Blow By Blow | 0.6 | Bradley Bradshaw X Reader Au

A FRESH START [20]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, mentions of death experiences, anxiety, PTSD references

Word Count: 5,066

Updates every Thursday

#20: SHORT STICK BEARS HIS WRATH

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"you can't heal if you pretend you're not hurt." -aliza grace

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Grogu had a habit of making friends wherever he went. So, it didn’t surprise Din to see that a bulk of Ari’s crew were gushing over his son and offering him different things to play with. After parking the N1 and walking to the address Ari messaged him, what looked like an old fighting gym, he entered to see a small group of people surrounding Grogu who stood on the table and babbled. They listened intently, cooed back to him, and offered him a variety of objects to either eat or play with.

Din’s eyes landed on Ari who was sitting in a desk chair, feet kicked up and ankles crossed, while frowning at the sight. When her gaze drifted toward him she blew out an annoyed breath of air. “Finally. Can you please take your son and go? It seems while he’s around my crew is,” Ari turned to yell out the next words at the people surrounding Grogu, “Incapable of doing their kriffing jobs!”

“The stressors of running a criminal empire.” Din snorted.

“Aw, you think my little show is an empire?” Ari grinned impishly. “That’s cute. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ve reached that level of notoriety yet.”

“Yeah, well, I have faith in you.”

Din knew her main skill set was in smuggling. He assumed that’s what she was still doing, just branching out and roping others in. Still, Din wasn’t too worried about breaking up her party or shining a spotlight down on her. Of all the evil Din had seen in the galaxy, Ari was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“Hey boss, can we keep it?” A large man turned and pointed to Grogu who had his hands up in the air as he babbled about a story.

“Him, you idiot.” Ari corrected. “It’s Mando’s son.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man replied. “Can we keep him?”

“See what I mean? Useless.” Ari scoffed. Din called out for Grogu who took the time to gather up all the snacks being offered to him then jumped into his pram to drift over. Ari crossed her arms and snapped for the others to get back to their jobs. They gradually drifted away. She looked at him. “So? How’s the doc?”

Din tilted his head. “Left him thirty minutes outside the city to crawl back.”

“That all?”

“I may have…” Din chose his words carefully. “Stacked the odds against him.” Ari chuckled in amusement and he nodded. “I need you to keep an eye on that for me.”

“How so?”

“Make sure there’s a corpse, and if there isn’t,” Din shrugged nonchalantly, “Make one.”

The request rolled off his tongue as if he were in Nevarro going to his neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar. Din saw no issue in his request. If he wasn’t on such a time crunch in his eagerness to return to you then he’d stick around and double check for himself. 

Ari nodded. “Alright. I’m counting that as two favors now though. So, you owe me.” Din dragged his helmeted gaze to look at her and raised an eyebrow in skepticism as if she’d be able to see. Ari read the tone enough to snicker. “Fine. Fine. We’re even then.”

“Deal.”

“So,” Ari whistled, “If you and your ‘not wife’ ever tie the knot will I get invited to the wedding? Do Mandalorians have weddings?” 

“Stop talking.” Din shook his head and turned to leave. He chuckled under his breath. Grogu followed after him⏤ the child’s cheeks full of some local dessert. Great, now he’d be bouncing around the cockpit of the N1 for Maker knows how long.

Ari called a good-bye after him as he left. “Nice seeing you too, Mando! Safe travels!”

Nima told you not to freak out. Her exact words had been, ‘Alright, everything is okay and you are safe and it’s all going to be fine but you need to know this’. Your first horrific thought was that the news would somehow involve your boys. It had been a knee jerk fear that filled your entire soul with dread. Then Nima followed it up with, ‘Kurt’s trial was put on hold’.

And, as wild as it was, you felt relief. That had been your initial reaction. Before Nevarro, hearing those words would have made you immediately throw up. But in this situation, all you could think was how grateful you were that the bad news didn’t involve Din or Grogu.

“I’m sorry.” Nima murmured and you could see how devastated she was to share this news with you. She was the kind of person who felt every emotion she had so deeply. It’s why she was so lively and bubbly as her day to day happiness shined through. However, in moments like this, it broke your heart to see her so empathetic to your own pain. “I went back and forth on telling you, but you made me swear to update you on any news I thought was important and this seemed important. Plus, I didn’t want you to hear on accident from somewhere else or⏤”

“Nima.” You reached out to squeeze her arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” The longer the news lingered in your mind the more it began to unravel your sense of peace. “What happened? Do we know why?”

She shook her head. “They won’t report it yet. Just that it’s delayed.”

Could trials be delayed right in the middle of it? You didn’t know a lot about law or the system surrounding it. Nima was rambling about something or another, trying to bring you comfort, but your thoughts drifted away. You wished Din were here. That wasn’t a surprising thought. Every single day since they left, multiple times a day really, you’d see something or think of something that made you crave their presence more than the baseline. Just yesterday you bought a bag of Grogu’s favorite blue cookies from the sandwich shop just for the hell of it. 

You heard your name, mumbled in concern, and your focus snapped back to Nima who was staring at you as if she was waiting for you to crumble. Slowly, you could feel the edges of your nerves beginning to fray, but that’s what work was for right? Distract you from all those dangerous thoughts and fears.

“Seriously. I am okay.” You reassured her once more. “This stays between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Your day carried on as if the news hadn't been shared with you. It would be the one day you wanted to keep busy that all of Nevarro decided to be the picture perfect definition of health. It was in part due to the droid being repaired which took off a lot of lower level urgent cases rather than emergent and it even saw some people with active conditions routinely. That would be it's primary purpose until the new guy that Karga hired eventually got out here.

When you went home for the night, you had only been moving around the kitchen for a few minutes, getting dinner ready, when your com rang for a holocall. You set your armband on the island counter to stand and answer. Grogu’s face immediately filled the entire screen with a loud ‘Ma!’ which pulled a laugh out of you. You needed that. 

“Grogu, share.” Din replied though you could only barely see him behind Grogu’s face.

“No.” Grogu replied simply before he began to babble about his day. He was getting better at expressing himself every day and you were picking up on words like ‘new friends’, ‘more food’, and even something that sounded like he was trying to tell you there was someone he didn’t like. Din sighed loudly, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Uh huh.” You nodded your head, giving the little green boy your full attention, “Tell Ma all about it, baby.” It wasn’t until a solid five to ten minutes later that Grogu was appeased with the amount of attention from you that he was willing to share with his father. He wiggled out of the camera’s space so you could actually see Din, and the boy waved with a quick ‘Love Ma!’. You actually felt your heart tighten in your chest. “Love you too, baby.”

Grogu crawled away, probably to stir up trouble where he could find it on the small ship, and you bit back tears. The longer you sat with the news about Kurt the more you felt wired and anxious. Getting to talk to Grogu and see the cheerful boy made a world of difference.

“Mama’s boy.” You heard Din mutter with a chuckle while watching Grogu crawl away to wherever he went. His gaze quickly focused back on you and he let out a soft sigh. “Ner kar’ta. How was your day?”

“It was fine.” You leaned against the counter.

For the next half hour, you and Din talked about anything and everything. He told you about how the rest of his trip on that Outer Rim planet went, and he told you he dealt with Daelar. Din didn’t give you details on the specific, but you found that you didn’t really need them. You didn’t really care. Then you told him about your day, but gradually the two of you got off topic and trailed on about other things. Din was speaking, you could hear the sound of his comforting voice, but you found yourself accidentally zoning out. Your mind not falling into a specific thought, but just drifting away. It wasn’t until the third time that Din called out to you that you realized he had been doing so in the first place.

“Hm? Sorry.” You shook your head.

Even through a holocall, halfway across the galaxy, you could see the worry that Din wore. He had shifted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and there was a tension in his shoulders. If that didn’t give him away then the tilt in his head and the tone of his voice did. “What’s wrong? You’re troubled.” He didn’t ask if you were troubled. He just knew you were. “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“I am. I promise.” You replied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him. Knowing Din, if you told him about Kurt he would do something drastic like immediately come back to Nevarro. Which, on one hand, was tempting, but it would just mean he’d need to leave again. Plus, you knew how important this mission was to him. You were not going to intercede with your own issues and drama. So, you decided on a lie of omission. “This afternoon there had been a patient with a chronic illness I didn’t remember much of. He was also Rodian and their anatomy is a blur to me. So, it was a lot of research and just working on the fly and I guess my brain just won’t let it go. I’m second guessing myself.”

Din’s entire body relaxed, but he stayed leaned over so he was closer to the camera⏤ closer to you. “Don’t. You’re incredible at what you do and immensely clever when you need to think on the spot.” You felt your cheeks warm at his blatant complements. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the greatest physician in the galaxy.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s your totally unbiased opinion.” Din nodded. “All that medical knowledge you have makes you an expert in that decision.”

“I have twenty plus years of working a cautery, thank you.” Din replied with a chuckle.

“Yes. Obviously, so qualified.”

“Fine.” Din’s voice took a teasing edge. “You’re the best physician in all of Nevarro. Is that better?”

You let out a loud laugh and just as it had eased your anxious heart with Grogu, Din settled your soul as well.  Din was immensely proud of himself. You could see the smug air about him even through the holocall. When your laughter died down, you rested your chin on your hand to hold up your head.

“I miss you.” You mumbled.

Din sighed. “I miss you too, ner kar’ta. But it won’t be much longer.” You perked up. “I am stopping to speak to an…old friend.” The way he said the words made you doubt that this person was an actual friend⏤ or that the relationship was tumultuous at best. “Then on to Mandalore.”

A soft smile filled your features at the news. 

“Ma! Ma!” Grogu was yelling again as he tried to get into the picture.

Din scooped the boy up to set him on his laugh and playfully scolded. “You had your turn, ad’ika. It’s my turn with Ma.”

“No. Me.” Grogu argued.

You watched in amusement as Din continued to tease Grogu into a silly argument on who got to have your attention. Maker, you needed them back soon.

Ever since Nima shared the news about Kurt, nightmares plagued you. It was an odd mix of past and future. Some nights Kurt would be carving into you, telling you that you didn’t deserve to live, and other nights you’d have to watch helplessly as he hurt Din and Grogu.

You preferred the nights where Kurt made you bleed.

That added to the fact that while on Mandalore Din was not going to be able to call you due to interference really distracted you. Sleep deprived and anxiety riddled while working in a clinic with medical tools was not the ideal combination. The bacta tank needed refreshing in case of emergencies and during a quiet moment in the office you had told Aayla you planned to get it done. It was dirty work, cleaning the bacta filters, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped forward motion, keeping yourself busy, would keep you awake and sane.

So, when your hand slipped on the mechanism, causing the thick filter door to slam shut on your hand, it had been entirely your own fault.

"Fuck!" You screamed in agony as you felt the bones in your fingers snap. Blinded by the panic, your natural instinct was to try to pull your hand out, but the door was closed too tight for it to budge. All it did was send sharp, lightning strikes of pain shooting up your arm.

Aayla was by your side in an instant and she was shouting commands or reassurances at you, but your mind was in a fog. Maybe it was the pain or the exhaustion, but your body slumped forward onto the bacta tank as your vision went black.

It came back seconds later, but you didn’t feel the same. Rather than pain, you felt the telltale sign of something running through your veins to bring you relief. You were also now lying on a cot rather than standing over the bacta tank.

“What are we supposed to do when the doctor needs a doctor?” Mayfeld scoffed. You couldn't see him from where you laid, but his voice was easily recognizable. So was Vanth’s who replied.

“Use the droid.”

“The droid? That’s your solution? Let the kriffing droid work on the woman Mando is head over heels for?” Mayfeld cried. “He’s better about the damn things, but if he heard about this he’d come back to Nevarro just to kill us. Then he’d somehow save our asses from the brink of death just so he can kill us again.” 

You groaned and all your words came out groggily, “Stop talking. Both of you.” There was the sound of steps and suddenly it was Vanth’s face in your vision grinning down at you. “Why are you in here again?”

“Well, because the doc went and got her hand jammed up in some machinery.” Vanth replied. His words reminded you of the injury and you lifted your left hand to see a splint wrapped around your last three fingers. The ring finger was the worst, but all three were discolored and swollen. Vanth’s teasing tone switched to sincerity. “How’re you feeling, little lady?”

“Drugged.” You complained and rubbed your face with your good hand. The lack of pain was nice, but you hated how certain strong medications could make you feel.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld chimed, “That’s the e-bacta shot we gave you.”

“E-bacta??” You scoffed. “Where the hell did you get the e-bacta and why did you bring it into my clinic? That shit is illegal for a reason.” This version of bacta was so potent and strong that it was only one step down from spice, really. Addictive as hell and hard to keep from degrading. “Why did you do that?”

Vanth pointed at your broken hand. “Because that looks kriffing miserable. We’d put you in the tank altogether just to be cautious but we had to break the damn thing to get you unlodged from it.”

“Shit.” You forced yourself to sit up and the room spun. Both men reached out to steady you. “The tank is broken??”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah, and so is your hand. Focus on that instead.”

You rubbed your face in a poor attempt to gain some clarity. “Please tell me no one told Mando.”

Maybe he’d still be on Mandalore and there’d be no service for someone to tell him you got hurt. This was just like a few days ago when you learned about Kurt. You couldn’t make Din worry. He needed to focus on his own task and not be thinking about you.

“Told Mando?” Mayfeld cried. “Nobody wants to make the call and tell the indestructible tin can that we let his girl get hurt.”

Vanth shrugged. “We were gonna draw straws later. Us, Karga, Nima, Peli. Short stick has to bear his wrath.” He grinned at you. “But now that you’re up and talking, little lady, looks like we don’t need to do that.”

Mayfeld nodded and pointed at the man. “Yeah, good point. She should tell him. He won’t kill her.”

“Either stop talking or give me more e-bacta.” You grumbled.

Ignoring the well meaning but overbearing men, you cradled your broken hand in your lap. The splint on your hand was decent. You’d need something more permanent, but for a patch job it was solid. The sound of doors sliding open made you glance up to see Aayla fluttering in. She put her hands on her hips with a solid attempt of intimidation.

“I already chased out Nima. Now you two, as well?” 

The men glanced at you and you tilted your head and added. “Go. Don’t tell Mando.” As they neared the door you called out one last time. “And…thanks, guys.”

You did appreciate them and how much they cared. Even if some of that caring just came from a healthy fear of Din. Not that you thought Din would actually hurt either man. They were friends and this had very clearly been your fault.

“Did you do this?” You pointed to your hand and Aayla nodded with a sheepish grin. “It’s good. It’s really good, Aayla.” The woman beamed at your praise and you chuckled. “Did you get any scans yet?”

“Yes. We did.” She brought over a datapad and opened up the program that held all the imaging. You took it from her to look over your own scans and winced. Dank farrik. Hairline fractures on your pinky and middle finger, and an actual break in your ring finger. No wonder you blacked out. “Do we need to get you to a facility? Does your finger need surgical correction?”

You praised her line of thought then shook her head. “The fracture will heal itself once splinted. In order to test the tendons I need the swelling to go down just a bit so I can try moving my finger.”

Aayla stepped away and then returned with a cream and some ice. She got you situated on the cot and lifted the bed so you could lay back without being entirely flat. She was going to be a good doctor one day. After she went through school and all that. You leaned your head against the pillow and shut your eyes. It would be best for you to get some solid shut eye while the e-bacta was in your system. 

Since reaching Mandalore, everything had happened fast. Back to back to back, Din had what should have been considered one of the worst days of his life. Nearly dying three times qualified as a terrible day. However, Din was not dead. More than just not dead, he was redeemed. 

Din Djarin was no longer an Apostate.

He was Mandalorian once more.

That alone could make this a wonderful day, but the knowledge that this meant he could proceed in pursuing you was overwhelming. If he thought about it for too long it’d send him to his knees. The first thing he wanted to do was call you, but that plan was derailed when Imps bombed Bo Katan’s home. Considering the woman had saved his life, and watched Grogu when he was unable, the least he could do was get her to safety. Maybe the covert wasn’t the best place for Bo Katan Kryze, but Din needed to go there anyway so why not use it as a shelter.

As Nima liked to say: two porgs, one blaster.

When everything had settled, the first thing he did was find a quiet spot to call you. Grogu was passed out in his arms and Bo Katan was sitting not too far away in contemplation.

“You alright?” Din questioned.

Bo hummed. “Suppose so. Not how I expected this day to go, but…”

“I’m sorry. About your home.” 

“...Thank you.” Bo said after a beat of hesitation.

Din could tell she was still in distress. Lost in her thoughts. He could’ve pressed further, attempt to help her some more, but it would have to wait. If Din didn’t talk to you right now he’d burst. The excitement of being redeemed mingled with the knowledge that for a brief moment today he thought everything had been over. 

He activated the holocall and leaned against the cave wall. 

When your face appeared on the screen, Din sighed in relief. Being trapped on Mandalore, sending Grogu away, your face had been the last one he thought of. “Ner kar’ta.” He breathed out. Din didn’t even care that Bo was only a few feet away and able to hear his entire conversation. “You are…”

He was going to call her a sight for sore eyes, but you looked more than exhausted. Something was wrong. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and you didn’t have that same glow that Din admired. Before he could question, you spoke, “You can call! That means you’re not on Mandalore anymore, right? How’d it go?”

“I am redeemed.” Din said with pride and despite how tired you look the smile you wore brightened in excitement. You cried out about how happy you were for him and how proud and how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. Hearing that praise from you was somehow better than hearing the Armorer confirm he was no longer an Apostate. Din shook his head, deciding to steer right back to his concern, “You look terrible, ner kar’ta.”

You forced a chuckle. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever known, and every day I get to see you, bask in your beauty,  is a blessing I am undeserving of.” Din said sincerely and he watched your face twist in mild embarrassment. Your smile turning cute and sheepish. He grew serious once more. “But right now, you look ill. Hurt. So I will ask again," Din shook his head, "What. Is. Going. On?”

You twisted your lips, weighing pros and cons, and then with a sigh you lifted your right hand so it came into the screen’s view. Din’s eyes widened at the swollen and discolored look of your fingers wrapped in a makeshift split. 

“Me’bana!? Cuyir gar o'r aaray??” Din barked. Grogu stirred briefly in his arms. “Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc!?”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, honey.” You sighed with a small amused smile.

If Din wasn’t so caught off guard and worried about the state of your hand, the nickname that fell from your lips so easily would have made him flush in warmth. Din shook his head. “Are you alright?? What happened?”

“It was stupid.” You shook your head. “Cleaning the bacta tank, I slipped up. Got my hand caught in the filter door.” That wasn’t like you. Typically, you were very cautious and careful with your work. “It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

Din narrowed his eyes at your wording. “How much time has passed? When did this happen, ner kar’ta?”

“...Yesterday?” You said it like it was a question.

“Ner kar’ta.”

“Yesterday morning.” You confirmed sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were on Mandalore. No service.”

Din tilted his head, “You tried to hide it at the start of this conversation. If I didn’t press, would you have told me about your accident?” You pressed your lips together and winced. Din blew out a breath of air. “Dank farrik. Ner kar’ta…” 

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You said softly with a frown.

Din shook his head again, keeping his voice firm. “I need to know these things.” The thought that you were injured was staggering, but knowing you could be hurt and keep it from him? All he wanted in life was to protect you. Take care of you. “You need to tell me⏤”

“Why?” Bo suddenly called out loud enough that your face morphed into confusion at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Did you tell her about how you nearly died three times today?”

Din flinched and your jaw popped open. The exhaustion seemed to be wiped away and replaced with a mix of anger and shock. “You what!?” Din began to speak but you cut him off. “You nearly died today!? Din! What the hell is the mystery voice talking about!?”

“Well, it wasn’t⏤”

“You were gonna scold me about my broken hand and not mention multiple near death experiences??” Din winced. That was a fair point. He didn’t see it from that side. The sight of your discolored and swollen digits had blinded him about every other detail of the day. “Din Djarin⏤ Do you have a middle name? I want to yell your entire name at you but⏤ never mind. Just⏤ Maker! Are you alright? Are you safe? Is Grogu⏤”

Din cut in, “Yes. To all of it. Grogu is safe,” He lifted his arm enough that she could see the snoozing boy, “I am safe, I am okay. In fact, I am less injured than you are right now.” He sighed. “And, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me. I just… I panicked.”

Your gaze softened but the concern remained. “Yeah. I guess… As long as you guys are safe.”

“We are, and we’ll be home soon.” Din promised. Your lips twitched up into a smile. “Who is taking care of you right now?”

You chuckled. “Uh, me?”

Din hummed in displeasure. He should be there to help you⏤ to take care of you. It killed him to be this far from you. A part of him wanted to stand up right now and fly home, but he needed to talk to the Armorer tomorrow. He needed to have something forged.

“Maybe you should stay with Nima…”

“I can take care of myself, Din.” You grinned. “I’m the greatest doctor in the galaxy, remember?” Din chuckled under his breath. “You really are okay, though?”

Din nodded. “I swear to you, ner kar’ta.”

They only spoke for a few more moments because Din was adamant you go to bed even though it wasn’t very late in Nevarro. You just looked so exhausted. Maybe he’d talk to Karga about a vacation. If they got the new physician to move to Nevarro then the city could afford to spare you for a few days. Vanth could stay a little while longer to cover for him. Din just wanted to take you somewhere nice⏤ somewhere relaxing. Though he should probably focus on actually courting you before he starts thinking of honeymoon options.

When the holocall ended, Din glanced over at Bo who simply tilted her head at him. He scoffed, “Really?”

“Seemed like pertinent information.”

“Your hand still looks like shit.”

You glanced up at Nima with a tight lipped smile. “A little rude considering I saved your hand.” She snickered. She wasn’t wrong. The swelling had improved but the bruising still looked Maker awful. Though, with Aayla’s help you were able to get a real splint on it. “I thought you were bringing me lunch.”

“I thought you were going to come with me to lunch.” She argued.

Luckily, the clinic wasn’t busy. So you shrugged out of your white coat, leaving you in just your scrubs, and then followed Nima who was leading the way with a bounce. There had been no further news on the Kurt situation which left you in turmoil. However, Nima had been doing her best to distract you and anytime anxiety did try to wash over you, you just reminded yourself that your boys would be home in the next 48 hours or so. 

“The Razor Crest project is going so well.” Nima clapped her hands. “I mean, we’re still missing some key pieces, but Peli and I are nearly done with the engine rebuild. Can you believe that?” You hummed in interest. It’d be nice to see it eventually. The Crest was such a strong presence in so many of Din’s story and Grogu’s pictures. Obviously, this wasn’t the exact same. Version 2.0, but still. “Peli said⏤”

The sound of a low rumble filled the air. As you, Nima, and all the other citizens standing outside paused to listen to the sound, a large shade began to cover the city. As if the sun was being blocked out. You looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge ship.

“Shit. That’s a Corsair.” Nima mumbled in shock. Just as the words left her mouth, an alarm began to blare loudly and the voice of a droid called for evacuation to the lava fields. You didn't even have a spare second to panic because that’s when blaster fire rained down on Nevarro.

mando'a translations

ner kar'ata: my heart Me'bana?: What happened? Cuyir gar o'r aaray?: Are you in pain? Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc?: How were you injuried?

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis

Has this been done yet ? But i want mando to rescue his fav prostitute (maybe smut👀) I know he would care about her and form a real connection. Happy birthday btw 🎉

One Last Time

A/n: Not by me, that's for sure and thank you!!! He really would, he's such a sweetie in this one, he just doesn't know how to communicate well

Warning: Smut, human trafficking (extremely hinted at), dark themes, I notice a lot of the fics with prostitute reader Mando's mean so in this one he's a sweetie, Mando being delusionally in love, Dark Fic!!!

“I’m taking you.”

You don’t look surprised; you show a hint of sadness before you compose yourself again.

You grab his hand, pressing it to your neck as if you wanted to tempt him to caress your warm skin.

Your forefinger presses against his. He feels the small disk underneath your skin. Then you angle his hand up, the tips of his fingers touching your earlobe.

They apparently have you recorded and tracked. Like an animal.

“I belong here.”

He shifts closer, the cheap material of the couch crinkling from the movement.

“What if you belonged to me?”

Instead of them.

“I don’t belong to anyone.”, you say, like you were trained to do.

He was quiet for a moment. You sat still. He liked looking at you, especially when you weren’t doing an act. Even if you couldn’t see his face, you knew he was frowning.

Your smile was too teasing, too curved. Fake.

“What if I purchase you?”

That caught you off guard. You blink before you respond in humor.

“Your silly, why would they put a price on a person? Even if I did have one, you wouldn’t be able to afford me, even with your beskar.”

He nods as if you were discussing war plans. Crossing out his options and making new ones. His thumb absentmindedly smoothing over your cheeks.

“What if I steal you away?”

Your eyes widen and you swallow thickly. He can see you think, your eyes flickering to him and the door repeatedly.

Then, as you take a breath in and look at him straight on, you present a challenge with a smirk, your eyes brightening with hope.

“That’s if you can steal me away. I doubt it. There are guards at every door, cameras at every angle the second you step out the building.”

You press a kiss to his gloved palm and sit up quickly, his hand running down your arm and to your hand. //

“Y’know, I know most of the guards actually.”

He tilts his head. He can feel heat build in his stomach at your words. He knows who they are, they don’t particularly look nice.

“They talk to the workers when we wake up for breakfast, they slack off…”

You look to him pointedly.

“I don’t even think they pay attention to their own job at that point.”, you sigh.

You hope the droids looking over the footage and sound didn’t pick up the conversation.

For a moment you think of what would happen if they caught you now. A shiver runs down your spine. They would probably ban him from the city at that point, they had the power to do that.

The fear of never seeing him again was far greater than the punishment they would deal you, you realize.

His hand squeezes lightly, stopping your fingers from trembling and directing your focus to him again.

“Do they-?”

“No. They know I’m off limits.”

He nods, staring at the way you try to smile, your eyes reddening and your lashes starting to stick together from the moisture of your welling tears.

“Good.”

You chuckle when he stands, moving to your door.

“I’ll be back soon.”

For a moment your smile falters.

The soon coming after his usual sentence was new. He was always truthful, like that one time he mentioned how he didn’t really care for the uncomfortable lingerie you were forced to wear or how he only chose you because of the way you stood as the head of the brothel showed him around the rooms.

Soon was never going to be the truth for him. He had bounties to hunt, things to take care of and he would come by every two weeks.

His initial request of having himself be your sole “client” cost him some heavy credits. You fucked him the whole night when he came back, just having found out all of your other appointments were cancelled for good, or at least as long as he comes back to pay the next time he returned back for services.

He knew he would be gone, he never lied to you. So the soon was peculiar. You smile genuinely when he reaches for you one last time, urging you to stand and dismiss him.

His helmet makes you shiver, he started bumping heads with you whenever he left two months ago. He said it was like a goodbye kiss, and for once, in a long time, you were the one slightly swooning.

You willed the joyful tears in until you shut the door, collapsing into yourself in a heap on the floor.

They don’t care if you cried after your customers left, they just didn’t want the loose threads to show when the services were being given.

——————————

He lied to you.

The two weeks were up, you cringed when they handed you a tablet, names upon names of clients scheduled for the next week.

You trusted, you gave your companionship to a man whose face you've never seen. You've fantasized of a salvation, of freedom.

An inkling of trust was built when he reassured you that nothing had to happen, that he just wanted to get rid of the pin he was given in exchange for a bounty.

The 'boss' didn't care that much, especially since he kept coming back, even if his free services were up. He wanted to take up your time, give you rest from the others that would come your way.

He thought himself oh so noble, helping someone out, bringing a peace of mind.

It suddenly became something much more, one night he was pent up, tense, and heaving with energy. He had lost a bounty, some credits, but he was always on schedule for you.

You did like you were supposed to. You moved to relieve, expecting him to push you away. Preparing for him to slap your hand away softly like all of the other times, making you chuckle from the shake of his head.

You were surprised when he didn't move to remove your hand gliding up his thigh.

He didn't stop you when you reached into his pants, pressing your robe down so that you could straddle his thighs and so he could cup your breasts.

He was hooked the second you licked your hand covered in his spill. His chest heaved, his hands gripping your hips, your robe now discarded on the floor.

The thought of someone else seeing you like this made him pause. He decided then that this sight was only for him.

You guess he was like the rest. Demented in his mind games, manipulating you to think he had ever cared for you as a person.

You should have known you became an object the moment he started fucking you.

It was only a matter of time before got tired.

——————————

You lay in bed, eyes wide open, watching as the drapes to your room flowed and flapped from the wind.

You dread going to sleep only to wake up with a man that wasn't Mando coming into your bedroom. It was unfair you thought.

Why did he get your hopes up?

As you start to let your eyes droop closed you hear a tapping on your window. You choose to ignore it. But the next time was louder.

You were upset, throwing on a robe and grumbling towards the window to see what the commotion was. You hoped it wasn't those men again, throwing pebbles at windows in order to get the attention of the workers.

Your breath rushed out of your lungs. His shadow looms over the floor, the city lights blooming behind him. His hand was flat against the glass, his fingers tapping repeatedly now that you were up.

His chest fills with pride at the fact that you rush to open the frame. His hulking form squeezing through precariously. You push him inside, closing the curtains quickly.

He chuckles when you look him over, running your hands over his arms and chest, looking for signs of altercations.

"They didn't see you?", you ask, panicked.

He pats his waist, his blaster sitting nicely in his holster on his thigh.

Typically, all weapons were taken at the door, you've only seen him as bare as he could be, armor and his flight suit only. It was jarring to see how many weapons he carries on his person; you wonder how much it weighs, he was practically covered in ammunition and guns and knives.

"I took care of them."

He was dangerous you realized, a splatter of red almost glowing on his helmet. He grabs your hands, and you continue to stare, your body tense in contempt.

His helmet makes you shiver, he slouches so that your foreheads touch. He sighs.

"We need to leave."

You step back.

"We need to get the others..."

He stands straighter, he sighs again. His hands now at his sides.

"We don't have time."

"Please. I've known them for the longest, they deserve freedom too."

He nods. For a brief moment standing still with his hands on his hips. You purse your lips, moving to sit on your bed as he contemplates, most likely coming up with a plan.

"What took so long?", you ask, hating the silence.

The glint coming from his pocket makes you pause. The device in his hands was box like, probes by the sides.

He kneels before you, pressing it against your hands and when you stare down at him in question he points to your neck.

"It deactivates it, I had to search for one that pairs with yours."

From his pocket he takes out a syringe, you tense. You hated medical equipment, you hated needles. Anything to do with doctors. It was never a good sign when you had to go to the doctors.

"It hurts. Badly. It's better if you're numbed for it."

You shake your head.

"I can handle it."

His helmet tilts.

"No, you can't.", he says plainly.

His hand grips onto your shoulder, you try to push him away. The needle was getting closer to your neck, you keep on shuffling back until your body hits the headboard.

"It's for your own good."

You shake your head, his grip on your legs was solid, unmoving. He crawls over you and you close your eyes tightly, knowing you couldn't fight back even if you wanted to.

You feel a prick slightly above the bump on your neck.

For a moment you thought it was over with, and then he pressed down, the liquid now moving through the needle and making you yell out.

He shushes you. It felt like he was shoving half molten metal down your veins. You start to get drowsy, from your head to your toes and all around your body, you felt heavy.

A minute after you lay limp in your bed, he pulled the sheets over you, you could barely move your eyes, your fingers twitching to reach his hand.

He leaves you there and for a moment you think he was going to leave you in the brothel entirely, paralyzed with whatever he injected you with, feeling numb even to the sheets beneath you.

But as he raised the device up to your neck your eyes widened ever so slightly.

He was right. It would have hurt. You could feel the tingle of it, a slight prick as it turned on. You let out a breath of relief when it stopped, but then he lowered the probes to your arm, directly on top of your birth control device.

You watched as it vibrated under your skin, the same prickles you felt from your neck now on the inside of your arm.

The drug's effects were starting to work more efficiently, your eyes started drooping, your hearing getting cloudy and your fingers starting to lose sensation.

The last thing you heard was the sound of whooshing, a heat that you could feel from where you laid, crinkling with energy. His footsteps resound around the room, the door sliding open.

You hear the shouts and screams seconds after, right as you lose consciousness.

You wake in his arms, a fur blanket covering you from the cold of the underground city of Coruscant. You recognize your surroundings as a hangar, a large ship in the center, shiny and luxurious.

Your surprise gasp as the hull of the ship opened amused him, he chuckled as you grip onto his shoulders as he walks up the ramp. It was very clean, seats and amenities lining the walls of the hull, the lighting low and warm.

You pull the coat over your back as your feet touch the ground, warmed from the heater. He leads you to a seat, you yelp when you almost sink into the plush couch, it was soft, and well padded.

Suddenly the ship lurches, and you wait a few moments, the windows open and you could see as you rise to the upper levels of Coruscant. You finally see the sun and you stare until it felt as if your eyes were burning.

His hand meets your shoulder, kneading into it.

"Don't cry.", he whispers.

"You're safe now."

You smile at him, wiping tears you didn't even know were falling and chuckling.

"Thank you.", you stutter through emotion.

He likes the way you smile, and he likes the way you smile because of him.

——————————

You stare into the mirror. It was strange to see the bandage on your neck, you didn't even remember him taking out the chip, or the small pill shaped metal on your arm.

He told you it was better that way, the small incisions he made would heal quickly, if you were conscience, you would have risked messing him up.

The bandage was expensive, bacta patches were hard to come by, especially the good kind, but bacta shots and cream?

The cut was practically gone as you peeled off the bandage. You stare amazed at how neat the line was.

And then you look around the bathroom. It was big for a ship, some products were lined against the walls, high end shampoos and conditioners that you've seen be gifted to some of the girls at “work”.

Oils, hair masks, lotions and waxes were sprawled around the cabinets. Makeup you couldn't even recognize their uses for as well. A bottle of lube makes you chuckle.

There was even an array of options for your shower head. You tried all of the various pressures and settings, deciding on a harsher spray, wanting to rid the feeling of Coruscant off of your body.

You stay there for a while, half amazed at how the water was still running warm and trying to take your mind off of where you were before.

Your anxiety raises when you think or where you were going to travel to, where you would stay, and what if they somehow found you again.

He startles you as the door slides open. You clutch your chest, hiding and for a brief moment, shaking your head from the way your heart beats out of its chest.

He starts taking pieces of his armor off, you let your hands fall to your sides. He was wordless whenever he came into your room. Most of the talking was done after the deed was done.

You step from the shower, starting to lift your legs out of the tub but he lifts his hand for you to stop. You look at him quizzically.

You appreciated that about him. He liked you to feel good too, comfortable. He was the only person to make you cum, the only one that gets turned on by hearing your moan and squirm in his hold.

He was good with his hands that was for sure, he even gave you a pair of his gloves once. Something to remember him by as you got lonely.

You were concerned when he stood in front of you, unmoving, his hands flexing nervously.

When you extend your hand he takes it, you've done this several times, calming someone nervous, someone unsure of themselves. You didn't expect yourself to do this for him.

"You know me. Don't be nervous."

He nods stiffly, and he does the unexpected. Using the hand that was held in your own he lifts his helmet. You stare and suddenly he feels younger, worrying if his crush likes his haircut, if you like the way his nose sloped downwards into his plush lips, if you thought the patches of grey on his beard were attractive or not.

Your eyes narrow and he feels vulnerable, much more vulnerable than you even if you were the one completely naked, at least he still had his underwear on.

"What if I told you I expected you to be orange."

He tilts his head down, smiling sheepishly, his full head of hair attracting your hand like a magnet. It was soft, of course it would be if he wore the helmet all the time.

Your hand tightens over his arm, pulling him in to stand at the edge of the tub.

"Who knew I got lucky with such a looker."

He finally sees you, without a filter, without cameras or the helmet. He couldn't help but lean in, to feel your lips against his even if he didn't really know how to kiss.

But you stop him, a finger on his lips, tapping playfully. He didn't see the way you swallowed harshly, too focused on the way you smiled teasingly.

Of course, why would you want your first kiss to be in a random ship's fresher. How unromantic of him.

"No kissing, Mando."

"Din.", he corrects breathily. "Din Djarin. T-that's my name."

You cup his cheek lovingly. He was giving you the eyes, it was strange. It was making your heart race ever so slightly. Maybe, you thought, this last time before he left you god knows where, should be special.

You kiss right next to his lips, pushing down his boxers, and gripping his cock. He kicks off the fabric with his foot before getting in the tub, crowding your towards the wall, having a spray of water cascade over your both as you kiss down his throat.

You were surprised when he took the lead, holding your hips against his and leaning down to nip at your jaw. His tongue lays flat against your skin, drinking in the water that slides down your neck and to your clavicle.

It was holy. It touched your skin, making a path down towards your breasts and to the peaks of your nubs.

He sucks it in greedily, moaning as if he were drinking water for the first time, thirsty for more. Your taste was intoxicating, it was making him feral at the thought of sucking something else from your nipples.

More sweet and nutty than the floral taste of your skin.

Now that your birth control was deactivated, he thinks that in the next few months, it could be possible.

He moves further down, your hands caressing through his wet locks as he bites over parts of your flesh, gripping and squeezing as he explores you with open mouthed kisses.

He gets down on his knees. He stops and stares in between your legs.

"Can I...?"

You shift but his arms around your waist keep you still.

"No one's ever... I don't know if it'll be good."

He feels many emotions at once. In one hand it's pride that he gets to be the first to have you like this, on the other it's the anger that no one had ever attempted to.

"I don't want to dissapoint you..."

In our last time you wanted to add, but he shushed you before you could speak.

He looks up at you, his palm pushing your thigh up until it was over his shoulder. You swallow thickly, feeling his breath on your folds. He licks his lips curiously.

He's never done this before, but he's seen holos, holos of men and women going down and spreading legs, kissing and sucking as if they were real lips. Making their partners shout out into the air, their backs arching and their hips twitching to their mouths.

He's seen how the crook of a finger can make someone gush mouthfuls of arousal. He wanted that for you, he wanted to do that for you.

He dreamt of the day he could finally taste you.

He shuffled forward and your back met the wall making you shiver so hard you had to grip onto his head to stabilize. You chuckle awkwardly. He was looking up at you, his head level with your mound.

His intense gaze broke and he pushed his face into you. He adjusts you upwards, making your back slide against the walls.

You were on the tips of your toes, the backs of your shoulders pressing harshly against the metal walls and your back arching, pressing your hips into his mouth so that his tongue could slide in deeper.

This was amazing you thought, all of the years of giving pleasure and just now getting it back in return because of Mando-no-Din. It made you sad, it made tears fall from your eyes from how lucky you got.

You would pray to whoever gave him the pin in the first place, get down on your knees and bow for leading the only kind soul you've ever known in your life to you.

He moans for you, for the musky taste of your slick, now spreading around his face and down his throat from the spraying water. He kneads your thigh, his other hand pressing against your ass so that he could push you closer to his face, so that he could tighten your legs around his head.

He wanted to suffocate, he only wanted to live to please you.

His fingers run over your opening and his lips wrap around your clit. When he pushes in two of his thick digits you cry out, your hands moving over his head to pulls at his locks He sucked relentlessly, furiously as he feels his scalp burn.

His hand thrusts quickly, and he licks greedily from your opening, interchanging between his mouth sucking on your clit to lapping at you as more of your arousal is scooped out with the curl of his fingers.

He hits the sensitive spot at the edge of your opening every time he flicks his hand.

Your chest was burning, your stomach tightening as he continued, your orgasm approaching like a train, hard and heavy and knocking the breath out of you.

Your whole body burned when he continued despite the way your cunt tightened around his fingers so tightly he couldn't even move, despite the way you practically threw your head back against the shower walls and gave an animalistic cry.

"Din!", you shouted. He growled at that.

A harsh suck on your swollen and overused nub finally makes your body shake uncontrollably, your voice was lost to half silent groans and the way your body was willing your lungs to stop working.

You gushed over his hand, the lower half of his chest covered in you. He licked what he could, the water washing off most of it from his chest.

He stares at your pussy, amazed. It was so swollen and you were still twitching. Even as he moved your thigh off his shoulder and gently put you to your feet, he could still taste you in his mouth.

He hummed from the way you clutched onto his shoulders, shaking and only able to stand for so long before your legs gave out and he had to lift your legs up and around his waist.

He holds you, angling the showerhead against your back and head so that you wouldn't get cold.

Your hot breaths against his neck made him shiver. You chuckle when you stop shaking, finally able to take a full breath in without panting.

He presses you against the wall again, your legs still tightly wound against his waist, your pussy rubbing against his cockhead, hard and aching.

He groans when you shift against the wall, reaching to the base of his cock and angling towards your opening. When you tighten your legs he groans, simultaneously pushing himself into you as your ankles lock together.

You stay like that, leaning most of your weight against the wall, reaching for bottles of shampoo and conditioner and massaging it into his scalp.

He moans every now and then, fighting the urge to bury his head back in your neck when you pull him back to rinse off his head with a smirk.

You wash him with a sponge, moaning softly and stopping to close your eyes and rock gently against him every now and then.

"Fuck, Din, you've always been huge.", you murmur, catching your breath against his collarbone.

He thrusts when you rinse him off completely, getting lost in the way you moan his name so sweetly, the way you claw at his back and clench down tightly.

The water stops, already run out and you don't even notice from the steam surrounding you, both of your bodies producing enough heat to keep you warm.

His thumb lazily traces around your folds, moving over your clit when you bite into his shoulder, sucking bruises after your, this time less powerful, orgasm.

He grunts, pushing as deep as he could, your hips flush against each other as he cums for what feels like minutes.

You both catch your breath. You rub his back and rest your head against his shoulder as he keeps you plugged with his cock.

“I love you.”, he moans, kissing the side of your head.

Your hands tighten around him as he moves, curling around the back of his neck.

You moan lightly from the way you bounce lightly on his cock as he carries you to a room, as spacious as the bathroom and just as full of goodies you didn't know the uses for.

He was emotional you assured yourself, he just came in you without protection, your taste probably still on his tongue. It was just an overdose of oxytocin running through his body. Of affection.

He didn't mean it.

“Flattered.”, you murmur. He chuckles while lying down with you on top of him. A small oof coming from your lips as he adjusts on the bed.

His hands wound themselves around you and as you finally dried amongst the warm air, he pulled the sheets up your body, covering you both completely with the scent of cleanliness.

Your head rests against his chest, your stomach on his.

You didn’t do cuddles. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t before. But now, with Din holding you close, feeling his breath as his chest lifted and fell, you think you liked them.

——————————

It was strange seeing him with his armor again. You felt honored, as if you knew a secret no one else did. But when he led you outside, wearing clothes that fit you perfectly and that were of the finest quality you've ever seen, you thought he was jesting you.

Of all places to dump you in, he decided that Tatooine was where you belonged?

Just as you were about to plead for him to at least take you to the planet over a short woman with a strong mane of curly hair pops out behind a pile of crates, small droids following behind her.

"Take this piece of space trash out of my hangar Mando!"

She stalks to him with a wrench in her hand, but stops when she sees you, slightly behind him and sticking close to his side.

"Oh not you sweetheart. That."

She points to the ship; you nod as if you understood.

"What happened to the starfighter?"

She gasps, not allowing him to speak. He sighs.

"Don't tell me it was incinerated by the imperials again."

You turn, clutching his arm in worry.

"Imperials?"

He turns between you both quickly, stuttering.

"No. It's fine. I just have special cargo at the moment."

She looks between you both, your hand lightly on his forearm and his chest puffing beside you.

"aaah. I see."

She eyes you up and down and you shift on your feet, feeling nervous.

He told you he was going to introduce you to one of his friends, someone who was going to help you. He also said that she knows about you. How much is what you worry about.

She turns suddenly, shouting over her shoulder about a gift she had for a green baby? and that she had to scrounge around for it.

You look back at him, and he shrugs shaking his head.

She came back, procuring a small doll and shoving it into his arms as the tiny droids dragged you by the pants to the side, a small door sliding open and revealing a room.

It lifts its arms, as if shouting 'ta da'. You smile softly, imaging a life here. At least the start of it.

You think of maybe learning a few things from Peli, start working along with her, maybe expand to other towns in Tatooine.

Your heart warms at the prospect of friends, maybe finding someone to spend your life with. Someone kind and caring. Someone who didn't see you as an object.

That would be nice, you think.

Peli shouts your name. You walk over to them, Din was discussing something with her, expressing himself with his hands clasped together in front of him as if he were explaining something to a child.

You chuckle when she waves her hand, pulling you roughly by the arm to her side.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll take care of her, alright?"

You chuckle, she was growing on you.

But then she let go of your arm and Din stepped forward, his hands placed on your waist and pulling you forward. You look up at him, your brows furrowed. The way he was holding you was intimate.

"Din, what-"

His helmet made you shiver, he stays still against you for a while, holding you close. He backed away slightly, his hands caressing over your arms.

His hand lands heavily on your shoulder, Peli was watching intently.

"You'll be safe here. I'll come back once I finish preparing our home for your arrival.”

Our?

Your head perks up at that. You look up confused. His words repeated in your head. Our... home?

But he was a client. A friend, someone you trusted. That was all he was, you thought he knew that too.

You repaid him for rescuing you in the shower, you didn't think that you owed him anything after that. You wanted a normal life, with normal friends and a normal spouse and normal kids.

Surely he didn't think you would stay with him after everything that happened. After everything it seemed he was dealing with in his own life.

His palm covers your cheek, his thumb rubbing over it lovingly.

You smile, he was too lovesick to realize it was the same face you made when you were attending other clients. He leaves with a nod to Peli, his hand sliding down your arms and squeezing your hand.

She gives you a once over when his ship was finally out of sight. You looked dazed, you were probably tired. And by the crease of your eyebrows when he mentioned home, you were out of the loop.

“He lives on a planet near Mandalore. That’s where he’s taking you. Your going to meet his son, Grogu..”

Son?

Now you were even more confused. Everyone knew about him and his son, they practically became legend.

“You don’t know who he is, do you?”

You shake your head. She sighs exasperated.

“He’s the most powerful mandalorian in the galaxy. He’s their ruler.”, she says proudly.

He was her friend and he saved her life maybe once or twice. She also liked to boast that she practically knew royalty.

“I thought he was a bounty hunter, he told me he was a bounty hunter. That was the reason he could afford-…”

“Oh, he is. But it’s mostly for sport now.”

You stay quiet.

“He talks about you all of the time. This woman he met that makes his heart squeeze- my words not his- he’s not the sentimental type, at least not like that.”

You seemed fidgety, your legs shifted, you fiddled with your hands. You were cute she thought. You easily flustered.

“You wanna know something?”

She didn’t look to you for a response.

“He told me once that he thought you would be a good queen.”

Your heart stopped, your eyes were watering.

“Aw don’t cry! I hate to ruin the surprise, it’s just I heard so much about you! I couldn’t help it, I’m excited.”

You smile, wiping your face, forcing yourself to appear content.

“He said he’ll make you the most beautiful wedding too. You two will make such cute babies afterwards, I’ll even lend you the nurse droid I just fixed up. It’s in the back actually let me go get it.”

She scurries to a storage room full of scraps and metal, leaving you standing and looking up to the sky, wondering how the hell you were supposed to manage so many surprises at once.

——————————

A/n: I like the idea of Din just going to tatooine and spilling his life to Peli, failing to mention that he met this really stelar woman in an illegal brothel 💀

Probably blushing and talking it up about future baby names and his entire imaginary wedding in one night half drunk

I’ll write a fic about it or sm i don’t know I need ideas for Din being vulnerable and talking about his love life

Peli still offers to babysit even when Din said he wanted a whole army of children; she thinks they’ll come out the womb with full beskar armor low key and thinks that would be super cute

wayfaring stranger | prologue | rhett abbott x reader

Next Chapter | Masterlist

synopsis: betrayal sends Rhett veering further West, searching for answers and searching for himself. Instead, he finds you.

warnings: 18+, minors dni. Will be smut, violence and swearing

…

Rhett’s been saying that he’s going to get out of here for about as long as he can remember. Even before he was angry enough to say it out loud, the promise had been scrawled with adolescent lettering, held within the pages of a leather bound journal that had been a gift from his grandfather.

There were days that Rhett really meant it. Some days he meant it more than others. Some days, it was more of an affirmation than a plan. Leaving the courthouse on that day in April, looking his childhood sweetheart in the eye and telling her that he wasn’t coming back — that seemed more binding than any of the words he had told her before.

The sign looked bigger in his dreams. The Welcome to Wyoming, Forever West, planted in the dirt on the border of Montana — when Rhett had dreamed about covering it in dirt as it grew smaller in his rear view mirror, it had looked bigger. It had meant more.

His blue eyes watch the sign grow smaller. The road behind him isn’t empty like it always is in his dreams. There’s a minivan behind him, the tired brunette behind the wheel is bickering with a child in the backseat. Behind her, a truck that doesn’t look all that different from Rhett’s. He wonders if their journey is the same as his. He’s certain it’s not.

It’s a Wednesday when Rhett leaves. He doesn’t say a damn word to anyone other than Maria, they’ll just try to ask him to stay. The road behind him isn’t empty, and neither is the road ahead of him. It’s different than in his dreams, but not in a bad way.

Truthfully, it’s like a pinch to remind him that he’s actually awake. That he did it.

Radio off, everything he owns on the bench beside him.

In his dreams, Rhett makes it further. Drives until he hits the horizon and then some. On that Wednesday, he drives until he can barely keep his eyes open and he’s got a cramp in his calf from the stiff clutch pedal in his old truck. He doesn’t quite hit the horizon, but the glowing neon of a faded motel sign seems far enough there and then.

He has some money with him. It’ll get him where he needs to go, wherever that is. Winnings from bull riding and wages from helping out on neighboring ranches. What his father had paid him usually hadn’t ever stretched far enough to make it into the savings.

Rhett pays for a room for the night, though this is the kind of establishment that’s used to more of an hourly rate. He drops his bags onto the spare bed and sits down on the one that’ll be his for the night.

He’s a couple hundred miles in, near Richfield according to the last sign before he took his exit. Idaho. He’s been here a few times before. Riding competitions, auctions and stuff. It’s never made too much of an impression before and it doesn’t on that Wednesday night.

There’s nothing on TV, Rhett hadn’t thought to bring a book when he was packing in the middle of the night. After about an hour, Rhett can’t stand the sound of his own thoughts any longer. He grabs his coat and heads out, walking along the roadside for a bit until he’s at a bar off the side of the road.

Just another lonely stranger, sitting at a barstool. He considers tequila. After the couple of weeks he has had, he could do with something strong. But, he isn’t far enough — he still feels that pull, telling him to go home and won’t risk being too hungover to drive far enough to shake that feeling tomorrow.

In lieu of tequila, Rhett finds it’s warmth elsewhere. After a couple of beers, Rhett settles out his tab. Pleased with his manners and intrigued by how he teeters on the edge of kicked puppy and mysterious outlaw, the pretty girl behind the bar tells him her shift’s almost over.

Always a gentleman, Rhett makes sure she has someone to walk her to her car once she’s ready to go. It’s not his fault that they wind up walking a little bit past her car. It’s her hand that dips into his front pocket and retrieves his motel room key — her lips that drag along his throat, her hand that curls into his hair.

She kisses him goodbye the next morning. He isn’t sure how he feels about it, but her name plays on his mind through the morning and into the afternoon. Carrying with him through Idaho and into Oregon.

It’s a couple of days of that. Driving around, learning new names between thin motel sheets, forgetting them by sundown the next day.

Rhett’s mother always had it in her head that he was a womaniser. He isn’t sure where she got it from, considering that he didn’t have his first kiss until he already had his driver’s license.

The hard part is, Rhett hadn’t ever really known enough about himself to disagree with her. She raised him, saw the intricacies of his growing mind — if that’s what she said he was, then it must’ve been true. So, Rhett let it grow to be true.

He isn’t necessarily proud of it. But, he is somewhat proud of the manner in which he does it. He’s never resorted to a sleazy pick-up line or a bold-faced lie to get a woman into his bed. He’s quiet enough to be mysterious without being mysterious enough to be unapproachable. Handsome enough but not too put together.

It’s been four days since Rhett left Wyoming when he realises that yesterday, he had turned back around. He’s on the cusp of Montana, headed back the way he came.

He had stopped feeling the pull a day or so ago, because he had already turned back towards it. He’s pulled off to the side of Route 212 in the parking lot of a diner, his head in his hands.

This had been predicted. It had been Cecelia’s go to answer every time Rhett had threaten to leave. Go on then, I’ll be here when you get back. She hadn’t meant it with spite, but those words had always struck Rhett like venom. When you get back, because she was so confident that he would.

He hadn’t ever let her explain whether she thought that he’d be back because he belonged there or because she thought he just couldn’t make it on his own.

Either way, she’s wrong.

Rhett just needs a destination — an end goal. After five days of driving through the West, he feels scattered, and it’s just going to get worse. It was kind of stupid, to pack up and leave without anywhere to go.

That’s all he has to do — figure out where he’s going.

He grabs his baseball cap from beside him on the truck bench and secures it over his messy hair, leaving the truck in its space as he heads into the almost empty diner.

He takes a seat up by the counter and orders a coffee from the polite, young waitress standing behind the counter. He probably should eat too, he just can’t stand the thought of more diner food. It takes him a while, but he orders a sandwich finally. It’s the only thing on the menu that contains a vegetable and his body’s going to give out if it doesn’t get one of those soon.

With no one here now to tell him not to play with his food, Rhett sits distracted. Under fluorescent light, calm country playing over a radio in the kitchen, he takes his time to look around him as he picks at his sandwich.

There’s a pinboard that sits behind the counter. It’s partially blocked by the pale blue uniform shirt of the waitress as she texts on her phone, but Rhett can still see most of it.

Missing people, things for sale, help wanted signs — there’s a mixture of stuff on there. There’s a piece of yellow card that stands out. Ranch Hands Wanted. The Blue Mountain Ranch, MT.

It’s a stupider idea than driving aimlessly around the country, falling right back into what he’s running away from. Still, his mouth makes the decision before his head is on board.

“‘Scuse me,” Rhett’s voice gruff from not speaking much, he quietly clears his throat and brings his coffee cup closer to him. The waitress turns towards him and raises her eyebrows, a polite smile on her lips. “Could I see that notice, please?”

A quick glance behind her to see which one he’s talking about, and then she’s looking at him dubiously. Her smile grows with intrigue. Rhett swallows, watching as the unpins the yellow paper from the board and sets it down on the counter in front of him.

He turns his gaze down and starts to read through the desired skills. All stuff that he’s been doing since he was a kid. Herding cattle, fixing fences. Nothing new except the scenery.

“Thinking of joining the Mountain?” She asks. Rhett looks up at her over the brim of his baseball cap. She’s resting both hands on the counter and leaning forwards slightly, interested.

“Does that sound like a bad idea?” He asks in response, setting the paper down on the countertop beside his coffee. He leans back in his seat and parts his knees. She looks him up and down, pink lips quirking slightly at the edges.

Handsome guy like him, hands that are clearly used to some dirty work — Lena’s got a very good friend on that ranch that could do with a pick me up.

She gives her head a soft shake, “Actually, I think you’d fit right in.”

Rhett hums. He bites the inside of his cheek as he looks down at the printed information. Somewhere to lay low until he’s got a destination in mind doesn’t sound too bad. As long as he’s not back there, it doesn’t matter.

📷 Damon Baker

charm

let her breathe?!?!? 😭😭😭

It had to be done...

Perfectly Intoxicating (Pt.8)

What to Expect: Javier Peña X F!Reader. **SMUT WARNING (Minors do not interact - NSFW). EXTREME FLUFF & More Angst than other parts. Characters and their names have been added to create depth. Far off from the Narcos storyline/timelines at this point. Post Pablo Escobar's death. Pts 1-7 should be read to understand details within the story. Apologies for and errors with spelling/grammar/Spanish. No use to Y/N but physical descriptions/preferences (She is me and I am not sorry). Please Read at your own risk. I am not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Summary: We were working as an assistance to Peña and Murphy in Columbia. You started a casual relationship with Javier that leads to your pregnant with his baby. Sporadic Time Gaps Included in this Pt. Warnings/Mentions of: unprotected PIV sex, fingering, stimulation, orgasms, dirty talk, liquor, swearing, pet names, smoking, breeding k!nk Javi, pregnancy. Theme Song: Value - John Splithoff

A/N: WOW, finally the last official part of my series. (Part 9 will be the Epilogue). IM SORRY IT'S MOSTLY FLUFFY DOMESTIC JAVI BECAUSE IM STARVING FOR HIS LOVE. (The Epilogue will be the smuttiest of smut, the fluff, and a Steve and reader reunion - I promise). As this series comes to a close I want to say thank you so so much to all my readers. I have my new Javi series in the works and its going to be written a bit different, but I am so excited to share it. Join my Taglist All Parts will be in my Masterlist And all my FIPs list what I will be putting out next Enjoy!! and your comments and reblogs mean the world to me -g<33

“Javi!” You call out to him as you try to balance on your apartment couch. Your hand barely able to grab the photo hanging above it. Your one leg up on the arm of the couch as you look down at it, debating on trying to balance to get a better angle. Javier comes around the corner with your dish cloth over his shoulder, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “What are you doing, Cariño?” His eyes widening and coming to your assistance. He grabs your hand and helps you off the couch, soon replacing you and grabbing the photo from the wall. 

He hands it to you and your mind replays the moment you brought it home. Your fingers tracing the outline of painted waves. Being the first item to help create the space as your own, now being the last item put away; nurtures the growing feeling of bitter sweetness. 

You wrap up the last unpacked item in newspaper and put it in a box. “You should really stop trying to climb the entire place now,” he stands in front of you. “We don’t want to risk any accidents.”  His hands come to your hips and move to the sides of your pregnant stomach. He gives you a delicate rub before his hands drift to the sides of your face. “That’s why I called you,” you look up at him with puppy eyes. You both smile and he places a soft and slow kiss to your lips.

__

You had reached the end of your term in Columbia and were now ending your fifth month of pregnancy. Everything had gone smoothly, aside from the baby doing gymnastics around 12AM every evening. You had spent the week packing up your apartment to have everything shipped to your moms in Miami. 

You and Javi had booked a trip to Texas that required you to leave tomorrow, to visit Chucho for two weeks. Soon after, you two would be visiting your mom and moving into a rental that Javi found for you. 

Just you… About Mexico…

After a few long nights of discussions, Javi had agreed to take on Mexico after he helped you settle into that rental in Miami.

There was a lot of crying leading up to the decision. Pregnancy hormones weren’t helping and made you more emotional than usual (which was already a lot). Javier was also back to smoking more regularly after trying to quit.

That night after you both found out about the reassignment to Mexico; you had given in to a looming breakdown. “I don’t understand why she would do this to us. I’m fucking pregnant for god’s sake!” You would sit with your back against the bath tub, similar to when you found out you were pregnant. Javier sitting beside you. Your emotions being driven by a replay of all the other agents you could overhear in the office, talking about how Mexico was even more dangerous than Columbia. “Is she trying to get you killed?” You would wail to Javi, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. Your eyes trying to plead with his. Desperately wanting him to retract his acceptance of this new assignment, without you having to ask. 

“I’m sorry baby, Im so, so sorry,” Javier sat with both his arms holding you, as you sobbed into his chest. He kept quiet just rubbing your back, as your cries would eventually die out. Until you were laying in his lap, staring into space. The truth was, Javier was devastated about all of it, too. He wasn’t even sure what to say. In the silence, his mind was running. Javi was trying to think of ways to ‘not fuck this up’. To fix it. To be able to have you and this family life - as well as the job. But he knew deep down that having everything would be impossible. There was always the chance that something like this could happen. That the job could separate you two some more. And what kind of life would that be for you? You, that had been so understanding. Always putting him first when he had first initially told you he would take it. You understood that he needed to do this. But you couldn’t help but feel like a second choice. Talking to yourself repeatedly. ‘What did you expect? you’ve only known the man 12 months and you’re going to have his baby. He could not drop everything for you.’

But as you laid in his lap on the bathroom floor, tears drying sticky against your face, eyes wide open you realized that you have never asked him. Never asked him to choose you as you didn’t want to feel too needy. But it was now or never. As much as you fought it the words slither out of your mouth in regret. “Does she not understand how much I’m going to need you?” you whisper to him, unemotional. 

Javier’s rubbing stops and his face hardens at your words. He had been waiting months for you to say that.

He remembers after he got shot. How he wanted you to say you ‘needed him’. How hearing those few words would make him fight for this, for you.  He helps you to sit up to look at him. “What did you just say, hermosa?” he asks, his eyes looking stunned into yours. You whimper as you pout. “Javi, I need you. Please don’t go.”

From that moment on, Javier changed. Even more than he already had. He had become very clingy and more loving than usual. 

He tried to come up with a solution after your meltdown. He had agreed with the Admin to do Mexico if he was able to come back before the baby’s due date. The shortest time she agreed to was two months, then he could come home when you were moving into the last month of your pregnancy. As if the Administrator couldn’t be more punishing - he was forced into early retirement once the two months were to end. It was either Columbia, Mexico, or Retirement. 

The discussion with you following this newfound decision resulted in Javier excitedly crafting up a plan to move in with you. He was relishing in the idea of taking on ‘full time dad.’ He had insisted on this, as much as you tried to be supportive of whatever he were to decide on. But the plan was set. You both were not pleased about his two month absence, but Javier tried to bring in the positive with 'At least it’s only two months, cariño.’  

Things had gotten better, but you were still dreading those two months apart that were creeping right around the corner. You wouldn’t be getting any sleep, and neither would Javi. You both were constantly anxious about the distance and what that would entail for your relationship. Ever since Javi found out about the pregnancy, he had been spending every night curled up behind you. In your place or his. His arms holding you and the baby tightly. Barely getting any sleep (not like he did much already).  Every shift you would make had his eyes fluttering open and his hands stroking your hot skin. As much as he tried to remain positive for you, the nervousness of not being able to protect you ate at him.  Aside from the distance and loneliness, what kept you up most nights was that Javier would be forced into retiring from a job that had become his life. Everything he worked for. A job that had shaped the very person he was. All because you asked. You couldn’t help but feel a massive amount of guilt. Despite each of your concerns, he was constantly reassuring you that a new life was starting. A life of family. Something he couldn’t pass up on. The fuelling need for connection created a strong instinctive urge to protect you and this baby at all times. The feeling hovering over him like a dark cloud, waiting to pour heavy rain in a drought. 

A rain that would wash away all the fucking bad things in his life. Give him a clean slate.  “After all the death I’ve seen, I need this princesa.” He would murmur to you, before bed, every night since. After all, you needed him. He finally knew for sure now. Call him delusional for believing the rest would fall into place. That is if he could make it home to you, safely. __

“I called Pap yesterday, he’s really looking forward to seeing us.” Javi smiles at you as you walk into the kitchen to throw away some garbage.  You just finished packing the last of your things. Leaving one box open for whatever needs to be thrown in last minute. He’s pushing around meat in a frying pan for dinner. You smile, exhausted. “You okay?” he asks. He knows your silence too well now. “Just have a headache,” you whine and shuffle over to him. You move into the nook of his side, resting your head between his chest and arm, you both watch the meat sizzle on the stove. He puts his arm around you, as he shifts the meat around with the spatula, rubbing your back lightly. “Well, you’ve been packing all day. Why don’t I finish this and run a bath before we eat, huh?” He asks, rubbing your arm. You nod, disassociated by the pounding in your head. After the meat cooks, Javi grabs your hand and you follow him to the bathroom. You sit on the edge of the bathtub while he gets the water running. You peel off your sweater revealing one of Javi’s casual white cotton t-shirts. Your belly pokes out of the bottom and he notices the light pink stretch marks that had creeped upwards towards your belly button.

He stares down at you for a minute, smiling and waiting for you adjust yourself. Your brows come together in annoyance at how increasingly worse the headache has become.  He gets down on one knee and helps you pull off your sweat pants. Leaving you in nothing but your underwear and his t-shirt. His warm hands come over your covered belly and he leans in, giving the bump a gentle kiss. You sigh blissfully, a smile taking over your expression. Mainly because the warmth from his hands feels better than anything right now. Despite the changes to your body, you had grown more confident and happy with yourself. You had expected to feel the complete opposite. Shy and self conscious. But there was something about being the home for a baby that would be the best parts of both you and Javi; made you radiate. You were meant to do this. It also helped that Javi never let you forget how beautiful you are. Always so clingy, even in public. Not letting go of your hand anywhere, for any reason. Always helping you put your shoes on and had even insisted on stopping to buy you maternity wear, when everything over-sized stopped fitting. After all, this came as a second nature to Javier. You were having his baby, therefore he would do anything to make you the most comfortable. You would never have to ask. 

You felt as though you were in a dream, waiting to wake up. Everything felt hazy and way too good to be true.  The dream state would dissipate every once in a while. You would slip back into the present, remembering that you only had one month left together. Before being ripped apart by the assignment. Two months was too long. There wasn’t enough time with him in each day. 

You hold your hands over his as he leaves them on your stomach. His chocolate brown eyes look softly up at you, a big smile plastered on his face. He’s waiting for his baby to kick. “Never does it when you want” you tell him, unable to contain your laughter at his childlike expression. “Sólo doce por la noche, eh? when your mama is trying to sleep,” he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

‘Only twelve at night.’ He had been speaking more Spanish to the baby lately. You thought it was the sweetest thing. Javier was already the best dad and the best boyfriend.

You were finally starting to believe it. That he needs this just as much as you do. You had an ultrasound appointment tomorrow before the flight to Texas. You both hadn’t decided if you wanted to find out the gender or not, but you had felt as though it was a boy. The idea of giving Javi a miniature version of himself, comforted you. He helps you into the bath with one hand. Your body twitching at the hot temperature. “Oh my god, Javi!” you hiss at him as you slowly go to sit. “What’s wrong?” he smirks. “I thought you could handle the heat?” His eyebrow raises as he tries to stifle a laugh. “Not when I’m already being used as an oven for your child.” You huff out a sarcastic chuckle as you manage to sit amongst the bubbles. He sits at the edge of the tub as you groan in pure contentment. “This feels so good,” your eyes flutter closed. Your headache still pounding into your temples. 

Javi sits at the edge of bathtub looking down at you with hooded eyes. His hand dips down into the water and he splashes it lightly up to your exposed collarbones. 

He’s always so attentive. It’s what makes you constantly want to give to him. In more ways than one.

You look at him through your lashes before you eyes fall to below his belt. His erection has grown evident against the restricting fabric. 

He notices you eyeing him. 

“You know what takes headaches away?” He teases, his hand moving lower down your chest. 

He toys each overly sensitive nipple as your lips part. Every time he goes to touch you its like your whole body is lit on fire. It almost hurts how bad you ache for him. 

The way he’s leaning over you has left him hovering above your face, both lustfully staring at one another. 

“I think I know exactly what you’re referring to,” you exhale before coming up to smush your lips against his. 

He stays playing with your breasts as your wet hand grips his face, the other coming to the bulge of his jeans. 

The warm water soaking into him through his clothes makes him snicker against your lips. 

“Someone’s needy,” he groans before kissing you again. 

“And it’s only been what?” He pulls off you, to look at his watch. 

“Less than 10 hours since I made you” He hesitates, as a smirk covers his lips. "shake, baby.” His deep voice has your heartbeat fall between your legs. 

It’s true. 

This morning Javi woke you up by eating you out. Which had been happening a lot lately. 

“I know but,” you bite his bottom lip. 

“I need you again, your fingers-” you drag out before inhaling him into another kiss. 

Your palm subconsciously pushing against him harder in his jeans. 

“Please Javi,” you pout up at him. There it was again - you saying that you needed him, followed by the prettiest ‘please’ to ever leave your lips. 

The way you say his name while you’re begging, gets him kneeling beside the tub. His hand in the water, gliding over your stomach and landing between your legs.  

The way you’ve both been kissing these past two months has been incredible. Enough to almost get you there on it’s own. 

Slow, wet, and sensual.

He had started frantically sucking and biting at your lips and your neck more often too. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. You let his fingers do the work. In the water he’s still able to feel how ready you are for him. He teases your entrance before his fingers lift to rub your clit slowly. “Javi,” you breath out. “So wet already, hermosa.” He growls. He’s right. With all the changes happening to your body, it didn’t take much. This sensitivity of course, made Javi want you even more. He loved the way he could go for hours until you couldn’t take it anymore. Shaking and practically crawling away from him. He could not get enough and it exhausted you both. His index and middle finger slip inside as his thumb keeps rubbing. You shift in the bath, laying back as you watch him.

The way his cheek is still wet from the bath water on your hand. His jaw clenching and his lips parting slightly as he watches you squirm and moan for him. The way his bicep flexes as his fingers continue to pleasure you. 

The vascularity of his arm is enough to almost send you over. Your brows push together and your mouth falls open. 

His fingers curl up to find that soft spot that brings you sweet release. “Javi, I,” your eyes squeeze shut as you’re just about over the edge. He smirks, proud of himself. “You’ve been coming so fast, baby,” he huffs. His lips part further as he looks down at where his hand is between you, as though he can see through the layer of bubbles on the surface. The feel of you squeezing against his fingers makes his cock twitch as it grows harder. “That’s it,” he licks his lips. “Come for me,” he exhales. After a few more fast taps with the pads of his fingers, you finish. Letting out little yelps for him, followed by whimpers, as your hands come up to swipe over your face. He gives a few more teasing strokes between your folds as you flinch. “I can’t -I can’t,” you plead, prying his wrist out from between you. Javi pulls his hand out with a laugh and grabs the shampoo from the side of the tub. He’s been kneeling next to the jacuzzi tub. “Come here,” he motions for you to sit with your back to where he’s sitting. You slide over, still breathless. He squeezes the shampoo into his hands, lathering it into your scalp. His strong fingers giving you one of the best head massages known to man.

Your eyes flutter closed and you wonder how you got so lucky. Moments like this, had you convinced that Javier really was the most caring and compassionate man to walk this earth. You knew that relationships had been off the table for him for a long time.   Javier had way too much love to give and too little time in his schedule. But you could tell he craved this. Craved the connection.    His soapy hands come down to your neck and shoulders, rubbing all the tension out. The headache practically gone. Without even thinking, you let out a euphoric groan. He laughs in return. “That feel good, princesa?” he coos in your ear. You can’t even say anything in return, only little grateful hums. Then you ask him. “How have you managed to stay single?” You both laugh at how ridiculous and random that sounds. “What do you mean by that?” his hands working at the knots in your upper back. “You’ve just been so,” you stare at the blank bathroom wall. “Good to me.” He huffs out another laugh. “It makes me wonder how I’m the one lucky enough to receive all this.”  There is a long silence as his thumbs lighten up in pressure, turning into a soothing stroke. Javi’s heart aches at the thought of no one treating you how you deserved.

“I’ve always been good to women,” his voice low. You don’t say anything, as there is an ounce of jealously pooling deep in your stomach. Thinking about all the woman Javi had given this treatment to before you. Rubbing their back, shampooing them. Sticking his fingers inside them and being with them so intimately, like he has been with you. “It’s never been about being good to a woman. It’s,” he starts, taking his time to get the words out exactly how he wants. “It’s been about the timing and the pain of loss.” His words burn your chest, making your heart ache for him. All this time Javier Peña has been scared to lose a partner. Exactly like you were scared, to be lost. 

He had tried with Maria and failed. Soon after, trying to avoid the hurt by being alone and focusing on the only thing he felt good at - the job. Not realizing that the loneliness had been wounding him, just as bad.

He had confirmed your suspicions about his views on commitment. It being all too familiar, in a way that fuelled motivation inside you to get this right. It’s no wonder you both fit together so well. Two pieces of a puzzle, depraved of fitting together so effortlessly. 

You turn your body to face him as he sits along the outside wall of the bath, your head full of shampoo. “So,” you place your hands over one another, laying your chin on them. Inches away from his face. “Are you afraid to lose me?” you look into his deep brown eyes, eyebrows raising in anticipation. He looks down into his lap, nervously smiling. His head lifting slightly and he looks through his brows at you. “More than you even know.” You watch as his eyes search your face. He’s waiting for some relief from the vulnerability he’s just exposed to you. You search his expression in return, sucking in your lips flat as you debate on saying it. But you do anyways. “I’m afraid to lose you too,” you whisper back. The definition more so meaning you don’t want to lose him by losing yourself. ___ After dinner, Javi helps you change into your new pyjamas and you both settle into bed. As his hand goes to wrap around you like every other night, you turn to face him instead. You both lay on your side, the ceiling fan circulating the cool air through your bedroom. His eyes trail down to your stomach, his hand lifting the side of the tank you’re wearing. His fingers lightly grazing over the vessel being used to create a little human. You watch as his face softens with the twitch of his eyebrows. “Do you want to know tomorrow?” he grumbles, stroking shapes into your warm skin. Your hand stops his, linking your fingers together.  “I don’t know,” you huff, both staring at your intertwined hands. “Do you?” you ask him. His eyebrows raise in thought. “I don’t think that part is super important to me.” You both lay silent for a moment longer. You’re almost asleep before he speaks again. “A little girl,” he mumbles, his index finger running a soft line from the top of your bump, to your belly button. “You think?” You ask smiling, half asleep. He sits in his thoughts before speaking. “I like to think she’s like you,” He smirks.  “Warm,” he looks at your face, pushing a strand of hair from your cheek. “Kind,” a kiss to your nose. “Selfless.” he finishes with a deep kiss to your lips. You continue to kiss slow, wrapping your legs up in one another, your belly grazing against his body. _____

The next morning you meet with Steve while Javier takes care of some last minute stuff in the office. “So, did you decide?” Steve asks. His blue eyes look up at you over his burrito he’s biting into. It’s like he hasn’t eaten in his entire life.  You’re both at a food cart outside, sitting at a wooden picnic bench. He’s referring to the gender of the baby. Wanting to know if you and Javier had made a decision to find out at the appointment today. “We decided to wait,” you tell him, squinting because of the sun. He nods as he chews. “I mean, as long as the baby’s healthy, right?” He tells you, wiping his mouth on a napkin. You both finish your food and head back to the office. You’re officially done your contract so you wait for Javi at his desk. Both your luggage bags parked securely near his desk.   “So I will take the liberty of shipping your stuff back to Miami,” Steve says, walking over with a pen and paper for you to write down your moms address. Steve had agreed to ship all of 5 boxes to Miami and your mom offered to pay for it with part of the money your father left her. His estate left enough to cushion her bank account, help you out if needed, and to pay off their large ocean front home. It was your type of dream home. She had always offered you to stay but you couldn’t imagine living with her for longer than a week. The two weeks visiting were going to be interesting, to say the least. Your mother could be a bit… much.

“Thanks so much Stevie,” you smile at him. Part of you was sad, leaving him in Columbia alone. You were going to miss him. He still had months to go out here, and he was losing Peña as a partner because of you.

He returns the gesture, as you stand in front of him. Sadness lingering behind his eyes. As much as he would never admit it, he was sad to lose you too. He would miss having someone to annoy him. His hand comes to the top of your head, messing with your hair. “Take care of yourself, yeah?” He winks at you, trying to hide the devastation. You watch him intently before throwing your arms around his waist. How did he think you would go without a goodbye hug. He immediately invites you in by snaking his arms around your back. Resting his chin down on the top of your head, before giving it a quick kiss. This was his goodbye. Just then Javier rounds the corner wearing a white button up with an open beige vest. His tight blue jeans hugging his legs, just like the first time you laid eyes on him. Your stomach flutters. He really was Intoxicating - Still is -  Perfectly Intoxicating. He looks over at you, eyes curious. “Ready to go?” He asks. You nod and he shifts his gaze to Steve. Javi smiles at him, reaching his hand out to shake. Steve goes to return the action but Javi brings him in for a one arm hug instead. After a fast slap on the back he pulls away to look at Steve. “Will’ see ya again,” he reassures him. Steve looks down in awkwardness. After years of being Javier’s partner, he was wrapping up this chapter. But it didn’t mean they weren’t going to see each other again, this time as friends. “Yeah,” Steve sighs, fidgeting with the paper in his hands. “I’m sure you’ll need us to babysit in a couple years anyways.” He laughs. _____ The doctors appointment goes over well. Everything was just as normal as it could be. Even though this baby was testing your limits with constant cravings and the need to pee, it was healthy. And like Steve said, that’s all that matters. You both drive to the airport in silence. Javier has one hand gripping the wheel as the other holds up the sonogram. He stared at it intently with his amber coloured sunglasses on. A small smile pulling at his lips. “This is crazy,” he mumbles. Your heart warms as you watch him, wanting to remember this moment for the rest of your life. You smile as you sit to face him in the passenger seat. “Something to bring with you to Mexico.” The tone of your voice genuine but sad, making Javi’s head turn fast to look at you. He can see the genuine sorrow seeping out of your eyes at the thought of him leaving. He’s mad at himself for it.   “I’m gonna have it on me at all times.” He affirms, setting the photo down in the cup holder and grabbing your leg. He gives you a reassuring squeeze to your thigh. “It’ll be my good luck charm.” 

______ You both arrive in Texas after almost a 6 hour direct flight from Bogotá Your back is killing you. 

Javier’s father Don Chucho had offered to pick you both up at the airport but with you being almost 6 months pregnant, Javier decided to rent a car. He didn’t want his father meeting you for the first time and also finding out about the baby - in an airport. The drive to the ranch was long and excruciating on your back. Javier had stopped multiple times along the way for you to use the gas station restroom, to get snacks, and for you to stretch. Soon, the city view out the window turned into a long stretch of dirt road. Long lengths of field on either side of the vehicle. Some with cows, others with horses. You smile at the view. The idea of little Javier growing up out here and being free from all the violence that was drug related crime; created a contentment that you wished for your own baby. The type of childhood you wished you could have had. As much as you felt bad about Javi retiring, you were selfishly happy that he wouldn’t be doing that kind of work anymore. He could be the type of father to your baby, that you never had.  A mentally present one. You sigh at the thought. The long road takes a wide curve leading into a tree line and Javier gives your leg a squeeze. “We’re here.” The truck comes to a soft stop. You sit up in your seat as you stare at the large country home with scuffed white siding and a wrap around porch. The left side of the home is an octagon shape and with the truck window open you can hear the weather vane at the tip of its roof. The metal arrows clinking around in the light blow of the wind. It’s beautiful. You look around at the yard filled with farming machinery. A red barn behind the home and the distant neighs of horses carried by the breeze. A big smile creeping onto your face. You already love it here. Javi gets out of the truck you rented and walks over to your side. Your head sticks out the window, taking everything in. You’re mesmerized by how calm the air feels. “Javier!” you hear Don Chucho exclaim. You smile as you watch him waddle out the front door of the large house, sporting his white cowboy hat and thick moustache. His arms are open in a welcoming gesture, before he uses the old railing to help himself down from the porch onto the thick grass. You smile as you look him up and down. His grey hair neatly combed back in his hat. The colour matching his moustache that is significantly thicker than Javiers. He’s wearing similar sunglasses to his son and a blue long sleeve button up, rolled half way up his forearms. Blue jeans pulled over his dark brown cowboy boots. It’s like you’re staring at someone famous, considering everything you’ve heard about him. He walks to your side of the vehicle where Javi stands next to your door, nervous. You place your hand on his shoulder and he turns his head to face you, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. Your touch instantly calms him. Giving him a reassuring nod before looking to Chucho. “No hug for your old man?” he grumbles to Javier. Smiling big with his arms spread wide. The wrinkles around his mouth when he looks over at you, suggest he’s lived a happy life. Aside from losing his wife.  

“Hey Pap,” Javi walks slowly over to his dad and they engulf one another in a rough embrace. Chucho walks over to you and sticks his hand out to greet you. Your head lifts from resting on the edge of the open window and you reach your hand out to him in return. You give him a stern and confident handshake. “And you’re,” You cut him off to introduce yourself. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you,” you smile, wide. Chucho looks to Javier as he grips your hand in both of his, giving you a pat. It’s like he’s giving Javier the eye - ‘I like this one.’ It instantly makes Javier smirk while looking down at his feet. “You have a beautiful place here,” you tell him, your eyes taking another scan of the property. Chucho lets go of your hand and places his hands on his hips, as he too looks around. You watch as so many of Javiers mannerisms come from his father. It makes you almost laugh. “Well, thank you darlin’.” He stares between you and Javi as silence fills the air. “Why don’t we get you outta’ that truck and inside, huh?” He asks reaching for the handle. Javier almost panics at the need to be cautious. He grabs the truck door from Chucho to slow it’s opening. Javier’s readiness to help you takes Chucho by surprise and he steps back. The door is open, blocking your body from Chucho as your sneakers hit the grass. The pain in your back makes you wince. “You okay?” Javi asks quietly, overly concerned with wide eyes. “Yeah,” you exhale. “I have to just grab my bag.”  You turn back into the truck and Javier watches you intently. “Wow, you two are like a moth and a flame” Chucho grumbles out to Javier. He had never seen Javier so careful and attentive around a woman since Lorraine, or even his mother. 

Javi looks sideways at his father, almost scolding him. Chucho lets out a raspy laugh at the annoyance in Javi’s expression. You turn back to face Javi, adjusting your shirt over your growing belly. He looks down at you and you give him a confident nod, ready for what’s about to come. Javier leads you by your hand, out from behind the truck door and slams it shut. You slowly move your eyes to Chucho’s face as his fall to your body and stop at your stomach. The silence is loud as Javi moves beside you and grabs your hand tight. “Pap, this is uh,” he stutters, scratching the back of his neck.  “The reason we came here.” Chucho stays blinking at your baby bump for what seems like hours. Unable to say anything. Javi looks at you worried, he’s wondering if he’s broken his father. Chucho’s hesitant eyes look through his brows at Javier, then to you. When finally, he moves. He hobbles up to you, eyes back glued to your stomach. “May I?” his dark eyes look into yours, moustache twitching. You nod with a quiet, “Of course.” His old and worn hands come to your stomach as he stares down at it.

You can feel his warmth through your shirt as one hand moves from the side of your tummy to the top of it. A smile finally pulls at his lips as a little foot kicks his palm. Your eyes widen and you both can’t help but chuckle. The laughter pulls a relieved sigh out of Javier. It’s as if he’s been holding his breath waiting for his fathers reaction. 

“Oh ya,” Chucho’s low voice vibrates through you. “That’s a baby Peña in there,” he looks back up at you through his grey brows. “A kicker just like it’s daddy.” ___

After a long tour of the house and farm area you finally sit at the edge of the bed, pulling your sore feet into your hands, giving them a quick massage. Javier closes the guest bedroom door and walks straight over to you. He gets on his knees in front of you, making you drop your leg back down. His face red as though he might combust. He looks at you intensely, creating worry in your reaction. “Javi, is everything,” He cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands gently, and kissing your lips soft. It lasts for a while. Tangling tongues and taking turns nipping at each others lips. He finally pulls away as you exhale onto him. The kiss was enough to flood your core with arousal . “What was that for?” You ask, breathless.

His nose drags across yours softly, as he smiles. “I’m just really, happy.” He’s almost giggling. You smile as your stomach flutters like it always has. You love happy and giggly Javier.

It also made him extremely horny. 

“How’s your back?” he asks, forehead still pressed to yours as his arms fall to your sides. His fingers tracing shapes into your hips, enough to tickle you. Your eyes flutter shut as you breath out a response. “It’s alright. It’s more my feet now,” you moan at the feeling of his breath on your lips, and his fingers playing with the bare skin of your hips “Mmm,” he hums, his tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Does my girl need a foot massage?” his eyebrow lifts slightly and you both inhale each other in another kiss. “Yes, please.” _______ Chucho insisted on you and Javier relaxing will he makes dinner. You both sit on the front porch swing, listening to cicadas and crickets singing all around the yard. You can hear Chucho banging around in the kitchen through a nearby open window. Even with the glow of the inside lights, it’s especially dark and you’re able to see every single star in the sky. If you could see them in Columbia, you had never taken the time to really look. Being here, aching feet being rubbed by Javi’s strong hands, was the best you had felt in a while. Even the smell of the air was different. “I love it here,” you hum with a dazed smile. Javi lets out a little laugh through his nose, looking at you before looking straight ahead at the property. “Yeah, it’s alright.” There is silence between you as you watch his extremely handsome side profile. His brows furrowing and his lips slightly parted like usual. “And your dad,” you start. Javier’s expression hardening at your words. “He seems nice.” You stare at your fingers as you pick at your thumbnail, nervously. “At least he handled the pregnancy better than my mom probably will.” You sigh, your words drifting off.  Javi looks over at you, lifting your legs to move closer. Your knees pulled up into his chest, as you lay against the arm of the slightly rocking swing. A cozy blanket draped over you both. It was the first time you noticed that about Javier. He knew you so well already. The minute you were anxious; he would subconsciously move closer or touch you in some way to reassure. Instantly making you feel less alone and providing an unprecedented amount of support. It was something you had never experienced with any men that came before him. He made you feel…

Secure

No wonder why this time was so different already. 

“My father is alright.” he looks down at where he rubs your legs in his lap. “He likes to do this thing called,” he looks over at you, raising an eyebrow. “Hold my past against me.” 

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “All parents are like that,” you sigh. Your fingers play with the blanket as you look up at the sky. “He probably just has regrets from what happened to your mother,” you start, hesitating. “And he’s projecting them onto you.” You both sit in silence for a couple minutes, Javi is back to zoning out at the land in front of him. “He probably doesn’t want you to have any regrets or mistakes or what ever the fuck he has,” you laugh at your inability to give any mind blowing advice. Javier looks over at you as you look back down at your hands. Your face radiates from the soft glow of the lights inside, your hair slightly blowing in the breeze created by the swing, wearing an agency zip up of his over your cute little baby bump. He’s never seen anything more naturally beautiful than you in this moment. And he realizes, he doesn’t have any regrets. He has lived in regret his whole life and look where it got him. Sick to death of his job, lonely, and unable to form deep connections. Then he met you. Where just sex became more than that. All because he had let you in a little bit more than all the others. This was the best he had felt since leaving Lorraine at that alter, over 10 years ago. All because he met you. Now you were giving him the best gift anyone could ever give him and he would spend his whole life thanking you for that. His full time job after Mexico would be creating the best life for his new little family and part of him couldn’t wait.

His hand reaches out to grab yours, intertwining your fingers with his. Your eyes meet.  “I don’t think I have any regrets, anymore,” he coos softly, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. You both stare, both awaiting your response. “Me either,” you reply bashfully. ___ Dinner had been so satiating, creating a tiredness in you like no other. You both said goodnight to Chucho after he had taken the liberty to plan an entire excursion for you and Javier, starting early tomorrow morning. He had mentioned a stream farther down the property that Javier used to hangout at when he was a little boy. You expressed interest in checking it out as Javi stayed unimpressed by his fathers antics.  Chucho had then discussed the horses with you. If you knew how to ride them, if you felt comfortable on horse back at 6 months pregnant. “I used to ride all the time. My mom would take me back in Miami.” You would tell the old man. He turned to Javier, giving him an approving grin. “And as long as it’s a slow walk, my bladder should be okay with it.” So it was settled. Chucho would ready the horses in the morning and give you and Javier some food to take with. Spending the day on a soft blanket near the rushing stream, with nothing to do. No deadlines, no cartels, and no gunshots, and no mexico pulling him away from you. The thought alone, was enough to spark desire you never knew existed. You both needed that. Javier had actually agreed. He too, wanted to be close to you with zero interruptions. You both lay in bed in your usual position. His body pressed up against your back. No clothing on either of you, since the house was 100 degrees all year round, and you both ran hot in your sleep. As the back of your body molded into Javier, he kissed your bare shoulder in front of him. Goosebumps rose onto your skin, making him do it again. This time nibbling up to your neck. You don’t oblige, practically still wet from that kiss earlier. Javier’s warm hands wrap around to your stomach, and you lay yours on top of his. His hips rocking into your back side, his soft cock growing hard at the need to have you covering him. His hands leave your stomach and reach up to your breast, twisting and pinching softly at your nipple. Arousal leaks out of you at only the sensation his soft hands create.

He loves that he doesn’t have to do much, for you to turn into a puddle for him lately. His hand leaves your chest for a minute and you can feel his cock slipping through your legs and between your folds. Continuing to rock himself against you. The bed slightly squeaks, making him stop his movements in paranoia before continuing slowly. He teases you, his cock dragging up and down against your dripping heat, wetting him.  You turn your head back as far as it will go and he meets you half way. Giving you an extremely slow kiss. Your lips on each other is the only sound filling the room. The intimacy of the darkness and the silence, is something you hadn’t yet experienced with Javier. You had always been able to see each other. This time the room was pitch black and neither of you were saying anything.  “You have to stay quiet, querida.” His breath so hot in your ear, making your hips rock back again, gliding the tip of his cock to tickle your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Can you do that?” He asks, before kissing that spot below your ear. “Mhmm,” you breath out while nodding, impatient. You try to stop your hips from rocking faster into him. As they come back to meet his again, his cock slides into you with no contest. As you absorb his full length, you can’t help almost moaning. The way he’s hitting your g-spot in this position has your clit throbbing to be stimulated. You should’ve known by now with Javier, you don’t have to utter the words. His hand comes around to your front and snakes under your belly. His big hand spreading you open, as he rubs circles just where you need with his two fingers. You both had always been so good at reading each others minds, especially when it came to sex. 

You really were two puzzle pieces. The thought of sex like this for potentially the rest of your life, had you whine out in pleasure. Javier lets out a satisfied whisper. “That’s it,” he coos. “Just like that.” His lips parting more. He practically whimpers against your back as your hips rock into his, pulling his member in and out of you so easily. He slows his pace as his lips graze against your shoulder, his hand leaving your clit to interlace his fingers with yours. “huh- oh my-god,” he pants quietly into the back of your neck, his hips rocking to meet yours over and over.  You both elicit barely any sounds. Only the faint wetness of you dripping all over him, both chasing your finish. Javiers hand comes to your face, bending it back to him. He kisses you again, slow and sloppy. Moaning into each other’s mouthes. He doesn’t speed up but his hips snap harder into you. The tip of his cock molding that soft spot inside you, just for him. “Look at you,” he breaths against your mouth. “Doing such a good job for me,” he grumbles out, his voice quiet enough not to form any suspicion. The praise is enough to send you into your impending orgasm. His looming shortly behind yours. “Anything for you, Javi” you breath before squeezing your eyes shut and your mouth falling open. Javier’s hand instinctively comes up to your mouth, covering it with his fingers. He’s unsure if you’re able to keep your pleasure inaudible and he wants to be extra careful. You obey his ask though. No sounds leaving your lips, as your teeth lightly graze his fingers. This alone set’s him off, his hips digging deeper into you on each thrust, becoming messy. Javi’s hand falls from your mouth to your chest, squeezing your breast hard. The sound of his soft and needy whimpers fill the room. You try to steady your breathing without loud pants and your hand comes up to reach the back of his head. Your fingers grip into his messy brown bedhead, pulling him closer into the side of your face. His awaiting release finally erupts inside you. The familiar warmth of his come filling you up, his length twitching as you grip it hard.  You both stay in this position, trying to quietly catch your breath. His lips kiss your cheek softly, before nestling into your ear. “If you weren’t already pregnant,” he pants. “that would have definitely put a baby in you.” His words give you chills, everywhere. You had never expected Javi to be so turned on by the idea of breeding you. You couldn’t begin to imagine what your future held after this first pregnancy would be over. 

If this relationship didn’t change in any way, and you both kept up like this; having more kids with Javier didn’t totally freak you out. What did, was thinking about the way you saw commitment 12 months ago, compared to now. This was another thought simply provoked by this moment. How could you be so afraid but so ready and willing when it came to a life with Javier. I guess your mother was right when she told you ‘it just takes the right person.’ 

_______

Your eyes flutter open to bright sunlight casting through the sheer curtains of the guest room. You lay on your side, blinking the sleep from your eyes and slowly sitting up. Aside from you, the big bed is empty and silence fills your ears. You smile at the peacefulness. It’s nothing compared to the odd sounds of gunshots and busy traffic in Columbia. It was also the first time that you had awoken by yourself since Javi had been sleeping with you. It seemed he felt safe enough here on the ranch, to leave you sleeping alone. You get up and shakily slide on a pair of shorts and baggy t-shirt. Throwing your messy bed head in a scrunchie on top of your head. After brushing your teeth and performing the rest of your morning routine, you climb down the stairs to an empty living space. You walk to the kitchen where there is a bowl of fresh fruit on the counter. You pick at it when your attention is grasped by the sounds of horses in the distance. Peering out the open kitchen window you can see movement near the barn. Without putting on shoes, you leave through the back door and down the stairs of the porch. Your feet hit the thick soft grass and you smile to yourself. The sensation below your toes making you sigh in inexplainable comfort.

You walk carefully to the side of the barn where you can hear Javi and his father through the crack in the door. You’re about to open it, but their conversation makes you stop and listen. 

“You can’t run from this one, son” Chucho tells Javier as he digs into a feed pale. “I’m not running.” Javi cuts him off bluntly. Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, heart beating loud in your ears. Chucho turns to Javier, staring at him for a few seconds. “What?” Javi asks, frustrated already. “That’s what you said last time.” ‘last time’? Your chest tightens. “Yeah, well last time was different,” Javier groans. “Lorraine wasn’t much different,” Chucho huffs as he wanders the barn. “She wasn’t pregnant, but she was still a good person and you ran.” “I ran because it wasn’t right!” Javi snaps at him, cutting his father off. There is a heavy silence and your eyes dart back and forth between them. They both still haven’t realized that you’re standing behind the crack of the door. “You hold these things against me Pap,” Javi’s voice softens. “Like I can’t make mistakes.” He huffs in defeat. “That was over ten years ago.” 

Chucho’s mouth twitches as his stern eyes don’t leave his sons. He walks over to Javier slowly, dropping his hand to Javi’s shoulder. “All I’m tryna’ say is that,” he licks his lips. “I know you son, you’ll get lost chasing murderers in Mexico. You’ll get your priorities messed up again and,” Your heart beat in your ears has become so deafening that you have to take deep breaths to continue listening. “And what, hmm?” Javi taunts him. “You think I’ll walk away from my family?” family? 

Chucho’s hand slowly falls from his shoulder. “I just don’t want you to have any regrets,” he sighs. “Like you have regrets about Ma?” Javi deflects. Chucho’s nostrils flare. “I did all that I could for your mother.” He growls at Javier. “Just like I’m going to do whatever I can for her.” Javi barks back at him. Don Chucho doesn’t reply. His hand reaches up to Javier’s face and pats him gently. “Okay.” He forfeits. Chucho exits the barn out the other door and you watch Javier stand at the stall of a dark brown horse. He grumbles under his breath, something in Spanish. His arms stretch against the stall in front of the horse and it rubs its nose against his shoulder. He pats its face. “I know, I know.” he murmurs to him. The sliding of the door where you’re standing, takes him off guard. He turns to look at you, face flushing a deep red. “Hey, I didn’t know you were standing there.” He tries to smile off the awkwardness of you possibly overhearing everything. “Who’s Lorraine?” you ask, flatly. Your heart still beating. Javi pauses, looks around the barn before walking over to you. “She’s a,” he hesitates again, clearing his throat. “A friend of mine I was supposed to marry over ten years ago.” Your breath hitches. Not in jealously, but rather in sadness for them both. “And what happened?” you ask him, eyes wide in curiosity. “I left to join the Columbian DEA, but I,” he hesitates again, unable to look at you. “I left her at the alter.” 

His words burn in the back of your throat. 

“And my father, well,” his dark brown eyes look up at you through his brows. “He thinks when I leave to Mexico, I will be making the same mistake.” “And will you?” You cut him off, tears welling into your eyes. Not for the purpose that you believe he will but for the purpose that he’s done it before, and the idea of him doing it to you coils your stomach in anger. “Are you kidding me?” he pleads, walking over to you. He stands directly in front of you, taking your hands in his. “Everything I’ve decided has been with you in mind. Everything I’m doing is for you, for us.” Your eyes squint shut in pain and you pull your hands from his to wipe your eyes before the tears roll. “Javi, I don’t.” you start, sucking in a shaky breath. “I want you to want this.” 

“And who said I don’t?” he looks at you confused. “I know but,” you whine, looking around the barn before back at him. “I don’t want you to make all these decisions for me, for us, because you feel obligated.” Your hand falls to the top of your belly. Here it comes. The ‘doubt’ word vomit.

“I don’t want you to forfeit any part of your life for this.” His hands come to your arms, trying to cut you off without words. “I just don’t want you to regret choosing-,” “Stop,” he cuts you off. You look at him with desperate eyes. Hoping he can see the sincerity behind all your guilt. That you didn’t want him to regret choosing this life with you. “I told you,” he starts, softly. “I don’t have any regrets.” You both huff out a smile and there is another wave of silence as he strokes your arms. 

“You have to stop that, ya’know.” His thumb coming to your cheek to wipe a tear that managed to escape. “Stop what?” you laugh pathetically as you look down at where he’s now holding your hands. 

There is a quick pause before he continues. “Stop thinking you’re not worthy of this kind of love.” 

love?

Your heart beat begins to quicken again and your exhales become so deep it feels like a punch in the chest. You both don’t know what to say next, as you search his expression for an ounce of denial. But there is nothing. No retraction or reversal visible on his face. He really meant it. “So this is,” you start. “We don’t have to say it yet,” he cuts you off. Not for the reason he doesn’t believe it, but for the reason that he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He knows you’re not there yet. 

A grin tugs at your cheeks and you nod in agreement. “Now, I think we should get to our picnic date, huh?” he smiles, taking your hand and leading you through the barn. 

____________________

The two weeks at the ranch flew by effortlessly and before you know it, you’re getting on another flight. This time to Miami. Your anxiety rising in your gut like a cauldron boiling over. Eyes darting all over the busy airport. Javi stands with you in the boarding line for the plane, as you chew your lip and twiddle your thumbs. He looks down at you, grabbing your hand to make you stop. “It’s going to be okay,” he mumbles to you, giving you a reassuring wink. You look at him before looking around again. “You don’t know my mother.”

The rental car pulls up a rocky driveway surrounded by sand and thick green hedge. Two big stone pillars highlighting the entrance to the large, modern, stone home. You both exit the vehicle and your eyes close in bliss at the salty smell of the air. The sounds of the roaring waves behind the house bring you comfort amongst all the distress you’ve been feeling, your entire drive here. “Wow,” Javier’s words cut off your daydream. “This is,” You look over at him, as he eyes the big house. Smiling and lifting an eyebrow, you respond. “Isn’t it?” 

You get the urge to skip into the home that you grew up in. You haven’t been back in a while and you forgot how much you missed it’s nostalgia.

Just then, you remember the biggest thing stopping you from running in to greet your over bearing mother. The visible baby bump. Your eyes glaze over in immediate regret, regarding being back home. “Javi, I don’t think I can.” Your voice shakes as he rounds the car to come in front of you. His eyes widen with concern. “Listen,” he licks his lips as his hands hold yours. “If it gets bad, we can leave. I can book us a hotel,” he rambles. “We don’t have to stay here if you’re uncomfortable.” There is it again, the never ending, unprecedented amount of support. 

It instantly calms you, giving you the courage to get the initial reaction over with. Somehow, you end up at the front door, knocking lightly to hear a response in return. “It’s open!” 

You take a deep breath before twisting the handle open. Seeing your mother with her back turned to the modern beige coloured kitchen, cutting a fresh pineapple on the large island in front of her.

Immediately you think how you should have called. You should have told her when you found out. You should have told her when you phoned her to tell her you would be bringing your handsome, Spanish, DEA agent, boyfriend of 10 months to see her. She’s going to be pissed.

Javi can sense your tension and he steps in front of you, a large smile plastered across his face, putting on a show for her. “Hola, Preciosa!” he beams at her. A large smile spreads across her face as she rinses her hands and heads straight for him. “You must be Javier Peña!” she gloats. Her arms draw out into a hug gesture and Javi doesn’t waste any time. He throws his arms around her and rocks her side to side. He’s doing a good job taking the attention off you. Bless his fucking soul.

“What did you call me?” she smiles at him. The energy between them surprises you. So natural and like they’ve known each other for years.

“Hello gorgeous.” he translates for her. Her cheeks heat as she steps away from him. “Well if you’re trying to make a great first impression, it’s working.” She playfully smacks his shoulder before her expression becomes more serious. “It’s very nice to meet you, Javier.” “Same to you,” he cups her hand in his. Similar to how his father did yours. 

Javi gently steps back to stand beside you instead of in front of you. His arm wrapping around your shoulder as your mother takes a moment to look at you, finally realizing. Her face falls from ecstatic to unimpressed. Her nostrils flare as her eyes quickly shift from your stomach back to your face.

“I see you’ve been busy.” Her attitude harsh and her arms cross over her chest.

There it is. Turning from soft and kind to cold, dissociative, and manic. 

“It’s nice to see you too, mom.” you mumble out, embarrassed. She’s always looked at you like you’re on display. Making you extremely uncomfortable. Her eyes slightly roll as she turns her back to you both and walks back to the kitchen.

Without so much as a hug. 

Javi awkwardly stands beside you, his smile fading when he realizes that you were right about your mother all along.

He clears his throat with a cough before he goes to speak. You grab his arm before he can say anything. Your mothers eyes look at you both through furrowed brows, as she continues to cut the pineapple. “You know where the guest room is.” she snaps, the knife ending the interaction with a hard slam to the cutting board. You scoff and grab your luggage, dragging Javi by the arm down the hall. As soon as the door closes your eyes well up into tears. “See,” you sob. “I told you,” you frantically pace as Javi sits on the edge of the bed. As always he’s trying to figure out a way to make it all better. “We shouldn’t have come.” You sniff, trying to pocket the tears. He stands to his feet, walking over to you slowly. His hand on your shoulder makes you grasp at him in a tight hug as you let a few cries out. “How am I going to do this Javi?” you ask, looking up at him with pain in those big, beautiful eyes. It makes his heart ache. “How am I going to do these next two months if my mother won’t support me. I will be all,” you words drift as your eyes fall shut. “Alone.” He doesn’t say anything. Only brings you to the bed and holds you while you cry.

Before you know it, he’s lulled you to sleep. ____ Javier opens the door slowly, careful not to disturb you as you snore peacefully.

Hours have passed and the sun was now setting against the ocean. The deep orange colour lights up the entire home as all the windows hang open. The sound of seagulls and waves are all he can hear, as he searches for your mother. He reaches the kitchen where the open sliding door reveals her on the deck, hunched over as she holds a cup of hot tea and a cigarette.

He swipes a nervous hand through his hair as he slides the screen door open, getting her full attention. She looks over at him blankly, before turning back to the view of the wide spread ocean in front of her. Javi walks over slowly, taking a seat in the padded outdoor chair beside the small couch she is seated on. They sit in silence for a short time before your mother places the mug down on the coffee table. They both stare off in different directions. “Do you mind?” Javi asks, pointing to the pack of cigarettes on the table. Your mother pushes them towards him with the lighter. Javi lights a drag and inhales the smoke like he’s been deprived his whole life.  “She’s not going to be able to do this,” you mother cuts him off. Her eyes drift over to Javi’s as she squints at him. They sit making eye contact for a while before he clears his throat and leans forward, looking away for a moment. “What makes you think that?” he asks her, his tone gruff. 

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh and takes a puff of the cigarette laying limp between her fingers. “Because she likes to run from everything.” her voice is dry, emotionless, and it makes Javier’s blood boil. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep inhale. His body slumps back into the chair and his arms cross over his chest. Your mother watches his body stiffen as she positions herself sideways to face him. “You don’t know her like I do,” she tells him. Smirking as her lips meet her mug. “And what is it that you know?” he asks again, in a tone similar to an interrogation. “She was with her ex for four years, it was a good relationship and she.” “Was it good though?” he cuts her off, almost snapping. She stops and her head tilts to glare at him in disbelief, as he shifts in his seat again. “With all due respect, ma’am.” He starts, changing to a softer tone. “Your daughter is the most calculated, thoughtful, compassionate, and selfless woman I have ever had the honour of getting to know.” Your mother’s face falls soft. “And as far as Ive gathered, there was a lot that was wrong in her last relationship. From what I know,” his eyes burn into hers. “She was expected to fill some pretty big shoes.” He leaves room for your mother to interject, but she doesn’t. “She considered everyone’s feelings, except her own and that’s why she ran.”

He takes another puff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke as he continues. His hand reaches out to her leg, her eyes watching carefully. “Excuse me for seeming out of line but, I think it’s time that we consider her feelings,” he treads carefully. “That means believing in her, and supporting her. Even if you think it’s not right.” “And do you think it’s not right?” She asks him, her eyes narrowing into his. He watches her expression and his hand comes back into his own lap. His tongue sweeps across his top lip and his fingers run quickly across his moustache. He looks around as though to check if anyone is around to hear his response. “I think she’s old enough to make her own decisions and it would help to have support from those that are supposed to love her.” His response is cold towards her. He’s trying to draw her attention to acknowledging his words, rather than looking for validity in her skepticism. She sits in silence, her eyes adverting back to the ocean, shifting in her seat. He watches her through furrowed brows as her expression softens. His eyes fall to his lap in front of him. “And to answer your question, I will always think she’s doing the right thing.” He taps his cigarette before placing it back to his lips. “I have never tried to change her. I want her for exactly who she is.” He stands to his feet and removes his socks. Throwing them onto the deck before climbing down the stairs and onto the sand, ending the conversation. Your mother watches him as he wanders out to where the waves crash against the sand. His arms fold against his chest, as he walks the shore line. “Mom?” you mumble shortly after, rubbing your swollen eyes as you stand in the back door way. Your mothers hard expression dissolves, as though everything Javi had just said to her, finally sinks in when she sees you standing there. Her baby girl, pregnant and all. “What’s up my darling?” She coos. You step out onto the cold wood of the deck and look around. “Where’s Javi?” you ask her. Sleep still lingering in your voice. You watch as she points straight ahead to a figure in the distance, he’s pacing against the shore, his pants rolled up and feet submerged in the wet mixture of sand and ocean. She looks back at you as she watches you stare at him. A smile curving onto your lips and a sparkle in your eyes that she hasn’t seen before. It creates a small smile from her as she waits for you to break the silence. Instead you pull off your socks and almost run to meet him. Your mother watches as you reach out to touch Javier’s arm and he turns to look at you, his expression melting into a consoling grin when he realizes it’s you. His arm immediately pulls you into him and he places kisses to your face. Drowning you in little pecks as you try to pull away, giggling. Your mothers smile spreads larger as she watches you both, now running around on the beach. Javi sticks out his arms and stands as though he’s going to race towards you. You laugh, standing feet away from him with your hands out in front of you. Through the wind she hears you whine out “Javi, Don’t!”

Your mother stands, moving to lean against the railing of the deck as she watches.

Javi darts towards you and you let out a playful shriek. His arms encompass you in a big hug from behind and he squeezes you tight. His head turning to kiss your cheeks some more. You smile with all your teeth and your mother watches you intently, almost laughing with you. Maybe Javier had a point. Maybe this was the right thing. ____________ Days go by with your mother and Javi. There was a shift in her energy since the initial introduction. You didn’t know what brought it on but you were happy to no longer be the centre of all her malice.

Her and Javi had created a bond as well. Spending time in the kitchen as she showed him how to make 'signature dishes’ that she claimed were your favourite. You all spent late nights in the living room, combing through boxes of your baby stuff. Your mother watching as you and Javier lit up, finding little baby shoes and overalls. “Those your father got for you,” she would say, pointing to a small pair of grey New Balance sneakers, so small that they fit in Javier’s palm. 

Hearing her talk about your father was like a stab in the stomach. Despite all the bad things, you still thought about him almost every day. He would have made a great grandpa.  “He had good taste,” Javi pulls you from your thoughts. You sit between Javi’s legs on the floor, as he sits on the couch. He leans, hunched over your shoulder as you go through the big brown box in your lap. Your hands gently pull out a photo album and your breath hitches. Your fingers shake as you open the cover to reveal a photo of you as a newborn. Your mother now in the kitchen, pouring herself and Javi a drink. She wanders back into the living room and sits on the chair across from you both, another box in front of her. “Your baby book,” she tips her glass to point at the album you’re flipping though. You scan the pages to reveal a lock of hair in a plastic bag, a tiny hospital bracelet with the words almost smudged off from being so old, and an array of photographs. The next page you turn to makes you hold in your breath. It was a photo of your dad. Your tiny baby body laying stomach down along his forearm, as he held your tiny face in his large hand. Your eyes fill with tears as you stare at his smiling face. 

The silence is thick and Javi places his warm hand on your shoulder. “That was his favourite thing to do with you,” your mother’s voice softly breaks the silence. “You would be crying and he would flip you to lay on him like that, and boom,” she huffed out a laugh. “Silence.” 

You sniff out a giggle, wiping the tears from the side of your face. 

“Meanwhile,” she starts again, sipping from her drink and placing it on the table beside her chair. “I had to damn near shake you.” Both you and Javi let out a breathy laugh. You hand the open book to Javi, as you continue to explore the box below you. He takes the book gently, placing the open page in his lap. His eyes look at your father, down to little you, then down to you between his legs. A grin pulls at his lips as he imagines what fatherhood will be like for him. Thinking about recreating this picture with your baby.

later the next day, you wake up late, to the sound of a cordless drill. As you stumble out of the bedroom and down the hall, you see Javier drilling a white shelf to the wall in the dining room. “Good Morning, sleepy head.” He grins. You cover your face with your hands, opening your fingers to peak an eye at him. “What the fuck are you doing?” you grumble. “Language young lady,” your mom jokes, rounding the corner with two glasses of lemonade. “You don’t want your baby adopting that potty mouth,” she places the drinks on the table and Javi puts the drill down to take a long chug of the fresh liquid. “Javier here, has volunteered to hang these shelves I’ve had for years and never hung.” She sings, pulling out a dining chair to sit down. Her legs overlapping on another, as she watches him. You look between them, eyebrows furrowing. “Get dressed,” she orders you. You stay still, staring at her blankly. “Go on! I have a list of things I need you to pick up from the market,” she shoos you back to the bedroom. Your hands stroke over your six months pregnant stomach dramatically as Javi stands with his hands on his hips, chuckling as he watches you. “Oh, Im so sorry,” you tease. “Im so pregnant, I think I might burst, I don’t think I can go to the market today.” You whine out, trying not to laugh at yourself. Your mother rolls her eyes at your obvious jokes and shoos you away with one last gesture of her hand. _____ ‘Tomatoes - check Lettuce - check Cucumber - check

Lemons - check Olive Oil’ She’s making a salad with vinaigrette dressing, you think to yourself as you search the shelves. Your stomach churns in hunger at the idea of a fresh salad. ‘Settle down, just gotta find the oil and we’ll be eating soon.’

Your hand caresses your growing bump. You push the cart as your body is turned to face the isle. So many fucking oils to chose from.

Just as you spot the olive oil you’ve seen in your mother cupboard before, a familiar face passes you. Your eyes meet his and you smile when you realize.

Martinez

He smiles and says ‘hey’ followed by your name. The woman with him stops as he does and her expression is confused. You step away from your cart to go give him a friendly hug when his eyes fall to your stomach. Despite being shocked, he returns the small hug and introduces you to his ‘girlfriend’ Emily. “Nice to meet you,” you return to her with a kind smile. Immediately he stares back your stomach and you both speak simultaneously. “Peña’s.” His coming out more as a question, while yours is a statement. You both awkwardly smile and nod before you speak again. “So what are you doing in Miami?” you ask him, placing your hands on your hips. His eyes widen and he bashfully smiles. “After that last incident I uh,” he hesitates, licking his lips. Emily grabs onto his bicep, urging him to continue. “I got a promotion to be the lead Admin for Miami’s recruitment agency.” Your stomach burns with acid as you remember the last time you spoke to Martinez. He had outed your relationship with Javi to the Columbian Admin. He almost had you sent home. He’s partially to blame for Javiers suspension. Now, he was running Miami’s recruitment agency for DEA agents, while Javi - who had done the most work to catch Escobar - was stuck with an assignment to Mexico?

  Your face heats up as your expression falls. You want to punch Martinez in the fucking face, but you bite your tongue. There is weighted silence before he quickly changes the subject, sensing your anger. “What about you?” He asks. Your teeth run rapidly against your tongue before you sprout a fake smile. “Yeah, uh,” your head is spinning. Making it hard for you to even concentrate on his question. “I’m transferring to the Miami agency as an assistant.” He looks down at your stomach again, almost demanding an explanation. “Javier is uh, heading to Mexico on an assignment.” “While you’re pregnant?” He cuts you off, brows furrowing together in confusion. 

“Yep,” you try to grin but he can see the pain in your expression. “He asked for a transfer to Miami and the Admin had agreed to Mexico, Columbia, or retirement.” You finish. Your eyes don’t move from his as he searches your face and down to your frame. “That’s - ridiculous.”  He almost whispers. His eyes look back to yours with genuine hurt. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen this side of Martinez. “She’s going to force him into retirement because he’s having a baby?” He re-confirms. The reminder sends painful zaps of electricity through your body. It’s something you’ve been putting off for the last four weeks, and talking to Martinez served as nothing but a wake up call to your harsh, impending reality. “That’s basically it, yeah.” you sigh. “I should, probably head back though,” You smile, grabbing the last item on your list and placing it in the cart. “Of course,” he half smiles, pain still in his expression. As nice as it was to see him being genuine to you, you still couldn’t stand the pity. When you get back, seeing Javi smiling and laughing with your mother makes you keep your mouth shut. You can’t bring yourself to tell him how great everything was working out for fucking Martinez. You just wanted to forget even running into him in the first place. ________ And just like that, the two weeks with your mother come to an end. Your boxes that Steve shipped from Columbia arrived within your last week and you watch as Javi packs them into your rental car.

Your mother stands at the front steps facing you. Her hands cup the sides of your cheeks as she stares at your face. For some reason, you feel awkward. She has hardly ever been this way with you. Not since you were a little girl. “Thank you for having us,” you grin.

She pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear as Javi makes his way to the front steps. Your eyes narrow into your mothers as her face molds into a delicate smile. “You’re going to be a great mom,” she almost whispers. Tears welling into her waterline. You haven’t seen her cry since she found out about your dad’s affair. Seeing her like that immediately heats your cheeks and creates your own tears - for the millionth time this month. “Mom, I.” You can’t even finish your sentence before she pulls you into her. Embracing you so tight. This was the first time in years since she had given you a sincere compliment. Her lips kiss your cheek fast and hard and she whispers in your ear. “You call me if you need anything, okay?” You finally pull away and your fingers push the tears away before they fall. You nod to her and turn your attention to Javi who stands below you, watching with a smile on his face. You had no idea that this interaction with your mother had been because of him and he went on never disclosing that to you. Your mother sniffs away her tears and sticks her arms out to him. 

“Javier,” she mumbles, overly emotional. They share a tight hug before he pulls back and kisses her hand in his. “We’ll see you soon, huh?” he asks, giving her a quick wink. She nods as she watches you both drive off the property and towards the city. _________________

Things around the rental grow tense as you’re two days away from Javier’s departure to Mexico. You both tread carefully around one another. Almost unnatural. 

And you hate it. That night you rub lotion on your belly, sitting up in bed as Javier exits the bathroom, shirtless after brushing his teeth. You watch his golden skin in the dim light of your bedside lamp, as he sits along the edge of the bed. Your eyes trace into the curves of his back as he stares at the pack of cigarettes on his side table. He hasn’t been smoking inside or around you, always sneaking outside to do it. Too concerned for how the inhalation could affect you or his baby.  You shift as you watch his fingers tap the surface of the sheets, fantasizing about those hands. It’s been since the ranch. Too long. You set aside the bottle of lotion and crawl over to him, placing little soft kisses along his shoulder to the back of his neck.

fuck, he smells so good. 

“What’s up, cariño?” he asks, his head twisted to look at you, his eyebrow raising. “What do you mean ‘what’s up?’ can’t I just kiss my boyfriend?” you tease him. His eyes close and he huffs out a laugh. You grab his hand and he shifts to sit facing you. You place his hand to your chest where your heart beats softly. Javi looks at you with hooded eyes, before looking down at where you’ve placed his palm. You both sit in silence before he croaks out. “I don’t want to go.” The words are so simple, yet so desperate. It was like this whole time, he thought he could be strong. 

“I know,” you mumble softly. “I don’t want you to go either.” 

His hand moves from your chest to your cheek. His thumb caressing your warm skin before he leans in. He plants a soft and slow kiss to your lips. His eyes opening to look at you. The difference between his suspension leave and these two months in Mexico was the elephant in the room; the fact that he could die out there. Both of you too nervous to even speak about that. “I know that we haven’t known each other that long,” he starts. By the direction he’s going, you know what he’s leaning towards. “But I don’t want to leave without telling you that I,” Your heart starts to pick up it’s pace and your mouth parts. “Javi, don’t.” You cut him off. His face falls before you have a chance to continue. “No, I just mean,” you giggle to yourself. Your hand reaching up to grab his from your cheek. “I don’t want you to say it because you’re leaving.” Your big doe eyes look into his and a montage plays out in his head. Back to the first time he saw you. How you got that pebble stuck in those heels you always wore. How excited you were about that jacuzzi bathtub in your apartment, the first time he fell asleep next to you and how that’s all he ever thought about. If he only knew then, how hard he would have fallen for you in such a short time. “I don’t want you to say it like this.” You repeat.

He nods and you both crawl into the same position you’ve always slept in. But Javi doesn’t sleep. He stays awake, propped up on his elbow and watching you. The way your eyes flutter and your mouth parts slightly, letting out the cutest little noises. ______

Before you know it, the sun is rising through the large window of your small rental property. You groan as you roll over to face Javi’s bare back next to you in bed. Your fingers come up to delicately rub circles into his back, smiling at how goosebumps raise along his smooth, tanned skin. He groans as he rolls over to face you, burrowing his head in your neck. “Just a few more hours,” he huffs. His warm breath making your body tingle. You giggle in response. “It’s already 10AM, we don’t want to waste your second last day in bed, do we?” You hum, your fingers massaging his scalp through his messy hair. He groans again. “Don’t remind me.”

You lay there propped on your elbow as Javi almost falls back asleep. Your hands move from his scalp to his ear, pinching his lobe to wake him.

“I’m up.” He argues, head still burrowed between your neck and the pillow. The satellite phone laying on Javi’s bedside table beeps multiple times. Taking his attention away from you. He turns over annoyed and looks at the small screen, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concern. He sits up fast and you sit beside him, nervous. You’re unable to hear the other person on the line as you grip the blankets. Your eyes dart around his face, listening to him speak. “Good Morning Ma’am,” Javi’s tone immediately taking on more professionalism. The Admin

He waits for her to speak more, his expression hesitant as his fingers fidget with the blankets too. “He what?” He says, his breaths becoming short and his eyes widening. You shift to sit in front of him, your stomach roars with anxiety that could have you in the bathroom for hours. “I don’t understand, why would he want me?” He replies to whatever she has said.

His other hand comes up to run his fingers through his messy hair. His eyes finally landing on yours. “I see,” he mumbles. “How soon do I start?” he asks, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he stares at you. Your face changes, emitting waves of relief.

“That sounds good. Thank you ma’am.” He hangs up fast and slowly places the phone back down. His actions take forever, as he’s still too stunned at whatever it was that was being discussed. “What is it?” you ask, your wide eyes searching for some hint of context to the conversation. “That was the Admin. I,” He licks his lips. “I got offered a position in Miami.” his words catch in the back of his throat. Your breath hitches and you don’t say anything, your whole body lighting on fire. Your hands sweating.  “For when?” you manage, through the heartbeat in your ears.

“Starting tomorrow,” he mumbles. You both sit in silence before smiles come across your faces. You expected to both be jumping for joy, but instead there is a stillness hanging heavy in the air. It feels as though the world around you has slowed to a stop as you both sit here in bed, in your own little bubble. 

“So you’re staying?” you ask, your voice shaking. He doesn’t answer your question. Instead he explains the call. “She told me to report for my new position as Senior Recruitment Officer for the Miami division.” Your eyes widen and your mouth parts when it clicks. 

“Says I have to report to my supervisor on Monday,” he looks at you and you both speak in unison. “Martinez.” 

As soon as his name leaves you mouthes, you’re standing on the bed and jumping up and down, releasing all kinds of noises in pure happiness. 

Javi’s laughing as he watches you. Finally getting winded you fall to your knees, heavy breathing.

He came through, fucking Martinez came through. “He apparently told her that he owes me one.” He laughs in disbelief.

You smile wide at Javi, tears welling up in both of you. His hands cup your face and he brings you in for an aggressive, celebratory kiss. As soon as he pulls away, you both rest forehead to forehead, out of breath. “I love you,” he murmurs, so softly that it almost doesn’t register. You watch as a single tear falls from his eye and he laughs pathetically. “I fucking love you.”  ____________3 MONTHS LATER_______________

“One more big push for us, come on,” you hear the doctor tell you amongst the pain ripping through your body. Your death grip on Javi’s hand has his eyes widening in concern. “You can do it baby, come on,” he mumbles as his other hand moves the sweat covered hairs from your forehead. “Ugh, I fucking HATE YOU!” You scream, staring him in the eye as you give one more big push. Then you hear it. The cries of your baby taking their first breath outside of you. 

Javiers face softens as he watches the doctor hold up the baby before handing it to the nurse. “A baby girl!” the doctor exclaims. You’re both sure he’s happy to be done with the 16 hours of labour. “Does daddy want to cut the cord?” the nurse asks, a smile evident through her mask. Javi just laughs through his flowing tears. Without saying anything he nods and clips the umbilical cord.

You pant in a daze, your head falling back against the pillow. He watches for a moment as they clean the baby off, before leaning down next to your face. You connect your hands and you turn your head face him, breathless. 

“You fuckin’ did it, baby.” He chuckles, tears staining both your faces. You give an exhausted smile and he kisses your forehead, then the top of your hand he’s been holding. Soon they place the little girl in your arms, wrapped in a hospital blanket. Her little body wiggling as she makes a bunch of unimpressed faces. The minute you see her you start to sob. This made everything worth it. She made everything worth it.

Javi’s eyes well up some more as his strong hand comes to gently touch her small little body. “You were a girl this whole time,” you giggle out through your tears. Her small body shifts some more, her face calming at the sound of your voice. Javi leans over you still, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I knew it,” he whispers, his eyes unable to leave his daughters.

You sniffle as your finger caresses the side of her small little cheek. “What should we call her?” you ask, turning to look at Javi. His eyes don’t leave his baby. “Eva,” he mumbles. “It means ‘life.’” His voice so steady and sure. “Because she gave mine purpose." You turn back to the baby and your hand lays on top of his, along her small, warm body. “How about, Eva Maria.” you say, your eyes moving to his face again, for approval. His brows pull together in slight anguish. He looks intently at you, almost as a thank you, before you both turn back to your baby. Once you’re settled in your hospital room and through with all the checks and guidance given by the nurses, you and Javi lay cuddled up together as Eva sleeps soundly on your chest. “Should we count all her toes again?” he asks, quietly. You giggle as you look up at him. “I think she’s got all ten.” You tell him as her little hands grip Javi’s index finger.

You both sit in silence, staring down at her before he speaks again. “She’s so tiny.” You both smile and your finger runs along her small little button nose. She shifts a bit, her arms coming to the sides of her face before she settles back down. It was like nothing else in the world mattered. Every piece of the puzzle had finally fit together the minute you heard Eva cry. This was definitely heaven. You watch Javi admiring his baby as you think back to the last 3 months. How you couldn’t say it back. How he never rushed you to either. He was always so patient. Loving every part of you, even in the roughest of weather. “I love you too,” you whisper to him. Taking his attention off of Eva to look at you. His smile speaks volumes as he pulls you in for a deep kiss. He pulls back, his breath hot on your lips. “What took you so long?” ____________________________ Taglist:

@djarinxore @notsosecretspy @pedropascalsidechick @soaringcloud @aestheticangel612 @wakaladjarin @pedritos-pumpkin @cosmicmoonchildsplanet03 @bimbofairynextdoor @cyberrpixies @fallenfairydust @partyofone3413 @lavenderkee @littlevenicebitch69 @icant-hangout-imdrumming @got1arrow4that @pedr0swh0r3 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mxtokko @letsgroovetonighttt @bbgem329 @beboldbebravethings @phoenixinthewater @cowboychickenlittle @lucreziazaninelli @kirsteng42 @prettyinpunk85 @leeeesahhh @girlbossnancy @sarah-10 @jaded222 @jlouw646 @sadbloatedegg @ievutebebe @spookyxsam @sagggy @lordvelma @fatimaisabelpascal @cordycepcowboy @fhatbhabie @caatheeriinee07 @harriedandharassed @manuymesut

If I missed anyone, please refill-out my taglist form🩵

Blow by Blow | 0.5 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader au

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Synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, no warnings in particular for this one

…

“Okay, um — no, no,” Natasha winces, shaking her head at you. She grabs your knee and pushes it back down. “No legs — no kicking.”

Jake snorts at the other side of the gym, leaning his head back, then remembering he’s supposed to be spotting Javy, who’s failing out of a bench press. “Oh shit.”

He catches the bar and helps his friend lift it back onto the rack.

“But… I saw on TV—“

“Different sport, kid.” Payback chuckles from the side of the ring, leaning against the ropes. Your lips part slightly, confused. Bradley leans against the doorframe to the office, arms folded over his chest.

You nod slowly as Natasha guides you back into the correct stance. You squint at the heavy bag, readying yourself to go again.

In the month since you’ve moved in, you’ve gotten better at this — but there’s still a lot you don’t know. Still, Natasha has enjoyed seeing you come out of your shell.

Interviewing each of the staff members for the website really helped. Sitting down with each of them for a couple of hours and doing a video interview with them to post on the About section of the website, just a friendly Q&A to make people feel more comfortable coming in and meeting the team.

If it helped you warm up to the idea of training here, then it would help others too.

Bradley is the only one that you haven’t managed to pin down for an interview yet, but he has been busy — he has the most clients around here because he’s been around the longest

Maverick has been loving your ideas so far. He thinks you’re a tech genius for some basic website design and creative ideas.

This entire month has been like a dream that you’re just waiting to wake up from. Even that evening, after hours spent at a local bar — you’re on cloud nine.

Maybe a couple too many drinks, maybe it’s just because you’re so happy, but you’ve been laughing all night.

“You sure you don’t want me to drop you off at home? — It’s on my way.” Payback offers, dangling his keys from his index finger. He’s got a fight coming up and he has cut out all alcohol, but he just has a tiny little sports car that won’t fit everyone. Bradley lives closest.

“Well, yeah — I’m not going to let her walk home on her own,” Bradley answers as he shoots a quick look over to you, grinning with Bob and Mickey as the three of you make plans for the weekend coming. “Besides, it’s not that far out of my way.”

Jake nods his head and pats Bradley’s shoulder, taking Bradley’s spot in that tiny little sports car, “Alright, we’ll see you tomorrow then. Don’t forget you agreed to take care of my eight a.m. session.”

Bradley calls out an agreement and waves the two of them off as he walks over to you.

“You ready?” He asks gently.

“Oh — yeah. Okay, bye guys, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” You stick your arms out and they hug a side of you each, then call out their goodnights to the each of you.

“What did you guys end up deciding to do this weekend?” Bradley asks, reaching past you and curling his fingers around the empty glass in your hand. He takes it and sets it onto the table beside you, then catches hold of your hand and turns you towards the door.

You comply wordlessly, letting him steer you towards the exit. He drops your hand and lets you walk ahead of him.

“Bob knows this hiking trail that has some really great views, and I’ve never been on a real hike, so we’re all going to take Tank with us.”

He hums behind you to show that he’s listening, stepping outside into the night right behind you. “Sounds like fun.”

“Do you want to come?” You offer, turning your head to look at him, your features soft and expectant. Not quite hopeful. Rooster shakes his head.

“Can’t, I’m working this weekend.” Bradley answers. It’s not a lie, he should be working this weekend, but he’s also kind of the boss and hasn’t ever taken notice of the hours that he’s supposed to be working.

You inhale softly, not bothering to argue with him about it. You kind of don’t want him there, anyway. Being all brooding and weird — it would be more fun without him there. That feels mean. It’s not that you don’t like Bradley, it’s just that he’s kind of a dick sometimes.

“You alright? — you’ve gone all quiet, all of a sudden.” Bradley nudges his hand into the back of your bicep as you walk ahead of him. You turn and look over your shoulder once more.

Maybe it’s all the fresh air, but you feel a thousand times more buzzed out here than you had in there.

“Could we walk back along the marina?” You slow down so that you’re at his side. Bradley nods his head, it’ll only add an extra ten minutes to the walk, and sometimes it’s nice down there at night time.

You walk ahead as he pushes his hands into his pockets and watches you. Bradley trained with Jett for a couple of years, he had known from the first session that Jett was an asshole — he just hadn’t realised that it went further than that. Maybe he could have done something earlier.

Your skin cools quickly with the ocean air, goosebumps rising on your skin from the sudden change in temperature.

Finally, you round the path and grow close enough to see the boats, the lights of the city and right out over the bay. You slow down to take notice of it.

“So, do you live near here?” You ask Bradley without looking back to him, gaze turned out over the water. Bradley watches you walk in front of him, his eyes on your legs as you narrowly miss each crack in the pavement. Inches from stumbling, somehow staying on your feet.

“Near Little Italy.” He answers you.

You scrunch your brows and turn quickly towards him, walking backwards without slowing. His features tighten, eyes on your heels — there’s a rock on the path, your shoe lands centimetres from it and you escape breaking your ankle.

“This is out of your way, then.” You realise.

Bradley lifts his gaze, looking at you with the faintest hint of amusement on his face. He nods slowly. “Yeah. But it’s alright.”

“I didn’t say thank you.” You remind him, lips quirking up into a playful smile. His mouth toys at a smirk. He likes it when you forget yourself around him, leave all of that worrying and quietness behind. He can see why the others like you so much when you’re like this.

He pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans and nods again. He smirks back at you, “That’s alright too.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at him. “If I keep training with Nat, pretty soon you’ll be asking me to walk you home.”

He chuckles lowly. “Is that right?”

You nod your head and slow down, letting him catch up to you. He slows, standing in front of you, brows scrunching. He opens his mouth to question your motives, then stops as you turn your head and look out over the water.

Salty sea air, fuzzy bright lights around the harbour, warm skin as you lean forwards into him. It’s a half-intentional move, you want to be closer but you’re also just tipsy and not that steady on your feet.

Bradley’s hands find your waist, unfazed as you tip your chin to look at him. Maybe it’s the liquid courage, but you aren’t in the slightest bit bashful about staring at him.

He lets you, glancing down at the patterned florals on your dress as his fingers lay still over the material. As his eyes meet yours again, they’re especially dark in this light, almost black. Nothing like the golden hue from this evening’s sunset.

He inhales slowly. Pomegranate, vanilla violet, mahogany wood and amber. His fingers smooth softly over your waist, eyes not faltering from yours.

You press closer into him, palm splayed out open on his chest, warm muscle under your fingertips. He stares at you, for a second questioning whether or not you’re about to do what he thinks you’re going to do. He leans into your touch, letting your lips press softly into his.

His breath stops in his airways. You mouth on his, just for a moment. As you go to pull back, his lips chase yours. You hum softly into him, meeting him with another gentle kiss. His bottom lip slotted between yours as his fingers curl into the fabric of your dress.

Pulling back slowly, you look up at him through your lashes and take one step back. Bradley loosens his hold on you, then drops his arms back to his sides.

You turn away from him and continue ahead.

“What was that for?” Bradley’s brows scrunch. You take a deep breath and sigh contentedly as you continue along the path, walking ahead of him once again.

“I just thought it would be a good spot for a first kiss.”

Your cheeks are warm, your hands cold as you trail along the path at the side of the marina. Bradley walks just a pace behind you, his hands pushed deep into the front pockets of his jeans.

Just when he thinks he’s got you figured out, you’re off ahead of him again. He shakes his head softly. A good spot for a first kiss.

He squints at the back of your head — that implies that there will be more kisses to come, is he meant to kiss you again?

Your heels clack across the parking lot, around the side of the building. As you near the base of the metal steps up to your apartment, you turn back around to say goodnight.

His hands press into your hips, curling into the fabric of your dress as he walks you back — your breath hitches in your throat — a soft sound is knocked from you as your back hits into the red brick of Bradshaw’s exterior.

Rooster takes a second, looking you over, searching your features for a sign of doubt before he leans forwards and presses his weight into you. You swallow softly.

He lifts one hand, curling it around your jaw, turning your chin upwards and pressing his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, tender like yours had been. Then, he presses himself harder into you, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you harder into him.

A surprised hum slips out against Bradley’s mouth, but as he urges his tongue past your lips, the sound is followed by a delightfully contented moan.

Your hands slide up his chest, coming to rest against his ribs, almost like you’re going to push him off. You’ve got no intentions of stopping this just yet. Bradley pushes himself forwards, needing to be closer.

Bradley uses his height against you, crowding you against the wall, pressing the entire length of his body into yours and slotting his thick, denim-clad thigh between your legs. Your dress bunches up out of his way, not hindering his access in the slightest.

He squeezes your hip and slides his arm around your back, grinding himself forwards into you. You’re supposed to be shy, always so quiet. Now, you rock yourself onto his thigh, fingers curling into his t-shirt.

Lifting your leg to graze it against his thigh, your heel knocks gently into the bottom step. He presses you harder into the wall, caressing his tongue into yours. The ding of your heel against the metal step is soft enough to have not disturbed you. The loud bark that comes from upstairs following that gentle ding, though — that makes you flinch.

You pull apart, lips parted. Staring up at him, breathing heavily. Your skin burns as you realise who you’re with and what just happened — and where you are.

“Um… I should,” You breathe out, blinking at him, “I should go and let him out.”

Bradley nods his head. It’s a couple of seconds before his brain catches up and he finally lets you go, stepping back and freeing you from being trapped against the wall.

“Okay.” He nods, wetting his lips with his tongue. He thinks back to the conversation he had with Natasha. Whatever happened between you and Jett. It was probably a bad idea to—

“Do you want to come up?”

He stares at you for a second, lips quirking up at the sides. He exhales softly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Sure.”

You aren’t even sure why you asked him, it seems like a bad idea before you’ve even said it — it seems like an even worse idea when he’s headed up the steps behind you.

“You have to stay here and let Tank sniff you or he’s going to freak out.”

Rooster nods his head. It can’t be that bad, he has learnt his lesson from last time. He waits outside whilst you go in and calm Tank down, clipping him into his leash to let him out.

Once Tank has sniffed him, you allow Rooster to wait inside while you get Tank settled. He’s waiting by the counter with his arms folded over his chest by the time you’re done. It doesn’t feel the same.

Maybe the moment has passed. You swallow softly, shifting uncomfortably as Tank settles down into his spot on the couch. Glancing across, you open your mouth to comment on how Tank is finally warming up to him. Tank growls lowly, a warning for Bradley to stay where he is.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and hums, “Maybe I should go.”

“But…” You start out softly.

He steps towards you and Tank growls again. You swallow softly and shoot a look to your dog. Bradley takes one more step towards you, and Tank is silent. The second that Bradley reaches out for you, he growls again.

This has got to be some kind of divine intervention from Natasha. He shouldn’t be here, doing this.

“Alright, Bambi — I’m going to head home. I’ll see you in the morning.” He breathes out, shaking his head softly. You open your mouth to protest. He pats your shoulder platonically and heads for the door. You close it again quickly.

You’ve already embarrassed yourself enough. This really hot guy, who you have to see every day, who just rejected you. You close your eyes for a second and sigh. You let him leave without a word.

…

I'm Not Interested | Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Synopsis: Being a handmaiden meant you lived to serve, to make sure you were keeping the young queen safe. But when a certain golden fellow makes his way in from the South, he cannot help but to become infatuated with your aura. So many stories you have heard about the Prince of Dorne, how uninterested it made you. But would he be able to woo you?

Warnings: Language, Angst, M/F Sexual Situations, The Hatred the Reader Has For Oberyn is A S T R O N O M I C A L, Reader has the last name of Flowers since they are a bastard from The Reach,

Rating: M

Author’s Note: Listen, I love me a good hate fucking AU

Word Count: 7.3K

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