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wheresarizona · 10 months

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Learning to Live Part 22

summary: Javier arrives home in a grumpy mood because somebody (you) decided to tease him before work, and now he’s going to get his revenge. Once that’s taken care of, it’s time to meet his family to celebrate Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) and pretend like you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life earlier.

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, age gap (about ten years), soft Javier Peña, grumpy Javier Peña, dom Javier Peña, alternating pov, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, edging, light bondage (he uses his tie), dom/sub vibes, (1) pussy slap, spanking, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink (oh wow, are you told how good you’re doing), begging, spit mention, kitchen sex, I swear this chapter is really wholesome, domestic fluff, fluff, death of a parent/grief, emotional hurt/comfort, food as a metaphor for love, family fluff, family bonding, Javier and reader playing matchmakers, hanging out with Chucho and the fam, celebrating Día de los Muertos, Javier saying very romantic things)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 19.6k+ (in my defense, it’s a good time)

a/n: Hey, besties! Okay, so the general vibe of this chapter is good feels. Are there emotional moments that might make you tear up? Yes. But overall, we’re having a good time remembering Javier’s mom. A big thank you to @kilamonster, who helped me with the holiday info and double-checked what I wrote. Shoutout to @juletheghoul for making sure my Spanish made sense and always being by my side. And a huge thank you to @senorabond for betaing!

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

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The seasons had changed, and like a piece of twine, your and Javier’s lives had become so intertwined it was hard to see the individual threads—there was no you or him anymore; it was you both together always, a mated pair, making each other stronger and happier than ever.

Not only had your life melded with your boyfriend’s, his family, too, had taken you in, treating you like your last name was already Peña and happily including you in their get-togethers. Everyone was so warm and welcoming, introducing you to different aspects of their culture, which was important to you to know for your future children, Javi and you wanting them to be well aware and proud of their Mexican roots, both agreeing they’d be raised speaking English and Spanish.

After the first tamalada (tamale-making party), the two of you made it a point to go to his tía María’s on Sundays for the weekly family gathering where everyone ate delicious food, drank too much beer and tequila, and hung out for hours. His tías ushered you into the kitchen as soon as you got there to cook with them, their daughters, and daughters-in-law, Javi always close by and getting roped into helping, too, since he followed you around like a big, beautiful, brown-eyed puppy dog.

In the time that’s passed since first meeting your boyfriend’s extended family, there’d been a couple more tamaladas hosted with Javi happily included; the regular Sunday gatherings, of course; many birthdays; Día de la Independencia (Day of Independence or Mexican Independence Day) that ended up being a big party at Chucho’s where Javi’s primos (cousins) had gotten their hands on illegal bottle rockets and put on quite the firework show.

Now you were celebrating another holiday with them.

It was a Monday in November, Javi and you getting off work a couple of hours early, you arriving home before him while he was out running errands. You had changed into cotton shorts and an oversized t-shirt to be comfortable while you cooked food for the evening, planning to get dressed closer to leaving.

Your recipe journal was open on the kitchen counter, showing one you copied from your boyfriend’s mom’s recipe cards out at the ranch—a covered skillet was on the stove with chopped-up flank steak simmering in a tomatillo mixture, figuring out in your head when you should work on the next step that wouldn’t take too long, but also couldn’t be done too soon.

The sound of the front door being unlocked out in the main room found your ears, hearing Javi coming inside, and shutting it behind him, followed by plastic rustling, assuming he was putting down what he bought on the couch.

Frowning, you wondered why he hadn’t called out to you, which was usually the first thing he did after arriving home.

“Javi?” you said loud enough for him to hear.

Soft footsteps were getting closer, turning your head in the direction of the doorway to see him walking purposefully, strutting, your way with his face pinched in a grumpy expression, his gaze burning when it locked on yours, making you gulp.

You were in trouble.

And if you had to guess, it was because of what you’d done that morning.

He’d discarded his grey suit jacket, half the buttons open on his white dress shirt, and his gold and charcoal tie undone, it resting around his neck on either side of his chest.

“What’s wro—” Your sentence was cut off when his mouth crashed against yours, kissing you hard, his hands grabbing your waist to turn you toward him, glad you weren’t holding anything.

His palms moved down to squeeze your ass, moaning when he shoved his tongue into your mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair's soft, thick strands. The way he was kissing you made arousal burn brightly in your belly, feeling it dripping into your panties.

Your lips were fused together until your lungs ached with the need to breathe, him nibbling on your bottom lip, then your chin as you both panted.

“What are you doing?” you asked through heavy breaths, gasping when he sucked on your pulse point.

His head came up to look you in the eyes, his eyebrows dipping low, seeing his frowning lips were red and shiny from spit.

“Finishing what you fucking started this morning,” he said in a deep rasp.

“Oh.”

“Yeah— ” He glanced over to the stove. “—how long does that need to simmer for?” he asked, meeting your gaze once more.

Checking your wristwatch, you answered, “Forty-fiveish minutes.”

The wheels were turning behind his eyes, imagining him doing math in his head until finally, he nodded once. “That’s enough time.”

Your eyes went wide. “Enough time for what? There are other things I have to do for the stew…”

“Fine, I’ll do it in thirty—pants off.” He crouched in front of you, pulling down your shorts to your ankles.

“Javier,” you exclaimed.

His head tilted up to look at you. “If you tell me to stop, I will.”

“I don’t want you to stop—I’m just really caught off guard.”

His eyebrow arched, still frowning. “You shouldn’t be with how fucking mean you were to me this morning, teasing me by wearing nothing but this fucking thong—” His fingers went into the waistband of it, tugging it down to join your cotton shorts. “—rubbing up on me, grabbing my dick, and then you got dressed and gave me one of those kisses that usually leads to more, and you just left me in the fucking kitchen hard as a rock.”

“I was running late for work?” you tried.

His eyes narrowed. “Bullshit—you just wanted to fuck with me.”

A smile pulled up on your lips. “Yeah, I did, and look at how needy you are,” you replied, stroking your hand through his hair.

He freed your feet, standing back up with a grunt. His hands squeezed the globes of your bare ass then one landed on a cheek in a loud smack that had your breath stuttering. “I’m not fucking needy,” he said. “You got me horny on purpose and made sure I didn’t have enough time to jack off—you were a bad fucking girl—” He slapped your other asscheek. “—and now I’m gonna fucking give it to you.” A hot spike of arousal slammed into you at his words, your breath hitching in your throat. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Well, now you’re gonna fucking get it—hold up your hands.”

Doing as he said, you put your hands up in front of your chest, watching as he pulled the tie off from his neck, your eyes going wide at realizing what he was going to do.

“You don’t get to touch me,” he told you. The silky material was buttery soft as it went around your wrists, Javi moving quickly, wrapping them up in some practiced way that when he pulled on the ends of the tie, it cinched your arms together before he was knotting it. He stuck a finger inside to ensure there was a little gap so you didn’t lose circulation, nodding to himself when satisfied.

His gaze met yours, his eyes softening. “Is this okay?” he asked gently.

There was a double meaning to his question, him really asking if you were okay with his demeanor and being tied up—it was a resounding yes to both.

Smiling, you replied, “This is more than okay, babe. Be grumpy again. It’s sexy.”

Curiosity was why you decided to tease him that morning, wondering what would happen if you left him hanging. Honestly, you expected him to show up at your work unannounced to drag you into a supply closet, but he hadn’t; he didn’t even call you on your lunch break, which was very abnormal.

He huffed out a breath, a little smile on his lips. “Okay,” he said, his hand sliding along your jaw, cupping it. “But if it’s too much, tell me.”

“Of course—I trust you.”

“Good. I’ve got you, mi amor (my love).”

Grabbing your waist, his lips found yours once more, kissing you while he walked you to the opposite side of the kitchen until your ass was pressing into the counter. Gripping your thighs, Javi grunted as he lifted you to sit on the countertop, taking up the space between your spread legs, breaking the kiss so he could work open the rest of his dress shirt, it falling to the floor when he shrugged it off.

You leaned back, your shoulders and head resting against the wall cabinet, his attention coming back to you using one hand to lift your tied ones above you to hang them by the tie on a knob. Feeling the smooth wood under them, his other hand pushed one side of your t-shirt up your chest, pulling down the cup of your bra to free your breast. He pinched your nipple, his head dipping down to engulf it with the warmth of his mouth, making you gasp his name at the tingles shooting straight to your weeping cunt.

Coming off your hard bud with a wet pop, he straightened, a serious expression on his face, meeting your gaze with his darkened pools.

“Keep your hands up like this,” he said. “Understand?”

“Yes, Javi,” you answered, nodding your head. “Keep them up, and don’t touch you.”

You could feel your heartbeat at the apex of your thighs, so turned on by the idea of being at his mercy.

“My good girl,” he purred, rubbing his palms up your thighs, his words making you shiver.

He crouched down again, this time putting your legs over his broad shoulders, his big hands pulling your ass to the edge of the countertop, causing you to lean back further, the air biting cold on your wet nipple.

You could see him there between your legs, his eyes on yours as he sucked two thick fingers between his lips, expecting it when he easily pushed them into your pussy, your mouth going slack at the slight stretch. His head moved forward, licking a broad stripe through your folds, the pleasure causing your back to arch, his fingers inside you sliding against your top wall to rub over that one spot only he could find, making your toes curl at how good it felt.

There wasn’t time for him to tease you or to draw things out, he was a man on a mission to get you off as quickly as possible with the time constraints, and he knew exactly how to play your body like a goddamn fiddle.

His lips wrapped around the swollen berry of your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue side to side over it while his digits kept pressing into nirvana, again, and again, and again—the heat was building in your core, feeling the vibrations of his groans, moaning at the sensations that were getting you closer, and closer to your end.

Sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead, your hands above your head struggling under the restraints, wishing you could pull his hair, the knot in your belly winding tighter.

“Oh god, Javi,” you gasped. “I’m so fucking close—you’re gonna make me come.”

Suddenly he was stopping, his mouth and hand leaving you, eliciting a pitiful whine from your throat. Your eyes widened as you looked down at him with his mustache and the bottom half of his face shiny with your slick.

Pouting at him for ruining your orgasm, you panted, “Why’d you stop? I was almost there.”

“What?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “You don’t like someone working you up, then stopping just to be mean?”

You groaned. “Javi, I’m sorry! I didn’t do it to be mean. I just wanted to see what your reaction would be.”

“Yeah? Well, I was a real asshole at work, and now you don’t get to come until I say you can,” he said, lightly smacking your clit, the shock of pleasure pulling a moan from your lips.

He moved your legs off his shoulders so he could stand, and you wondered why you were so into this… Maybe it was relinquishing yourself entirely over to him and giving him all of the power in making you feel good, or him being a little mean which was very different—whatever it was, it had your pussy throbbing.

He continued speaking, asking, “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you answered, frowning. “No coming until you say I can.”

“Good girl,” he replied, his hands moving up and down your thighs while his gaze was on yours. His eyes went soft again. “I love you.”

That made you smile, thinking it was sweet he was still so loving after you’d frustrated him so much. “I love you, too.” His lips quirked up a little. “I don’t know why, but this is really hot. When I decided to try out my experiment this morning, I kinda thought you might show up at my work to rail me in a storage room or something—definitely didn’t expect getting tied up and you being all dommy, which I’m really into, by the way.”

Leaning in, his hands went beside you on the countertop, his head so close the tips of your noses were touching, smelling yourself on his face. “You wanted me to be so fucking horny that I’d fuck you at your work?” He nudged your nose with his, feeling the ghost of his breath on your lips.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

He smirked. “My dirty fucking girl—I knew you were testing me.” His mouth was a hair's breadth away from yours, wanting him to kiss you. “You teased the fuck out of me, and I’ve had all fucking day to think about how I was gonna tease you back.”

“Yeah? You gonna make me beg for you to let me come?”

All his weight went to his right arm as he lifted his left hand to read the silver watch on his wrist, his eyes squinting. “We’ve got time for me to make you beg.” His gaze met yours again. “I’m gonna go hard,” he said, standing straight up while his hands went to the front of his pants where they were bulging, hearing the clank of him opening his belt and him pulling down his zipper. “And I’m not gonna give in the first time you beg.”

Your cunt clenched hard around nothing. “Bring it on.”

Javi snorted, spitting on his fingers and stroking them over his hard cock to get it slick. “We’ll see if you still feel that way when I don’t let you come a couple of times, baby.” He shuffled forward, notching himself at your entrance, and wasted no time pressing inside, sliding all the way to the root in one smooth thrust.

Your mouths had fallen open, seeing his throat work as he swallowed hard, his cock stretching you open. It was truly fascinating that after the many, many times he’d been inside you, he still managed to steal your breath by how big he was on the first stroke.

Your legs went around his middle, locking at the small of his back, feeling the splay of muscles move as he pulled out almost all the way and pushed back in hard, setting up a brutal pace that had your body jolting from the pounding he was giving you.

His hand snaked between your bodies to press his thumb to your sensitive little clit, the pleasure dancing in your center—his thick cock was easily moving in and out of you from how wet you were, rocketing you toward your release, unable to keep from moaning.

It was embarrassing how quickly he was working you up, his face screwed up like he was in pain, mouth open panting breaths, his forehead starting to glisten in sweat with a gorgeous flush moving up his chest and neck to paint his cheeks—he was breathtakingly beautiful as he fucked you, your fingers itching to touch his skin.

“Can feel you fluttering,” he said through his teeth. “You close?”

The heat in your belly was getting hotter, wanting to come so bad, but also not wanting to give in so easily, swallowing thickly. “Yes, I’m almost there,” you answered around heavy breaths.

He came to a stop, pushed all the way inside you, his thumb moving off you, causing your teeth to clench, stifling your whimper from your orgasm dissipating.

His skin shone with a sheen of sweat, his bangs wetly sticking to his forehead, eyes so dark barely any brown remained.

His eyebrow rose, voice rough, “You gonna beg me to let you come?”

“Nope,” you defiantly replied.

“Right,” he said, not sounding like he believed you.

He started moving again when you relaxed, his thumb back in place, circling your bundle of nerves a little harder, his thrusts at the same punishing pace as before. He leaned forward, the side of his face pressed against yours, as he said into your ear, “I think you wanna beg me to come.” The fire in your core was starting to rapidly build again. “‘Cause you know once you go, I can, and you want me to fill you up—you want me to stuff you full.” Your eyes had squeezed shut, trying to stave off your orgasm, his words adding fuel to the flames. “You want me to work it so deep it finally fucking takes.”

Your brain short-circuited, it all too much. “Please let me come, Javi,” you whined.

Immediately he was stopping, and it made you whine his name louder.

“No.” He kissed your cheek, his hand rubbing soothingly over your back. “Not yet, baby.”

Your climax slipped away, the need to come starting to make you ache in your lower belly. You were breathing hard, your hands still over your head, wishing you could swat at his chest and settling with lightly knocking your head against his. “That was playing fucking dirty, and you know it,” you said, your body still coming down from the almost high.

He moved to look you in the eyes.

“Uh huh, says the woman who put on the thong l love and suddenly had to do a lot of bending over while I tried to get dressed for work. I’m the one playing dirty—pot calling the kettle, Cielito, and two can play your game.” He placed a loud smacking kiss on your cheek. “You good?”

Your skin was wet with sweat, Javi’s too, and you weren’t entirely sure how much more of this you could take, knowing if you told him ‘yellow’ or your safeword, he’d let you come immediately. You didn’t think this warranted either of those words… yet.

“I’m good.” You nodded.

“Atta girl,” he said, kissing your forehead. “You’re doing so good for me, mi amor (my love).”

He went back to doing what he was before, his cock pounding into you while he thumbed your clit, once again finding yourself close to an orgasm in record time, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter. His free hand came up to squeeze your breast, his fingers tweaking your stiff nipple, and it was like he had a direct line to your cunt, making you clench around him, Javi groaning as gasping moans fell from your lips.

The pressure was building inside you until he worked you up to your breaking point, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you begged, “Please, Javi, I need to come—let me come. Please.”

“Come for me, mi Cielito (my little heaven),” he panted in your ear. “You did so fucking good for me—come, mi amor (my love). Such a good fucking girl.”

That was all you needed to hear, pleasure exploding inside you, coming with a cry of his name—electricity radiated outward from your center, your body hot, tingling, and tensing up so tight it made his rhythm stutter, a guttural noise coming from Javi’s throat.

He sounded wrecked. “‘M gonna come—fuck, I’m coming.” His face dropped to the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths, him thrusting faster, it sounding wet between your legs where you were joined. Finally, he pushed in to the hilt, bottoming out as he came with a strangled moan. His teeth bit into the meat of your shoulder, making you gasp at the sweet sting, feeling as he gushed inside you.

Seconds passed as you caught your breaths, his head coming up to tenderly kiss you, all slow and languid—he lifted his hands above your head to free your own, and you immediately pushed your fingers into his sweaty hair, him humming appreciatively in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms around you to hold you close.

Everything was forgotten, losing yourself in him, feeling him beneath your fingers, your lips, against your body; smelling his spicy cologne, and something that was uniquely him, something that was simply Javi, making you think of home and happiness.

Panic slammed into you like a truck, suddenly remembering you’d been cooking before he interrupted, abruptly breaking the kiss.

“The stew!” you shouted, pushing on his chest to make him move, Javi hissing as he pulled out, stepping out of your way.

Hopping down from the counter, you ignored how his come was dripping down your inner thighs, rushing to the sink, quickly washing your hands, then moving to the stove, taking the lid off the skillet. A relieved breath left you as you used a large plastic spoon to stir the mixture, thankful it hadn’t burned and knowing you needed to work on the next step.

“You’re a lying liar who lies, Javier Peña,” you said, turning down the burner to low to keep the food warm and walking over to your notebook to read the instructions.

Arms wrapped around your middle, Javi kissing your hair, murmuring into it, “What did I lie about?”

“You said you could do it in thirty, and you used the whole forty-five—please, put your dick away and wash your hands. I need your help.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, kissing your head again, hearing him zipping up his pants and putting his belt on, finding himself beside you at the sink while he washed his hands.

“Wash your face, too,” you told him, grabbing some paper towels from a roll on the counter, Javi cleaning his hands.

“If you begged sooner, I could’ve done it in thirty,” he said, splashing some water onto his face.

“Right, it’s my fault.” You rolled your eyes, handing him the towels he used to dry himself off, throwing them away in the trash can under the sink when he was done.

He turned toward you, resting his hip against the counter while his arms crossed over his naked chest, and damn were they looking good, seeing the muscle definition. There were dark and faded marks you sucked over his pecs and on the column of his throat, one a dark purple right where his left shoulder met his neck from biting him while you rode him in the bath a few nights ago. Your eyes lowered to look at his soft belly and the trail of hair leading down into his grey slacks, knowing what they were hiding.

“I just fucked you,” he sounded amused, “and you’re undressing me with your eyes.” Your gaze met his, seeing him shaking his head with a fond smile. “It is your fault, Cielito, since you’re the one who started it this morning.”

He had you there.

“Fine, it’s my fault.” You frowned. “And, of course, I’m checking you out. You’re standing here looking sexy as fuck, and it’s like I can’t believe all this—“ You gestured at him. “—is mine. You love me. You’re going to marry me one day, and we’re going to have kids together, and as a bonus, you’re a goddamn sex god.” He snorted.

“I’m not a sex god.”

“Um, the absolutely ridiculous amount of orgasms you’ve given me begs to differ. You, sir—“ You poked the center of his chest. “—are a sex god, and I can’t be convinced otherwise.”

His large hand engulfed yours, bringing it up to kiss each of your knuckles and the center of your palm, his big brown eyes on yours.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he replied, pulling you toward him so you were chest to chest, his arm going around your back, his other hand cradling your jaw, seeing the devotion clear in his gaze. “And that you love me, want to marry me, and fuck, want to have my kids. Feel like I need to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t all a fucking dream half the time.” He smiled. “And as a bonus, you’re so fucking beautiful and sexy and the best lay I’ve ever had, so I guess that makes you a sex goddess.”

“I am definitely not a sex goddess.”

He frowned, his eyebrows dipping together.

“Stop that shit. We don’t do that anymore—we’re kind to ourselves, and if you get to call me a sex god, I can call you a sex goddess ‘cause it’s a fucking fact.”

You smiled. “Fine, I’ll be your sex goddess.” That had him grinning, his dimple appearing. “And I’ll be kinder to myself like the therapist said, but the struggle is real.”

“I know, baby.” He leaned in to kiss you gently. “You’ve got me,” he said into your lips. “I’ll help you like you help me.”

After Javi had that panic attack months ago, he brought up seeing a professional, and you were more than happy to help him find one who happened to be a couple of towns over. It was such a massive step for him, and you wanted to be supportive and encouraging in him getting help, so you suggested the two of you try couple’s therapy, too. Not because there were issues in your relationship, but as a way to communicate better, and also help you through your own shit. Frankly, coming from a dysfunctional family that gave you an inferiority complex and low self-esteem really needed to be addressed, and he’d agreed to do it with you. He had weekly individual sessions, and the two of you went every two weeks. Both of you were noticing a big difference in him—he didn’t get caught up in his head as much and talked things out with you if something was bothering him. There hadn’t been any more panic attacks, and it felt like he was really healing and working up the courage to tell you about his past. That was something that still scared him a bit, but the therapist had said he needed to tell you when he was ready.

Pulling back, you looked him in the eyes. “I love you,” you told him.

“I love you, too.”

“We better finish cooking. Can you start heating the pinto beans on the stove? We just need them warmed up, and I already got out the saucepan,” you said, pointing toward the stove. “I need to go to the bathroom and clean myself up because it feels wrong cooking with your come coating my thighs, and I’m not digging the whole no underwear thing.”

He cupped your cheeks, looking at you fondly. “Go take care of yourself, mi alma (my soul). I’ll get the beans going and start chopping up the garnish.”

Smiling, you replied, “You’re perfect, and I love you so fucking much.”

He matched your look, his head coming closer to kiss you. “I love you, too,” he said against your lips.

An hour and a half later, the two of you had finished with the food, showered, dressed, and were making your way to meet Javi’s family.

The scenery was aflame with vibrant gold and pumpkin autumn leaves, the weather finally cooling down as it got closer to winter. It was balmy outside, the kind of day where you could wear your nice, new dress you’d gotten for the occasion and not worry about sweating from it being too hot or needing a jacket because it was too cold. The burgundy red A-line dress was embroidered with long green stemmed pink and white roses that were identical to the ones in Javier’s mother’s flower garden at the ranch, your boyfriend wearing a matching colored short-sleeved button-up sans the flowers, and his usual tight-ass dark wash jeans.

You were sitting beside him on the bench seat in his truck as he drove.

“Oh my god,” you started, turning your head toward your boyfriend, your fingers laced together on your thigh, “we were so busy, I forgot to tell you the hot gossip from work.”

His aviators were on, glancing over to meet your eyes with a smile. “Cuéntame el chisme, mi amor (Tell me the gossip, my love).”

“Okay, so Friday night, Robyn went to the bar and met some guy that she spent the entire weekend with, and as of this morning, he was still at her apartment, and Javi, that’s not the kicker.”

“What’s the kicker?”

“She genuinely likes this guy a lot. She actually blushed while she told me about him and was so giggly—she’s got it bad.”

“That’s such a big fucking deal. She hasn’t dated since—”

“Her fiancé cheated on her six years ago! I know! This is huge, and I’m dying to meet him.”

“Maybe we can all go out for drinks?”

“Maybe.” You chewed on your lip. “I’d worry about spooking her, though. Relationships have freaked her out since her ex, and I really think she’s scared to fall in love again—doesn’t want to risk having her heart broken.” He hummed in agreement, the blinker clicking as he turned onto another street. “Apparently, they didn’t leave her place at all, and he kept up with her in bed. I’ll save you the details, and just say it sounded so fucking exhausting and absolutely put our marathons to shame.” That made him frown. “Wait, have you heard of a Pop Rocks blow job?”

He looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “What the fuck is that?”

You giggled. “Something I learned about this morning. You know the Pop Rocks candy that pops and crackles in your mouth?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, so, with a mouthful of those, you go down on a guy, and I guess it’s a fun sensation for the person with a dick.”

There was a thoughtful expression on his face. “Sounds… sticky. I don’t know…” His attention went back to the road.

“I’d be more worried about choking on the excess saliva in my mouth—now, flavored lube I could get behind. Make your dick taste like strawberries.”

He chuckled. “We can go to the city and find a sex shop to get some,” he said, turning his head to kiss your forehead.

That had you thinking of the things you’d find in such a place, the truck's cab suddenly feeling hot even though the air conditioning was at full blast.

“Wait, find a sex shop?” you asked. “Don’t lie to me. You know exactly where one is.”

“If it’s still there… I haven’t been since college.”

“There’s so much stuff we could buy…” you mused.

He perked up in the driver’s seat. “Like what?”

You snorted. “We’ll talk about it later, babe,” you said, unlacing your hand to pat his thigh. “We can’t get horny right now.”

“You’re the one bringing up candy blowjobs…” he grumbled.

“It was a genuine question since, you know, you’re more experienced…”

A long sigh left him. “You just called me old.”

His fortieth birthday was on the horizon, and the closer it got, the more sensitive he was about getting older.

“No I did not, Javier. I said experienced. There was no mention of your age.”

His jaw flexed. “It was implied.”

“Javi, baby?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Apparently, you need a reminder that I do not care about how old you are and that I find you and your experience very sexy. I mean, you literally just made me come so fucking hard, and I was immediately horny for you again—hell, if we didn’t have plans, I would’ve dragged you to the bedroom for round two.”

His chest puffed up, crookedly smiling when he glanced over at you.

“Yeah? Round two? How would that have gone?”

“Stop trying to make us horny!” you laughed.

His face went grumpy. “Then quit talking about sex!”

“Fine! A safe topic. You said you were an asshole at work today, and since it was my fault, I feel like I should bake your office apology muffins.”

He sighed again. “Yeah, that’s a good idea—we can make apology muffins.”

“Then we will.”

“Thank you, baby,” he said, taking your hand in his and gently squeezing it. “Cielito?”

“Yes, my love?” you asked, leaning in to kiss his cheek, making him smile.

“¿Quieres saber un secreto (Do you want to know a secret)?”

“Sí, siempre (Yes, always).”

His hand moved from yours to press against his heart, the other squeezing the steering wheel's leather so tight it creaked.

“Eres el amor de mi vida y mi mejor amiga (You are the love of my life and my best friend). Te amo más de lo que puedo expresar con palabras y soy el hombre más afortunado del mundo porque me amas (I love you more than I can put into words, and am the luckiest man on earth because you love me). Eres mi mejor amiga y mi media naranja y no cambiaría nada (You are my best friend and my soulmate and I wouldn’t change anything).”

“Oh, Javi.” You couldn’t help it, smothering his cheek and jaw in kisses. “Te amo mucho (I love you so much).” Your voice was muffled against his skin, speaking between each kiss. “Mi amor, mi vida, mi media naranja, mi mejor amigo (My love, my life, my soulmate, my best friend). Quiero ser la madre de tus bebés (I want to be the mother of your babies).”

He chuckled, his head moving to kiss your lips.

“Te amo y quiero que tengas a mis bebés—quiero pasar el resto de mi vida contigo (I love you, and I want you to have my babies—I want to spend the rest of my life with you).”

Pulling back, you were grinning. “Well, you’re in luck ‘cause you’re stuck with me until the end—we’re gonna be old as fuck and wrinkly, and I’ll still think you’re the hottest man alive.”

He laughed, focusing on the road.

“Our kids are gonna be so fucking disgusted by us.”

“Isn’t that nice, though? Them being disgusted ‘cause we’re so sickeningly in love with each other, but we’ll be a great example of what they should look for in a relationship—like your parents. That’s the kind of love we want to have.”

He raised your hand to kiss the back, turning his head to look at you.

“No need to want it,” he said. “We’ve already got it.”

And you couldn’t agree more.

It wasn’t long before you arrived, both getting out of the truck and grabbing what you’d brought, finding it truly impressive the number of full plastic grocery bags Javi could strategically hold in one of his big hands and how many bouquets of brightly colored orange flowers were in his other arm—at the same time, you carried a picnic basket in one hand and a large red and white checkered picnic blanket in the other, pressed to your chest.

The neatly cut grass cushioned your steps as you walked to your destination, a trek you’d become familiar with over the months you’d been together.

“Do you think we got enough flowers?” you asked, turning your head toward him.

He met your eyes, smiling. “Pop picked up some, too, and he brought some of mi mamá’s (my mom’s) roses.”

“Awesome.” Looking forward again, you spotted Chucho, saying, “Oh, good, he’s already here.”

“Yeah, the church service would’ve gotten out a little while ago.”

Approaching the older man, you found him on his knees with his back to you, a bucket of water next to him, and a scrub brush in his hand, scrubbing the wet grey stone in front of him. As Javi said, there were more flowers near his dad, along with a tote bag full of stuff and a small cooler next to a set-up brown and mustard-striped folding camping chair.

“Hey, Pop!” you greeted with a smile.

His straw cowboy hat was on, looking over his shoulder with a grin. “Hola, mis hijos (Hello, my children).”

Quickly, you were setting down the things you held near Chucho’s stuff. “Do you need help with that?” you asked.

“Yeah, Pop, let us help,” Javi added as you took the bouquets from him to set on the ground with the rest, having to do it a few times to empty his arm, the grocery bags getting put with everything else.

“No, no,” his dad, replied, waving away your offers with his free hand. “Me gusta hacer esto yo mismo (I like to do this myself). Lo he hecho todos los años desde que ella ha estado aquí y seguiré haciéndolo hasta que me una a ella—casi he terminado (I’ve done it every year since she’s been here and I will continue to do so until I join her—I’m almost done).”

The engraved inscription on the gravestone was something you’d memorized over the half dozen times you’d visited here.

Antonia López Peña

November 17, 1937 - January 31, 1991

Beloved Wife, Loving Mother, Greatly Loved, and Sadly Missed

A couple of days after watching the home movie of his mom making tamales, Javi brought you to the cemetery for the first time to introduce you to her. He admitted that before then, he wasn’t able to bring himself to visit her in all of the time he’d been back and that the last time he was there was the day she was buried—it was too hard for him.

With you joining him, he’d finally been able to go, taking beautiful white lilies to put upon her grave and giving Javi space while he talked to his mom through his tears, telling her about how happy and in love he was. He had turned to grab your hand and got you to stand next to him, while he introduced you to her, and it was your turn to speak with wet eyes, thanking her for bringing your media naranja (soulmate) into the world and raising such an incredible man, promising to love him and treat him right for the rest of your lives.

After that, you’d been back a handful of times with either Javi or him and his dad, having family picnics or bringing her flowers.

“If you’re sure, Chucho,” you replied. “Don’t think I forgot about you saying your knees were aching Saturday at the tamalada.”

The family had gotten together to make tamales for the holiday.

The older man chuckled. “I love you, too—you worry about me too much, Mija. I promise I’m okay. This is worth the pain, but the two of you will do all the decorating while I sit in my chair.”

You smiled. “To oversee us?”

He grinned. “Sí, tiene que ser perfecto (Yes, it has to be perfect).”

“Yes, it does,” you agreed.

“We’ll take care of it, Pop,” Javi said.

“¿Cómo estuvo su día (How was your day)?” Chucho questioned you both, going back to cleaning.

Your eyes went wide thinking about what had happened earlier in the kitchen, glancing over at Javi, who met your gaze with a smirk, clearly thinking the same as you.

“Pretty fucking frustrating,” he said, staring you down, and it made you playfully punch his arm, mouthing, ‘You asshole,’ while he looked beyond amused.

“His work,” you added, attempting the save and glaring at your boyfriend, who snorted, clearly trying to keep from laughing. “He had a really frustrating day at work, you know how it is, but we both got off early to get all the stuff done.”

“We did get off early,” Javi said, your mouth falling open that he’d say that in front of his dad.

Pinching his side, you continued, “Needed to in order to get the stew ready in time.”

Suddenly, Javi was on you, keeping you against him while his fingers tickled you, squealing his name as you struggled to break away from him, annoyed that he was getting the spots on your sides he knew were super sensitive.

You were laughing and writhing in his hold, batting at his chest.

“Stop!” you giggled. “This is so rude.”

Following your order, he hugged you to him, slotting his lips against yours in a kiss he was smiling into.

“Dios mío (My god),” Chucho said in exasperation, a groan escaping him as he stood back up. “Son peores que nosotros, mi amor (They’re worse than us, my love). No los puedo llevar a ningún lado (I can’t take them anywhere),” he chuckled. “Esto debe ser nuestro castigo por cómo actuamos cuando éramos adolescentes (This must be our punishment for how we acted as teenagers). Ahora entiendo por qué tu hermano mayor siempre estaba molesto con nosotros (Now i understand why your older brother was always annoyed with us).”

Javi’s tongue slipped between your lips, your fingers clawing at his shirt.

“¡Por favor (Come on)!” Chucho exclaimed. “Nada de eso aquí (None of that here). Se que te hemos educado mejor que esto, Javier (I know we raised you better than that, Javier).”

The two of you practically jumped apart at being scolded, Javi’s cheeks pinking up, his reddened lips turned down in a frown, and glistening under the sun’s rays.

“Lo siento, Pop (I’m sorry, Pop),” he said, scratching at the back of his neck while turning his head toward his dad. “I forgot myself.”

“You’re always forgetting yourself around her.” Chucho sighed wistfully. “To be young and in love again.” He smiled. “Your mother always had me forgetting myself, too, but let’s not do that here with all the niños (kids) running around, okay?”

It was then you registered the other people in the cemetery—a bunch of different families with children running around, some decorating graves, others eating food or sipping on drinks, seeing members of Javi’s family amongst them.

Javi grimaced. “Yes, Pop. Sorry,” he sighed.

You felt bad, adding, “We understand and won’t let it happen again. We’re sorry.”

The older man walked close to you both, clapping his hands onto each of your shoulders, looking between you.

“It’s okay,” Chucho said. “I’m just happy you’re here with me tonight—means a lot.”

“Like we’d miss it, Pop,” Javi replied.

His dad frowned. “You missed last year, Mijo, and you’d been in South America for so long. You haven’t celebrated Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) since the first time you left Laredo—I know it’s hard for you to come here.”

Your boyfriend’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“It’s… easier coming here, now,” he said, looking at you. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

A small smile appeared on Chucho’s face, his hand squeezing your boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that, Javi. I know tu mamá (your mom) would be happy you’re here. Do you remember how we’d decorate tus bisabuelos (your great grandparents) graves when we’d go visit your mom’s family in Mexico?”

“Kinda?” he answered. “All the cempasúchil (marigolds), some pictures, candles, and we always brought their favorite food to eat, and mi mamá (my mom) and you would have the mezcal bisabuelo (great grandpa) liked.”

“Sí (Yes),” Chucho replied, nodding. “It will be the same with your mother’s; I just add a little extra.” His attention turned to you with a big smile. “And she’ll love that you made her favorite foods! Thank you for doing it, Mija.” His face went solemn. “After mi Antonia passed, my sisters took over decorating our parents' graves, so I could focus on my wife’s, and since I’m not a cook like her or you,” his hand squeezed your shoulder, “I’d bring food from her favorite restaurant to eat with her. I’m happy we’ll have the things she loved making herself tonight—feels really special.”

“I was happy to do it, Chucho—for you and Antonia. I just hope it all turned out well.”

He smiled. “It did. I have no doubt. Now, I’m going to sit down, and it has nothing to do with my knees.”

You laughed. “I’m surrounded by a bunch of lying liars who lie! Go sit down—” You shooed him away. “—we’ll take care of everything. Just tell us if we’re doing something wrong.”

The older man chuckled as he went back over to where all the stuff and his camping chair were, making a pained sound as he bent down to get into the tote bag to pull out a small handheld radio. Since he was already bending, he popped open the top of the cooler to grab a cold bottle of beer before taking his seat. His drink was put into the built-in cup holder while he turned on the little device hearing static, then quick snippets of songs or people speaking, until it landed on the channel he was looking for, music from his wife’s favorite Spanish station filling the air.

Javi took a step toward you, his head getting closer, knowing he was coming in for a kiss, and you dodged it, him pulling back with a look of betrayal on his face.

“No,” you said, pushing on his chest. “I’m not getting in trouble again.” His eyes rounded, looking sad, and it made your heart hurt. You groaned. “Not the eyes! You know I’m weak against the eyes!”

Chucho was laughing. “He gets them from his mamá! Javi o mi Antonia me miraban con esos ojos grandes y marrones, y yo nunca podía decirles que no (Javi or my Antonia would look at me with those big, brown eyes and I could never say no).”

“Son peligrosos (They’re dangerous),” you replied. Speaking to Javi, you said, “Sé que puedes esperar un beso (I know you can wait a kiss).”

His lips were turned down in a deep frown. “Sé que puedes esperar por un beso (I know you can wait for a kiss),” he corrected. “Y no (And no)—” He shook his head. “—no puedo (No, I can’t).” You wouldn’t have been surprised if he stomped his foot, which had you holding back a smile. “Necesito un beso ahora mismo y estoy molesto porque no me vas a dar uno. (I need a kiss right now, and I’m upset because you won’t give me one).” He grabbed your hands, holding them over his heart. “Me estás volviendo loco (You’re driving me crazy). Solo un beso (Only one kiss). Bésame, por favor (Kiss me, please). ”

“¿Siempre es así, tan malcriado (Is he always like this, so…)?” Chucho amusedly asked.

“What does the last word mean?” you asked.

“Spoiled,” Javi answered, the man pouting.

You laughed. “Yes, he’s muy malcriado (very spoiled) and gets super dramatic when I won’t kiss him—acts like it’s the end of the world.”

Your boyfriend loudly sighed, muttering, “I just want one kiss.”

Your eyebrow rose. “Uh huh, just one? You don’t have the self-control for just one.”

His face pinched in annoyance. “Yes, I fucking do.”

“Okay, prove it. One kiss—” You held up a single finger. “One PG-rated, won’t-have-your-dad-yelling-at-us-again kiss, and that’s it until we finish decorating.”

“Fine.”

“Deal. Lay it on me, babe.” As always, the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, grabbing a fistful of the cotton just below them to tug him toward you to crush your mouth against his in a somewhat chaste kiss. You felt his lips tip up after a few seconds, his arms wrapping around you to hold your body flush against his, pressing his mouth harder to yours like he couldn’t get enough of you.

When you felt like it had lasted long enough, you broke away, him chasing your lips with a dreamy smile, and his eyes closed like a lovesick fool.

“God, you’re cute,” you said, pushing his bangs off his forehead. Leaning forward, you kissed the tip of his nose, his eyelids blinking open when you finished, moving his head forward enough to nuzzle your nose with his. “Feel better?” you asked, unable to keep from smiling.

He separated from you to meet your gaze. “Yeah.” His hands moved down to your hips, giving them a squeeze. “We better hurry up and decorate before I need another.” He ended the sentence with a wink.

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggled. “Okay—” You stepped away from him toward the bags. “What do we start with?”

“Pictures,” Chucho answered. “They’re in that bag.” He pointed at the tote.

Bending at the waist, you dug into where he indicated, finding two photos, bordered in ornate golden frames, that you carefully took out, one then the other, Javi ending up beside you as you straightened, holding them in each of your hands.

The first you’d seen before hanging on the wall in Chucho’s living room of him and Antonia at twenty-something years old with Javi as a smiling toddler in her arms standing beneath the ‘Peña Ranch’ sign at the driveway entrance. This was the first picture you’d seen of your boyfriend’s beautiful mother, easily spotting the similarities between him and her—same eyes, nose, and chin.

At the ranch house, you’d marveled at every photo hanging on the wall, and sitting upon tables, or stuck in albums, yet this second picture of Antonia was new to you. It was in color, and she was much older than in the other, slivers of silver hair amongst the same colored brown as Javi’s, standing in front of her cowboy-hatless husband. She wore a lovely cornflower blue dress, his arms around her middle, kissing the side of her head with her eyes closed, smiling delightedly in a way you just knew she was giggling at his antics. The thing that made your eyes get misty and the corners of your lips lift was how clearly in love they were, something that had never changed through the decades of photos you’d seen of them, knowing without a doubt it was a glimpse into your own future.

“That was taken on our 35th anniversary, not too long before she passed,” Chucho’s voice was even and soothing. “I keep it on the table beside my bed to see her smiling face first thing every morning.” Javi hugged you from the side, kissing your hair, feeling your eyes burn with unshed tears. “Don’t cry, Mija. This is a happy day where the ones we’ve lost come back to us for the night, and we celebrate them—there’s nothing to be sad about.”

You sniffed. “I’m not sad,” you replied, voice a little wobbly. “I promise they’re happy tears at the love you shared and how I can see us like this.” You finished the sentence by raising the photo.

“Oh, yes.” He smiled softly. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to see so much of us in the two of you.” He pointed at you both. “How relieved I am that Javi finally found his media naranja (soulmate).” His eyes were starting to shine, having to take off his glasses to wipe at them. “These are also happy tears,” he chuckled. “Mi amor (my love) would feel the same as me, and she’ll love having you here with us.”

“I’m happy to be here—do you have a preference for where you want these to go?”

“Against the headstone is fine. Javi can get the candles you brought.”

Speaking of your boyfriend, he cleared his throat, his voice rough with emotion when he said, “Sure thing, Pop.”

Turning your head, you kissed his cheek, Javi’s head moving so your lips met, accepting the tender kiss, knowing he needed the comfort, his arm tightening around you. After some seconds, you pulled away with a smile.

“That was a bonus kiss because I love you.”

He smiled big. “I love you, too, Cielito.”

“Good. Now get the candles. Let’s get to decorating.”

“Yes, mi alma (my soul).”

With that, you made the short walk to gently lay the two photos against the middle of the grey stone, your boyfriend joining you to place down a Virgin Mary votive candle beside them and three smaller red-waxed candles—one by the larger candle, the remaining two on the opposite side, Javi lighting them with a lighter from his pocket. Antonia’s resting place featured two flower vases dug into the ground in the middle, where you put bouquets of her roses, adding splashes of red, white, pink, and purple.

Finally, it was time for the bright orange marigolds, Chucho coming prepared with scissors to cut off the blooms, which Javi decided to do while you laid them out on the ground.

“We call those flor de muerto (flower of the dead),” Javi’s dad said as you placed the golden hues in neat rows a little wider than the headstone, the smell of them hanging in the air. “Their aroma attracts the souls of the dead, so they know where to go.”

“They smell so good,” you replied. “And back at the house, the display you have in the entryway, that’s called an ofrenda (offering), right?”

“Sí,” Chucho answered. “It’s an altar that most people put up for the holiday—I keep mine all year.”

The long, thin, weathered oak table had a thick, woven runner on it in rainbow-colored, stripes, sitting below the framed pictures of his wife, along with other family members who had long been gone—parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Javi had told you who each person was, some photos in black and white, most in color, and you hadn’t known the table’s significance until you’d gone over for the tamalada Saturday, finding it decorated with bunches of cempasúchil (marigolds) in vases, brightly colored tissue paper cut into elaborate designs called papel picado (cut paper) hanging on the wall behind it, and an old clay pitcher adorned with hand-painted flowers. A plate contained pan de muerto (bread of the dead) shaped like a bun with crossbones on top and dusted in sugar and Antonia’s favorite pan dulce (sweet bread), a concha, that got its name from how it resembled a seashell. Skulls made from sugar were atop the tabletop, along with a bowl of oranges, apples, and mandarins, a bottle of tequila, and a variety of differently sized candles.

The fiery blooms had been placed down to the first bouquet of roses, a pile of stems on the ground by Javi’s feet as he started to run out of flowers to cut.

“You said the marigolds attract the souls of the dead,” you started, continuing your work, “do the other items have special meanings?”

“They do,” he replied. “The ofrenda (offering) honors our loved ones and has what they need to come here. We use pictures and their things to help them cross over and draw them home. The papel picado (cut paper) has holes for them to travel through so they can visit. Agua (water) to quench their thirst after such a long journey. The candles help guide them, and we put out the food as an offering for them to enjoy.”

“I love that,” you said, putting down the last of the marigolds. “I also love how colorful everything is—it makes it feel so lively.”

“Because it’s a celebration of their lives—a happy occasion.”

“I can tell.” Dusting off the front of your dress, you got up to stand, Javi already putting the cut stems into an empty plastic bag to dispose of. “Is it time for food?” you asked.

“Yes,” Chucho answered, nodding with a smile.

Room was made beside his chair, where Javi spread out the picnic blanket, the basket put atop it. Delightfully, he sat down with his long legs crisscrossed, you sitting the same next to him with your dress fanning out around you. Two of the plastic bags held disposable bowls, plates, cups, and cutlery that your boyfriend got out as you emptied the basket—three large mason jars of stew, a dish piled with warm tamales under foil, a thermos, a bag of pan de muerto (bread of the dead) Javi picked up from Anna’s bakery, and a Tupperware container holding garnish (crumbled bacon, chopped onion, cilantro, lime wedges).

It wasn’t entirely true that Javier hadn’t celebrated Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) since the first time he’d left Laredo.

The apartments the government set up for him in Colombia were fully furnished and decorated, and he never bothered adding any personal touches.

Until his mom died.

Before returning to work after her funeral, he’d gone through one of his father’s many photo albums dedicated to her and taken two of the pictures—he had her rosary, and he needed more reminders as to what he lost while he’d been away and all of the time he’d never get back with the woman who meant the world to him.

It was the guilt of how much he missed, wishing he had visited instead of exiling himself away in the southern hemisphere in shame.

He needed the sacrifices he made to mean something, he needed to finish the job, and with her death, he was determined to do whatever it took to get it done—anything. Desperation had him doing the fucked up shit that got him fired and sent home, and maybe it was self-flagellation that made him go back, wanting a second chance to do things right, make up for his mistakes, and do something his mom would be proud of.

So, when he got back to South America after she passed, two framed photos found their place on a small table in his living room—one of him and her when he started college standing in front of the Texas A&M sign, the second of his mom and dad on their horses, Sombra and Caramelo. He’d gotten a colorful table runner with a similar Mexican serape-striped design, and he wasn’t religious, but a votive candle found its way with the pictures to honor her. Then at the end of October, a small vase of cempasúchil (marigolds) appeared, papel picado (cut paper) going on the wall, a glass of water on the tabletop next to a plate with a single roscón de bocadillo o guayaba (guava paste stuffed sweet bread) he thought she would’ve enjoyed. And, for some reason, it seemed like a good time to make his mom’s pozole; the recipe scribbled on the back of an old paystub and stuck to his fridge by a magnet of a bear wearing a top hat and playing a trumpet that he was pretty sure was already there when he moved in.

A bowl of the soup went on the table with everything else in some kind of hope that his meager ofrenda (offering) would help her find her way back to him. Talking to her rosary a lot during that time, he recounted all of his favorite memories of her while listening to a record she loved and eating his pozole. He did his best to celebrate the life she lived without letting his grief get the better of him and wasn’t embarrassed to admit the first few years, he cried himself to sleep.

His tiny altar was kept up year-round, always setting it up when he got new accommodations and doing the same thing every Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) while away.

When he came home, one of the pictures was taped to the mirror in his bedroom, and the other was kept in his wallet, unable to put them back in the album from which they came because he’d grown attached to them—they brought him peace, and he needed them close. The one of him and his mom was now framed and hanging on the living room wall at the apartment he shared with Cielito, surrounded by more photos of his parents.

It broke his heart that the only picture of her family she put up was one of her grandparents; no one else from her side deserved to be up with the people they loved and who loved them. Thankfully, she had his family now, who he sometimes felt loved her more than him with how often they invited her to do things with them. He didn’t need more proof than when they’d go to his dad’s for her to cook one of his mom’s recipes, and Javier would be left at the house while the two of them went grocery shopping in his father’s precious Mustang—that he always let her drive.

It wasn’t fair, but with how much fun they had together, it made him happy.

She fit in so well with them all, Javier realized it wasn’t blood that made you a family; it was the people you chose to love, and they’d chosen her, like how she chose them.

The previous year, Pop had decorated the ofrenda (offering), and though Javier hadn’t gone to celebrate at the cemetery, he’d spent hours drinking alone and going through the many photo albums at the house—remembering the stories his parents had told him about each and every picture with a sad smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

Things were different now; that lingering sadness that plagued him since her death was gone and replaced with comforting contentment at celebrating her with his father and the love of his life.

He wanted Cielito to see what the holiday was all about and what it meant to him and his family, overjoyed at how eager she was to participate and help. The first time it was brought up, his dad had happily explained the tradition, and without missing a beat, she was asking what she could do, offering to make one of his mamá’s favorite dishes for them to have tonight—she didn’t even bat an eye at them spending their Monday evening amongst the living and peacefully dead.

His heart felt like it’d explode from how fucking happy he was that she cared so much about him holding onto his heritage and family’s traditions—he could cry because she wanted their kids to grow up like he did; celebrating the same things, having loving, supportive parents, and raised bilingual.

He couldn’t imagine Lorraine even wanting to acknowledge their child being half-Mexican and was pretty fucking sure she wouldn’t have wanted them to speak Spanish—knew for a fact she wouldn’t have come with him to celebrate Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead).

And here was Cielito, the woman he was going to marry, pouring carne en su jugo (meat in its juices) she made into a bowl because his dad told her it was his mother’s favorite dish during the colder months.

Javier was so in love with her it was taking a whole hell of a lot of self-control he really didn’t fucking have not to ask his dad for his mom’s ring right this second; four words were in the question that had started blaring in his head whenever he looked, talked, touched, or thought of her, and he was truly getting worried it was going to come out on accident—he bit his tongue so fucking hard to stop himself from asking it when she said she’d make the food for tonight, it bled.

She didn’t have to tell him to put the toppings on the stew, having already opened the Tupperware and gladly accepting the first bowl he started garnishing.

“¿Jugo de limón, Pop (Lime juice, Pop)?” he asked.

“Sí (Yes). Más limón, por favor (Extra lime, please).”

“Está bien (Okay),” he replied, squeezing one slice of lime, then two, and tossing the rinds into a plastic bag he’d designated for trash. “Aquí tienes (Here you go).”

“Gracias, Mijo (Thank you, my son).” His dad took the offered paper bowl and plastic spoon Javier had grabbed for him. “A tu mamá le encantaba preparar esto cuando hacía frío (Your mom loved to make this when it was cold),” Chucho said, bringing it up to his nose and inhaling deeply. “En invierno, era su comida favorita (In winter, it was her favorite food).”

“I remember.” He finished garnishing another bowl, setting it in front of him on the blanket, and taking the next from his amor (love). “She always made caldo de pollo during the hottest month in summer.” He turned his head toward Cielito. “Caldo is a soup with whole pieces of chicken—drumsticks, thighs, breasts, and vegetables, but not like that Campbell’s Chunky Chicken Noodle shit. It has potato halves, whole leaves of cabbage, thick slices of carrot, celery, uh—“

“Those beans,” Chucho added, pointing his spoon at him. “Garbanzo beans, corn, cilantro, and onion—I liked to add hot sauce to mine.”

“So, good fuckin’ chicken soup?” she asked with a grin.

Javier matched her look, nodding his head. “Good fuckin’ chicken soup.”

His dad took a bite of his food, humming appreciatively. “It’s good, Mija,” he said after swallowing. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.” She visibly relaxed. “Javi, remember when you were away at college, the first year, I think, and you got that cold?”

Looking at his dad, he nodded his head. “Yeah, it was freshman year,” he answered, holding another bowl. Glancing at her beside him, he asked, “Baby, do you want everything on yours?”

“Yes, please,” she replied.

Carefully, he leaned over to kiss her shoulder. “You got it, mi amor (my love).” Going back to putting the toppings on her soup, he continued talking. “During freshman year, I got a cold. Keep in mind this was the first time I’d been away from home for an extended period of time, and I made the biggest fucking mistake of telling mi mamá I ate some canned chicken noodle soup—”

Chucho interrupted, laughing, “The condensed kind! Sin vegetales (Without vegetables). Mi Antonia was beside herself—made caldo and had me drive her the five hours to deliver it the next day!”

Javier had a fond smile on his face at remembering the frantic knocking on his dorm room door and being shocked to find his mom and dad on the other side, her barging in and fretting over him. “Yeah—” He discarded the used lime rind into the trash bag and set Cielito’s bowl down in front of him, taking the last one from her. “—she even brought bibaporrú, that’s the vapor rub stuff, you know, Vick’s? Bibaporrú and caldo were her cures whenever we got sick.” A memory came to him. “When I was little and had to stay home ‘cause I wasn’t feeling good, she’d put the vapor rub on me, have me eat the soup, and then I’d lay on the couch with my head in her lap. She’d play with my hair and softly sing until I fell asleep, and I’d always wake up in my bed.” He’d finished putting the garnish on his bowl, setting it down with the other two in front of him.

Arms wrapped around him from the side, Cielito squeezing him tightly against her body.

“Your mom loved you so much,” she said, kissing his cheek.

He rubbed her arm locked over his chest, his head moving to kiss her, saying into her lips, “I know.” He told himself he wouldn’t cry tonight, trying to ignore the tightness in his throat and pulling away, his eyes on hers. “Eat your soup, baby—you worked so hard on it.”

“Okay.” She let go of him to grab her bowl, Javier handing her a spoon.

He picked up one of the soups and leaned forward, reaching as far as he could to set it on top of the marigolds for his mom before picking up his own and digging in.

The flavors hit his tongue, and he groaned happily, the broth rich and flavorful from the steak simmering in its own juices and the tomatillo mix for so long with a little bit of spice from the serrano peppers. It was delicious and so similar to what his mom used to make, taking him back to days growing up when it was so cold she wouldn’t let him leave the house without a sweater and beanie to keep his ears warm—on the walk home from the bus stop, he couldn’t wait to have the carne en su jugo to heat himself up, knowing, without a doubt, it’d be waiting for him and his dad, along with a bowl of freshly cut fruit.

“It’s so fucking good,” he said once he swallowed his spoonful, quickly taking another.

“You like it?” she asked.

“Mhmm.” He nodded with his mouth full, saying when he could, “Love it. You made it perfectly, Cielito—such a good job.”

His dad’s bowl was almost empty, and he leaned over his armrest to open the cooler to pass them both cold beers. Javier set his soup down to twist off the cap, it cool and refreshing when he took a long pull. The glass bottle went into the space between his crossed legs, Cielito setting hers atop the blanket as she ate her food.

There wasn’t much talking with their mouths occupied, finishing his stew in record time, throwing away the bowl and spoon, along with his father’s trash.

“Tamales, Pop?” he asked, pulling off the shiny foil covering them.

“I’d love a couple—¿hiciste chocolate caliente (did you make hot chocolate)?”

“Sí (Yes),” he answered, putting two warm red chile pork tamales onto a paper plate and passing them to Chucho. “¿Quieres una taza (Do you want a cup)? Es la receta de mi mamá (It’s my mom’s recipe).”

When he was younger, and they’d go to the graveyard in Mexico to celebrate, his mother always brought hot chocolate to keep them warm when the sun set, and the temperature dropped. Her recipe was similar to traditional hot chocolate you’d make on the stove with milk, unsweetened cocoa powder, and granulated sugar—hers just also included some cinnamon, vanilla, and a pinch of chili powder.

“No, no,” he waved away the question with his free hand. “Esperaré a que se enfríe (I’ll wait for it to get colder).”

“Está bien (Okay).” He made another plate with one tamale he set next to the full bowl of stew over the golden petals, then served himself three. “I didn’t even need her recipe card,” he said. “It’s one I memorized a long time ago—liked to make it when it got cold in Colombia.”

“Did you make a lot of her recipes while you were down there?” Cielito asked, her bowl finally finished and ending up on the ground in front of her.

He’d unwrapped the corn husk from one of his tamales, putting his disposable dish beside him on the blanket to ensure he served her.

“How many?” he asked Cielito, holding an empty paper plate.

“Um, two,” she answered. He piled them on, then handed it to her.

“Thank you, babe.” She came in for a kiss that he happily reciprocated, all short and sweet.

“You’re welcome, baby,” he said when they broke apart with a smile, picking up his tamales again. “Your question: No.”

“Ate out a lot?”

“Yeah, or Connie fed me.” He held a tamale, taking a bite, his eyes closing at how good it was—they tasted like home and when things were simpler, but he was happy he got to eat them now, with the person who owned his heart.

Almost half of their freezer was filled with tamales, and he was very pleased about it.

Swallowing, his head turned toward her, meeting her eyes as he continued, “With my mom, she’d give me the ingredients and instructions, and we’d cook. I never learned how to tell if fruits or vegetables were good at the grocery store ‘cause she always gave them to me—which wasn’t her fault. I don’t think it ever crossed her mind, and I never thought to ask.” He shrugged. An amused breath left his nose, a smile curling up on his lips. “She also never told me measurements either. The hot chocolate, I can wing, but when I was gone and wanted pozole? I had to call her for the recipe from her card.”

“No radishes, right?” She smiled.

He chuckled. “Yeah, no radishes. I didn’t make many of her recipes because I had no fucking clue how to get most of the ingredients and didn’t want to ask anyone for help.”

“‘Cause you, my love, are very stubborn—” She bounced her shoulder gently against his. “—and if I hadn’t helped you find a good tomato, you would’ve forced yourself to eat a lousy BLT.”

He frowned, sighing, “Yeah…”

“You know what, though?”

“What?”

“You’re an expert produce picker now and make her recipes all the time, and I know she’d be happy you do.” Her face came close, pecking him on the lips.

“She’s right, Mijo,” his dad interjected. “Tu mamá (your mom) would love you making her food.”

It warmed his heart to hear them say that, his eyes beginning to burn, so he distracted himself by taking a big mouthful of his tamale, everyone else doing the same.

Music from the little radio was playing, hearing children's screams as they played, and people talking and laughing in the distance.

His dad finished eating. “Barriga llena, corazón contento (Full belly, happy heart),” Chucho told them, patting his stomach happily. He groaned as he bent over to get a napkin out of a bag to wipe his hands and face. “That was delicious,” he said, his garbage getting set down by his feet. “You outdid yourself, Mija.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her plate also empty. Javi was done and gathered all of their garbage to put in the trash bag. “How late do we hang out here?” she asked.

“As late as you want,” his dad said. “Some people stay until midnight. Others with kids leave earlier.”

“Remember what mi mamá would always say when I’d go out?” he asked Chucho, thinking about the words he’d hear every time he left the house for the evening.

“No podré dormir si estás fuera toda la noche (I won’t be able to sleep if you’re out all night).”

Javier smiled. “Yeah, and I’d always be home before midnight, and you guys were already asleep.”

They laughed.

“I promise she was worrying about you when she’d go to bed,” his dad said.

“Sure, she was,” he replied, taking a sip of his beer.

“She was.” His dad nodded. “She’d toss and turn and finally get up at about one in the morning to make sure you were home and come back to bed. She’d sleep like a baby when you were safe at home.”

His stomach plummeted. “What, uh—” He scratched at the back of his head. “—what about when I was gone…?” he asked softly.

A somber look came over Chucho’s face. “She couldn’t sleep until she prayed for you, and the days she talked to you and could hear your voice, she slept best.”

He remembered while he was in South America, she ended every phone call with, ‘Te amo, mi nene—que Dios y la virgencita te acompañen y todo salga de la mejor manera (I love you, my baby boy—may god and the Virgin Mary guide you and everything goes in the best way possible).’ Her praying for him nightly didn’t surprise him. It was the fact she couldn’t sleep until she did, and he felt awful for putting her through that, his eyes starting to water.

Cielito’s hand rubbed circles against his spine, resting her head on his shoulder. His arm went behind her back, the other around her middle, hugging her tightly while kissing her hair, holding her, soothing the twinge of remorse he was feeling.

“Javi,” his dad said to get his attention, turning his head to meet the other man’s eyes. “She was proud of you, Mijo, and knew you were doing good work—she’d tell anyone who’d listen that her son was going to catch Pablo Escobar and look at all you did; all the good. Sure, you made some mistakes and did things you shouldn’t have, but in the end, you helped make the world better, and I can tell you your mom would be proud of you and all you’ve done.” A tear rolled down Javier’s cheek, having to clear his throat. “You know your mother was a pious woman,” Chucho continued. “She found comfort in praying for your safety every night and lighting a candle for you at Mass—she just wanted to keep you safe in God’s light and knew you wouldn’t pray for yourself. She loved you more than anything, Mijo, and needed to make sure you’d make it back home to us.”

Another teardrop fell.

“I was too late,” he croaked out, thinking about how she was on her deathbed when he finally returned. Cielito wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.

“For her, it was perfect timing—she got to see her nene precioso (precious baby boy) before leaving this world, and that was the greatest gift you could have given her, being the last face she saw and knowing you were safe.” His dad’s eyes were getting wet, him sniffling as he took off his glasses to wipe at them. “Now, this is supposed to be a happy day, and we can’t be sad. You should go see your tías (aunts) and tío (uncle)—your primo (cousin) Sebastián is back from Dallas, and you can finally introduce her to him.” He nodded at Cielito.

Sebastián was his tío Ángel’s eldest son.

He let go of his wif—girlfriend as she sat up beside him and got him to turn his head toward her. He smiled when she fussed over him by wiping away his tears with her thumbs and pushing his bangs off his face.

“Are you feeling okay?” she softly asked him.

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice a little rough.

“Okay.” She nodded. “I know what will cheer you up even more.”

His eyebrows dipped together. “What?”

Her voice went lower, trying to mimic his as she dramatically said, “Necesito que me beses ahora mismo (I need you to kiss me right now). No puedo vivir sin tus besos (I can’t live without your kisses). No puedo respirar sin tus besos (I can’t breathe without your kisses). Bésame, mi amor (Kiss me, my love). Por Favor (Please).” She puckered her lips, closing her eyes.

Air escaped his nose, smiling big.

“No sueno así (I don’t sound like that)!” he laughed. “Eres tan linda y te amo mucho (You are so cute, and I love you a lot).” His hand cradled her jaw, moving closer to her. “Puedes tener tantos besos como quieras, mi amor (You can have as many kisses as you want, my love).” He pressed his mouth to hers hard, kissing her so tenderly it felt like he was melting into her.

She had him feeling better, knowing his dad was right and that this was a happy day, and they shouldn’t be dwelling on the sadness—they were here to celebrate his mom and their other family members who were no longer with them.

Seconds passed, and they were separating, both smiling at each other.

“Let’s go see everyone,” he said.

“Okay,” she replied. “This Sebastián, how old is he?”

That was a good question, Javier wracking his brain to try and remember. “Maybe early thirties?”

“Mhmm.” There was an inquisitive look on her face. “All of your male cousins in Laredo are either—” She held up a finger. “—married—” Another finger went up. “—in a serious relationship—” A third finger joined the other two. “—or are too young. I don’t know anything about this Sebastián. Is he… single?”

“What?” He looked at her funny.

Why did she want to know?

“Don’t look at me like that, Javier! You know I’m not asking for me!”

His eyes squinted. “Then who…?”

“Robyn!” She threw up her hands. “We’ve struck out on setting her up with any of your Laredo primos (cousins), and now a new Peña has appeared! Give me the deets, babe. Is he single? Is he into women? What’s his star sign? Is he cute—that’s actually a dumb question because all of your cousins are hot! Like no wonder they’re all married or in serious relationships and having a ton of babies. Sexy is apparently one of the attributes of the Peña genes.”

His dad was laughing, Javier’s cheeks heating.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, I’m sorry, baby, but Seb is married.”

“Damn.” She visibly deflated, shaking her head.

“No, he’s not,” Chucho piped up, both of them looking over at him. “He got divorced last year—that’s why he’s back here. He needed a change.”

“Bachelor number one is back in the game!” Cielito exclaimed. “Oh my god, okay, so what’s he like?”

He was loving her excitement, smiling when he said, “We can go find him, and you can see?” His face fell. “But I thought you said Robyn met a guy she was into…?”

“Well, yeah, but this is a Peña, and she hasn’t stopped bugging us about finding her one of your cousins.”

That was true.

Just about every time she saw Javier, she asked if any of his primos (cousins) over thirty had become available and if this would get her off his ass…

“Let’s go find him, Cielito.” He kissed her quickly, then grabbed his beer from between his legs, chugging the little bit that remained, her doing the same, the empty bottles getting set with the rest of the trash.

Groaning as he got up from the slight ache in his lower back and knees, he put his arms out to his wife—girlfriend once standing. He frowned, helping to pull her up onto her feet.

She smoothed her palms down her dress.

“Do I look okay?” she asked, checking herself for any wrinkles in the fabric.

“You look more than okay, hermosa (beautiful),” he answered, taking her hands into his and bringing them up to hold against his chest, their gazes meeting. “You’re fucking gorgeous, and I love that you got this dress for tonight—it’s perfect, and mi mamá would love it.”

The dress had been a surprise, and when she came out of their shared bathroom wearing it, he’d forgotten how to breathe—she looked beyond beautiful, and it dazed him, not believing she’d chosen him to spend the rest of her life with.

Basically, Javier found himself falling even more in love with her from all of the thought she’d put into honoring his mother—the dress, the food, and celebrating with his family. Head over heels wasn’t accurate to how he felt; he was completely head over ass, so gone on her, he’d do anything for her, anything, and that included protecting her, too. He’d die for her. He’d kill for her. She was the air he breathed and the blood that kept his heart pumping; she was his life and the most important person in the world to him, and she chose him.

“El tiene razón (He’s right),” his dad added. “Te ves bonita con ese vestido, Mija (You look beautiful in that dress, Mija).”

She shyly looked away from them. “Thank you,” she replied.

His hand went to her jaw, making her look at him as he smiled warmly.

“None of that,” he said, knowing she was doubting the truth of their words. “I’m being completely honest, Pop is, too, and I wish so fucking bad you could see how I see you.” His thumb stroked over her bottom lip. “How beautiful you are, how incredible—god, I love you so fucking much.”

His lips took the place of his thumb, his arm going behind her back to pull her into him, trying to make her feel the love he felt for her in his kiss—her fingers slid into the short-cropped hair on the back of his head, Javier shivering when she lovingly dragged her nails along his nape.

“Estos dos están pegados por completo, Antonia (These two are completely stuck together, Antonia),” he heard his dad say. “Tú verás que en cualquier momento, nos van hacer abuelos (You watch, any minute now they’re going to make us grandparents).”

Cielito snorted, breaking away from him, while Javier sighed, pressing his forehead to hers and rubbing his hands up and down her spine.

“Pop,” he groaned. “Me abochornas (You’re embarrassing me).”

“¿Digo la verdad y te abochorna (I tell the truth and it embarasses you)?” Chucho asked. He clicked his tongue, dramatically continuing, “Es la maldición de los padres (It’s the parental curse).”

Javier turned his head, finding his dad sitting there with a shit-eating grin under his cowboy hat and a hand over his chest.

He rolled his eyes, ready to go.

“Nos vamos ahora (We’re leaving now),” he said, taking his girlfriend’s hand. “Quédate aquí con mi mamá y cuéntale cómo sigues molestándonos para que te den nietos (Stay here with my mom and tell her about how you keep pestering us to give you grandchildren).”

“Oh, tu mamá sabe (Oh, your mom knows).” He waved away Javier’s words. “Hablando de mis futuros nietos, tambien un día disfrutarás avergonzándolos (Speaking of my future grandkids, one day you will also enjoy embarrassing them). ¿Sabes por qué (Do you know why)?”

“¿Por qué, Pop (Why, Pop)?”

“Porque serás un padre increíble como yo y amarás a tus hijos más que a nada (Because you will be an amazing father like me and love your kids more than anything).”

Javier’s breath caught in his throat.

Emotion had his voice going gravelly. “Espero ser un gran padre como tú (I hope I will be a great dad like you).”

“Sé que lo harás (I know you will). Te amo, Javiercito (I love you, Javier). Ahora, ve a ver al resto de la familia (Now, go see the rest of the family).”

“Está bien (Okay). Estaremos de vuelta pronto (We will be back soon).”

“No voy a irme a ninguna parte (I am not going anywhere).”

That was something Javier knew without a doubt and could always count on—both of his parents were there for him, and no matter the mistakes he’d made, it had never caused them to love him any less. On the rough days in Colombia, there was always the thought in the back of his mind to just give up and go home to them, knowing they would’ve welcomed him with open arms. He’d kept going, though, the ranch a last resort, and when he was sent back to Texas after he horribly fucked up, all his dad asked was when he needed to pick him up from the airport, there was no question that he was coming back to the house for however long he wanted to be there.

Chucho wasn’t going anywhere for the time being, and Javier knew that, planning to plant his roots in Laredo and grow his family here, wanting to stay as close as possible to his dad and the place where his mother was resting.

He nodded at his father, leading Cielito away.

“So,” she started. “Who’s all buried here?”

He slowed down to have them walking next to each other, their hands linked, glancing over at her through his sunglasses as he answered, “My mom and my paternal abuelos (grandparents). My mother’s family is back in Mexico—her parents and my tío (uncle) are still alive down there, but I haven’t seen them since, fuck, her funeral? They all moved back after she married my dad, and we’d visit them a few times a year when I was growing up.”

“Were your dad’s parents born in Mexico, too?”

He smiled. “Yeah, but they immigrated here before they started having kids.”

“Good to know. Have you thought about visiting your mom’s family?”

Frowning, he replied, “Maybe? Some of my uncle’s kids live here in the US, I’m just not sure where, and he visits my dad occasionally. It’d be nice to see my abuelos (grandparents)…”

They were probably in their early eighties by now.

She got closer to his side, hugging his arm to her as she looked him in the eyes with a smile.

“Well, maybe we’ll just have to go visit them.”

That had him sobering up and thinking about the job he’d been doing with the Sheriff.

In the months he worked for Sheriff Arturo, the narcotics unit had managed to seize almost double the drugs and weapons than the entire previous year combined—not to mention all of the arrests they made. It was so substantial the DEA had set up an in-person meeting with him for that Friday, when up to this point, they’ve only communicated by phone. The agent in charge of Rio Grande Valley was a real prick, and Javier had hung up on him more than once, so he really wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with the guy.

He kept his promise to Cielito about only doing office work, spending the majority of his time reading over arrest reports and seizures, writing up analyses, and creating strategies for the narcotics team to use. With all of the pages he read, he felt like there was something he was missing, some kind of connection that wasn’t making itself known amongst all of the letters and numbers his eyes had scanned over—it was starting to bother the fuck out of him that he wasn’t getting any closer to figuring out where the drugs were coming from than when he began looking.

“Maybe,” he said distractedly. Changing the subject, he continued, pointing ahead of them with his free hand, “Looks like tío Ángel is with my tías and tíos—Sebastián must be close by.”

His abuelos had a long, flat headstone that sat amongst the grass, with ‘Peña’ etched in the middle in large letters, and each of their names on either side where they were buried, along with their dates of birth and death.

The second time he’d come here with his wif-girlfriend, his dad had been with them and showed them where his grandparents were since Javier wasn’t stateside when they passed.

He was ashamed to admit it, but when they died, he’d put his work before his family like he always fucking did—so focused on taking down the Cali cartel he didn’t even think about using any bereavement leave to come home for either of their funerals that were only months apart. At the time, his secretary sent flowers to the family with his condolences like the cold-hearted bastard he was who didn’t even bother calling his tías or tío.

Looking back, he felt like shit for what his father must have gone through—in less than five years, Chucho lost his wife and both of his parents, his only son away on a completely different continent, barely remembering to pick up the phone for their monthly calls.

Javier was a real piece of shit then and deserved the dressing down his tías gave him when he’d come back for good. Now, he had his head on straight, understanding that his family was the most important thing in his life, and he wouldn’t waste any more time with them.

His grandparents’ resting place was decorated similarly to his mother’s: marigold blooms were bordering the gravestone and surrounding a large framed photo of his abuelos that was propped up behind it along with two large vases of the flowers resting on the upper two corners of the stone. Candles were also on the hard surface, a couple of votives, the others plain red-waxed, and in the grass were ornaments that were just paper skulls on sticks. His tías had put down a colorful rectangular platter that they had set a bottle of his abuelo’s (grandfather’s) favorite tequila, two cups full of something he wasn’t sure of, and two plates filled with food—chicken legs and thighs covered in his abuela’s (grandmother’s) mole (moh-lay), a sauce made from blackened, burnt chiles, chocolate, and other ingredients Javier couldn’t remember; There was also arroz rojo (red rice), frijoles (beans), and the tamales they made over the weekend.

His tías Lupita and Rebeca were sitting on a large dark blue striped picnic blanket with a couple of their grandkids who were maybe five or six, his aunts' husbands sitting nearby in camping chairs. Tía María was on the other side of them in a chair next to her husband, another blanket on the ground by them where their eldest son, Danny, was sitting with his wife and two kids—a four- and two-year-old, with another on the way. Everyone was eating except his tío Ángel who was standing and nursing a beer, his youngest son Diego, who was in his late-twenties, next to him, scooping food into his mouth from a paper plate while they all happily chatted between bites.

His tía María spotted them first.

“Javi está aquí y trajo a nuestra Chula (Javi’s here and he brought our Cutie).”

All of them looked in their direction with smiles and greetings as they approached.

“Hola (Hi),” he said.

“Hi!” Cielito greeted with a wave of her hand that wasn’t holding his.

“Come eat with us,” tía Lupita ordered, moving to make them plates.

He was pretty full from what they’d already eaten, sharing a look with his girlfriend, both knowing they’d have to eat some of it, unable to keep from sighing simultaneously.

Something you learned very quickly once being introduced to Javier’s extended family was you absolutely, under no circumstance, refused food you were offered—you’re not hungry? You’re full? You’re not sure it’s something you’ll like? It didn’t matter. You took what they gave you, thanked them, and ate as much as you could.

Knowing how much time and effort went into making their dishes made it make sense and was honestly great, so you happily accepted the flimsy paper plate loaded with food, and a plastic fork, thanking tía Lupita.

“How was the carne en su jugo?” Rebeca asked.

“Almost exactly like mi mamá’s,” Javi proudly answered, picking at the food on his plate like you were and taking small bites.

“Bueno (Good)!”

María addressed you, “You’ll come over next time we make our mamá’s mole, so you can learn.”

“I’d love that,” you replied with a smile. “I’m assuming that’s what this sauce is?” You got some chicken with the mole on your fork to hold up and put it in your mouth.

“Yes.” She nodded. “How do you like it?”

Answering after swallowing, “It’s very good.” It was a little spicy, a little sweet, and had an earthiness to it that wasn’t bad, and you had no clue what was in it, assuming chiles, for sure.

“The tamales are increíble (incredible),” Javier’s tío Ángel’s gruff voice said.

The first time you saw tío Ángel, you thought he wasn’t happy to meet you with how mad he looked. Turned out he just had the same grumpy resting face as Javi, which must make it genetic. His tío was actually really nice, even though he gave off ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes, and it made sense why the asshole horse at the ranch, Enrique, only let him ride him.

Javier’s tío hadn’t been at the tamalada since he was busy working on the ranch.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I just followed Antonia’s recipe as best I could.”

“Well, they turned out great.” He raised his beer to you.

“¿Dónde está Sebastián (Where’s Sebastián)?” Javi asked.

The rest of the group had gone back to talking amongst themselves.

“Está en la tumba de su abuelo con su madre, y su abuela (He is over at his grandfather’s grave with his mom, and grandma).” He pointed with his bottle in their direction.

“Sebastián llegó muy tarde (Sebastián arrived really late),” Diego said, disposing his empty plate into a black trash bag.

Diego had long hair like his dad, but where his dad kept his pulled back in a ponytail, Diego let his gorgeous black locks fall down to his shoulders—he also had a smile that was absolutely contagious and radiated happiness.

“¿Cuándo regresó a Laredo (When did he come back to Laredo)?” Javi inquired as he took a bite of some rice.

“Llegó aquí el jueves, pero se fue todo el fin de semana (He got here on Thursday but he was gone all weekend).”

“¿Regresó a Dallas (Did he go back to Dallas)?” Javi’s eyebrows were knitted together.

“No sé (I don’t know),” the younger man shrugged. “No nos dijo a dónde fue (He didn’t tell us where he went). El llegó tarde hoy y fresco de la ducha (He showed up late today and fresh from the shower).” A mischievous smile appeared on his face. “No creo que haya pasado el fin de semana solo (I don’t think he spent the weekend alone).”

“¡Ay!” Ángel said. “Deja de chismear sobre tu hermano (Quit gossiping about your brother).”

“Hey,” Diego replied, putting up his hands in defense. “Es bueno para él seguir adelante (It’s good for him to move on).”

That had you frowning, hoping he hadn’t met someone.

Your head turned toward Javi. “I’d really like to meet this mystery cousin now—please introduce him to me.”

His eyes met yours. “Yeah.” He nodded. “Okay.” Looking back at his tío Ángel, he pointed with his free hand in the direction his uncle said, “He’s over there?” he asked. “I haven’t seen him in a while. What’s he wearing?”

“Yes, over there—” He pointed with his beer again. “—and he’s wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. Right, Mijo?” he asked his son.

“Yes, papá (dad),” Diego answered.

“Okay,” you replied. “On the lookout for a hot Peña in a black shirt and jeans—let’s go, babe!” Holding your plate in one hand, your other grabbed Javi’s arm as you started pulling him where you needed to go.

Out of earshot of his family, you looked over your shoulder at him, “Hopefully he didn’t fall in love over the weekend. I wish we would’ve known there was an eligible Peña so we could’ve set him up with Robyn on a blind date or something.”

Javi snorted.

“You really think Robyn would agree to a blind date?”

You thought about it for a second.

“Yeah, I think she would, just for the fun of it.”

He slowed down, dragging his feet to make you finally stop walking.

“Cielito?”

Confusion was on your face as you turned toward him. “Yes, Javi?”

It looked like he was really choosing his words carefully.

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up that we’ll somehow get them together…” he said the sentence gently. “You said in the car Robyn met a guy she actually liked, and with my primo being divorced, we don’t know if he’s even looking for anyone—divorce can fuck people up.” He sighed. “What I’m trying to say is please don’t be upset if this doesn’t work out the way you want.”

“Oh.” It felt like your stomach dropped down to the ground. “You’re right—we can’t force people together. But—” You smiled. “—we can test the waters, you know? See where your cousin’s at post-divorce. Like, is he just going through rebounds? Has he sworn off women? Is he ready to date again? We’ll just see how he’s doing and go from there.”

He sighed, his eyes closing for a moment. “Okay, Cielito,” he replied, looking at you again. “We’ll test the waters.”

“Thank you!” you squealed, moving into his space and being careful of the plates you were both holding to give him a kiss. When you pulled away, you grabbed his hand. “Let’s go find this elusive Peña!” you said, making him walk with you again.

You were on the lookout as you passed other families around the graves of their loved ones and children playing with each other. The mood of the cemetery was upbeat and colorful from all of the marigolds and other decorations; some people including other flowers like purple orchids, pink carnations, white lilies, and chrysanthemums in various colors—music, laughter, talking, and children’s happy squeals could be heard as you continued walking down the row.

Your eyes locked on a guy heading your way that matched Sebastián’s description, the unsuspecting man holding a beer bottle.

Suddenly you stopped, Javi almost running into you.

“Is that him?” you asked, letting go of his hand to point ahead.

Your boyfriend’s eyes squinted. “Maybe…?”

“I know this isn’t the time or place, but maybe we should look into getting you everyday glasses—and you can’t be upset about me suggesting it because you know how horny your reading glasses make me, so like, I just wouldn’t leave you alone.”

You looked over at him to see he was frowning before it looked like he had a realization.

“That’s… a good idea, but mi amor?”

“Yes, my sexy, hunky man who I love more than anything?”

He snorted, his face getting close enough a shiver moved through you when his breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “You already don’t leave me alone, but I’m interested in seeing if the glasses really will make you wetter and needier for me—” His head moved abruptly, speaking louder, “¡Oye (Hey)! Seb!”

The other man’s attention landed on you both, a smile turning up on his lips as he started walking faster.

“¡Oye (Hey)! Primo!” he responded.

Sebastián Peña was a little shorter than Javier, with a very defined jaw and cleft chin, his dark brown hair curly and cropped short to his head, his eyes a striking color of green, and as you assumed, he was very handsome.

You could definitely see Robyn being into him.

You watched as your boyfriend moved around you to hug his cousin carefully while holding his plate.

“Hey, man,” Javi said when they separated. He patted Sebastián’s arm, smiling. “It’s been too long—did you get shorter?”

His cousin laughed, and he had a good smile like his little brother. “No, pendejo (No, asshole),” he replied. “How’ve you been, Javi? I didn’t see you here last year.”

“I, uh, had stuff going on, and I’m doing really fucking good. There’s someone I want you to meet.” He turned your way, grabbing your hand to pull you to stand next to him. "Primo, this is—“ He told him your name. “—y ella es mi esposa (and she is my wife).”

Your eyes rounded, Sebastián saying loudly, “¡¿Qué (What)?! Your wife?!”

The smile on your face was so big it made your cheeks hurt as Javi went red at realizing what he said, looking panicked.

“Girlfriend!” he quickly corrected. “Ella es mi novia (She is my girlfriend).”

“Actually,” you said, moving forward to hold out your free palm to Seb. “I’m his future wife—we’re basically pre-engaged, he’s just taking his sweet time to put a ring on it, and ‘wife’ is definitely a better descriptor than girlfriend.” You wrinkled your nose, Sebastián shaking your offered hand.

“Oh, okay,” he said, releasing your palm. “Yeah, I knew Javi had a, uh, partner, and it’s nice to finally meet you.” He had a warm smile. “Mi familia (my family) has talked a lot about you and your cooking, especially the pork tamales you make like tía Antonia.”

“Not as good,” you replied. “No one can top hers.”

“Stop that,” Javi said, and you looked over to see him giving you a grumpy look. “She’s being modest—her tamales are fucking amazing, primo. You’ll love them.”

“Well, enough about me,” you interjected. “So, Sebastián—”

“Call me Seb,” he interrupted, still smiling. “You’re family.”

That had you feeling warm.

Giving him the same look, you continued, “So, Seb, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living? When’s your birthday? Are you seeing anyone?”

“You a cop, too?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Just call me future Mrs. Detective Peña,” you answered with a wink. “But not really, I just don’t know anything about you, and I am beyond curious.”

He nodded, then took a drink of his beer.

“Firefighter,” he finally said when the bottle lowered. “October 27th, and I’m not answering the last question, but I’m sure you already heard I’m divorced.” There was a frown on his face.

“Yeah,” Javi replied, frowning, too. “Sorry to hear about that.” His arm went around your back to pull you into his side.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about—don’t want someone who can’t be faithful.” He took another swig of his drink.

“Oh, he’s definitely a Scorpio,” you said under your breath.

“Why do you say that?” Javi whispered to you.

“They’re super loyal,” you answered just as quietly. “And possessive—it’s why I know I’ve got nothing to worry about with you since it’s in your top three.”

He scoffed. “Didn’t need the fucking stars to tell you that.”

“They’re reassuring.” You spoke normally, “So, Seb, how was your weekend? Do anything titillating?”

He sputtered as he choked on his beer, going into a coughing fit.

“Shit!” You moved to pat on his back. “I am so sorry. You’re just as bad as your cousin. Sometimes I worry I’m gonna accidentally make Javi choke to death.”

Your boyfriend sighed, putting his hand on his hip and his weight to one side. “You always choose to say things that will get a reaction when I’m mid-drink, and I think you do it on purpose.”

“I do not! It’s just a coincidence.”

His eyebrow arched. “Uh-huh.”

“It is! Are you okay, Seb?”

“Yeah,” he wheezed. “My weekend was great,” he said, giving you a thumbs up.

Moving back to stand beside Javi, you decided to just cut straight to the chase. “Seb, here’s the deal. I heard you got divorced last year, and I’m trying to figure out if you’re even interested in dating again or if it’s more of a ‘fuck the pain away’ situation, which, honestly, either would work because I have this best friend who is amazing, and I think the two of you would get along swimmingly.”

“You barely know anything about me…” he pointed out.

“All I need to know is you’re a Scorpio and extremely compatible with my best friend, who’s a Leo.”

He looked at Javi. “What is she talking about…?”

“Astrology,” your boyfriend answered. “She likes that star shit, and some of it is pretty fucking accurate.”

Sebastián didn’t look convinced.

“Anyways,” you cut in. “I know this great girl I’d love to introduce you to.”

He grimaced. “I’m sorry, but I met someone.”

“Oh.”

“It’s… new, but I think there’s something between us.”

You forced a smile, trying not to let your disappointment show. Maybe Robyn wouldn’t mind a younger man like Diego to get that Peña she wants—he was an adorable guy, and you knew he was single.

“That’s great that you’re moving on from your ex,” you replied. “That’s a really big step. We know you’ve been super hush-hush about this mystery person, but do you want to tell us about them? We won’t say anything to the rest of your family if that’s what you wish—I just bet you’d love to talk about them since they’ve caught your attention.”

There was a visible change as his face went soft, knowing he was thinking about them.

“She’s perfect,” he said. “Beautiful, funny, not afraid to order me around, a fiery personality, you know?” He gestured to your boyfriend with the glass bottle he was holding.

“Oh, I know, and it’s great,” Javi replied, pulling you closer to kiss the side of your head, feeling like you were melting from the sweetness.

“Yeah, I can see that. This girl is small and feisty with the most gorgeous long hair and red lips. She’s mi...” he said a Spanish word you didn’t understand.

Your eyebrows furrowed, frowning.

“She’s his what?” you asked Javi, looking at him and finding his eyes wide and mouth gone slack, not understanding what would get that kind of reaction. Maybe it was like when Javi called you his wife or something, and that was what had him shook. Suddenly he was speaking rapid Spanish to his cousin, which you were having trouble keeping up with.

“What’s going on, babe?” you asked him.

He stopped talking, bringing up the hand he held his plate in to look at his silver wristwatch.

“Shit,” he said, meeting his cousin’s eyes again. “We gotta get back to Pop, but we’ll see you around.”

That was a dirty fucking lie, and now you were dying to know what in the world was going on.

His empty hand went to your back to usher you away, feeling confused and curious.

“Uh, nice to meet you, Seb!” you called back at him. “See you around!”

“It was nice to meet you, Prima (Cousin)!” he replied.

“What’s going on, Javier?” you hissed at your boyfriend, trying to keep up with his long, brisk strides.

“Hold on.” He turned you guys, heading for the cemetery entrance, him tossing his plate and yours in a trash can as you left the grounds toward the parking lot.

“Why are we out here?” you asked, him keeping you moving quickly.

He only stopped when you made it to his truck, the two of you standing by the driver's side door, him looking around to make sure the coast was clear.

Your gazes finally met as he said, “I’m sorry. I panicked.”

“About what…?”

“What he said.”

“What did he say?” A big smile appeared on his face looking pleased with himself, and he only looked like that when— “Oh my god.” Excitement bubbled up inside you. “You’ve got tea, spill—cuéntame el chisme (tell me the gossip),” you batted at his chest.

There was a chance he’d literally start vibrating; he looked so giddy.

“Baby, he said she’s his fucking petirrojito.”

Your eyes squinted. “I literally have no idea what that means? Is it something super romantic? Did he secretly get married over the weekend or something?”

“No, no—” He shook his head. “—petirrojo means robin..,” he said slowly.

With the -ito at the end, that’d make it—

“His little robin,” you gasped, your hand going to your mouth. “No fucking way, Javier. Maybe that’s just a cute endearment that’s purely coincidental–it can’t be what you’re suggesting, I’d know.”

“It is.” His dimple was showing he was smiling so big while he nodded enthusiastically.

No, you’d know if Robyn hooked up with one of Javi’s cousins. Unless she didn’t know. In all of the dirty details she spilled, she never once mentioned a name, but she was very descriptive of his looks, and now that you were thinking about it…

“Shut the fuck up,” you replied, your hand falling. “Are you positive? How can you be so sure?”

“I double-checked and had him tell me more about what she looks like, and it’s Robyn, Cielito. It’s fucking her.”

The way he was so excited had you smiling, still unbelievably stunned your best friend actually bagged a Peña without your help.

“More like he’s fucking her,” you said.

Your boyfriend’s face fell, paling at what you assumed was him remembering your conversation in the truck.

“No,” he said in a small voice.

“Sorry, babe.” You patted his cheek. “You know too much about your cousin’s very adventurous sex life—can’t believe they fucked in the back of his Ford Bronco in the bar parking lot.”

He made a disgusted face. “Don’t tell me that shit.”

Amusement was on her face, and he had no fucking idea what she’d say next.

Javier had been so excited about having what Cielito would call ‘hot gossip’ he’d wholly forgotten their talk on the way here.

Pop Rocks blow job.

He shuddered, grimacing at remembering.

“I mean,” she started, and all his attention went to her. “If they start dating, he’ll probably know too much about your very adventurous sex life.” She ended the sentence with a poke to his chest.

He crossed his arms in front of him while his eyebrows furrowed.

“Why...?”

Smiling, she answered, “‘Cause Robyn and I discuss, in pornographic detail, our sexual encounters—yes, she’s well aware you have a big dick, and I don’t want you to be mad. I just need someone I can brag to about the things you do to me.” That had his chest puffing up a little, making him smile. “Plus, we give each other pointers and ideas, which you’ve never complained about. I believe it was you—” She poked the tip of his nose. “—who had us get her a gift certificate to a spa after she convinced me to let you fuck my ass.”

The memories of that had his pants feeling tighter.

He nodded to himself. “Worth it,” he murmured.

She looked so beautiful standing in front of him wearing her pretty dress. He grabbed her waist to back her up against the truck.

Smiling, he told her, “I love you so fucking much.”

She matched his expression. “I love you so fucking much.”

“No.” He gently shook his head. “You don’t understand. I love you so fucking much—” He grabbed her palms in both of his and held them over his heart “—that I feel you here,” he said, pressing them into his chest. “That’s where you are—the place you live inside me, making my heart beat, or race, or thud. That’s you, giving me life. I love you so fucking much that you’re a part of me, and I’m a part of you, and this is our life now—fuck,” he sighed.

Tears were brimming in her eyes as she smiled. “It’s taking everything in you not to ask me to marry you right now, isn’t it?” she asked.

He huffed out a breath, his hands moving to hold her face. “Yeah,” he answered, not even surprised she knew. “I can’t do it without a ring, not after…” he trailed off, not wanting to say aloud his first proposal that he had hardly any choice in.

She made the cutest scrunched-up face. “Okay, yes, a ring is necessary, and honestly, I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“The whole wanting to go all out for the proposal because it’s your decision, you want to marry me, and want to propose in your own way, and that’s just really fucking sweet, Javi. Thank you for wanting to make it something special.” She kissed him, a relieved breath leaving him that he wasn’t expecting.

“I love this,” he said softly when he pulled back.

“What?”

“How happy you make me, how relaxed, how we have fun—I have so much fucking fun with you, and it feels like I can breathe. I love this, I love you, god, I love everything about you.”

“Good.” She slid her hands up his shirt-covered chest to his shoulders. “Because I really fucking love you and everything about you, and you’re just so fucking perfect—I need you to kiss me right now, or I’m—”

He didn’t let her finish the sentence, crushing his mouth to hers in a searing kiss, taking a step to have their bodies flush against each other as he eagerly licked into her mouth to tangle his tongue with hers.

He felt the vibrations of her moans, groaning when her fingers moved into his hair, getting his thigh between her legs.

It was like she inhabited every part of his being, feeling her in his heart, his soul, and along his skin like a sweet caress; She was everywhere within him, and he didn’t feel alone, knowing she was there with him always.

It was crazy how he found himself somehow loving her more after all that happened.

It felt like his future wife loved his mom with all she had done to show her respect and to honor her, making Javier feel like he might cry that they’d never get to meet. He knew without a doubt how much his mother would love her and approve of Cielito becoming her daughter-in-law, hell, she probably would’ve convinced him to propose by now.

The way his family had taken in his future wife told him he was choosing the right woman—his dad loving her from their first meeting was all the evidence he needed.

She was the one, the only one.

There was no one before her, and there would be no one after—she was it for him, and he was beyond happy about it.

“Javi,” she said between kisses.

“Hmm?” He nipped at her bottom lip.

Her mouth was on his again, her words muffled, “If you’re introducing me as your wife, are you gonna fuck me as your wife later?”

He smiled against her lips. “I already fuck you like my wife.”

She pulled on his hair to make him look at her seeing her delightfully smiling.

“I fucking knew something was different when there was suddenly an influx of face-to-face positions!” She started kissing all over his face, not even caring his sunglasses were in the way as she said amongst presses of her lips, “You adorably, romantic, sap. You’re the sweetest fucking future husband anyone could ever ask for, and I love you so fucking much.”

He was grinning, her placing a kiss on his dimple, then his lips, feeling so unbelievably happy he might burst.

“I love you, too,” he murmured into her mouth.

They would get this out of their system, then go rejoin his mom and dad, spending the evening together as the family they were—and maybe tomorrow, he’d go out to the ranch to pick up something his father was holding onto for him…

Prev - Next - Series Masterlist - Masterlist

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

Tagging: @theorganasolo @nicolethered @nessamc @vanemando15 @fiscinthirst @melancholyy-hill @hnt-escape @sherala007 @jadesabre83 @rainbeaubrightchild @blub-senpai @pedrohoe04 @theherothesavior @captain-creampuff @javiersjeans @zetasaturno99 @amb11 @lovedbyth3sun @siidereeus @marvelousmermaid @mrszdjarin @themarcusmoreno @ms-loverman-066 @star-wars-fan-2005 @kissing-stars @chloeinpink @notyourlovemonkey @unofficialavenger90 @fictionismyreality @sheetsof-lennon @damnyoupedro @katareyoudrilling @iamskyereads @enjoyourlattebitch @daddydindjarin @absurdthirst @kirsteng42 @littlemisspascal @athalien @thevoiceinyourheadx @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @girlofchaos @mswarriorbabe80 @theewokingdead @pedrostories @guess-my-next-obsession

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

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peachhcs · 5 months

Text

hughes!sister x will smith au ✰

→ samy hughes x will smith

or childhood best friends to lovers

→ mood board & masterlist

★ ☆ au background + timeline ★ ☆

they're family friends + have known each other since they were babies

they were always close, but they didn't start getting closer until will moved to michigan for his development program in summer of 2021 (also when samy met gabe, ryan, drew, etc.)

the guys don't believe will at first when he tells them he knows samy hughes & beg him to meet her (i assume she's fairly known because of her brothers)

samy and will grow a lot closer during those two years and by her senior year of high school and will's last year of ntdp they realize they may have feelings for one another after playing it off as a brother and sister relationship

will realizes his feelings in october when him and some of the guys see samy off for her senior homecoming

samy realizes her feelings a few months later in april when her and her friends decide to bring the guys to their prom since they don't get that experience

after prom, the two don't see one another for months because will is constantly traveling for hockey that whole summer, but they're still constantly texting and calling

they reunite at the draft in nashville! the entire hughes family is there supporting will

at the draft, samy and will realize that their relationship is changing

the confession doesn't come out until will's draft party that night

they're both nervous and afraid to ruin their friendship, so they deicide to give themselves a grace period where they can go on a few dates and see how it goes and if it goes horrible, nothing is ruined between them

obviously it goes well and they decide to start dating!

→ samy hughes:

samy (samantha) poppy hughes

younger sister to luke, jack, and quinn

she's very close with her brothers and they all have a two year age gap

birthday is january 17th, 2005!

she's 16 when will moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college about to be 19!

she played hockey growing up wanting to be like her brothers and was very good on the ice (still is)

switched to soccer full time sophomore year (10th grade) and now plays at the university of michigan

is roommates with dylan's (fake) younger sister, hannah which is a bit of full circle since luke was roommates with dylan at umich

luke's michigan friends love her and take her under their wing as their own little sister — especially ethan and mark

samy loves going to the yost for every home game as well as watching will's games on her computer whenever bc plays

even though she doesn't play hockey regularly anymore, she still loves the sport and will always have a special place in her heart for it

she becomes one of the best freshman on the soccer team her first year and helps lead the team to the ncaa finals for the first time in awhile. she wins her first national title her 2nd year!

our girl is ridiculously smart with a near 4.0 majoring in political science! will admires her so much how she can balance everything

she's about half a foot shorter than will and she always teased him when they were younger how taller she was before he had his growth spurt

she goes for earthy tones

she's very outgoing + extroverted + loves talking. she can and will talk will's ear off at any given time

will calls her "pretty girl" the most

→ will smith

younger brother to grace

they have a close relationship and will goes to her when he needs relationship advice (he did this a lot when he first realized he liked samy)

birthday is march 17th, 2005!

he's 16 when he moves to michigan for ntdp and is now 18 in college

he's been playing hockey since he could walk and would always play with quinn, jack, and luke when they were younger

he's now a forward at boston college and was drafted 4th overall for the san jose sharks

he's roommates with his best friend, gabe perreault

he loved going to samy's soccer games in high school and would always drag the guys with him and now he still loves watching her games online

he fell first and harder (gabe and ryan knew will liked her before will knew himself)

very much golden retriever energy

he's constantly calling and texting samy throughout the day to update her about his life at bc

will's a bit more introverted when it comes to new people he doesn't really know, so samy always does all the talking when they're together and he just enjoys sitting or standing beside her while smiling and nodding along

his clothes are her clothes whenever they're together, especially over the summers when they spend time together with their families

he likes neutral colors and doesn't wear bright ones unless samy picks out clothes for him or she suggests it (literally does whatever she says and the guys always tease him for it)

samy likes calling him "pretty boy" or "willie"

→ quick authors note:

hi! i'm joining the hockey bandwagon and writing my own au :) i know i sort of wrote a lot here, but i've got a lot of lore for these two and a lot of short blurbs written already to start publishing soon. i'm also open to requests for them and any of your own ideas too!! send things in & i hope you guys like this new au. p.s. i'm not an expert in hockey, but i'll try not to get anything wrong when writing, but bare with me :))

#will smith hockey #samy x will #boston college #uofmichigan #hughes!sister x will smith au #ice hockey #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes #samy hughes #will smith x oc #umich hockey #will smith imagine #bc hockey #boston college hockey

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laladellakang · 1 year

Text

partners (1/2) ♡

masterlist | wattpad

DETAILS: bold dialogue: english members: ot7, (individual scenes) nrk, psh, lhs, yjw word count: 5.1k add. della in dark blood/bite me

SUMMARY: behind the scenes of dark blood [revamp] hehe revamp like vampires 1/2 + slight continuation of burgundy lipstick on jungwon's part

NOTES: hi! i'm so sorry for being away for so long! i have an explanation here if you wanna see what's been happening BUT NOWW i've come back for this new special birthday + anniversary month chapter! this is basically the partners chapter but revised + more scenes. i was gonna just combine it w part two but it was hecka long and i hate extremely long chapters. oh yea and della's dance in bite me includes a girlie now (but still has a man) please let me know what you think by sending asks/commenting. i look forward to them while writing and they really make my day <3

Della's hand injury at the start of 2023 has caused an obvious shift within Enhypen's dynamics. The fear of another relapse has caused the members to grow increasingly protective and wary of the girl, doing everything they can to get the love of their life back. Displaying it through their constant supervision when Della is in the kitchen, to being assured that she has taken her antidepressants, to an overall improvement in communication to ensure that her negative thoughts don't boil over.

Fortunately, the slump went away faster than they anxiously expected. Following the tour and her plastic surgery, Della had regained her usual self just in time for her birthday and their two-year anniversary. As their bond grows stronger by the day, the eight found themselves back in their honeymoon phase— practically inseperable.

Then the time came for a comeback.

It would have been ten months since their last one, and the group ready to go back into their busy routine with barely any rest but at least looked cute while doing it. They were excited for the change, and even more thrilled to find out that the concept would be something sexy. However, when they were briefed about the potential couple choreography, all seven boys froze collectively.

"We have to see how this goes. This is uncharted territory for us, so we're not sure if it's the best idea," the creative director explained. "BTS' Jimin incorporated mixed dancers, and the response was pretty good. However, 'Like Crazy' wasn't a full-on couple dance, so it might be different this time."

Jungwon, who was sitting to the left of Della, immediately held her hand under the desk, while the other six stole glances in her direction. Their minds were mostly occupied with how their girlfriend would react, as opposed to fully sinking in what such concept would entail for them.

"You'll hear the song in a bit, but since the key point is about a man doting on the woman who turned him into a vampire, we are going to have Della be the killing part," another director continued. "You'll have slightly different lyrics from the boys and you'll have an overall more seductive look."

"Thank you," Della bowed in her seat. "Is it altered to be more feminine?" she asked.

"No, no. You'll be singing from the girl's perspective. So if we look at the next page—" the sound of papers flipping echoed through the room. "Here, for Della's part in the teaser, we're gonna have you bite an actor— of course, not literally," the director's comment made a few people snicker. "—and turn him into a vampire. So, essentially, you'll be singing to two people: the woman who turned you and the man that you turned."

"Ahh, understood," Della nodded calmly. "Thank you," she said once again before caressing the back of Jungwon's tense hand. She glanced over at the others to find most of them looking at their sheet with a hard gaze. She could additionally see Jake playing with the corner of his and hear Jay's foot tapping on the floor.

"Thank you for the question, now back to the previous page—" another round of paper-flipping. "Now given that backstory, Della's partner in this comeback will be the only male—" the comment made Ni-ki choke on the coffee he was sipping. "Are you alright?"

"Ye– yeah! My– apo– apologies." he said in between coughs, turning his body away from the table while Sunoo patted his back.

"Like we said, we don't know how this is gonna turn out. We're sort of taking a gamble by doing this type of concept, but it's certainly going to be different and memorable."

The car ride home was tense. The members made an effort to conceal their emotions in the office, but in the privacy of the car, they saw no need to do so, and thus, they didn't. Though the discussion had to wait until they reached the dorm, as they needed all seven boys to be there. Della, who already knew the reason behind the tension, just calmly played with her phone and hummed to their upcoming title track.

"You really like the song, huh?" Jay commented as he entered the combination to their dorm. Since they had freshly heard it, all Della kept doing was humming the tune and repeating the words 'just come kiss me and bite me',which only heightened the tension among the three boys in her car. She could have chosen any other parts of the song and instead went for that specific line.

"It's one of my favorites of ours. It's so good," Della stopped her humming to reply with a grin. "We're ho—"

"Group meeting!" Jungwon immediately called out.

"As expected," Della muttered to herself. The four new arrivals swiftly put their shoes away and made headed to the living room, where the other four were already waiting. "Hello—"

"Lala, how are you feeling?" Jungwon wasted no time in asking. The question that all seven boys have been meaning to ask for the past two hours.

"I feel great," she replied with a soft smile, sitting on the couch armrest. "The song's great! The concept's great! I really can't wait for it."

"Is there... anything you dislike about the concept?" Sunghoon asked with a suspicious tone.

"Honestly..." the boys all looking at her with curious, yet almost eager eyes. "I think it's our best concept yet. It really represents Enhypen," her words made them collectively sigh in relief. "Were you expecting me to hate it?"

"No, it's just— like..." Sunoo struggled to find the words to explain the situation. "We were worried about the couple concept thing. The couple dance plus all the acting."

"Why were you worried about that?" Della furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you expecting me to be jealous?"

"No!" the seven said simultaneously in different tones. "We were just worried." Della couldn't help but scoff and giggle at her boyfriends.

"You guys have gotten so used to being a group that you often say things in unison," she covered the bottom half of her face, unable to contain her giggles. "So cute!"

"Wait— Lala, stay focused— are you seriously, seriously fine with everything?" Sunoo placed a hand on her knee to grab her attention.

"I'm totally cool! I don't mind you guys dancing with girls at all!" Della said with wide eyes and a genuine tone. "Guys, I used to train in YG— dancing or acting with the opposite sex is nothing! It's all professional," the mention of her old company itself suddenly provided the answer to their question.

"But the concept is quite sexy. We won't just be dancing next to each other, it's gonna be a couple dance with hand touching, at least," Jake explained.

"Honey, have you seen groups like Winner and BigBang? With Riki still being a baby, I doubt any of the parts will be suggestive— the worst thing they can do is have you hold onto the dancer's waist or something," she gave the Aussie a knowing look. "This is the art of dancing! We're exploring new stuff that fourth gen hasn't done before!" her eyes shone with every word she spoke, clearly showing her enthusiasm for the concept.

"I mean... on top of that, we don't love the idea too," Sunghoon spoke up, trying to be gentle. "We— or at least I wouldn't want to dance with another girl, let alone seeing you dance with another guy," Heeseung and Jay pointed to him in agreement while the others nod.

"Aww, darling, it's all professional, I promise!" Della made her way to the Sunghoon and released his crossed arms. "I'm only dancing with him for a little bit! Barely half a minute, I'm sure," she linked her arm with his and stared up at him with puppy eyes.

"It still ain't fun," he muttered, gulping down at the sight of her.

"Della, it's not that we don't trust you or anything," Heeseung sighed. "You have guy friends, for Christ's sake, we really do trust you! It's just... it's just..."

"It just fucking sucks," Jay bluntly completed for him. "—and we really don't wanna do this couple dance thing either. We know it's gonna hurt you."

"I'm not hurt, honest!" Della straightened her posture and widened her eyes. "I mean, we can always try to reason with the team if you guys are rea—" her idea was immediately cut by a string of 'no's.

"Forget about us, we'll be fine!" the other six wanted to smack their maknae on the head for lying. No, they will certainly not be fine. "But you! We don't want to hurt you or anything!" at least his other point was correct.

"I'm not hurt! Look, guys—" Della sighed, sitting down in betweenn Ni-Ki and Jay on the sofa and held their hands. "I'm not gonna lie, I might get a little jealous, but just a little! I'm not gonna be 'hurt', I swear! Just this conversation alone is enough to assure me that you all are seriously the best boyfriends in the world," she said with utmost sincerity. "I have nothing to worry about and— I know it's easier said than done but so should you. I'm completely obsessed with you guys! I don't want anyone else"

"Well, there are seven of us," Jungwon blurted out without thought. "I'm sorry!" his eyes instantly filled with regret while his hand went up to cover his mouth. "I didn't mean it like that. That sounds so wrong, I'm sor—"

"It's okay, darling. I'm not offended," Della got up from her seat and ruffled his hair. "Plus, you're absolutely right! I have seven boyfriends, I don't need any more! Especially when you're all so perfect." she placed a kiss on Jungwon's cheek before heading towards the kitchen. The seven boys all looked at each other in flabbergast.

"Are you absolutely, positively certain you're okay with the couple thing?!" Jay called out.

"Absolutely! I trust you guys! Best boyfriends ever, I tell you!"

The boys eyed each other as the same thought crossed their minds; one that they could never say aloud. "She gets jealous and upset over fan ships with idols we barely (or never) even talk to, yet she seems completely fine when we act with a girl for the screen?"

When the day came to finally learn the choreography, the boys were evidently really tense. They didn't even bother to conceal it in hopes that they might magically cancel the idea due to lack of chemistry. Little did they know that that is what the company prefers; for them to not 'stray from Engenes' hearts.'

The overall lesson came out smoothly, with everyone remaining professional and focused at the task at hand. Yet that was also because Della had not even touched her male dance partner. That part would only come towards the end of the song, on the second chorus, as Della dances with a girl on the first half. It was easy for the boys to cast their jealousy aside, but it certainly wasn't when the man finally came along.

"Della, your partner, Ingyu, as you know," the choreographer introduced the two out of formality. "Ingyu, Della," both Della and Ingyu politely bowed, despite already knowing each other from earlier. "Do you think you can do the moves from memory?" the choreographer grinned at the girl.

"Maybe...? Hopefully?" Della nervously grinned back, causing both the choreographer and Ingyu to chuckle.

Everyone had practiced and (essentially) mastered the chorus dance, but Della needed to be taken aside to learn the part switch she has with her male partner. It was an entirely new set for her, whereas several of the members just had to change partners.

This also provided an opportunity for them to fully observe their girlfriend dancing with another man. How lucky were they to have their full attention on the session they dread the most.

"Let's see what you've got," the choreographer stepped back to observe. "Five, six, seven, eight— it's you and me in this world..." Della did a great job mirroring the moves. Although some details in her leg movements were missing, her upper body ones were practically all correct.

"Damn, we just had to have a break while they are doing their part," Jay mumbled to his fellow members. "If it had happened earlier, we would have had something to focus on. But now it's right up on our faces."

"They have great chemistry, don't they?" Heeseung scoffed with a sardonic smile. Their eyes followed as the choreographer instructed Della on how much she needed to bend, having her hold onto Ingyu for support. "Wow, such amazing chemistry," he sarcastically remarked.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I asked her about the chemistry between my partner and I?" Sunoo asked Heeseung, who replied with a shake of his head. "I asked her how she would feel if I had good dance chemistry with my partner, and she just said, 'That's great! You should switch partners if the dance chemistry isn't there.' Like, what the fuck?"

"Ahh, you mentioned that to me," Jungwon reminded him. "Della really isn't jealous—she even encouraged Sunoo-hyung to make eye contact," he pointed at Sunoo.

"Really?!" Jake's eyes widened. "Even in front of the cameras?!"

"Uh!" Jungwon and Sunoo nodded with wide eyes. "I think as long as everything remains professional, she's completely fine."

"Well can someone tell her that we're not completely fine?" Sunghoon really tried to not glare at the couple but it wasn't like he was the only one.

It took around fifteen minutes for Della to get all the moves down. While it wasn't long by any means, the boys felt like the session ran through a hour. Instead of making the most out of their break, they were using up their energy on the glares that they sent the couple's way.

Both the choreographer and Ingyu (and certainly Della) could feel the potential holes that were burning through the male dancer's skin, yet they decide to brush it off since it doesn't appear to affect Della's performance. They always knew that the Enha boys had a crush on the girl anyway.

The keyword was professional, and as long as everyone remains that then all should be well.

"Are you finish?" Sunghoon asked Della as she finally made her way over for her break.

"Yup," she gave a thumbs up. "Thankfully, it wasn't difficult."

While they were all feeling jealous, they knew that Della had done everything they asked of her and there was wasn't much she could do. So they resorted to the only outlet available for them to express their emotions; teasing and poking fun at her.

"Was it fun?" Sunoo playfully glared at her with a pout.

"Aish, it's all professional," she playfully pushed him.

"So it was fun?" Sunoo pestered further, causing Della to scoff and mutter a "no it wasn't."

"'It's all professional,' but you were fully leaning on his chest?" Jungwon teased as well.

"It was no different from you!" she protested with a point to him. "—with all of you! We maintained our distance and everything."

"Our distance was like this—" Jake opened his arms wide in exaggeration. "While your distance was like this," he demonstrated by getting very close to Jay.

"No, it wasn't!" Della stomped her feet repeatedly. "You guys are exaggerating!"

"In that case, show us how it was," Ni-ki stood up from the floor and got closer to Della. "Demonstrate with me," he smirked.

"Eyy!" the members teased, impressed by their maknae's smooth flirting. "Go on! Show us!"

"Aish, you seven," Della complained with a roll to her eyes but complied anyway. "It's you and me in this world..." she sang monotonously and lazily repeated the moves that she just learned.

"Wah! Look at the large gap when it's with me!" Ni-ki protested to his hyungs. "Wah... seriously..." he pinched his nose bridge and shook his head.

"What the—" Della's confusion was immediately cut off by the members simultaneously jestering her. Choruses of "wah Della!", "how could you do that?!" "with our maknae too!" and "can't believe you play favourites," ran through the circle, making whoever else in the room glance at them with an amused expression.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Riki, riki, what do you think of this? So everyone disappears out of the frame except for you," Della explained her vision, using her hands to mimic curtains opening. "All eyes are on you and then Sunghoon-oppa emerges!" her hand then dramatically raised as if she was Thanos. "Brave heart— pam, pam, pam!" she said Ni-ki's line while popping her chest. "Then you and Sunghoon-oppa couple dance on his part!" the pen in her hand dropped as if it was a microphone and she had just said something life changing.

"Couple dance?" Ni-ki raised an eyebrow. The two dancers were ecstatic when the choreographer had asked them to take part in the process. They have wanted this for so long and were finally given the responsibility of the pre-chorus and second verse. The pre-chorus practically screams Ni-ki's name so it was a no-brainer for the maknae to take the former.

They were experimenting together but didn't interfere with each other's section, simply situated in an empty practice room with snacks and their phones playing the recently recorded song. It almost reminded them of the time when they had their first kiss.

"Not literally, but like... a pair dance, y'know? Something like Given-Taken," Della grinned. "Then Heeseung-oppa emerges! Then I emerge! Then everyone gathers and emerges—"

"What is with you and people emerging?" Ni-ki laughed. He was feeling a little too happy to have his girlfriend all to himself whilst doing the activity they love the most (especially since said activity was recently ruined by the couple dance). It was evident in his clinginess and the shine in his eyes.

"It's the drama! The vampire! The darkness!" the younger could only laugh more, letting his head drop on his girlfriend's lap.

"I'm sure you know what suits the mood, and I think the emergence thing sounds great," Ni-ki can't help but hum when Della's fingers tangled themselves in his hair. "I'm doing something like this; come here and get some—" with his eyes still closed and basking in the soothing sensation, he brought his hands up to form the first part of his original dance. "Something with a cool vibe, y'know?"

「大好き」 Della smiled softly. 「まじ力のスタイル」 she got close to his face to place a sideways kiss on his lips. [daisuki: i love it, maji riki no sutairu: it's seriously riki's style]

「ありがとう」Ni-ki muttered out before closing the gap to deepen the kiss. [arigatou: thanks]

Della and her boyfriends wouldn't call herself a jealous person. However, what she definitely is, is an anxiety-filled, insecure person. Otherwise known as a jealous person.

But she's not envious! She simply overthinks that some girls just suit the boys better than her and that they deserve better. While she's not jealous of the boys acting with Park Jiwon for the trailer, she had to admit that she was a little nervous before the shoot.

'What if they look great together? Especially Sunghoon since he has a lot of scenes with her,' she recognises that she's overthinking it but she really can't prevent herself from doing so.

'Sunghoon and one of your close friends look great together, but they don't give off couple vibes,' she reminded herself. 'You look great with them too, Lala. Give yourself some credit, you bad bitch.'

With the help of her self-pep talk (and antidepressants), her nervousness subdued quick. It also didn't take long for it to completely wash away, resulting from Jiwon being a massive shipper of Enha as a group. It was evident in how she giggled to herself whenever Della and the boys did anything close to being couple-like.

Furthermore, she had caught Jiwon pouting to her manager, questioning; "Is that all we're getting? Della being disappointed in Sunghoon and they don't even hug?" or along those lines.

Needless to say, there was no reason for Della to feel jealous, and that almost annoyed Mister Park Sunghoon himself.

"You're seriously, seriously not jealous?" Sunghoon asked when they had a moment to themselves on set.

"No? Why would I be?" Della said with a borderline sassy tone. The boys have been walking around eggshells with Jiwon and have constantly asked the same questions to Della. A rotation between "are you sure?" "is it really okay?" "aren't you jealous?" and "are you feeling okay?" Although she appreciates the gesture and thinks it's incredibly sweet of them, she has gotten tired of saying the same things over and over again.

"Not even the slightest? Babe, the storyline literally includes me defending her more than yo—"

"And what are you gonna do if I said that I was?" she cut him off, moving closer to him with a low voice.

"I– I mean," he stuttered at the look on her face and sudden close proximity. Even after two years, there are still moments when he finds Della intimidating. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay—"

"And what are you gonna do if I said that I wasn't?" she practically repeated. "You want me to congratulate you?" an eyebrow was raised to challenge him further.

"No! That's not what I meant!" his eyes widened in panic. "I– I was just– a little—" he did have an reason, but the addition of Della's hand pushing his bangs to the side had distracted him from whatever it was he was trying to say.

"Why don't you relay this to the others as well, hm?" she then brushed her fingers on his cheekbones. "I am rarely ever jealous because, at the end of the day, when you act out those scenes or record our songs, I'm the one who's on your mind. You don't think of Jiwon, your dancers, or even Sooha or Engenes. You think of me," she lets out a smirk when he appeared to be in a daze.

"The lyrics that you sing in your songs? Those are all for me."

"I get to have a couple dance with you?!" Heeseung exclaimed when Della broke the news. "Sweet! Nice!"

She really couldn't help it. She just had to reveal to the guy that she sneaked in a tiny pair dance for the two of them. It wasn't much in her eyes but it's more than enough for Heeseung.

"You have to show me! Please!" Heeseung got up from his bed, ready to replicate whatever it was that Della came up with. "It's definitely gonna be the choreo, right?! Like they won't ask you to change it or anything?" Della couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable the older was. His eyes sparkled with eager and hope, incredibly ready to perform his girlfriend's arrangement in pride.

"Nope. Absolute free to do whatever I want," she grinned before standing up as well. "All you do is kneel..." she kneeled on the floor to demonstrate, with Heeseung following suit. "Then rise... walk... then this," what he had to do wasn't difficult at all, so he would definitely still be able to sing live. "That's it."

"And yours?" Della smiled and made her way behind him. It was a tight fit, but the two can definitely make it work with how simple the moves are.

"Go ahead."

"'Come to me, make it right,'" Heeseung could feel himself get even more excited when Della placed her hand under his chin. "'Please connect me again,' woah!" his eyes widened at her hands running down his arms.

"'Devour you,'" Della whispered, leaving goosebumps on his skin. Her face got close to his neck while her right hand mimicked a claw on his shoulder blade. Knowing Heeseung, this move should drive him insane.

"No fricking way," within a flash, Della was back onto the bed with Heeseung lips on the side of her neck. "Gosh, I love this vampire concept."

"Gosh, I hate this vampire concept," Heeseung rumbled under his breath.

"It was all fun and games until we realise what a vampire concept entails," Jake mumbled with crossed arms.

"Yeah, and it's whatever this shit is," Jay huffed, openly glaring at the unfolding scene without a care.

Della was in the midst of filming the scene where she wakes up and bites a passerby. For budget conveniences (since his face wouldn't be visible anyway), the actor was none other than her male backup dancer, Ingyu.

It seems that, although she had made her lack of jealousy clear, her reasons did not resonate with her men. Even when they implement her advice, they still felt that red, hot jealousy.

"If his face ain't even on the video, then can't one of us do it? Seriously..." Sunoo rolled his eyes to avoid looking at Della leaning into Ingyu's neck.

"I know right?" Jungwon and Jay briefly replied, shifting their eyes to the monitor and giving them a closer look at the scene.

"Oh my God!" the boys (with the exception of Sunoo, who was still avoiding the performance), held a shocked look when Della's pretend bite appeared very realistic.

The segment is definitely different from that of Jay's and Sunghoon's. With Della being the one to initiate the bite, the focus is on her face instead of the partner's. The audience could see her laziness-laced body with eyes holding a convincing hunger to them, making it look like she was an actual starved vampire. She looks incredibly alluring, all while looking at another man.

"Oh great, she's amazing at acting too," after a quick glance back, Sunoo let out another eye roll. "Does she always have to give it her all? She should've half assed it," he spat out.

"Sunoo-ya," Heeseung and Jungwon laughed while the other four snorted with grins on their faces.

"You're gonna get us in trouble with that language," Jay chuckled.

"I wasn't screaming it or anything— I'm just saying what you all are thinking," Sunoo shrugged innocently. "You three are way louder than me without even saying anything" he gestured to Heeseung, Jay and Jungwon, additionally giving them a pointed look. The others know they can't disagree, as the trio really placed their heart on their sleeves this time.

"I don't fucking get it. Any one of us could really act this scene, I swear," Jungwon huffed out with a sarcastic smile. He placed his hands in his pockets, turning his body around to avoid looking any further. "Seven boys and they went with someone else for fucking budget reasons when they don't need to pay us fuck all for that scene alone. It's like they're doing this on purpose just so his name is on the fucking credits and Engenes won't ship us or—"

"Woah, woah!" Heeseung and Jake cut him off from his tangent. Jay and Sunoo's eyes simply widened while Ni-ki and Sunghoon held him back as if he was going to fight.

"You need to have a talk with Della or something," Sunghoon pat his left shoulder in attempt to calm him down. On his right, the youngest did a similar gesture by massaging the tense area.

"Or your therapist..."

"A little birdie told me you need to let things out," fortunately, since Della's part was the last shoot of the day, Jungwon's sour mood did not interfere with their work. It also gave them the opportunity to talk in the fully private hotel room.

Jungwon only scoffed out, keeping his arms crossed as he sat on the bed. The man himself doesn't fully understand why he was so upset. The other boys had quickly calmed themselves— unbeknownst to him, it was because they saw how angry their leader was, yet he remained with a scowl for majority of the time.

"Who?" he avoided eye contact when he muttered, afraid to raise his voice at the girl.

"It doesn't even matter because I can tell with my eyes closed," Della mirrored his body language but remained standing before him and leaning on the desk behind her. She has always been nervous whenever any one of the boys are mad at her, but Jungwon is probably the most intimidating. His leader energy is incredible.

"I just don't understand why they need Ingyu to act when there are seven other men who can do it," he went straight to the point. "If his face isn't even showing then any one of us could've done it! Heck— even the director could use his own neck! They couldn't have one of us to do it?!" as he went on, his voice started to raise a little in passion.

Della only stood there with an occasional nod, listening to the tangent that the other members have already heard. He talked nonstop for a few minutes, leaving Della room to ponder through her words.

She noticed that he kept repeating points like 'any one of the members could do it,' 'the bite could've been even more realistic,' and 'why they would want you to imitate a bite on another man.' It all finally clicked to her when Jungwon said, "They scrapped the kiss mark for the jacket shoot and now this? They're definitely keeping us apart on purpose."

"Jungwonie?" she grinned mischievously, to which he stopped and replied with a hum. "You're so cute," she didn't give him much time to react, as she had already hovered above him to connect their lips.

"Wait, Lala—" the younger was certainly not complaining, but he wished that Della would say a bit more than that, especially after he went on and on.

"You want more neck kisses, don't you?" she grinned once again. "You felt special during the jacket shoot and want that again, right? And you're jealous because the concept was scrapped for you yet another man got it. Am I right?"

Jungwon blinked slowly, taking in the observation that the mind reader had made. He didn't even know that he was feeling that way but it all makes sense. His emotions weren't even specifically directed to Ingyu; it's towards a man who wasn't him. He would feel the same if the team had chosen any other member.

A rare occurrence for Jungwon, but definitely not impossible. As much as he loves his best friends and the relationship, he did originally want Della all to himself.

A giggle interrupted his train of thoughts, and when Della asked for a confirmation, all he could do was nod in embarrassment. She let out another giggle before closing the gap between them once again.

"Don't worry, Wonie. I'll give you a million neck kisses if that's what you want."

my writing style has evolved and i'm hating a lot of my old works so i'm going to edit + tweak them soon but i'm still keeping the old ones on wattpad just in case they're someone's comfort fics <3 n e ways i hope you enjoy because i hope my writing style has progressed instead of regressed

part two coming soon

taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [i have removed accs that i can't tag so please send me an ask/message to be in the tallest again]

#kang della #8th member of enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen ff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x oc #enhypen added member #enhypen eigth member #enhypen female addition #enhypen female member #enhypen oc #kpop added member #kpop oc #enhypen female oc #enhypen imagines #enhypen poly fic #enhypen poly

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neonghostlights · 7 months

Text

A/N: I am reposting this because I accidentally originally posted this at 6 am (;

Warnings: Death (Reader is dead and a ghost), loneliness (both reader and Eddie are very lonely), mention of dealing drugs

Wordcount: 1.1k

Series Masterlist

The Shortcut Chapter Two: The Wait

He took the same shortcut as last time, winding through the woods and avoiding the fallen branches and rotted roots that would trip him up like last time.

Last time meaning every night had come here since the first time he saw you, hoping to get a glimpse of you again.

It had been a month of coming to this cemetery almost every night just to leave disappointed again.

Tonight he felt different though. The moon was full again, just like the last time he had seen you. He felt charged, electrical. His skin buzzed and glittered like the moon was shining directly on him alone.

He had a good feeling, a theory that the moon being full helped him see you.

He hoped like hell that he was right.

The thought of possibly seeing you made him feel less alone. It didn’t help the overall creepiness of the woods, the way the branches reached and clawed at his jacket, and the way that he constantly looked over his shoulder at shadows that looked too human.

It was Halloween night, after all. The whole world was supposed to be creepy.

Eddie crossed the threshold into the cemetery, fighting the chill that rolled down his spine.

His feet picked up, following the riding cemetery drive that would lead him to where you were. He scanned the lot, searching for any type of movement.

He almost thought you wouldn’t be there, almost thought that you wouldn’t show until he happened to see you, smiling down at your headstone in front of you.

Eddie let out a sigh of relief, heart skipping a beat at the sight of your ethereal beauty shining in the moonlight.

You looked exactly the same as he last saw you a month ago, as if you had been frozen since he had last had the honor of laying eyes on you.

He was so screwed.

He wiped his hands on his jeans a few times before clearing his throat and making his way towards you. He hadn’t thought about what to say when he actually did see you, but he knew he definitely didn’t want to scare you off.

You spotted him before he had the chance to say anything, eyes landing startled on him, almost as if you had seen a ghost yourself.

Eddie waved, a short wave, before saying hello to you.

You stared at him for a moment longer before a smile crossed your features.

“Hi, Eddie Munson,” you said, cheerfully. Like you were happy to see him too.

Eddie reached you, standing on the other side of your grave. He wasn’t sure what to say now until he saw the way your eyes shone as you stared down at your grave with a smile.

“Do you like the roses? I wasn’t sure-”

“You did this?” You interrupted him, surprise evident in your face.

Eddie had shown up a few days ago and decided to give your grave a deep cleaning. He scrubbed the years worth of dirt and grime, your name now easier to read. The weeds surrounding the base all got pulled too. He got some little vases, stuck them in the ground beside your stone and put red roses in them. He wasn’t sure if you even liked roses, it wasn’t like he could ask you.

He learned a little bit about you then, like how you were born in 1933 and died in 1956. Besides your name, birthday, and date of death, there was no other information about you.

He thought about going to the library to see what he could find about you, but it felt like that would be cheating. He didn’t want to pry into your past. He wanted to hear it straight from you.

“Yeah, I did. I hope that’s okay,” Eddie admitted, suddenly feeling shy. Was cleaning your grave considered crossing a line?

“Eddie,” you sighed dreamily with a sweet smile, “this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

“I’m sure it’s not the nicest…” Eddie mumbled, kicking his feet a little.

You nodded. “Oh, it is. So, I take it that you figured it out?”

Now was Eddie’s turn to nod. “Yeah. I came back a week later and saw the name. At first I didn’t believe it but you did seem a little…”

“Dead?”

“I was gonna say ghostly,” Eddie corrected you with a laugh.

You shrugged, wringing your hands tightly in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked, walking around the headstone to be closer to you. He didn’t dare try to touch you, he kept his distance.

“I don’t think I’m very good at talking to people,” you said softly. “It has been a very long time…I think.”

“I think you’re doing a good job. How long do you think it's been since you…”

You looked up at him with a sad look. “Since I died? It’s okay, Eddie. You can say it. I’m not sure how long it's been. You’re dressed very differently so I’m assuming it’s been at least a little while.”

Eddie laughed at the way you described his clothing. He couldn’t blame you, it was the same way some adults described his clothing style as well.

“It’s 1986,” Eddie said, watching as the emotions crossed over your face.

Shock. Anger. Sadness.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie apologized softly as you stared back down at the headstone again.

“It’s not your fault,” you mumbled.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No. I think I want to be left alone,” you said, voice colder than it was before.

“But why?” Eddie asked, panicked, not ready for you this to be over. He didn’t know if he would ever see you again. How many times could you get away with having a conversation with a ghost before the universe caught up with you? “Don’t go. We can talk about something else.”

You shook your head, turning to walk between the headstones surrounding you until you disappeared into the night.

Eddie promised himself on the walk home that that wouldn’t be your goodbye. Next time the moon was full, he was coming back.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson series #eddie munson x ghost reader #eddie munson x ghost!reader

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julienbakerpls · 11 months

Text

Happy Birthday Part 1

Julien Baker/Reader

requests - "ok! i was thinking i’ve seen this concept before but like a fic where it’s like a tattoo/piercing shop au and julien works there and pierces reader’s nipples or does a tattoo for her and then asks her out afterwards? and maybe reader has lower pain tolerance and is nervous about it so julien comforts her?"

"need julien saying good girl…"

It was your birthday and you have been hyping yourself up for this for the last year and now you were really going to do it. You booked and prepaid the piercing parlor where you were going to get your nipples pierced. You'd wanted to do this forever but kept putting it off because of how scared you were, and also how much anxiety the thought of taking off your shirt in front of a stranger filled you with.

But it was officially your birthday, and you'd already told your best friend that you were doing this. And honestly she scared you enough that you now kinda had to go through with it.

Your appointment was at 12pm today and it was currently, you paused to check the clock in your car. 11:45am. Okay so it was now or never.

You slowly climbed out of your car, making your way to the shop door. The place had been advertised as a very queer friendly place and that was proven true when you walked in and saw all the pride flags hanging up.

You walked over to the woman behind the counter, she had short black hair, was wearing red lipstick and she was stunning.

"Hi, um I have an appointment at 12 for some piercings?" you asked, feeling anxious and overall too embarrassed to say that you were getting your nipples pierced. She smiled kindly at you and told you that the piercer would be with you in a few minutes.

You attempted to make yourself comfortable in the small lounge area, but failed miserably.

"Y/n?" a voice called, you looked up to see a woman covered in tattoos with big brown eyes smiling at you.

"Yeah, yes sorry." You answered walking over to her. You were surprised to be a few inches taller than her, considering you were usually considered short.

"Alright, if you'll follow me then." She spoke softly and turned around motioning for you to follow her. You took a deep breath before entering the small room after her.

"Okay so i'm just going to lock the door for your privacy, and we can get started. It looks like your getting both nipples pierced?" She asked, looking up from her paperwork.

"Um yes yeah." You stuttered still not fully over how attractive she was.

"Alrighty, oh and it says it's your birthday today, Happy birthday! I'm Julien, I realized I forgot to introduce myself earlier, sorry." She said, making her way over to you and smiling shyly. You felt your stomach swoop, at her big smile.

"Y/n, but you know that already." You spoke, face turning red. She laughed a little reaching back to tie her hair back into a bun. You weren't expecting the physical reaction your body had to that simple everyday action.

"Okay, so you can take off your shirt and bra whenever your ready.." Julien smiled, turning around to give you privacy, but then she seemed to think better about it and turning back around since she'd have to see you shirtless anyways.

You laughed at her actions, before pulling your shirt over your head and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You watched the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks, as she tried to get control of her features.

"Okay, so i'm just going to mark on both sides where the needle is going to go through okay?" Julien said using a toothpick with ink on it to mark both sides of your nipples.

"I have to get your nipples hard for me to be able to pierce them, this is completely not sexual or anything." Her face still slightly pink, but over all completely serious. She helped you lay down on the bench, moving so she was leaning over you. She tugged on your left nipple, her face completely focused on her task. You had to close your eyes, and try to calm yourself down, chanting over and over in your head that this was her job and not sexual in any way.

"Okay, take a deep breath in and release it when I tell you to okay?" Julien asked, smiling down at you. You nodded and she signaled for you to take a deep breath in, you felt the needle against your nipple.

"Breathe out for me." Julien said, you did as instructed, and she pushed the needle through your left nipple.

"Good girl." She spoke softly, screwing the piercing closed.

"Mmmmm fuuuuck." You groaned out, tears filling your eyes.

"Hey hey you did so good for me." Julien soothed you.

"That hurt so much more than I thought it would." You said in almost a whine, your pain tolerance being almost nonexistent.

"Okay one more, deep breath in..... and out." She said in a quiet but firm voice, pushing the needle through.

"Ow fuuuck" You cried, the tears falling from your eyes. Julien quickly grabbed a tissue for you, whipping under your eyes.

"You did so good, and it's over now!" She smiled down at you, moving to get a cotton swab to dab the blood away.

"It's over?" You asked, feeling anxious that you'd never be able to think of another reason to see her again.

"Yeah, you're all set. Just some ground rules, clean them twice a day until they're healed enough to stop getting those little crusts around them. Oh and don't let anyone suck on them or anything for at least 2 months." Julien said, patting your thigh.

"Oh okay, um do I like need to come back for you to check on them at all?" You asked hopefully.

"Not unless you want to, or think you might have an infection." she said with her back to you disposing of the used needles.

"And if I just want to see you.... specifically?" You asked hesitantly, putting your shirt back on. You watched as Julien froze, it was subtle but enough for you to notice and feel like you crossed a line.

"Unless you don't want that... it's fine, uh thank you for the piercings." You called out, swinging the door open and quickly making your way to the front desk to pay. You saw another client go back as soon as you made it to the lobby, sighing and pulling out your card to pay.

"Okay so the total is 150 with the cleaning spray, if you have any questions or concerns feel free to call us." The woman at the front desk smiled, handing you your bag as her phone dinged. She stopped what she was doing to read the message.

"Oh and um there's this bar, that's like right down the street called The Red Door, it's a super chill place to just go and have a few drinks. They also have live music... you should check it out... specifically on Friday nights." She smiled at you, as you started to make your way out the door.

"Yeah sure, Thank you!" You called over your shoulder, you were so anxious you could almost ignore the throbbing coming from your chest. As you climbed in your car you noticed that you left your favorite bra on the table in there, deciding it was now gone forever you started the car and drove home.

-Okay so part two will be better but i wanted to do a little time skip specifically 2 months... so the end is kinda angsty but i don't think y'all are ready for how smuty the next part will be... 🫣

#julien baker x reader #julien baker #phoebe bridgers #lucy dacus #boygenius

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

Aita for telling my mom not to invite grandma to my dead dad’s birthday dinner?

For context, my (19M) dad (44M) died in January of ‘24. He was a dick and I don’t miss him, but he was my mom (46F)’s husband and I’ve been there for her through the grieving process. Unfortunately, Mom’s mother (80F) has taken over my mom’s grief and has made it about her.

For what I mean, it’s that Grandma wouldn’t let my mom stand next to my dad as he was dying in the hospital bed from jaundice and cancer, was praying very loudly that her son-in-law would get better and putting her hands all over my dad’s chest, kept comparing what my dad was going through to how her 7th husband died back in ‘09 (also cancer but not the same), and overall was just obnoxious during the worst moment of my Mom’s life.

This isn’t a new thing for grandma to do. Grandma is just a dick. She’s openly racist against Asian people, she’s stupidly Homophobic (but not towards me because I’m family and I’m ber favoritr grandkid because I’m not afraid to talk smack about people who get on my nerves. barf.), and any achievement that my Mom receives, Grandma has a story about how she won something even better.

It has gotten worse when my Mom’s dad (85M) moved in with us for health reasons. Grandpa was Grandma’s 3rd husband and their marriage didn’t end amicably. Still, it’s been 40 years and Mom wants a relationship with her dad. Grandma HATES him. Constantly yelling at him for forgetting things when she comes over, brags about being there for us grandkids (I have two younger sisters) when we were little, and overall is just plain rude. My dad used to be able to just tell her to leave, but now that he’s gone, he can’t.

Well, last week would have been my dad’s 45th birthday. Mom wanted to celebrate by taking me and my youngest sister (the older sister just moved out for college and is across the country) to Dad’s favorite restaurant. As we were leaving, Mom was stressing very heavily about not inviting Grandma or Grandpa. She stressed about Grandpa because he often forgets to eat dinner and she stressed about Grandma because the old bitch has flamed my mom on Facebook for not being invited to events before, even though my mom knew that Grandma wouldn’t like those events (think late night soccer games, plays where I’m not a main role/has an 18+ theme, etc. stuff an old Christian woman who hates driving at night would hate)

I told Mom not to invite either grandparent and that the three of us (me, Mom, and little sister) should just go alone and enjoy some immediate family time. We did and we had a great time, talking with my little sister about her high school classes, talking shit about my mom’s coworkers, and me getting to infodump about Fallout because my mom just watched the tv show.

Towards the end of the night, my Mom gets a text from Grandma asking what we were up to for Dad’s birthday. I tell Mom not to answer and she doesn’t. Grandma then sends Mom a screenshot of the family Life360 map and starts sending walls off texts saying how hurt she is that she wasn’t invited, how neglected she is, how awful it is that she can’t spend time with the grandkids anymore, how Mom always prioritizes Grandpa over Grandma (he wasn’t even with us?) and shit like that. I take Mom’s phone and block Grandma for her since she’s sitting next to me, frozen and locked-up.

It’s been a week now and we haven’t spoken to Grandma. That’s fine by me, but I can see that my Mom is upset and regrets how the dinner went.

Here’s where I may be the asshole:

I was the one who said not to invite Grandma

I was the one who blocked Grandma

I butted my head into my Mom and Grandma’s relationship

Here’s why I think I’m not:

My mom has never been good at standing up for herself

My mom shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit while grieving her fucking husband of 22 years

Not everything is about Grandma. She inserts herself into everything needlessly

TL;DR: Dad died. Went to dinner with my mom and sister to celebrate his birthday. Grandma found out and bitched a fit that she wasn’t invited. I took mom’s phone and blocked her. Now mom is stressing about losing her relationship with grandma. Aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

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rhoorl · 7 months

Text

Delta Landscaping | Chapter 10: Tio Frankie

Series Summary: In this AU, the boys of Delta Force start a new business post-Colombia.

Series Masterlist | Chapter 10 A03 Link

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Word Count: 6.2k

Previously on As the Mule Falls: Melissa was a woman on a mission, uncovering some details on Cousin Joel. Did you catch that Frankie grew up with Benny and Will? Santiago had to face the guys and talk about his intentions with Melissa, which brought up some bad memories for Benny.

On This Episode: Frankie visits his sister and her family in Dallas. (Side note: Can I tell you how hard I had to resist to call this chapter Frankie Does Dallas? Ok, back to the show.) We learn a bit more about Frankie's past and get a healthy dose of Tio Frankie. Following the argument with Santiago, Benny makes a rash decision. And we get a Neighborhood Watch group chat.

Chapter Warning: TW: death - As we explore part of Frankie's backstory we learn that both his mother and father have passed, and what happened in the aftermath. Also a mention of infidelity and learning the paternity of a baby.

If you ever have questions about any of the content, please reach out. The last thing I want is for someone to have a negative reaction. Overall this is a happy, silly series but it is grounded in some reality.

*Cue the Real Housewives music and roll opening credits*

The ding of the seatbelt sign turning back on woke Frankie up from his nap. He was thankful to have gotten some rest on the flight after a bit of a frantic morning. He liked getting to the airport early with time to relax, but that didn't happen thanks to Santiago who was late picking him up from his early morning appointment. They then, of course, hit traffic, causing Frankie to have to run through the terminal to catch his flight.

As he looked out the window at the vast expanse of the Texan terrain, Frankie got a bit of a lump in his throat. Although they had been talking weekly and having regular FaceTime calls, he hadn’t seen his sister in person in well over a year. He wasn’t proud of the state he was in during that period of his life. He’ll never forget the sound of her voice when he called to tell her he missed his flight and wouldn’t be able to be there for Leia’s first birthday. Valeria wasn't mad, she was disappointed, which hurt him more. He wanted her to yell at him and tear him down, but she just seemed defeated. Without their father or Frankie there it was yet another reminder of how quickly her family had disintegrated.

After their mom Alejandra unexpectedly passed away, their father Felipe withdrew from everything. She was the love of his life and without her, he didn’t know how he could go on. They met in their early 20’s working at a hotel in San Antonio, shortly after Felipe arrived in the U.S. from Colombia. She was a housekeeper and he worked in maintenance. It was love at first sight and they quickly fell into a whirlwind romance. They got married and welcomed Frankie all within a year of meeting, with Valeria following two years later.

Frankie always wondered what would have happened to his father had he not had two kids to take care of. Most days, Felipe could barely move from the couch, leaving Frankie to assume much of the care for his little sister, who was only a toddler when Alejandra passed. Frankie doted on Valeria and she adored him.

After about a year, Felipe decided to relocate his now smaller family. He knew Frankie and Valeria deserved better and frankly, he needed the support too. He had to get out of San Antonio, a place where he was constantly reminded of Alejandra. The grocery store she always shopped at, the park where they took Frankie and Valeria, or the school where she worked. He saw everything through an Alejandra filter. Austin seemed like a good destination since he could be closer to his family, which he knew would be best for his children, and get a bit of a fresh start.

The Morales family of three ended up moving into a working-class neighborhood a couple of houses down from the Millers, a family with two boys around the same age as Frankie and Valeria. The Millers quickly adopted the Morales kids into their little family, giving them another place to stay after school when Felipe had to work late.

Speaking of work, Felipe bounced around to different jobs to make ends meet. In Colombia, he studied to be an engineer, but when he came to the U.S. he had to take whatever jobs he could find. He ended up as a jack of all trades, realizing there was a lot of value for someone who knew how to take things apart and put them back together. One Saturday, as the kids were playing in the backyard, Abel, Will and Benny’s father, asked Felipe if he wanted to work for his brother Sam’s contracting business. From then on, Felipe was a loyal worker, thankful to both Miller families for their friendship and providing the means for a steady income.

As the boys got older, Frankie tagged along on jobs during the summer with Will and Benny and their cousins Joel and Tommy. They all developed a close friendship and Felipe was thankful that the boys looked after Valeria too, not that she needed it. She was a firecracker from a young age, similar to her mother. There were so many times Felipe could see flashes of Alejandra in Valeria. At first, it made him sad, but with time he felt like it was a gift. That his wife was sending him little reminders.

Frankie always felt guilty for leaving home at 18. He had dreams of being a commercial airline pilot, but couldn’t afford it, so he decided to pursue the military instead. Sure, he would come home occasionally, but it was never quite the same. And the deeper he got into his Delta Force work, the more reclusive he became as he tried to reconcile all the things he bore witness to.

Frankie’s endless cycle of self-loathing was further fueled by the fact that his little sister thought the world of him and was his biggest cheerleader. He never understood how she could have such unwavering support and unconditional love for him despite all the ways he had disappointed her over the years, yet she remained a steady constant in his life no matter what.

Delta Force was ultimately the reason why he couldn't be there when his family needed him most. For months Felipe wanted to come out to Florida and see his son, but Frankie always found some excuse. It also didn't help that at the time things were especially tumultuous with Raquel, so he was in no state to see his father. Frankie promised himself that he’d call his dad after his next mission.

When he and the boys finally landed back on U.S. soil and he was able to turn his phone on, Frankie was inundated with messages and voicemails. He clicked on the most recent one from Valeria, well, actually it was Alyssa who spoke with a grim tone. She shared that Felipe had suffered a massive heart attack and passed away suddenly. Upon hearing that, Frankie collapsed in a heap on the tarmac.

He felt so many competing emotions. Sadness and grief over the loss of his father. Guilt because Valeria had to deal with it all while not knowing if Frankie was safe. Anger at Raquel for fucking him up so much in the head that he was robbed of the chance to see his father for the last time. He also felt like he let his father down and wasted so much time pushing him away.

The jolt of the plane’s wheels meeting the ground brought Frankie back to the present. As the plane taxied, he reflected on his session from this morning. He and his therapist talked about how this trip was a momentous occasion. It was the start of a new chapter in his relationship with Valeria and a chance to bond with his niece and nephew.

He flipped his phone off of airplane mode and saw a text come through from Valeria.

Valeria: Hope your flight goes well. Sorry but I can't pick you up. Trying to convince this asshole judge to give us this warrant. If it gets late Tim will cover, but meet me at my place. I have the rest of the week off …. Tim says you owe him a beer!

Valeria: Love you 🩷🐰

Frankie: All good. I'll get an Uber. Tell Tim I say hi.

Frankie: Love you too 🐰

Frankie smiled, his little sister as feisty as ever. She was equal parts smart and brave and always unapologetically herself. He was thankful to her partner in (fighting) crime and mentor, Tim. Although she didn't need protecting, it still gave Frankie peace of mind knowing Tim was looking after her in the field. He was also thankful they both moved off of the narcotics unit and onto white-collar crimes. On the home front, Frankie was equally thankful for Valeria’s partner in life. Alyssa was single-handedly the best thing to ever happen to her. Frankie held out a little hope that one day he'd find a love like theirs.

______________________

Benny, already dressed and ready for the gym, stood in his kitchen eating a bowl of cereal staring at his phone. He was expecting a call and hoped it would come before Will woke up. He waited and waited and of course, as soon as Will sauntered in to make his coffee, the phone rang.

Benny cleared his throat and answered, “Hey, Herb, how’s it going?” He was actively trying to avoid Will who now was looking squarely at his little brother. “Ha, yeah it’s been a while,” he paced around, listening to the man on the other end of the line. “Yup, yeah I can be ready. Where’s it at?” He drank the milk from his cereal bowl and put it in the sink. “Cool, yeah, wasn’t Omar one of Lights’ guys or something? Huh ok. How long ago did he make the switch over?” Benny could practically feel Will’s eyes boring into the back of his head. “Yeah, sounds good. Guess I gotta start training, huh? Ok, talk to you soon Herb.”

“What the fuck was that?” Will piped up as soon as Benny ended the call.

“Nothing,” Benny tried to walk around Will, but his brother stood his ground, squaring up and looking him in the eye.

“Didn’t sound like nothin’ Ben. What kinda shit are you getting yourself into, huh?”

Benny crossed his arms in front of his chest and threw his head back as he rolled his eyes. He was trying to avoid exactly what was happening now. With a big sigh, Benny responded, “Look, I…I was texting with Herb last night and he said he could get me a fight and before you freak the fuck out, it’s just a one-time thing. His friend has this guy who was some hot shot boxer up in New York City who’s switching things up and get his footing in the MMA world.”

“Sounds like Herb is setting you up to get your ass kicked. Ben, you got knocked out cold the last time. Do you really want to lose-”

“Hey! I didn’t lose that fight. Fucker used a 12-6 elbow and got his ass disqualified,” Benny scoffed.

“Ok, Benny. You’re right, I’m sorry,” Will gave him a tight smile, trying to pacify his brother before he got more riled up. “How soon?”

“Middle of August,” Benny responded flatly, already knowing what Will was going to say. “I know, I know. I’d love to have more time to prepare too but it’s fine. It’s gonna be fine, Will.”

Will sighed, knowing that it was a wasted effort to try and convince Benny since his mind was made up. As easygoing as Benny typically was, if he had his mind set on something there was no wavering. “How can I help?”

Benny was taken aback for a moment before a big smile came across his face.“There’s the spirit,” he slapped Will on the chest. “Maybe you can come to the gym with me, help spar? Once Fish gets back he can help too. I'm gonna have to do two a days at least. Can you run with me some days?”

“What about Connor?”

“I’ll still work out with him, but I’m gonna knock the kid out by accident if he tries to help me fight” Benny smirked. “I'm great at what I do, but it’s gonna take him all summer to put on some muscle.”

_______________________

Frankie took a deep breath as he stood at Valeria's doorstep. As he was about to ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Valeria practically threw herself at her brother, burying her face into his chest.

“Hola mi conejita,” he smiled, hugging her tightly, and lifting her off the ground. “Te extrañé.” He put her back down, seeing tears starting to fall as she pulled back to look at him. “Please don’t cry.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, cradled her head, and brought her back into his chest.

She sniffles, “Sorry, Paco. I just,” she pushed back and grabbed his face with both of her hands, stroking his stubble, “Fuck, I’m just so happy to see you!” She smiled through her tears and ushered him inside. “You look good, hermano. Better than good, you look amazing! I like the salt and pepper in your beard, it looks like dad’s.” She turned to face him, running her hands down his arms until she reached his hands, giving them a squeeze.

“Thanks,” he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as she walked him to her kitchen table to sit. “Feelin’ good too.”

“¿Quieres un cafecito?” She asked, heading over to the gigantic espresso machine in the corner of her kitchen counter. Alyssa's job as a top caterer in Dallas meant they had all of the fanciest appliances in their kitchen. Frankie nodded and she got to work. “How are the boys?”

“Good. They’re all good,” Frankie smirked. “Benny said to tell you Will says hi.”

“Ay dios mio, ese sinvergüenza,” she chuckles. “You know how many times I had to cover for his ass back in the day? The nerve to still give me shit about his brother,” She shook her head as she poured the coffees. “Y Santiago? Is he off traveling somewhere chasing after a woman?” She walked over and sat with Frankie.

“No, no he’s been home for a while. Trying to keep him out of trouble, but you know how he is. We've been spending a lot of time at Will and Benny's place,” he smiled, taking a sip. “Got a lot of nice neighbors, it’s been… nice.”

“How nice are the neighbors?” She raised an eyebrow, studying her brother who rolled his eyes.

“No, nothing like that. Not for me, at least. You should talk to Will though, he’s been extra…nice,” he smirked before taking another sip. “What time do you have to pick up the kids?”

Valeria looked at her phone to check the time. “Ah, we should probably leave in like half an hour. Well…ah sorry, I assumed you wanted to come. Do you want to come? We could surprise them! They think you aren't coming until later.”

“I'd love to,” Frankie’s eyes softened.

______________________

“You ok?” Connor asked as he took over the squat bar from Benny, who had been uncharacteristically quiet that morning.

“Hmm? Yeah, sorry man. I just ah…kinda did something without really thinking through it.”

“What’d ya do?” Connor grunted out between reps.

“I signed up for a fight.”

“You’re fighting again?” Connor finished his set and rested his arms on the bar as he caught his breath.

“Well, kinda I guess. Well, yeah, I am,” Benny sighed and readjusted his hat. “I don’t know what I was thinking… I dunno, I figured they’d moved on and there wasn’t gonna be a spot for me on the card, but…they took me seriously and found me a fight.”

“You're gonna win right?”

“I sure fuckin hope so,” Benny inhaled deeply. “Shit, my last few fights didn't end the best.”

“Do you know who you're fighting against?”

“Yeah, this guy Omar.”

“Well, Coach Ben always says that you can tell a lot about an opponent by watching film on them. You can pick up little ticks and tendencies. This guy have any fights you can watch?” Connor offered as he moved around to spot Benny on the bench press.

“That's a good point. I think I can find some stuff on him, he just recently got into MMA but he was a boxer too.” Benny finished his set and sat up on the bench, pulling his shirt up to wipe the sweat off of his brow. “Wanna help me train?”

“Me? You'd kick my ass in like two seconds. I don't think my mom’ll be too happy if I-”

“No, no not like that. I have Will and Fish to beat up on,” Benny winked. “No, I meant like with the video stuff. D’you think you could watch his fights with me?”

“I don't really watch MMA man, I'm more of a WWE kinda guy.”

“That's fine. It's probably good you aren't familiar with it now that I think of it, you'll pick up on shit I probably wouldn’t see.” Benny gave Connor an encouraging smile before knocking on his shoulder. “C'mon, you don't want me to get my ass handed to me do ya? You'll lose out on a training partner.”

Connor smiled, excited that he could finally help Benny with something. “Deal. When do we start?”

_____________________

On the way to pick up the kids, Valeria filled Frankie in on what each of them liked. Antonio was obsessed with Star Wars, especially after playing with some of his Tio Frankie’s old toys. Valeria found them when she went through her father's house before the estate sale. Leia, on the other hand, only had eyes for Minnie Mouse, a fact Frankie was thankful he knew beforehand so he could get her a birthday present.

Frankie tried to stave off his nerves on the drive. He wasn’t a stranger to the kids, thanks to FaceTime, but he still wondered how they’d react to him in person. It always made his heart melt to see Antonio’s face light up when Valeria passed him the phone to talk to Frankie. He'd show off all of his toys and talk a mile a minute about shows Frankie had never heard of. Leia was a bit on the shyer side, but Frankie was so enamored with his little niece. She reminded him so much of both his mother and Valeria when she was younger.

“Hey, they’re so excited to see you,” Valeria reached over to squeeze her brother’s arm. “I could barely get Antonio into his classroom today, he wanted me to take him to the airport to see his Tio,” she laughed.

Valeria parked and Frankie took a deep breath before getting out of the car. He took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair as he and Valeria made their way down the hallway to Leia’s classroom. He was oblivious to the fact that he turned heads as he walked by, but Valeria noticed; her powers of observation enhanced thanks to her day job. She smirked to herself and rolled her eyes. Her whole life all of her friends either had a crush on Frankie or one of his friends.

When they reached the classroom, Valeria knocked on the door and waved. Leia spotted her and ran to the door.

“Mommmaaa. Hi momma!” the toddler babbled. “Momma. Up!” She lifted her little arms up, wanting Valeria to pick her up.

“Hola mi niña, did you have a good day?” She asked the little girl, looking over to her teacher who smiled and nodded.

“She had a lot of fun today,” her teacher handed over Leia’s dinosaur lunchbox.

Leia wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and then her eyes locked with Frankie's, as he gave her a shy wave. He could see the wheels turning in the little girl’s head. She definitely recognized him, but it seemed like she was trying to figure out how.

“Hola mi princesa,” Frankie offered, pushing his hat up a little bit so she could see more of his face.

She paused for a moment before her face lit up, “Tio Fankee!” She wiggled in her mom’s arms, signaling she wanted to be put down and put down fast. She ran over to Frankie and wrapped her arms around his leg, drawing awws from parents passing by.

Frankie let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding in, his shoulders relaxing as he looked down at the little girl reaching her arms up. He scooped her up, planting a big kiss on her cheek which made her giggle as he tickled her.

Valeria looked on and felt a mix of emotions at the scene playing out. Her brother loved kids and always had a soft spot for them. She knew he would make the most amazing father, which is why the situation with Raquel still stung. Frankie had been over the moon to have a little one on the way only to have that ripped away. It took everything in Valeria to not fly to Tampa to beat Raquel's ass the day Frankie called to say that the baby wasn't his. She felt a rage she had never felt before, hearing her brother sound so low, so defeated. Little did she know the spiral that still awaited them both.

Even though that was in the past, she could still see the pain in Frankie’s eyes as he held Leia. She knew he was thinking about what it would be like to hold his own child. With Leia firmly perched on Frankie's hip, the trio walked down to Antonio’s room. He was sitting at a table, reading when his mom knocked on the door.

“Mamá! Is Tio Frankie here?!” The little boy quickly shuffled out of his seat, running over to the door ignoring his teacher’s pleas to walk instead of run.

Frankie hid on the other side of the door, giving Valeria a wink as he heard his nephew shuffle over. “Peek-a-boo!” Frankie popped out, surprising Antonio whose face went from fear to utter joy in about one second flat.

“Tio Frankie!!” The boy wrapped his arms around Frankie’s waist before Frankie bent down, Leia still clinging to him like a koala bear.

“You’re getting so big, pollito. You taking good care of your moms and sister?” The little boy nodded, wrapping his arms around Frankie’s neck. “Good job, I’m proud of you, buddy.”

“Tio Frankie?”

“What?”

“Why do you call me pollito?”

Frankie chuckled, looking up at Valeria who laughed and rolled her eyes. “Actually, your Tio Benny gave you that nickname when I sent him a photo of you in the hospital when you were born,” Frankie laughed.

Valeria shook her head. She vividly remembered how Benny’s first reaction at seeing a photo of Antonio was to say he looked like Chicken Little from the animated movie.

“C’mon, let's get home,” Valeria grabbed Antonio's things. “Mommy is gonna make Tio Frankie his favorite - breakfast for dinner!”

“I'm so happy you married a chef,” Frankie looked over his shoulder as he and the kids made their way down the hallway, Antonio talking a mile a minute about what he learned that day.

Valeria stood back a second to take in the view of her brother walking down the hall, holding Antonio's hand with Valeria still clinging to him. It was the most complete she'd felt in a long time.

__________________________

David: Liv, are you sure you don't need help for the party? I have a whole mood board going.

Ty: I'm sorry Liv. You know he can't be stopped once he gets going…

Olivia: Aww thanks D. But I don't know how much space we'll have. I just picked up some stuff from the Dollar Store, we should be fine. But if you all want to dress up, I won’t stop you! 😉

David: SAY LESS! Ty and I have the perfect costumes.

Ty: This is a child’s birthday party babe, not a circuit party. Don’t worry Liv, we’ll be appropriate.

Megan: Send the name of the rink over to Melissa, she'll find you the goddamn blueprints by the end of the day 🤣

Katie: Seriously, what she can uncover with a few uninterrupted hours is frightening

Melissa: oh stop it!! You weren't complaining when I was showing you what I found about Cousin Joel

David: 👀 I'm listening

Melissa sends a few photos from her folder titled Cousin Joel Discovery

Ty: Holy shit 🥵

Olivia: Oh hello Cousin Joel!! 🔥

Megan: Ty can you please do a welfare check on David

David: WHEN IS HE VISITING FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I NEED TO SEE THIS MAN IN PERSON

Ty: Megan and Kat, please do me a solid and give me fair warning if Cousin Joel ever comes to visit. I’ll need as much time as I can get to construct a Jurassic Park-level enclosure for David

David: you can't hold me back! I'll gnaw through it RAWR 🦖

Olivia:💀🤣

Lucille: He is very handsome. Although he looks a bit like trouble.

Katie: You think so?

David: I like trouble, love it actually.

Ty: 🤦🏽‍♂️

_____________________

“Tio Frankie, Tio Frankie! Can we play Star Wars? Who’s your favorite character? Which ship do you think is the coolest? I think the A-wing is the coolest. What color lightsaber would you choose? I like green like Luke. What about-”

“Ohhhh ok,” Valeria ushered the boy inside the house, Leia on her hip as Frankie dropped off the kid’s backpacks and made a beeline to Alyssa who was busy preparing dinner.

“Hola, Lyssa,” Frankie said as he kissed her cheek.

“Hey Frank, you look good hermanito!” She gave him an up and down.

“Hey babe!” Valeria shouted as she made her way down the hallway to change Leia’s diaper.

“I’m so glad you’re here Frank, she’s been so excited ever since you called,” Alyssa smiled as she pulled some biscuits from the oven.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” he leaned up against the kitchen counter. “This all smells amazing, thank you. I know the last thing you probably want to be doing is cooking after you do it all day,” he chuckled.

“Oh stop it! And not have a chance to hear you rant and rave over my cooking! I’ll take that any day! Besides, your sister is doing this low-carb thing so it gives me an excuse to make biscuits and gravy since we both like it,” she winked.

“Well, I’m glad to be your conspirator…as usual.”

Antonio came crashing into the kitchen with a plastic bin of toys. “Tio Frankie! Can we play? Pleeeeease!”

Frankie could not resist his nephew’s little face, looking to Alyssa for confirmation.

“I have about 10 minutes until dinner is ready. If you eat all of it and Tio Frankie isn’t too tired then you guys can play after dinner.”

“Yeesssss!” Antonio jumped up and down and headed to the living room to take all of his toys out.

“Oh shoot, wait, I have something,” Frankie stopped and opened up his suitcase, taking out two bags. “Pollito, come here,” he smiled as the little boy bounded over.

“But, it’s not my birthday Tio Frankie, it’s Leia’s at the end of the week. Mamá and Mommy are taking us to the aquarium.”

“I know, but I wanted to get you a surprise too. Here open it,” Frankie handed over a plain green bag just as Valeria walked back in with Leia.

“What do you say?” Valeria raised her eyebrows and gave that mom look her son knew quite well.

“Gracias Tio Frankie.” The little boy put the bag on the ground and reached in, pulling out a Lego helicopter set. The biggest smile came across his face as he turned the box over to read it. “This is so cool!”

“You know that Tio Frankie can fly one of those, right?” Alyssa called over her shoulder.

“You can fly? Like Luke Skywalker?!”

“Ha, well, my ships aren’t as cool as Luke’s but yeah, I can fly a bunch of stuff.”

The little boy looked in awe at his uncle. “Woooow that’s so cool.”

“Maybe one day, you all can come to Florida and I’ll take you all up in a helicopter,” he smiled.

“I’m good to stay on the ground with the baby,” Alyssa called over. “One and done for me, no offense Frank.”

Frankie shook his head, remembering the time he took his sister and her new girlfriend up in a helicopter. It was then he really knew Alyssa loved Valeria because she tried to overcome a fear of flying just to impress her.

“That would be so fun! Mamá can we do that?! Can we do that pleeease!!!” Antonio jumped up and down.

“Si, mijo, we’ll go visit Tio Frankie. And guess what? We’ll get to see Tio Santi, Tio Will, and Tio Benny too! They haven’t seen you in a while and I know they’re probably so excited to see you,” Valeria ruffled her son’s hair.

“Maybe after dinner, we can try putting this together?” Frankie held up the box just as Leia walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his legs. “Hola princesa, c’mere!” He picked her up and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Frankie kissed her on the forehead and brought her in for a hug, his eyes getting misty.

“Dinner’s ready! Let me get the kid’s plates together and you two help yourselves.”

_______________________

Will finished loading the dishwasher and sat down on his couch with a beer to watch whatever game was on TV. He felt a bit off all day, still processing that his little brother was going to need to be in fighting shape in 47 days.

Benny was impulsive in his decision to reach out to Herb. Will knew Benny would rather step into an octagon than face his feelings and talk. He wished Frankie was there, he always seemed to be a bit of a Benny whisperer. But since Frankie was on his trip, Joel was with Sarah, and Santiago was on a date, Will stared at his phone before deciding who to text.

Will: Hope you had a good day

He took a deep breath, resting the phone against his temple, feeling his phone vibrate not too long after.

Katie: It was a Monday 😕 How was yours? Did you drive anyone to get M&Ms today?

Will: Ha, no Mr. Jacobs didn’t have a sweet tooth today. Just wanted to get some deodorant and his meds.

Katie: Lol

Katie: How’s Benny?

Will: Fine. This morning I found out that he’s signed himself up for a fight.

Katie: Oh. How do you feel about that?

Will: Eh, I don’t know. It makes me nervous. I don’t want to see the kid get hurt.

Katie: You’re a good big brother 💗

Katie: But you’ve said he’s really talented, right? So he should be fine?

Will: Yeah. I don’t want to put pressure on him, but he should be ok. Especially once we get started training.

Katie: Buuut…

Will: He’s doing this because he doesn’t want to deal with stuff and this is the only way he knows how to process shit. I wish he’d just talk to someone, it doesn’t even have to be me.

Katie: Oh. I’m sorry. He sounds a lot like one of my brothers actually.

Will: Yeah?

Katie: Yeah. Nate was like that for a long time.

Will: What changed?

Katie: He found his girlfriend. I’m shocked every day that he found someone to put up with him!

Will: Ha, well, I feel like he’s going to be so focused on this fight that anything like that will be the last thing on his mind.

Katie: I understand that.

Katie: Hey, you guys are still planning on going to the twins’ party on Saturday right?

Will: Yeah. You actually reminded me I need to go get a present from Ben and I

Katie: Maybe we can go to the store after work on Wednesday? Then come back to my place. I’ll wrap it for you 🙂

Will: Sounds like a plan

________________________

“That was so good Alyssa, thank you,” Frankie got up and started to collect everyone’s dishes.

“You’re welcome and you stop that right now and go to the living room to play with your nephew,” Alyssa winked at him as she grabbed the plates out of his hands.

“Tio Frankie, Tio Frankie! Can we play? Mommy said we could play after dinner, and it’s after dinner and I ate all of my food.”

“Let’s go,” Frankie ruffled the boy’s curls.

Valeria helped Alyssa clear the table and gave her wife a kiss before swooping up Leia and walking over to the living room.

Frankie helped Antonio put together the helicopter, telling the little boy about the different parts and what they do. They had fun playing, Leia making her way into her uncle’s lap to observe.

“Oh, can I give Leia her birthday present?” Frankie looked up at his sister, now sitting on the couch with a glass of wine observing.

“Tio Frankie, her birthday isn’t today.” Antonio reminded him.

“It’s ok, mijo. Besides, Tio Frankie won’t be here for her birthday,” she smiled at the boy. “Yeah, Paco, let me go get it.”

She came back with a little pink bag stuffed with white tissue paper and handed it to Frankie.

“Here you go princesa. This is for you,” he set the bag on the ground in front of his niece. She studied it for a moment and then looked back up at Frankie with her big brown eyes. “Go ahead, mira, you just take the tissue paper out. He grabbed her little hand and helped guide one of the pieces of tissue paper out.

She smiled and then attacked the rest of it before pulling out a stuffed Minnie Mouse toy. The Minnie Mouse was dressed in a pink dress with white polka dots, a matching bow, and pink shoes.

Leia let out a big gasp and brought the toy in for a big hug. “Momma, Min Mou!” she babbled.

“Aw, wow! How nice, Tio Frankie got you a Minnie Mouse! Que linda! What do you say?”

“Ank ooo Tio Fankee!” Leia managed with a big smile on her face before wrapping her little arms around Frankie’s neck.

“You’re welcome,” Frankie whispered, giving the little girl a kiss on the top of her head.

Alyssa finished up cleaning and came over to tell the kids it was bath time which started a bit of a meltdown from both of them since they wanted to spend more time with Frankie. With some coaxing, and a promise Frankie would read them both a story, they were off to the bathroom with Alyssa as Frankie sat up on the couch with his sister.

“It’s exhausting isn’t it,” she smirked.

Frankie leaned all the way back on the couch, the back of his head resting on the back of the couch. “Ha yea, but they’re awesome, conejita. I’m glad they seem to like me.”

“Like you?! They love you, Paco,” she leaned over giving his arm a comforting squeeze, making Frankie smile. “D-do you ever think about having some of your own?”

He nodded, his eyes cast downward with a tight smile.

“So I have to ask because I’m your sister, but… are you seeing anyone?”

“Ha, no. Honestly, I’m not really looking for anything. It’s been good to just kinda…I dunno focus on me, you know? I’m at peace with where things are.”

“I’m so proud of you,” she patted his knee. “Hey, I was going to send this to you, but since you’re here, I figured I could give it to you.” She got up from the couch and walked into her office to grab a small box.

“What? You didn’t have to get me anything,” he furrowed his brows as he took the box from her.

“I know, but, I want you to have this. Open it.”

Frankie took the box, undid the bow, and opened up the lid and he instantly felt tears welling up in his eyes. In the box was his father’s watch, a gift the Millers got him when he retired. Frankie didn’t have much of his father or mother’s possessions, so this was truly special.

“He wanted you to have it. I found a box of stuff in his room and there were some notes in there about what went to who,” Valeria told him as she rubbed Frankie’s back.

He brought the heels of his hands up to his eyes, rubbing them before looking over at her. “Thanks, this is awesome.”

They sat together as Frankie composed himself before Valeria finally broke the silence, “I have some other stuff too, mostly photos if you want to go through them tomorrow. I also have some jewelry, like Mom’s ring if you want it.”

Frankie tilted his head down and raised his eyebrow, “and why would I need that?”

“I’m just saying! If you ever need it, I have it. And I think you’ll be asking for it soon.”

Frankie chuckled, shaking his head, “what do you mean?”

“I just…I had a dream that you met someone soon,” she smiled.

From a young age, Valeria thought she had a gift. So many times she felt like her dreams predicted the future. She had a dream the week before she met Alyssa that she was going to find her soulmate. Nearly every time Frankie was off on a mission, she would have a dream that he would return safely. And she, unfortunately, had a dream that Frankie and Raquel were not going to last, but she didn’t dare tell him that.

“What kind of brujería are you on now?” Frankie chuckled. He was skeptical when it came to his sister’s dreams, always thinking the outcomes were more a matter of coincidence rather than fate.

She started to laugh as Alyssa came back in, to let them know Antonio requested Frankie read a book about the Star Wars ships for his bedtime story.

“Good luck and don’t let him ask you too many questions,” Valeria winked as Frankie got up and made his way to Antonio’s room.

Next chapter

Next week on As the Mule Falls: Frankie returns home to Tampa. Olivia's twins have their birthday party *cue a montage of Benny skating backward and racing Will around the rink, David still sneaking in his Stanley cup, Frankie checking his phone, Santiago avoiding Melissa, and some fun Star Wars decorations*

A/N: To my Frankie fans, I hope you liked getting a little more of a spotlight on our favorite pilot. His story is just now starting to pick up. Speaking of, here's a shameless plug … have you read my Frankie one-shot Turbulence? If you haven't, consider it your homework before the next installment. How do we feel about Benny? Dipping into bad habits or is he just working through things in his own way?

Thank you so much for being here and reading. I hope you are enjoying this ride! I love reading your comments and reblogs, they seriously make my day!

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