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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

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Chapter 10, Pt. 2- Happy Birthday, Javi

Summary: Javi is convinced that after the perfect morning you've given him, his birthday can't get any better. Little does he know, his birthday still has a few more surprises left.

Word Count: 11.7K (Told you it'd be 20K if i put these two parts together)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (pls be safe), semi-public sex (and kind of getting caught?), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (are we surprised, cause I'm sure not), mentions of death/loss (but it's really sweet), mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of food, Steve Murphy not letting Javi have a moment of peace, Javi holding a baby (please don't mind as I scream into the abyss), if you've made it this far, you already know the sickening amount of fluff there's gonna be (hehehehe)

A/N: Our favorite birthday boy is back!!! I'm excited for this one cause it's CUTE. But when are these two idiots not like, the most adorable couple alive. Enjoy the rest of our sweet Javi's birthday!! Also please someone understand my self indulgent Foo Fighters/Blink-182 references

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“So you’re telling me I don’t get to know anything about the rest of the day? Coming from the person who hates surprises more than anyone I know?” Javi chuckled to himself, wrapping his towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower, handing you yours as you followed behind him.

“Okay, just because I hate being on the receiving end of a surprise doesn’t mean I don’t like to be a part of planning a surprise. So no, you don’t get to know. Although, I will say what happened this morning and the way you just pressed me against the wall and fucked me in the shower are two surprises I’m not upset about at all.” You smirked at Javi as you watched him run a towel over the damp curls of his hair, seeing his satisfied grin from underneath the fabric. “Now go get ready, birthday boy, you’ve got a big day ahead of you.” Javi pressed a gentle kiss onto your bare shoulder as you organized your things on the bathroom counter, rolling your eyes as you watched him look you up and down in the mirror.

“If we didn’t have places to be, I’d bend you over this counter and fuck you right here.” The kiss on your shoulder being replaced by a nip, making you giggle and swat at his broad body standing behind you.

“Javier Peña, you are a goddamn menace to society, go change!” The two of you laughed as Javi gave you a wink and a quick smack on the ass as he left you in the bathroom to start getting ready.

A menace to society in-fucking-deed.

You made sure to get ready as quickly as you could, wanting to make sure that you stayed on time for the rest of Javi’s birthday festivities. You had plenty planned to keep him busy until 4:00, the time you told Chucho you’d arrive at the ranch, giving your guests an hour to show up beforehand without ruining the surprise. After changing into a new, cute peachy dress with little white flowers, you met Javi in the living room, sitting on the couch watching TV, looking handsome as ever in the dark wash jeans and cream colored short sleeved button down.

“The watch looks good with your outfit.” You teased, noticing that Javi was already wearing one of his birthday gifts that he had insisted on giving you a hard time about after finding out about its cost.

“I love it, Osita. I’ll wear it every fucking day. And it actually tells time, which is helpful.” He laughed before turning his head around over the top of the couch to see you in your dress, jaw going slack as he watched you move about the kitchen, gathering things for the next part of your day. “Fuck me. Is that new?” he asked, taking an extra moment to appreciate how well the peach colored fabric hugged your body in all the right places, particularly as you bent down to pick something up out of the fridge.

“Mmmhhmmm.” You hummed, trying your best to hide the pozole de pollo you had made for Javi the day before in your travel sized cooler. “Same shopping trip as this morning’s outfit.” You looked up at Javi, giggling, as he ran a hand through his hair, knowing he was using every ounce of self control in his body to let you keep working on whatever you were doing. “Alright, I think everything is packed and should be good to go. You ready, roomie?” You smiled, grabbing the bag you had packed in preparation for the next part of your birthday plans. That one made Javi grin from ear to ear, still processing the fact that you had asked him to move in with you. He had practically already been living there, but something about knowing you wanted him to be the first thing you saw in the morning, and the last thing you saw before you fell asleep at night every damn day filled his heart in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“Ready. Sure I don’t get to know where we’re going?” He chuckled to himself as he got up, putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys, including the newest one to your shared apartment that he had already slipped onto the key ring while you were getting ready.

“You’re starting to sound like me. C’mon, let’s go.”

Walking down the stairs of your apartment, you grabbed Javi’s hand, knowing that he was going to lead you to his truck. Before he could lead you any further across the parking lot, you tugged him in the opposite direction, leading you towards your car. “Nope, I’m driving today. How were you supposed to drive if you didn’t know where we were going?”

“You could still drive my truck, if you wanted. You’re always complaining about how shitty your car is.”

He wasn’t wrong. After getting stationed in Oregon after his deployment, your oldest brother, Charlie, had offered to let you have his 1985 Jeep Wrangler. In reality, the car was only a decade-ish old, but the way he had treated it before he gave it to you had it barely hanging on by a thread. After your drive to Texas, Woodstock (the name you had given the car, given its obnoxious bright yellow color) was in rough shape, but, like most things in life, you were too stubborn to give it up and get a new one until you ran it into the ground.

“Every ounce of feminism in my body evaporates if I even think about driving that truck. It’s huge, and I’m terrified I’m gonna crash into something, and at least one of us needs a car that isn’t an absolute piece of shit.” You sighed, throwing your bag in the trunk before hopping into the driver’s seat, Javi taking his spot next to you as a passenger. “Please, please, please.” You mumbled to yourself, twisting the key back and forth in the ignition before turning the car over, praying it would start. “Yes! She lives to see another day.” You nodded your head in satisfaction as Woodstock’s engine rumbled. Javi shook his head, laughing to himself at your antics you had convinced him were the key to getting your car to start. “Alright,” You said, backing out of your spot and pulling on to the road, “you’re in charge of music today. Sorry I don’t have the Grease soundtrack in my car, but I do have some ABBA which I feel like could be a good replacement if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”

Javi rolled his eyes at you as he reached up to pull down the visor in front of him, lined with the CD’s in its sleeve. Since the two of you normally didn’t drive in your car, Javi wasn’t used to your music selection. Flipping through the discs, he found some overlaps, Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors”, Queen’s Greatest Hits, AC/DC’s “High Voltage”, along with some CD mixes that your brothers had probably given you, but he was surprised to find a few CD’s of bands that he had never even heard of before. “Blink-182?” He asked, holding up the disc with a picture of a bull with the band’s logo branded into its ass.

“David really likes them. They’re okay, there’s a few songs on there that I like, but some of them are really weird. I’m pretty sure there’s a song on there called “Dick Lips”.” You snickered, peeking over at the other CD’s Javi was shuffling through. “Oh, oh, that album is amazing.” You pointed at the dark blue disc Javi was now reaching up to grab. “David and Charlie both love these guys. You know the band Nirvana? The guy who was the drummer for them made his own band after Kurt Cobain died. I’ve been listening to this album every time I drive.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you play it around the apartment. The Foo Fighters? Literally never heard of ‘em.” He shrugged, pressing the disc into your car radio.

“I think you’d probably would’ve remembered if I played them around the house.” You huffed under your breath sheepishly. “They’re a little more… intense than what I normally listen to at home, so no judgment, okay? Skip to the second song, it’s the best one.”

“Now I’m intrigued.” Javi responded, placing his hand on your leg after skipping to track 2, his face scrunching in surprise at the intensity of the guitar and drums now blaring through your speakers. It didn’t take long for you to start drumming against your steering wheel, nodding your head to the beat, as you sang along to the words.

“Don’t wanna be your monkey wrench. One more indecent accident. I’d rather leave than suffer this. I’ll never be your monkey wrench.”

Javi watched as you lost yourself in the song, belting the lyrics as you banged against the steering wheel, practically out of breath as the CD moved on to the next track from singing. Javi always loved watching you sing along to whatever music you had playing, but something about watching you now was different, like there was intention behind every word that you sang along to, like you were letting something out that had been weighing on your chest with every thud of your palm against the steering wheel.

“Sorry.” You sighed, lowering the volume of the next track as you caught your breath. “It’s a great song, but this is my angry screaming in the car song if I’ve had a shitty day.” You tried to play off your comment jokingly, Javi sensing that you had more you wanted to say, but you weren’t telling him.

“What’s the song called?” Javi asked, trying to pry more out of you.

“Monkey Wrench.”

“Like the tool?” He laughed, making sure he understood you correctly.

“Yes, like the tool.” You half smiled back. “The song’s not actually about the tool… Well, I guess it kind of is. It’s about someone who gets pushed around and used because they’ve always tried to be flexible and adjust to make someone else happy, but eventually they realize they can’t take it anymore, and are done putting up with that person’s shit before it breaks them. You finally come to terms with what a fucking waste of time it was being with someone who couldn’t have gave a shit about you.”

You sat there in silence for a moment, embarrassed by your last sentence, realizing your comment had definitely become a lot more personal than you had intended it to be. “Sorry, I don’t- I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this, I shouldn’t have said anything about the CD, this is supposed to be fun, it’s your birthday, and now I’m ruining it and-” You stopped to look down as you felt Javi squeeze your leg, like he was trying to stop the apology that was flowing from your mouth with his grasp around your thigh. “Sorry.” You whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. “I know I always joke about Paul being an asshole and try to play it off like it’s not a big deal, but I think it fucked with me a lot more than I’d like to admit.” You took a long breath in before exhaling, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Okay, that’s all I have to say about that dickhead. He doesn’t even deserve the time of day to take up any space in my head. He’s a piece of shit, and I have you, and that’s all that matters. He can go… He can go… eat… rocks.” The both of you snorted at your terrible attempt at comeback, easing the tension in the car.

“You’re not ruining anything, Osita. I promise. I can understand why the song makes you mad. Makes me fucking pissed for you. I swear, if I ever meet that motherfucker, I’ll kick him in the dick ‘till he can’t fucking walk.” Javi snarled, the idea of someone treating you like how your ex did practically making his blood boil.

“I’d pay money to see that. Okay, no more Foo Fighters. Pick whatever you want and don’t listen to any of my suggestions because I am 0 for 1 today on birthday music.”

Shuffling through the rest of the CD’s ejected the Foo Fighters album to replace it with one he knew would make you smile. As soon as the keyboard riff to “Rich Girl'' by Hall and Oats started, your mood instantly shifted, wondering how Javi always knew exactly how to make you feel better. “Listen, Javi, you don’t have to use the song, you can just tell me that you’re in this relationship for the enormous salary I’m raking in from teaching, it’s okay.” Javi reached down to grab your hand as you giggled, giving it a gentle squeeze as he watched you sing along, dancing in your seat, with a smile on your face. Truth be told, Javier Peña was a simple man, and knowing you were happy with him was the best birthday gift he could ask for.

“Okay, we’re here!” You beamed, pulling up to the first stop of your surprise destinations for the day. Javi had lived in Laredo his entire life- he knew the city like the back of his own hand. That’s why when you pulled up to the small park entrance, Javi was perplexed as to where he was, or why you had taken him there.

“Have I had it wrong this whole time, Osita? Are you the one that’s really the serial killer and you’re taking me out to some park I’ve never heard of to get rid of me?” Javi mocked as you playfully punched him before the two of you got out of the Jeep, grabbing the bag you had stored in the trunk.

“Oh, shut up. Believe it or not, your dad is actually the one who told me about this place. C’mon, let’s go.” You hoisted the bag up onto your shoulder, making your way down the gravel path through the trees that lined the trail. Javi followed behind you, interlocking his hand with yours as you led him through the brush. The path opened up, revealing a small area overlooking Lake Casa Blanca, tucked away in its own corner, surrounded by trees and tall grass that swayed in the gentle summer breeze. It took Javi a moment to realize where you were, having been to the lake every summer since he could remember, but never once had he been here, shocked to find how quiet and peaceful the secluded patch by the water was.

“Lake Casa Blanca?” He asked softly as you started pulling things out of your bag, laying down a big blanket, followed by a variety of containers and thermoses.

“Mmmhmmm.” You nodded, fixing the edges of the blanket as you sat down, Javi joining you as you rustled around for the bowls and spoons at the bottom of the tote. “Your dad said you used to love coming here as a kid. So much that you would cry every time you had to leave. But he said there was a secret place hidden away on the opposite side of the lake where he always used to take your mom when they first started dating. They would be all cute and watch the sunset together before he had to take her home for the night. I know it’s not the sunset, and I know it’s definitely not your mom’s but um, I wanted to try and make you something for your birthday. I got her recipe from your dad. I know it’ll never be the same as hers, but your dad told me how much you loved it, and I-I hope that’s okay.” Carefully, you poured the pozole into one of the bowls, grateful that it still looked hot before you grabbed some of the garnishes out of the plastic containers and sprinkled them on top of the stew.

“Is this… Is this her pozole?” He looked down at the bowl in shock, like he couldn’t even comprehend that the dish was really in front of him. He hadn’t seen the sight of his mom’s pozole de pollo in over a decade. He refused to eat anyone else’s, knowing it could never compare to his mamá’s. The memory of his mother lovingly feeding him bowls of the stew filled him with a comfort and heartache he wasn’t quite sure how to describe. He had never even bothered to ask his dad to make it, figuring like most of the things that brought him pain, it was easier just to avoid it all together. But then, there was you. How had you figured out this was his favorite? You must have gone out of your way to ask his dad? You made this just for him? You cared about him that much? He picked up the bowl and one of the spoons, realizing how nervous you looked as he scooped some up, bringing the spoonful of vegetables, chicken and broth to his mouth.

You were practically holding your breath as he took a bite, praying to whatever higher power there was that he just didn’t hate it, or worse, that he was upset with you for even trying to attempt it in the first place. You watched hesitantly, over-analyzing every twitch of his face as he chewed and swallowed, looking up at you, tears welling behind his eyes.

“Baby…” He paused for a moment, setting the pozole down.

Fuck, was it so bad that you made him cry? Oh please, God, please not let it be terrible.

He brought his hand to your cheek, caressing your jaw, his lips drawn in a soft sweet smile. His voice trembled, barley above a whisper. “It tastes just like hers. I-I never thought I’d get to taste that again. Thank you, Osita. You- You have no idea how much this means to me. It means everything. Thank you. Thank you so much.” A tear gently rolled down his cheek as he pulled you into his chest, cradling the back of your head as he brought you closer to him. He sat there for a moment, looking out at the lake then back down at you as he held you in his arms, the sweet scent of the pozole lingering in the peaceful silence. He wasn’t quite sure how you did it, but he swore he fell more and more in love with you by the second.

“So, it’s okay? You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Baby, how could I possibly be mad? I couldn’t be fucking happier. I love you so much.” He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head, savoring the sweet scent of you as he buried his nose in your hair.

“Well if it was really awful, it would be very fair if you were upset.” You let out a small huff of laughter, relief washing over your body, feeling like you could finally breathe again. “Like I said, I know it can never replace your mom’s, but it’s your birthday, and you deserve everything in the world- today and every other day. I love you too, Javi.”

You were glad you had made as much pozole as you did, watching Javi practically inhale every last drop you had made. When you told him that there was still more in the fridge at home, his face lit up like a little boy on Christmas day. He was equally excited for the cupcakes you had made him, gobbling several of them down almost as quickly as the pozole. You sat at the edge of the water after finishing your food, listening to Javi tell you stories of his favorite memories at the lake, particularly enjoying the one where his older cousin had convinced him that you were allowed to take fish from the lake home as pets, and somehow managed to bring a full bucket back to the car with him before his parents found out.

“Did you ever have any real pets as a kid?” You asked, finishing the last bite of your cupcake, still giggling from Javi’s story.

“Besides all the cows and sheep and horses?” He laughed, face palming yourself for forgetting that Javi had literally grown up on a farm. “Yes in that sense, but never anything that lived in the house, besides that bucket of fish I almost got away with if my cousin wouldn’t have ratted me out.”

“My house was a goddamn zoo growing up. I think by the time I was born, my parents already knew it was going to be chaos, so they figured, what were a few more animals going to do? I’m pretty sure at one point we had 3 dogs, a cat, Charlie had a rat and a snake which did not end well, and one day, Patrick and David came home from the pet store with an iguana, which only lived in the house for one day before escaping out the bedroom window at night, never to be seen again. Rumor is, that iguana is still roaming through the suburbs of Chicago to this day.” The both of you laughed, Javi raising an eyebrow, picturing you with all your brothers and animals running around the house. “After all of that, I am more than happy with just a dog, singular, not plural. I was close to adopting one when I moved down here, Paul hated animals- another red flag, despite how much I told him I wanted one, but it wouldn’t have been fair with me living in the apartment. I wanted to get a house when I moved down here so I could have a yard, but again, the giant teacher salary wasn’t doing me any favors, unless I wanted to live in a box by the side of the highway.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog. I’d love to have one when we get a house.”

We. When we get a house. That one put butterflies in your stomach.

“When we get a house, huh?” You put a little emphasis on the word, the both of you blushing, quietly laughing to yourselves.

“I mean, I love your apartment. I couldn’t be more fucking excited to live with you. But I mean- I don’t know, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m guessing you don’t wanna live there forever?” He traced his fingers along the small of you back as he sat propped up next to you.

“I mean no, but again, not really rolling in cash over here in the money department, Jav.” You rolled your eyes, a part of you feeling guilty that your career choice always made you feel like a financial burden, despite how good you were with saving your money.

“Listen…I don’t wanna sound like an asshole. I already know how much you hate the “I’m a man so I have to provide for you” stereotype, believe me. I’ve got a good amount of money saved up, and my job now pays better than the DEA even did. I just- I don’t want you to worry about it. I know how much you love teaching, and it’s un-fucking-fair how little teachers make, but I don’t ever want you to think you’re a burden because of it. I’d support you if you wanted to have 6 jobs, because if there’s anyone who could do it, it would fucking be you. But, I- I know you said that you wanted kids, and- and if you ever wanted to not work and stay at home with them, I’d support that too. I just want you to be happy, Osita. You deserve the world and I’d fucking give it to you if I could.”

Those sweet chocolate eyes went straight to your heart. The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only person on the face of this earth. He was right, you loathed the idea of a man telling how to live your life because he was the breadwinner, but you knew that’s not what Javi wanted. He cared about you. He cared about you so fucking much that almost hurt. He wanted to look after you because you were the only person in the world he ever wanted to treat this way. All he cared about was your happiness. And God, would more than gladly spend the rest of your life doing the same for him.

“You trying to tell me you want me to stay at home and run the Peña household zoo while you’re at work?” You teased, giving him a little nudge as you smiled at him.

“If that’s what you want, it’s what I want too. Although I may have to draw the line at having a fucking iguana in our house.” The two of you snorted, resting your head on Javi’s shoulder as he leaned down to kiss your head, placing a soft peck on your temple.

“No iguanas is fine by me. Like I said, A dog is plenty. Maybe less kids than 4, but I could also be jaded from the 3 older brothers. But I mean- I guess, have you thought about how many kids you’d want?” You should have been embarrassed by how easily the question slipped out. There are lots of things you should have felt uncomfortable bringing up as you talked about your future together at this point in your relationship. You should of, but both of you seemed to agree that those should of’s flew out the window a long time ago.

“Osita…” He paused, laughing to himself, shaking his head as he and those puppy dog eyes glanced over at you. “Baby, I’ll give you however many kids you want. I’ll give you a fucking football team if that’s what makes you happy.” Fuck, he’d give you a baby today if that’s what you wanted- but that’s one he still had enough willpower to keep as a should of, for now. Little did he know, you would have had as many babies as Javi wanted to give you right this very second. But that was a should of you could keep to yourself a little longer too.

The two of you spent a little more time enjoying the warm Texas sun by the edge of the water, Javi bruising your competitive pride in your rock skipping competition, as you tried to persuade him that you only let him win because it was his birthday. Glad that Javi had decided to wear his new watch, you were able to keep a close eye on the time, gathering your things and ushering him to your last pit stop before the Peña ranch.

“Alright, stop number two!” You smiled as you pulled up to Eva’s Dairy Barn. “Wouldn’t be a good birthday if I didn’t take you for ice cream.”

“I was hoping this would be part of the surprise.” He grinned at you as the two of you exited your car, grabbing your hand as you stood in line.

“Of course, Mr. Sweet Tooth. What’s today’s choice? They have a flavor that’s called birthday cake! Or does that not have enough sprinkles for you?” You stuck your tongue out at him as he wrapped you in a bear hug, shaking you as you both laughed.

“Even on my birthday, you’re not gonna let me have a moment of peace, are you?”

“Never. Where’s the fun in that?”

You had never been more thankful for Javi’s incredibly fast eating skills, the impressive speed that he consumed his ice cream at keeping you on time for his last surprise.

“You sure my dad really wants to see me that badly? I told him I was spending the day with you and that we could celebrate a different time.” Javi asked as the two of you got in your car to begin your journey to the Peña ranch.

“Uh, yeah, he called the other day while you were at work, and said that he had something at the house he really wanted to give you today since it’s your actual birthday.” You replied, trying your best to make your lie as convincing as possible. It wasn’t until just now that you began to feel the nerves building in your belly. The day had already been so perfect, you hadn’t stopped to think about the surprise party until now. What if Javi hated it? What if he was mad at you for inviting all of these people? What if you had ruined what had already been such an amazing birthday for him? Javi could clearly sense that your mood had shifted, noticing how tightly you were now gripping the steering wheel of your car as you drove.

“You okay, Hermosa?” He questioned, looking over at you with concern.

C’mon, pull it together, you literally have like 20 more minutes, don’t ruin it now.

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine, my head just kind of hurts. Probably didn’t drink enough water today.” You shrugged, turning up the radio volume, your answer seeming to satisfy Javi enough to keep him from pressing anymore. You tried your best to keep your cool for the rest of the trip, singing along to one of the Rolling Stones albums Javi had found tucked behind one of your other CD’s. By the time you were pulling down the driveway, you could feel how sweaty your palms were, relieved to see that Javi hadn’t noticed any of the guests’ cars peeking out from behind the other side of the barn as you approached the house. He reached over the center console to give you a quick kiss before the two of you exited, taking a few deep breaths and frantically wiping your clammy hands on your dress before Javi interlaced his fingers with yours to walk up to the house.

“Hey Pops, we’re here!” Javi announced, opening the door for the both of you. He stepped a little further into the living room, a concerned look now growing across his face at the lack of response. “Dad?” He called out again to the sound of silence. Javi wandered a little deeper into the home, peeking his head into the kitchen and down the hallway as he looked back at you in confusion. “That’s weird, he’s normally done working by now.” He looked around, placing his hands on his hips before looking down at you, crossing your arms and biting your lip.

“You promise you love me and you’re not gonna be mad at me?” You asked, scrunching your brow.

“Baby, what is going on?” His face now even more puzzled.

“You promise?”

“Of course I promise, Osita, what is happening, why are you being so weird?” He now mirrored your stance, crossing his arms over his chest, trying his best not to panic. You grabbed his hand, leading him towards the door of the backyard patio, letting out one last little gulp before you spoke.

“I love you more than anything in the world, Jav. I know you said you don’t think that anyone cares about you or your birthday, but there are so many people who love you, me included, who think that you deserve to have the most amazing day ever. I know you don’t believe it, but I do, and so does everyone else.” You pressed up on your toes to give him one last kiss before opening the sliding glass door, watching him walk out to the back porch. He looked around to see the balloons, streamers and string lights hanging from the deck as you stood behind him, giving a thumbs up to Chucho, who had all of the party guests hidden on the side of the house. He turned back around to face towards you, completely bewildered.

“Osita, what’s going-”

“SURPRISE!”

Javi spun around to see not one, not ten, but a crowd of people now standing at the bottom of the deck, smiles stretched across their faces as they looked up at him. At first, he thought it was a joke. He looked back at you, nodding your head in reassurance, like you could read his mind.

Yes, these people are all really here for you, pendejo.

He looked back out into the sea of people standing in the backyard, now realizing just how many people had shown up just to celebrate him. His whole family- Aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children, his family friends, your 3rd grade co-workers, Carter and Miller, fucking Steve Murphy? And Connie? He turned around to face you one more time, tears welling in his eyes, truly in disbelief. “Baby… Did you… Did you do this all for me?” He cupped your face, cradling your cheek.

“Yes, well me and your dad. Just about killed me to try and keep it a secret this long, I think I was gonna spontaneously combust if I had to tell you another lie.” Your gaze was soft and tender as you stared up at him, letting out a little laugh at the state of disbelief Javi was still in. “Happy Birthday, Javi. Te amo.”

Taking his hands and grasping both sides of your face, Javi pulled you in closer, his mouth meeting yours with a passion that made your heart flutter, his kiss was deep and intense. It was almost enough to drown out the hooting and hollering of the crowd you forgot was watching you from the yard, Javi pulling away in laughter as he heard, who he assumed to be Steve’s loud “OW OWWWWW!” as the two of you found yourselves dangerously close to making out in front of Javi’s friends and family. Chucho joined you on the deck, his grunt from each step of the stairs giving away his presence as you ran over to give him a hug.

“Lo hicimos, Chucho. Buen trabajo, Chiflado.” (We did it, Chucho. Nice work, crazy.)

“Lo hicimos, Mija. Ven aquí, Javier. (We did it, mija. Come here, Javier).” Chucho held out his arm, motioning for Javi to join them in their group hug.

“Feliz cumpleaños!” (Happy birthday!) you both beamed up at Javi, wrapping your arms around him. At that moment, Javi didn’t care how tough of a man he thought he was. He didn’t care that he was in front of almost everyone he knew. He didn’t care what anyone thought. The sight of the two of you wrapped around his waist, laughing and smiling together as you held him brought him to tears. You were the two people he cared about more than anything in this world, and the fact that you both cared about him just as much made him weak in the knees. For a very long time, Javi had convinced himself that he wasn’t worth caring for. Sure, people would say they cared, but words were really nothing but- They were just words. But then there was you. Your words, your actions, your kindness, your sweet heart. You. Everything about you. You cared about him. You loved him. For the first time in a very long time, Javier Peña could feel himself finally starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he really was worth caring for.

Chucho grabbed his son by the arm, giving him a firm grasp, as he too, wiped the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Te amo, hijo. Me enorgullece el hombre que eres. Yo se tu madre estaría tambien. Feliz cumpleaños, Javier.” (I love you, son. I am so proud of the man you've become. I know your mother would be, too. Happy birthday, Javier). You watched as the two of them embraced, Chucho patting Javi on the back, squeezing him tightly before pulling away and pointing at you. “She’s a good one. You better marry this girl, Javier. And not just because I want my nietos (grandkids).” That one had both your faces turning an embarrassing shade of red as Chucho pulled you both back in for a hug before letting you go to address the crowd.

“Vamos de fiesta!” (Let’s party!)

As the upbeat music began to play in the background, Javi grabbed you by the hand, leading you down the deck into the crowd below. It was no surprise to either of you that the first voice that greeted you was one you hadn’t heard since the beginning of june.

“MIJAAAAAAAAA!” Maria screeched as she wrapped her arms around the two of you, squeezing you in for a hug before pulling away with a staunch frown on her face. “Why have neither of you called?! Apparently you two are in love and I have to hear it from Chucho?! Dios Mio, I cannot believe it!” You and Javi laughed as she swatted at the both of you, the two of you grimacing between your giggles.

“Sorry, Maria.” Javi replied, leaning back down to kiss her on the cheek, easing some of her theatrics.

“Fine, I will forgive you. Only because it is your birthday. As long as I am invited to the wedding, I won’t complain.” She pointed a finger at Javi as he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

“Maria… Please?” He looked down at her, giving your hand a little squeeze as you quickly caught him smirk in your direction.

“Oh, pshhhhhh.” She waved her hand at him again, rolling her eyes. “I already know it will happen, so just keep me on the guest list. I really am glad to see you both so happy. Feliz cumpleaños, Javier.” This time, she ended her sentence with a genuine smile, bringing you back for one last hug before giving a wave and heading back into the crowd.

“Well… This school year’s gonna be fun.” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, the both of you knowing Maria was about to be a relentless investigator in your relationship once September rolled around. “I’m gonna go check on something inside really quick, are you gonna be okay if I leave you to fend for yourself?” You smiled at him, telling that as thankful as he was, Javi was still feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention. He nodded, giving you a quick kiss on the head as you disappeared to make sure everything had made it to its proper place before the party kicked into full swing.

Javi took a deep breath, relieved to find his dad approaching him, already holding out a beer in his hand for his son to take. “Figured you might need a little liquid courage.” Chucho chuckled, patting Javi on the back. Javi quickly took the can, cracking it open and holding it up to cheers with his dad, taking an extra long sip before holding it by his side.

“She really planned all this?” Javi grinned at his dad in disbelief, looking out at the crowd around him.

“Sure did, hijo. She’s been planning it for weeks, been over here more times than I can count while you’ve been at work. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. That girl loves you so much, Javier. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Javi watched as you made your way back down from the deck, awestruck by every inch of you as you made your way back to him. Looking at you was like looking at a fucking dream. He was the luckiest man on the face of the earth. He knew that for damn sure. Before Javi could respond to his dad, he felt two hands grab him by the shoulders and shake him from behind, already knowing exactly who it was from the moment he heard his voice.

“Happy birthday, you grumpy old bastard.”

Never in his life did Javi think that he would be so excited to see Steve Murphy.

“Hey, Murph.” Javi chuckled, grabbing Steve in a tight embrace, the two patting each other's backs before pulling away.

“Fuck, you look old. What’d ya turn this year, 76?”

“Fuck off, Murphy. Could say the same for you.” It had been years since the two had seen each other, but the way Javi and Steve picked right back up where they had left off made it feel like not even a day had passed between them.

“Havin’ kids will do that to ya. Sure it won’t be long ‘till you find that out. Speakin’ of which, where’s the girlfriend?” Steve winked, taking a sip of his beer as Javi took an over exaggerated sigh, raising his own beer up to his mouth, relieved to find you walking up to the two of them.

“Oh, you already got a drink? Okay, two for me then, I guess.” You shrugged, setting one of your beers down in the grass as Javi wrapped his hand around your hip, planting a kiss on your temple. “You must be Steve?” You asked, outstretching your hand toward his tall, lanky frame.

“You must be the girlfriend?” He replied mischievously.

“I wish. He’s just paying me to walk around with him all night to make him look good. Felt bad for the guy with it being his birthday and everything. What’d you say your name was again? Julio?” You snorted as you looked up at Javi, shaking his head as you nudged his side.

“Fuck, she’s funny. I like her, Jav.” Steve grinned at Javi, raising an eyebrow.

“You two are both the biggest pain in my ass I think I’ve ever met.” Javi retorted, smirking at you as he gave you a little nudge back.

“Well, at least he’s got a type.” You held up your drink up to Steve’s, the both of you laughing as a petite blonde haired woman approached with 2 little girls behind her and one in her arms.

“Hi Javi.” She smiled warmly, passing the baby off to Steve as she gave Javi a hug. “It’s so good to see you. Hope Steve isn’t already giving you too much of a hard time.”

“Thanks, Connie. Good to see you too. Con, this is my girlfr-”

“Girlfriend? I had a feeling. Steve told me all about you. It’s really nice to meet you.” Connie reached her arms out towards you, pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s really nice to meet you too, thank you so much for coming.” You smiled at her, looking over at the two girls behind her. “Are these your daughters?”

“Oh yes, this is Olivia and Abby, and the little one is Madison. Can you say hi, girls? Javi used to work with your dad a long time ago!” Connie cooed at the girls, playing with each other behind their mom.

“Hi!” The girls waved shyly before darting behind Connie’s legs, giggling to one another.

You and Javi both waved back as you crouched down on your knees to talk with them. “So Olivia and Abby, how old are you?”

“10!” Olivia responded, trying to pull her sister away from Connie to get a better look at you. “Abby’s 6 but she’s really shy.”

“I am not!” Abby demanded, stomping her foot at her sister. “I’m almost 7, so I won’t be 6 for much longer.”

“Well it looks like we have two birthdays to celebrate!” You smiled as Abby peeked a little further from out behind her mom. “So let me guess, you girls are going into 5th grade and 1st grade? I teach 3rd grade, so I’m right in between you two!” The girls' faces lit up instantly as you told them about your profession.

“I wanna be a teacher when I’m a grown up!” Olivia beamed, tugging at Connie’s sleeve. “Mommy, do you think she’ll play unicorns with us?” Abby now bouncing up and down in excitement next to her.

“Oh sweetie, I don’t-”

“No it’s okay!” You interjected, cutting off Connie. “Of course I can play. Just for a little bit though. I’m sure playing with you is way more fun than talking with grownups, but I promised Javi I’d spend time with him tonight because it’s his birthday, okay?” You stood up, now facing Javi looking like he hadn’t heard a single word you had just said. “Jav?”

“Uh yeah, sorry, what’d you say?” He shook his head, trying to clear the strangely comforting feeling he had growing in his chest with how sweetly you had talked to the girls.

“You okay if I go hang with these two cuties for a little while? Unless you’re also dying to go play unicorns, in which case I'm sure the girls will let you join since it’s your birthday.” You gestured back over to Olivia and Abby, laughing as you watched them already pretending to gallop around the backyard.

“I’m good on the unicorns, thanks Osita.” He chuckled as you pressed up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss before heading off to join the girls.

“THERE’S NO KISSING IN UNICORNS!” Olivia shouted from across the yard making you, Connie, Steve and Javi burst out into hysterics, holding up your arms like you had been caught, turning around to point at Javi and give him a playful stank face as you walked away.

“Goddamn, Jav. When you puttin’ a ring on that girl’s finger?” Steve and Connie both smirked as he passed baby Madison back over to her, Connie carrying her over to watch where the girls were playing.

“Murph, c’mon-” Javi tried to stop him from getting any further before he knew how much shit Steve was about to throw his way, regardless of what his answer was.

“I’m bein’ serious, Javi. She’s a fuckin’ catch. Happiest I’ve ever seen you, that’s for sure. What the hell you waitin’ for, man?” Javi could tell Steve was being genuinely serious, something that didn’t happen often. Javi took another sip of his near empty drink as he rested his hands on his hips, staring back at Steve’s impatient glare.

“I don’t know, Steve. I- She’s perfect. Fuck, I don’t know, it’s only been 3 months, I don’t wanna rush things or scare her off, I- I didn’t know you could love someone this much, Murph. I’m scared I’m gonna fuck it up somehow.” Javi’s gaze shot down to the ground, running his hands through the dark curls of his hair before setting his can down in the grass.

“Listen, I’ll say one more thing and then I’ll shut up about it, I promise.” Steve held his hands up in defense as Javi nodded, waiting for what Steve had to say. “I dated someone before Con for 3 fuckin’ years and it blew up in my face because it just wasn’t it. I met Connie two weeks later, and I knew from the moment I met her I wanted to spend the rest of my fuckin’ life with her. Got married 10 months later. When ya know, ya know, Jav. And if there’s one thing I can tell for certain is that you’re fuckin’ lovesick fool for her, and she sure as hell loves you too. You won’t mess anything up, Peña. Now c’mon, I got a lotta birthday whiskey I need to give you.”

Looking over Steve’s shoulder, Javi watched as you ran around with Olivia and Abby, that bright beautiful smile stretched across your face, his heart bursting as he watched you laugh and giggle with the girls in the grass. He hated to admit that Steve was right about anything, but there wasn’t a doubt in Javi’s mind that he wasn’t. He’d marry you tomorrow. He would have married you yesterday. Fuck, he would have married you 2 months ago. God, the only thing stopping him at this point was not wanting to hear the 10 pounds of shit Steve was going to give him during the best man speech at his wedding.

Despite getting roped into playing Unicorns for a little longer than you had intended, the party seemed to be going off without a hitch. People were having fun, the food Chucho had grilled was delicious, and more important than anything else, Javi was happy. Genuinely happy. You were worried that with the amount of people who had come, Javi would be overwhelmed by the attention, counting down the minutes until the night was over. It had shocked you how many times Javi had thanked you not only for everything you had done for him that day, but for inviting so many people that he had barely seen since his mom had passed. He was so excited to introduce you to the rest of his family that you hadn’t met yet, and found himself on the brink of tears as you tried to converse with them in Spanish, finding out that part of the reason you had spent so much time with Chucho was to learn more so you could talk to the people he cared about the most in their native language. It made him burst with pride how each friend and family member he introduced you to couldn't express enough how much they loved you, and how happy they were for him. Truth be told, the only thing that Javi had to even try to complain about was the fact that you still made everyone sing him Happy Birthday and blow out the candles on the cake you had made. Even when he told you that you were mad about it, Javi knew that you could see right through him, and that he couldn’t have been more thankful for every single thing you had done for him that day.

Long after the sun had set below the horizon of the Peña ranch, the party was still in full swing, the string lights you and Chucho had hung along the deck now lighting up the boisterous dance floor the patio had become. Despite his genuine happiness, you were more than convinced that Steve’s birthday whiskey definitely had something to do with the fact that Javi asked you to go dance with him, but wasn’t quite enough liquid courage to keep him on the dance floor as you tried to drag him back out to do the Macarena with you and his tías. After a few of his cousins had dragged him inside for another beer, Javi found himself sitting at the kitchen table, still getting a good view of you on the porch as you sang and danced away. Javi took a sip of his drink, letting out a content sigh as he leaned back in the chair and watched Steve fumble his way into the kitchen, holding Madison with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Thank God, there you are. Can you watch her, please?” Steve outstretched the baby girl out to Javi, panting like he had sprinted to come find him.

“Steve, what? Are you sure that-?” Javi looked back at Steve suspiciously, leaving Madison dangling between the two of them as Steve practically set her in Javi’s lap.

“Listen, I got two little girls out in the backyard fightin’ over who the hell gets to be the purple mermaid, Con’s out at the car tryin’ to get the girl’s pajamas, so either you take the baby, or go help Olivia and Abby decide who the goddamn purple mermaid is cause I can’t do both.” Sensing the desperation in his tone, Javi took Madison in his arms as Steve went as quickly as he came through the kitchen. “Word of advice, Jav?” Steve yelled across the room as he moved towards the door.

“Yeah, Murph?”

“Don’t let the kids outnumber you.”

Javi chuckled to himself as he looked down at the baby now sitting in his lap. “Guess it’s just you and me, huh?” Javi shrugged as Maidson as he bounced her in his lap. Javi had never really understood why people were so obsessed with babies, considering that they didn’t really do much. But as Javi listened to Madison babble and squeal as he rocked her up and down, he found himself with a grin stretched across his face that he was definitely not expecting. Now on a mission to get another cute reaction out of her, Javi held Madison in his arms, making goofy faces at her as her happy shrieks and coos continued.

Realizing that Javi had been gone for a good amount of time, you looked around the yard, finding that Javi was nowhere in sight. Chucho mentioned something to you about seeing Javi head into the house with his primos (cousins) not too long ago, so you decided to make your way through the crowd to see if you could find him.

“Oh hey, there you are, Hermosa!” you heard Javi’s voice greet you, your back still turned to him as you closed the door behind you.

“Hi, birthday boy! I was looking for-”

Oh.

Oh, dear lord.

The sight you had stumbled upon was nothing that you could have mentally prepared yourself for. It hadn’t helped that for some reason, Javi seemed to be a kid magnet- every child at the party wanting to come up and talk to him or wish him happy birthday. That in itself would have been fine. But what really sent you over the edge was the fact that he was so goddam sweet with every single one of them. Like when you had watched as he crouched down to talk with one of his youngest cousins, listening intently as he told Javi all about his soccer team, or hug one of Estelle’s granddaughters who had made him a birthday card, Javi thanking her in that same sweet voice you had heard him use with animals. It practically melted to the ground as you watched him wrap his arms around her, telling her “Que hermosa! Muchos gracias! (So pretty! Thank you so much!) As she handed him the card. That alone was enough to turn you into a puddle. But now, here you were, looking at Javier Peña, making the sweetest silly faces to the baby he had sitting on his lap. You were ready to run home and toss your birth control out the fucking window.

“You okay, Osita?” Javi asked, waiting for you to finish the rest of your sentence.

“Yup. I am great. I am doing perfectly fine. I am feeling SUUUUPER normal about what’s happening right now.” You gestured to Javi, now propping Madison against his shoulder as he stood up.

Oh my GOD, is he broad. That man could easily fit 3 more babies in his arms. I’m about to get him to put 3 more babies in- NO. STOP. STOP THIS RIGHT NOW. You aren’t even close to being engaged yet, let alone married, you idiot. You cannot have this man’s babies right now. Well, I meannnnn, I guess I- NO. Self control. Pull it together, you hormonal monster. Jesus Christ.

Javi shook his head as he laughed to himself, almost as if he could hear the internal monologue going on in your head as you watched him carry Madison over to you. “What?” He smirked at you, bouncing the baby girl in his arms.

“Don’t you what me, Javier Jesús Peña. You expect me to walk in on you holding a baby and just be normal about it? Here, let me hold her before I look at you any longer and my ovaries burst.” You reached up as Javi passed Madison over to you, holding her only for a brief moment before Steve came rushing back in, snatching her out of your arms.

“If Connie asks, I had her the whole time and the girls didn’t have two extra pieces of cake to stop the mermaid argument.”

Before either of you could say another word, Steve was back out of the kitchen, rushing through the patio door. His swift entrance and exit left you and Javi alone, standing dangerously close to one another, the sexual tension between the two of you so thick, a chainsaw wouldn’t have been able to cut through it. You were using any and all self control you had to not pounce on Javi after watching him hold that baby, but he clearly seemed to have even less restraint than you.

“C’mere.” Javi rasped, his mouth moving faster than his brain as he grabbed your wrist to pull you down the hallway into his room, frantically closing and locking the door behind him. In seconds, your lips crashed into each other, moans escaping from your mouths in between each breath, as your hands grasped at tight fistfuls of the other’s clothing. Javi’s tongue swept into your mouth, kissing you like his life depended on it, the both of you becoming so needy and desperate in each other's arms. Javi’s hands hiked up the hem of your dress, sliding against your thighs before wrapping his arms under your legs, hoisting you up and carrying you into the ensuite attached to his room, using his back to push open the door. He set you down on the counter, quickly pressing the lock to the bathroom before he was back to nipping at your neck, the palms of his hands pressing against every inch of your body as he slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

“Javiiii…” You whined in between his frantic kisses. “Javi, we can’t do this here, all your friends and family are outside, this is a bad idea.” Your words were less convincing than ever as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair, tugging at the ends of his thick, brown locks, wrapping your legs around the small of his back to pull him closer to you.

“I don’t care. Fuck, I need you right now.” He planted hot, wet kisses along your neck and chest, pushing down the top of your dress, leaving your breasts exposed, your nipples pebbling against the cool air and Javi’s touch. He swiped his tongue against each, flicking and swirling them in his mouth as he dug his fingers into your hips, making it harder and harder to keep your moans quiet.

“Javi, we can’t. What if someone finds us? I want your family to like me, and I’m pretty sure one of them walking in on us isn’t gonna help my case very much.” You couldn’t even bother trying to convince yourself at this point. You could already feel how wet the fabric of your underwear was, slick pooling along your thighs as you and Javi practically clawed at each other, feverishly desperate and worked up.

Javi smirked, shaking his head as hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, letting them fall to the floor as they slid down your legs. “You don’t have to worry about that, baby. They fucking love you. You know what everyone keeps asking me, huh?” He took his hand, placing it under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet with the dark, lustful pools of his eyes, the other sliding up your bare thigh, his fingers sliding through your wet folds, collecting the arousal already dripping from them. “They keep asking me when I’m gonna marry you.”

He pushed his thick fingers into your heat, making you shutter as your hands white knuckled the edge of the marbled countertop. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it all fucking day. How fucking perfect you are, what good wife you’d be.” The calloused pad of his thumb pressed against your clit, the motion of him rubbing back and forth and his fingers pulsing in and out of you making you scrunch your face, your jaw hinged open, trying everything you could to keep quiet.

Javi would have loved to do nothing more than spend the rest of the night making you cum over and over again, but the both of you knew now wasn’t the time or place to keep things drawn out. He pulled his fingers out of you, making you bite down on your tongue to keep from whimpering as Javi worked at his belt, hearing the buckle clink as he pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free as it flung out from under the waistband of his underwear, already throbbing and leaking precum from its tip. Javi spitting on his hand to stroke himself before collecting the slick around your entrance and pushing deep inside your heat. Javi held his hand up over your mouth, trying to keep from screaming into his palm as the sweet stretch of his length felt like it was splitting you open. “Shhhhh, I know baby.” He mewled, reaching his free hand down to once again rub against your throbbing bundle of nerves. “Gotta be a good girl and keep quiet for me, okay?” You nodded frantically as he took his hand off your mouth, biting down on your lip as his thrusts became quicker, pounding into you with a desperate intensity. “Jesus you’re so fucking wet. Does it turn you on, Osita? Thinking about me being your husband?” The way Javi punched against your walls had you writhing, squeezing your legs tighter around his waist and burying your face in the crook of his neck, toes curling with each satisfying thrust. You were practically incoherent- the way his hips snapped ferociously against you, fingers circling against your clit, talking about being his fucking wife? You let your words babble from your brain straight to your mouth, unfiltered, as they fell from your lips.

“Fuck- oh my god - Yes, fuck, it turns me on so much. I think about it all the time. Fuck, I wanna marry you so bad, have your kids, I want all of it Javi. I want- Oh shit- I want all of it.” You could feel the tingle creeping from the base of your spine into your belly, digging your fingertips into the shirt stretched across the muscles of Javi’s broad back, crying out silently into his shoulder. The sounds that filled the air between you were wanton, hearing how wet you were as Javi slid in and out of you, his grunts strained against his gritted teeth, thrusting deeper and harder as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him.

“Jesus- fuck me - Makes me so fucking hard thinking about it. Making you my fucking wife, putting a ring on your finger, fucking a baby into you. I’ll give it all to you, Osita.” You balled your fists around the fabric of his shirt, nearly ripping it off his back as you sobbed into his neck feeling how close you were. His free hand reached back up against your face, cupping over your mouth to muffle your moans, feeling you clench tighter and tighter around his cock. “That’s it baby. Let go. Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me.” The coil in your belly snapped as you whimpered into his palm, your orgasm overtaking you, body erupting with pleasure.

Hi Javi’s thrusts became sloppy and sporadic, frantically chasing his own high, desperate to fuck every last drop of himself into you. “Fuck, Hermosa, you’re so good to me, giving me the best fucking birthday- mierda - you’re fucking perfect. All fucking mine. Oh shit, fuck, baby, I’m- ahhhhhh.” With one last pulse, his seed spilled against the heat of your walls, his cock throbbing inside you, pushing every last drop of himself into your cunt. He slumped his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the sweaty curls of his hair stick to your skin as your chests rose and fell in sync. Javi hissed as he pulled out, feeling the mixture of the two of you drip down your legs. Running his two fingers along the inside of your still trembling thighs, he collected your spend, bringing it back to your entrance before pushing his thick digits back into your heat, making you gasp. “Gonna keep you full of me all fucking night, pretty girl.” He leaned down to kiss along the trail he had swiped up before traveling his lips up your body, stopping at your mouth. He reached down to grab your panties, pulling them back over your legs as he helped you down off of the counter, shuffling them over your ass as he gave it a quick smack before pulling your dress back down to its rightful position. You leaned against the counter as Javi brought his pants and boxers back around his waist, fastening his belt buckle, looking up to see you grinning at him.

“Did you mean what you said? About- about all that stuff?” You asked, biting down on your lip, heat building in your face as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Every fucking word, baby.” He cradled your cheek, running his thumb along your jaw, his face radiating with joy and content. “Osita, this has been the best fucking birthday I’ve ever had. Never in a million fucking years did I think someone would even care enough to remember my birthday, let alone do all this shit for me. I never wanna have another goddamn birthday without you. Today has been perfect. I’m ready to go and take you home to our apartment. Tú y yo, Osita. Para el restoro de mi vida (Me and you, Osita. For the rest of my life.) I love you so much.”

Before Javi could lean down to kiss you again, your bodies both froze in fear as you heard the doorknob to the bedroom rattling. “Fuck…” Javi muttered to himself. “Wait right here, okay? I promise I’ll make sure no one finds out you’re in here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He gave you a quick kiss on the head before carefully closing the ensuite door, trying his best to fix his hair and shirt as he heard knocking on the other end.

“Jav! It’s Steve. I know you’re in there, you sneaky son of a bitch.”

Javi groaned as he opened the door, stepping out of his room to find Steve smirking as he crossed his arms against his chest. “Whatchya doin’ in there, buddy?”

“Fuck off, Murphy, I just- I had to go get something really quick.” Javi’s eyes darted up and down the hallway to make sure no one else was around.

“Whatever ya say man. Hey listen, all the girls are cashed out in the car so we’re gonna hit the road. I just wanted to say it was so good to see you, Peña. The two of you need to come by sometime now that we’re close. I know I’ve given you a lot of shit over the years, but I mean it when I say I’m really fucking happy for you. Happy birthday, ya grumpy old bastard.” Steve pulled in Javi for a hug, giving him one last pat on the back before pulling away. “And Jav?”

“Yeah, Murph?”

“Your fly’s undone.”

“Oh, fuck…” Javi muttered, quickly reaching down to zip up his pants while Steve was trying to keep himself from cackling.

You snuck out of the bathroom to press against the doorway, trying to figure out who had almost caught you and Javi. Not realizing that Javi hadn’t closed the door all the way, you leaned just a little too hard, forcing it open as you sheepishly peeked your head out behind Javi.

“Bye, sweetheart.” Steve winked at you before heading down the hallway and disappearing around the corner, your face beet red knowing you had completely blown your cover.

“Bye Steve.” You muffled through the hand now completely covering your face in embarrassment before looking back up at Javi. “Better him than your dad, I guess? Or God forbid, Maria?” You both grimaced, the idea of either of those two finding you in the state Steve had making you shutter.

“Jesus, I can’t even think about that.” You both laughed as Javi snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you flush with his chest. “Whaddya say we head home, roomie?” The name making you grin as you hugged your arms around his hips, laying his head against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Sounds good to me, birthday boy.”

The two of you made your way back out to the party, the number of guests dwindling from the late hours of the night the party had extended to. You said your goodbyes to the friends and family still lingering, making sure to give an extra long hug to Chucho, thanking him again for everything he had done to help make sure the party had gone perfectly.

“I can come over tomorrow if you need help cleaning up okay? Don’t need you complaining about your knees anymore than you already are.” You smiled, Chucho pulling you in for one last squeeze.

“Cabrón. Mis viejas rodillas están bien. (Asshole. My old knees are just fine). But if you wanted to come over tomorrow morning to help, I wouldn’t complain. I’m sure this one wants to come get the rest of his things and get out his old man’s hair once and for all.” He chuckled as he grinned at Javi, shaking his head at the two of you.

“Sounds good, we’ll see you tomorrow, Chucho. Thank you again. You’re the best. You ready, Jav?” You squeezed his hand, giving him a little nudge.

“Yeah, I just gotta ask Pops something real quick, I’ll meet you out by the car, okay?” He replied, giving you a kiss on the head as you gave Chucho one last wave before making your way back to the driveway.

“Qué necesitas, hijo?” (What do you need, son?). Chucho raised an eyebrow at Javi, watching his son fidget with his fingers, leg bouncing anxiously. Making sure you had disappeared from his sight, Javi looked around the crowd one more time before taking a shaky breath.

“I uh- I don’t need it now, but, I mean I’m still gonna give it some time- I um, I just wanted to know if, fuck, if um, I could- I could have mom’s ring?”

Chucho’s eye’s glistened, beaming at Javi as he wrapped his arm around his son. “Javier. That ring has been sitting on my nightstand since I got home from Maria’s party all those months ago. I’m just glad you finally asked and I didn’t have to put it in your pocket for you.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

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siilvan · 8 months

Text

bloodsport – III

prologue | part one | part two | next

characters: vladimir makarov

summary: after a successful escape, you try to convince yourself that the prison and makarov are behind you. things just never seem to go to plan, though.

genre: angst, slowburn, enemies to ?, fem!reader (callsign: petra, no desc.)

warnings: not proofread, cursing, canon-typical violence, poorly written combat, allusions to trauma and stress, mentions of typical murderous behavior from makarov (∶__∶), OG mak's backstory bc we don't know shit about the reboot lol

word count: 5.9k

note: my birthday's on the 3rd, so pls take this as a gift from me to you :) the support on this series has also been insane 😭 you guys are so sweet!! <33

also big shoutout to @roosterr bc i completely copied the way she writes texts in fics LMAO i hope it's okay with you bestie ilysm

"anyone else would be dead already."

what the hell does that mean?

you're lying on your back, absently staring up at the ceiling, those words replaying in your mind over and over again. yet another week has passed since "the incident," as the guards in the corridor so kindly put it.

clearly makarov had given his men a new order after you killed the younger doctor. not only did they avoid touching you, but they hardly even looked in your direction outside of required monitoring. doctor tarkovsky was singlehandedly providing your medical care, as well. the next time you saw the doctor - the morning after the incident - proved to be an interesting experience. while treating you, he made a comment about "the commander seeming angry."

you add it to your ever-growing list of questions.

blaring alarms interrupt your somewhat peaceful pondering. you shoot up, instinctively reaching for your belt to grab your gun, only to be reminded that you're unarmed. the guards in the hall are shouting at each other, appearing just as surprised as you are.

carefully, you rise from the bed and cross the room, trying to listen to what they're saying. if there was one benefit to your captivity, it was the small bit of russian that you've picked up on. amongst the frantic chatter, you can make out a few words:

attack. small team. breached. combat. prisoner.

your chest tightens as you step back from the door. the base is under attack, and whomever is leading the charge is enough of a threat to raise the alarms. a small team could never hope to contend with an entire ultranationalist stronghold, though. there's only one man, one team, that could succeed despite being so heavily outnumbered.

the one-four-one.

it has to be them. they're the only ones bold enough to stage an attack, and the only ones capable of pulling it off.

even if it's someone else, they're your ally now, and your only hope of making it out of here alive.

you can see the guards scrambling outside your cell, frantically following whatever orders were being barked at them through their radios. for now, they seem to disregard your presence in favor of organizing their forces to combat the threat, but you know it won't last. contrary to the size of the prison, you're the only captive being held here; any mention of "prisoner" is referring to you.

the area quiets down as most of the men rush to aid their fellow soldiers, leaving only the alarm to keep you company. you mentally curse as you consider your very limited options. without a set of keys to escape this cell, you're stuck here.

a purposeful set of footsteps rapidly approaching makes the decision for you. quickly, you dive just out of sight of the door, pressing your back to the wall. the person stops just outside and grumbles to himself as you hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock. the iron door swings open, and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep quiet as he stares into the empty space, confusion evident in the grunt that leaves him.

a second passes before he steps into the room, scanning the far side of it. your eyes fall to the knife on his belt, easily removable if you're fast enough, and you dive for it before he can turn around.

you tear the blade from its sheath and swiftly plunge it into the side of his neck, ripping a strangled cry from the soldier as he reacts too slowly to save himself. you pull him to the ground and lay his body flat, releasing a sharp breath once you confirm the kill. temporary relief floods your system, hastening your movements as you collect as much of his gear as you can.

immediately after you secure the last strap of the armor vest, you hear voices calling out from somewhere close by. searching for the guy you just killed, you assume. with one final gear check, you move to the same spot against the wall and wait for the group to get closer.

the first of the bunch steps into the room and freezes at the sight of the other man, and you take the opportunity to drop him with the rifle you had collected. the remaining members, two or three men, are quick to respond once the gunshots ring out. you peek around the corner as they rush forward with their guns drawn, electing to start the gunfight yourself.

you manage to shoot one down before the others notice you. a bullet whizzes past your head as you aim down the barrel and shoot another, forcing you to duck back into cover.

"you're cornered. come out and i'll let you live." the final soldier says, frustration lacing his command. you sit still, lying in wait until his impatience overpowers his better judgement. a tense silence fills the air between you, only broken by the soldier groaning and coming to you instead.

he circles the corner, weapon at the ready, but scans the room in too wide an arc. you finish him off and peek out into the hall again, finding it completely vacant.

the radios on the soldiers bodies suddenly come to life, and you hear a familiar voice on the other end. you pick one of them up and attempt to decipher the question to no avail. however, there is one word that you understand. prisoner.

"you should've sent a bigger group," you speak into the radio, feeling your lips twitch into a smile at the way makarov stops short.

he merely chuckles, though, and the smile drops. "you continue to impress me, lieutenant. let's see if you can escape." he replies, relaxed as ever. he switches channels, and the radio goes silent.

you travel down the path you took the first day, when makarov was accompanying you. there's little resistance beyond a few stragglers that you dispatch with ease. most of the forces are focused on the invaders, too busy to properly deal with you as you attack from behind. the number of enemies ahead of you increases the further you go - a sign that you're heading in the right direction.

eventually, you reach an exterior door and push it open.

to say the situation is chaotic would be an understatement. soldiers are hurrying across fields, arming themselves and their allies, shouting out various commands and information. you duck low and stick to the shadows, doing your best to avoid a firefight now that the enemy solidly has the advantage.

you make some distance and perk up at the sounds of gunfire. you've stumbled across the main battle. with a renewed sense of hope to push you forward, you go towards it, ending up crouched next to an APC as you search through the chaos for any friendly faces.

one of the nearby vehicles erupts into flames moments later, catching you off-guard and stealing your attention from the fight. scrambling to your feet, you stiffen as something smooth and cold is pressed against the back of your skull. the barrel of a gun. you raise your hands in surrender and pray that the person holding the weapon can be reasoned with.

"wait," a deep voice, husky and all too familiar, speaks from behind you. "petra? 's that you?" the man, captain price, lowers his gun, allowing you to spin around and look at him.

you're almost ready to shed tears upon seeing his face, equal parts concern and relief etched into his hard expression. he grabs ahold of your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as you nod, silently answering his question. a dark figure emerges from behind one of the vehicles at price's back and catches your eye.

the stark white skull mask instantly gives away his identity: ghost. he stops at your side, eyes crinkling behind the mask, and you can tell that he's giving you a happy look.

your eyes leave the pair and scan the area, hunting for the last two members of the team. there's no movement aside from the fighting and chaos in the distance. your gaze flits back to price as a lump begins to form in your throat and every scenario that you've cooked up during your captivity floods into your mind.

"where's soap and gaz?" you ask, voice sounding meek compared to the way you spoke earlier. price, clearly sensing the deeper meaning behind your words, pats your shoulder in a comforting gesture before withdrawing his hand.

"they're here, no need to worry," he starts, motioning for you to follow him. "the sergeants are protecting our backsides, making sure the chopper has a clear path. we're gonna meet 'em at the southside of the prison and exfil from there."

you fall in line with the two, muscle memory all but taking over as you repeat your prior strategy; keep to the shadows and only engage the enemy if absolutely necessary. the location that price described isn't terribly far and shouldn't be difficult to reach, so long as you don't get caught up in too many fights.

ghost contacts the sergeants as you move, updating them on your position. you learn through the conversation that the team came for you, and only you - makarov isn't a concern of theirs, even once you inform price of his presence. we'll slot the bastard once you're back on your feet, he says.

"we're gettin' close, it's just up here." ghost mutters lowly. you tighten your grip on your gun, anticipation steadily building inside of you the closer you get to the rendezvous point. you're this close to freedom, this close to putting this hellish place in the past and reuniting with your team. al-mazrah, the missile, your capture, makarov– all of them would sequester themselves to nothing more than memories.

a black hawk flies overhead before touching down at the designated spot. one of the back doors swing open just as it lands, revealing gaz's smiling face. he steps aside to allow the three of you to board, giving you an eager side-hug as you shuffle past him.

"petra, happy to see you in one piece!" soap's exclamation startles you as much as it overjoys you to hear, and you're suddenly swept up into a bone-crushing hug by the scotsman upon passing gaz.

"soap–! johnny, you're squeezing me too hard–!" you gasp out, still attempting to hug the man back despite your bones being turned to mush from the pressure. he releases you almost as quickly as he scooped you up and mutters an apology. said apology barely registers in your head due to the sight he greets you with, though.

there's a nasty scar over his left eye, jagged and obviously still in the process of healing. soap hardly seems to care about it, instead grinning at you like you were revived from the dead. you tap the area below your own eye to signal to him, brows furrowing in confusion. his hand mirrors your action and his face lights up, an audible "oh" falling from his lips.

"got it in al-mazrah," he says, waving off your worried look. "makes me look pretty cool, right?" he adds with a glance around the cabin, earning an affirmative hum from price and a shrug from ghost.

gaz snorts, slumping down on one of the seats and giving him a thumbs-up. "looks wicked, mate."

you collapse into another seat with a breezy laugh. "i'm just thankful that you're alive, all of you. i was starting to doubt whether you'd come." you confess, sharing a somber look with the rest of them.

ghost breaks the mood with a shake of his head. "'course we came. we're a team, no man left behind." he keeps his gaze locked on you as he talks, bringing an appreciative smile to your lips. your attention shifts to the window at your side, watching the stronghold fade away as the helicopter lifts off the ground and departs. you refuse to tear your eyes away until it disappears over the horizon, allowing you to take a deep breath for the first time in weeks.

⋆⋆⋆

upon arriving in safe territory, you're almost instantly pulled into a brief, but strong hug by laswell, who was waiting on the airstrip as the team landed. you're ushered into the base's medical wing by her and price for a proper checkup, which, thankfully, goes by swiftly. you've had enough of doctors and medicine to last you a lifetime.

"you're sending me home?" you ask, practically jumping up from the examination table you were sitting on. your gaze darts back and forth between price and laswell, irritation boiling under your skin as they try to placate you.

"y'need to rest, petra. you've just been through two weeks of hell." price responds, putting his hand on your shoulder and urging you to sit back down. you shrug it off and shake your head.

"captain, i was given a clean bill of health!" you argue while waving your arms in front of yourself. your wounds from the missile had mostly healed, reduced to minor marks on your skin and a raised scar on your side that was gradually fading. "i just want to get back in the field– i've been out of commission for weeks!"

laswell steps toward you, meeting your gaze with a sympathetic look. "it's protocol, lieutenant. you may be fine enough to work for now, but we can't put you or the team at risk." she counters, crossing her arms over her chest. "you need to recover." she adds a second later, earning a frustrated huff from you.

you know you'd be saying the same thing in their position. if it was price, ghost, soap, gaz– if any of them were captured, you'd be forcing them to take time off, too. you can't shake everything that's happened, though. you don't have much to show in the way of torture-related injuries, but the isolation alone was enough to make your head spin. you never felt safe, always waiting and anticipating makarov's next move. the longer you went without seeing or hearing about him, the more your suspicions grew.

a break would give you the chance to collect your thoughts and break yourself out of the doubt that's been stewing in your head ever since that first meeting. in the field, you need to be confident and decisive. there's no room for hesitation and self-doubt.

"we'll keep you updated," price starts, regarding you with a reassuring smile. "and, this won't be forever. just long enough for you to get your head on straight, yeah?"

you deliberate on it, eyes falling to the floor, and nod slowly. he's right. you're not reliable in this state.

"okay." you concede, focus shifting back to the two.

you're heading out again by the evening, saying your goodbyes to the squad on the very same airstrip that you landed on earlier in the day. soap nearly crushes you in another hug, forcing price to yank him off before you suffocate, gaz reminds you about ten different times to call if you need anything, and ghost runs down a lengthy list of relaxation techniques whilst loading your bags in the helicopter.

it's nigh-impossible to be upset about the situation when it's made clear that they don't want you to go, either. after two weeks of constant stress, everyone just wants to be together again.

you get so caught up in your impromptu partings that you fail to notice the unidentified soldier watching you from across the field. even the ever-attentive captain price misses the soldier dialing a number on his phone, his eyes narrowing as the chopper lifts off with you inside.

⋆⋆⋆

you step foot in your flat well after the sun's gone down. it's silent, save for the soft padding of your socks against the floor after you kick off your boots. your bags are abandoned at the end of your bed, something you'll unpack later, and you shed your jacket before tossing it on top of the pile.

makarov... what's his story?

with a low sigh, you rub at your tired eyes with the heels of your palms and try to erase the question that's been plaguing you for longer than you'd like to admit. between laswell's intel and the stories price has told, you can paint a picture of who the man is.

a person ruled by his ambition, you've determined. while price's stories were more focused on his own experiences with makarov and his allies, what laswell provided was concrete: he massacred civilians like it was nothing. what could possibly drive a man to that point?

the trip back home proved fruitless, with most results online simply listing information deemed "safe" for the public. you need to know more about him - you need a source that isn't going to sugarcoat or hide the ugly truth. most importantly, you need someone who can get you personal details.

you fish your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your contacts list. laswell is an option, but she's not likely to give you anything while you're supposed to be taking time off work.

a name - or rather, a codename - pops up in the list. your thumb hovers over the contact, debating on whether or not to call.

you give in and click the "call" button after a moment's consideration. the line rings until a cheerful voice greets you.

"ah, lieutenant!" nikolai beams, sounding far too energized at this hour. "price told me about the successful prison break, congrats on surviving the ultranationalists."

"thanks, nik." you chuckle at his enthusiasm. "is there any chance i could ask you for a favor? i need information, stuff that i think only you can get." you nervously shift your weight while asking the question, worried that you might be hitting a dead end.

"information? about what?"

"makarov."

nikolai goes quiet, and you think he's going to deny your request. but, just as you open your mouth to justify it, he speaks.

"you want private informaton, yes?" he mutters, causing you to let out a deep breath. "price hasn't told you everything, and you want to research the man that captured you. that is to be expected."

"give me a little time, i'll send you whatever i can find." he continues. you can hear typing in the background after, signaling that he was following through with it. you tell him goodbye with a small "thanks" and hang up, an immense weight lifting off your fatigued shoulders.

a hot shower would be nice right now. you haven't had one in weeks, and nikolai said that gathering everything would take a while. you might as well use the break instead of sitting around and twiddling your thumbs while waiting for him.

you trudge to the bathroom and turn the water on, stripping out of your clothes and leaving your phone on the counter. you hop in the shower and feel your aching muscles relax as soon as the warm water washes over them, soothing weeks of pain and discomfort. when you get out and wrap a towel around yourself, you finally feel relatively at ease for the first time since your escape.

your phone buzzes from nearby, and you blink at the screen after picking it up. a message from nikolai stares back at you.

sent what i have, hope it helps 22:43 pm

thanks, appreciate it! 22:43 pm

i'll let you know if i find anything else 22:44 pm

you quickly dry off and get dressed in more comfortable clothes, grabbing your laptop as you stroll into the living room and get settled on the couch. it only takes a couple minutes to access the files that nikolai sent, and upon seeing a page of folders to look through, you're left shocked at the sheer amount of information he gave.

it's overwhelming, just how much makarov has done in his career - if you can even call international terrorism a "career." you decide to begin at the top of the list, shaking off the uneasy feeling that settles in the pit of your stomach.

the contents of the folder go from typical, almost expected, crimes from someone like him, to acts that make you understand why price is wary of him. you sift through each file, studying the contents as if you're going to be quizzed on them, each word acting as another nail ripped out of your coffin.

the list of crimes seems endless. kidnapping, torture, trafficking, bombings, assassinations, mass murder... not only are you lucky to be uninjured, you're lucky to be alive. the privilege of being a "special" target, you presume. if not for your position in the task force, you'd be lying dead in a ditch or tortured to the brink of insanity. your stomach churns at the thought.

eventually, you reach a folder named "personal." it lives up to its name, as when you access it, the files are all details about the man himself. some of the basic information is known to you already, but most of it is entirely new - stuff you're sure was intentionally hidden away from curious eyes.

what you can find of his life before he began his reign of terror both answers your questions and adds more to the list. he was a paratrooper, a captain in the spetsnaz, regarded as a master in the field despite the list of complaints on his file. many of the men under his command considered him a natural leader; charismatic, cunning, but harsh in his methods. he received several comments from the higher-ups about his alarming behaviors, but it all came to a head when he was investigated for war crimes. he left the military to avoid the charges.

somehow, the crimes that got him discharged seem mild compared to what he's done since. you can't wrap your brain around why makarov treated you so... kindly, given everything you've read. he should have ended your life or made it a living hell, but instead, you got regular medical treatment, decent conditions, and mostly left alone during your imprisonment.

you sit back from the screen, sluggishly running a hand down your face. makarov didn't fight to keep you captured. if anything, he was happy to let you escape. it doesn't make sense. he went through the effort of capturing you alive and gained nothing from it. for a man that favors the zero-sum game, he's not playing it well.

unless this is his gain. getting in your head, confusing you, forcing you to think about him when you should be focusing on recovering. he's bogging you down, preventing you from being reliable for your teammates.

or, maybe you're looking into things too deeply. overestimating just how clever one man can be.

your phone buzzes from its spot on the cushion, and you blink at the bright screen, squinting to read the notification. it's a text message from an unknown number. a few different people flash through your mind, potential allies that could have changed their numbers recently, but no one stands out. you exhale and click the notification to open up the message fully.

feeling well? 12:35 am

you stare at the message for a minute. it can’t be price or any of the boys, you already have their phone numbers. you highly doubt that laswell changed hers without updating you, and nikolai probably hasn’t change his in the two hours since your last conversation. just as you go to type a response, two more messages pop up.

recovering at home is preferable, isn't it? 12:36 am

much more comfortable than a medical wing. 12:36 am

who is this? 12:37 am

take a guess - m 12:37 am

a chill creeps up your spine as the realization dawns on you. it's makarov; not only does he have your phone number, but he knows you're not at base. he's managed to track your location in less than six hours.

you drop your phone on the coffee table and shoot a wary glance around the room before checking to make sure your front door is locked. once you're sure of it, you start to pace around the room, wringing your hands together. the smart decision would be to call someone - price, laswell, one of the boys, someone that can get here quickly or send a person in their place.

you're not defenseless by any means, but there's no telling what makarov knows. he could be halfway across the world or in the very same city, and you have no way of finding out without putting yourself at risk. you may have gotten lucky in al-mazrah, but you can't rely on luck.

your phone lights up again, and from your position a few feet away, you can just barely make out what the screen says.

let's talk, lieutenant. 12:40 am

no fucking way. you're not entertaining the madman that you just escaped.

you need to get out; take a walk, clear your head. makarov knows where you are, but that doesn't mean he's actually here. for all you know, it could be a lucky guess. you throw on a jacket and slip on a pair of shoes before shoving your phone in your pocket, hastily stumbling out the door. the crisp night air hits you the second you step out, making you draw your jacket tighter around yourself as you start down the sidewalk.

your brisk - practically panicked - walk does little to calm your nerves initially. you have to force yourself to slow down, strolling along at a more leisurely pace. after a couple minutes, your shoulders droop and the panic begins to dissipate.

the late hour means that you're the only person out right now. all you have for company is the occasional breeze that sweeps past, and you think that you prefer it this way.

until your phone buzzes. you stop dead in your tracks and pick it up, letting out a relieved breath at soap's name flashing on the screen. you answer the call with an easy smile.

"hey! i didn't expect you to pick up," soap laughs on the other end. "realized how late it was after dialin' your number." he adds, pulling a chuckle from you.

"haven't been able to sleep, so i figured i'd take a walk." you shrug, as if he can see you.

"ah, figured you'd pass out the second you landed." he concedes while you absentmindedly toe at the ground, eyeing your surroundings. "just wanted to check in– make sure everything is going okay with you."

for a moment, you debate on mentioning the messages from makarov. logically, it's the right thing to do; your team needs to know about any potential threats. however, there's a little part of you that hesitates to say anything. you feel the urge to keep it a secret, to wait and see what happens. makarov's given you useful intel before, maybe you can get more out of him.

"yeah, i'm doing all right," you mutter, reassuring soap. "just want to get back to work as soon as i can. i miss you guys."

soap gives you an appreciative hum. "y'just gotta heal up quick, l.t.! we're all missing you here. ghost and price are meaner than you are."

"they're not 'mean,' they just don't tolerate as much nonsense from you and gaz as i do." you counter with a playful laugh, pulling a groan from soap.

"it's not nonsense, it's– what?" soap suddenly stops talking, and you hear a voice in the background of the call. he says something to the person before exhaling dramatically and speaking into the phone again. "sorry 'bout that, it was price. apparently we've got somethin' to handle– a wrecked shadow company transport, i think. i'll send a message after we're done, yeah?"

you wave your hand while talking, again, as if he can see you. "don't worry about it, just stay safe out there. let me know how it goes."

the two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you end the call with a smile still plastered on your face. your brows furrow as you immediately receive another call, though. the number that flashes across the screen makes you grip the phone tighter, your knuckles turning white from the strain.

makarov, of course. you decline the call with an irritated sigh and spin on your heel, heading back to your apartment. another one comes through seconds later, which you choose to simply ignore this time. you speed up the short walk to your front door and slam it closed behind you, locking it just as quickly.

"you are surprisingly difficult to get ahold of, petra."

you whip around and press your back to the door, locking eyes with the man you tried so desperately to avoid. makarov stands in the middle of the room, a smug grin on his face, his arms loosely crossed over his chest as he stares you down.

"how the hell did you find me so fast?" you sneer at him, hand tightening around the set of keys in your palm. he's wearing a thick vest and armor plates - they won't save you, but the keys might buy you enough time to reach the gun in your bedroom.

"i have my ways," he tilts his head to the side, moving to lean against the back of your couch. "i needed to speak with you, and you weren't answering the phone. this was my only option."

you scoff at the claim, briefly loosening your grip. "no, you also have the option of leaving me alone." you argue, stepping further into the room. "besides killing you, we don't have any business to discuss."

"is that so?" makarov chuckles, glancing over his shoulder. you follow his gaze and land on your laptop. it's turned on again, with one of the pages detailing his personal history displayed on the screen. "you'll be very interested in what i have to say, lieutenant."

you bite your tongue, shifting your weight and dragging your focus back to him. "fine. tell me, then."

makarov straightens, his gaze flitting back to you. the edges of the keys dig into the skin of your palm, the bite of the cold metal keeping you grounded as he stalks toward you, like a predator approaching a prey animal. those alarm bells start going off in your head again, every instinct screaming at you to preemptively strike or run.

when he's a few feet away, you lunge. jabbing your keys forward, you try to hit one of the weak spots of his vest, aiming for the one of the gaps near the straps.

the training he underwent years ago is made readily apparent as makarov easily grabs your wrist and twists it, disarming you in one smooth motion. you try to use your other hand to break free, only to end up with both hands in his iron grip. you're spun around and shoved against the wall with your hands behind your back, trapped between your bodies.

you struggle, but that only encourages him to tighten his grip, firmly pinning your hands. he presses forward, using his own body weight to prevent you from fighting him off.

"you're predictable, petra," he mutters, the comment making you thrash against him. "you can't see past yourself– i am freely offering you information that your allies would die to gather themselves. take advantage of this generosity."

"i hate you," you seethe, writhing and trying to break free of his hold. he doesn't budge even a little, chuckling softly next to your ear as he leans in closer.

"good. i like that." makarov murmurs, his voice low and controlled, warm breath fanning over your skin. heat floods through your veins when he speaks, which you attribute to anger towards him.

until he nudges you again, his upper body falling almost perfectly in line with the curve of your back, his hands loosening slightly and providing your red-marked wrists with some relief. it just now occurs to you how close he is, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your spine forcing your own staggering breathing to calm itself and match his. his cropped hair tickles the side of your ear as he hovers next to you, his side profile visible in the edge of your vision.

you bite your tongue again, though for a different reason than earlier. holding any feelings but hatred and contempt for your enemy - you might as well mark yourself as a traitor if that happens. you can't allow yourself to fall for the games that he's definitely playing with you. the task force needs you, and they need whatever intel makarov can provide you with right now.

"i can be civil," you concede, barely above a whisper. "i won't attack if you don't." you add a moment later, pursing your lips.

you can see the edge of his lips twitch from the corner of your eye. makarov releases your wrists after a beat and steps back, giving you enough space to turn around and face him, pressing your back flat against the wall.

"do you trust the commander of shadow company?" he asks, bluntly. you narrow your gaze, huffing at the thought.

"graves? not by a longshot. i can trust him enough to shoot your guys before he shoots me, but that's it." you reply in an equally blunt tone.

"do you believe he is attached to the general's plans?" he says, and you deliberate before shaking your head. it wouldn't make sense, given graves' recent allyship with urzikstan. makarov continues, appearing satisfied with your answer. "you're correct. the shadow is not aware of shepherd's plans any more than your team is."

"how does this help me?"

"you will need him to cooperate in order to take down general shepherd," makarov asserts. you tilt your head curiously, urging him to elaborate. "which means, unfortunately, that you will have to work with him. my men can handle the general's lap dogs, but commander graves is the only person that can locate the general himself."

of course. your catalogue of enemies that you have no choice but to work with just keeps expanding.

"i see." you mumble, fingers twitching at the prospect of working with graves. tolerating his soldiers is one issue, but the commander is a whole other ballpark. "i still don't understand– why are you giving me all of this?"

makarov finally tears his gaze from yours for the first time since you separated. he walks over to the front door, right next to your spot against the wall, and unlocks it with a small twist of the lock. he turns toward you, though his eyes do not lift to yours again.

"the enemy of my enemy is my friend," he utters, swinging the door open. "we'll be in touch. do not ignore me next time i contact you."

you nearly miss his eyes flicking up to your face, the action so short that it feels like a trick of the light. he walks out of your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud, stopping you from watching him as he disappears into the night. you don't think you want to know where he goes, but one thing that you can say for certain is that it won't be the last you see of him.

you'll be seeing him even sooner than you can imagine.

taglist: @sofasoap, @roosterr, @rohansregret, @lonesome-doves, @thorrsexual, @miss-nob0dy, @woodeelf, @fbs-fc-ur-mommy, @soap-mactavish, @itsyellow, @johfaam0, @cumbermovels, @chxe-zdechnac, @imagineswritersblog, @emorgz33, @k4rthon, @ponyboys-sunsets, @frazie99, @chensipstea

⋆ feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist! (18+ only please <3)

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #makarov x reader #vladimir makarov x reader #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #sylph.writes

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Note

giving kendall roy a blowjob pls

i have a fic about this here buuuttt i've been so down bad for ken lately and am embarrassed to say i literally dropped all my WIPs to also write this. inspired by this gif from @technicolourtelevision. also please follow my succ sideblog if u are a kendall girlie like myself @kendollroyco!

warnings: smut under the cut (18+ only, oral sex m receiving, degradation, dom!kendall - sorry but i want him to be mean to me) not proofread, and potentially just bad -- i wrote this in like a 30 minute fugue state.

first off, where you do this is kind of important because there are sooooo many good opportunities. maybe you work for him and he's making you suck him off under your desk, his hand down the front of your blouse. you have to go to the bathroom after to clean yourself up because your mascara is smudged and he's ruined your hair. or maybe you're on your knees for him in the back of a car, and he's refusing to roll up the partition. the straps of the gown you've got on are falling off your shoulders, and you're worried about getting caught but he's shoving your head down and he's whispering shit like 'but you're taking it anyways, aren't you?' and you can't help but moan as he shifts his hips so you take him even deeper.

but REALLY what i think about is like, in the most recent episode when he talks about not sleeping well. you're his girlfriend who lives with him, but you hardly see him. and one night when he comes home late you can just tell he's tense, like, ready to snap at anyone who gets in his way. you're curled up wearing one of his old harvard sweatshirts maybe watching tv or looking at your phone and he looks so fucking good in one of those suits that fits him like a glove.

when you ask him how he's doing, he's short and snippy. 'fine.'

'you stressed or something?' you ask, rather than start an argument.

'fuckin', uh, i don't know, what does it look like?'

you're sort of taken aback by how rude his response it, standing over you with his hands on his hips. 'don't tell me you waited up this late for me....' he's trying to chastise you, but you can see right through him.

'you're working too much' you sit up.

'uh-huh, right. i don't want to hear your shit right now, i'm fuckin' exhausted-' and he's trying to be mean, to push you away.

'i bet. all you do is toss and turn at night,' you agree.

you reach out, hook your fingers around the cool silver of his belt buckle and yank. he steps forward, even if his eyebrows are still pinched together, his lips curled down into a frown.

'i could give you something that might help.'

by the time you've pulled his briefs down to his ankles, his face has neutralized, even though his hands are still on his hips. you drop to your knees, ignoring the chill of the italian marble. he smiles a little, then, puts a hand on top of your head.

you don't go slow, you don't want to, and he doesn't let you. he pulls your hair and jerks his hips into your mouth. you take him all, using your hands to spread the slick from gagging on him several times around. of course, he talks you through it, tells you exactly what to do and how he wants it in that deep, raspy voice, which only gets deeper when he's turned on.

'god, you're such a fucking slut.'

and you don't care about looking pretty while you blow him. no, you might normally try to be cute about it, but when he's mean it only makes you more feral. you choke and gasp until tears run from the corner of your eyes and you're drooling, straddling his foot and grinding yourself against his black prada oxford's.

you whine and mewl around him, mouth so full the noises are unintelligible. 'you're so pathetic,' he groans, looking down at you, and you can tell he's getting close because his voice doesn't have the same conviction as before. 'that's it, atta girl, just take it.'

the more you allow yourself to get into it, the more turned on you get. the more turned on you are, the more desperate and filthy you want to feel. it just keeps building, compounding. until you take him just a little too far and retch. 'easy, easy.' kendall pulls back, his voice stern.

glancing up, he almost looks concerned. he scolds you. 'control yourself.'

you're pissed that it nearly sobers you up. 'shhh,' you hiss, swat his hand away from where it's landed on your cheek.

'okay, fine, if you fuckin' want it that bad.' his fingers fist the back of your head again.

immediately, you wrap your lips back around his cock. you use both hands to jerk him while you suck on his tip, bobbing your head and humming around him.

he gets quiet, and that's your cue. he's not great at using his words when he's about to come, but it's a good indication to keep up the rhythm you've built and not stop under any circumstances.

'uh-huh, that's-fuck!' ken makes sure he's buried in the back of your throat when he comes, hard, his hips stilling their movements, but he keeps your head in place with both his hands until he's sure you've swallowed everything he has to give you.

at some point, you pull away and slump against the back of the couch. your eyes are watering, your face feels impossibly hot, and your jaw aches. it's hard to see straight, so you cover your eyes with your hand.

'jesus,' kendall mutters your name.

you peek at him between your fingers to see him squat down. now he's on the same level as you. he moves your hand away from your face, a look of genuine curiosity etched in his features. you'd never blown him like that before. 'where'd that come from, sweetheart?'

'it's dumb,' you shake your head, a little embarrassed. 'i listened to this podcast...'

the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, hand under your chin so you are forced to look at him. 'uh-huh?' he asks. 'at home all day fuckin' uh....taking notes on how to give me good head?'

'shut up,' you go to smack his head away, feeling a new warmth rise to your cheeks, but he grabs your wrist and hauls you against his chest, nose poking into your hair, lips on your cheek.

'is there, uh, anything else they had to say on there i might be interested in learning about?'

'potentially,' you answer. 'if you have all night...'

he laughs, a comforting rumble right into your ear. 'i do.'

#idk what it is but like there is something about this man's manic dick i cannot stop thinking about #like this is so disgusting i'm hiding myself in shame rn #asks #writing #kendall roy #kendall roy x reader #succession writing #kendall roy smut

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yeokii · 11 months

Text

# types of tropes w enha !!

₊﹒wc! 2.7k

₊﹒warnings! non-idol!enha, gn!reader (but I kinda wrote it with she/her pronouns in mind so if you see she/her pronouns im v sorry pls ignore), profanity, mentions of alcohol (only in jake's), mentions of skinship, mentions of stalker behaviour (its a joke, nothing serious tho) mentions of being high (ITS A JOKE), mentions of blood in Riki's one, spelling and grammar errors!!

₊﹒note! yen and Kayla my fave bff helped me w the tropes!! ngl got carried away with junwons one

₊﹒requested by this anon !!

# lee heeseung ⎯ coworkers to lovers

IT JUST FITS HIM SO WELL

heeseung would def catch feelings first when you asked him to help organise the files

HE ALWAYS AND I MEAN ALWAYS takes up the offer whenever you need help with something.

you want a drink? bro will bring you the whole menu

literally will do anything to show that he's into you.

bro just loves being near you.

but this one time where he dropped you home when it started raining heavily, you started to question ur feelings for him.

and so the mutual pining begins 😞

yall both would be mad blushing whenever you both interact w each other.

both of your friends would be so mad because they know you both like each other

like why aren't yall kissing already??

you kinda did know that heeseung did like you back but the man was oblivious

so you asked him out 😁

SUSHI DATE FTW!!

and you both hung out in his car after the date finished and this man did not want to take you home.

it was painful pls 😭

fastfoward to when you both start dating and he come to your house and picks you up so you can both go to work at the same time.

he would bring your daily coffee orders aswell

he would even teach you how to play league of legends help 😭

skinship is a must!!

give it a few months and he would know you more than you know yourself

PLS HES SO CUTE SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN AN AWARD

"baby, let me take you on a date after you finish work."

"I swear to god, it better not be a ramen date again."

₊﹒other members under the cut !!

# park jongseong ⎯ brother's best friend

no cuz its so jongseong of him to fall in love with his best friend's sibling

he would know you since he was like 3 and he prolly always saw you as his best friend's annoying little sibling 😭

but you were literally completely in love with this man

if you could kiss the ground he walked on, you would.

PLSSS HE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO U

just a few glances here and there

but when you started to grow up, you kinda ignored him aswell cuz you started to get a life 💀

BUT U STILL KINDA LIKED JAY THOO

it wasn't very visible as it was before b4

but this hurt jays ego like why aren't you foaming in the mouth whenever you see him???

BYE SOMEONE PLS HUMBLE HIM

so when you both were at a party

YOU LOOKED ETHEREAL

and it bugged him why were you hanging out with other people??

this man really thought you had no social life plss

you looked so pretty and he didn't even look at anyone else, it was just you.

this man fell in love with you gn.

and then from there, he saw you as a romantic aspect or wtv.

IT WAS SO FUNNY BECAUSE NOW HES THE ONE FOAMING AT HIS MOUTH WHENEVER HE SEES YOU

you kinda noticed that he liked you because he believed actions > words

he started picking you and dropping you off to school when your brother couldn't

he would even bring one of your favourite snacks along the way too

he would text you and talk to you more often

so one night while you and ur bsf had a sleepover

jay also had one w ur brother

AND BROOOO HE WAS SO JEALOUS U COULD SEE HIS EYES TURNING RED

jay vamp era frfr

he was being very passive aggressive to ur bsf

SO U CONFRONTED HIM 😁

and bro just straight up said "I like you"

followed by "I don't like when they talk to you"

so ur just there 🧍‍♀️

like helppp it was so awkward

after the confession, he asked you on a date and ofc you said yes

IT WAS SO CUTE TOO

but a few months in the relationship, you both are getting comfy with each other

its either a full on classy restaurant date or staying at home and watching Disney+

theres no in between

and ofc your brother is okay with this as he gets used to it

he loves to act like he doesn't care for you but you know he loves you

"no I'm not blushing!"

"jay you so are! I didn't know you liked backhugs!"

"SHUT UP"

# sim jaeyun ⎯ exes to lovers

it would def be you who broke up w him

I js don't see Jake calling off a relationship

and it would prolly be over the summer when you thought you and the aussie boy (😝😝😝) didn't click anymore.

mans would be sooo devastated like wdym ya'll don't click anymore???

he would spend more time thinking abt why you thought the relationship didn't work than actually being sad

mans really tried to move on but he srsly couldn't do it.

he was so comfortable with you, he couldn't do that with anyone else.

all his friends witnessed him going through the five stages of greif

it was sad actually 😭

he would still have you as his lock screen like he never even bothered to change it

so probably after 8 months of going through crappy dates and drinking his heart away (he got drunk on apple juice) he decided he wanted you back

so he reached out to you

found out you work at a cafe through his 'sources' (jungwon)

and when you see him he's like "whatttt? you work here????"

its giving stalker behaviour

do better jake 😕👎

and now that he KNOWS you work here

he comes there everyday at 4 right when you're shift begins

bro is the master at small talk

and that is when the small talk with you goes on for an hour and you realise its been an hour since your shift is finished.

he offers a ride back home

and you agreed since you didn't want to walk home alone

you didn't really see the problem with exes being friends and you told him abt it too but

NO NO NO

this man did not work this hard for ya'll to just be friends again

so he waited until your shift finished and decided to bring you your fav flowers

and he asked you if you wanted to go out

and he brought you to a picnic

and you're like "Jake??? its night???"

"you always wanted to have a picnic with me so I thought why not?"

plsss you were shocked that he remembered you wanting to have a picnic with him but you both never had the time.

he even brought your fav sandwiches and drinks it was so cute

and when he dropped you back home he confessed everything and he told you he wanted to get back together

after thinking abt it for a few days

you decided you wanted to get back tgt

so you showed up at his house with flowers in your hand (it was rlly cute plss 😭😭😭)

and when you both get back together

he really tried to make the relationship even more stronger an always assured you to talk to him if you had any problem

its cute because this man is never gonna let u go

like whenever ya'll walk tgt, he's gonna be holding your hand

you're making something in the kitchen? he's backlogging you

you wanna pee? this man's gonna follow you into the bathroom

jake's so cute plss😭😭

jungwon swears he's the reason you both got back tgt

"please you looked so funny when you fell on your butt!"

"remember the time where I dumped you?"

# park sunghoon ⎯ first love

I feel like this boy would not fall in love that easily which is why he hadn't had his first love

sure he had his first likes, loads of partners, but never love

and then baam

you came in 😎

he felt like it was one of those tv series where everything was in slow motion and like the spotlight was just on you

he just felt like it was just you and him in the ice skating rink

like bro's brain just flew through the window

and ofc his kdrama moment had to end because u fell on ur ass trying to skate.

and bro let me tell you

this man procreated the loudest snort alive to mankind

and ofc you glared at him

which made him run to you, helping you up

"hi, I'm sunghoon."

"ok"

he thought he would cry right there.

he apologised and asked to make it up by trying to take you out for ice cream.

ofc you couldn't say no

and you both got to know each other well

this man was scared because he thought he wouldn't se you again

so what did he do?

this man used every pickup line known to mankind

NO NO NO

he did not ask your number

INSTEAD he turned into the rizzlord

oh was it a sight to see

NO CAUSE YOU KNEW HE WANTED YOUR PHONE NUMBER

he was js really nervous

so u asked his phone and saved ur phone number

"maybe I could like yk teach you how to skate next time?"

"wtv you say hoon."

# kim sunoo ⎯ best friends to lovers

oh god the mutual pinning..

YOU BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER

WHY ARENT YALL SUCKING EACH OTHERS FACES RN?

riki asked calmly

and I wholeheartedly agree

you thought sunoo was js your bsf

which explains why he always looks out for you

waiting for you at the school gate everyday even if you're like 30 minutes late

or always getting you fav drink

or always covering for you if you got into trouble

LIKE NAHHHHH

be so fr rn

riki could not stand it

bro was about to grow white hairs

this man was the literal definition of a third wheel

everytime riki tried to talk abt you two

you always dismissed it

AND SUNOO WAS BUTTHURT

like were you that blind?

you were js scared you were gonna get rejected and all these years of friendship would go to waste

and ngl sunoo felt the same

so ofc your matchmaker riki pulled sunoo aside and asked him how he felt abt you

and pls sunoo loves you more than himself

he literally only trusts you

and you were the same for him

#goals

so riki used his amazing megamind brain and asked yall to talk abt your feelings

and it took a while to open up after riki left and by the end of it you both had shared your first kiss with each other 😁

NGL IT WAS REALLY CUTE

you both were red

and now since y'all are in a relationship

riki hated it more

"BOOO get a room."

ur dates were so cute

either it was hot choco dates or ''lets go play in the snow' dates

you always enjoyed it

because you are with sunoo (I physically cringed)

"maybe I should call u the sun cuz u brighten up every room u walk into."

"r u high?"

# yang jungwon ⎯ academic rivals

his jaw dropped when he saw the results

HELLO A 95???

man hasn't got anything below a 97

and there you were

waving ur results sheet at him with a clear 96

bro wanted to slap that smirk right off your face

so he asked the teacher to check his paper again

bye the teacher did not give two fucks

so he checked it himself

he was actually supposed to get a 94 but lets keep that to ourselves 😁

he js waited until the next exam to rot around and by that this man took a mental screenshot of every page in the book

a 94???

GOODBYE.

if there was a dissapear button in life

he would press 65 times

and what did you get

a 97.

happiest day of your life ngl

this man had a whole fit

HE COULD NOT BELIVE IT

the teacher actually had enough of you

and gave you both detention

all you had to clean the classroom

'bonding time' she said

'it'll be fun' she said

so when you started to clean the room

all you both could give each other were side eyes and silent curses

it was painful actually

you both divided the room saying this was his side and that was your side

but there were tiny moments were you were staring at him, admiring his side profile

THAT WAS SO UNLIKE U

U WERE SUPPOSED TO HATE HIM

but why did he look so ethereal when he was sweeping the floors

GET A GRIP.

so there was this moment were you both close to each other and you tripped on your untied shoelaces and landed ontop of him

he landed on his ass

so romantic I know.

and you both stared at each other for a long time (5 seconds)

before he pushed you off him

"EW."

he stood up and went back to sweeping and you were still on the floor

you stood and started cleaning again

but what you didn't realise was that he kept staring at you

occasionally having eye contact

after that day, you both became softer to each other

YOUR TEACHER HAD HER JAW DROPPED WHEN HE SAW YOU BOTH NOT FIGTHING WHEN JUNGWON GOT A 94 AND YOU GOT A 96

like hello???

where the hair ripping and shitty insults??

your friend were in school because you stopped talking bt how much you hate him and so were his friends

scary really

both of your friends thought that you both were planning some big revenge or something

but then they caught you smiling at him while walked past you??

they called an exorcist immediately

THIS IS NOT OK??

you both didn't whine and ask the teacher to change when you both were paired up for a project

you both had a fun time and you actually had a good convo

you both called truce

and you both started to not hate each other

and one day while you both talked you had a moment of silence when you just said 'fuck it' and went in and kissed him

GET A ROOM

and the next day in school

you both walked holding hands

everyone was so confused because um what the actual fuck?

"can't believe I used to hate this pretty face."

"ew jungwon"

"shut up before we go back to being enemies"

# nishimura riki ⎯ hates everyone but you

when he heard about love, all he could say was 'bs'

like be so fr

BUT THAT WAS UNTIL YOU ENROLLED IN THE SCHOOL

he swore he could hear wedding bells

everything abt you was so perfect

like he never had an ideal type but god damn bro

might as well have one rn

he like froze for a sec

crazy ik

tbh you didn't acknowledge his existence for a few days

until you saw him playing basketball w his friends

and his basketball met w ur face

bye ur nose did not stop bleeding

man came rushing to u when he realised it was u

he took you to the nurse and when you were all ok

he sheepishly grinned at you and apologised for hitting you w his basketball

you were quick to forgive him and you started to become friends since that day

everyone was in shock because you were the first person he'd ever talked other than his friends

and you were so confused because everyone kept telling this was so unlikely of him

he had never tied someones shoelaces when they were untied

or he had never lent someone his jacket

even to his friends

the privilege was showing

like u were so confused because he doesn't do this with other people

he prolly be like 😐 but when you're there hes like 😁

soo you asked him

"idk I like you"

HELLO???

"oh uhm haha same."

BYE YALL ARE SO AWKARD

it took a few weeks for him to grow some balls and ask you to be his s/o

and this man needed to always be on your side

he's gaming? ur on his lap.

he's playing basketball? ur playing with him.

UR LIKE EVERYWHERE

its so cute

makes me sick

"BABY WHERE R U GOING?"

"riki I need to pee."

perm taglist!! @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom

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yanderecandystore · 8 months

Note

I always wonder about the bully, what would happen if s/o just moved from the school, like they can't take the bullies anymore. And when they finally find them they see s/o kissing their lover and holding hands. Bonus point if the lover said "don't worry, no one will bully you anymore i'm here" just fluff pls no bad end for the lover but i want to see the bully get pissed hahahaahha

What time is it? It's "Eat the hearts of my ocs" o'clock! But we're WEEKS late!

(I'm so sorry for the wait ;-; I have no idea when it comes to passage of time)

I want to change the request just a little bit because it's been a while but I've been referring to my bully ocs as college age/older- I know it's just fluff but I want to just add a little sprinkle of pain✨

[🚚🧳🌉] This post has something similar to that-

TW/Tags: They/Them being used in the beginning as a neutral singular pronoun, just in case anyone gets confused, you can say it was either one of the twins// they went loco while you were gone // delusional, slight victim blaming mentality, bullying, stalking, slight mentions of pain/harm, mentions of insomnia // nothing happens in this one to be honest.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Breaking apart [Yandere!Bully!OCs x Gender Neutral!Reader - Headcanons]:

🎇 Let me set the stage for a quick sec!🎇

It was just so sudden that they couldn't avoid it sooner- Perhaps you managed to keep your mouth shut for long enough so that they wouldn't hear the rumors of it, or since you didn't have close friends (thanks to them) no one was able to snitch on you.

Maybe you didn't even give them any hints around your social media, nothing seemed out of ordinary in your posts-

Not even the teachers seemed to know of your plans, or if they did, they made sure to keep it a well hidden secret.

The only change to your usual routine was that small yet noticeable hopeful glint in your eyes, as if something was keeping you in a good mood even while having to deal with your bully each day.

Ah, for a few days they thought that it was because of them, going as far as thinking that now was that time- Finally, finally you would have come to terms with your own feelings towards them and finally confess it for all to hear! It would be a pitiful display but they were sure it would be all worth it in the end.

You never did that, however. The day after you changed schools, so quickly that they couldn't make any plans to stop you.

Their younger self felt more insulted than anything, you dare to run away from them your entire life than to deal with your responsibilities?… It was pathetic and cowardly, from their point of view.

Then again, in their point of view you were also responsible for the way they would treat you, for the countless nights left without sleep, and for the constant paranoia that plagues them.

It was so obvious (to them) that you just didn't want to deal with the shame of liking your bully, and although changing schools was an ""exaggeration"" on your part, they thought they could deal with your lack of presence just fine.

They didn't. It only made it so much worse.

But it wasn't until later on, after years of being away from you that they would be able to understand why you left school…

Finding you by chance after so long was a miracle, to be honest! It was impressive how you managed to hide yourself online so well and ever better yet in public.

You wouldn't be able to understand the joy, the rush that runs through their veins as they see you after such a long time of no signs of your presence or of your existence! Ah, but then again it made sense, right? They were awful to you, weren't they? They didn't show you how much they actually admired you.

But they're older now! They matured! They would never act the same childish way that pushed you away in the first place!-

That's what they thought as they kept pushing people out of their way so they could follow your silhouette, desperately wanting to call for you but not having the strength to fully scream it out- Ah, wasn't this like old days? Wasn't this just like the time they would chase you? Although, you haven't noticed them yet due to the busy crowd…

It was when you finally stopped walking, your back turned to them that they finally were able to see you properly, you changed yet not enough to be fully unrecognizable- You grew yet in their eyes everything seemed to be just like in highschool all over again, but this time they promised that they would make things right!... Until they saw you hugging a stranger.

They didn't know who it was, and for all they cared it could be a friend, a family member, it didn't matter at all, all that it mattered was that they could see you again-

Yet before they could make any advance towards you, to finally speak their mind, they see you and the stranger hold hands and kiss. An innocent and very short action that to your bully feels like an eternity in Hell.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

→ Adrien Coldwell:

It's been such a long, long time since Adrien last saw you, last heard of you- In general he might as well have thought you were dead! And for the longest time, he really thought that!

So tell me, how do you think he felt seeing you in the arms of some nobody?

It's a joke, right? An unfunny prank you want to put him through, surely this isn't actually happening in front of his sleepy, barely holding each other up eyes.

Oh… Wait. You were never one for jokes, especially not with him, of course…

"... [Y/n]? [L/n] [Y/n]? It's you, isn't it? It really is you, isn't it?" Adrien's voice is lazy, tired, devoid of all that smugness and confidence he used to treat you with. He just needs to confirm that you really are here.

Ah… but when you turn around, your happy face goes back to one he recognized oh so well, of horror.

"It's you.. It is you, I shouldn't have doubted it- You've changed..! I'm… it's been so long, hasn't it..?" His sorrowful words hit you as if he was talking to a longtime friend, which you're not.

Ah, his state however… It's deteriorating. You knew who he was by his voice alone, it would be impossible to forget it after having it drilled into your brain with all that resentment and fear you harbored. But to see him in this depressed, messy state almost makes you feel pity towards him… What happened while you were gone?

That didn't matter now, however, you couldn't simply turn a blind eye to all of what he did, and all that healing you've done shouldn't be so easily broken just because he recognized you in public.

You considered your options, you could curse him off, talk to him indifferently and politely… Or simply walk away.

You didn't owe him anything, talking to him would only make you more uncomfortable than you already are- Who would blame you for not wanting to talk with your past tormentor?? You took your partner's hand and urged him to leave with you.

"Are you going already?.. I… I need to talk with you, maybe another time if you're busy.." He almost sounded considerate and respectful of your boundaries if it wasn't for his hand holding your arm and stopping you from getting away. Possessively clingy onto you almost in a threatening way.

You felt this sensation before, yet you wish you didn't. You wish you weren't as terrified as you were but as long as the situation keeps on escalating you can't help but feel more and more like you were still in highschool being helpless and scared of turning your head to face him. Like a cursed time machine, you're brought back to feeling worried of what will happen if you tell him to stop, to leave you alone! You remember how no one used to believe you when you mentioned being bullied, how no one dared to say anything because "oh well, is just the Coldwell!" As if that alone gave him rights to treat you the way he did-

But this time you weren't completely alone, your partner took his hand away from your arm- A stern look in his eyes as he lightly pushed Adrien away.

"I don't know what you want but I'm pretty sure I know who you are, and they don't want to talk with you. Leave us alone." It wasn't a threat, it wasn't insulting nor intimidating and yet it set the message very clearly: He wasn't letting Adrien enter back into your life if you didn't want to.

"Who even is this, huh, [Y/n]?" Adrien gave your partner a little slap on his hand, it wasn't clear if he felt insulted by his presence in general or by him touching Adrien without permission.

"[Y/n], this isn't funny anymore, stop ignoring me, please-" A request that would go to deaf ears, as you continued to distance yourself from him while your partner stood in between you two.

"They don't want to. I'm warning you, go away." During high school every student feared the power and status that the Coldwell family held on their grasp, everyone envied and admired their wealth, but they all knew that if you crossed their family- No one in the world would ever be able to help you stand up against them.

But today was different from those dark days where you couldn't rely on anyone, it was comforting even if a bit reckless to see Sean protect you the way he did.

Younger Adrien would have made your new boyfriend's life a living hell, he would've made sure he knew his place in the school's hierarchy… But that doesn't work anymore. He could say he would tell his mom to use her money against this guy… But that doesn't work anymore.

He watched as you held hands with the man that had stolen you away from him, unable to stop him.

Adrien watched as your partner promised no one would bully you anymore and that you were safe with him…

"... Bastard… I could have said the same thing if you would've let me finish.." Adrien stood there, mumbling nonsense that you wouldn't be able to hear anyway, saying things he knows are not true.

For now, you were happy walking away with someone who actually showed how much he cared from start to finish.

→ Alexandra Coldwell:

It's been such a long, long time since Alexandra last saw you, last heard of you- In general she might as well have thought you were dead! And for the longest time, she really thought that!

So tell me, how do you think she felt seeing you in the arms of some nobody?

Oh, this is a dream, right? She is hallucinating again, silly her, her sleep schedule has been completely changed since the day you left- Now her eyes are wide open to everything and everyone all the time! She always swears she can see you in the corner of her vision. Always there to make fun of her….

Oh wait! You're real! Right?? This is real, right? She has woken up a few hours ago, she is sure of that-

"[Y/n]??- I-it's been a long time- H-How are you?" Alex falters as she makes her way closer to you, trying to stay focused on the more urgent matter that is talking with you for once.

Ah… but when you turn around, your happy face goes back to one she recognized oh so well, of horror.

"So it IS you!! You are you! Of course you are! H-How have you been?!" The excitement in her voice is palpable, even in her current state, she still strikes you as an extrovert with a very talkative personality.

Ah… Her state, however… It's deteriorating. You knew who she was by her voice alone, it would be impossible to forget it after having it drilled into your brain with all that resentment and fear you harbored. But to see her in this nervous, trembling state is making you feel concerned for her… What happened while you were gone?

That didn't matter now, however, you couldn't simply turn a blind eye to all of what she did, and all that healing you've done shouldn't be so easy to break just because she recognized you in public.

You considered your options, you could curse her off, talk to her indifferently and politely… Or simply walk away.

You weren't actually obligated to talk to her at all… so… why not just run away? You took your partner's hand and pretended as if Alexandra mixed you up with someone else.

"Hm..??! Wait- Where are you going?! I-I really need to talk with you!" She begged you to hear her, her meek voice contradicting the desperate hand in your arm. Her nails are still sharp as ever clawing at your skin, even if not intentionally this time.

You felt this sensation before, yet you wish you didn't. You wish you weren't as terrified as you were but as long as the situation keeps on escalating you can't help but feel more and more like you were still in highschool being helpless and scared of turning your head to face her. Like a cursed time machine, you're brought back to feeling worried of what will happen if you tell her to stop, to leave you alone! You remember how no one used to believe you when you mentioned being bullied, how no one dared to say anything because "oh well, is just the Coldwell!" As if that alone gave her rights to treat you the way she did-

But this time you weren't completely alone, your partner took her hand away from your arm- A stern look in his eyes as he lightly pushed Alexandra away.

"I don't know what you want but I'm pretty sure I know who you are, and they don't want to talk with you. Leave us alone." It wasn't a threat, it wasn't insulting nor intimidating and yet it set the message very clearly: He wasn't letting Alex enter back into your life if you didn't want to.

"[Y/n]... Who is this?? Who is this- Person?! Unhand me!" Alex pushed your partner away, it wasn't clear if she was mad about his presence in general or because he was holding her wrist.

"[Y/n], please! It feels like a nightmare whenever you ignore me!-" She was beginning to cry as she whined your name, your partner standing in-between her and you didn't stop her from trying to reach you.

But today was different from those dark days where you couldn't rely on anyone, it was comforting even if a bit reckless to see Sean protect you the way he did.

Younger Alexandra would have made your new boyfriend's life a living hell, she would've made sure he knew his place in the school's hierarchy… But that doesn't work anymore. She could say she would tell her dad to use his money against this guy… But that doesn't work anymore.

She watched as you held hands with the man that had stolen you away from her, unable to stop him.

Alexandra watched as your partner promised no one would bully you anymore and that you were safe with him…

" I… I wanted to say that.. I-I would've said that ages ago if you had stayed just a little longer…" Alex stood there, mumbling nonsense that you wouldn't be able to hear anyway, saying things she knows are not true.

For now, you were happy walking away with someone who actually showed how much he cared from start to finish.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #choco stuff #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere bully #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #yandere bully x reader #yandere x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

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thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

Leather Bound

TW: public sex. Dom!Rafe. Degrading language. Smut.

SUMMARY: sex on Rafe's motorcycle.

WORD COUNT: 1400

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

omg i just watched obx s3 and i'm feral for buzzcut rafe 😭😭 imagine him bending you over his motorcycle and fucking you until you can't walk- pls write a fanfic for this i'll love you forever

Leather Bound

The thrill of the wind of your hair paled in comparison to the feeling of his arms pulling you tighter around him. Your dress much like the smoke of his exhaust as it was forgotten in the wind behind you until he furthered the distance between you and the pogues. None of them could ever understand why it was you always found yourself in his arms. His reputation and vices alone were enough to make any respectable girl of your standing smart enough to turn away. But they didn't know how powerful it was to bring a man like Rafe to his knees.

Only tonight, the rush was evident for reasons all their own. Topper got too handsy at Midsummers, promoting him to deliver a pinch square in the nose. He offered his hand as some hero and you accepted, bloody knuckles and all. After Kiara called you a traitor and Sarah upturned her nose after how this secret relationship was a betrayal to your closest friend, you were swept behind his bike.

"Here..." He groaned after climbing off of the bike, pulling his helmet, and you in quick succession.

"Careful for the pipes, baby. Skirt up. Panties off..." This was what made their disapproval worth it. Dirty words and the promises that followed that were anything but empty.

"Oh my God...my little slut always so ready for me..." You felt the heat from his pipes at your thighs as you obeyed, your shins ghosting with the danger, all forgotten when his foot kicked your ankles apart and his fingers spread you wider for him.

"If only they could see you right now. So fucking desperate, aren't you? Bet you wanted my fingers in here all night..." You nodded, turning back with your bottom lip between your teeth.

"But you went there with Topper..."

"You didn't want anyone to know..."

"But they do now, don't they baby? And even if you went with him…you’re gonna come for me…yeah?"

"Yes..." You moaned as the tip of his middle finger slipped inside of you. Torturing you down to the tease to the bend as you gripped anything you could in sight.

"All those times I couldn't leave any marks...I'll make up for it now..." He began at your ass. "Count."

"One-" you gasped following the first strike.

"Keep counting baby...stay with me..."

"T-two..." You groaned as you moved against the leather of the seat, a small amount of friction adding to the sensation.

"Good girl...keep going..."

You continued until you had both of his fingers buried inside of you and an ass as sore as your knuckles for digging into the safe metal of the bike.

"Toes. Now." You bent forward, his breath on you from behind. His tongue began slowly.

"Pussy worth dying for..." He grinned in the recollection of JJ saying he'd kill him. "Mmm..." He moaned, the vibrations already making you tremble.

"They think they can make you come like I can...but we both know that's not true..." He sucked on your lower lip, teasing, before his fingers gripped your ass further apart.

"So they know I've had you every way? Even in their little chateau? On all fours where they eat ramen and talk about stealing my gold?" He slapped your ass again. The idea making you feel guilty, quickly remedies by the way he made you drip down your legs.

"Or on that cheap little boat with my cock making you cry? Isn't my yacht so much better?" He asked, smirking as if it was a euphemism for something else. In truth, everything was better with Rafe, but not for the reasons that seemed so obvious. He pushed your body and your boundaries while also respecting a line so many decided for you. He made you come beneath their noses but allowed you to live your own life. It was unexpected given his reputation. But with everyone else deciding what they wanted from you, there was freedom in his possession.

"Oh, you don't get to come yet..." He withdrew, wiping his chin and turning you to face him.

"You still have to earn my forgiveness for letting Topper see you in this dress. Making him think for even a second he got to see you out of it..."

"I was never going to let him..."

"No? Prove it...show me how sorry you are..." He motioned to his belt as you were quick to oblige. A rough terrain was ignored as you moved to your knees. His belt and pants undone in record time.

"Eyes to me baby...let me see you mean it and aren't just enjoying it with your whore mouth." Your thighs clenched at the degradation as you took him over your tongue.

"Fuck..." He groaned as you took him in stride. A tongue over the vein beneath that wrapped along his impressive length. Hollow cheeks and fluttering eyes corrected by a pull of your hair.

"You're so fucking gorgeous when you cry for me..." He brushed his thumb at your cheek. "You like crying for my cock, pogue? Hmmm?"

"Yes..." You explained with a muffled mouth as he bent over the bike.

"Stand up. I need to be inside of you right fucking now." Before you could really stand, you were bent back over the bike and his cock making you utter a silent scream.

"Don't think this means I forgive you...but damn...I might just forget for a minute..." He smirked at your neck.

"Give it to me baby...I know you're tired...but we're celebrating aren't we?" He smirked, a hand to your ass making you groan.

"Jesus Christ...you look so good taking me...come here..." He pulled you upwards by your hair, ripping the strap of your dress loose until your breast was exposed. "Let me play with it-"

"Ahhh...." You moaned in approval.

"Good little slut knows the noises I like..." He pinched your nipples. "But she forgets I like her to beg-"

"Please please please...Rafe please..." He grinned at your shoulder, forcing both breasts to the night air.

"Play with them...let me hear all those little whimpers you make without me before I make you scream and remind you you'll never have to come alone again." Your eyes shut right as he quickened behind you. Your leg pulled over the rear seat that was more.if a support than an actual passenger rear.

"Goddammit!" He cursed. "So tight baby..."

"Yes! Rafe!" You moaned, his hands greedy and painful. Each breast taken harshly before you were set flat over the bike, clit rubbing into the leather.

"That's right baby...let them hear you all the way back..." He slapped your ass.

"Do I need to stop so you can focus?"

"No!. Please don't stop baby! I'm so close!

"You think I don't know? Oooh...you want it, don't you, you little slut?"

"Please!" You whimpered as his touch was unforgivable, bruising expected where he held you.

"Look at me..." He turned you to face him as the bike rocked beneath you.

"You're mine. And I want you to come all of this bike and we're gonna do a little victory lap where your cum is till dripping off the leather..." This was all it took to collapse over that edge. Your body trembling as he took you harder. His own release now pooling and washing down your legs as he withdrew.

"Come here..." He pulled you in the driver's seat, sitting behind you.

"Spread..." His fingers were back at your sex.

"I said I wanted you to drip..." His fingers were quick and cruel, used for the purpose alike before he softened as you created a second edge.

When your body returned to you enough to have some semblance of control, he pulled you to him in the sweetest of kisses. The final reason you would never apologize for your feelings for him was this. He was equal parts dominant and caregiver. Always knowing when not to go too far with you, but teaching you everything about your body you had yet to know.

And he was just getting started.

"Now how about that victory lap, my dirty little pogue?"

TAGLIST:

@rafesmoon @maybankslover @puzziepoppin @gillybear17 @onclouds999

@penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf

@belcalis9503

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

3RD RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks #outerbanks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outerbanks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #outer banks smut #outerbanks smut #obx smut #drew starkey

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beefrobeefcal · 10 months

Text

Chubby!Frankie fic

Is it a one shot? Sure... for now. Nope. Totally not. send in your thoughts, ask box is always open!

The Catfish & The Mouse: Part 1

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Summary: You meet Frankie and he begins to full-fill his destiny. AKA How chubby!Frankie came to be!

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI)

Word Count: 8,149 damn, I over shot that one

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, oral (f receiving), p in the v - unwrapped (don't be silly, cover you willy, kids!), talk of eating, belly praise, self esteem, weight gain

Author's Notes: This is my first fic ever; always appreciate constructive critism, but pls be gentle. Thank you to the baddie who anonymously requested a foodie Frankie fics to different fic writers on here and inspired me to put the fingers to keys to create my own debauchery. And an even bigger thank you to @harryleatherfit - this one's for you, friendo!

_______________________________________________

You first met Frankie three and half years ago at a barbeque your cousins Will and Benny hosted. Both cousins had wanted to introduce you to their army friends, and Frankie was first.

“Fish, this is our cousin, Mouse.” Benny announced, slapping a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to turn around and face Frankie. You internally cringed at Benny using your childhood nickname.

Francisco “Catfish” Morales, or Frankie as you came to love him, was handsome, but also looked a little like an abandoned puppy who needed a good home and hot meal, with his big brown eyes and sharp features. From his broad shoulders, his frame was slight. He looked a little less secure about himself than some of the other guys in attendance, but this charmed you right away.

Then you were introduced to Santiago “Pope” Garcia. Santi had the handsome-and-he-knew-it personality down pat with his intense dark eyes roving up and down your body as he shook your hand, causing an intense heat to wash up and bloom as a blush over your cheeks. Had Frankie not been there and had you not met him first, Santi was convinced you might have fallen right into bed with him that night.

Instead, Frankie’s sweet demeanor and gentle brown eyes only wavering once, down to your lips while you chatted with him, had you seeing him and only him for the rest of the evening. Your chemistry was electric and by the end of the night, he’d asked you out to dinner, setting the date for the following weekend.

It was during your first date that Frankie’s ferocious appetite piqued your interest. He’d taken you to a mid-range family restaurant with a buffet, and he’d eaten close to two full plates of food by the time you’d only managed one without any encouragement or words from you about it. You spoke about your jobs – he a heavy duty mechanic and you an administrator at an accounting office – and histories, and eventually the topic of his military past came up. He’d only recently come home, discharged from the military. You had already deduced that being in said military, food insecurity through rations and high-intensity work outs had left him feeling famished, leading to his current slight state, and based on his lack of reluctance to not eat as much as he did, you took that he may not be aware of that yet.

“I’ve done a couple tours, some with your cousins, and it’s not something I would wish on anyone.” He said quietly, looking down at his fork while pushed some scraps on his plate around.

You knew how tough military service was from hearing Benny talk about it. Will was less open with you, trying to shield you from the horrors he had seen, but would begin to open up when he was drinking.

You reached your hand out and placed it on Frankie’s holding the fork, stopping his movements, and your gaze met his. You smiled warmly and nodded, no words needed to convey that you understood, and it wasn’t going to deter you from pursuing this between you. A broad grin broke out on Frankie’s face, and he broke the eye contact, dropped the fork, got up from his side of the booth and crawled in next to you. Now sitting next to you, he leaned in, cupping your face.

“Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong…” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed you. Eyes closed, you leaned into him in kind, reaching up your hands, one to his shoulder and the other on side, feeling his slight tummy from the dinner he ate.

You deepened the kiss, opening your mouth slightly, and Frankie took it as an invitation to push further. You let a small whimper out, and his hold on you tightened.

Before the kiss could escalate further, you both heard someone clear their throat. Breaking apart and looking up, you were greeted with a scowling, middle aged waitress bearing the name tag “Martha”.

“You two need the bill?” she asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes, contrasting the frown on her mouth.

After an awkward exchange with Martha and paying the bill, Frankie held your hand as you walked through the parking lot to his truck. Once there, he went to unlock the passenger side door for you. Before he could turn the key in the door, you stepped in between him and truck, wrapping your arms around his neck. Gently pulling his face to yours, you murmured, “You’re not reading anything wrong.” before pulling him back into a kiss.

Frankie dropped his keys and wrapped his arms around you, no longer just a kiss, you reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair and the other hand clawed at the back of his shoulder as you made out. His hands traveled around your back, and one reached down, grabbed a handful of your ass, and pulled your leg up onto his hip, pushing you into his truck. From the angle he held you at and the way his hips had thrust you up against the vehicle door, you could feel his hardening cock press up against your lower stomach, and you sighed into his mouth.

That night, after prying yourselves off each other and making your way in the truck to your house, you invited him in, and he made you come on his mouth no less than 3 times before he fucked you.

You were not letting him go.

*****

After a few months of dating, your lease came up on your apartment and Frankie asked you to move in with him; you excitedly agreed. Benny was instantly supportive of your solidifying relationship, saying, “Fish finally caught a good one!” while Will took a little longer to warm up to the idea. Santiago was happy for his friend, albeit a little disappointed and jealous that you went for Frankie and not him.

Living together allowed you to create a home and you carved out your roles together. He handled the maintenance and outdoor upkeep, you both shared the household chores, and you handled the laundry and the cooking. You had learned how to cook from a family friend with a large family, and thus you only knew how to cook for a crowd. At first, there were always leftovers after each meal, but slowly, there seemed to be less and less of that happening. You noticed Frankie having larger servings, seconds or both. After a large dinner, he would haul himself to the couch and lay back, hand on his stuffed tummy, and say how he may have overdone it but, “damn, that was good.” You took it as a compliment and carried on.

You, on the other hand, started to use the gym membership offered by your job, taking advantage of the different classes, getting up early to go work out so your evenings with Frankie weren’t interrupted. Over time, both of your hard work started to show; you were in the best shape of your life and Frankie was filling out his frame. Frankie loved your lithe body, and you loved his fuller one.

Your sex life with Frankie was – in a word – amazing. He could be gentle during Sunday morning sex, rutting into you, murmuring sweet words of praise into your ears, bringing you to a beautiful, soulful orgasm while staring into each other’s eyes. He could also use his entire body’s weight to pin you to what ever surface he was fucking you on, using his strong arms to hold you in place and his military trained voice to bark orders and causing you to almost black out from coming so hard.

Then there were the evenings after he would eat a large dinner; like the last time you made lasagna – Frankie’s favourite. After he ate all he could handle, he cradled his poor, bloated tummy as he gently laid back on the recliner, popping the foot rest out with a grunt.

“Oof, Mouse, baby. That was amazing. Gets better every time!” he said, trying to tug his now too-tight t-shirt back over his engorged belly.

“I’m glad you liked it.” You said with a smile as you leaned down and kissed him.

You stood up, and as you turned to walk away, Frankie reached out and touched your leg to get your attention.

“Have I told you how much I love you today?” He gave you the biggest, saddest puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

You laughed and rolled you eyes, then said while attempting to leave the room, “Yeah, yeah… I’ll get dessert.”

His hold on your pant leg did not let go. You turned and looked back at him. His wanton gaze roaming up and down your body.

“Oh no, baby… nuh uh… dessert is right here.” He said lowly, and tugged you back towards him, running a hand up to between your thighs and cupping your heat.

“Yeah… you take good care of me, baby…” he croons as he rubs your damp centre through your leggings while a quiet moan escaped out through your barely open mouth. “Tell me how I can take care of you.”

He was offering for you to take the lead; this was the dance you both would move through on evenings when he overindulged on your cooking. Standing over him with his hand between your legs, you run your fingers over his taut belly, lifting his tight shirt up and push down gently feeling his fullness, eliciting a grunt from his mouth and stopping his hand’s movement.

“You look like you’ve already had your fill for the night.” You coo, leaning down and rubbing a little firmer over his tummy. “Ready to pop.”

You push in a little harder with the final ‘P’ sound come from the word pop, and Frankie whimpers. You know it’s not from pain or discomfort because of the tenting that had grown in his sweatpants. You ran your hand to his waistband and pulled down, his hard cock popped out and hit up against his belly, tip angry and red, weeping precum.

Frankie shivered as you grabbed his aching member and ran your thumb over the slit. “… fuck… I’m… I wan-want to take care of you… baby… please… fuck.” He begged, each pant causing his belly to move up and down.

You stood back to your full height and removed your shirt and bra, then reached down to remove your leggings and underwear, stepping out of them and standing in front of Frankie naked, while he watched, mouth agape.

“I know, Frankie… shhhhh, I know. And you will. Can I ride you? You gonna let me do that?” you cooed again as you threw your leg over him and began to straddle his thighs. His eyebrows furrowed.

“Please baby… let’s me eat your pussy… want to eat y-your pussy… need to…. Fuck, please… ” he pleaded, as you palmed his tummy and grinded down on his thigh.

“Don’t think you could handle another meal in here.”, you interrupted him as you pushed down gently on his very full belly, right in the middle, not to elicit pain but to emphasize how full he really was. Frankie keened, eyes pleading for whatever it was you were wiling to give him. You eyes broke contact with his, and looked down where you were pressing into his middle, smiling devilishly.

Frankie shivered again and mewled, “A whole tray of your fucking delicious lasagna.”

He grabbed your waist as you moved forward on his lap. You brought your slick cunt over this throbbing cock, aligned your entrance to him, and gently sunk down, both moaning.

He held you in place, not allowing movement just yet, and said in an almost whimper, “Not too rough, baby. I-I’m pretty full.”

You smiled at him, and as you pushed to move your hips against his firm hold, you mock-whimpered to him, “You can’t handle me, big boy?”

Frankie’s eyes rolled back with a groan loudly escaping his mouth; any restraint he was trying to exercise to console his over-stuffed belly broke, and he planted his heels into the couch, thrusting up into you repeatedly. His hold on your hips was harsh, you knew it would leave bruises for you to discover tomorrow, and he alleviated any responsibility to your own movement on his cock.

Every downward movement you made had his belly crashing into your mound, sending shocks throughout your body, bringing you closer to your peak.

“Frankie! …oh fuck… baby…. Keep going….” You cried out with your head thrown back.

“You close? Yeah? …. I can feel it…. Baby… let go… baby – fuck – let go… come for me-m’you look for pretty when you come…” he called back to you in equal desperation.

A few more thrusts caused your orgasm to crash over you, sending waved throughout your body. Frankie soon followed with panting and groaning, and you collapsed on to him.

“Careful… careful… full… so full… “, he panted, smiling, one hand leaving your hip to place on the back of your neck, soothing you to quiet your movements over his aching, yet satisfied, middle.

This was not the first or last time this happened. These kinds of intimate moments remained unspoken between you. You had discussed sex, even kinks, before, but this was topic that hadn’t been discussed before or after each encounter. Although he figured you liked feeding him based on the look of awe you gave him when he ate more than his fair share of the food you prepared, purposely not allowing leftovers if he could manage. He liked to tease you by pretending he couldn’t eat another thing, then continue to finish what was ever left on the table while you praised him for being a “good boy”. He especially enjoyed when he caught you watching him while he would lay in the couch and his shirt would ride up his swollen stomach involuntarily when he really over did it, dramatically rubbing his belly. Anyone of those actions generally led to you needing him like you were in heat. He enjoyed eating to his heart’s content and was encouraged by the response he got from you; he was all too willing to go down this route, never feeling like you were making do anything he didn’t want.

He didn’t over do it or push himself every day, but it was beginning to happen more often, and he could see the effect him letting his inhibitions go had, feeling his clothing fitting different, especially around his midsection. He didn’t care, except for the nagging thoughts about what you thought of being with a big guy, one that he hadn’t been when you first started dating.

The guys at the mechanic shop teased him in good humor when he had to size up his coveralls, all making comments about how lucky he was to have a lady who cooked that well for him at home. He smiled and knew he was lucky, but still wondered if you felt the same about him.

*****

It was about 6 months later, you were at one of Benny’s fights, along with Frankie and Will.

“I’m going to get something to drink, and maybe eat. Want anything?” Frankie asked, pointing between you and Will. You both shook your heads, and Frankie nodded and smiled at Will for his approval of his next movement, then leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on the top of your head before heading to the concession.

Will watched him walk away chuckling, then turned back to you. He knew both you and Frankie were still nervous about being an item in front of him, but he thought it was sweet.

“So… everything is going well with you, Mouse?” Will asked as he turned to you.

“Yeah,” you said with an equally bright smile. “It’s good… great! He’s … we’re great!” you smiled, looking down at your hands. “Work is good and Frankie is great.”

Will smiles, softer this time, and puts his arm around your shoulder. “Glad to hear it. You look happy… happier than I’ve seen you in a while.”

Will was like an older brother to you, the one you wish you had. Being an only child of a single mother, he offered additional stability when you needed it, whether you wanted it or not. He was your babysitter growing up and kept tabs on you during high school onward. Benny, on the other hand, fit the goofy brother mold to a T; you were the same age and we’re raised together. If Will was getting you out of trouble, it was usually because Benny got you into it.

“Yeah, I’m really happy. You know, I have a good routine down; work, gym, Frankie. It’s good!”

Will gives you a soft smile and nods. You both look back towards the ring, but you get the feeling that he has more to say. You knew Frankie’s bulkier frame was not lost on your cousin, but that didn’t seem to the button he wanted to push. After a pause, he cleared his throat.

“But, uh, Fish is treating you good?” he said, voice quiet, and his eyes not moving from the boxing ring.

You turned your head and looked at Will’s profile. “Yes, he’s treating me really well.” You paused a beat and put your hand on Will’s shoulder to get him to turn to you. “I’m really good. He’s … I love him, Will.”

Will turned to look at you, eyes scanning your face, then nodded and smiled. His eyes caught something behind you and you turned to see Frankie coming back, carrying a beer and two hot dogs – one he was already halfway through.

Will smiled as he saw his friend approach and said while chuckling quietly to you, “He looks really happy, too.”

*****

Santiago was back in town for the first time in a while, and the guys wanted to go out to their favourite bar. Both you and Hannah, Will’s wife, were invited along, as it had been over six months since you’d seen each other. Frankie had taken a shower and was now standing in the bathroom, jeans on but not done up and slung low on his waist with his stomach pushing over the waistband of his boxers, brushing his teeth.

You stood, leaning against the doorway, and watched him. His mechanic job kept his body strong; his shoulders were broad and lead into his strong, thick arms and large, beefy chest. He was still muscular, but it was all now covered in a layer of softness. His thick, meaty thighs carried what bore the brunt of his new eating habits; his waist had filled out, producing love handles, and then his stomach. It was no longer flat and toned; it was a good sized belly – round and soft with a firmness underneath. But through his changes, he had never lost his strength, and it was still easy for him to pick you up like you weighed next to nothing.

“Well, hello there.” Frankie crooned at you with a sly smile. “And what are we looking at, lovely lady?”

A blush rose on your cheeks, and you smiled back. Sauntering over, you stood behind him, wrapping your arms around on top of his belly. “Just my sweet, sexy Frankie.” You planted a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he leaned back, his hand on yours.

A little while later, you and Frankie got out of the truck and walked hand-in-hand into the bar. Frankie scanned the tables and saw Will with Hannah, waving. Waving back, he pulled you by the hand towards them.

“Fish! How you doing, buddy?” Will asked while standing up, coming over to give a hug. You noticed that he looked Frankie up and down quickly, trying to take in his friend’s now larger figure.

Wait until he takes off his coat. You thought to yourself, knowing the tight grey t-shirt underneath would really highlight all the newly added Frankie there was.

Hellos and how-are-yous exchanged while you take your seats. Benny arrives and has a similar response to Frankie as Will, but neither saying anything. The conversation between the five of you flows naturally, and Frankie has his arm around the back of your chair.

Santi hasn’t arrived yet, and you’re somewhat relieved. You like Santiago enough, and he’s Frankie’s best friend, but he’s not the kindest or gentlest person. You we’re told by Benny that he had taken it a bit hard when you started to date Frankie, but hadn’t heard anything further about it. Frankie, on the other hand, got the ribbing and teasing from Santi, and although he said he was fine with it, you knew Frankie could be sensitive.

The guys started to catch up and you offered to get you and Frankie a drink.

“Just a beer, baby. Whatever is on tap.” He said, then turned back to Benny to hear his outrageous, and probably over embellished, story about grocery shopping.

You nodded and headed towards the bar. You waved down the bartender and placed your order. While waiting for your drinks, a familiar voice says your name. You turned and saw Santi.

“Hey!” and you smile as he pulled you into a hug.

He pulled back from you smiling, with his hands on your waist, “Wow… you look… insanely good!”

His eyes roaming up and down your figure. “You hitting the gym?”

You laugh and roll your eyes, still not used to compliments about your fitter form, and feeling more so that it was coming from him. “Yeah, yes… my job comes with a gym membership and I’m finally putting it to use.”

Santi nods. “Need a workout buddy? A spotter? I’ll be in town for a while and need something to do.” He said as he leaned his face closer to yours while making intense eye contact.

You try to not let your smile falter and you pulled back; Santi is smooth, but not that smooth. You’ve caught on to what he’s doing.

“I, uh, have a personal trainer.” You lied.

“And it’s a women’s only gym.” You lied again, nodding like you’re trying to not only convince him but yourself, too, so it seems credible.

Santi’s smile simmered down a bit and he pulled you back in for a tighter, more intimate feeling hug, lingering just a bit too long with his arms around your waist. You swore you heard him take in a deep breathe and smell your hair, but you couldn’t be sure.

“I missed you, Mouse.” He says in a hushed tone.

You broke the hug abruptly when the bartender called out that your drinks were ready and stated what the total you owed was. Santi tried to keep a hand on your waist and went to pay, but you were quicker and moved away, handing the bartender cash and telling him to keep the change. You hurriedly grabbed your and Frankie’s glasses and turned to Santi.

“Everyone else is here. Over there.” You motioned with one of the glasses to the other side of the room.

Santi followed you to the table and greeted everyone, and then gave Frankie a once-over.

“Fish! Man oh man! Are you enjoying the tethered life or what!” he exclaims, pulling Frankie into a hug and patting him on the back firmly.

“Yeah, yeah, Pope.” Frankie says with a headshake and a smile.

The conversation flowed again, and you started to relax into your chair. Frankie’s arm went from the back of your chair to around your shoulders, fingers drawing shapes on your arm, as he continued to chat with Santi.

After a bit, Benny wanted to get another round for everyone, and Frankie offered to help. As the two walked back to the bar, Will came and took Frankie’s seat.

Leaning in, he asks quietly, “How’s it going? Everything good?”

You look at him with confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good. Why? Does it not look it?”

“Well,” Will paused then chuckled to himself, “Frankie looks like he’s really enjoying living with you. What are your feeding him?” he asked, laughing.

“Hmmm?” you responded, turning your head to Will, with a questioning look.

He laughed again. “Frankie. What are you feeding him?” he pauses, “I’ve known Fish for a long time, and I have never seen him this…” he gestures his hands like he’s trying to find a nice way to put something. “…well-fed.”

You shrugged and feigned innocence with a head shake. “He really likes my cooking. What can I say? Just let him be happy.”

Will’s hands went up in surrender, smile growing. “No, no, no… I mean, I’m glad he’s comfortable, and being taken care of… and happy. And that you’re happy, too.”

You gave him a stern look, leaned in, and hissed, “Don’t you dare say a thing to him about this.”

Will let out a hearty laugh, waving you off. “I won’t, Mouse. I won’t.”

Benny and Frankie came back to the table and, once the drinks were handed out, Frankie took his jacket off, hanging it over the back of his chair. His shirt pulled tight on his arms and shoulders, and emphasized his protruding belly.

“Whoa, Fish!” Santi, exclaimed with raised eyebrows and eyes scanning down his ample torso. He then reached out and poked Frankie’s belly with two of his fingers roughly. “You enjoying civie life that much?”

Frankie forced a fake laugh, shaking his head as he pushed Santi’s hand away. He looked up and stared right back at him, and snarled with a not-so-friendly grin, “With this girl by my side? Absolutely.”

He sat back down and put his arm around you again, although it was a little more of a firmer hold this time. You looked up at Frankie and then to Santi, giving him an awkward smile and shrugged.

Santi’s mouth was in a tight line, and he nodded, staring back at Frankie then sneered, “Mouse says she’s hitting the gym.” He looks at you, his eyes exaggeratingly moved from your chest back up to your face with a feral grin, then back to Frankie and spat, “Clearly, you’re just making it to the kitchen.”

Before any further nastiness erupted, Will leaned over the table, hands up with a palm facing each man. “Alright. Enough. Knock it off, both of you. Let’s just enjoy tonight you guys.”

Frankie’s smile was gone, replaced completely with a challenging scowl directed at Santi across the table and his hold on you tightened. You looked up at him again, and his gaze softened. He then nodded at Will then dropped his eyes to the beer in his hand.

Santi continued to stare at Frankie, watching him in the same way, then to you with a smirk. He obviously wasn’t expecting you to return his gaze with a furious glare. What you could only describe as regret washed over his face before he looked at Will and nodded.

The conversation began slowly again, awkward at first, then picked up. Benny had more to say about his upcoming boxing opponent, Santi shared stories from his travels, Will talked about his and Hannah’s vacation plans, and Frankie talked about the interesting people he encountered at the mechanic shop he worked at. You chimed in occasionally to share an anecdote here and there, too.

After a while, Benny said he was hungry, and wanted to go to a real place with real food. After deciphering that he meant a restaurant, you all, but Frankie, started throwing out ideas of where you could go. Frankie’s lack on contribution to this topic was not lost on you, and you watched as he kept his head down, fingers playing with the residual condensation on his glass. It was Santi’s voice that made you wince.

“Come on, Big Fish.”, curling his lip as he sneered. “You must know a good place to eat. I’m sure you’ve had your fill from every restaurant in town, buddy.”

You stared at Santi, completely gobsmacked and horrified by not just his words, but his nasty tone. And you were not alone. Benny’s mouth hung open with his brows furrowed in disgust, Hannah just closed her eyes and shook her head, and Will stared at him with a terrifying intensity.

Before you could answer, Frankie, shifted in his seat and cleared his throat.

“Nah, I think this is it for me tonight.”, he said quietly, trying to force a smile, while not making eye contact with anyone in particular. “You guys enjoy. I’ve, uh, I’ve got an early morning, and need to head home.”

You knew that was a lie. He’d purposely taken tomorrow off in case tonight went on into the early morning hours, but it was barely 7:30 pm.

You were enraged. You wanted to lunge across the table and throttle Santi. But before you could do anything, Frankie turned to you as he got up and said with the same quiet tone and sad eyes, “You go with them, get some food. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up.”

That look and those words broke your heart.

You shook your head and got your purse and jacket. You said your goodbyes to the group, except for Santi, purposely avoiding him. Santi only looked up at you once, but when to refused to meet his eyes, he sat back and lowered his head. Benny hugged you goodbye, giving an extra squeeze before letting you go. He then hugged Frankie next, saying quietly - but you managed to hear him- “Ignore Pope. He’s just jealous. She picked you, Fish.”

Frankie pulled back and nodded unconvincingly, and Benny patted him on the shoulder and Hannah pulled you both in for a hug.

Will waved both you and Frankie off with his anger at Santi barely being contained, not moving from his seat until he deemed that you both were out of earshot. Before you walked out the door, you took one last look at the table and watched as Will stood over Santi, berating him. You couldn’t hear what was being said but knowing Will and seeing Santi just sit with his head hung low, you knew he felt like every word like a dagger.

The ride home was quiet. Any topic you tried to bring up, Frankie either responded with in one-word answers or not at all. As soon as the truck was parked, you undid your seat belt and shuffled across the bench seat towards Frankie.

“Honey? Frankie? Talk to me, baby.” You said reaching up and cupping his cheek.

He turned his head, but his eyes stayed low. He sighed and shook your hand off his cheek, then got out of the truck. You felt crushed.

You followed him up to the front door, then into your home. You both removed your coats, hanging them up. As he was kicking off his shoes, you pushed yourself in front of him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Frankie, please. Talk to me.” You said into his chest.

He sighed again. You could feel his body tense up under your hold and his hands came up to your shoulders. It felt like he was going to push you away, but instead, he moved his hands around your shoulders and buried his face into your hair.

“I love you, you know.” You said to finally break the silence.

“I love you, too.” He responded in a sad sigh.

“And you know I love everything about you.” You pulled back, hands on the side of his waist, staring up into his eyes. “Everything.”

Frankie hesitated. He looked away from you and stated, “I saw Santi and you at the bar. I saw him hug you - his hands on you.”

He looked back up to your face, eyes wide with worry. You ran a hand up through his hair, resting it on his cheek.

“What did you talk about?” he asks, quietly, shifting away from eye contact.

“He asked me if I needed a workout buddy…”

Before you could end you sentence, you could see the hurt that crept up into his eyes. “…but I lied. I told him I had a personal trainer. And that it’s a women’s only gym.”

The hurt, while not completely gone, was now mixed with you recognized as amusement and pride as he knew for a fact those statements were both lies.

“Santi’s an ass.” You state bluntly, cocking your head and softly looking up at him.

“A skinny ass.” Frankie retorted; his brows furrowed again.

There it was. It wasn’t that Santi having interest in you that upset him or how he may have been jealous of you being with Frankie - it was the nagging worry of you wanting to pursue a leaner body than he now offered.

Scratching your fingers gently through his beard, you look up at him through your eyelashes, and coo, “Good thing I don’t have a thing for skinny guys anymore.”

Your hands moved down to his waist then under his shirt, gently caressing his middle. You feel the goose bumps on his skin and see his eyes flicker.

“Good thing I want a big boy who likes to eat and can pin me to the mattress when he fucks me.” You said softly as your hands moved further down so you could hold his belly and lift gently, feeling it’s weight.

Frankie’s breath hitched in his throat and he swallowed harshly. His now darkened eyes dart to your lips then back up to your eyes, his confidence growing hearing your confirmation out loud.

Normally, when anything to do with Frankie’s expanding waistline came into play, you held the control - seizing it – and he was more than happy to oblige, not being fully sure what you were getting out of it. But hearing you confirm that you wanted this - him in his newer, fuller state - and seeing the arousal screaming in your eyes, it was his turn to dominate.

“Yeah?” Frankie asks in a breathy voice, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lips before he begins to gently push you backwards towards the back of the closed front door.

“That why you feed me good? Huh, baby?” his voice almost in mocking tone when he asks you. “Stuff me and keep me happy?”

Your back hit the door and Frankie pushed his belly up against you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. “I’m asking you a question, baby.” His voice dark and teasing. The unspoken thing was now in the wide open, and there was no putting back into what ever box you both had kept it in. The heat pooling in your lower belly was beginning to become more and more intense, and you could feel your cunt fluttering and clenching on nothing.

“Uh huh.”, you nodded dumbly, your eyes wide and your arousal saturating your underwear and into your leggings.

“Yeah, I bet. That’s why you cook too much food, huh? Keep me big and round?” he asks again, is a voice dripping with taunt and need.

You whimper. Frankie smiles menacingly and puts his hands on either side of your head and cages you in.

“Baby,” he licks his lips and runs his eyes down to your heaving chest, encased tits moving up and down with every strangled breath you take. “I’m hungry. I want to eat.”

He leaned in and ghosted a kiss over your wanting mouth. He pulled back enough so you’re unable to reach him with your lips and he smiles darkly. “I’m starved.”

“Wh-what do you want me to make for you?” you asked breathlessly against his mouth, trembling. Your eyes were heavy lidded with arousal and begging. Between Frankie’s whole domineering demeanor and being pinned between the door and his belly, you were like a rocket, ready to launch the second NASA gave the go ahead.

Frankie chuckled. “I want you to make yourself comfortable on our bed, baby. I’m going to devour that sweet cunt of yours, over and over and over and over….”

He trailed off as he began to nip and suck your neck, turning you into a panting, gasping, moaning mess.

“Fra… Frankie!” you keened as one of his knees jutted up between your legs, pushing into the apex of your thighs.

“Oh Mouse… baby... I can feel how wet and hot you are through your leggings and my jeans.” He cooed mockingly at you, one hand coming up and stroking your cheek. “What’s got you all worked up? Huh?”

You moaned and whimpered as he pushed his knee with more force into your aching apex - any friction at this point sending electricity directly through body from your throbbing cunt.

“Words, baby. Use your words.” He huffed.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out were pathetic whimpers and gasps.

“You gonna come from my knee, baby? Just my knee?” he snarled as his knee pulled back and you whined. “Nuh uh, baby girl. You’re coming on my tongue, on my mouth. I’m ready to eat.”

He grabbed you by the waist and flung you over his shoulder. You squealed as he carried you to your bedroom.

Frankie tossed you on the bed and grabbed the waist of your leggings, pulling them down along with your underwear in one smooth movement.

“Frankie… b-baby… pl-please!” you cried, not really sure what you were asking for.

As soon as he had your bare, glistening cunt in the open, his eyes went dark and feral. He crawled up, laid himself down on his side next to you and forcefully kissed you. One hand snaked down your body and pushed in between your legs, gently moving his middle finger through your slit.

He pulled away from the kiss and nudged you with his nose. “Fuck… you’re so wet for me… you have no idea what you do to me.” He paused to insert a finger into you sopping cunt, thumb circling around your clit. He watched your face with a smile and continued, “So fucking good to me… keeping me happy… keeping me fed… fuck baby… keeping me full…”

He could feel your cunt squeezing his one finger, starting you towards your orgasm, and he then added another, pumping into you with a little more effort. You cried out and gripped the wrist of the hand he had buried in you, while the other pushed up into your headboard.

“Baby… fuck… you look so good falling a part around my fingers… you’re so close… I can feel it.” an evil smile crosses his face. “But I’m hungry, baby…” he hisses as he pulls out his fingers.

Your eyes shot open, and you growled, trying to continue your hold on his wrist. “Don’t you dare fucking stop, Francisco!”

He pulled back and grinned at you, breaking out of your hold, while sitting back on his knees. He sucked his fingers clean and moaned in contentment, “So fucking tasty, baby.”

Before you could use your own hands to get relief from the unsatisfied edge in your heat, he moved between your legs, laying down on his belly and pulled you by your thighs toward his face. Your legs were draped over his broad shoulders as he wrapped his arms under your hips to anchor you to him , then pushed his face into your cunt and licked harshly.

Your eyes went wide, and you shrieked and writhed, shooting both hands down into his curls and yanking. Frankie hummed, holding you in place with his strong arms, and began to fuck you with his tongue while his nose rubbed into your clit. You could feel the tight coil in your lower belly begin to reach a breaking point, and then you saw stars.

You came hard and loud and Frankie moaned into your pussy, lapping up everything you had like he had promised - like he was starving.

You rode out your orgasm on his face, gripping his hair and crying out. As you started to come down, Frankie moved and sucked your clit between his lips harshly, while thrusting a finger in and out your cunt.

You cried out and dug your heals into his shoulders.

“Frankie! I-I can’t! T-too much!” you wailed, as tears began in your eyes and you tried to close your legs.

Frankie wedged his shoulders further between your thighs to hold you open to him. He pulled his mouth off your clit and added another finger to his pounding of your pussy.

If you hadn’t been in a fucked-out state, you would have been unnerved by the gentle, saccharine sweet tone of his voice, crooning, “You can do it, baby girl… shhhhhh… yeah you can.”

Then he dropped his voice low and snarled, “Be a good girl and FEED ME.”

He dove his mouth back onto your swollen clit. Your grip on his hair only egged him on while he pushed another finger in and made you come again.

He didn’t relent. Before this one ended, you could feel another building up but far more intense. You knew the feeling well, being Frankie was the only man who had ever made you come that hard.

“F-FRANKIE-EEEEEE! Oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…” you chanted as you came again, arching your back right off the bed and feeling a gush from your abused pussy right into his waiting mouth.

“Yeah baby! Give it to me! Fuck baby!” Frankie moaned while you squirted and came all over his face and in his mouth, causing a damp spot to widen under you on the bed.

As you came down, he placed gentle kisses and licks on your pussy, nuzzling you with his nose through the aftershocks. He pulled his face back and laid his head on your thigh, looking up at you with adoration.

“Good girl.” “You did so good for me.” “Yeah, baby, you’re such a good girl” he praised while rubbing your hip with the hand that had been holding you down.

You raised your head and looked down at Frankie. He smiled, moustache and beard scruff wet. You smiled back, still trying to catch your breath.

You flopped your head back onto the pillow and closed your eyes as Frankie crawled up your body. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he smiled and chucked.

“Hey.” He said gently, while cupping your cheek.

You gave him a goofy grin, eyes still closed. “Hey.”

You reached up and put your arms around his neck. He kissed you deeply, pulled back and said, “You ready to get fucked into the mattress by a big boy with a big cock?”

Your eyes opened wide and you nodded eagerly. He sat up on his knees and helped you removed your top and bra. He kissed you as you laid bare before him and grabbed one of your bare tits in his hands while worrying your nipple between his thumb and index finger.

You broke the kiss and reached out and started to remove his clothing, not wanting to wait any longer. Frankie stood up to the side of the bed and took off his shirt while you started on his jeans. The waistband of his jeans was straining under his ample belly, enough so that the button keeping his jeans closed was so pulled tight that you couldn’t undo it without his assistance.

Frankie chuckled, his belly moving along with his laugh. “I have to suck in to get them open now. Might need new jeans.” He said, playfully, a blush of embarrassment flushed his cheeks.

Your cheeks flushed back, knowing that his belly was not currently full - not even close - and you wondered how much trouble it would give his jeans if he’d just finished a big meal.

You couldn’t help it and leaned forward to caress and kiss his belly, while he sucked it in and open his jeans, and you marveled at his stomach’s weight and size pushing the zipper down on its own.

You pushed his boxers down with his jeans, his cock popped out pushing against his plush middle, and he kicked them off entirely. You grabbed his cock and began to eagerly pump it. Frankie grunted and bucked his hips with a whine, trying to stop you.

“No… no, baby. If you do that, I’m going to come, and I want to come in that sweet, tight pussy.” He murmured as he grabbed your wrist and pushed you down on your back, crawling over you and holding you in place with his weight.

“Oh Frankie… please… fuck me… please… ” You panted into his ear.

He grunted again, and l leaned up on his elbows, maneuvering one arm between you to line him up with your entrance.

He then braced himself, elbows on either side of your head, and pushed in.

Your mouth opened and your eyes closed. The feeling of him opening you up never got old, each time splitting you into euphoria.

His eyes never left your face, looking for any indication that you wanted or needed him to stop. He bottomed out and you whimpered, pleading with him.

“Baby… pl-please, Frankie!” you moaned. You tried to move your hips to get him to move, but his weight pinning you to the mattress had you stuck.

“Oh fuck you’re tight… just… so tight and warm… fuck, baby….” He panted, enjoying you squirming underneath him.

His hips began to move, slowly, giving him time to acclimate so we wouldn’t blow his load too soon. He continued on this pace, you walls getting slicker as his cock rammed deep.

“Please… Frankie… baby…. Harder… Harder!” you cried, wrapping your legs around his waist to get more leverage.

He picked up the pace, adjusting his position over you to piston you on his cock, harder and faster, bruising into your cervix. You could tell he was getting close with his movements beginning to fall out of rhythm.

“Baby girl…” he panted and began to beg, “Come with me… I’m close. Touch yourself… pl-play with your clit…”

You reached down and circled your middle finger around your tender clit and felt yourself moving fast to your next orgasm.

“I’m close… fuck… Frank-kie… I’m close..” you moaned.

“I know…I know… Look at me when you come. Fucking look at me.” He growled through clenched teeth.

You felt your orgasm begin to wash over you, and you looked up to his face.

“Good girl… fuuu-uck!” he grunted as your pussy clench him, and he began to paint the inside of your pussy.

With one final thrust, Frankie threw his head back and cried out, “fuck!”

He was breathing heavily when he dropped your shaking legs from his hips, while you laid fucked out and panting on your bed.

Evenutally, Frankie pulled out and you let out a whine.

“I know, baby… I know.” He flops over beside you and pulls your back up against his chest, making you the little spoon to his big one, both breathing heavily.

There’s a comfortable quiet as you both lay in the bed you destroyed together.

Frankie breaks the silence with a sigh. “So… you… like me like this?” he asks into your hair.

You smile and nod, eyes still closed. “Yeah. I like, well, I love that you like to eat, and..” you pause then let out a sigh. “…and your belly. And you’re strong and make me feel safe.”

You can feel Frankie breath a laugh, his stomach pushing against you with each breath, and feel the light kisses he’s adorning the back of your head with.

As you said that, you heard a low rumble. You turned your head and Frankie smiled sheepishly at you.

“I’m hungry… like actually hungry.” He laughed. “You make me work up an appetite!”

You rolled over in his arms, facing him, and you grinned like idiots at one another. You placed a hand on the side of his tummy, drawing circles with your fingers. “Poor baby… can’t let you go hungry.”

Frankie giggled and laid his hand on yours, then kissed you and leaned his forehead against yours.

You released yourself from his embrace and got up off the bed with a slight wobble in your legs. You wandered into the bathroom to get yourself cleaned up.

When you came back out, Frankie was standing, having just pulled his boxers back on. You walked towards him and patted his grumbling belly.

“Let’s get you fed, big boy.”

You managed to get a slice from the large frozen pizza you made, while Frankie happily enjoyed the rest. When he finished that and half of a McCain’s frozen deep-dish cake for dessert, he leaned back as his stuffed tummy pushed out against the table, and sighed, rubbing it gently.

“Thank god you like to feed me because I fucking love to eat.” He laughed.

-----

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#frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales fanfiction #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal tummy #chubby frankie rights !!!!!#triple frontier #frankie morales x f!reader

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

Text

In 120 Hours

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work as a temp and are offered a very exclusive interview for a very exclusive job. You see, someone needs a personal assistant for a very eventful week, and you happen to be the perfect fit.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, implied smut, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: here we go, the last part! I know it's too long, don't look at me. Leave me alone! (enjoy reading it pls let me know your thougths!)

Wordcount: 5.6K

part one -part two- part three - part four - part five

You stirred awake as you felt someone try to take something from you. Pulling on something.

It was dark still, and your alarm hadn’t gone off yet, but someone was trying to take something from you, and in your sleepy haze, you whined and clutched your arms closer to your chest as you curled in on yourself more.

“Hey,” someone whispered.

“No,” you whined softly as you frowned, gripping tighter, all ten fingers digging deeper as they tried to hold on. You were warm, so comfy, and definitely not ready to be pulled out from your blissful slumber. You'd not had this good of a night's rest in days.

A soft chuckle followed, and then, “Hey,” again. “Can I have that back?”

What time was it? Wait, where were you?

You slowly came around, blinked a squinty eye, recognized the room and then, suddenly…

Joe.

You immediately let go of Joe’s hand, realizing that you’d curled half his arm into your chest as you’d been holding onto it like a stuffed animal, fingers still entwined, and then cupped by your other hand as well.

“Sorry,” you croaked, wincing at how your own body had betrayed you in the night like that. Couldn’t trust anyone these days, not even yourself, so it seemed, because clearly asleep-you didn’t care much about awake-you.

“That’s okay. T’was, um, snug,”

“Oh my God,” you groaned, frowning deeper then, and it earned you another chuckle from the other side of the bed. You looked over to see that the pillow-wall had only sort of held up, but that was probably mostly because you’d used one of Joe’s body parts for your own comfort. They were also, you know, literal pillows. Easy to let arms sneak under, move out of the way, push down into the bed more a little... but it was fine, you reasoned.

Two more days, forty-eight hours, and then you'd be out of here and these could just be embarrassing distant memories then. No reason to panic over any of it now. You could do that later, on your own, when you'd be back holding your own hand in the bed again, like a normal person.

Joe got up and out first, said he'd go for a shower upstairs and casually walked out. Like this wasn't awkward at all.

But all right. No time to fret. Today was premier day, and there would be more furniture delivered, you had that bed to build, and you still had a thank you speech to write... plenty to keep your mind occupied. Thank fuck.

And so the morning passed quite uneventfully. You avoided Joe a little, you let a stylist in, heard Joe lead him upstairs to where his good shit was now stored, and then made your way up to Joe's bedroom where you started on the furniture.

You'd turned into a much sweatier version of yourself when you were called down. Presumably, to see what Joe'd be wearing?

"Come here, have a look. I was thinking definitely black, but, there's other options too,"

Joe's stylist was stood next to a clothing rack that held what looked suspiciously like a couple of... dresses.

"Huh?"

"I'm wearing black as well,"

Joe held out his arms and presented himself, in bright red socks still, but wearing a lovely black suit. An unreasonably expensive one, you were sure. When you looked back at the stylist, he was holding a dress on a hanger up and out to you, looked at the hemline of the skirt, then at your legs, and said, "Yea, this should work."

Confusion.

"I'm getting dressed?"

The dress lowered a little.

"Honey, you've been seen out too many times with you looking like you've never looked in a mirror before. Of course, you're getting dressed. For today, and for tomorrow."

You looked at Joe. He wasn't even paying attention to you, but had turned back towards a mirror and pulled on the collar of his jacket a little.

"Um, okay?"

Your hesitation towards this whole concept made the stylist pause, look at you for another second, and then he pulled out his phone to show you a few pictures of you and Joe out and about; getting out the car together, getting into the car together, walking out of several BFI locations together — even outside pubs together.

"What the fuck?" you took the phone from his hands, zoomed in, and then just, stared for a hot second. You hadn't seen what you and Joe looked like together yet, standing close, eyes looking down streets in the same direction, to locate your car, you thought. If you were to tell someone, that's Joe and his PA, you'd believe them. But if someone would tell you, they hold hands at night, you'd believe them too.

"Worst part of the job," Joe then said and made eye-contact with you in the mirror. "Sorry," he apologised, like this was all his fault, but your mind was already elsewhere.

You inhaled a sharp breath, then looked up at the stylist and cocked your head to the side a little. You knew there was an NDA that prevented you from sharing information, but... sharing pictures? Was that allowed?

"How psycho is it to send these to an ex-boyfriend, do you think?"

Joe burst out in laughter, head thrown back, but the other man in the room leant in a little closer and said, "Very, but, do we care that he thinks you're psycho? Or do we just care that he sees the photographs?"

Oh, you liked him.

And you liked the dress he was holding too. And the shoes he'd lined up. And the selection of purses laid out.

You liked all of it, until he said, "Lose the accessories," when he started laying out jewellery he'd brought along with him. You only had one accessory, and your eyes immediately found it.

"Don't worry about that," Joe started, "I wear my own things all the time," and he showed you both his hands, showing off two silver rings that he never seemed to take off.

The stylist sighed. "Except for the moments I can talk you into losing those chains," and you sensed that this was definitely something they'd talked about — bickered about, before. You wondered for how many other events this guy had dressed Joe.

Joe just shrugged, looked at you and said, "If it's important, it's important, and you keep it on."

And so, you had kept it on.

Because you had shit to prove to yourself, didn't you? You had the very important task at had of not thinking of a pink elephant when someone told you not think of a pink elephant.

Impossible, maybe.

But you didn't have problems. Solutions were your thing, and shit like pride, stubbornness and determination too.

You'd kept the ring on.

And it was a good thing that you did. Because if you hadn't had the ring to fidget with, you probably would've started pulling at the treads of your hemline when a furniture delivery was late, which meant now you were going to be late to Joe's own film premier.

Potential disaster.

"They really should arrive any second," you assured Joe, entirely unsure if you were even close to being right. "It's probably London traffic," which was probably true, but also didn't help, because, "Yes, London traffic that we have to get into," and shit, Joe was right. You'd majorly fucked up again.

Forty-one hours to go.

And forty hours and 40 minutes to go still, when you launched yourselves onto the backseat of the car after giving the delivery men instructions on how to lock up after themselves.

But then forty hours and 20 minutes to go when you got stuck in traffic, and Joe received a phone call, asking where he was and what was taking him so long.

You made apologetic eye-contact as Joe explained with a bouncing, impatient leg, which made the whole backseat shake, that you were on your way. He seemed really nervous and you felt guilt, shame, for making this whole situation worse. Then you saw Joe look past you, out the window on your side of the car. He grabbed your shoulder a second to alert you, then undid his seatbelt and scooted over, closing the distance between you. He said bye to whoever had called him, hung up, undid your seatbelt next, and pointed at a tube station on the other side of the street.

"We're taking the tube,"

"What?"

"Come on, let's go," Joe leant over and opened the door on your side before pushing you out. You stepped out, kind of because you had no other choice, but objected verbally none the less.

"That's the central line, Joe," you hissed. The central line was notoriously crowded. You know, the insane kind of crowded where people had to move their heads out of the way not to get stuck in between the doors, absolutely packed into carriages like sardines.

"Yea," he closed the door behind him and stuck out an arm in front of you before checking to see if it was safe to cross. "Let's go," he then said, and smiled at you before grabbing your hand and dragging you along.

And even though you'd lived in London long enough, had had your fair share of rush hour experience, even on the central line, there was one thing you'd never done before. You'd never stepped to the left on an escalator to follow the walking crowd down into the station. Especially not in a stupidly expensive designer dress and in stupidly expensive designer shoes. You'd also never done it whilst holding a famous actor's hand as he made sure that you made it down safely behind him, but you know, that was something to store away in that little part of your brain where you also slotted waking up with Joe's arm pressed in between your boobs. Shit to unpack later, preferably with wine, whilst taking a bubble bath with a loud sad playlist on.

Like you'd predicted, the westbound platform was packed, and the train that pulled up was already full of people. It was the time of day where if one person got off, only one new person would be able to get on.

But you were running, and when doors opened, you kind of flew past everyone and jumped into the train — rude, definitely, but you had good enough reason to not wait your turn, and Joe was taking the lead. So, fuck all of it, you could be rude.

"Duck, duck, duck," Joe said, holding a protective hand over your head as the doors closed behind you with loud beeps, and once they slammed shut, you realised there were no handles close enough for you to hang onto. Joe was able to reach up a hand, hold onto the railing above him, and then, even though you were pressed in between others and also, up against each other, he offered his arm to you for balance.

Without thinking, you grabbed hold of it with both hands, and you saw Joe grin. You weren't interlacing fingers with each other, but this was definitely reminiscent of how you'd woken up that morning together.

"Shut up," you said softly through gritted teeth, not wanting to pull too much attention from strangers.

"I didn't say anything," Joe said back in the same way, and then you both grinned.

Idiots, the both of you.

You made it, sort of on time. Not really, but, on time enough. Joe still got his picture taken on the red carpet, had girls scream for him, did some selfie-taking and some skin-signing by the barriers and then headed inside to mingle and network before the film started.

This time he also had a not-too-awful looking PA babysitting his phone and cigarettes too, and you realised that being dressed this nicely made people not give you weird looks as you hung around the lobby on your own during the film screening.

Or when you snuck into the Q&A afterwards.

Or when you left the building and slipped back into your car together after the Industry Happy Hour.

"Congratulations," you said to a rosy cheeked, tired-looking Joe. He looked at you and smiled bashfully. The whole thing had gone so well — Joe'd effortlessly made it through the whole evening, and the talk of the night was the award ceremony of the next day. If not The Sutherland Award, then surely, they'd win the audience award for Best Feature Film. You'd heard almost every single person open conversation with Joe by telling him they would win tomorrow, and every time Joe'd given that same shy smile he was giving you right now.

T'was real cute.

"Did you have fun?" you then asked, and earned a chuckle from him.

"Did you?" Joe asked in return.

"I did," you said, meaning it.

"Then I did too."

Back at the house, it was a quick goodbye to the driver who you wouldn't see until the late afternoon of the next day, and then heavy alcohol induced steps that carried the both of you inside.

Joe immediately made his way upstairs, but you couldn't help wanting to quickly check the living room. The sofa had been delivered, as well as other important decorative pieces, and you wanted a peek at everything before bed. Tomorrow you'd try your best to pull it all together.

There were only thirty-one and a half hours left now and if there was one thing you wanted to leave Joe with, it was a nice house that he could actually live in like a normal person.

Getting out of your shoes and dress felt heavenly, and the silence coming from upstairs was nice too. No loud TV tonight.

Just before you were about to tuck in for the night, you sat on the edge of the bed and looked at your ring again.

That stupid ring.

Was it really worth wearing it to prove something to yourself if all it really did was remind you of the past? Of that pink elephant? You took it off, looked at your hand, felt it looked weirdly naked without the ring there, and then slid it back on. Somehow either way, with or without, it didn't look right.

So, what about a trial?

Just for the night?

You could leave it off, and then you'd see what that would feel like in the morning.

You could do that, right?

Um, bestie, you decorated a full house in three days — okay, not entirely, but tomorrow you'd finish it, that was the plan, anyway — of course, you could fucking do that. So you placed the ring on the bedside table, and got into bed properly when suddenly, in the low light of the bedside table lamp, you saw Joe.

Joe was standing in your doorway, two pillows in hand, eyebrows apologetically quirked up in question.

You had built Joe's bed. Had fully made it, sheets and duvet covers and everything. He should be absolutely fine sleeping upstairs in his own room now.

And for a couple of seconds — just a few — the look you shared was nearly too intimate. Too vulnerable. Joe was silently asking if he could come sleep in bed with you again, pillows ready to make-shift another pillow-wall in between the two of you. It was a short moment of openness, no walls in between the two of you, leaving all this space for an honest connection. And maybe the couple of drinks each of you had had helped, because you understood.

"Come on," you caved far too easily, knowing you shouldn't because there was no real excuse, was there?

But, fuck it.

"You sure?" Joe asked, but his feet were already making their way over to the other side of the bed where you slung back the covers for him, ready to slot some strategic pillows into place before turning the light off.

"I totally understand," you started, getting comfortable, but then couldn't help yourself, and said, "I left the TV all unplugged and stuff," and got a huffed laugh from Joe.

In response, Joe slung an arm over the pillow wall, said, "Here, for in between your tits,"

You laughed, slapped his hand, raised a middle finger over the pillows in between the two of you and then, before you could pull it back, Joe grabbed it.

Not in a cute, let's hold hands again, sort of way, but more in a, let me get a closer look, manner.

You couldn't see Joe's face, but you could practically feel his eyes on your fingers, the way he angled them toward the little light that filtered in through the curtains to make sure he'd seen it right. Then, to really make sure that you knew he noticed, he held your finger in between his thumb and index, pressed the spot that held your ring before, and then let go. Despite lying down, you felt dizzy, head sort of spinning, thoughts forming a weird tornado — nothing violent, more floaty than anything else.

After a short silence where you didn't really know if you could even properly breathe, Joe whispered a good night and you heard him turn over. You said it back and turned over too. No more jokes. No hand holding. No alarm set. Just, sleep.

You mentally told your arms to keep to themselves. To not let them sneak over, like Joe's had done the night before. And so like the lonely idiot your were, you clasped your ringless hands together and kept them like that, fingers squeezing, almost in prayer, until you drifted off.

But the morning brought betrayal.

You'd been let down by your own body, what a traitor, as you slowly woke up to light outside the window and you realised immediately that you were on top of Joe.

All snuggled up. Arms slung around waists, legs woven together — the whole deal. Shit you'd be fired for— should be fired for, if you were honest with yourself.

A strong arm behind your back held you in place, and your face moved with the rise and fall of Joe's chest as he breathed deeply and steadily.

You'd drooled all over him, left a wet patch on his T-shirt and although you'd only just woken up, your body was already rigid with panic. No! Oh my God, gross. You wiped a hand at your face, then at Joe's shirt, tried your best to move as little as possible not to wake him. It was no use patting at the saliva-soaked fabric — that was wet and was going to stay wet.

There was also no way Joe was asleep still.

That arm in your back was far too strong, muscles working, quite literally pressing you up against him more.

This man was pretending.

The thought-tornado returned, mind reeling with what it all could mean, but what you knew for sure was that... this was nice. You hadn't set an alarm and were all cosy and warm as it was slowly getting lighter outside. All of this was nice. Real nice.

So, you decided, you could pretend too.

You could pretend you hadn't drooled all over Joe. Your boss, who slept in his guest room with his temp PA, even though he had a perfectly fine, beautiful, gorgeous new bed waiting for him upstairs. You could pretend you hadn't woken up yet. Hadn't felt Joe's arm around your back, legs hooked around yours, his breath softly fanning your face.

You pulled on Joe's T-shirt a little, shifted to lay your head back on a dry piece of his fabric-cladded chest and closed your eyes again. Nuzzled a little. Liked his scent more than you dared to admit, and sighed deeply, relaxing more into him. You felt Joe pull you in more as a response, small noises of contentment escaping his throat and you snoozed. You snoozed with Joe, bodies touching, your ear pressed to his heart, body heat shared and slow breaths in sync.

You could pretend — were very good at pretending, and then, got even better at pretending when you felt Joe trace a finger across your face, feather light touches down your cheek, then across your lips before he pressed a kiss into your hair. Yea. You were good at pretending, but also definitely absolutely fucked.

Twenty-four hours on the clock, and counting.

Where the day before you'd been so good at being normal, you'd avoided a little, occupied yourself with tasks away from Joe, did PA things on different floors from Joe, until spending the night together was all forgotten about... this morning was different.

It was awkward glances, thin smiles and shaky bumps of hands in the kitchen as you made coffee and Joe tried to make toast. Hesitant arms would wait to reach, "You go first," and then, "No, you go," polite smiles, and then small, "Oh sorry," and "Oops, sorry, wait," until you let a stupid noise escape your throat - something you would one hundred per cent lie about if someone were to ever ask you about it. It was an embarrassing sort of whiney laugh-sigh, and it was that little noise that made Joe look at you before grabbing you by the shoulders, forcefully turning you towards the dining room, saying, "Go sit, I'll take care of breakfast."

Stupid.

But welcome, because being near Joe also meant being near your own spit stain on his T-shirt that he hadn't changed out of yet.

"Thanks," you gave a weird smile before making your way into Joe's dining room, sitting down at Joe's new table on one of Joe's new chairs. Looking around, you were so pleased with yourself. The room just needed one large piece of artwork on the back wall, and a floor lamp in the corner, and both of those would be delivered that day.

Your last day.

Over breakfast, you checked Joe's schedule, told Joe he needed to spend most of the morning signing Eddie photos and he twisted his wrist in response. "Got it, boss," he said, speaking into his coffee cup before taking a sip.

Fucking handsome.

Stop that.

"You'll find that you're very much the boss here, not me... do you need help writing an acceptance speech? They told me that if your film wins, you'd have to go and collect it and say a few things,"

Joe frowned, gestured a dismissive hand.

"I'll think of something on the spot, don't worry,"

And you would've objected, but Joe took his last bite, said he was going for a shower and whilst still chewing, stood up and made his way out of the room. But then, when passing you, Joe squeezed your shoulder. Just, casually, in passing, laid his hand on you, squeezed, and then walked out.

With Joe safely out of sight, you shut your eyes as tightly as you could and dropped your head forward.

Fucking hell.

Deep breaths, bitch.

Come on. Get your mind out of the gutter. Keep your hands busy. There was actual work to be done. A dining room to tiny, a kitchen to clean, a shower to be had and then deliveries to be accepted. And that was when your morning became what it was the day before as well — Joe busy in one room, you busy in another. Until you had to let the stylist in, who walked inside, arms full of dust bags with hangers peeping out the tops of them and immediately asked you if you'd seen.

"Seen what?" you closed the door behind him.

"You haven't?"

He made big eyes at you, dumped all he was holding into your arms and took his phone out to show you pictures and videos taken by strangers of you and Joe rushing down tube escalators, then of you and Joe on the actual tube. You were barely visible because of the many other people surrounding you, but Joe's hair was definitely there, and they'd managed to catch your smile perfectly in between the shoulders of strangers. And then there were pictures of Joe on the red carpet that you were in the background of, and if you didn't know any better, you could be mistaken for another actual celebrity.

"Look at those legs," the stylist said, zooming in on your lower half on a pic that showcased the dress he'd leant you perfectly.

"Shut up," you got all shy, pushing into him with your shoulder.

"It's these pictures that made me get my hands on two other beautiful dresses people want you to wear," he nodded at the folded over bags in your hands.

"People want me to wear?" you repeated, gobsmacked. There was no way.

"There's brands that want those legs peeping out from their designs," he said, sliding his phone back into his pocket and taking all he'd handed you back into his own hands.

"If someone had told you five years ago..." you both turned, saw Joe at the top of the stairs looking down at you, grinning wide. "Would you have believed them?"

Without a playful answer ready, you just shook your head, all bewildered. Couldn't actually believe anything that had happened over the past four days, if you were honest.

The stylist made his way upstairs, had another suit for Joe to try on, said he'd call you up when he'd need you, and then you heard him tell Joe that his place started looking real nice.

Excellent.

It was starting to look real nice, you agreed.

Not fully finished yet, but you'd get there today. Could properly show Joe all of it once you'd hung all the wall art, placed all the decorations in the right spots and twisted in all the lightbulbs, and you felt excitement and nerves twist up your stomach. You were all over the place today.

You were all over the place as you tried on new dresses.

Were all over the place as you styled your own hair.

Were all over the place as you called Joe down, because the car was waiting, and you had to leave to beat London traffic.

Were all over the place when Joe smiled at you as he jogged down the stairs, the both of you remembering your mad dash to the red carpet the day before.

Were all over the place as you sat in the backseat in a slutty dress and in slutty heels and passed Joe a piece of gum.

Were all over the place as Joe said he wanted to actually go out with you, hold your hand, do the full red carpet together.

And were all over the place as people asked you what you were wearing, like you mattered, and Joe encouraged you, a slight tug on your hand, to answer people, to smile at them, to show the back of the dress as well as your shoes.

You were only able to start pulling yourself together slightly when the award ceremony started, and you'd been allowed a seat upstairs on one of the balconies. Perfect view of a twitchy, nervous Joe, downstairs near the front.

They won.

Of course, they won. The fucking Sutherland Award as well.

Joe said exactly the right words. Somehow found your eyes all the way up where you sat, and you gave one of those stupid little encouraging nods again that made him huff a laugh into the microphone for everyone to hear before he said thank you again, and received thunderous applause from the full venue.

It was a great night.

A great night.

Your last night, hours counting down.

Your duties would end right after the event was over, that's what you'd been told. You were totally okay to head back over to Joe's, collect your things, say goodbye forever and take public transport home. Technically though, you were on the payroll until 8AM the next morning, so if you really wanted to... you could sleep over at Joe's for one last night, use the excuse of time you owed him still.

You didn't know what to do. What would be smart. But you did know that the evening was a success. And then Joe'd gotten drunk, because, why not? He deserved to, honestly.

It was after midnight when you opened the door of your car and presented Joe with the backseat that he let himself fall onto. You had to help him do up his seatbelt, and once it clicked, Joe's arm was around your neck as he pressed hard lips to the side of your head.

"Okay, Joe," you said, laughing, fighting yourself free from his grip. Joe let go of your easily, let you slide into your own seatbelt before the driver pulled up onto the road, but then, Joe snuck a pinky finger over to nudge against yours, and you linked pinkies, each staring out the window on your own sides of the car. Not talking. Barely even breathing, until you made it back to Joe's.

You found the keys, fumbled a little as you tried to open the door, and then froze completely when you felt Joe's hands take hold of your hips behind you.

You swallowed thickly, said, "We shouldn't," before looking over your shoulder. "I'm technically still working for you," you reasoned, hands now turning the key, the door swinging open in front of you, but neither of you moving.

"But the show's over," Joe softly whined, revealing that he'd been waiting.

Shit.

You knew then, if you'd let him, he would. Drunk or not.

"It is. But the contract runs 'til morning," you stepped inside, out of his hands and turned by the door, ready to close it behind Joe as he followed you in.

"The contract," Joe groaned, sobering up real quick as he stepped forward, turned and sat down on the stairs.

You balanced yourself against the wall as you bent over to take your shoes off. Joe did the same, pulling at laces, dropping shoes to the floor with loud thuds.

"8AM," you said, not even trying to hide that what you meant was, at 8AM there's no more rules and we can do whatever.

"But," Joe sat still, looked at you as you stepped out of your shoes and then stood opposite him, waiting for him to continue. "The festival is done."

Whiney baby Joey reached for a hand, and you gave him one to hold without thinking much.

"Yea but, technically—"

"I don't like these technicalities," Joe winced, pulling you in closer.

"It's very complicated," you smiled softly and let yourself be pulled right up against him, your hips to his knees, your hands in his.

"So complicated," Joe agreed, looked up at you, said, "We'll do an excel sheet on it in the morning," jokingly.

And then he looked at you. Waited for the next move, because if you weren't going to make it, he wouldn't either, and he'd end up alone, upstairs, in his new bed, with the TV on. Extra loud tonight.

You looked down at your hands in Joe's.

They didn't feel so naked anymore.

Looked fine, actually.

"So then... fire me," you then breathed, and caught Joe by surprise.

You carried solutions, damn it. Never problems.

"Fire me,"

"You're fired," Joe said immediately, and reached up a hand to touch your face. "You're so fired," and it only took the smallest of pulls from his fingers that curled around the back of your neck for you to let yourself fall onto him — into him.

Mouths half open, lips pressed together, "You're fired," repeated over and over in heavy breaths that fanned your face as you kissed. Joe's hands, arms, pulled you close as the edges of the steps dug into his back behind him, but he didn't care. He got to kiss you, like he'd been wanting to from day one, right from the fucking start.

"I'll double fire you if we go upstairs right now," Joe's hands found your ass, and you didn't even mind that they had slid underneath the dress, grabbing at your bare flesh.

"Two negatives make a positive," you said, nose bumping against his, eyes still closed as you brushed your lips against his once more.

"Fuck— tripple fire you then— just, get upstairs,"

If someone had told you five years ago, no, five fucking days ago... you'd have probably gone, "All right, Susan," all sarcastic, and all bitter. Because there was no way that your best friend calling you about a temp job was going to end with Joe pushing you up two flights of stairs, into his own bedroom. The one that you'd fully decorated. Organised his wardrobes in. Made the bed of. Now to be messed up by you as well.

“Careful, I’m going to lose my fizz fast. All these bubbles up in my coca cola? They’ll be gone before you know it,”

Joe pushed you onto the bed, towered over you, and said, “I know,” and then smiled a slow smile, the kind that dripped with adoration for even mentioning his stupid little metaphor, before continuing, "But the caffeine of you will do."

You were making out like horny teenagers, mouths and tongues wild and hungry as your hands much more carefully and sensibly got each other out of expensive outfits.

You wouldn't have believed them.

Not for a single second.

You fell asleep in each other's arms after, both hands with fingers interlaced and the TV still turned off. Just the sound of your panting filling the room, until breaths were caught and eventually evened out. The skin on skin contact between the two of you erased all the loneliness that had lingered in between these walls before. It was healing in the most wholesome of ways and it filled the dark corners of the both of you up with light.

You'd have never believed them.

Never.

the end

—

The Taglisted:

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(taglist currently full, sorry)

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfic #fluff #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #rpf #in 120 hours #part 5

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