#plus like.....Javi's friend

[falcapsupremacy]

Yellowjackets season 2 finale spoilers but

😭 I think it would be so funny and valid of him to go "I'm probably gonna die in my cave I'm taking y'all down with me you unhinged cannibals" but my theory is genuinely that he didn't do it because he's a wimpy loser (so so affectionate) and it'd set up Nat as the new leader/set up another line for them to cross: they allowed Javi to die but didn't actively kill him but if they kill Ben, especially if he didn't do it? Now they're one step closer to unhinged pilot cult.

[bobgasm]

awards season | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader [admiral!bob] word count: 6129 warnings: smut, nsfw [18+ only], dom/sub elements, praise kink, superior/insubordinate, power play dynamics, panty stuffing, buttplugs, reader gets tied up, lush vibrating egg, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, spanking as a punishment, choking, breeding kink, inaccurate naval knowledge, unprotected p in v sex, strip tease,

summary: in which you and bob have a private arrangement going on, but you can’t resist him at the navy’s awards and promotion ceremonies

author’s note: basically a follow up part of the snappening but is also a standalone. @attapullman don’t kill me for this. happy IBFF month everyone 🥳

oneshot | masterlist 

You were dressed to the nines. A gorgeous, expensive dress had been delivered to your apartment, courtesy of Natasha. She’d asked you to be her plus one to the Navy Honour’s ceremony, and who were you to say no? Javy and Bob were going to be there, obviously, but given the nature of your professional relationships to them, you all decided it was best if you went separately.

Tonight was technically your first public outing with Bob. You’d been on a couple of small dates, usually dinner at his place that wound up with you spending the night. But tonight you’d be seeing him outside of the small bubble the two of you had been living in. You wanted to look your best, and make it a night he’d never forget.

And you knew just the way to do that.

Natasha had done your makeup and the two of you had done a few shots while getting ready. She was dressed in her Navy blues, just like you knew Javy and Bob would be. 

Your dress was a red backless number and you had tape pretty much covering your chest to provide an easy no-bra look. Natasha had wolf-whistled when she’d seen you and you’d tried to adjust the neckline of the dress so it wasn’t sitting so low. You felt self-conscious.

Now you were arriving, walking arm in arm with Natasha as she spoke to various Captains and Admirals. You were polite, greeting them warmly.

“And who’s your date tonight?” Natasha was asked.

“This is my friend, Y/N,” she explained. 

You were sat at a table with Cyclone who continued to eye you throughout the night. Also at the table were a couple WSO’s who were prominent in their field, but you were more concerned with the fact that Bob and Javy sat at the next table over. 

“You look so fucking good tonight,” Bob told you later in the evening. 

He’d slipped into the empty seat beside you while Natasha was in the bathroom and the rest of your table had dispersed to speak with other people in attendance.

“Good,” you said smugly. “I wore it with the intent you’d have more fun removing it.” He chuckled and shot a look over his shoulder. “Where’s Coyote gone?”

“Probably to say the same corny shit to Phoenix.”

You laughed and reached for your glass of wine, taking a sip. “Your place or mine tonight?”

“Yours is closer,” he mused, leaning back in his seat. The length of his thigh pressed up against yours. It was as much physical contact as he was going to show in public, and you understood why. “Don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

“Just tonight or in general?”

“Tonight,” he clarified. “You look so fucking good.”

You laughed again. “You’ve already said that.”

“I’m a little drunk, whatever,” he dismissed, shifting in his seat.

“How much longer do you want to stay?” You asked him, hooking your ankle behind his leg running the top of your foot up and down his calf.

He reached for your glass of wine and finished it. “I’m good to leave when you are.”

“I’ll just send Natasha a text,” you replied, grabbing your phone from your clutch to send them a text. The chances that she’d already left with Javy were slim, but never zero.

Bob and I are leaving. Recommend going to Javy’s tonight x

You tucked your phone away and gave him a look. “I’ll meet you at my place?”

He nodded and watched you quickly leave. You assumed he ordered himself an Uber, you just weren’t expecting it to be a ride-share and have him slide in the back of the car beside you.

“Same place?” The driver noted.

“Yeah,” Bob agreed, hand resting on your thigh just above your knee. The driver looked back at the two of you in the mirror before pulling into traffic, not saying another word. You were grateful for it.

Bob’s hand slowly inched higher the longer the drive took. You placed your hand on top of his to stop it from going any higher. He was who he was, and the driver kept looking in the rearview mirror. If anything was going to happen, it was once you were in the privacy of your apartment.

That you now shared with Natasha.

The two of you had decided to upgrade from your small, Navy issued apartments a few years ago. It meant you could have Bob and Javy over without any issues popping up, but the building you’d moved to was less Naval Officers and more public friendly. That had been deliberate. 

Bob had been over a handful of times, though you usually went to his place. He liked to take his time, make you scream, and though Natasha wouldn’t give you too much shit for it, he didn’t like an audience. You understood perfectly, because you weren’t really a fan of an audience either. So anytime he came over, it was usually for cuddles and sleep. 

By the time you got home, Bob was pulling you in for a searing kiss. He was aching to touch you, be near you. You hadn’t even managed to unlock the door before he backed you into it. Hands gripping your waist and his mouth on yours.

“Bob,” you whined, tugging at his hair. 

He groaned, reaching for the keys in your hand and making quick work of unlocking the door. You grinned as you pulled him inside. He kicked the door shut and then his hands were on you again. Hiking up the dress, hands gripping your thighs as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

You gasped, feeling his erection pressed against your core.

“See what you do to me?” He asked, roughly groping your ass as he carried you into the bedroom. “Drives me so fucking crazy not being able to touch you. Kiss you. Having to watch men flirt with you all night and not be able to make a scene.”

“They’re not you,” you reminded him. “They don’t get to see me the way you do. Who cares if they flirt? You’re the one who has me in his bed nearly every night.”

He hummed as you kissed him, savouring the feeling of his mouth on yours. The taste of liquor that lingered on his lips. The texture of his hair between your fingers.

“Help me out of this dress,” you told him, finding your feet and turning around so he could unzip the dress. Kisses pressed to your bare shoulder, fingers slowly tugging down the zipper. Too slow. 

His hands skimmed your sides as the material fell to the floor. You reached up to tug at the corner of a piece of tape. You were relieved to find that it was easy to remove.

“That’s hot,” Bob teased, picking at the tape covering your other breast. “Like I’m unwrapping a present.”

You laughed and balled up the piece of tape in your hand, dropping it onto the bedside table while he continued to remove the rest of the tape. Grinning when he was done, finally able to admire you properly.

“You’re overdressed, Admiral Floyd.” Officially, he wasn’t an Admiral yet, but it was coming. 

He groaned at your words, your hands sliding up his chest. Tugging the tie loose from around his neck. 

“Fuck you for calling me Admiral Floyd,” he said, taking the tie from your hands and shrugging out of his jacket. “Lie down, hands above your head.”

You did as he said, resting back against the pillows and crossing your wrists above your head. You watched him move. Biting down on his bottom lip as he stepped beside the bed, looping your wrists together with his tie and knotting it to the headboard.

His hair was messy from your hands. Eyes dancing across your body with admiration and lust. He liked how easily you obeyed, that you really were his good girl. His. 

Your chest heaved in anticipation, legs pressed tightly together. Seeking any kind of relief.

He hadn’t even seen your surprise yet, a pink jewelled plug seated nicely between the cheeks of your ass. It’d been driving you wild all night. A reminder of the fun you’d be having later.

“Have you been a good girl tonight?” He asked, voice thick with lust. Desire. All for you.

“No, Admiral Floyd,” you replied as innocently as you could manage.

“No?” He taunted. “Tell me, baby.”

“‘m wearing a plug,” you whispered. “Wanted to surprise you.”

He groaned in appreciation, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. “Where’s your toys?”

You whimpered. He hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Bottom drawer,” you confessed. Of course he knew you had toys. You’d sent him a video on Snapchat of you using your dildo on yourself. He crouched down, grabbing the bag of toys from the drawer.

“What other surprises do you have here?”

“Bob,” you pleaded, tugging against your restraints.

He tutted. “That’s not my name, kitten.”

“Admiral Floyd,” you mewled, bringing a smile to his face.

“That’s better, baby,” he praised, opening the drawstring bag to reveal your two dildos – one bright pink, the other flesh coloured – some nipple clamps, a couple of vibrators and a…cock ring? He pulled it out curiously, holding it up for you to see. “Have you used this with anyone?”

“No,” you confessed. “Bought it because I wanted you to wear it. Just didn’t know how to ask.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you. Spread out on the bed, tugging at your restraints and desperately seeking some kind of relief between your legs.

“I should’ve known,” he said, reaching down to cup your cheek. “The second you said you wanted two of my fingers in your cunt and five around your neck.”

You gasped as his fingers trailed down your neck, ever so lightly applying pressure.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering closed. It wasn’t enough, but it was him. The simple act of him lightly gripping your throat turned you on so much more than you thought it would.

“Spread your legs,” he told you softly. 

You did as he asked, missing his light touch around your neck. You opened your eyes to watch him settle between your legs, grinning wickedly. 

“Naughty girl,” he tsked. “Wearing that plug made you so fucking wet.”

“Wore it for you.”

He pulled the saturated material of your panties to the side, running his finger up the length of your slit and applied pressure to your swollen clit. Stroking it slightly, watching you squirm under his touch.

“Admiral Floyd, please.”

“Fucking hell,” he cursed, taking the time to properly remove your underwear. Stuffing the material in your mouth and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Good girls get to talk. You haven’t been a good girl tonight, have you?”

You shook your head, watching him dip his head to suck your breasts. Nipples taut with desire to be touched, played with. Your moan muffled by the material stuffed in your mouth, back arching towards his mouth. Needing so much more than he was giving you.

“Was gonna take my time with you tonight,” he mumbled, his breath hot against your skin. Suckling bruises into the swell of your chest. “Don’t think you deserve it, hm?”

Your arms strained as you tugged them, begging them to be freed. Needing to touch him. Tell him he could have his way with you, whatever he wanted. You just wanted to be used. 

You watched him free his cock from his pants, kneeling between your open legs as he stroked his length. His tip was positioned at your entrance, roughly thrusting inside your sopping heat. Palming your breasts or gripping your hips as he set an unrelenting pace.

God, this was exactly what you needed. His grunts and groans filled the air. Fingers gripping your hips so tightly you knew they’d leave bruises. The sound of wet skin slapping and the tightening in your core only spurring him on.

“Cum with me, kitten,” he goaded. “Fuck, I’m almost there. Need you to milk the cum from my cock. There’s my good girl, fucking hell.”

Your body spasmed as he talked you through your orgasm. Feeling like it was so much more intense than it had ever been before. Your eyes squeezing shut, your moans muffled and legs locked around his waist.

Bob loosened your restraints and you took your panties from your mouth. Throwing them across the room while he started taking your heels off. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you whined, watching a smirk form on his face as he dropped the first heel to the ground and started on the next. 

“What look?” He asked innocently.

You grabbed a pillow and used it to cover your face, groaning into it. He laughed softly, only removing the pillow once your other shoe was off.

“What look?”

“That ‘you’ve got a kinky secret you’ve been hiding from me’ look,” you replied.

“I mean, you do,” he pointed out. “I won’t push it if you’re not comfortable…”

“I can’t have this conversation with a plug in my ass,” you confessed, only making him laugh. You gasped as he flipped you onto your stomach, hands grabbing your ass. Revealing that pretty plug nestled inside. “Fucking hell.”

He hummed as he toyed with the gem, spanking your ass just because he could.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he praised. Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a moan falling past your lips as he gently tugged the plug. “Relax, baby.”

“This is just turning me on more,” you admitted. “Let me do it.”

“No,” his voice was firm, gently tugging the plug again.

The moan that fell past your lips as the plug breached the tight muscle had you hiding your face in shame. Whimpering at the loss of the intrusion while he slapped your ass again.

“Get that pretty little ass in the shower,” he told you. You wasted no time in heading to the bathroom and starting the shower. You heard the plug clink as he washed it in the sink before stripping and joining you a moment later. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You grinned as he snaked his arms around your waist, your own draping around his neck. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Admiral Floyd.”

“I’m so glad you’ve never called me that at work,” he confessed. “Would’ve been awkward as fuck trying to hide my boner.”

You laughed and he silenced you with a kiss. Sweet and searing. 

“Maybe this would’ve happened a lot sooner,” you mused.

“I love that it’s happening now, though.”

“So do I.”

The next awards show was the one you’d been hanging out for. The Promotion Ceremony was almost a week after the Navy’s annual awards ceremony. You’d been working your butt off during the week, and spending the evenings with Bob. 

It was a comfortable little routine you found yourselves in, but you hadn’t come close to having a conversation about your kinks and boundaries. You were hoping to broach the subject with a new little stint at the next ceremony.

Once again, your dress matched Natasha’s dress for the evening. 

You walked inside the building arm in arm with Natasha yet again. You smiled warmly at Natasha’s bosses and politely excused yourself to use the bathroom. Putting your little plan into action. 

The pink device slipped easily inside you, and the control was an app on your phone. You checked it to see that it was working, leaving it on a low buzz that tickled you just right. Washing your hands before joining Natasha and trying to find your table.

You were led to the right table, glad to see that it was empty for now. Allowing the two of you to settle and chat amongst yourselves for the time being. 

You perked up when Bob and Javy joined you both at the table. They were mingling, as usual, but both dressed nicely in their blues. You let your eyes wander over Bob, whose jaw ticked as he took in your outfit. Eyes lingering on the deep plunge of your neckline. 

So that’s how you were playing it tonight, you thought. A smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth as you met his heavenly gaze.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” Natasha teased. 

The low hum between your legs was comfortable, and as Javy dragged Natasha away to get some water, you made your move. Slipping into the seat beside Bob and placing your phone on the table, the app open for anyone to see.

“What’s this?”

You leaned in a little closer and lowered your voice. “The controls for the vibrator in my pussy.”

“Oh, kitten.”

You let out a flirty giggle. “Give it a try.”

You demonstrated how to alter the speed, biting down on your inner cheeks as he cranked the speed high. Too high.

“You’re in for a long night,” he warned you.

You gave him a sweet smile as you moved back to your seat, shuffling to get comfortable despite the intense vibrations from the toy. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

“What’s the passcode?”

“7-4-4-8,” you replied through gritted teeth, watching him lock the phone and tuck it into his pocket. It spelled out shit, which was exactly what you thought at that moment. 

He grinned wickedly, resting his arms on the table as he looked at you. “You’ll be rewarded if you don’t cum.”

You nodded, legs crossed beneath the table and hands in your lap. He watched you intently as you shuffled in your seat, breaths coming short and quick. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out if anyone has any clue about what’s going on.

“Y/N,” Bob said softly. “Breathe slowly.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, blowing out a breath. Eyes finding his shining with mischief. You try to slow your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth.

But you’re acutely aware of how good it feels between your legs. The tiniest moan slipped past your lips and he’s quick to turn the device down. Your jaw ticked as you clenched your teeth and glowered in his direction.

He did it for a reason, Javy and Natasha were back. He didn’t want it to be so obvious. He didn’t want you to get caught. 

One look at Natasha told you she’d got more than a bottle of water. You busied yourself with fixing her hair while she wore a guilty look and finished reapplying her lipstick. 

Bob gave Javy shit, but it was all in good humour. Considering the control he had over you tucked in his pocket…you bit your tongue. Not wanting to say anything to incriminate the two of you when Natasha and Javy had clearly just fucked in a bathroom somewhere. 

“Thanks,” she mumbled to you.

You hummed in acknowledgement as you sat back in your seat, trying not to fidget or shuffle too much. Every time you moved you felt the device hit your g-spot and you almost gave yourself away.

“You okay?”

You hummed again. “Yeah, when’s this thing supposed to start?”

“Soon,” Bob answered coolly. Bastard. He was having too much fun with his hand in his pocket and thumb moving the speed of the device inside you. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you snipped. Both Natasha and Javy cast a look between the both of you before sharing a look of their own. “Stop asking me if I’m okay.”

“You seem tense,” Natasha commented. “I know a good bathroom to get your back blown out in…”

Javy nudged her with a playful look in his eyes. You were glad you were seated so far away from Bob right now, you knew you’d cross a line if he was within touching distance. 

“That’s not her problem,” Bob replied.

Natasha eyed you a little more carefully, her hand covering their mouth as she started giggling. God fucking damn it. 

“Shut up,” you hissed.

“I haven’t said anything,” she replied, still laughing her ass off. 

You slapped her arm, but the movement made the device brush your g-spot and you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop you from moaning.

Bob turned the device up ever so slightly. You glared at him, arms folded over your chest as you sank down in your seat. Trying to block out the tightness in your core and focus on your breathing again. 

“What the fuck is happening?” Javy whispered to Natasha.

“I’ll tell you later,” she replied, rubbing her arm from where you slapped her. “I kinda wanna see how this plays out.”

“I’ll slap you again,” you threatened Natasha. She simply gave you a shit-eating grin in response.

It was going to be a long night. 

Throughout the opening ceremony, Bob turned the vibrations down to a more bearable setting. You appreciated it, but didn’t let on that you were happy or annoyed. You focused on the host, while keeping an eye on Bob in your peripheral, whose gaze never once waived from you.

You enjoyed your drink and spoke with Natasha. As the ceremony progressed, you’d look at Bob occasionally, and only then would the setting get turned up slightly.

Your seating configuration changed so you were sitting beside Bob near the halfway point of the evening. At least, you thought it was about halfway through. They hadn’t quite finished all the mumbo jumbo from the retiring staff yet. 

You drank to try and calm down as the vibrations were gradually increased to a point where you were constantly being edged. Brought closer to your orgasm, but then Bob would turn it back down. Resting a hand on your knee for a brief moment, a silent reminder of what he said earlier. 

It only made you antsier. You shuffled your chair a little closer until his leg was pressed against the length of yours. You needed his touch, his comfort. Whatever kind that you could get, given your current surroundings.

When they announced the newest Admirals, Javy and Bob rose to their feet. But not before Bob set the device at an uncomfortably high speed. 

“Breathe,” you reminded yourself, though it was a struggle. 

Damn Bob. Damn you for having this idea in the first place.

They made short speeches as they accepted their medals that now adorned their breastplates and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t have the egg pressing nauseatingly against your g-spot. 

When the men rejoined the table, Bob’s hand lingered on your thigh. Your breathing quickened, heart racing as you squeezed your legs together and gripped his hand tightly.

“You’re okay,” he told you softly, turning his hand over to properly hold yours.

“I’m okay,” you breathed, swallowing hard.

“Good girl.”

You squeezed his hand as a warning, your other hand pressed to your chest. You barely paid any attention as Natasha took to the stage. She was accepting her second star on her Admiral badge. 

Your attention was pulled back to Bob as he turned the setting up again. You squeezed his hand tight, your breath catching in your throat. Bottom lip taken harshly between your teeth.

He cleared his throat, making you look at him. Your eyes watered as you met his steely gaze. 

 “Not yet,” he told you.

“Please,” you whimpered softly. “Please.”

“I’ll take you home soon,” he replied. “Just a bit longer.”

“Turn it down,” you pleaded quietly. “I’m going to cry. It’s too much. Please, sir.”

He took you in. Your flushed, heaving chest. Your watering hooded eyes. Your swollen bottom lip. He shifted uncomfortably, unlocking your phone and turning the device down to a more bearable setting.

He leaned closer, lips brushing your ear. “You’re getting punished for that.”

“Thank you, sir. I deserve it.”

He surprised you by kissing your cheek. You gave him a smile and rested your hand on his thigh, his wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. 

You enjoyed the comfort as another couple of promotions were announced, and relaxed into him. 

When it came time for you to leave, Bob happily took your hand in his. 

Bob stood beside you as you watched Javy and Natasha both disappear down the street, shivering in the brisk air. He shrugged his jacket off and draped it around you without you needing to ask, smiling at you as you thanked him. 

“You did good tonight,” he told you.

“You mean the vibrator?”

He chuckled, sliding an arm around your back and pulling you a little closer. “I do.”

He helped you into the car, lacing his hand with yours. You sat in silence on the ride back to his place, his thumb drawing circles on the back of your hand. His other thumb altered the speed of the vibrator still inside you. Watching your reactions throughout the drive, and kissing you whenever he turned it up so you didn’t moan. 

You were delirious when you arrived at his place. Feeling like you were floating on another planet as he led you up the steps and through the threshold. 

“How many times did you almost come?” He asked you. You stood in front of him, feeling small under his gaze.

“Five times,” you told him truthfully.

He reached out to cup your face, lightly gripping your jane between his thumb and the length of his forefinger. “Five spanks on each cheek should be punishment enough, hm?”

Your cunt tightened in excitement. “Yes, sir.”

“Wait for me in the bedroom,” he instructed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and smiling sweetly at you.

You did as he asked, walking down to the master bedroom and hanging his suit jacket up in his closet before standing at the end of the bed, waiting anxiously. You felt the vibrations in the device get dialled up, squeezing your thighs together as you tried not to enjoy it too much. Your eyebrows pulled together, bottom lip taken harshly between your teeth. Hissing at the pain that shot through your swollen and bruised lip, a reminder of how many times you’d bitten it through the night.

Your eyes fluttered open as you heard the bedroom door click shut. 

“Strip for me, baby,” Bob said, taking a seat on the end of the bed. “Keep the heels on.”

You had no music playing, but you pretended there was. A song played in your head as you moved your body under his watchful gaze. His eyes raking over you, taking in every sway of your hips, the way your hands caressed your chest and stomach. Flipping your hair over your shoulder as you turned your back to him and reached for the zipper on your dress.

The material fell to the floor but you kept dancing. The way you moved was hypnotising and you felt Bob’s burning gaze. The air electric between you as your hair covered your chest and you sat yourself down in his lap. Running your hands up his chest and toying with his tie, loosening it and undoing a couple of the buttons. Only moving away when he hand caressed your lower back.

“Touching costs extra, Admiral Floyd,” you chastised playfully, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you twirled around. 

Putting on a show as you bent over and slowly removed your underwear. The material soaked with your arousal. 

He chuckled lowly as you threw them at him, watching his fingers rub over the wet spot and his eyes darken as you sank to your knees. Stroking his thighs, lightly skimming over his crotch and hearing him hiss at the contact.

Eyes lock on his as you pressed a feathersoft kiss to his clothed cock. His nostrils flaring at the small gesture, jaw ticking.

“Lie across my lap, kitten,” he told you, voice leaving no room for argument. Not that you would, anyway. You were enjoying this too much. This shift in dynamic, the power you’d given him. The trust you had in him not to take it any further than you were comfortable with.

You folded yourself over his lap, glad you had the bed to rest on, too.

His hand rested on the back of your thigh, fingers toying with the pink rubber from the vibrator still inside you. He tugged it lightly, making your moan.

“You want me to take it out, or leave it in?”

“Out please, sir,” you replied meekly. He turned the device off before you felt a stronger tug. Willing your body to relax enough to let the device slip out, and whimpering at the loss as it breached the muscle. “I’ll take my punishment now, sir.”

“Five strikes on each cheek,” he reminded you. You didn’t know what he did with the toy, but his hand softly squeezed your left cheek. Playful, almost. “Count them.”

The first slap came as a surprise. Not too hard, but not too soft. Just enough to give you a taste, knowing he was likely to strike harder.

“One,” you counted as his hand caressed the tender skin. His hand came down harder this time, and you whimpered as he caressed the skin once again. “Two.”

Each strike got a little bit harder, and you grew a little bit wetter. Whimpering as his fingernails dragged over the sensitive skin, likely leaving a temporary mark in their wake.

You counted, “five,” and then came the assault to your other cheek. He started harder, but still took the time to smooth his hand over the freshly struck area. Caressing and squeezing.

“One,” you counted, hands fisting the bedding beneath you. Thighs squeezed together, desperately trying to stave off your orgasm. His hand came down hard once again, causing you to whimper under his touch. “Two.”

“Three more,” he told you, reaching out to brush some hair behind your ear. “Keep counting.”

You gasped as his hand stung your ass once more. “Three,” you said, eyes squeezed shut. You counted out the last two painfully, tears stinging your eyes. Not because of the pain, but because of the pleasure.

He pulled you into his lap, cradling you into his chest. Brushing your hair back from your face and swiping at a tear that escaped before it ran down your cheek.

“Was that too much?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“No,” you assured him. “It was good, I just need to come. Please, Admiral Floyd. Please let me come.”

He hummed, cupping your cheek and drawing you in for a kiss. 

His mouth was dominating. Tongue working its way into your mouth, a firm hand on your hip, the other cupping the base of your skull. Fingers wound into your hair and tipping your head back, exposing your neck to him. His hot mouth latching onto your soft skin, sucking, pecking, biting.

You released a shaky breath as he nipped at your collarbones, hand gripping the back of his neck, the other tugging his tie. 

You gasped as his hand skimmed up your side, cupping your breast. Thumb brushing over your pebbled nipple before pinching it roughly and dipping his head to take the other one in his mouth. Teeth grazing the swollen nub, tongue soothing, fingers teasing. 

He moved you so you were lying on your back, completely at his mercy. His mouth and hands continued to pinch and nip at your chest, your back arching into his touch. Legs spread wide, accommodating his body. Hands wound in his short hair and tugging as he sucked a bruise into the top of your breast.

Your hips arch off the bed, desperate for some friction between your legs. His teeth grazed your nipple as he chuckled, biting down enough to make you hiss.

“So needy,” he taunted, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud. “Use your words, babygirl.”

“Need your mouth, Admiral Floyd,” you pleaded. “Your tongue, your fingers. Anything. Please make me come.”

His hands grip your thighs, spreading your legs as he kisses your navel and pushes you further up the bed. Ankles resting over his shoulders, the heel of your stilettos no doubt digging into his back, but if it bothers him he doesn’t let on. Eyes level with your pretty, glistening cunt. 

He used his thumbs to spread you open, groaning as your hands comb through his hair.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he compliments, laying his tongue flat against your cunt and tasting your arousal. Humming in appreciation as you gasp and shudder, nose pressed snug against your clit.

He hooked his arms under your thighs, splaying his hands out over your chest and stomach. One hand applying pressure to your abdomen, the other playing with your breasts.

When your thighs clamped around his head, he knew you were a goner. Tongue licking, mouth sucking, nose firm. The perfect combination, and his favourite way to make you come undone.

He groaned in appreciation as your hips bucked against his face, riding out your orgasm. Your juices coating his tongue and dribbling down his chin. 

You saw stars as he pressed two fingers inside your sopping cunt, curling them back towards himself as he sucked on your clit. Teeth grazing the sensitive bundle of nerves, hips rolling against his mouth.

Then he sucks. Hard. And you almost pass out, gasping and bucking your hips wildly. Fingers brushing against your g-spot, working together with his mouth to make you cum again.

Your head lolled to the side, body satiated and pliant. Eyes frantically trying to blink away the spots from your vision until Bob’s face was all you could focus on. His hand cupping your cheek, eyes full of worry. 

Chin glistening.

“I’ve never cum that hard in my life,” you confessed breathily, eyes coming back into focus.

“Think you can cum again for me?” He asked. 

“Yes, sir,” you confirmed, pulling off his tie with a grin.

He chuckled as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and quickly removed his trousers. Cock springing free and slapping his stomach, the tip angry and red and glistening with precum.

He groaned as you reached for his cock, stroking his length. His hand replaced yours and you gasped as he slapped his cock against your clit. Grinning wickedly as he ran the tip of his cock up your slit and pushed just the tip inside your cunt.

“Admiral Floyd,” you pleaded. “Please. I need your cock, sir. Need you to fill me with your cum.”

Bob groaned deeply as he folded himself on top of you, hips rocking into you. Refusing to give you more than just the tip.

“Such a filthy little slut, hm?” He asked, fingers closing around your throat. Squeezing your pressure point. Your mouth falling open at the sudden act.

“Yes, sir,” you agreed, swallowing thickly. “Only a slut for you.”

He hummed, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re mine.”

You whimpered, fingernails digging into the fresh over his shoulder blades. Your brain covered in fog, too overwhelmed by him. 

“Say it,” he growled. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Admiral Floyd. Your filthy little slut.”

You gripped his wrist as he thrust inside you, bottoming out. Your eyes rolling back in your head, his name falling past your lips in a delirious chant. 

“Mine,” he repeated, sealing his mouth over yours as his thrusts made you moan. So fucking close. So fucking good.

You groaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue, gripping the back of his neck as he rested his forehead against yours. Your eyes locked on his, noses nudging together as his thrusts grew faster. Harder. More unrelenting. 

Taking and taking and taking until you were coming undone around him. Beneath him. Consumed by all things Bob. 

“Bob,” you whined, legs wrapping around his waist as he came. Grunting and bottoming out as his cock twitched and spilled inside you. 

He looked so fucking pretty when he came. Eyes screwed shut, body shuddering. A thin sheen of sweat making his skin glisten in the low light. Lips parted as he cursed and panted your name.

He collapsed beside you, stroking your hair with a blissful look on his face. Holding you close, your lips pressing soft kisses to his cheeks, his chin, his lips. 

“That was…holy fuck,” he said with a breathy chuckle. 

You hummed, smiling as he nudged your nose with his. “You’re so good to me, Admiral Floyd.”

He groaned lowly, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re good to me, kitten. So fucking good.”

He kissed you slowly, sweetly. A stark contrast to the frenzied kisses you’d shared previously. Taking his time to make you feel comfortable, cherished. So fucking loved.

[joelsgreys]

bailé con mi ex l (javier peña x female reader)

summary: After a night out at the club with your friends, you confess to Javier that you danced with your ex-boyfriend and he doesn’t take the news too well.

pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

warnings: 18+ only, minors dni. Protective, jealous and slightly possessive Javi, he is a lil toxic, but just a smidge I promise; innocent-ish reader; angst, bits of fluff sprinkled in here and there. Not proofread for spelling, sorry!

word count 2.2k

a/n 📝 wooo, Vee finally popped her Javi cherry. testing the waters with this one, I also have a couple prompts from a while back to still write. it is based on a Becky G song, yes I know she and this song did not exist back in the day (I think? Idk what year she was born tbh) but ANYWAY I just really like the lyrics and plus it’s fiction so who cares lmao. Translations at the end ✨

Tú no me creerás, pensarás que hay algo más

es difícil de entenderlo, pero no sería capaz de enganãrte

y si te lo cuento

es porque tengo muy claro lo que siento

It was half past one o’ clock in the morning—you had told Javier you’d be home by midnight at the very latest. But a night out at one of the more popular clubs in Bogotá celebrating a close friend’s birthday meant that none of the girls were going to allow you to leave that early without giving you some kind of shit about it, so you had stayed just a little while longer and tossed back another drink or two before finally calling it a night. Your friends still gave you grief about it, but knowing Javier, he would be worried, especially since cartel violence in the region had begun to escalate over the last several months, worsening to the point where Javi didn’t even like you going out to the produce market all by yourself in broad daylight.

You tried to be as quiet as possible as you pulled your keys out from your purse, fumbling around with them in the dark until you’d finally found the right one to unlock the front door of yours and Javier’s shared apartment. You slipped inside and the moment that you did, the lights flipped on, causing you to whirl around and let out a startled little yelp. 

You turned to see Javier standing there, fully dressed in his jeans and a tight red button up shirt with his set of car keys clutched in hand. “Javi,” You breathed out his name as your hand flew to your chest. You shot him a glare. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me! What in the world are you doing? Why are you dressed—do you have any idea what time it is right now?”

“Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” Javier retorted, raising an eyebrow at you. Part of him seemed to be upset, but the other part of him seemed more relieved than anything. He tossed his keys down onto the small, hallway table and walked over to you, taking your face between his large hands as he kissed your forehead. He let his lips linger on your skin as he reminded you, “You told me you would be home by midnight, amor. You can’t tell me that and then come home almost two hours later. You know how bad things are out there right now. You could have at least called me to let me know you’d be late.”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just that the girls were shoving shot glass after shot glass right into my hands and time just got away from me,” You said, placing both of your hands right over his. Your eyes met his dark brown ones and you flashed him a sincere, apologetic look. “I’m really sorry I didn’t call. I didn’t mean to make you worry, Javi.”

He sighed. “Well, you’re home safe now. That’s all that matters to me.” Javier dropped his hands from your face and led you into the living room. “Can I get you anything, baby? Are you thirsty?”

“Actually, I’d love a glass of water,” You admitted, kicking off your black, high heeled shoes before dropping down onto the supple, brown leather couch. You watched him as he padded over into the kitchen. “I didn’t get as drunk as I thought I would, you know.” You added jokingly, “I think my tolerance for tequila is through the roof now.”

Javi laughed as he pulled a glass from one of the kitchen cabinets; he then filled it with water from the jug he’d pulled out of the refrigerator. “But you still had fun, right?”

“God, I had so much fun,” You told him with a grin. “I danced all night, Javi.”

“With who?” He’d asked the question casually, but you could detect the seriousness behind it. 

Your smile faded slightly.

At first, you hadn’t planned to tell him. But Javier was the love of your life, and you would never dare to keep any kind of secret from him.

Still, you knew he wouldn’t be all too happy with what you were about to confess.

Javier walked back over to you, handing you the glass of water. He frowned, noticing the hesitant expression on your face. “What is it?” He placed his hands on his hips, peering at you curiously. “You didn’t dance with any guys, did you?”

“Just one,” You admitted, softly. 

Javier froze a moment, his shoulders going rigid. 

“What?” Through gritted teeth, he demanded to know, “Who?”

The moment your ex boyfriend’s name fell from your lips, the color drained from Javier’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Setting the glass down on the table beside the couch, you quickly jumped up and held up your hands in defense. “Wait a minute, before you get mad about it, just let me explain—”

“What the hell is there to explain?” Javier nearly growled at you. “That you went to some nightclub and danced with another man? One who happens to be your fucking ex-boyfriend? Es en serio?”

You went up to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “Javi, please. Just wait one second—”

He snatched his arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

Your heart sank and you backed away. “Really? You’re not even going to let me explain myself?”

“There’s nothing to explain,” Javier replied coolly. His eyes flickered up and down, giving you a quick once over from head to toe. “I would have never thought that you would be such a—”

Javier stopped himself, knowing all too damn well that he was far too angry to think clearly before letting anything come out of his mouth.

But it was too late.

He could see the hurt that flashed in your eyes. 

“Such a what?” You crossed your arms over your chest, the blood in your veins running frigid. You then raised a knowing eyebrow at him. “Such a whore?”

“I didn’t say fucking that,” he muttered, averting your gaze.

Blinking back the tears that burned your eyes, you roughly shoved past him and went straight into the bathroom. Trembling, you began looking for a clean washcloth so that you could start taking off your makeup.

The sound of the front door slamming violently just a minute or two later caused you to wince.

Certain that Javier was gone, you sank down onto the cold white tile and began to sob.

A couple of hours later into the early morning, you were sitting on your bed in nothing but one of Javier’s shirts. 

You had cried and cried, releasing your emotions until your eyes had gone dry.

You’d hoped Javier would come right back home and talk things out with you, but by the time four o’ clock rolled around, you had given up on that hope. Letting out an exhausted sigh, you were just about to reach out and switch off the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed when you heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing. 

You swallowed harshly as the sound of his footsteps approaching drew closer and closer.

Javier walked into the bedroom, looking surprised to see you sitting there, still awake at this hour. He spoke in a cold tone that let you know he was still upset with you. “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

Even from where he stood, you could smell the heavy stench of cigarettes and scotch all over him.

“I was waiting up for you,” You murmured, quietly.

Javier kicked the bedroom door closed behind him and let out a long sigh. He said nothing else to you as he kicked off his tan boots and began shrugging out of his shirt, tossing it aside.

“Where were you?” You asked him, your small voice breaking through the silence. 

“I needed a drink,” he responded curtly with his back to you.

“We have drinks here, you know.”

“Yeah, well I needed something a lot stronger than what we’ve got.”

Finally, Javier had no choice but to turn around and face you.

The second he did, a fresh tear slipped down the side of your face.

Javier’s stomach sank deeply and the expression on his face immediately softened.

“Bebe—”

You lifted both your hands to your mouth, muffling a broken sob.

“Hell, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he walked over, taking a seat beside you on the bed. He reached for your wrists, gently tugging them away from your face. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset at you, alright?”

“Do you really think that of me? Do you think that I’m a—?” You’d said the word once, but couldn’t find it in yourself to utter it again.

“Of course I don’t, mi vida. I was just angry, I wasn’t even thinking.” He paused, noticing the way you were trembling and reached up to cradle the side of your face in his palm. “Put yourself in my shoes for a second. Wouldn’t you be angry at me if I came home from a late night at the club and told you I had danced with one of my exes?”

“Probably,” You admitted, feeling the envy boil in your lower belly as you thought about him holding another woman in his arms. “But I would have at least given you the chance to explain yourself. I mean, have I ever given you a reason not to trust me, Javi?”

Javier opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut.

He’d fucked up.

“Well?” You prompted him. “Answer me, Javier. Have I ever done anything to make you think that you can’t trust me?”

“No.” His hand dropped from your face. He spoke again, guilt lacing his tone. “You’ve never given me one single reason not to trust you.”

You let out a small, shaky sigh and brought your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. “He was at the club with his friends tonight,” You began to explain to him. You noticed the way Javier stiffened slightly; although you knew he didn’t want to hear about how you had danced with your ex-boyfriend, you decided to continue on anyway. He needed to know. “He came up to me and he said hello. We had a drink together and then he asked me to dance with him.” Unable to help yourself, you let out a small breathy chuckle. “We danced to quite a few songs, actually. It was just like old times.”

Javier’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists.

Before he could say anything, you lifted one of your own hands to stop him. “He was a great guy, Javier. We had a good relationship, but it just didn’t work out. It wasn’t meant to be. When we broke up, it was amicable and we wished each other best and now, a couple years later, we both have the best. He’s with someone he loves and I’m with someone that I love too.” You offered him a tiny, watery smile. “I don’t have eyes or space in my heart for anyone else but you, Javier. Seeing him again and dancing with him tonight made me realize that I would never even dare to think about jeopardizing our relationship. I love you more than anything, and I would never do anything to betray you.” 

He stared at you, mouth agape.

Oh, he’d definitely fucked up.

Before meeting you, Javier had never been the kind of man to do relationships—because he’d never known how to do relationships. 

Before you’d walked into his life, all Javier knew was meaningless sex with escorts and informants, one night stands with coworkers—regardless of who he fucked, he had always been able to walk away the following morning without any sort of attachment. It’s what he wanted, or at least, it’s what he’d thought he wanted. 

And then Javier met you. 

You weren’t the type of woman who he’d normally set his sights on. You didn’t walk around almost naked like half the women in Colombia, you didn’t smoke, you rarely ever even cursed and only drank when your friends pressured you into it—you had this kind of sweet innocence written all over you, and normally Javier would never look twice at a woman like you because a woman like you looked for a boyfriend; not a fuck buddy and certainly not a one night stand.

Javier Peña had never been boyfriend material. 

He didn’t know how to be in a relationship.

At least not a healthy one. 

Even now, he struggled to be the partner that you deserved. He met your physical needs without a single problem, but your emotional needs were something of a challenge for him. Still, Javi loved you with every fiber of his entire being and he was more than willing to keep on trying to be the man you needed him to be in every way possible. 

“I’m sorry,” Javier murmured again after a while. He reached out, placing his hand on your bare thigh. “I am so sorry, baby. Perdoname, preciosa. Please.”

You placed your hand on top of his, giving him another little smile. “Of course I forgive you, Javi.”

Relieved, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. As he began to deepen the kiss, his hands reached out, tugging at the hem of his shirt were wearing.

“Javi, it’s four in the morning,” You giggled against his lips.

Javier chuckled. He pushed you back against the pillows and swung his leg over to climb on top of you. “When has that ever stopped us before?”

“True,” You grinned up at him before pulling him down towards you for another kiss.

;Translations

lyrics:

You might not believe me, you’ll think there’s something more

it’s difficult to understand, but I could never betray you

if I’m telling you this, it’s because I know exactly how I feel

fic:

amor - love

es en serio? - are you serious?

bebe - baby

mi vida - my life

perdoname, preciosa - forgive me, precious girl

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear. 

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all. 

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore. 

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves. 

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me. 

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has. 

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface. 

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself. 

I still don’t. 

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life. 

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically. 

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you. 

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess. 

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask. 

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?” 

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come. 

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money. 

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious. 

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room. 

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst. 

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?” 

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine. 

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes. 

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free. 

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

[tightjeansjavi]

𝙄’𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙥𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬

(Javi Peña x plus sized f!reader)

A/N: this by far has been the most intimidating piece I have ever written. I received this request awhile back and I wanted to make sure I throughly thought it through before writing. I have to thank my besties, @chaotic-mystery and @peterhollandkait for helping me along the way. Every body type deserves to be loved and appreciated, and I hope this sheds some positive light on all my plus sized babes out there. Thank you for entrusting me with writing this. ♡

~Word count: 3.7k~

Summary: A night out dancing with your friends in Colombia leads you to meet the man of your dreams, Javi Peña. He is the one man in your life who truly loves and appreciates all of you.

Warnings: established relationship, body positivity, brief societal bullshit in the beginning, Javi is a passionate lover, reader is plus sized, smut, oral (female receiving) face sitting, pussy eating, cum eating, huge fucking praise kink, teasing, banter, fluff mixed in between, swearing, NSFW, (+18) minors dni!

Songs used:

“pov” by Ariana Grande

“TiO” by Zayn

“PILLOWTALK” by Zayn

“Tuyo” by Rodrigo Amarante

Your boyfriend Javi never failed to make you feel like you were the most beautiful woman in the room. It didn’t matter where the two of you were, he didn’t hesitate to show the world that you were all his. He worshipped the ground you walked on. Your past lovers never loved you the way that Javi actively would. The ex men in your life never truly appreciated you for who you were. It was always superficial, and focused around your body. You realized at a young age that society valued women for their looks, and not what was on the inside. You didn’t fit in the category of the ‘ideal’ body type. You weren’t a stick thin model. You weren’t short and petite. You were boxed into a category that society deemed as ‘ugly.’ You were taught that all bodies were beautiful and women were more than just their skin. If only the men in your life would understand, and see things from your point of view. That was, until you met Javi Peña.

You have been dating Javi for a little over a year now. You met the DEA agent while you were out dancing with your friends one hot summer evening in Colombia. He was captivated by you, and the way your body moved. He was practically begging to take you home. You told him that he’d have to properly treat you first and for once, you didn’t see a man hesitate to take you out for a good meal. Javi knew all the best late night food joints in Bogotá, and for the rest of the late night, you enjoyed tapas together. Drinking, laughing, enjoying one’s company. He was adamant on making sure you made it home safely. You couldn’t help but invite him in for a nightcap, and next thing you knew, he had you pressed against the back of your door, hands roaming your body like a man starved. He stole the air from your lungs as he kissed you. Your mind was dizzy, captivated with this man who made you weak in the knees. Javi didn’t pressure you of course, and everything was taken at your own pace. You did end up having that nightcap together after a passionate makeout.

A year later, and your life is fully enveloped around agent Peña. You have a shared apartment now and the sparks continue to fly.

It’s Sunday morning, and you’ve always been an early riser. Your boyfriend? Well..he’s the complete opposite. You’re always understanding of course. You know just how much his job takes a toll on him. Mornings like these are your favorite because it’s just you in the kitchen, radio humming in the back as you cook you and your lover breakfast. You’re wearing one of his many shirts. This one is particularly your favorite simply for the fact that it’s an ‘unconventional’ color for a man to wear. The shirt is pink and you swear your boyfriend sprayed extra cologne on the cotton fabric just because he knows how much you love it.

You don’t even hear your lover's presence in the kitchen as you’re completely in your own world. Your hips sensually sway to the beat of the song playing through the radio as you hum along.

Javi loves the way that his shirts never cover your butt completely. He loves the way the fabric hugs your hips and thighs. He loves the way he can grip onto your hips and pull you against his chest. He loves the way that when you straddle him, your thighs take up the entire expanse of his. What society views as ugly, he views as beauty. You’re beautiful, sexy, in every way imaginable to him. Here in his kitchen, dressed in his shirt, sunlight peeking in through the stained glass windows. If only fools fall in love, then Javi was the president of the club.

You felt his presence behind you, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling your back flush against his chest. Your boyfriend is wearing nothing but tight black boxer briefs when you feel his lips press a soft kiss to the side of your neck, his mustache tickles your skin as you let out a soft giggle. “Buenos días hermosa. ¿Cómo durmió mi niña?”(good morning beautiful. How did my girl sleep?) He hummed against your skin, giving your hips a firm, loving squeeze as he continued to pepper kisses down the expanse of your neck.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you reached your hand back and threaded your fingers through his soft bead head, giving his hair a soft tug. “Buenos días mi amor, dormí bien. ¿Y tú?”(good morning my love, I slept good. How about you?) Your lover had taught you a thing or two about speaking Spanish. It was one of the many things that you and Javi did together, and It never failed to surprise him, and melt his heart when you would actively speak his native tongue.

“Getting better, cariño. That’s my girl.” He lifted his chin up slightly so he could steal a quick kiss, or two before he gently flipped you around so you were facing him. Your arms draped around his neck as he pressed you into the cool countertop. His shirt rode higher up your thighs from the movement, revealing more of your delicious skin to his adoration filled eyes. “Whatever you’re cooking there smells delicious, querida but my appetites are specific this morning. Can I eat you instead?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he grasped onto the back of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the edge of the counter top.

“Only for you, Jav.” You giggled as he lifted you up onto the counter top. Your thighs jiggled from the movement as they covered the expanse of the counter top. You wrapped them around his waist, yanking him towards you with a playful gleam in your eyes. Your boyfriend's vulgarity never surprised you and you knew how to match his energy beautifully. “You’ll spoil your breakfast if you eat me baby.”

“Don’t care. You’re looking too damn delicious for me not to. You know what you do to me when you’re wearing one of my shirts? Jesus fucking Christ woman, you know how to drive a man absolutely up a fucking wall.” He let out a low growl as he was already diving in for another kiss. “You look so fucking sexy in my shirt it’s unreal baby. Un-fucking-real how lucky I am. Luckiest fucking man alive.” He mumbled into your lips, swiping his sinful tongue across your plump lower lip before he took it between his teeth.

Finishing up preparing breakfast was no longer on your mind as your lover kissed you like a man starved. You wasted no time to pull him down on top of you, kissing him back with the same amount of passion that he exuded. A moan slipped past your lips when his teeth sunk into your skin. He had your head spinning already. “You want to devour me right here, right now?”

He tugged your lower lip out with his teeth before he released it. “I’ll get down on my knees for you right now cariño. You don’t even have to ask.” He purred as he pressed kisses all over your face now, playfully nibbling on your soft cheeks and cute nose. “I’ll eat your pussy here first, and then move you to the bed where you can sit on my face, and suffocate me with those gorgeous thighs. How’s that sound to you hermosa?”

You scrunched your nose up when his teeth playfully nibbled on it. How could your man be so sweet, and yet so filthy at the same goddamn time? “Get on your knees for me, Agent Peña.” Your voice dipped down an octave. Tone sultry, yet playful.

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled as he stole one more kiss from your pretty lips. His tongue enveloped around yours, drinking in your soft breaths with your teeth clashing in a heated kiss. His skilled fingers were already moving up his shirt that you were wearing. The buttons were nearly about to burst open and your breasts pushed against the tight fabric was enough for him to rip the shirt open ferociously. The buttons clattered to the floor as you let out a gasp, swatting at his chest.

“JAV! Your shirt! You’ve gone and—oh fuck.” Your words were cut off when his mouth wrapped around your peeked nipple, his lashes fluttering up to your gaze as his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin before sucking harshly. His hand that wasn’t gripped on your thigh was now wrapped around the expanse of your breast. He kneaded the plush skin with his fingers, tugging on your nipple with his thumb and forefinger. He provided the same amount of lustrous attention to both of your breasts. His breath was heavy as he nipped and licked at every inch of your skin that he could get to. His movements were ravenous as you watched him sink to his knees below you.

“It’s just a shirt, cariño. I have plenty of them.” You felt him grin into the warm expanse of your inner thigh. Javi was a biter, and he prided himself on it. His lips and teeth were biting and kissing your plush skin. He was a fucking tease too as he ghosted his lips across where you craved him most. Your hand found purchase in his hair, threading your fingers through the soft strands as you tugged on them, fingers scraping his scalp. “Don’t you dare make me beg you right now Javi. Don’t you dare.”

“Paciencia cariño. Let me take my sweet sweet time with you and your pretty pussy. Don’t rush my work.” He tsked as he nipped at your inner thigh once more.

You opened your mouth to protest until you felt his tongue flatten against your covered clit. His broad nose pressed against your pubic bone as he tasted you through the fabric of your thin panties. His tongue dragged across your slick folds before gliding back up to your clit. He sucked on the bundle of nerves through the fabric, creating tingling friction from his hot tongue and the fabric rubbing against you.

“Fuck me. I need to feel you completely, baby. Please, Jav. Please don’t tease me.”

Javi used the broad expanse of his shoulders to keep your thighs propped open for him. He continued to lap at your covered pussy while looking up at you. His brow rose sinfully and you could see just how dark his pupils had grown. The sight of him buried between your plush thighs was enough to have your eyes roll back into your skull. “Look at me.” He mumbled against you. “Look at me with those beautiful eyes, hermosa. Look at me while I eat your pussy. Keep them on me.”

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes fluttered open and locked on his. There was never a hotter sight than your boyfriend beneath you.

“Good girl.” He hummed while he hooked his thumb around the thin fabric and pulled it to the side. He wasted no time burying his face into you, sucking in a lungful of air because he wasn’t going to take any breaths till he had you cumming along his tongue. His nose bumped against your clit as he lapped at your slick folds. He loosened his jaw up as he sucked your clit into his mouth and used the tip of his tongue to flick against it. The sounds he made while he ate your pussy were nothing short of filthy. He loved the taste of you on his tongue. Your natural sweet saltiness drove him mad. He wasn’t shy of admitting that he loved eating you out. He’d have his face buried between your thighs everyday if you’d let him.

“F—fuck Javi. Baby—your tongue it’s so—yes, yes right there. Oh fuck. Please don’t stop.” You mewled above him, scraping your nails against his scalp as you elicited a low groan from his chest.

“Taste so fucking sweet baby. All for me. Let me hear those pretty sounds. Your pussy sounds so pretty. You hear how wet she is for me?” He hummed with a mouthful of your cunt.

You let out a slew of profanities mixed in with his name as he continued to lap at you. He switched from slow, long licks to rapid ones as he shook his head back and forth against you. Each time his nose would bump into your clit, you’d jolt forward from the sudden contact.

You could feel him grinning against you as he dropped his tongue down your slick folds, gathering up your arousal before he slipped his tongue into your tight hole, fucking you with it at an agonizing slow pace.

You struggled to keep your eyes locked on him when all you could see was the bridge of his nose. His face was completely buried against you and he loved every second of it. It took him no time to coax your first orgasm of the morning. You ground your hips into his face as you chanted his name out like it was your personal prayer.

His mouth became more ravenous against you when he could tell your orgasm was quickly approaching. He felt your thighs quiver and shake against his head as he licked up every last drop. When the rest of his face was revealed to you finally, his chin, mustache and lips were coated in your slick. He was glistening in your juices while he rested his cheek against your plush thigh, smirking up at you. “How was that for good eating?” He teased.

“You eat pussy like a man starved, Jav.” You dropped your hand down to his face, dragging your thumb across his slick covered lips. He nibbled lightly on the tip of your thumbnail.

“It’s the only way a man should be eating pussy baby. If he’s not, he’s definitely not doing it right. I fucking love it. I’d have my face buried between your thighs every damn day if you’d let me.”

“Well, maybe those ‘men’ should learn a thing or two from you.” You giggled.

He released your thumb from his lips as he turned his head to playfully nip at your thigh once more before he kissed his way up your body, skating his lips across your navel and up between the valley of your breasts. He finally reached your lips, kissing you languidly as you got a taste of yourself on his tongue.

“You need a minute or two to recover cariño? We do have all morning so there’s no rush.”

“You just want me to sit on your face Jav. It’s okay, you can admit it.” You mumbled against his lips. Your thighs were still trembling as you hooked them around his waist pulling him in closer to you.

“Yeah, I want you to suffocate me with your thighs.” He casually stated as his hands found purchase around your outer thighs. “I want my face to be so deep in your pussy that I can’t breathe. You think you can do that for me sweet girl?” His lips detached from yours as he rested his forehead against you, teasingly brushing his upper lip across your lower.

“Is this your way of proposing? Because if so, yes.” You giggled, bringing your hands up to his face as you brushed your fingers across his firm jawline.

“Fuck. I am unprepared for this querida. Let me make it up to you, okay? My apologies hermosa. I should have a ring on deck for situations like this.” He had a tiny grin on his lips that you kissed earnestly.

You let out a faux sigh of disappointment. “That’s okay baby, I know it’ll happen someday.”

“te prometo que lo hará mi amor.” (I promise you it will my love)

Your response was to kiss him, pulling him as close as you physically could as your lips slotted with his. He kissed you like no man ever had. He kissed you with urgency, sincerity and passion. Soon enough, your boyfriend was helping you off the counter on wobbly legs. He was there to keep you steady as you made your way into the bedroom.

You had taken the reins then as you pushed him onto his back, watching as he fell back against the mattress with a smug look on his face. He scooted himself back against the headboard and tapped his chest for you to come take your seat. Once you were close enough, his hands were grabbing you, pulling you onto the expanse of his chest as your thighs settled around him. Your panties were quickly discarded down your ankles and to the floor as he brushed his thumb across your clit languidly. “Don’t be afraid to squeeze me a little, okay cariño? In fact, I’d absolutely love it if you did.” He looked up at you with a grin.

“One skull crusher coming right up, baby.” You giggled as he let out a deep chuckle. The playful edge was gone when he grasped your thighs between his fingers and pulled you down directly onto his face.

His tongue dragged against you once before his teeth were nipping at your meaty inner thighs. His hands slipped around your thighs, settling along your ass as he squeezed and kneaded the plump flesh, driving you further into him.

From the angle you were at, you could barely see his face as his tongue found its way to your clit once more. Your thighs were fully wrapped around his head now as he groaned against you. Tongue lapping away as he brought one of his hands down on your ass, feeling the skin jiggle from the contact before he was gripping it tightly again.

You could only see his eyes, which were blissfully closed as he swirled his tongue around your clit, sucking into his mouth. When he felt your gaze land on him, his eyes snapped open, locking on yours intensely. There was something so erotic watching your man devour you from this angle. To see him enveloped by your pussy and thighs was the hottest thing you had ever seen.

He continued to work your clit against his tongue. He was getting especially sloppy with his mouth when you started to ride his face. He could barely breathe with you clenching in around his head but he fucking loved every second of it.

Your moans were muffled and fuzzy sounding to him as he completely zoned in on making you cum again. He surely was pussy drunk at this point by the way he furiously lapped at you. Did his jaw ever feel sore after? You weren’t even sure at this point.

“C’mon baby. I know you got one more in you sweet girl. Wanna feel you cum on my tongue hermosa. Give me another taste, please.” His filth was muffled by your thighs, but his voice vibrated deliciously against your core as your hips continued to buck into his face. Your hips continually rolled into his tongue as your head dropped between your shoulders.

“Baby—oh fuck. Keep doing that. Whatever you’re doing keep fucking doing it. Don’t stop!” You moaned above him, grinding your hips faster as you chased your impending orgasm.

“Good girl. That’s my good fucking girl. Get off on my face you pretty filthy thing.” He growled against you, digging his fingers into the thick purchase of your ass as he drove you forward.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Javi I can’t—” your hands dropped to your thighs as they began to tremble around his head.

“Yes. Yes you can hermosa. I got you baby, I got you. One more for me, just one more.” He shook his head back and forth, pulling the orgasm right out of you as you screamed out his name.

He continued to praise you, all the way through your post orgasm. His face was still buried between your thighs as he gave your pussy light kitten licks, and a chaste kiss before you were physically yanking his head up.

“Too much? I wasn’t completely finished with you, querida.” His lips were held in a plush pout as he looked up at you. His big, puppy dog brown eyes were melting your heart all over again.

“Jav, baby. I love you but you’re gonna have to give me a few after that one..Jesus fuck.”

“Mmm. That’s okay baby. I can stay right here. I don’t mind at all. Can I give her a kiss? Just a little one.”

“You fucking— fine. Just know, you have completely wrecked me, beautiful boy.”

Javi pressed one more light kiss to your sensitive clit before his hands slid from your ass to rest upon your thighs, rubbing soothing circles into the plush skin.

“I love you cariño. I’m not just saying that cause I’m a little pussy drunk right now. Okay, not a little, a lot actually. I just want to remind you that you are quite literally the most beautiful woman, mi amor. Mi corazón y mi alma son tuyos. (My love, my heart and soul are yours.”

“Javi, this isn’t you trying to sweet talk your way into eating me out again, is it?” You looked down at him with a playful grin, narrowing your eyes when his stuck his tongue out ever so slightly—

“I don’t think I have to do much sweet talking for that pretty girl.” He squeezed your thighs beneath his warm palms. “Just want to remind you how much you mean to me.” he let his one hand that was grasped around your thigh, drop to the nightstand beside the bed. He pulled open the drawer before grabbing his box of cigarettes and lighter, placing one of the cigarettes between his lips. He gently scooted your thighs back slightly as you grabbed the lighter and leaned down over him, lighting the tip of the cigarette as he inhaled, looking up at you.

“Well, I love you too, Javi. Mi corazón y mi alma son tuyos.” You softly spoke as he took a deep inhale of his cigarette, while his free hand stayed wrapped around your thigh.

“Siempre, mi amor.” He confirmed, knowing that one day he would marry you, make you his wife. Spend the rest of his days with you by his side, in his arms.

Always, my love.

Tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @loquaciousferret @userpedros @meveispunk @lovers-liability @atinylittlepain @777-wonders @korynnekorynne @novemberrain-writes @cutesyscreenname @bearsbeetsbeskar @beskarandblasters @yazsos @soaringcloud @soft-cryptids @pr0ximamidnight @last-girl @pedgeitopascal @kirsteng42 @dinsdjrn @mirasantidotes @dreamingofdaddydin @thetriumphantpanda

[prolix-yuy]

A Gift of Light and Joy

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader "Conejita" (Plus Sized Reader)

Summary: Javi wants to spoil you, but his good intentions put you in a difficult position.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), cumming on someone, minor cum play, negative body image, toxic shopping culture, some angst, Javi is clueless about women's clothes shopping but he makes up for it.

Notes: Happiest of happy birthdays to my darling, my sweet friend, the indescribable @ezrasbirdie! I was planning to post this around November but I couldn't pass up a chance to give you a fun little Javi present. I am so lucky to know you and get to yell about stories together!

While in the two previous stories Conejita wasn't described as plus sized, I always headcanoned that she was from the start. There are a couple references to the previous stories, but you can also dive in right here! Like most stories this is me working through a few bad experiences of my own, and while Javi may be a little thick in the beginning he will get to make up for it.

Cross-posted on AO3

Continued from On the Right Flight and A Bearable Weight

“I have a surprise for today.”

Javi’s gleeful face ramps up your own excitement as he ushers you into his car. 

“I thought we were going to have a picnic?” you ask as he flops into the drivers seat, curls bouncing almost as much as he is.

“That was my distraction,” he says, picking up your hand and kissing the back of it. Your heart still flutters, even months after that first one at the stroke of midnight. 

Dating Javi had, of course, been just as much of a step off the deep end as you thought. Even being close by now that you’re back in LA for work and he’s hobnobbing with the Hollywood elites, some days getting dinner feels like making a doctor’s appointment. Matching schedules down to the half hour, groaning when something comes up. But it’s all worth it when the stars align and he’s on your doorstep with all-encompassing hugs and breathless kisses. 

At first Javi’s dates were low-key and low-stress - a day at the beach, movie nights of course - but as you got closer and closer he started to take you places that had dress codes and extravagant names. He always beamed like you were the only one in the room, but you’d been in enough spaces you didn’t belong to feel eyes and judgements skitter across your back. 

You could be poised, and knowledgeable, conversational and charming, but nothing changed how you looked. Javi was always dripping in Armani, Burberry, Brioni. Your paltry wardrobe didn’t stand a chance. Every new art show or movie premiere sent you running to a department store to find a new dress (pretty girls on their rich boyfriend’s arm didn’t reuse eveningwear) and inevitably you’d be pinched or poked or squeezed into something not made for you. Long minutes spent in the bathroom wondering if Javi would notice the bra strap divot in your shoulder, or the dark lines of seams pressed along your skin. Pretending you enjoyed slipping into a silk robe every time you spent the night was more palatable than the embarrassment of wriggling out of shapewear in front of him, or refusing to let him undress you in case a zipper pulled too tightly. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t hide your discomfort as well as you imagined. Sometimes you caught Javi’s concerned look when the built-in corset made you squirm in your seat, or when you winced at the chafe of your heels. 

So when he parks his car on Rodeo Drive he’s the picture of pride and sunshine. You, on the other hand, leave your stomach on the sidewalk behind you.

“I wanted to do something special,” he’s saying, muffled words bubbling up as your feet trudge to a gleaming glass door. There’s security inside, sales people scattered around holding hangers up to discerning buyers. “And before you say anything about money, I don’t want you to look at a single price tag.” Javi turns your face to him with a gentle nudge, breaking your doom stare through the glass. “I want to spoil you a little. You never let me spoil you.” His pout brings a little smile to your face, dipping in to kiss him. 

“We can do anything Javi. I don’t need things,” you try to deflect, hoping you can convince him away from the inevitable rejection you’ll receive inside. 

“Just one time?” he asks again, soft brown eyes imploring you. How could you say no? 

“Okay,” you breathe out, steeling yourself for the worst as Javi beams back at you.

“I thought this place would match what you like,” he says as two suited doormen guide you inside. It flutters your heart. He’s right, you’ve always liked this designer’s silhouettes and styles. It’s exactly what you’d choose…if you were several sizes smaller.

“Hi, do you have an appointment?” a small-framed woman with black plastic glasses and a bouncy ponytail asks. She’s dressed head to toe in the designer’s current collection, sleek black throughout with stylish red earrings that dangle down her neck. Her smile isn’t as cold as you might expect. You’d heard horror stories of snide sales people practically insulting clients to get them to spend more. 

“Yes, Gutierrez,” Javi offers smoothly, placing a grounding hand on your lower back. “For my girlfriend.” You shoot him a lopsided smile. He doesn’t get the chance to say it often, but when he does you love the way girlfriend rolls off his supple lips.

“Ah, yes, miss…” the sales woman begins, letting you offer your name. You catch a fleeting look of concern cross her face. Her cheek sucks in like she’s chewing on it, smile still bright but eyes more cautious.

“My name is Melanie, if you’d like to follow me to your consultation space,” she says, leading you and Javi to a curtained-off partition with several chairs, a changing room and a pedestal that makes your stomach flip. 

“So what are you here to find today?” Melanie asks. Javi settles in a chair, spreading his knees and leaning back so sexily you can almost forgive him for the anxiety pumping through your veins. 

“Whatever my Conejita desires,” he says, and you’re torn between smacking or straddling him. Melanie turns her attention to you and you wrack your brain.

“I guess…a dress would be nice?” you say. Javi reaches out to squeeze your hand reassuringly, adoration so clear in his eyes. He truly has no idea it’s the most likely to have ease in the sizing. You might make it out with one and blame it on not wanting to overspend. Javi would get his wish, and you would make it out with most of your ego unscathed. Win-win.

Melanie leads you out of the space and into the clothing racks. The choices are sparse, a few items hung per rack in an exclusivity motif. As soon as you’re out of earshot she starts chatting.

“Your boyfriend is very sweet to be treating you today.”

You hum and nod, chewing the inside of your lip. Some of the pieces are very pretty, flattering cuts and classic shapes, but none of the silhouettes look large enough for you. 

“Does he…do this often?” Melanie asks carefully, and when you look at her you see an understanding that soothes you ever so slightly.

“First time.”

“A surprise.”

“Yeah, pretty big one.”

Melanie smiles at that, arms wrapped around an iPad. Her nails are very pretty tapping against the device.

“Let’s take a look back here,” she says, leading you off the main floor and further into the store. The racks are fuller back here, but not nearly enough to make you think success is within reach. Your chest tightens, but you put on a cheery smile when Melanie turns back to you.

“Men are just…so thick sometimes,” she sighs, and the sharp change makes you bleat out a laugh. “I’m sure Mr. Gutierrez has the best intentions in mind…”

You nod and finish her sentence.

“...but you don’t have anything here for me.” Her hands clutch at the tablet again, going white around the knuckles.

“We might have a few things, but they’ll be simpler. Not like the current collection.”

“Simple is fine,” you rush to say, her smile making your own come to the surface. 

“Okay, let me go digging. I think we can make it work. I’m…” She pauses to clear her throat, lowering her voice. “I’m sorry this isn’t fun. I hate it. I just want everyone to feel happy in their clothes, not…left out.”

You turn your comfort to her, squeezing her shoulder.

“I appreciate you trying to help.”

Melanie scurries off to the backroom, leaving you on the bustling floor with ten other women who could slip into anything off the rack no problem. Weaving aimlessly, you peruse the dresses. Each one holds promise, which only makes it more disappointing when the tag numbers run too small. But you’re keeping positive, searching for Melanie’s bouncing ponytail returning with anything. You’d gush over a mumu. 

“Excuse me,” comes over your shoulder, and you turn to another sales woman hovering expectantly behind you. Her brow is lifted high, barely waiting for you to shift before tugging a garment off the rack. She turns quickly, but in the split second before you see it. That stomach-dropping look that screams good luck slathered in sarcasm. Your throat clenches, hands coming to your middle and you wish you could just collapse into yourself like a dying star. 

“Fuck this,” you whisper, tears shining in your eyes as you hurry back to the consultation space. You’ll tell Javi you have a headache, that you’re too hungry to shop right now, anything to convince him to get the hell out of here. 

“Cone…” he says as you burst in, snatching up your purse and steeling your voice. The sunshiney excitement trades quickly for concern. “What is wrong? I promise the cost…” 

“Actually, I don’t really…I don’t…” You try to get out your white lies with an even tone but when Javi cups your face in his large hands your composure crumples. A fat tear breaks rank and rolls down your face, Javi’s eyes widening with shock.

“Conejita, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” His eyes darken a fraction. “Did someone say something to you?”

Your heart skips a beat, which you blearily file for later introspection. Resting your head on his shoulder, he envelops you in his arms. Orange peel and musk surrounds you, Javi’s soothing hands traveling up and down your spine. When your breaths stop warbling you pull back, wiping your face.

“I’m sorry…” you start to say, but Javi moves you to sit. He drops to a kneel, clasping your hands in your lap.

“No, Conejita, you are not apologizing for one second. What has upset you? Was it someone out there?” When you shake your head, his eyes soften. “Was it me?”

“Oh Javi,” you sign, squeezing his hands. Your lashes are still wet with tears, but you can see his dread so clearly. “I really appreciate this, all of it. I’m sure it’s flattered lots of people before. But I’m…me.” You release a big breath, the pain of keeping all your anxieties in finally easing. “I can’t shop at places like this, Javi, I don’t…they don’t make clothes like this for people my size.” 

Javi’s concern smashes into confusion.

“But they must have seamstresses in the back. They take your measurements, no? Find an acceptable piece and tailor it?”

The laugh you bark out is watery but it does raise the corners of your lips.

“Men have it so easy,” you bemoan. “I think the closest size I saw was still in the single digits. And even then, the numbers rarely mean anything.” Javi’s confusion only deepens.

“But how do you know what to buy? Surely the measurements are the same. Inseam, waist, sleeve length, how can it be so different?”

“Javi, I’m rarely the same size at the same store.”

Javi sputters. “That’s madness. How does anyone put up with that?” 

You giggle lightly, the tears finally receding. “I just go to the department stores. More variety, more sizes. No pushy sales people. Though Melanie is really nice.”

“But you are still uncomfortable,” he says, stroking his thick thumbs along the back of your hands. “I did not want to say anything, but I noticed. You do not seem to feel good in the nice things you wear.” 

You shrug. “It’s not perfect, it’s just…easier.”

His eyes implore up at you. “I wanted you to feel good with me.” Your heart patters, Javi’s face falling. “But I have made it worse. Please forgive me, Conejita, I truly did not know this would be so painful.”

You pat Javi’s cheek and give him a quick kiss. “I know, Javi. I know you didn’t mean for it to be.” A tap on his nose makes him smile. “But next time, when the lady doth protest too much, maybe listen?” Javi’s cheeks pink as he nods.

“Shakespeare has always been wiser than me,” he jokes as he helps you back to your feet. He leads you back to the front of the store with one hand on your back, and for a few seconds you do feel like the most beautiful person in the room. Women looking at you in awe, Javi’s fingers pressing in a way that’s subtly possessive. You could be lady Godiva riding a Shetland pony and not feel a lick of shame when he looks at you like that.

“Mr Gutierrez!” Melanie calls as she hurries up to the front to intercept. Her hands are empty, which is a relief.

“Thank you for your help, I just don’t think there’s anything for me here,” you say in a practiced tone that makes Javi pull you closer and Melanie’s eyebrows knit in the middle. She nods, extending a folded piece of paper to Javi. 

“I’m sorry they didn’t have something for you today,” she says, and Javi takes the proffered paper. He leads you out of the store and into the fresh sunlight of the street. Unfolding it, he raises an eyebrow then secrets it away in his jacket pocket.

“What was that about?” you ask, tucking your arm into his elbow. He shakes his head.

“Nothing important. What is important is going to get some lunch, then we are going driving with the top down and dinner at my place after.” 

“Javi…” you say with a little warning, but he tuts at you as his long stride pulls you down Rodeo drive.

“I know, I know what you will say, but bear with me because I am learning how to love you the right way. Today was not so good, but I would like to try and make it better.” He slows down when he catches your wide eyes and dazed smile. “What? What have I said now?”

“That you love…” the last words disappear on the wind as Javi’s smile crinkles his eyes.

“Of course, Conejita. Dios mio, of course I love…I love you,” he rushes out, barely able to finish before crashing his lips into yours. Wide palm cupping your head, you couldn’t care less that you’re making pedestrians part around you. Javi loves you, even if he’s a little clumsy about it. But when someone wants to learn to love you the right way…how can you not love every atom of them back?

The following weekend finds you in one of the lesser-used rooms in Javi’s house, sitting on a chair by the window. He deposited you there with a cappuccino and a promise to wait, so now you’re doing just that. Javi does love surprises, but you never expected Melanie to walk in the door.

“Oh my god, hi,” you manage to get out, standing up to shake her hand but are treated to a tight hug instead. She looks brighter, lighter than the last time you saw her, black ensemble traded for a pale blue button-up and floral patterned pants. 

“Javi told me it was a surprise, and I want it on the record that after this one he’s not allowed any more!” You sit across the little cafe table from her with visible confusion.

“I am a bit…lost…as to the surprise,” you giggle out nervously, which has Melanie opening a smart black bag and taking out folios and fabric swatches.

“I’ve been trying to get my stylist business off the ground and…” She pauses for a moment before making genuine eye contact. “And if there’s anything I was meant to do, it’s find people clothes that make them happy. So I offered him my services and he’s…well, he’s been very generous.”

Pride swells in your chest. So Javi.

“So what we’re going to do today is figure out what you like, don’t like, colors, styles, and then I’ll start building your wardrobe. Sound good?” Melanie’s smile is contagious.

“Sounds amazing.”

You don’t quite understand every step of the process. At one point she drapes color swatches on your chest like a bib and you can’t help but giggle. But it’s fun, maybe for the first time you can remember. She writes down that you hate side-seam zippers and skirts cut above the knee. That you love color but not too garish. And when you catch Javi pacing outside the glass door to the patio, peeking in anxiously every five minutes, your smile softens. She probably doesn’t write that part down. That’s written on your face. 

You can’t stop twirling in the mirror, inspecting from every angle. You try to scrutinize, but you can’t find a single thing wrong.

It’s perfect.

After the wardrobe cleanout, the basics overhaul, and the lengthy plan Melanie made, she asked a thrilling question. 

“What’s the first piece you’d like me to find?”

“I’ve always wanted a little black dress,” you replied, and her smile almost eclipsed her face.

“I have the perfect one in mind.”

She wasn’t kidding. It’s full and flouncy, smoothing in all the places you normally criticize and accentuates your figure in the best ways. The fabric is sumptuous under your fingers, just the right weight without dreaded sheerness. You can imagine yourself with hair done up, your favorite lipstick, Javi’s hand on your lower back, that possessive glint in his eyes. All of the excitement makes you spin three more times, the room tilting briefly before you catch Javi standing in the doorway.

“Hey!” you call out breathlessly, smoothing the skirt again. “It’s the first thing Melanie’s sent over. I…oh my god, I love it so much.” You turn to look in the mirror again, and in the reflection you see Javi’s mouth parted, eyes dragging over you. His fingers are rubbing together at his sides and…is he clenching them?

“She took everything I said and just found the most perfect dress.” Your thumb catches in the fabric and you spin back around to gasp, “And it has pockets!”

You’ve barely taken your hands out of them when Javi is on you, all greedy mouth and firm hand on the back of your head. His tongue demands on your lips, slipping inside when you gasp for him. Arm banding around your back, he steadily walks you backwards towards the bed. 

“Conejita, mi amor, eres tan hermosa,” he pants, his wandering hand settling on your ass and squeezing. It crackles between your thighs, white-hot arousal at how he holds you. Javi has always been generous in bed, and highly competent, but this is a side of him you haven’t seen. Maybe briefly when he asked you if someone bothered you at that awful boutique store. 

Before you can rationalize anything further he guides your hips down to the bed, teetering on the edge. He quickly drops to his knees and dives his hands under the skirt, sliding one knuckle along the seam of your pussy. 

“Javi…” you squeak out, but his touch leaves to curl around your underwear and yank them down your legs. The rip of a seam makes arousal gush between your legs, spreading them instinctually. He licks his lips before fisting your skirt above your waist and ducking down to taste you for too brief a moment. Your hips buck, teeth nipping at your inner thigh before he lifts up to kneel between your legs. 

“Javi, the dress,” you caution, and with a sweeter smile he shifts his knees to make sure the fabric isn’t trapped between. When his eyes meet yours again he plants a hand by your head and laps between your lips, slow and sensual. The clink of his buckle coming undone aches deep in your core, fisting his button-up across his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry, Conejita, I just…cannot control myself when you look so beautiful,” he confesses as his fingers tease at your entrance. A choked whimper ekes out as he opens you up on two, pumping mercilessly into your clenching heat. He swears in Spanish into your neck, and your quiet whines grow to moans when his thick cock begins thrusting into the crease of your hip. His panted breaths start to take on a rumble, then a growl as his fingers match his shallow thrusts. Overwhelmed, you grasp at what words will make him give in.

“Javi, please, oh my god, please fuck me,” you finally manage, rocking your hips with his frantic pace. 

“You’re ready for me?” he husks, your vociferous affirmations drawing his fingers out to leave you achingly empty. He slicks his cock with you, lining up and pressing just the head in before he plants his hands by your head and just…looks at you.

“Dios mio, eres una diosa,” he breathes, all of the sweet man you love. Grabbing around his wrists, you roll your hips down to sink more of him inside. He stretches you so deliciously, filling your cunt and lungs.

“Take it, Javi,” you rasp, head tossed back. “Show me I’m yours.”

Javi bites his lower lip and looks at you with a depth you crave. Infatuation and devotion and a desire so hungry you want to sate him for hours. In a dizzying flick of his wrists he now presses yours into the bed. 

“Mine,” he purrs, and the snap of his hips as he buries himself flush draws a lusty cry from your lips. “My beautiful Conejita,” he grits out, grinding his hips deep to press punishingly into your g-spot. You writhe under him, legs clamped around his waist as he slides out just enough to punch back in. “You are mine, aren’t you?”

“Oh fuck, Javi, yes, I’m yours,” you beg, and it’s exactly what he needs to begin fucking you earnestly, scooping his hips to drive deeper and deeper. The friction of his grind strums your clit just right to tremble around him. Pinning you with a rumble, he fucks you into the mattress until his wandering hands can’t stop from palming your breast, rolling your nipple through the fabric. The spike of pleasure urges you to meet him stroke for stroke, riding him just as hard back. He grabs your chin just firmly enough to coax more slick to coat his cock, guiding you back to his demanding mouth. He steals your breath, sucking your lower lip between his teeth and groaning when you shudder around him.

“Not going to last, mi amor,” he whispers, lacing your fingers together as his thrusts lose rhythm. 

“Cum on my pussy,” you plead, and with a strung-out moan he pulls out just quick enough to cover your mound with his hot spend. It drips lewdly, sliding to gather in the crease of your thighs. His eyes are fixated on it, the brand of his lust sticky on you. Your orgasm tips over as he slides his thumb through his cum to press firmly on your clit. His name is all you can manage as pleasure laps over your skin, his touch grounding as he praises you over and over.

In the afterglow, Javi folds the length of your skirt well above the mess he made. 

“I will be sure to send this to drycleaning before you want to wear it,” he says, pulling a juddery giggle from your chest. He stands oh shaky legs and you glimpse his wet cock in the vee of his open pants, realizing you just fucked like college kids so horny for each other they couldn’t even undress properly. It makes you giddy as he brings over tissues to clean up, careful not to leave any of his spend where it could stain. When he’s finally satisfied he drops down on the bed, opening his arms for you to snuggle into. Once fitted together, eyes heavy, he murmurs in your ear.

“It wasn’t the dress.”

You hum sleepily, sitting up to look into his sated face.

“You are most beautiful when you are happy,” he says, the earnestness earning him another sweet kiss.

“I am very, very happy Javi.”

He doesn’t need to tell you that he is. It’s written on his face, and in his heart. 

END

[grogusmum]

IRL

Part 3 @han_shot_first

JAVI X F!PLUS SIZE!READER

SUMMARY: Set before the events of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. Javi and Reader are friends online, and after a year of DMing they decide to meet. (The only change is Javi and Gabriela are just friends)

WORD COUNT: 1800ish

WARNINGS: Reader has insecurities about her size and appearance. Javi is adorable, be warned. Things get spicy.

Part 2

“Girasol,” he whispers; voice husky. Your knees go a little watery not only from the want in Javi’s voice for you but for the sweet nickname, sunflower.

His warm, plush lips taste your mouth, chin, and neck. Tickling behind your ear, you had never kissed anyone with a mustache or much facial hair. It tickles and rasps over your soft skin deliciously, especially your neck, causing your shoulder to jump with a smiling gasp. 

Being pressed against the wall was also new to you like this gorgeous man can't get enough of you and needs to be as close as he can possibly get. One hand is cradling your jaw; the other travels from your hip under your sweater, where he has found that the dress is sleeveless. He hums, pleased by his discovery. You try not to feel emotional and keep the thought - thank you. Thank you for being attracted to me, even though… inside your head. But it brings up some tears that you blink away. 

The moment you open your eyes, the lights flicker, signaling you to return to the theater.

“Javi?”

“Hmmm?” He murmurs, distracted by devouring your neck.

“The next film-”

He pulls away as the lights flicker again. 

“We will pick this up back at the hotel,” he rumbles. 

Javi takes your hand and leads the way to the theater. Since you are among the last to sit, Javi looks and tugs you toward the back of the theater. He noticed your glassy eyes when he pulled away. He wonders if he overstepped.

After you settle into your seat-

“I'm sorry,” Javi looks at you with his puppiest eyes.

“For?”

“Well, I- for,” Javi struggles. “ Maybe I was too forward, and now we don't have good se-”

You smile; Javi really is the sweetest.

“Javi, I have never been so turned on in my life,” you murmur in his ear, and his face breaks into a broad smile, his eyes dancing. 

While the rest of the day flies and is more fun than you've had in a long time, every once and a while, you get a little in your head when hobnobbing with “the beautiful people.” But somehow, Javi seems to feel it every time, and he brings you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, murmuring a sweet check-in.

Online, late at night, you would talk and talk, and you thought you felt a tension in the last month before planning to meet, but you always half-heartedly dismissed it. And when you saw his picture, you wholeheartedly dismissed it. How can someone like him…but here you both are. He doesn't even see the other women. Javi has at least one hand on you at all times. Holding your hand or on your thigh with his thumb chasing little circles during the films and Q&As, his arm wrapped around your waist during intermission. This new layer to your relationship is exciting, if a little scary. 

All you have been thinking about since the alcove is getting back to the hotel, but as Javi checks you both in, your traitorous brain starts to race; you know Javi is a good guy, he would never just presume, and if you put on the brakes he would respect that…but now that it's here. It's not that you don't want to; you want to, by the gods, do you. But what if he doesn't like what he sees when you are, quite literally, laid bare?

Javi returns with the key cards, his stomach knots in new and exciting ways. 

“It's a two-bedroom penthouse suite,”he murmurs, primarily to his feet. He can feel the tips of his ears going hot, “I got them before - but you know, if you don't - I mean, if we-”

Javi doesn't know what you are thinking. But he can easily see the anxiety scrawled across you. But he doesn't know what has you in this state—

Watching him, you can see his effort. To keep you comfortable, respecting your boundaries, and he keeps showing you he is attracted to you, all of you.

So you tell your liar of a brain to shut up for once, and your first finger goes gently under his chin, tipping his head to look at you. 

“Javi? Please take me upstairs.” 

This is when Javi’s brain short circuits.

The penthouse is, of course, gorgeous, just as Javi hoped. There’s a fireplaced living room, with the spread of chocolate-covered strawberries, soft cheeses, warm crusty bread, and the champagne he asked for on a coffee table. 

“Javi! This is, does this just come with penthouse suites or…”

“There are always, well, ‘amenities,’ but um, I asked for your favorites.”

“When?”

“As soon as you said you’d come to visit.”

“But-”

“I know it was a little bold of me, but I - sort of had this big plan to try to win your heart this weekend. But like I said, I got two rooms, I wasn’t, you know, ‘expecting something’,” All of this comes out in a rush, but Javi takes a breath and slows down, his eyes taking in your lovely face.

“‘Han Shot First’, I’ve been having feelings for you for a long, long time.”

It's your face’s turn to warm, as romantic as his nickname Girasol is, as beautiful as it makes you feel... There's something about him using your url handle at this moment - the name he knew before he had seen your picture… You fling your arms around him, and without hesitation, his mouth seals to yours. His hand goes to your cardigan, peeling it off. Before you can have another wave of anxiety, the groan Javi lets loose as his hands run up and down your upper arms and around your back settles your qualms. He presses you as close to him as he can without occupying the same space, thus defying the laws of physics.

“Girasol”, Javi murmurs. “I can't believe how lucky I am.”

His hands rove your back, hips, and backside. You keep beating back your traitorous brain, so you can just enjoy how this feels. He likes everything he's touching. 

One of his hands comes to the side of your face, holding you tight in his kiss. 

“May I undress you?”

Javi begins unbuttoning your dress, his hands so sure at every button. He pulls back the top of the dress off your shoulders, and his needy kisses travel from one to the other, stopping to enjoy your collarbones and the hollow of your throat. Then he lets the dress fall, a circle at your feet. You slip his blue blazer off his shoulders and start unbuttoning his shirt. You peek back at his face to see adoration.

You nod, and the look he gave you in the alcove returns causes a pleasant zing in your lower belly.

Javi becomes impatient and brings his arms hurriedly out of his sleeves, and pulls you against him once more, his arms wrapped around your waist. With urgent kisses, he walks you backward until your calves hit the bed. 

Giving a yip as you drop onto it, a nervous giggle bubbles up, and you take a breath, eyes closed. Mirroring your action in the lobby, Javi's curled forefinger gently lifts your face to him.

“I am enamored with every inch of you, Girasol. Every last inch.”

Against your will, your eyes swim, so that is where Javi decides to start in his worship. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brush the tears away. Pressing kisses to your cheeks. 

Your hands rest on his narrow hips as you look up at this beautiful man, this silly, passionate, delightful man.

He wants me, you think, all of me.

Your hands travel up his sun-kissed torso, the sweet curve of his belly, but just as your hands settle on his chest, he has your shoulders, pressing them to the bed. And this was that moment you feared, laid out on the bed. Suddenly Javi’s got you behind your knees with those enormous paws of his, and with a quick and decisive pull, he's got your ass at the edge of the bed and thighs over his broad shoulders, and you can feel his breath at your core. 

“Javi!” Breath quickening, you are pretty sure you almost came from being moved like that; you don’t get “thrown around”

Javi's hands run up your thighs, his thumbs massage the crease where your hip meets them  -

“Did you like that, Girasol?”

💚 THANKS FOR READING 💚

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

If you enjoyed this fic and would like to read for Javi or any of my works, click the link to my masterlist. If you would like to get tagged for any of my fics, click the link to my taglist form.

[wordywarriorwrites]

Feels Like Home

Feels Like Home | AO3 | Rating: M | Main Masterlist​

Pairing: Javier Peña x F! Reader

Summary:  They say you can't go home again, but maybe for you and Javi, home isn't a place - it's a person.

Warnings: NSFW. Smut. Language.

Getting Chucho Peña back up on his feet after a bad fall from the hayloft – that was all you’d been tasked to do.

But you hadn’t considered the prodigal son.

You hadn’t thought about all the ways dark, earthen eyes – eyes that had seen too much – could be so compellingly, devastatingly, hauntingly preoccupying. Hadn’t really thought of how the stories of this larger-than-life individual would pale in comparison to the actual person. Hadn’t really believed that this man and this town would get to you, become so much a part of you that you’re thinking about rejecting a career-changing offer that would see you moving on to bigger (though perhaps not exactly better) things.  

Four seasons have passed, and yet, you haven’t felt the itch to pack a bag and hit the road. And because you stuck around, Javi, Chucho, and you have become los tres amigos. Reading books and watching Cheers. Exchanging cards and gifts on birthdays and at Christmas. You host dinner at your place once a month. Javi occasionally pops in during your meal break at the hospital to bring you something decent to eat. And sometimes, his dad will call you nenita – a term of endearment that feels far too precious to be directed toward a drifting, wayward soul like you.

It’s hard not to mull over the what-ifs – especially with how Javi looks beneath the sparking lights of the convention center. Exuding confidence, chit-chatting, and mingling with your coworkers like a pro, all understated power and authority. He stays still while everyone else gets pulled into his orbit, revolving slowly around him, like planets circling the sun. He steers you in that way, too, pulling you into his atmosphere, making it painfully impossible to keep your gaze averted from the fine figure he makes in his charcoal gray suit.

This isn’t the first fundraising event he’s escorted you to. In fact, he’s graciously played the role of plus-one several times. Haughty conversations, dry chicken dinners, watered-down drinks, and office politics – he’s been there and done that. And for a man who says he hated it, that he’s left all that bullshit behind, he’s really good at it, reading the room and owning his space within it better than most of your puffed-up peers.

It’s difficult not to admire him. Get attached to him. To feel as if you’ve made a real, true friend. You don’t have many of those and neither does he. It’s as if you’ve somehow been chosen. That out of all the people in the world, he’s picked you.

Bowling on Thursdays. The little snort that sometimes escapes when he laughs. His gentle manner with horses. The scent of his cologne; a blend of leather, wood, and oakmoss. The way he always refuses dessert, but somehow, ends up finding room for two servings, especially if it’s your homemade peach cobbler. His shoulder – the one you lean on when you nod off during a football game. His arm – the one you grip during scary movies. His ear – the one he lets you talk off when the day has been too hard and too bloody, and you can’t fall asleep.

If you leave, you lose it all. You lose him.  

“Is it just me,” Javi prompts with a slight nudge, turning away from the inner circle and leaning in close to speak directly into your ear. “Or are all the doctor jokes really fucking terrible this year?”

His voice – low and amused – cuts through the chatter and clinking cutlery, guiding you out of the spiral of dark thoughts and back into the present. You glance up at him and wonder if that inquisitive, clever mind of his has worked out how you really feel and uncovered what you really think. And if he knows, has he just been too polite to say anything? Even if it’s only to let you down gently?

“Maybe you should teach them a thing or two,” you manage to quip, burying your emotions by taking a rather undignified gulp of merlot.

Javi snorts and shakes his head, “With their egos? Not likely. Look, can we get outta here? Go get some real food?”

You nod, placing your now empty wine glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and snagging your purse up from the table. Javi is quick to take your arm and the lead, guiding you both through the throng and a seemingly endless stream of polite farewells. The elevator, the parking garage, the drive-thru – none of it really registers. It’s not until you’ve fallen into the cushions of your couch, a heavy bag of tacos in hand, and two beers on the coffee table in front of you, that your brain gradually starts to come back online.

“M'starving,” Javi announces, snatching up the takeout bag and plopping down next to you. “Remind me next time to eat before I pick you up.”

He peels off his jacket. Kicks off his shoes. Wriggles his sock-covered toes into the plush carpet and sits forward on the cushion just far enough to reach the table. Large, deft hands drop napkins – one onto your knee and one onto his own – and then, he’s unfurling paper and distributing a half dozen oversized carne asada taquerias onto two paper plates. A brief pause. A rather ferocious bite. A long, low groan.

“Fuck me, that’s good,” he mumbles, cheeks puffed out and comically overfilled.

“Emily Post would not be impressed,” you teasingly chide.

Javi grins and juts his chin, “Hey, get my tie? It’s the one you got me for my birthday, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

Once his messy hands are out of the way, you do as he asks, working the knot free and slipping the silk off with a careful tug. You pop a few buttons for him, too, and he gives you a nod of thanks before digging back in with renewed gusto, washing it all down with long pulls on his beer.

You don’t know how he does it, but his steady, calm demeanor always manages to soothe you. You unclench your jaw. Relax your shoulders. Even eat with him. Once the food’s devoured and the mess is cleaned up, you offer him a nightcap that promises to be better than what he’d been served at the fundraiser, and he happily accepts.

With tumblers in hand, the two of you migrate out to the patio. Javi is quick to indulge in his after-dinner smoke, bringing flame to paper-wrapped tobacco with a practiced flick and inhaling deeply. He fills his lungs with nicotine a few more times before turning his attention to his glass, bringing it to his nose before taking a slow sip.  

“Dios mio,” he appreciates aloud. “What is this?”

“Macallan,” you tell him.

“That’s damn good whiskey.”

“It ought to be for five grand a bottle.”

Javi chuckles and lets out a low whistle, “You lift it off a truck or something?”

“It was a gift,” you admit, taking a seat on the outdoor bench. “From Brad.”

He blinks slowly, “Your ex?”

You nod and shrug slightly, “Bastard always did have good taste.”

Javi doesn’t pry – he just smokes and paces, seemingly content for you to either share or plead the fifth. You take a sizable gulp for courage and finally tell him about Alaska, about the brand new, state-of-the-art facility, and what an opportunity it is. You explain the position. Tell him it offers better pay and an extremely generous housing stipend. A year there, maybe two, and you’ll have your pick of any hospital you want to work at going forward.

Brad’s presence, his role as department head, his status as your ex-fiancé, the wholly inappropriate “welcome gift” he supposedly sent on behalf of the entire staff – a gift you’re certain was pilfered from his dad’s private collection – none of it matters. You’re going there for work because you go where you’re needed, nothing more.

“Got the papers inside,” you say quietly. “Just gotta sign ‘em.”

Javi curses. Drops the butt of his cigarette into the remaining inch of whiskey. Sets the glass down a little too hard on the window ledge. It’s tense now, the air between you, the atmosphere filling with acridness neither one of you is accustomed to. He rolls his jaw. You tap your nail against the tumbler. Javier runs a hasty palm over his mustache and then, much to your surprise, he sits down next to you.

Your glass is taken and hastily put aside. Slowly, carefully, as if giving you the chance to pull away, Javi slots his fingers between yours. When you don’t protest, he holds on tight and brings your knuckles to his lips. His palm pressed to your palm; he lowers his head until his furrowed brow meets the back of your hand. It’s so achingly, intimately tender, so unexpected and jarring, that makes your eyes well.

You swallow hard and clear your throat, “Look, Javi, I’m –”

“Don’t,” he interjects with a slow, purposeful shake of his head. “Just… Don’t.”

The moment stretches, unbearable with the weight of the unknown, all nerve-wracking and heady at the same time. Javi eventually looks at you – eyes searching and examining and questioning. Head slightly tilted, a wayward chunk of his hair tumbles out of its’ carefully coiffed place, and you don’t consider your actions when you take back your hand to carefully brush it off his forehead.

“I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs.

You frown and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “I don’t want to, either.”  

Javi’s fingertips brush your forearm, and when he leans forward, you meet him in the middle. Your mouths join. Lips brushing, breath stolen and returned. The two of you are traversing unmapped and uncharted territory, but it’s so easy. It's as if you’ve been touching like this, kissing like this, for such a long time.

All languid and unhurried until he licks into your mouth, coating your tongue in hints of vanilla, nutmeg, and smoke, and then, you’re both in pursuit of more. Tripping over each other to get back inside. Both of you going for his belt, and then, your underwear – no finesse or thought of the bedroom just steps away because the couch will work just fine.

Knees sunk into the cushions and cheek mashed into an armrest. Heels kicked off and the skirt of your ankle-length dress tugged up over your hips. Javi explores and discovers you from behind, tongue tasting the unmistakable evidence of your desire, and fingers stoking the flame until you’re begging him to put you out of your misery.

“Condoms,” you croak, gesturing blindly. “In my work bag.”

A low growl. Nips and licks and sucks to the back of your thighs, the curve of your hip, the rounds of your shoulders. You’re melting to the floor, rolling into your back, eyes barely able to focus as he snatches up your battered canvas tote and upends it, the contents spilling out messily and noisily across the carpet.

“Preparing for an orgy?” he teases, letting the line of rubbers unfurl above your head.

“Shut up,” you sass, nudging his thigh with your foot. “You know I had to teach that sex ed class today.”

“Did the hospital supply bananas?”

“Actually, it was cucumbers.”

Javi laughs. Tears open the package. Rucks up his shirt. You watch, gaze hooded as he slides the rubber on. You toss out a compliment to his technique, and he flushes, all hasty to push your legs apart and make room for himself between your splayed thighs. 

“It’s been – I haven’t done this in a while,” you admit, bravado lessening slightly.

Javi clicks his tongue, thumbs making small circles on your kneecaps, “Me, neither, cariño. Been saving myself for you.”

Your spluttered laugh brings out his hidden dimples, and then, he kisses you. Smiles gradually fade, amusement giving way to urgency, prompting you to reach for him, guiding him until he’s slowly sinking into you, filling you. And it’s a snug fit, but it’s just right, and when Javi rocks his pelvis, you’re remade. Suddenly cast adrift, in search of an anchor, you dig your fingers into his hair. Seek out his shoulders with your hands. Follow the curve of his spine and twine your legs around him just so you can feel the way flexes and stretches into your touch.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. “Javi, please… Please, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he promises against your throat. “You feel so good, mi corazón. Feels like you’re mine. Like you’ve always been mine. Fuck.”

His words thrum through you, wreaking havoc, curling your spine, bringing even more heat to your cheeks. There’s no hiding the way your legs are trembling, no stopping your body from bearing down, from clenching hard, from trying to keep him deep inside for as long as possible. His name spills out from your lips like marbles on a wooden floor, the reverent mantra smothered only by his mouth seeking yours.

“Say you’ll stay with me,” Javi demands, teeth nipping your chin.

You nod frantically, “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay with you.”

In possession of you, of your agreement, Javi’s hold becomes unforgiving – fingertips digging into the meat of your hip and the nape of your neck. His thrusts turn pointedly devastating – retreating and surging forward, all precise and measured, purposeful in the way he seems to take control, bringing you to orgasm for the third time with a broad, self-satisfied smile that isn’t as humble as he probably thinks it is.

When he finally comes, he buries himself to the hilt, hips stuttering, stubble rubbing against your cheek as he muffles his groans of pleasure into the crook of your neck. As the two of you lie together in the afterglow, his head pillowed by your breasts, your arms and legs wrapped around him, breaths slowing until they match, the truth of you, of him, becomes undeniably clear.

Home isn’t a place. It’s a person.

And you’ve finally found each other.

[nerdieforpedro]

The Intended determines their Meaning

Javier Gutierrez x plus size female reader

My blog overall is for readers 18+. MDNI

Word Count: 1271

Summary: Javier is following through on what his team has proposed optics wise. He’s bought her flowers to illustrate their partnership. The twist? The events of tonight lead him to follow a different plan altogether.

Warnings: Plots by PR teams, ghosts for dates, angst if you squint, bad jokes (did I write it if there’s not at least one?), Javi G being charming and adorable, honorable mention of Javi G’s orange/red shirt from TUWOMT (the debate of that shirt’s true color continues this very day)

Notes: An entry for @morallyinept ‘s Jett’s Flora & Fauna Challenge. I was surprised to have an idea for it but it turns out chatting with your friends in Discord gets the juices flowing. Plus my wonderful friend Grace came up with the initial idea and we each wrote our own versions. This one is mine. I looked up the meaning of the red peonies Pedro was holding in that shot of him and Dakota Johnson for “The Materialists.” I don’t know the name of the character so this said Javi G to me.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Gutierrez Masterlist

This was supposed to be their third date. She was everything that his PR team said he needed for optics right now. Not too young, an actress that people recognize if they think about it for a minute and she’s thin. It’s not Javier Gutierrez’s first preference, but she was nice and their teams worked well together. 

At least he thought she was nice until tonight. It’s an hour after they were supposed to have their date. No calls, no texts, no one from her team saying why she’s not here. He’d bought her an ivory vase with two full bouquets of red peonies in full bloom. He figured it would be a good move to bring these as both teams had agreed to make their relationship public after leaking a few photos on instagram. A curious financially beneficial union that should be a happy life.

Javi’s heart isn’t in this, but he’s beholden to the public eye and their opinions. He’d rather date women that had more substance to them, both to talk about and to them. 

He continues to sit and wait, not expecting her to come after this long. Should he just leave? He decides to check his phone one more time before finishing off his third glass of red wine. His eyes gaze forward and he sees her. Not the woman he was expecting, but a woman who he’d truly want.

She’s sitting at a small table that’s a mirror of his, her hair in a updo with small silver clips holding it up. Her dress is a deep violet, off her shoulders with a deep V exposing much of her cleavage. From what he can see, the dress may have an asymmetrical cut as much of her thick legs are exposed. Her face is downcast similar to his. She may have been waiting for someone too. Javi wonders if she was stood up as well. 

Hey, I don’t see a second place setting. Is she alone too? Maybe we can be alone together. If she would like, if the woman my team doesn’t want anything to do with me, doesn’t that mean I should find someone I would want to be with?

Javier asks the waiter to give her another glass of whatever she was drinking. It looked like a red wine, he wasn’t sure if it was one different from his. He watched as she looks very confused and is trying to tell the waiter that she didn’t order anything like that.

“Oh no ma’am it’s paid for. The gentleman over there sent it.” The waiter explains and points to Javier. He gives a small wave with a matching smile. She smiles back and waives but almost knocks over her wine glass. Thankfully, she catches it and none of it spills. She laughs at herself and apologizes to the waiter, he looked like he was going to cry as he had his hands raised like he was being robbed.

Well she accepted, I think I’ll go over. Say hello in person. She seems sweet and fun. God, I miss having fun. Dating was supposed to fun at some point.

“You’re too stunning to not have something of equal beauty with you at the table.” Gutierrez leads with as he stands opposite her at the table. “Order what you like hermosa. They’ll let me know the tab. Enjoy yourself.” His wide smile never left his face as she watched him walk over, and hand her a large bouquet of red flowers. They’re not roses, she’s seen them before and just doesn’t remember the name. 

“Thank you. For the flowers and the wine.” She stands and Javi takes a step back to see the rest of her: wide stomach and hips with the dress indeed has an asymmetrical cut that goes to the top of her thigh. Across her stomach is a rhinestone butterfly, the tops of the wings cup the bottoms of her breasts as he attempts not to stare. Her lips are a blood orange that reminds him of one of his favorite leisure shirts to wear when he’s home in Spain. Thankfully he was looking at her lips when she spoke so he would pay attention. “I didn’t want to eat alone. Did you want to sit with me? What’s your name?” 

“Javier Gutierrez, honored to make your acquaintance. May I know yours cariño (sweetheart)?” He extends his hand and she shakes it, unsure if it’s the wine or maybe that he just happy he’s not alone and she wants him to sit with her. He pulls out her chair for her to sit and pushes it in as she gives him her name in response. Once he sits, he gets settled and watches as she fixes her napkin back in her lap and takes another sip of her wine. Whispering “perfecto!” under his breath. 

They chat over their shared experience tonight of being stood up. It turns out, hers was a fifth date after a month of seeing each other casually. He had texted, saying he wasn’t going to come and that he would call her. She knew that he’d broken up with her then, but she didn’t want to leave yet. The fresh bread was tasty and so was the wine. Javier simply said that his date did not show up and it likely meant the same as hers, the relationship was over. He wouldn’t get into the PR and logistics, not tonight. 

She asked what kind of flowers they were and if it was really okay that she had kept them. Javier insisted, their original intended didn’t deserve them. Not only because she didn’t come but she likely wasn’t going to give him what the flowers truly mean. The other woman had bestowed a more detrimental theme of peonies by standing him up - shame.

“Someone who is willing to leave a person alone like this without explanation, would not give me a happy life.” Javi explains, she agrees and wonders if they have a different meaning for her. 

“I don’t know if I can give you a happy life either. We just met Javier.” Her nervous giggle informs him that his explanation may have been a bit serious given how they’ve come together. 

“For you bonita (beautiful), the peonies do have a different meaning. I was hesitant to come over to the table. It looked like you were waiting for someone too and I didn’t want to intrude but I also didn’t want to miss an opportunity either.” He asks the waiter for a bottle for the table and their soup arrives with more bread. Javier hands her the butter so she can put it on her bread. “I’m also still nervous that I could mess this up at any point. And please, call me Javi. It's been a while since I’ve met someone I’ve genuinely liked so I’m bashful.”

“Quite the charmer you are, Javi. You’re definitely not messing anything up. You’re not the only one who’s nervous. I’m having a wonderful time and we haven’t even made it to dessert yet!” They both laughed at her attempt at a joke and continued the evening. Chatting, eating, drinking and laughing. Relaxed and without a care for them both.

Javier Gutierrez could just be on a date with a beautiful woman, maybe have a second of third with her. Maybe show her his shirt that’s the same color as her lipstick. Maybe find out what movies she enjoys and if he’s seen them, does she like Nicolas Cage movies? If she does, he may just swoon.

So many things and possibilities.

Debaters of the true color of Javi’s orange/red/dash of yellow shirt 👕: @maggiemayhemnj @magpiepills @tinytinymenace @readingiskeepingmegoing @bitchwitch1981

@inept-the-magnificent @tinytinymenace @yourcoolauntie @rhoorl @megamindsecretlair

@soft-persephone @soft-girl-musings @saturn-rings-writes @604to647 @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@trulybetty @alltheglitterandtheroar @connectioneverywhere @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

[sushiwriterhere]

top gun threesomeissance 2023 masterlist

wow y'all!!! i'm so sorry for how late this is but you guys blew me away with each of these pieces. thank you to everyone who wrote, read, reblogged, liked, commented, and just in general encouraged their friends to write. so much love, and i hope everyone enjoyed!! now, in no particular order...... the masterlist:

bradley, jake, x f!reader

Up the Ante - @sometimesanalice Rooster had heard the whispers. He knew what the stories were about- the ones that had followed him and Hangman around for years. You, however, are more than happy to find out for yourself if all the rumors were true.

jake, f!reader, x f!reader's friend

You and Me and She Makes Three - @roosterforme Jake had feelings for you. And that was a problem, because he didn't do relationships. He was going to have to choose his independence over being with you. At least that's what he thought until he was presented with the opportunity to enjoy you and his freedom at the same time. 

bob, jake, x reader

three tender lovers - @sebsxphia bob proposes a solution to jake’s remarks to the marks on bob’s back. all three of you find resolution and something else. love.

(im)Patiently Waiting - @callsign-cacti You and Bob have been dancing around one another for years. Now, with Jake and Bob eyeing each other, you have a plan. Hopefully, it ends with both of them in your bed... or any bed.

mickey, bob, x f!reader

Two Turns Into Three - @foreverrandomwritings You and your boyfriend Fanboy propostion your close friend Bob with a threesome request.

javy, bradley, x f!reader

Merrier the More - @sylviebell Jake strikes out at the bar, but you hit a couple of home runs

javy, natasha, x reader

The Last Unicorn - @thedroneranger Getting caught between Natasha and Javy leads to a unique experience.

javy, mickey, x f!plus size!reader

"It was always gonna end this way" - @briseisgone [no author written summary but!] smut, polyamory, boys being bisexual boys, and a whole lotta fun

beau, jake, x f!reader

The Magic Number - @wkndwlff Beau and his fiancé discover the magic of threes.

[hangmanssunnies]

All Bets Are Off

Summary: When Jake "Hangman" Seresin starts coming onto you in a club, you are convinced it is too good to be true. Your past experiences have taught you that there is only one possible reason this man might be interested. The question exactly is just how much money does he have riding on this bet?

Pairings: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Fem!Civilian!Reader, Minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick 

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: Fluff, shameless flirting, slight angst, drinking, minor cursing, Reader had been hurt in the past, Sweetheart Hangman, besties Hangman and Coyote, bets but none that are actually hurtful.

A/N: Some of this stuff has happened to me, I'm sorry if you relate. I never explicitly say it, but it's implied the reader is plus-sized. We all deserve genuine love from someone, Jake knows that. I love you, so does he. <3 Also, I do love me Javy, I wish I had included him more. I hope you enjoy!

The truth was, in your experience, men considered you a joke. It had been something that happened to you more than a few times. You could normally prevent it, but sometimes it snuck up on you. You wondered why guys thought it was so funny to ask you out on a date. Was it because the idea that they would be interested was so absurd, or was it the embarrassment that they were being made to talk to you? Or maybe it was the satisfaction they got when they rejected you and laughed that you thought it might have been serious interest from them. 

Whatever it was, it was cruel and never got easier to deal with. The feeling it left you with was hollowing. You had enough bad experiences when it came to men that you were always on guard. That was why when the attractive man you accidentally made eye contact with on the other side of the bar winked at you, you instantly averted your gaze, turning your attention back to the bar. 

Later that night, you were weary when you saw the same man and one of his buddies start to approach you and your girlfriends. It was most likely that they were coming over to chat up your friends and potentially ignore you. It didn't really bother you anymore; that was just part of having conventionally attractive friends. You loved your friends; you wouldn't trade them for the world. It was like guys wouldn't even see you when you went out with your friends. The times' men did notice you, it never went over well. So, at this point, you preferred when you were ignored. 

This wasn't the case tonight, though, when the two strangers approached y'all. They were both tall and well built, though not in the overly buff way like bodybuilders were. One of them was wearing a white shirt that stood out against his black skin. The other one, whom you had made eye contact with earlier, was wearing a dark grey button-down. One of your friends engaged them in conversation, and a few others made their way to the dance floor. You, however, dropped your eyes to your drink, swirling it and turning to angle your body slightly away. 

You didn't want to ruin any of your friends' chances with the attractive men, but it was also the girl code to stick together and watch each other's backs. You were half listening to their conversation and keeping an eye on the dancefloor, checking for your friends there. All this while patiently waiting for the bartender to come over and take your drink order. Your friend Lala wasted no time starting to flirt with the one who introduced himself as Javy. Just as you were getting ready to turn back to the bar and make yet another attempt to catch a bar tender's eye, you heard a loud voice over the music directed toward you. 

"What's your name, sweetheart?" You looked up, startled to see the blond man speaking to you. You briefly glanced over your shoulder to see if he was talking to anyone else, but you found there wasn't anyone there. You contained the grimace that threatened to take over your features, instead giving the guy a tight smile. 

"I'm Y/N. What's yours?"

"My name's Jake." He flashed you a bright smile, and part of you wanted to swoon. However, the suspicion in you shut that down quickly. You managed to give him a smile and nod. Lala was still on your other side, heavily flirting with Javy. 

"I saw you from the other side of the bar. I didn't know that they let angels in this club, but I'm sure not complaining." 

The cheesy line did not help you feel more at ease. Instead, you let out a dry laugh and drummed your fingers against the top of the bar. "That's a really funny joke." 

"It wasn't a joke, angel."

You opened your mouth, getting ready to shut down the unbelievably handsome man, who was no doubt out of your league. But, before you could, a hand on your wrist interrupted you. 

"I'm going to go dance with Javy," Lala was telling you now, grinning from ear to ear and wiggling her eyebrows so aggressively you couldn't contain your laugh. 

"Do you still want a drink?" You asked her, but she was already walking to the dance floor, her hand gripped tightly with the stranger she had just met. You shook your head at your friend and turned back to the bar. 

"I would love a drink. Thank you for asking," Jake's voice cut into you, disrupting your thoughts. You were shocked to see him still standing next to you. His job of playing wingman had clearly been successful, not that it seemed a man like Javy needed one in the first place. 

"I wasn't really asking you."

"Well, how about the drinks are on me then?"

"No. Thank you for the offer, though." 

"I insist." This made you sigh.

"Listen, buddy-" You were cut off, though.

"Jake," he resupplied his name like you would have forgotten it in the last minute or so. 

"Right, listen, Jake. Your work here is done. You succeed as a great wingman. Your friend got mine to go dance. So, you don't have to keep talking to me as a distraction or whatever."

The smile he had been wearing while he talked to you fell off his face for a moment. Then briefly, there was an adorable crease that appeared in between his eyebrows. 

"I actually am a great wingman, but what I wanted was —." 

Now it was your turn to interrupt him. "I have some other friends on the dance floor that I am sure would be more than interested. You probably saw them over here earlier. I can even tell you which ones are single."

"Thanks for the tip, angel, but are you interested in dancing?" 

The bartender had finally made their way over to both of you. You smiled kindly at them and started to put in your order for a red dragon. Jake jumped onto your order asking for an old fashioned and requested that the drinks go on his tab.

You narrowed your eyes at the man, shaking your head. You clenched your jaw at the forwardness of this stranger. Before the bartender went to make your drinks, you also asked for three shots of Jägermeister. You glanced a look at Jake, who raised his eyebrows but didn't protest to you adding more drinks to his tab.

The bartender poured out your shots before starting the mix drinks. You threw each shot back one by one, enjoying the caramel herby flavor of the liquor sliding down your throat. Jake didn't take his eyes off of you or the bob of your throat, swallowing, once during the whole process. 

"I will say I am impressed," he told you when you set the last one back down on the bar top. When his old fashioned was set down on the bar followed quickly by your red dragon, he still hadn't left your side yet.

"Do you want to dance?" He asked you for the second time, taking a quick sip of his drink. The two of you drifting away from the bar side. You concede that he definitely was a good actor, or maybe just a smart enough guy to be kind to you. Your friends didn't take it well when men weren't nice to you. 

"I promise you don't need me to take you over there. The single ones are Lala. Which, sorry, it looks like your friend snapped her up. Then there is Kana," you pointed at your friend who was wearing a bright neon pink form-fitting jumpsuit, "and Jamie is too." The finger you were pointing shifted to point at the blonde with long curly hair, who had decided to wear tiny short shorts and a bandana top to the club. 

"I have to warn you, though, you wouldn't really be Jamie's regular type." You took a sip from your drink, feeling proud of yourself. You were also a pretty great wingwoman; just by looks alone, either of your friends would be scoring with this man. When you looked at him again, though, his eyes were only on you. 

"That's nice and all, but you are the one I wanted to dance with, Y/N." Jake had stepped closer to you so that you could hear him over the club's noise now that you two had drifted closer to the dance floor. 

The shots you had taken made it so you weren't able to contain your laugh. "You want to dance with me?" You asked him in-between laughs and lightly hit his arm, shaking your head. That adorable eyebrow crease returned again, making you laugh more. 

"Yeah, I do," he told you seriously. 

"What is it?" You asked, swirling the drink in your hands. "Is it a bet? Or just a joke? Or is your friend Javy really that terrible you need to keep me completely distracted from Lala?" 

"I'm sorry, angel. I don't think I understand."

"I'm not stupid, men like you," you pointed at him, gently pushing your finger into the grey shirt of his chest, not shocked at all to feel firm muscle there. "Don't pretend they are interested in women like me without some alternative motive." You retracted your finger to point it back at yourself.

His mouth dropped open, and for the first time that night in your conversation, you were left with the impression that he wasn't sure what to say. 

"So, if it's a really good bet. I could be convinced to participate, but I really don't feel like being the butt of anyone's jokes tonight." He snapped his mouth shut and licked his lips. His eyes narrowed slightly. You raised your chin a little bit, feeling bold from the liquor with no intention to back down. 

"What kinds of bets have there been in the past?"

"Oh, all kinds of stuff, usually the stakes are money, but it varies what the bets are. One guy, the bet was to take me home and then leave me on the doorstep." You took another long pull from your drink at the memory of that. "Other times, it's to see if they can get my number, and then they sign me up for weight watchers or some plastic surgeons email list. Or they flirt with me all night and then see if they can get away with pawning their tab off on me. There is lots of variation. Not always bad, I guess. One guy was just dared to kiss me for $20 bucks. We split it and called it a night." You were careful to watch the tone of your voice, making sure that you didn't betray how much hurt you had endured before.  

"That is fucked up. I am so sorry." The line of his jaw tightened, and you could tell that he was clenching his teeth. 

"I don't need you to be sorry for me," You snapped back at him. "So if it's not something terrible, I'll play along. But if you just want to get a laugh out of humiliating me, I'll have to say pass and ask you to leave me alone."

"Well, I'm not known to disappoint, but there isn't a bet."

You stared up at his handsome face trying to figure out what sort of game he was playing. He simply gave you a kind and confident smile, not shying away from your prying eyes. Looking at this man, you didn't think it was possible for him to be shy. 

You sigh and shake your head. "Well then, I don't think there is anything I can help you out with, Jake."

"Well, angel, all I really wanted was to talk to you. Dancing was just going to be an added bonus. So if you aren't interested in dancing, at least tell me it's because you are taken."

You shook your head at him, lips turning up at the edges in a small smile. "I'm not seeing anyone at the moment."

"That's definitely a blow to my ego, angel. Single, beautiful, can take shots like a champ, and still doesn't want to dance with me." He clutched a hand to his chest as if he had just been shot and shifted backward on his heels before leaning in close to you again. 

"I find it hard to believe you have trouble picking up girls."

He shrugs and takes another long drink until his glass is empty. "I think I would surprise you."

"Are you trying to tell me that women don't flaunt to your side, vying for your attention, and shower you in affection?" Of course, you were joking, but in the flashing lights of the club, beyond the loud music and the alcohol coursing through your veins, a dark look borderline vulnerable shadowed his face, and it stuck. The side of his cheek indented, and you could see that he was biting it, shifting his weight like he was suddenly uncomfortable. Then the music shifted, and Jake changed with it, falling back into that pleasant neutral look. 

"I think the general consensus is that I'm too much of an asshole," Jake told you, adapting that flirty teasing tone again. You took a moment to tear your eyes off of him and check on your friends on the dance floor, ensuring they were all fine before trying to come up with something to say. 

"What's a hidden talent of yours?" 

"Pardon?" He asked you and leaned in closer like he suddenly couldn't hear you, which made you narrow your eyes but let the action slide. 

"Tell me something you are good at that I wouldn't know from just looking at you."

"I'm pretty good at darts."

"I think I could have guessed that by looking at you." 

"I think you might have a stereotyping problem, angel." 

That startled a genuine laugh out of you, which to your horror, started to drift into the giggle category. Those shots were catching up with you fast. "I'm sorry. You're right. I'll try and make sure to keep my implicit bias under better check. I'll try not to apply any of the stereotypes I have for hot, tall, blonde, funny men to you."

That made him laugh too, and he gently tapped his empty glass against the one you had in hand. "Thanks, Darlin. I was worried we were going to have to send you to sensitivity training."

You bit your bottom lip, trying to keep the giggle in this time. "Well, maybe I just need to be more educated. What kind of things should I assume?"

"Well, I can't speak for all tall, blonde, funny men named Jake," He starts, the grin on his face almost too bright. His eyes, which you couldn't quite make out the actual color of in this club, clearly had a sparkle. "But you could assume that they actually are good at darts, like to read, a quite talented cook, and sometimes they also like to go out on the town with their friends." 

"A few of those things certainly are unexpected."

"What about you? What kind of things should I assume about angels?" 

"If I ever meet any, I will let you know." 

He huffed at you, and his lips turned into a frown that you could almost categorize as a pout. "Oh, come on. I guess I will have to let my implicit bias run rampant then."

"And what would are your biases telling you about me?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He stared at you for a long moment but didn't say anything. His eyes were scanning your face and then briefly flashed over your body, examining the outfit you had picked to go out in that night. You wondered if this was the moment that the shoe fell, that there really was a bet or a joke. That he was about to make some mean joke or assumption about you. Jake surprised you by grabbing your now empty drink glass from your hand. 

"I don't believe in forming opinions based on how people look. Even beautiful angels like you. Would you like another drink?" He wasn't smiling when he said it, but he sounded genuine enough.  

You stared at him wide-eyed and eventually shook your head no.

"Well, if you decide you want another one or do actually want to dance. Don't hesitate to come find me, Darlin." He winked at you, and with both your empty glasses, he made his way back to the bar side. 

You couldn't tear your eyes off of him. You watched Jake give the empty glasses to the bar back and then get a handful of water bottles. You still didn't manage to look away until he made his way back to his group of friends by a pool table on the other side of the bar. There Jake started to generously hand out the water bottles. One of your friends coming back over from the dance floor was what finally got you to refocus on the girls' night you were supposed to be having. 

You didn't talk to Jake again, never working up the courage to go over and take up his offer even though you stole glances at him the rest of the night. For the next month, you would occasionally hear about him because your friend Lala, and Jake's friend, Javy, had started to see each other. She swore it was just casual, but you didn't see it staying that way for long with how much they texted each other or considering that they now wanted all their friends to be friends. 

That is how you found yourself running into Jake again, at a happy hour in a Texmex bar. Lala and Javy deciding to mix the friend groups and introduce everyone over drinks and food while also displaying a ridiculous amount of PDA. He approached you first, sliding next to you at the table you were situated at. The table was on the outside patio while waiting for everyone else to grab their drinks from the bar. 

"Hey Y/N, you are a sight for sore eyes. How have you been?" You were honestly surprised that he remembered you, let alone your name.

"Oh, hey. Hi," you said, giving him a small smile. 

"It's Jake. We met the same night Lala and Javy did."

"No, yeah. I remember you."

"Oh good," Jake says with a pleased chuckle. Then he took a sip from his drink. You were shocked to see that instead of a beer bottle, it was actually a Jarritos. 

"Are you really drinking a soda?" You laughed. 

"What's wrong with soda?" He asked you, quirking an eyebrow and looking at the bottle in his hand. 

"There isn't anything wrong with it. I'm just surprised that is what you ordered at the bar, and not a beer or an old fashioned or something."

Jake tsked his tongue at you and shook his head. "I really am going to have to find a sensitivity and diversity class for you to take. These expectations you have are going to be a problem between us."

You couldn't help laughing at him and rolling your eyes at the joke. "Well, if you see any good ones, make sure to send me a link." That made him laugh. You admired the way his eyes crinkled a little at the edges. 

"I can't say you are completely wrong. As much as I would love a beer, I'll be wheels up in less than twelve hours, so no drinking for me tonight. Plus Jarritos is my favorite soda, I drank it all the time growing up."

You took a sip of your own drink, considering his words. "What kind of wheels?"

His face lit up at the question, and in this light, you could finally see his eyes in the evening sunlight deciding they were green. It was a tough call from blue, but green won over. "Plane wheels."

"Oh, so you are a pilot?" 

"Yeah, officially a naval aviator, but yeah. Javy is too, and a few of the other guys here." He tipped his bottle towards the group making their way out towards y'all on the patio. 

"Wow, that sounds like a pretty amazing job. Tell me more about that."

"Angel, I could talk about flying all night. But I still don't really know anything about you. How about we flip the script, and you tell me a bit about yourself?"

You opened and closed your mouth twice, trying to come up with a response. You couldn't remember the last time a man wanted to learn about you so much that he even set aside the opportunity to talk about himself. 

So this time, you didn't resist answering the questions Jake asked you. You also couldn't control the flutter in your stomach when Jake kept giving you his attention, even after the entire group had joined you on the patio. Finding lulls in the group conversation to ask you something, and more often than not, when you let your eyes drift over to him, he was already looking at you. 

Jake was the first to leave. He stood up and stretched just as it was actually getting dark. "Y'all, I've got to get going, but it's been great. I hope we all get together again soon."

Some of his friends booed him, but it was all playful. He shot you one more look but didn't say anything before making his way out of the patio. Feeling bold, you quickly finished the drink you had and got up as well. You half-heartedly said goodbye, not even really giving anyone an explanation, before hustling out of the door. You caught him walking through the parking lot.

"Jake," you called after him. 

He turned around to face you looking surprised. "Did I forget something, angel?" 

"Yes," you confirmed, drumming your hands against your side. You took a few steps closer so that you were only a few feet apart. His eyebrows creased, and his hands patted some of his pockets, confirming where his phone and wallet were.

"What did I forget?" 

"You forgot my number." It only took him a second to process your words before he was grinning and puffing out his chest a little bit. 

"You are right. I don't know how I could have forgotten that. I'm sorry." Then he is holding out his open phone for you. You quickly type in your number and hand it back to him. Locking the screen, you saw a picture of him with a group of people wearing flight suits, all posed in front of some planes. 

"So, now you have that," you trailed off, not sure what to say now.

"I'll text you, angel." 

You nodded your head, actually believing him, and headed back into the restaurant. Your phone vibrated, receiving a new text message before you had even sat down again.

Talking to Jake was easy. He was a great texter and really funny. He did work long, weird hours, but it was something you were able to live with. It took a week and a half of texting before he finally asked if you wanted to go on a date with him. 

It was supposed to be on another girls' night, so you text the group chat, letting them know you wouldn't be making it that night. Telling them that you had a date. Within a few minutes, you got a call from Lala, a picture of you two stupid drunk from freshman year of college showing up. 

"Hey, Las."

"Omg Y/N, do you have a date with Hangman tonight?"

"Who?" you asked, pulling the makeup brush away from your face and looking at the phone, confused. 

"Sorry, Jake."

"Who the hell is Hangman?"

"Oh, it's just the nickname that Javy calls Jake all the time."

You hummed in acknowledgment. "I'll have to ask him about it. He hasn't mentioned anything to me. He doesn't really like to tell me anything about his work," You trailed off. 

"Well, I don't really think their jobs are like ours."

"No, definitely not."

"So, what are you guys doing? Where are you going?"

"We are going to the Shakespeare festival!" You couldn't fully contain your excitement. 

"Oh my gosh, that is going to be so fun," Lala gasped.

"Yes, I am excited. They are doing Little Shop of Horrors." 

"I'm so excited for you. It's been a while since you've dated."

"It's just a first date, Lala."

"I know, but you're a catch, and Jake is too. I don't want you to get too in your head about it."

"I don't get too in my head about dating," you sigh. 

"Yes, you do. You are always suspicious."

"I'm suspicious because, in the past, I had the right to be. I don't want to be a joke. I can't put myself in that position, again or anymore."

"I know, but Javy says Jake is a good dude."

"You and Javy have only been dating a month," you deadpanned. This made Lala laugh. 

"Yeah, I guess that's true, but it feels different with him. I know it's been fast. It just feels real and right. You know?" She asked you, and the worst part was you thought you might understand precisely what she was talking about. 

"Javy might be a sweetheart, but Jake admitted he was an asshole the very first time we met. So, I'm going to be cautious."

"Okay, girlie, I get it. I love you. Have fun. The girls and I will miss you tonight. I want pictures and text updates on how it goes." 

"Love you too, Lala." 

You hung up the phone and finished getting ready, knowing Jake would be stopping by your apartment any minute to pick you up. When he got there, he had flowers, just a plain bouquet of sunflowers. You grinned at the gift. 

"Thank you so much! These are beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you, angel." 

You clicked your tongue at him but you didn't actually mind the cheesy line. As you go to put the flowers away, Jake stops you with a hand on your arm. "Can I have a picture of you with the flowers?" He asked. 

"Sure," you tell him, a little hesitant but end up posing and letting him take a picture. 

After that, you head to the Shakespeare festival and watch the play. Jake tells you how much his mom and grandma loved the theater. It was something that had rubbed off on him growing up and going with them to all different kinds of productions. He also packed some snacks for you two, as well as a cold lemon orzo salad with feta cheese that made your mouth water. He admitted he made it himself. It was a great date, better than you have had in a long time. Maybe the best one you have ever had. 

At the end of the night, Jake walks you back to your door, acting as a gentleman the entire way. You invited him inside, but he politely declined. Then he leaned in and kissed you. It is everything a first kiss should be, kind, sweet, and a bit too chaste. The moment you tried to initiate more, he pulled away and kissed your forehead before telling you goodnight and leaving. 

You go on more dates with Jake and learn more and more about him. He is funny, generous, and too smart for his own good. He also can be a bit of an asshole, but at least immediately apologizes for it. You made the mistake of taking him on a date where you were mini golfing. That was when you found out he was extremely competitive and very cocky. It was the first time he referred to you as sweetheart in a condescending way, ruining the pet name for you. Before you had even the chance to call him out on it, though, he beat you to it. He told you after that he was sorry and got carried away with the game. He gave you fifteen more apologies than you needed until you finally had to tell him if he apologized to you again you were going to break up with him. 

Another time you go on a double date with Javy and Lala. It isn't a disaster, but you and Lala definitely saw sides to them that you assume are mostly reserved for work. The two might call each other best friend but the smack talk that they were saying while bowling would never give off that impression. That's also when you learn that when Jake has mentioned Coyote, the person he was actually talking about was Javy. 

You finally make an excuse and leave the lane y'all were using and drag Lala with you to get away from the two guys. You two probably take too long using the restroom and grabbing more drinks and food before coming back. Both were sitting, heads pressed close together, having a quiet conversation.

Javy is the first to apologize, "Sorry we got so into bowling. We should have left our competition in the sky." 

"Yes, we didn't mean to be assholes," Jake added. 

You frowned at him, not ready to let him off the hook so easily. However, after him pouting and a few sweet kisses, you let it go. Just telling him that he should be nicer to his friends. He agreed readily enough and was back to being the sweet happy Jake you were used to. Y'all had another round of bowling, much friendlier this time, before calling it a night. 

You and Jake just fit together, and before you know it, you had been dating for nearly three months. There were no major issues, and you were more than a little on your way to falling in love with him if you hadn't already passed over that precipice. The issue was Jake wanted to take things slow. 

It was something that shocked you when the two of you first talked about it. Jake had accused you once again of stereotyping him. He claimed that he was a fine southern gentleman who treated women right. This, of course, led to you squabbling with him that he had just stereotyped himself. It led to another round of discussing what stereotypes you were allowed to apply to him and which ones you weren't. 

The two of you had just spent the whole day at the beach, and Jake was driving home with the windows down and music blasting. He had given you his phone to pick the music. You hadn't been able to shake the grin on your face seeing that his phone background had now changed to the picture of you he took on your first date. 

"Jakers look at the phone," you requested while holding the phone up, trying to get the face ID to activate. 

"The passwords 1969, angel." He told you, pushing the phone away from him so he could focus on driving. Your smile only widened at how easily he gave you the password. 

"Why?" You asked him, opening up Spotify to start queuing music. 

"Founding year of Top Gun."

"You are such a nerd," You accuse him playfully. 

"I might be, but that's a secret you can't go telling people, angel."

"It's too late. I already told the girls about your Kindle and Audible accounts."

"There isn't anything wrong with reading. It's good for your brain," he defended himself. 

"I also told them how you own every single Nicholas Sparks book." He gasped hearing you told that secret and shot a glare over at you. How offended he looked, made you cackle with laughter. 

"It's official. I can never see a single one of your friends again." 

You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything. You continued to look through Spotify and decide on music for the drive. A text message appeared on the screen from "Coyote," and you quickly swiped up on it, in dismissal, not wanting to invade Jake's privacy. However, another one instantly popped up, and you couldn't help but let your eyes drift over the preview. And then Coyote just kept texting. You never actually opened up the messages, but you didn't need to. 

Times up.

You lost the bet big time. 

I expect payment ASAP...

It was like your blood turned to ice in your veins. You had to resist the urge to throw Jake's phone out the window. You took a few deep breaths trying to calm down. You didn't know what the bet was. It could be about anything. You couldn't just assume that it was about you. However, it felt like a switch was flipped in you, and suddenly you weren't sure. Was it possible that Jake had been playing with you all this time?

Logic said no, it had been months. Jake was always honest with you, sometimes to a fault. He texts you good night and good morning every day. You were his phone's lock screen background. If Jake had something to hide, why would he just give you his phone and password? You saw another text appear from Coyote, a small preview showing it was a picture of some kind. That was when you locked Jake's phone, setting it back in the cup holder. 

"Did you queue Renegade?" He asked, none the wiser to the panic sloshing in your veins. You had, actually, knowing it was one of his favorite songs. So you nodded to his question, not trusting your voice. 

You felt the need to get out of the truck and to get away from him, desperate for the chance to recenter yourself.  All your plans for the night now meant nothing, including the plad of coaxing him into your apartment and then the shower. You originally had the intention of washing the sea salt and sand off him, insisting you take a shower together to save water, of course. The dinner cooking in the crock pot and the fresh sheets on your bed were also forgotten. All of it went flying out the window as the word bet was on repeat in your head. 

Three songs passed, and you barely moved, just pressing your hands tightly into your knees and trying to strategize the fastest possible way to escape the truck and send Jake on his way when you got back to the apartment. 

"Angel, what's wrong?" You distantly heard him ask, and your eyes snapped from the road in front of you to his side profile. 

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"Woah, now, don't lie to me." He tossed a concerned glance your way. The two of you were stuck in traffic, and you were silently praying for it to clear up. 

"It's not a lie."

"Are you tired or hungry? Been drinking water? I know we were out in the sun for a long time." His concern was a step too far. You felt the bubble that was building in you snap as you slumped back against the seat. 

"I've been drinking water, and like I said, I'm fine, Jake." He frowned. You saw his brow furrow, clearly indicating that he didn't believe you. 

"You got a text from Coyote," You told him, watching his face carefully to see if you would see any trace of guilt there. 

"Oh really, what did he have to say?" Jake asked, his face not betraying anything to you. 

"I didn't want to read your texts."

"You can read them, angel. It doesn't bother me. If he wants to get drinks tonight, tell him to fuck off. He knows I was spending today with you."

You picked up his phone again and fiddled with it for a moment before typing in his password. You wanted to trust him. You thought you could trust him. However, even after three months, some part of you found Jake too good to be true. In the back of your mind, you were still looking for the explanation of why he would choose to be with you when he could have any girl he wanted. 

"Will you throw Cruise into the queue?" He asked you when you picked up his phone again. You hummed and quickly went to Spotify, adding the song before opening his texts again. You saw a squadron group chat, a few text messages shot off to the contact Rooster B^2 and then at the top of the list, Coyote. A picture of the two of them smiling in the little corner. The chat told you there were five unread messages:

Get absolutely wrecked Hangman. It's the 13th. That's three months! 

Times up.

You lost the bet big time. 

I expect payment ASAP. I'll accept cash only. 

Below that was a picture of some professional basketball player dunking a ball. You started to read the texts out loud, your eyes quickly going back and forth between the phone and Jake's face, not wanting to miss even a micro-movement of his reaction. Right as you finished reading them, another text showed up. You sucked in a rapid breath, feeling your whole chest squeeze tight. 

Better luck with the next girl you think you know the standards for. 

"What's this bet, Jake?" You asked. You tried to have a consistent voice but didn't accomplish that. You couldn't stop your voice from breaking on his name. 

"Fucking Coyote," he hissed, tightening his grip on the wheel, making your heart plummet even further.

You couldn't manage to find words. Instead, you locked Jake's phone again but gripped it so tight you were shocked the screen didn't crack from the pressure. 

"Y/N, it's not what you think," Jake quickly added on, but it was too late. You were already shutting down, starting to feel parts of you splintering inside. 

"I don't understand. I was honest with you. I was upfront that I couldn't be a joke again, that I wouldn't be a bet. That I've been too many bets," You whispered to him. You were questioning every date and interaction now. Questioning every time Jake called you beautiful or his angel. Had he actually meant any of it? Was this the reason he refused to sleep with you? 

Before he could even defend himself, you were talking again. "I don't understand why you dragged this out so long, but I guess I get why you don't want to sleep with me now." You chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. "I would have played along too. You are so charming; that first night, if you had been honest, I would have gone along with it. You didn't have to put in so much effort." 

"Y/N," He said, his voice gentle and deadly serious. You shook your head at your own foolishness, refusing to look at Jake now, preferring to stare at the picture of you on his phone again. You cut him off before he could keep talking. 

"I mean, this was overkill. Spending so much time with me, making me your fucking phone background, hanging out with my friends, double dates. What was the bet, Hangman?" You spat out. You had never once used his call sign since you had learned it. It was always Jake, he had even asked Javy and some of their other friends not to call him that around you. 

"Don't call me that," he immediately responded, his tone hard. Then he softened it and tried again to say your name. You were on a roll, though. 

"Fuck, I knew too, and I ignored it. But, like I always said, guys like you aren't into girls like me."

"No," Jake said. His voice was so cold and hard that there could have been ice on the windshield. You tried to start talking again, but Jake wasn't having it. "Shut up, Angel. It's my turn to talk." He was leaving absolutely no room for negotiation. 

"You were not the bet. You aren't a bet or a joke. And I hate when you say shit like that. You are a million times better than me. You are my dream girl. If I meet one of the fuckers who made you the butt of their stupid jokes, I'll kill them myself. Guys like me are into girls like you. If they aren't, they're fools because I am so into you. 

"I have been into you since the first moment I saw you across the bar, and the lights on the dance floor made it look like you were a literal angel. And there hasn't been a single moment where I stopped being into you. Not even when you tried to pawn me off to one of your friends. Who, by the way, aren't even remotely my type because you are my type. I've been dreaming about meeting someone like you for years. Do you understand?"

You didn't understand, not really. Jake had never been this serious with you before. However, you managed to give him a shaky nod trying to process his words. 

"You put up with me even when I'm an asshole, and somehow I haven't scared you away with my job or my friends. Which is already a goddamn miracle. I haven't wanted to rush our relationship because I've seen guys who rush things just to crush and burn. I'm not going to risk that with you because you are the one for me. I know it."

"What about this bet, and three months and…" You trailed off, still trying to piece together how he was practically telling you he was in love with you and the texts that you read. 

He sighed heavily then, "you weren't a bet, but Lala was."

"What?" you asked. Your own voice hardening hearing your friend's name.

"It's not how you are thinking. It wasn't a bad bet or anything."

"Women should never be the object of a fucking bet Jake. Is that hard for you to understand?"

"No. I just never thought they would make it. That first night when they decided to get breakfast after meeting and hooking up, I bet Coyote that he wouldn't ever make it past three months with Lala. He has commitment issues, and I could tell he really liked her. So, it was more of a push than anything. I knew I was going to lose the bet weeks ago."

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much was the bet?"

"Just $250."

"That's a lot of money. Is Javy just going to drop Lala now that he won?"

"No, absolutely not. Javy is in love with Lala. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to propose here sooner rather than later. Also, that's not that much money. That's like one nice dinner." 

You bit your lip and felt at war with yourself and the situation, trying to decide if Jake had actually done anything wrong. "He needs to tell Lala about the bet."

"Does it really matter?"

"Of course, it matters," you hiss. 

"Okay, I'll tell him he needs to."

"If he doesn't tell her, I will," you warn him. 

"I understand," he confirmed. Then he ran his hand through his hair, which was wild from being on the beach and in the water all day. You wanted to reach over and help pull it back into place but resisted. Silence filled the space between you, filled only by the music playing.

"I'm sorry I keep doubting you," you finally said, breaking the silence between you. He sighed heavily and then held out his hand. You grabbed it, fitting your fingers together and squeezing them tightly. 

"I know you have been hurt in the past. I'm so sorry, you didn't deserve that. No one does, but please don't make me pay for the sins of those men, angel."

You felt tears prickle in your eyes, and you sniffed, holding them back. "You shouldn't have to. I'm sorry if it seems like I want that from you. You are amazing, Jake. I'll try and do better."

"You just have to trust me. I don't think you need to apologize. I don't want apologies. I just want you." 

"I want you too. I've never wanted someone the way I want you. Even when you are an asshole."

This made him chuckle, squeezing your hand in his again. "Well, you've got me." 

Neither of you said anything for the rest of the drive. When you got back to your apartment, Jake did come inside this time. He didn't stop whispering his affections for you or kissing you, not in the hallway, the kitchen, in the shower, or in bed. He made you feel like the only thing in the world that mattered and worshiped you, like you really were divine. Under Jake's hands and lips, you really felt like an angel. Mouthing into your skin that god had sent you to be his salvation in this world. 

Before you knew it, six months later, you were at Javy and Lala's wedding staring at Jake, who looked too ravishing in the tux he was wearing. He was standing in front of the crowd holding a microphone, his million-watt smile in place.  

"Now, I need to preface this story by saying women should never be the object of a bet. That being said, we wouldn't be here today if I hadn't been prepared to lose $250 dollars, or if I wasn't the world's best wingman," Jake started his speech. It made the crowd laugh. It made you laugh. You sipped the drink in your hand, and god, you knew you loved this man. So maybe bets weren't always so bad. 

[pascalscoffin]

Curvilínea

- Curvaceous - Requested by this lovely, lovely person

Full Pedro Masterlist

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. Smut(it’s not crazy descriptive): oral (f receiving); protected p in v (do whatever you want); vaginal fingering; Javi talks about your pussy in the third person (shut up). Curvy/Plus size!reader. Reader uses she/her pronouns, she and Javi are the same age. Reader understands and speaks Spanish a couple times (probably like once). Reader co-owns a bar rather than just being a bartender. Body Shaming warning!! (Please it’s so mean. I had to look it up I couldn’t even fathom something to say. I FEEL DIRTY) I’ll have them in italics or something. Javi being a gentleman. Violence (a couple punches). Mentions of past drug use/abuse. Mentions of ODing. Alcohol mentioned briefly. Physical description of after an OD.

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Co-owning a bar with your best friend wasn’t exactly your lifelong dream, though if you thought about it hard enough you didn’t ever have a “lifelong dream”. Sure when you were young you wanted to be a singer, an actor, a doctor, the president, a race car driver, a scientist, and a slew of other professions but the fascination with them never lasted long and you were hopping to the next ideal job faster than your parents could keep up.

But in college you met Lucy and Eloise, who would become two of your best friends. In your junior year, the three of discovered cocaine at a party, you and Eloise were more weekend or bi-weekend doers. Lucy, though, who’d grown up troubled and surrounded by the stuff, fell in head first. Lucy was always talking about the three of you opening up a bar together, naming it The Lucky Horseshoe, and living together in an apartment nearby.

And then that was the dream, you and Eloise stopped doing coke and fought to get and keep Lucy clean, which got more difficult with each relapse, until eventually Lucy went in over her head and you and Eloise found her face down in her own throw up.

After that, you and Eloise stuck true to your promise, saving up money and moving to Lucy’s hometown of Laredo, Texas to open the bar. She always talked about missing Laredo, so with her ashes, given as she didn’t have any family left besides the two of you, you went to Laredo and bought a small bar. Originally you were going to call it Lucy’s Horseshoe. But when you got the sign it had said Lucky Horseshoe, and considering that was what Lucy had wanted to name it, it stuck.

You and Eloise often worked together on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays since they were your busiest days of the week, one of you typically able to handle it during the week. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, drunk assholes were drunk assholes whether you owned the bar or not, they tended not to care if they were shitfaced enough. Which is why you were trying to politely tell this guy you weren’t interested, but he wasn’t getting the hint.

“Cmon, doll. When you gonna let me take you out, huh?” Don was a regular, every Friday at 8pm he came in and sat in the same stool until close, desperately trying to hit on you. “I don’t date patrons, Don. Besides, you’re drunk.” Don waved his hand at you with a grunt. “‘M tipsy. There’s a difference.” You made a face while you had your back turned, pouring him a glass of water and sitting it down. “Why don’t you drink some water and I’ll call you a cab.”

“Or c’n jus’ take me to your place. Show you a real good time.” You sighed heavily. “What’s the matter? You got a boyfriend or somethin’?” He scoffed, apparently finally agitated with your constant ‘no’s. “No- I don’t have a boyfriend-“ “girlfriend?” “No.” “Husband? Fiancé? Situationship? Anythin’ holdin’ ya down?”

“No, Don, I don’t.” “Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” Don scoffed and you rubbed your hand against your leg. “… I’m just not interested, Don? Okay? I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, you’re a nice guy.. you’re just not my type.” Don leaned back and looked absolutely scandalized by the idea that you couldn’t possibly be interested in him.

“Seriously?” You opened your mouth but he stood up and cut you off. “I come here every god damn Friday, talk to you, try to be a nice fucking guy and take you out for a good time and I’m not your type?” His jaw clenched. “Y’know- I wouldn’t be so god damn picky if I couldn’t see my whole body when I looked in a fucking mirror. Fat bitch.” He ripped his jacket off his chair and turned around, immediately being cracked in the face, stumbling back and then getting hit again, actually falling out this time as OH’s echoed around.

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Javier had decided, since he’s been back home for about a year and he’s now settled back in, that tonight he’d go out and try to dip his toes back into the dating pool. There were no high hopes, really, tonight was mostly just to go out and get a feel for what the pool actually looked like. When Chucho suggested a new bar called Lucky Horseshoe, Javier had been skeptical, thinking maybe it was one of his dad’s old guy bars.

He was surprised to see a nicely decorated bar with great music and even better alcohol lined up behind the bar. He’d looked around, contemplating sitting at a table before deciding he’d sit at the bar, and then there was the choice of sitting on the right of the bar or the left. After two minutes of staring at the bar he decided to sit on your side.

After he sat he took that time to look around and really get a feel for his surroundings, the place was nicely decorated and a look above the alcohol showed him different photos of you, the other bartender, and a third girl, the name Lucy was written in the middle of all the pictures and he imagined the other side of the bar looked the same, a closer look at the backsplash for the alcohol would show the same type of deal, photos of a pretty blonde girl, some photos had you and in the other bartender but most were different photos of just the girl, Lucy he guessed.

He hadn't been sitting there long when you'd strolled up to him, probably about a minute, he ordered a whiskey dry and then you were being called over by a guy who was definitely wasted and probably shouldn't have anymore drinks.

He was having a decent time, chatting up different women or talking about sports he couldn't care much for with guys that sat around him, just getting to know people rather than trying to get to know them. He’d picked up on the conversation a bit, keeping himself tuned in when he picked up on the guy’s persistence.

The guy barely had his insult out before Javier was standing up and walking over. He waited for him to turn around and immediately grabbed his collar with one hand, and hit him square in the nose with the other. He let go of his shirt and watched him stumble before hitting him again, watching him fall to the ground. “Fuck! Dude! I think you broke my fucking nose!” He yelled, blood pouring onto his shirt as he held his face.

“Someone should teach you how to speak to women.” Javier grabbed his collar and yanked him up. “What kind of idle-minded, pathetic Hijo de puta son of a bitch do you have to be to hit on a woman, and then talk shit about her body when she says no?” He growled, turning him and shoving him to the door, taking a step towards him as the kid, Javier could tell now he really was just some kid, probably just turned old enough to drink, way too boyish to go after a woman like you. He stumbled back a bit, holding his nose. “Now get the fuck out of here before I break more than your god damn nose.” He grabbed the guys blazer-gross-off the back of the chair he’d been sitting at and threw it in his face.

His friends, who were smart enough to stay out of the fight, helped their friend out of the bar, yelling that they’d just lost their business, though he figured it wouldn’t be missed very much. Javier found himself following behind them, standing just outside the door as he watched them get into their car and peel away.

He was just about to go back in, make sure you were alright, when he quite literally slammed into you just as you were stumbling out of the bar, holding in your own tears. "Shit- I'm sorry." You stepped away from him and he shook his head. "My fault, I wasn't paying much attention." He looked down at you and cleared his throat. "Are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, npt looking him in the eye as you felt the tears start to well up. You always put. on a brave face when people talked about your body, pretended like it didn't bother you, you'd grown up with the comments so at this point you should be desensitized to them. Yet, still, the comments always bothered you, the backhanded compliments about your clothing from skinny female patrons who had frat boys hanging off their shoulders, "innocently" agreeing with their weekly snatch.

"I'm fine." He didn't seem to believe you, though, his brows furrowing before he gently grabbed your hand. "Come on." He guided you over to pnce of the benches outside the bar and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. You watched him curiously, waiting for him to say something as he put a cigarette between his lips and extended the pack for you to take one, you hesitantly took one and mumbled a soft thank you.

He didn't say anything, though, just put his pack away and lit the cigarette dangling between his lips before reaching his lighter out to light yours. Now that you were actually near him, silent, with no patrons keeping you from admiring him- he really was handsome. A prominent nose with laugh lines crinkling around his dark brown eyes as the flame of the lighter flickered in front of his face.

You looked away from him, though. Just because he punched a guy for body-shaming you, doesn't mean he's interested, he likely doesn't want you ogling him while he's just trying to smoke his cigarette. "Um... why did I have to... sit here?" You asked after a moment. He looked at you and shrugged. "Figured eventually you'd give up the lie and admit that you're not okay."

You blinked rapidly and looked over at him. "Excuse me?" He sighed and leaned forward a bit. "You're not okay." He shrugged a little. "You don't have to be, but... That guys a prick, alright? Shouldn't listen to him." You frowned a little as you pulled your cigarette from your lips, slowly exhaling the smoke from your lungs before letting out a soft laugh. "I don't even know your name and you expect me to just pour my heart out to you?"

You had to admit it seemed inticing, telling him everything that bothered you, because it felt like he wanted to listen, like he wanted you to tell him every little thing that entered your mind. "Javier Peña." You looked down at the hand thrusted towards you and looked back up at him before slowly taking it and telling him your name. He repeated it a time or two and the way it sounded on his tongue made the bottom of your stomach burn.

Peña... that name sounded familiar... "Is your dad Chucho?" You asked curiously, brows furrowed as he widened his eyes. ".. yes. Chucho is my dad." He chuckled. "Didn't realize he was on a first name basis." "Oh, yeah. Chucho's an angel." You laughed softly and sniffled. "So- you're the famous Javi he goes on and on about."

"God- he doesn't." "He does. You should meet mi hijo Javier, he always says." You laughed softly. "He's very proud of you, he loves you a lot." "Uh-huh. What else does he say about me?" You hummed softly. "Sorry, I've been sworn to secrecy." "Oh, have you?" "Oh, yeah. It was a whole thing." Javier snorted a little and shook his head. "Right. So.. he comes here a lot, then?" You nodded. "Definitely. i mean, you don't have to worry about him he really doesn't drink much, I think he just likes the company."

He nodded and took a drag from his cigarette, choking on it with your next sentence. "i also think he really likes talking you up." He coughed violently and looked at you with furrowed brows. "What?" You nodded. "Mhm. Always talking about what a good man you are, how him and your mama taught you how to properly treat a lady. He's had to tell Don off a time or two before." Huh... well played, Chucho.

The old man sure knew how to formulate a plan- and kill two birds with one stone. He knew Don would be there, knew he would bother you, and of course he knew his son would step in and save the day, and if you and Javier just so happened to hit off, then he could stop worrying so much about him.

"Mm I see." Javier nodded. "Well- thanks for letting him hang around." You shook your head with a laugh. "He's sweet, I was more than happy to keep him around." You said happily. Javier chuckled softly and nodded. "Still. Thank you."

You were quiet for a while, the two of you smoking your cigarettes as you glanced at Javier from the corner of your eye. "... thank you for what you did." Javier looked at you and shook his head. "Don't thank me. No one should be spoken to that way." You chewed on your lip. "I should be used to it now, really. I've heard shit like that so much..." "But it hurts anyway." He said softly, making you nod as you reached up to wipe your eye as tears started to slip again.

"Don't cry, mi diosa curvilínea." my curvaceous goddess. He whispered softly, reaching up to swipe under the opposite eye slowly. You laughed lightly and sniffled as you looked up at him. "Well Chucho was right about you being a real flatterer." Javier chuckled softly and tossed his cigarette to the side before taking yours and tossing it in the same direction. "I'm serious."

His other hand came up to cup both of your cheeks. "You shouldn't let a Pendejo like that make you upset. He's not worth it." He rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks. "A silly little boy who resorts to tantrums when he doesn't get what he wants. You're too much woman for him, anyway, he wouldn't know what to do with una diosa like yourself." You felt your cheeks warm up under his hands, a slow grin stretched across his face. "Now- do you think your friend would let you go for the night?"

"W-what?" Javier chuckled. "Would she let you leave? There's nto very many places open at this time of night but a woman such as yourself should be wined and dined- or at least dined." You laughed lightly. "Who says i wanna be 'wined and dined' by you?" You asked curiously.

Obviously you did, you really did, watching Javier knock out Don had started a stur in your belly and the longer you sat there with him the warmer it got, the tighter it pulled. But still, you couldn't just fall right in line, you didn't want him to think you were some kinda whore, especially not after Chucho's told you all kinds of admirable things about him.

Javier tilted his head a bit, his finger running down your cheek and along your bottom lip. "Do you?" He asked softly, his eyes searching over your face before settling on yours. You swallowed thickly and slowly started to nod. "I-I'll be right back." You stood up quickly and stumbled back towards the door, your cheeks burning as you spun around and went inside quickly, over to Eloise.

"Eloise. You know i love you and I would do the same thing for you in a heartbeat- can i please leave with that beautiful, beautiful man outside." Eloise looked up from the glass she was cleaning and widened her eyes. "You whore!" She gasped before looking around at the nearly empty bar. "I can totally handle this. Go, go, go. You deserve it- and I expect all the details tomorrow morning." You nodded rapidly. "Yes, obviously. Okay i have to go now thank you so much and wish me luck with Chucho's son."

As you were grabbing your coat and practically sprinting from the bar, you heard her screech. THAT'S CHUCHO'S SON?! When you stepped out you saw Javier looking at you with raised brows, chuckling softly. "So.. I'm famous around the bar?" You laughed and shrugged. "I told you, Chucho is very, very proud to have you as a son... as he should be."

Javier chuckled and shook his head a little as he started guiding you to his truck. "Whatever you say, Diosa." He looked at you curiously when you stopped. "What about my car?" You looked over towards the run down beamer and he chuckled. "It'll be fine here, I'll bring you back for it in the morning."

You were a little hesitant, your brain momentarily making you consider the fact that this man was very obviously capable, and that going off alone in a car with a man you didn't know was a very bad decision. But something about his eyes, his pouty lips, made you nod your head and smile at him. "Yeah I-I can just come back for it tomorrow." He nodded and guided you towards his truck, opening the passemger door for you to get in.

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The diner was small, warm enough you had to take off your jacket, but not so warm that you were sweating. Javi was sitting in front of you, his elbows pressed against the table. "So I know you're not from Laredo." You laughed and nodded.

"No. No I'm not." "So, where are you from, then?" He asked, you were waiting on your food so you didn't have to worry about a waiter coming over to take your orders. "Las Vegas." Javier's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Vegas? Really?" "Oh, yeah." “How was that?” “Not that exciting, honestly.” You laughed softly and he chuckled.

“Yeah I guess all the drunk gamblers get annoying.” “God and it’s worse if you’re a woman with tits.” You rolled your eyes. “I swear, men get drunk and they think every woman with a pulse wants-“ you blinked rapidly as if realizing you were shit talking men- to a man. “Sorry.”

Javier shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m guilty of the same- except usually the women I come onto actually are into me.” He chuckled softly. “Pretty easy to tell when a woman’s not interested- if you have a couple brain cells to rub together.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Think Laredo might be missing a few.” “Probably.” Javier laughed and nodded.

“So- Chucho suggested the bar but… didn’t say anything about it?” He shook his head. “Nope.” He chuckled. “Said it’d be a good scene for me to go to.” You hummed and nodded slowly. “Guess he was right.” He added. You felt your cheeks warm up as you looked up at him, chewing on your lip lightly. “Huh?”

“Good scene.” Javier chuckled and shrugged a little. “Minus the whole having to punch a guy.” He hummed. You opened your mouth and tilted your head. “I’m sorry I’m-I’m a little lost now.”

Javier laughed softly. “I went out because I’ve been back for almost a year and I still haven’t talked to anyone- female or otherwise.” “He thinks you’re lonely.” Javier shrugged. “He’s not wrong.” He sighed. “I have been a little lonely.”

You raised a brow. “Really?” He nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “My partner at work is… my only friend. As depressing as that sounds.” You blinked rapidly. “Oh… well I know how you feel. I don’t have many friends. Eloise and Chucho, really.” He nodded. “How come?”

You hummed and shrugged a little. “I guess I don’t… like most people honestly.” You laughed softly. “I can be around other people but eventually my social battery just runs out.” “But you’re a bartender.” You nodded. “You’d be surprised how little people actually pay attention to their bartender.” He hummed and nodded like he understood.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You sat and talked with him for what must’ve been two hours, not leaving until the waitress came around to give you your bill and send you on your way so she could close up and go home. You’d gotten closer in the time you were there, Javier eventually moving to sit next to you on your side of the booth, playing with the ends of your hair or the collar of your shirt as you talked quietly with eachother.

And now, you and Javier were back at your apartment, both agreeing you’d rather finish your night somewhere his dad wouldn’t hear. Eloise had even texted you to say she’d stay the night with her girlfriend Cheyenne rather than going home when the bar closed.

You knew Javier was attracted to you at this point, hell you were just as attracted to him. But that didn’t stop the anxiety you felt building in your stomach as you sat on your couch, gripping a beer bottle tightly in your hands as Javier looked at you, leaned back against your couch. You weren’t ever really insecure about your size, but every once in a while the harsh words would get to you and you’d be left floundering for the confidence that once radiated.

“Come here, Diosa.” He said softly, holding his hand out to you. “You’re so far away. Me siento solo aquí.” I’m lonely over here. You felt your cheeks warm up and hesitated before grabbing his hand and sliding closer to him on the couch. “Are you… sure you-” “don’t be silly.” Javier chuckled softly and leaned forward to set his beer down before grabbing yours and sitting it down also.

“I’m not a little boy, Hermosa.” He turned to you and brought his knee up onto the couch so he could look at you head on. “You’re all woman.” He hummed happily and licked his lips slowly. “And I don’t shy away from a woman like you.” He kissed your cheek lightly, and then your neck. “Just more to love, hold, kiss.” He mumbled softly before bumping his nose against yours. “But if you’re not up to it we don’t have to do anything. Just sit here and talk.”

You looked up into his eyes and blinked rapidly, chewing on your bottom lip before you leaned in and kissed him quickly. He hummed, happily kissing you back as one hand cupped your cheek and the other curled around your back and pulled you closer to him.

It wasn’t long before you were laid back on your bed, looking up at Javier in nothing but your bra and panties as he ran his eyes over you. You felt yourself getting shy again, shifting and moving your hands to cover your stomach. Javier was quick to grab your wrists, though, gently tugging your hands above your head. “Don’t.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck before making his way down, stopping briefly to press kisses and slide his tongue along your stretch marks, making you shift and your face and neck heat up.

“Eres hermosa, Diosa, no necesitas cubrirte. Demasiado hermosa para eso.” You are beautiful, Diosa, you don't need to cover yourself. Too beautiful for that. He whispered as he got between your legs, looking up towards you as he slid your panties off. You swallowed thickly and mumbled a shy thank you as he tugged your panties off and tossed them to the side, groaning at the sight of you, wet and pretty and waiting. “Been wondering all night what she looked like- tasted like. Gonna let me taste, Diosa?” He looked up at you again, brown eyes big and pleading and how could you say no to that?

You gave him a rapid nod, shifting as you spread your legs further. “Please.” You whimpered softly, chewing on your lip as he grinned before he was diving down. He started with gentle kisses pressed to your labia before spreading them and pressing a kiss to your clit. Your eyelids fluttered and your head fell back as you moaned softly.

You’d been with quite a few men, but it had been a while so you were feeling a little desperate. When his tongue reached out and slid through you, you gasped and moaned a little louder, tangling your fingers in his hair as he started massaging your clit with his tongue, moaning against you as his eyes closed.

He let go of your labia so they closed around his mouth as he sucked on your clit, one of his hands traveling down to prod lightly at your hole before guiding two of his fingers into you slowly. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened as you shuddered and moaned, pressing down on his fingers. “Javi..” you chewed on your lip as he started fucking you steadily with his fingers, his other hand coming up to play with your breast and twist your nipple.

He hummed against you, massaging your clit as he sucked on it, his hips pressing into the mattress as he started moaning. “Joder, qué bien sabes, Diosa. Tomando mis dedos tan bien, también.” Fuck, you taste so good, Diosa. Taking my fingers so well, too. He pulled away to speak, panting heavily as he pushed a third finger into you, licking his lips. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off with a loud moan when he dove back in, curling his fingers directly into your gspot this time, massaging the bundle of nerves as he continued licking and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck- Javi- Javi please.” You whimpered, tugging on his hair as you looked down at him, lip trembling. Javi hummed against you and pulled away again. “Please what, sweetheart? Hm?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to your thigh as he continued fucking you with his fingers.

“Necesito que me folles, Javi. Quiero tanto que me folles...” I need you to fuck me, Javi. I want you to fuck me so bad... you begged him, whimpering softly. “Please.”

Javi hummed softly and kissed your cheek gently. “You’re so pretty when you’re begging.” He teased, sliding up to kiss you softly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself, which wasn’t something you cared much for in the past, but when it mixed with Javi’s saliva it had you trembling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You weren’t sure how long you’d been going at this point, but the sun was coming up and you’d only stopped once for about ten minutes to get water and catch your breath. You didn’t think it was possible for you to cum anymore at this point but you could feel that familiar coil building up again. You’d lost count of how many times you’d cum.

“J-Javi-“ your voice was hoarse, wrecked and scratchy from screaming his name for so long. Now, though, he was pushing into you ever so gently, grinding his hips at the end of every thrust. “What, Diosa? Gonna cum again? Hm?” He purred softly, pressing harder into you. “Can feel it. She’s squeezing me so hard, baby. Just begging me to stay right here so she can drench me so good again.” He nuzzled your neck, his own voice gruff and raw as he moaned.

You were even more surprised with Javier’s ability to cum so much, not nearly as much as you but definitely more than you’d expect a man to be able to do in a matter of hours. As soon as his hand reached down, pressing just enough into your overly sensitive clit to have you screaming his name and cumming hard around him, your legs shaking and tightening around him as your nails dug into his sweaty back.

Javier groaned and started fucking into you more frantically, hands gripping your hips tightly as he groaned and huffed into your neck, offering a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling into the third condom he’s worn since you started, groaning weakly into your neck as his muscles trembled, breathing heavily.

You laid there for a moment, catching your breath before Javier slowly slid out and fell next to you. He panted heavily and slid the condom off, tossing it into your trashcan with the others. “… holy shit.” You whispered softly, swallowing thickly as Javier chuckled and pulled you close.

“We’ll get up soon to clean up and shower. Pretty sure neither of us can walk right now.” “I’d fucking say. How the hell did you do that?” You looked at him wide eyed as he furrowed his brows curiously. “What do you mean?” “Javi- you came like four times- we used three condoms.” Javier shrugged a little. “Happens when you have a sexy ass girl underneath you.”

Your cheeks warmed up and you shook your head shyly as he gripped your ass and kissed your neck. “Take a little nap. I’ll wake you up soon.” He promised. “This is my house.” “Yeah, well, I’m a cop and I’ll arrest you.” “You can’t arrest me for not taking a nap.” “Failure to cooperate with law enforcement is against the law.” You huffed and pushed his face away before laying your head on his chest. “I should thank Chucho when I get home later.” You heard him mumble before the sleep took over your mind, leaving you unable to respond.

You’d have to thank him yourself, maybe bake him some of those cookies he liked so much. And then you’ll shame him for not warning you that his son was that damn charismatic. Or telling you how to contact him sooner.

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I hope you enjoyed this! Been working a lot lately but I was finally able to finish it!

[pedroshotwifey]

A Real Man Frankie Morales x plus size!fem!reader - Frankie has you sit on his face. (1.2k)

Fucking Mine Dave York x fem!reader - You help Dave get out some frustrations. (839)

One Condition Marcus Pike x fem!reader x Ezra (Prospect) - You and your partner, Marcus Pike, get stranded on an inhabited planet and run into problem after problem. You find yourselves in a compromising position that requires help from a strange man, who comes to you with one condition. (4.9k)

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Salty Sweet Javier Peña x fem!reader - Javi eats you out on your birthday---with a deliciously kinky twist (1.3k)

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Good 'n' Deep Fat!Frankie Morales x f!reader - Fat Frankie can't be sated. (2.6k)

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Needy Sub!Frankie Morales x dom!f!reader - Frankie gives you control for the night and you make sure he gets the most out of it. (1.6k)

Tease Sub!Dieter Bravo x sub!GN!reader x dom!Dave York - You and Dieter think it's fun to tease Dave, and Dave thinks he should teach you both a lesson for it. (2.4k)

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Song fic requests:

Haunted QZ!Joel Miller x afab!reader - Haunted by Beyonce

Requested Drabbles

Want some help on what to request? Try one of these links! (Make sure to specify which prompt list you’re using or I will assume it’s prompt list 1 :)

Prompt list 1

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Prompt list 3

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I am also willing to write for JDM characters (love me some Negan 🤭) , Oscar Isaac characters, Cassian Andor, and Rick Grimes! Feel free to suggest a different character and I’ll see what I can do! ❤️

Small letter about the requests (basically saying that this is a safe space for all of you to request whatever you'd like!)

[orange-demons-deactivated2024]

May I have marriage hcs with Bosch? And possibly what having children with him would be like too? You can ignore the last part if you don't want to write about it 😅

man, this one was a doozy, and it took longer than i intended but i think i'm happy with the result. you may have gotten more than what you asked for this request.😅 this also takes place in an alternate ending from world tour. and a lot of the customs were shortened or else we would've been here all day.

You kinda had an idea what was happening when Bosch kept bugging you about your star sign.

Apparently, his people are big on astrology and he wanted to see if your star signs were compatible.

“Oh? And what if it wasn't” you teasingly said.

“Then I’d still marry you.”

He said that so nonchalantly that you got embarrassed for asking.

Any family you held close to you, blood-related or not, were invited to Nayshall for the wedding.

Yes, that meant the people in Buckler's too, like Luke, Kali, Javi, and Yi Cheng.

He would've had an earful from each of them if they weren't a part of it.

Speaking about family, Bosch would track your parents/guardian down for their blessings.

Bosch to his core is traditional and old school, so a lot of his methods can seem outdated.

But if you don’t have a family back home, he’ll ask Luke for his blessing, since he's the closest thing to an older brother to you.

He didn't have any shame when he was hounding them for it either.

But why would he be? He’s marrying you and Bosch doesn’t think that’s something to be embarrassed about.

No public purposals. He didn't want too much attention on the two of you when he proposed. But he tried to do it while you were both doing something you liked.

You two walked along the waterfront on the edge of the city, enjoying the orange hues that painted the scene.

Life up to this point was calm and peaceful. So it's only natural to want to take the next step in your relationship.

He got down on one knee and clasped both his hands around yours.

It’s a Western custom to purpose in this manner, but he knew you would’ve appreciated it if he did this.

Bosch had nothing but his words and a promise to love and cherish you forever. And that nothing will ever get between him and the life he wants with you in the future.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you threw your arms around Bosch and tackled him to the ground in a tight hug.

You excitedly said yes and peppered his face in kisses, making him laugh at your excitement.

The next step was arriving in Nayshall for the actual ceremony.

He took you to his home and helped you settle down.

Well, as much as you could before his side of the family bombarded you.

You were a bit nervous upon meeting them, but they proved to be warm and welcoming.

When he sees his aunts surrounding you and bathing you with attention he tells them to give you space.

Some of the older relatives greeted you by sticking out their tongues.

Should you do that too?

Your train of thought was interrupted by Bosch. "You don't have to stick out your tongue if you don't want to. It's just another way to show respect when greeting someone."

"How come you don't do it?" You asked.

"I used to, but I phased out of it. Plus, I imagine sticking out your tongue in Metro City is an invitation to get beat up."

"True."

You were also happy to see Yua again.

With excitement on her face, She jumped at you and gave you a big hug.

She exclaimed how happy she was when she heard that you and Bosch were getting married.

So much so, that she told almost everyone she knew.

You thanked her, but sheepishly said you didn't know much about Nayshalli customs. So she offered to help explain everything to you.

If you're stuck, don't hesitate to ask her!

Your friends from Bucklers also showed their support when they arrived at Bosch's home bearing gifts.

Kali played with the younger kids on the streets.

Yi Cheng conversed with Bosch's aunts about the food.

And Javi inquired about the Buddhist scriptures all over his home.

Apparently, he knew a lot because his dad was a monk.

Huh, the more you know.

And Luke was happy to just be there.

His students were getting married, and he thought that was a big enough reason to close the gym for a few days.

His aunts were also fawning over Luke, telling him how handsome he was and if he was single, much to Bosch's dismay.

Your friends and family were also given gifts like food and traditional clothing as an extension of the marriage.

They prepared food for you all to eat after a long day of traveling and games to bond over.

“Alright everyone, clear out.” One of his Uncles said.

“Oh no.” Bosch groaned.

“Huh? What’s happening?” You noticed everyone making their way towards the front of the house.

“Pulling the Groom's ear,” Yua explained. “It’s a farewell tradition that serves as a transition from your family to ours in the form of a mock battle.”

“So like a fight?” You said, following the group.

"Ooh! Let me have at it. I've been waiting for a rematch since our last encounter." Kali stood up, darting to the forming circle outside.

"Ah! Please don't be so rough. They're only allowed to shove and sing." Yua quickly said.

"It doesn't matter. Kali still hasn't learned most of the basics, so she won't be much of a threat either way." Bosch mused, stretching his arms to prepare himself in the middle of the circle with some of his relatives.

Now he’s just throwing fuel to the flame.

"We'll see about that, Lover boy. I've been practicing more with Master Kimberly lately, so I picked up some useful moves from her." Kali tied her jacket around her waist.

"We'll see."

Here we go, You thought as the groups readied themselves.

And true to their word, Bosch and Kali fought it out in the middle of the circle as the men in his family chanted and sang.

"Yua, what's the significance of this?" You asked.

"Oh! This is not meant to be a mean-spirited fight. But it's for our family to show that Bosch is worthy to have you in his care. And to do that, he has to stand his ground with some members of our family against yours. There are limits though, and we're not supposed to use excessive force to fight back." Yua explained as she glanced at the pair in the middle. "I can't say the same for your friend and Bosch though."

And to be fair, he’s mostly parrying Kali’s moves rather than fighting back.

They exchanged snarky remarks as they brawled, but he did seem to be enjoying himself more than he let on.

It's great to know they're now friends, considering how they first met.

After the 'fight', Bosch's party managed to ward off yours, garnering a few laughs and shouts from both sides.

But when Kali demanded a rematch, Luke had to calm her down.

By then, most people retired for the night and parted ways, telling you and Bosch they'll come back to help with the wedding planning.

You're glad that Yua and some of their family helped you with the rituals because there was so much you had to learn in a few days.

You were showered with gifts from the moment you stepped foot in his home and they even gave you a traditional Nayshalli wedding attire.

The fabric was soft to the touch, and the intricate patterns seemed to shimmer in the light.

“Wait, is this my outfit?” Your breath caught in your throat as you ran your fingers over the delicate embroidery.

“Yeah, it's a gift from my family.” Bosch said staring down at the colorful fabric in your hands. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, this is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." Your heart swelled with gratitude at the thoughtful gesture.

You hoped to thank them all in person.

When the Wedding finally came, you were awoken by Yua and other family members to help prepare for the big day.

Her nimble fingers carefully fastened the intricate buttons of the Chuba, while their aunts helped put on your jewelry.

As they worked, the room was filled with chatter as they shared stories and memories of their own weddings.

And when you saw Bosch again, he was also donning his Wedding attire as he sat on top of a horse with a group of horsemen in tow.

His Chuba matched yours down to the stitching and he wore jewelry made of amber, silver, and turquoise.

He looked beautiful.

Bosch knew you were staring at him when he arrived but he couldn’t blame you, because he was doing the same thing.

The mare he rode was decorated with colors and flowers that matched the elements of your zodiac sign.

He extended his hand, inviting you to join him for the journey to the wedding ceremony.

With a graceful movement, you accepted Bosch's hand and mounted the horse behind him.

As you marched to the hall with the group, led by a Lama, they started to sing melodies and chant for the union of the two families.

And when you arrived, you noticed the gate to the hall was covered in flowers and silk cloth.

Bosch helped you dismount and guided you to step on the embroidered cloth leading up to the entrance.

On top of the fabric were kernels shaped into Buddhist symbols.

It's culturally significant for you to step on the kernels, a gesture welcoming prosperity and fortune into a marital union.

At the end of the path, there was a Chemar. This traditional Tibetan offering consisted of tsampa and butter, which symbolized prosperity and abundance during the Tibetan New Year.

So before you went in, you would have to throw a small amount of flour and melted butter into the air as an offering to their god. Then you had a right to go into the hall.

You and Bosch exchanged ceremonial scarves, which are known as a Khata. Afterwards, you prostrated yourself at the family altar and offered your scarves to them before sitting down at the table on the stage.

Incorporating these rituals into marriage ceremonies helps maintain the cultural identity and tradition of Nayshall.

Following prayers, a ceremonial tea offering takes place symbolizing gratitude and respect.

You poured tea for your families, expressing your appreciation for their love and support.

Unlike other marriage customs, their custom is more a family marriage than an individual one.

So the seating arrangement would be Yua, Bosch, You, and your direct family members/friends sitting next to you.

One by one, you were showered with gifts from both sides. They were wrapped in Khatas before they were presented to your party. Then the individual would then unwrap them and place the scarf on your shoulders.

Or to anyone that the gift was intended for.

You thank them all as they place the Khatas on your shoulders and give you their blessings.

For the most part, people gave you money in envelopes. With special exceptions:

Kali gave you chocolate.

Yi Cheng gave Bosch Star anise.

And Javi gave both of you sleeping masks.

You should've known Coach was going to give an outlandish gift.

That's your fault for assuming otherwise.

But you still didn't expect him to give you travel weights.

And what's funnier, is that he presented it to the two of you like it was nothing.

But all you could think was, How did he sneak that through TSA?

Bosch chuckled when he saw it and accepted the weight like it was any other gift.

After everyone presented their items, it was time for the entertainment.

Yua and her friends prepared a traditional dance using colorful scarves to perform at the ceremony.

Bosch couldn't help but smile as he watched Yua twirl and spin, her steps echoing through the room as she danced with an infectious energy.

Finally, it concluded with the 'Petal Lama,' a blessing bestowed by a spiritual leader.

With gentle words and sacred rituals, the Lama offered blessings for a long and happy marriage, filled with love, joy, and prosperity.

After the ceremony, you and Bosch moved through the bustling crowd at the wedding reception. The sound of laughter and chatter mingled with the aroma of delicious food created a lively atmosphere.

Elders sat huddled together at tables as they engaged in card games. Their hands moved deftly across the table as they plotted their next moves.

Meanwhile, other guests mingled throughout the room, their plates piled high with steaming bowls of noodles, momos, and stir-fried vegetables. The aroma of spices and herbs filled the air, tantalizing your senses as you moved through the crowd.

Later, you two changed into more 'modern' clothing to do a Western take on what a wedding was.

So that means, cake cutting and a first dance would make an appearance later in the night.

That's also when you two would exchange vows and give each other your rings.

You and Bosch checked in with every group to make sure everything was running smoothly.

His uncle said something in Nayshalli which made Bosch bite back embarrassingly.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing. Keep walking" He nudged you away.

"He said, ‘I’m glad you’re able to find a lifelong partner, I was worried you would never settle down to-" Yua was interrupted when Bosch put his hand over her mouth.

"Yua, that’s enough."

It was so absurd that you laughed at the interaction between the siblings.

As the party raved through the night, you had a lingering feeling that someone was watching you.

Scanning the room, your eyes stopped on a familiar face.

Kalima.

You knew you would see her again, especially after all the commotion about the wedding.

When your eyes met, she walked to the secluded balcony outside the hall.

Did she want you to follow her?

You excused yourself from the table and made your way outside.

She was overlooking the view over the town as the sun began to set.

“Congrats on the Wedding. I hope you and Bosch live a prosperous life from here on out.” She raised her glass, still not looking at you with her eyes glued to the town below. It sounded like she didn’t care.

“Kalima, we haven’t really talked since the Suval’hal tournament.” You joined her near the ledge.

“Yeah, for a good reason too. JP has been hounding Mt. Vashall for the last couple of months. Any longer and we may have to relocate somewhere else.” She placed her glass down.

“But you and Bosch-”

“No. Just me.” Kalima cut you off.

“What do you mean?” You said confused.

“Bosch is no longer part of the Resistance.”

“…what?”

“You heard me. He severed his ties with us the night you two arrived.” She turned to you.

No. That's not right. Bosch?

The guy who was willing to get blown to bits for his country? The guy who hates JP with a burning passion? That Bosch?

No way he would just up and leave the Resistance like that.

“Why? Especially after everything that’s happened?” You asked.

She’s lying to you, she has to be.

“Who knows? He has his reasons, we have ours. So while you and Bosch are chumming each other up in Metro City, we’ll still be here holding it down in Nayshall. So let me offer you some words of advice, don’t come back to Nayshall if you know what’s good for you.” Kalima grabbed her glass and downed the rest of its contents.

"Welcome to the family." She said, taking her leave.

“Wait, but I still have more questions.” You stood in front of her.

“Then ask your husband, because I don’t feel like entertaining this conversation any longer.” She snapped, pushing past you and disappearing into the masses.

You don't know how to feel. But it didn't help that she dropped this on you during your wedding. Were you responsible for his decision to sever ties with his family back home?

No that can't be it, right?

The amount of thoughts flooding your mind gave you a migraine, so you buried your face in your arms on the stone ledge.

This is your wedding, you're supposed to be enjoying this moment with your friends and family, but here you are, burdened over your now-husband's stance with the Resistance.

Of course, you’re happy that he’s not jumping into dangerous situations anymore, but he loves Nayshall more than anyone you knew.

And to abandon something that’s always been a major part of his identity is as shocking for you to hear as the next person.

And what did she mean don’t come back?

Maybe you were more hung up on this because he didn't bother to say anything to you and left you wandering in the dark.

You were so absorbed in your thoughts, that you almost didn't hear the click of the door opening behind you.

Maybe Kalima came back to dig the knife deeper into you since the first conversation hasn’t fully set in yet.

"Kalima, please. Not right now." You mumbled through your still-buried face.

"So Kalima did talk to you. I knew she would sooner or later."

"Bosch!" You turned around.

"I was wondering where you ran off to." He gave you a small smile. "But if I known you were talking to Kalima, I would've jumped in."

"But is it true?" You said.

"What? That I denounced my position in the Resistance? Yeah, it's true." He replied, tucking his hands in his ceremonial robes from the chill of the air.

"But why? You wanted nothing more than the independence of Nayshall and freedom from NGOs. You loved this place, what happened?"

"I still do. But there were people I loved more." He said, seeing your guilt, "Look, after everything that happened in the Suval'hal tournament, I had to step back. JP's connections to Nayshall ran deeper than me and the Resistance. So that meant he must’ve known Yua was related to me. There's no other reason that I could think of that he would've given her the Championship belt if he didn't. It's not safe for her to stay in Nayshall anymore if JP knows she’s affiliated with the Resistance in any way. That’s why I left.”

"What about the rest of your family? You're just gonna leave them here?" You gestured at the crowd in the distance.

Bosch's expression softened. "I would never abandon my family," his voice filled with sincerity. "But right now, I need to focus on keeping Yua safe."

"And what about everyone else?" You asked.

"That's why Kalima's here, She's still overseeing the Resistance and keeping an eye on the community. If anything happens, she'll let me know."

"And what if something does happen when you're in Metro City?" you pressed.

"Then I'll come back." Bosch replied without hesitation.

"If you had all this planned out, How come you never told me anything?"

"Because it wouldn't have changed anything. Regardless of what you had to say, I still would’ve left Nayshall with Yua.”

"I don't mind the decisions you make, but I don't like it when you keep me in the dark about things. I hope you know you have a track record of doing this."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'll do my best to be more open with you, no matter how difficult it is." Bosch gently pulled you against him, holding you close.

"Come on, we still have a wedding to attend." Bosch said, rubbing circles on your back.

You hummed, finding comfort in his arms.

The rest of the wedding continued as usual but with a certain sadness overcoming your senses.

When the night came to an end, some stayed behind to help clean the hall and give you and Bosch one last farewell before they left for the night.

You felt like you hadn’t eaten all day, maybe because you and Bosch were too busy with managing everything.

But you knew it was because of your conversation with Kalima.

And you didn't have the urge to stomach anything else.

You tried to sleep it off, wanting the day to be over but Bosch woke up to your stomach growling.

He asked if you had eaten anything today, which you sheepishly said you hadn’t.

He groaned getting out of bed to put his garments on.

“Where are you going?”

“We are going to Tsanpa-La’s shop to get something to eat since he’s the only one still open this late.”

“But I’m so tired” you mumbled, letting him drag you out of bed.

"I know, I know. Come on." He said bringing over your shoes.

As you both approached Tsanpa's stand in Central Bazaar, his face lit up with joy as he spotted you two in the distance.“Hey, it’s the Newlyweds!”

"Hey Tsampa, How have you been?" You said yawning through your sleepiness.

"Good, but business has been slow. So it's nice to see some customers every now and then." He sat you two down at the nearby picnic table.

"What would you two like today? Tandoori chicken? Lentil pottage? Butter Tea?"

“I’m all Butter tea’d out, so none for me.” You can hear your stomach churning at the sound of it.

“Just Chicken curry and potato stir fry for today,” Bosch said plopping down on his seat.

“Oh, and Meatballs in tomato sauce, please.” You chimed in, making Tsanpa laugh.

“Of course, coming right up. And don't worry about it, It’s on the house tonight.” He said stopping Bosch from pulling out his wallet. "Think of it as a wedding gift from me to you."

"Thank you, Tsanpa-La." Bosch said.

When the food was placed in front of you, you both dug in, savoring the warmth of the food against the chill of the night.

Bosch can tell you’re still not feeling the best after today’s events.

"Stop looking like a kicked dog, It’s not your fault about what happened between me and Kalima." Bosch said, shoving a spoonful of rice in his mouth.

"I know, but I still can't help but feel a bit responsible." You played with the potatoes on your plate. "Do you think things would have turned out differently if I hadn't talked to her?"

“Maybe, but there’s no point in thinking what could’ve been if it’s never going to happen. But I’ll tell you now, no one will ever hurt you or Yua again. Not Kalima, not JP, no one.” He said.

You cracked a small smile at his words. “Thanks, Bosch.”

After conversing with him, you invited Tsanpa to sit with you as the crowd in the market slowly dispersed.

Tsanpa recalled some stories of Bosch in his youth to you as you two munched down on some curry.

Bosch hid his face in his hands as the more embarrassing ones came up.

Okay, maybe he was a sneaky kid, but Tsanpa didn't need to remember it in more detail than Bosch did.

He peeked at your reaction through his fingers and saw you laughing at his stories.

At least you're feeling better now.

He knew Kalima got in your head since your encounter with her at the monastery.

And whenever he checked in on you, you seemed out of it, hardly responding to him throughout the night.

So he's glad this late-night run was able to put you in a better mood.

Bosch did get a little flustered at Tsanpa's own version of events when he was a troubled teen.

But seeing you revert back to your old self, made it worth the embarrassment he's feeling.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 10

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: very likely typos, fluffy stuff, cursing i think.

Words: 3157

The One I Want Masterlist

The words ‘I’ll be fine’ are still ringing in your ear, drilled into your brain from the excessive number of times they’d been said or texted in the last ten hours. From the moment you stepped out of your bedroom door this morning, Jake began insisting on picking you up from the shop following your shift. He insisted before you even had a chance to suggest an alternative plan for your day. As soon as you opened your mouth, he had his hand up and head shaking to stop you.

“Don’t even say it,” he said, “I’ll be there to get you, same as always,” to which you responded with what might as well be your new catchphrase: “I’ll be fine.”

His attempts to put his foot down on the matter were unsuccessful as you pointed out every reason why finding your own means of transportation after work is the best solution. He rolled his eyes at “It’s your birthday, Jake,” and snorted at “Your party at the bar starts an hour and a half before my shift ends,” but finally surrendered to “If you’re late, your friends will be disappointed. They mean too much to you for that.” Then he sighed and nodded and continued about his morning routine as you did yours before you headed to the shop. Though you thought you’d won, you received multiple “Are you sure?” texts that were also answered with “I’ll be fine.” And you are fine. Your shift was dull, uneventful, and you had no issue securing a quick ride to The Hard Deck. 

Hopping out of the back of the driver’s car is a struggle with the number of bags hanging off your arms. Between your purse, Jake’s present, and the clothes you wore to work shoved into a grocery bag—which were switched with the casual, green knee-length dress you’re wearing—you’re weighed down. 

“Need some help there, Sweetness?” Javy is one of few lingering outside the bar, and the only person you know within sight. He smiles and the arms crossed over his chest bounce with his chuckle. Before you answer, he walks over to snatch both your purse and the grocery bag in his hands. “I’m gonna toss these in Jake’s truck. No one will bother them,” he says.

In his brief absence, you stand a little straighter and brush the stray hairs back behind your ear. A low whistle coming from behind you causes you to flinch until you realize it’s from your friend as he makes his way back over to you.

“You're definitely lookin’ lovely,” he teases, and you snort.

“Quit it.”

“No can-do, sweetness. Too pretty to ignore.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you look down at the ivy-green material flowing around your body. It’s about as simple a dress you could find—well, that Millie could help you find after insisting on leaving behind the jeans—but it’s much more than anything you’ve worn in the past. Social events have never been your cup of tea. Not being invited out has left you slim on practice, and that includes every aspect down to your choice of clothing. While Millie did help you pick it out, it doesn’t necessarily mean she is an expert either, but you have no way of knowing for sure. “Is it too much?”

“Not a chance,” Javy replies. “You look amazing. And you happen to be the very reason I am out here instead of in there.”

“Meaning…”

“As Jake’s top-tier friend, I want to be the one to personally deliver his favorite present. Now that you’re here, I can do that,” he says with a wink before holding out his elbow for you to take. 

—

Jake’s eyes are already on the door when you walk in, finding you instantly, and his entire body perks up like a man just shot with a bolt of life. Shoulders lose the little bit of slump there was from forearms resting on the high-top table and eyebrows drop their pinch as he watches your every step toward him. Through the mass of bodies Javy assists in weaving you through, Jake’s stare is impressive. It’s steady and he doesn’t lose you, not for a second. 

When you reach him, Javy loudly declares “The contest is over! I just won best present.” He then releases you to round the group and pops open a bottle of beer with the edge of the table. By the multiple marks on the wood surface, you imagine—hope, anyway—that Penny doesn’t mind. However, if anyone were to follow her rules and respect the property she requests be respected, it would be this group. 

As you stand there greeting the rest of the crew, you can still feel those green eyes. A few other pairs dart back and forth between you and Jake. Tension bubbles around the back corner of the room where the modest party is set up, but it’s not an aggressive tension from distress or concern of discomfort; it’s a tension buzzing wildly with excitement. And from the smiles on faces and the little redhead you’ve bonded with bouncing on her toes, you can begin to guess where this buzzing, humming, zapping energy is coming from. 

They know. You’re not sure why a flash of surprise moves through you. Of course, they know. Of course, Jake told them. They’re his best friends. They’re the family he made after the devastation of having his own taken from him. His sharing of what’s happened between you over the last week is normal, so normal that it’s unfamiliar. One more thing you’ll have to get used to if Jake continues to pull you out of the existence you’ve known for so long.

“Hi,” he says. It rides on a heavy exhale that you can barely hear through the cacophony of voices filling the bar. 

Jake’s friends appear to go back to their conversations, but they’re no good at disguising their true intentions. Their ears are alert as eyes rely on the strength of their peripheral vision to catch either your or Jake’s next move. A tight squeeze with roaming hands, a deep kiss, an arm wrapping possessively around a shoulder or waist—they’re clearly eager to witness it all, but the anticipation hanging in the air is snuffed out by Jake leaning in and innocently brushing his lips over your cheek. To your side, there is a collective murmuring of disappointment that is, again, poorly disguised.

“You get here ok? I mean, you know, without complication?” Jake asks. A nod joins your budding grin. 

“Easy-peasy.” He stares more, his fingers traveling from your elbow to your wrist, and you suddenly remember what’s clutched in your hands. “Oh, I got you this,” you say, holding up the bag. It’s made of a thin, golden paper that’s priced way too high for its quality with clashing orange tissue sticking out of it, and it’s about four sizes too big for the gift you got him, but it was all the shop had last minute. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“It’s your birthday. That’s what people do,” you counter, because even though you’ve never received a present on your birthday, Jake is the type of guy who always should. You hold the bag higher, forcing him to take it.

“Thank you,” he says before turning to set the bag on the table. It’s then that you see the remnants of paper and bows scattered across the wooden surface. Piled on a couple of stools behind Bob are the gifts he has already opened. Jake’s hand starts to dig through the bright orange tissue paper. 

“You’re going to open it right now?” you ask, having previously imagined there would be at least a sliver less of attention on the two of you when he does. Your fingers of one hand begin to fiddle with the fingers of the other. 

“Sure, why not?” His hand pauses and he looks at you a little harder. “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“N-No, it’s fine.” A blond brow raises. “Really, it is.”

He waits a second longer before resuming his discarding of the paper. When he looks inside, his hand retreats, and he watches your gift at the bottom of the bag as if it might start moving on its own. Then his head shakes and he grins ear to ear and he reaches back in to pull it out. The brows of the other aviators pinch in confusion at the globe sitting in the palm of Jake’s hand. In all of its cheap glory, it contains a beach scene with plenty of unnatural sparkly snow settled at the bottom of the liquid which is quickly disturbed by Jake’s light shaking. He chuckles. Then chuckles some more. Crinkles deepen at the corners of his eyes.

“I don’t get it,” Rooster mutters, only to have Millie elbow him in the side. 

“You don’t have to,” she scolds. “Now hush.”

Despite Jake’s laughter, when he places the snow globe back in the bag you fear you’ve somehow fucked up. That it’s not as cute as you imagined he would think. That he’d rather you have gotten him nothing over something so silly. But then he faces you, takes your hand, and as he starts to walk away from the table, whispers, “Come with me.”

As you’re led away you glance over your shoulder to see that your friends are all in different states. Nat and Bob are exchanging glances and snickering at the birthday boy’s rapid departure, Millie is smacking her boyfriend’s hand as he reaches for the golden bag, and Javy smirks along with the statement “That certainly didn't take long.” 

You look ahead, but before you can fully catch up with your surroundings, you’re yanked through a door and pushed up against the other side of it as a mouth firmly presses to yours. Jake’s palm smacks the surface next to you, blindly feeling around for the deadbolt, and the thud from its turn echoes in the empty bathroom. Then his hands cup your cheeks and you melt as he pulls you in closer. 

At a different time, with a different man, unmanageable thoughts would be taking control of your senses right now. Your fingers would be stiffening and your eyes would be snapping open, darting around to take in every square inch of the room in search of signs of other people. You would be listening for any and every sound with such intensity that you’d have a decent count on the number of footsteps passing by the other side of the door. You wouldn’t be letting yourself go or forget your troubles or feel for a single moment because you know what this behavior looks like. You know how others often perceive it. In the midst of past frenzied kisses, your brain would deteriorate into a fractured mess. Ten percent of your mind would struggle to focus on the wandering hands and lips attached to yours; fifteen percent would go to wondering if anyone saw you sneak into the bathroom with a man; twenty would be spent worrying you’ll receive looks of judgment and pity once you rejoin the bar; twenty-five would be questioning why you’re choosing to be in the position you’re in when you know it won’t end well; and the remaining thirty percent would be trying to prematurely push away the shame to come when the somewhat intoxicated man kissing you in the bar bathroom decides he is done. 

It’s not a different time, though. You’re not with a different man. You’re exactly where you are, with the man you are with, and you don’t care about anything but him. 

Jake is pulled in with hands fisted in the material of his shirt. He’s your only source of stability and direction as he turns your bodies and walks you backward. When your lower back meets the edge of the sink, you separate the kiss and instinctually jump up. Of course you jump. You always jump in these situations. But this time when your bottom lands on top of the counter, you don’t second guess the man whose hips are settling between your spread thighs, whose eyes gaze at you like you’re the most incredible thing they've ever seen, whose hands are threading into your hair, whose lips are once again claiming yours. 

His tongue teases the seam of your lips and when you part them so it can slip inside to brush along yours, muffled moans merge. The fingers hidden within the strands of your hair tighten into fists. They stay there until your own hands begin to explore. One index finger curls through a belt loop, tugging inward to remove what little distance remains between you. The other is the first on that hand to dip under the hem of his shirt and stroke over a patch of tanned skin just above the button of his jeans. You love how he feels there—hard with thick muscle but soft from the trail of hair that disappears under a band of denim. Jake shudders against you, and it seems to serve as a reminder that there is more of you for him to touch as well. 

With your hair freed, a hand grasps your outer thigh where your dress has ridden up. Fingertips knead flesh as an arm snakes around your waist. A squeak of surprise gets stuck in your throat when that arm jerks forward, unexpectedly managing to inch your bottom closer to the edge of the counter. 

There is so much happening, so much to absorb, and you don’t have a chance to mentally address the tick of uncertainty that never showed itself. Instead, you are simply full of the feeling that none of this scares you. Not a bit of it. Not the strength of his arm around you. Not the hand that has begun to slide up your thigh and under the hem of your dress to the swell of your ass. Not the pressing of his hips into the space between your legs. Not the heat he gives off that fights the chill of the room. Not his teeth nibbling your bottom lip, or the whimpers it draws forth that with anyone else would have you shrinking in embarrassment. You’re so far from afraid that you've crossed into happily addicted territory.

His mouth vanishes from yours to latch onto your neck. The sound you make at the new sensation has Jake’s hold on you tightening. 

“All because of a—” you gasp from a teasing lick under your ear, “a snow globe?”

You’ve learned that Jake likes to leave trails of his kisses; mark after mark to show the places he’s been. It is between the kisses of this trail from your ear to your shoulder that you hear “Partly the snow globe,” after one kiss, “partly this dress,” after another, and then “mostly just because it’s you.”

Jake chuckles when you sigh and wrap your arms around his neck. You could let him continue on for hours—would, too—but a banging on the door snaps you out of your blissful haze. 

Cursing, your spine straightens like a rod. “J-Just a second!” you yell, patting Jake’s shoulder. He hums into your sensitive skin, sending vibrations over your pulse. “Jake, I know you heard that. People want in.” There’s another knock, and another. Leaning back and placing your hands on his cheeks, you force Jake to look at you. “Time for you to leave.”

He holds his finger up. “One condition.”

“No conditions,” you say as you nudge him aside and hop off the counter. “There are women out there who have to pee.”

It’s a boom this time, leaving no question as to the person’s impatience. Twisting around, you glance over yourself in the mirror. Your lips are stolen, hair wild, and as you go about fixing it back into place, Jake’s arms wrap around your waist. 

“Promise me we can continue this at home,” he says. “I don't want to stop.” 

Your eyes meet his in the mirror. “Maybe…if you go.”

“Deal.” One more kiss lands on your shoulder before Jake is unbolting the door and jerking it open for whoever is on the other side. He peeks his head out, glances left and right, then looks back at you. “No one’s here.”

“You still have to go.” His face falls into a pout. “Don’t look at me like that. All of your friends are waiting for you, anyway.”

“They're waiting for you, too.”

“It's not my birthday. And I need to fix myself up a bit.”

Jake grins. Watching his reflection in the mirror, you see his eyes linger on your face and chest, enjoying the flush he caused that is more prominent under the fluorescents. They then make a slow line down your body, taking the time to appreciate your ass along the way. “That really is a great dress.”

Your flush deepens. “Go,” you demand, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He winks and then he’s gone. 

A squeeze traps the air in your lungs. It caves in your chest, making the thumping of your heart all the more demanding of your attention, and you roll your eyes when it becomes clear that your body is reacting to you missing him. Two seconds apart and you already want him back, and now you feel like a giddy fool; a horny teenager around the first boy to ever truly want her. 

Blowing out that trapped breath, you run your fingers through your hair to tame it. It doesn’t manage to return to its previous state, but there is nothing you can do about it. Neither can you remove that pink shade from your cheeks and chest despite the damp paper towel you blot over your skin. You look half-sexed, and it’s comically obvious. But maybe if you channel Jake Seresin energy and walk back to your friends’ table without looking guilty, they won’t look at you like you have something to be guilty of. Not guilty in a demeaning sense, of course, but guilty in a way that will have them shooting teasing looks at you right before Nat and Millie pull you away from the men for details of your actions.

That will have to be your plan, because there is no chance they won’t notice your altered appearance, especially when they immediately knew why you and Jake were disappearing to begin with. 

Shaking your head, you tug at the bottom of your dress to make sure all of its seams line up with where they are supposed to be on your body. When you decide it’s about as good as it’s going to get, you head for the door and pull it open, but your path is blocked. 

“Good thing he finally left,” Brit says. She steps forward and to avoid a collision you have to take a step back into the bathroom. “Now we have a chance to talk.”

---

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[ultrone]

𓂃  ⊹ javi's older sibling hcs 🪽

general :p

you're javi's older sibling by four years; you being a senior and him being a freshmen. as the firstborn, your dad obviously taught you everything he knew about soccer from a young age, and you grew up to become one of the best soccer players at wiskayok high school. this worked well for javi, who isn't into soccer but prefers calmer sports like badminton.

the large age gap between your brother and you caused the two of you to distance yourselves from each other a little bit as you grew up. you had your group of friends and teammates, and he had his own. however, you've always tried to maintain your relationship with him and often hang out at home, or go out together when neither of you have anything to do.

for instance, something that kind of turned into a tradition between you both was watching a movie nearly every night after dinner—unless there was homework. this all started because usually, after dinner, you'd naturally head to the living room to read a magazine or chat on the phone with a friend. but one day, you were both bored, decided to watch a movie together, and it stuck. as simple as it was, every night became movie night for you—if there was one thing javi and you had in common, it was having a similar taste in movies. your parents would get a bit grumpy sometimes since it was past javi's bedtime, but who cared? your dad would go to bed at like 9:30 pm anyway lmaooo

and if your dad was generous with some cash, you'd bring javi along to the movies on weekends. travis, your cousin, worked there, but he had always been a jerk, so he hardly hooked you up with discounts, despite having an unlimited 40% off on everything 🙄

"if you bring me one of those mags uncle bill hides under his bed, maybe i'll think about it," travis said with a sly smile.

"dude, there's a kid in the room," you exclaimed, covering javi's ears in playful shock. “but why don’t you ask your dad to let you borrow his, anyway? oh wait, he left you 😬”

you’d also go to the local arcade frequently. most of the time, you'd find him there instead of going there with him. that boy had a serious obsession with pinballs and street fighter 😭

you’re very protective of him. once, some older kids tried to bother him, not for any reason, just because he's reserved and introverted—easy prey for bullies. of course, you scared them off the next day. you're not usually full of yourself, but being the co-captain of the yellowjackets has its advantages. plus, people know he's travis' cousin, so they steer clear knowing he has anger issues. if only they knew he doesn't give a single fuck about you or javi… 😭😭

you have a secret handshake that you created when you were kids; you always do it before you leave for school, or after a long day of not seeing each other.

in the wilderness. . .

when your dad passed away, it really shook both of you. because of soccer, you had always been a bit closer to your dad than javi, as you spent more time with him. javi had always been closer to your mom. nonetheless, he had a terrible time as well. in the first few days, neither of you said a word to each other as you needed time to process everything. although you always kept an eye on him from a distance, no matter how tough it got.

the only thing you wanted to do was curl into a ball and let the earth swallow you whole, but you couldn't because, as much as you wanted someone to lean on, you had to be there for your younger brother, especially considering how sensitive he was. as a little keepsake for him, you took your dad’s ring, the one he always wore, and a leather string from one of his fancy shoes you found in his suitcase, and made a necklace for javi—which he loves and has worn ever since. the moment you handed it to him was when you two patched things up after what happened and grew closer than ever.

he's very artistic and imaginative, usually expressing himself through drawing using sheets of paper shauna would let him borrow. however, he then took an interest in carving. at first, he was terrible at it, but due to the circumstances and being bored out of his mind, he started spending entire afternoons practising. eventually, he got good and started coming up to you to show you some of the miniature animals he carved. he made a bunch for you, which you keep next to your makeshift bed <33

he actually carved a special one for each of you and told y’all that they were luck amulets to keep you safe 🥹🥹 he was shy about it, though, so he secretly placed them on each person's spot with a small note while everyone was outside. for instance, he carved a deer for lottie, a wolf for nat, a bear for shauna, etc etc…

he even carved a tiny net and soccer ball and put them on top of your dad's grave :(

when both of you are bored, you often play "guess who?" by drawing people with a stick, tracing them on the dirt or snow behind the cabin.

y’all stopped for a while, though, because there was a time when mari was assigned to take the pee bucket to the cliff for two weeks, and you thought it’d be hilarious to draw a saddened mari doing the dreaded chore 😭😭 coach ben caught y’all laughing at it, and as a punishment, y’all had to do the pee bucket duty for a WHOLE month 😔☠️ (which actually leads you to think that mari’s the nasty ass bitch who shat in the bucket 😒 you have no proof but you have no doubts either, plus she has a motive: REVENGE)

when the two of you were little, you invented a secret language that you used to communicate with each other when you didn’t want anyone else to understand you, which comes in handy when y’all are in the cabin with everybody. you use it when you want to share a joke or gossip lmaooo—y’all try to be careful though, because you never know when misty’s ass will learn to decrypt it and catch your asses 🙄

when doomcoming came around, he made you both crowns to wear with sticks and flowers he found around the woods, and your initials carved in the middle of your respective crowns.

you’re the person in charge of trimming his hair when it grows too much. you realized it was time to test out your barbering skills when you spotted him from behind and briefly mistook him for one of the jv yellowjackets 😭☠️

“can i get a low taper fade this time?” he joked. “bitch, you’re lucky if you get a decent haircut,” you said. “i’m not responsible for any injuries or infections you might get from this rusty ass blade.”

the first time you cut his hair, he didn’t talk to you for three days because van said he looked like sharon osbourne LMFAOOO it wasn’t even that bad like c’mon 😭😭

ᰔ javi & travis’ middle sibling hcs coming soon…