#there would be absolutely no evidence they were in a relationship besides this one line | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

djarinvibe · 4 months

Text

Oblivion (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: crawling out of hibernation to post a javi p fic before disappearing again. Enjoy!

Summary: After a one night stand with Javier, you come to learn you are pregnant. Angst ensues

Words: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public piv sex, oral (f!receiving), a lil angst, swears -- lmk if i missed anything <3

Italics = flashback // masterlist

The heat of Bogotá was starting to make you senile, even while sitting in the DEA office that’s loaded with fans to circulate the stale, hot air. The papers filled with valuable information you’ve been staring at were beginning to strain your eyes, the small lettering from the typewriter swirling across the page.

You've been here for what felt like days, even though it's only been a handful of hours since you arrived this morning. The ashtray on your desk still emitted a thin line of smoke from the cigarette you had just snuffed out, and the coffee you brewed yourself a few hours ago had long gone cold from neglect.

Setting down the files in your grasp, your free hand rose up to your face, resting your head in your palm. Some days it felt like your job was impossible. No matter what you or your partners, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña did, Escobar always seemed to slink away just in the nick of time; even with the help of Carrillo and the search bloc.

It didn’t help that your mind was clouded by something else that happened just the night before. Something you never expected would happen since yours and Steve’s arrival to Colombia.

The two of you were both assigned to Escobar’s case and flew in together with Connie and their- now deceased- cat. However, you aren't from Miami like Steve is. You're actually from the west coast, Oregon to be exact.

“Y’alright, Darlin’?” You heard Steve’s voice across the room, prompting you to lift your head. The blonde, lanky man stood leaning against the doorframe to your office with a steaming coffee and freshly lit cigarette in his grasp.

“Just… one of those days.” You murmured, giving the man a faux smile before sighing softly.

“Are you going to tell Murphy?” Peña spoke after exhaling from a drag. He sat on the couch in his apartment, shirt off with his jeans still unbuttoned, staring down the bare skin of your back you had yet to clothe.

You scoffed, shaking your head while pulling up your pants, “Absolutely not. This was a ‘one and done’ type of situation.”

You slept with Javier on a whim; drunk, exhausted, and desperate to catch a quick release. Though after the two of you finished, it was a sobering experience to realize you had just fucked your coworker.

Since moving here and meeting him, you couldn’t deny that you’ve developed feelings over time; despite his reputation of sleeping around. Working long, late hours with him and Steve, you came to learn he isn’t as horrible as the gossips in the office seem to think he is.

But even with that knowledge, you couldn’t let yourself get hurt. Not by him. Not when you have to face each other at work almost every day.

“It’s only noon.” Steve smirked, raising the mug in his grasp to take a sip of the coffee.

“I had a long night.” You responded, eyes meeting your partners once again. You trusted Steve with your life. Being placed in dangerous, life threatening situations will make you feel that way about the people you experienced them with. But, you couldn't tell him that you and Javier slept together last night.

Especially because Steve has been teasing the two of you about your evident chemistry for months now; both him and Connie whenever the four of you would get dinner or drinks.

But you were firm on the idea that a relationship with him wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, as soon as Escobar was either jailed or dead, you'll most likely go your separate ways, returning to the home states you came from. And you couldn't let a relationship get in the way of your career.

You're still relatively young, having just turned thirty three months ago. You worked your ass off to be in the position you are now, a DEA agent, despite your field being mostly dominated by men. Misogynistic, dick-headed, men.

And you certainly weren't going to let one of those men- Javier, to a lesser degree- get in your way.

---

“I have to confess something,” You drunkenly slurred, looking at the woman seated on the couch next to you. Connie’s eyes widened as a mischievous, eager-for-gossip grin covered her face.

The two of you had planned a girls night on one of your days off. Constantly working and being around testosterone all the time was frustrating, so any time spent with Connie was cherished.

The two of you really became close on the flight from Miami to Colombia. Instead of flying out from Oregon, you first flew across the country and met Steve in Florida. After a few weeks preparing for your new assignment along with your new partner, you, Steve and Connie departed to Colombia.

“What?” She giggled, sipping the margarita in her grasp.

“I slept with Peña, like two weeks ago.” You murmured, watching the woman's face twist into all sorts of emotions, mainly shocked.

“Really?” She finally found the words to speak.

“We got drunk and it just kind of happened,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your own drink.

“Can I ask… How was it?” She giggled as she asked the question, a goofy grin crossing her face, cheeks heating up.

His rough hands grabbed at your ass as you rode him on the couch, skin slapping from how fast he was guiding you. You could feel every inch of his condom-covered cock fill you up, and only craved more as you feverishly rubbed your clit.

Your eyes met his own amongst the pleasure, making your chest flutter from the intensity and passion. He was hungry for your body; the taste, the feel. It’s something he's been craving for months; watching you parade around in your tight skirts. Steve gave him shit about it constantly, clocking nearly immediately how much Javier took a liking to you, but he always brushed it off.

“God, cariño,” He groaned, watching your breasts bounce. You bit your lip as he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, switching positions so your back was now on the couch and he was standing.

His cock plunged back into you immediately, causing you to call out his name, nails digging into his arms which had moved down as his hands grasped your hips.

“Javi,” It was breathy and caused him to falter at how sexy his name sounded falling from your lips. He’s heard it a million times before, but not like this, not so needy and whiny.

It caused him to pick up his pace, watching your face twist with delight as he fucked you into the couch. Many women have been in this very spot, but you outstand them by far. Your pussy fit his throbbing cock like a glove, your breasts are the perfect shape and size for his hands and lips, your mouth did wonderful things as well. The blowjob you gave him before you fucked nearly made him bust like a damn teenager.

“Oh, you're going to make me cum,” Your voice rasped out of your throat as your nails dug into his biceps. This would be the third time he's making you finish for the night, a personal record. You haven't had amazing partners in bed in the past.

The familiar burn began to form in your lower belly, your nerves feeling as though they were electric. The man released his hand from your hip and moved it to your core, thumb quickly rubbing your clit in fast circles.

“Cum for me, hermosa,” He grunted, feeling your pussy clench around his cock. The sensation caused his own orgasm to begin to rush up on him, prompting him to thrust faster.

Your orgasm washed through your body as you moaned Javier’s name loudly, head tilted back into the couch cushions from the overwhelming sensation. You could feel the man's thrusts get sloppier until he too came, cock buried deep in your pussy with a groan, little whispers of praise leaving his lips.

“It was uh-” You paused, feeling your own face gaining heat at the memory, “Good. I'll tell you that.”

“I'm so happy that this happened.” Connie gushed, leaning forwards in excitement, “Steve and I have had a bet going on for months. He owes me five bucks.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, wanting her to relish in the excitement before you dropped the bombshell of reality onto the woman. As much as Connie and Steve- apparently- wanted this to happen, it just wasn't going to. You made that clear with Javier, now you'll have to do the same with them.

---

“Hey,” Javier’s low voice caught your attention, causing your stomach to drop. You’ve been avoiding him to the best of your abilities since that night seven weeks ago.

Not only because you slept together, but also because, just last night, you found out you were expecting.

The light knock on your apartment door caused you to jump off of the couch and rush over, pulling open the entryway. Connie greeted you with a pitiful, yet encouraging grin. You could see the brown paper bag in her grasp as she slipped into your home, walking past you.

“Do you really think it’s-” She began, walking until she stood in the living room while also handing you the bag.

“Yes.” You cut her off, opening the paper bag to reveal two pregnancy tests. You felt your stomach churn at the sight and swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up.

“What did you tell Steve?” You asked, looking back up at the blonde before treading over to the bathroom.

“He's not even home yet. Him and Javier had to go somewhere following a tip regarding Poison.” She shrugged her shoulders, sitting down on the couch. You chewed your lip, not only anxious for the result of the pregnancy tests, but now for your boys. You should be out there with them... but you're sick at home because of one.

You nodded even though she couldn't see and quietly stepped into the bathroom. It didn't take long for you to do what the instructions asked, anxious enough for the result.

When you flipped the two tests over, revealing little pink pluses on each, bile immediately rose to your throat, causing you to rush over to the toilet and release the contents of your belly.

Connie was quick to knock on the door before entering, rushing over to your figure and rubbing your back for comfort. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the tests, widening when she saw the evident positive on both, before looking back down at your sad figure.

“Oh, honey,” She whispered softly as you raised your head, tears streaming down your cheeks hotly. She grabbed some toilet paper from nearby and gently patted them away, hand cupping your cheek.

“I just… didn't expect this.” You sniffled, shaking your head “We used protection, I-” You stopped and shook your head, a fresh set of tears streaming down your cheeks.

You haven't exactly slept without anyone since Javier. Anytime you tried picking up someone at the bar after work, they just weren't the same. You couldn't even make it past a heated make out session before feeling the need to kick them out or leave.

“What's up?” You didn't dare look at him, your stomach still twisting. You kept your gaze at the manila file in your grasp, facing shelves full of boxes containing files.

“You alright?” He questioned, stepping further into the room, eyeing down your back. You swallowed, hearing his footsteps as they got closer to your figure.

“I’m fine, why?” You furrowed your brow, finally raising your head and looking over your shoulder at the man. He could see the emotions you were so desperately trying to hide, making his own chest ache.

The truth is, the night you fucked had also been stuck on his mind. And the obvious avoidance you've shown has been messing with his head. He understood nothing more was to come from that night in his apartment, but he didn't expect you to be so cold; even at work.

When he walks into a room, you leave it. And if you're sitting at your desks, you always make an excuse to go work in the conference room. Not just that, but you also won't even look at him half the time, and only address Steve when the three of you are standing together.

“No reason.” Javier shook his head, “Murphy just wanted to know if you found the file?” He quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just found it,” You began, finding the confidence to turn around and meet his gaze, “Was just reading through to make sure it was the right one.” You noticed how close he’d stepped into the small room; nearly trapping you against the wall of files. It made your heart race and emotions run amuck.

This is why you had been avoiding him.

Early pregnancy symptoms have been kicking your ass. And having Javier there to rub your back when you felt cramps, or hold your hair back when you were nauseous hanging over the toilet, was something you craved.

“We should get back to Steve then.” The man commented. You nodded, eyes averting from his face to his chest. The shirt he was wearing had been unbuttoned dangerously low, making your cheeks fill with heat. You no longer had to imagine what his bare chest looked like, as you've already gotten to see it.

“Is there something on my shirt?” Javier's voice broke you from your memory, and you felt your face gain heat rapidly.

“No.” You quickly stuttered out, shaking your head, and pushing past him to get out of the corner he had trapped you in.

---

By sixteen weeks, your pants wouldn't button anymore, and your bump was getting less easy to hide. You had to switch to baggier blouses and stretch pants. Luckily, having male work partners, they haven't noticed your changing body yet.

It came as a surprise because you've since quit smoking, drinking, and caffeinated coffee.

Connie has been keeping your secret well. You begged her not to tell Steve until you were ready, to which she agreed. She understood you needed time to figure everything out. Being a single, pregnant woman is mostly frowned upon this day in age. Not that you care about that bullshit, but you don't particularly enjoy being the center of attention.

You also need to figure out if and when you are going to tell Javier. Deep down, you know you should. And if you end up getting sent back to the states because everyone found out, then that's fine as well.

Your plan was to stay and help as much as you could, until near the end of your pregnancy. When it reaches that time, you'll take maternity leave combined with your vacation days, and fly back home. After your baby is born… you don't really know what you're going to do.

A knock on your apartment door caught your attention, and you stood up, brows furrowing. It was late, close to midnight. You had gotten off work a short amount of hours ago, but weren't expecting any visitors.

You reached into your purse and pulled out your gun, making sure it was loaded before slowly treading to the front door. Looking through the peephole, your stomach dropped as to who stood in the hallway.

Unarming your pistol, you placed it back onto your purse before returning over to the door and opening it.

“Javier?” You had seen him at work earlier, but his sudden appearance at your apartment, blocks away from his own, was a shock.

Despite trying your best to ignore him earlier in your pregnancy, you eventually learned to push your feelings about everything to the back burner and only talk shop. No personal life was discussed, only work.

“I need to talk to you.” He spoke, brown eyes boring into your own. You felt your stomach drop, nodding as you stepped aside and allowed him in. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as soon as he walked by you, heading towards the couch.

“What's up?” You questioned, pulling your robe tighter around your body while watching him sit. You had gotten out of the shower only twenty minutes ago, and hadn't bothered to get clothed yet, save for a bra and underwear.

“I need to ask you about the coordinates to Escobar's current hideout.” He spoke, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket.

“Oh, um, please don't smoke in here.” You commented, swallowing heavily. The man gave you a quizzical look, tucking the cigarettes back into his pocket.

“Are you quitting or something?” He questioned.

“Something like that.” You spoke, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, “So, what questions do you have?”

“Carillo and the Search Bloc are going to drop into Escobar’s tomorrow morning. I'm having my informant confirm the coordinates once more, you should have yours do the same.” Javier answered, looking you down.

Seeing you there sitting in your robe, fresh out of the shower caused his heart to pick up and cock come to attention. Your cleavage had popped out, the robe slightly splitting open at the top when you sat down. He couldn't help but notice that your breasts seemed larger. Your legs were also deliciously exposed, and looked so soft.

The man just wanted to feel your skin; squish the meat of your thighs, kiss the gorgeous crevice where your legs meet your torso.

“I’ll get a hold of them.” You nodded towards him, “You came all this way just for that?” You then questioned.

The man muttered something about tapped phone lines- which you suspected was a lie- before asking if you had any liquor.

With a nod, you stood up and walked over to your kitchen, pulling a bottle of whiskey out the cabinet. You then poured him a glass before carrying both the freshly poured liquor and the bottle back over to the couch, placing them down in front of his figure.

Truthfully, you miss both drinking and smoking. But the health of your baby is more important than the poison you use to ease your mind.

Sitting back down, you watched the man take a hefty gulp before refilling his glass. You bit your lip, playing with the hem of your robe as the two of you sat there in silence. You were unsure of what to say, wanting to avoid everything besides work.

Your inner voice was suggesting otherwise, fighting for you to tell him the news. You know it isn't fair to keep it a secret, as he at least deserves to know that he’s going to be a father- Not that he has to stay and help raise the kid.

You have fully come to terms with the fact that you're going to be a single mom, raising the baby on your own.

“Javier…” You began, playing with your fingers. The man turned his gaze, searching your face, questioning as to what you're going to say. You took his silence as your signal to continue on, “Do you remember when we slept together four months ago?”

“How could I forget,” The man spoke, a smug expression crossing his face as he took a sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes at his comment before taking a deep breath, “Uh, well. I-I think the condom broke.”

The man's cheerful expression quickly dropped into a serious one as he set the glass harshly down onto the table, standing up, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure.” You frowned in return, standing up as well and untying the robe to expose the small bump of your belly. You watched the man's eyes drop to your mostly naked body. He first stopped at your breasts, admiring how enticing they looked tucked in your bra, before trailing down to your stomach. He could see the shadow the bump caused, sending his heart into his throat.

“I found out at seven weeks. My period was late.” You broke the silence, retying your robe. “I admit I didn't know how to tell you- If I was even going to in the first place. But, I'm getting to a point where I can't hide it anymore. And…” You paused, swallowing, “You deserve to know.”

Javier only stared you down, resting his hands on his hips, “And you haven't slept with other guys?”

“No, I haven't slept with other men.” You felt hurt by his question even though it was reasonable. The two of you don't have a claim over the other, “I-I tried after our night together and… couldn't. I know that you're the father.” You brought your hand down to your bump. Your baby was still small, only being sixteen weeks along, but you have grown to love the thing with your whole heart.

“Look, I-I need time to think about this.” Javier muttered, shaking his head. You felt your heart begin to race at his comment, even though you'd already prepared yourself for heartbreak.

The man doesn't want to be tied down, he proved that by walking out on his wedding with Lorraine all those years ago, and the various women he circulates through in a week. You should've expected his rejection.

“I don't expect you to be a part of this.” You quickly spoke, trying to reassure him- and yourself, “I fully am ready to do it on my own. I have been since I found out. I won't tell anyone it's yours.”

He stared at you before nodding silently. This is certainly not what he expected when he came to your apartment this evening; he had different intentions. He missed you. He missed your body and the way you taste. The hookers and informants he's been fucking the last four months have been like dirt compared to you.

But now knowing that you were carrying his kid? It all felt so overwhelming.

“I-It’s probably best if you go…” You spoke so quietly, wrapping your robe tighter around your body, his silence beginning to make your heart race.

“Hermosa-” Javier began, but you saw him hesitate to speak. He only nodded and turned on his heel before stepping over to the door and leaving swiftly.

The moment Javier left your apartment, you couldn't stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. You felt overwhelmed, sliding down the back of your front door after he had shut it, hands covering your face.

You felt guilty for kicking him out, and even regret it a little. Even though he told you he needed time, he looked so upset when you told him to leave. And what was he going to say just before exiting? Why did he stop himself?

You cried on the floor for god knows how long before making your way to your land-line, which sat on the side table next to the couch. You needed a friend- Connie- who usually made you feel better about the situation you're in.

The phone dial rang two times before someone answered. When you blubbered a somber greeting, you immediately recognized that Steve had answered when he questioned if you were alright.

“Steve,” You bit your lip, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Can I speak to Connie?”

“She’s asleep,” His southern accent spoke loudly through your receiver, “Are you sure you're fine?”

you sighed heavily at his question, silent tears streaming down your face as you sat on the couch. You figured now would be the time to break the news. He’s become a close friend since meeting in Miami; both him and his wife.

“Steve, I have something to tell you.” You began with a sniffle, “I-I’m pregnant…”

Your partner was silent for several moments before he finally spoke, “Jesus. Does Connie know?”

“Yes. She helped me find out, actually.” You wiped your eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm down your emotions. The distraction of Steve was helping, along with lifting a heavy weight off of your shoulder. But Javier still lingered on your mind; his displeased face haunting the back of your eyes every time you blinked.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier? Does Peña know too?” Steve then questioned, causing your heart to wrench. A new lump formed and a fresh set of tears began to fill your eyes, spilling down your cheeks.

“Javier knows,” Your voice cracked as you spoke, “He’s the father.”

“Oh,” The blonde's deep voice came across quiet through the receiver of your telephone, “I’m so sorry.”

---

Bullets ricocheted across the surrounding brick walls, nearly hitting you as you quickly jumped behind a barrier. You could hear your partner yelling in Spanish from the rooftops, as he had taken a separate route, while you quickly hid from the gunfire.

Streams of silent curses left your lips, brick dust and chunks flying throughout the air from bullets. You could feel your heart beating against your chest, adrenaline pumping hotly, as you held your pistol in hand.

The gunfire finally stopped a handful of seconds later, but it was soon followed by the sound of a car peeling away down the street, causing you to peek over the wall. La Quica and Poison were gone and the street was empty due to the gunfire.

“Shit,” You cursed just as your partner approached the brick wall you hid behind.

“What the fuck were you doing?” Javier’s angry voice caused you to roll your eyes, reholstering your pistol before facing him.

“What?” You furrowed your brow in anger.

“You could've gotten hurt. You're not even wearin’ a fuckin’ vest.” He continued on, gesturing to the blouse donning your top. You merely stood and listened as he ranted. He never used to be this protective over you. Not even after you slept together and before you found out about your pregnancy.

“Why the fuck did you chase them?”

“We could've had them if you hadn't taken the roof!” You yelled back, arm raising as you harshly poked him in the chest.

Javier Immediately clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing towards your figure. You know he wanted to snap back vile words in return, but kept his composure. He couldn't bring himself to, not when you're pregnant, especially with his kid. He already made you draw the short straw, he didn’t need to cut it even smaller.

“Get your ass into the jeep.” He spoke through grit teeth, choosing to abandon the argument all together. You scoffed, kindling his temper even further. He needs a cigarette as soon as the two of you get back to the office.

“Peña told me about Poison and La Quica.” Steve’s southern drawl caused you to lift your head from staring at some paperwork.

“Did he also tell you about how he was a dumbass-”

“You need to get your head out of your ass, agent.” The blonde man spoke deadpan, cutting off whatever you were about to spew. He didn’t care, all he knew was that Javier had smoked four cigarettes in the span of an hour after you had gotten back. He finally confronted the man as to why the two of you were acting so off after your outing.

“Javier was scared. Though he may not act like it, he’s terrified of losing you- and the baby.” The man whispered the last part, knowing you haven’t told the rest of the office yet, “He admitted it to me just before I came to confront you. ”

You felt your heart clench, quickly averting your gaze from Steve, “I-I didn’t realize.”

“Peña may not have been the best choice to… procreate with. But, you’ve gotta throw him a bone.” Your partner mumbled softly, catching your attention once again.

“I’ll talk to him.” You swallowed with a nod, standing up from your desk.

“I’m sorry.” You immediately spoke once Javier had settled back at his desk. The man spent hours doing some meaningless task in the file room; most likely just to avoid you. “I haven’t been taking your feelings into account. I just… assumed you didn’t care.”

“I figured that was what you wanted.” Javier simply answered, eyes meeting your own. He leaned in his desk chair, arm draping over the backrest.

“No-” You quickly yelped, feeling your face gather heat, “I mean…Can we talk in the conference room?” You then whispered, suddenly so aware of your coworkers and how silent the office seemed. Nobody's eyes were on you and Peña, but you could tell they had purposely stilled their movements to hear better.

The man only gave you a simple nod, gesturing for you to lead the way.

Once the two of you had made it to the conference room, you quickly closed the door and blinds on the window-filled wall. The sensation of Javier's eyes on your back urged you to turn around.

“First, I want to apologize for acting like such an ass out in the field. I'm used to only having to worry about myself, and I wasn't thinking about…” You trailed off, hand hovering over your belly, “I should've been vested. And followed you onto the roof.” You added, finally making eye contact with the man.

He sat leaning against the conference table, arms folded which caused his biceps to bulge deliciously. You know if you weren't pregnant, he'd have a lit cigarette between his lips.

“I want to apologize too. I shouldn’t have acted out. I-” He cut himself off, standing up straight now, “I care about you, and the kid.” He gestured to your belly, glancing down. You had the bump hidden quite well under a flowy blouse, but even just knowing it was there caused his heart to pick up speed.

Unable to stop the smile from growing across your cheeks, you dropped your head shyly. He had spoken such simple words, but they meant everything to you. Never did you expect for him to say he was sorry, as well as admit emotion. It almost made you hopeful- but you quickly had to shut down that feeling, not wanting to get disappointed or hurt. You know that nothing is going to come from this. Javier is nothing more than your baby’s father. He’s probably just apologizing to keep you happy.

You then cleared your throat and met his gaze once more, having properly discouraged yourself, “So, are we good?”

“Yes.” He murmured.

You gave him one last nod before turning on your heel, approaching the door. Standing alone with him was beginning to feel overwhelming.

“Wait,” Javier interrupted your exit, grasping your bicep and pulling you back over to him. His other hand cupped your jaw in the process, pulling your gaze up to match his as his lips met your own with fervor.

Melting into the kiss, your arms grasped onto his shirt, pulling your chests taught. His arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up from your ass and quickling placing you onto the conference table just behind your bodies. Wrapping your legs around his figure, your hands moved up to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair.

“God,” Javier groaned against your lips, hands fishing under your blouse. Your body reacted delightfully to his touch, only yearning for more.

“Missed you,” You mumbled. Javier unhooked your bra and pulled it away from your chest, quickly cupping your breasts as soon as they hung freely. He could feel how swollen and full they’d gotten, only causing his mouth to water.

Javier then growled, fingers twisting your nipple softly, “I need to fuck you,”

His statement caused your pussy to throb, but you quickly pushed him away, “Not in the office.”

“Why not?” He frowned, head twisting in question as he stepped backwards towards the door, locking it, “Just need to be quiet.”

Biting your lip, your morals fought a losing battle as the man began unbuttoning his top and slowly stepping towards your seated figure. He returned to the same position he was before, securing your legs around his waist once more. He then guided your arms up, taking off your blouse, allowing your bra to fall off in the process.

You heard him softly groan at the sight of your breasts before he leaned over, lips meeting the delicate skin of your nipple, sucking and biting tenderly. Tossing your head back in pleasure, you felt as the man began to grind his hips into your own, hard cock pressing up uncomfortably against his tight jeans.

Reaching down, you rubbed him through the denim, causing him to falter in his movements, “Christ, hermosa,”

Finding the hem of your pants, the man slipped his hand in past your underwear feeling the full bush of your pussy before his fingertips met your clit. Accidentally moaning at the sensation, Javier quickly put his hand up to your mouth, covering it gently. Your arousal only caused his cock to throb harder.

Unzipping his jeans, he freed himself and gave his dick a few pumps, grumbling lowly, “Gonna fuck you,”

“Please,” You pleaded against his other hand, which was still covering your mouth.

Lifting your ass up off of the table momentarily, the man slid your pants and underwear down, exposing your pussy for him to enjoy. Mouth watering at the sight, he dropped to his knees, quickly dipping his tongue deep into your core. Biting your lip to repress the sounds of pleasure you wanted to spew, your lower belly grew hot with pleasure as Javier sucked your clit harshly and slid two fingers in.

“Oh- God, Javi-” You whimpered, one of your hands lifting from the table and tangling into his hair. You could hardly see him over your pregnant belly, making the reach a little difficult. The man hummed against your pussy, pleased with how well you were responding to him. Recalling the last time you had sex, your bodies naturally seemed to understand each other perfectly; and it seems it’s happening this time as well.

With his tongue working expertly against your clit, your pussy clenched around his fingers. He could feel that you were getting close to coming, and picked up his pace in combination with sucking your little bundle of nerves more harshly.

“Cum for me, cariño.” You heard Javier growl, just before you couldn’t take it anymore and felt your orgasm wash through your entire body.

The man wasted no time licking you clean before standing back up, quickly plunging his cock deep into heat. His hand covered your mouth once more, silencing the yelp of pleasure that was leaving your lips. Thrusting his hips, the man fucked you roughly on the conference table, causing it to shake with the movements. You could feel every inch as he did so, only adding to your pleasure.

Balancing your weight onto one hand, you moved the other down to your clit and rubbed feverishly, throwing your head back in pleasure. Clenching around the man's cock at the sensation, he groaned softly, faltering his thrusts slightly before continuing.

“Fuck you feel so fucking tight. If you weren’t already pregnant, I’d do it again.” He grumbled as one of his hands rested on your belly, helping move your body to the rhythm of his thrusts, “Your pussy feels that good.”

Your second orgasm caught you by surprise, the man's words luring you there quickly. Javier’s own orgasm followed closely behind, your cunt clenching around his cock, milking him thoroughly. His head tossed back in pleasure, continuing to thrust lazily until you both became too sensitive at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Javier cursed while tucking himself back into his jeans, still breathing heavily. His button-down remained open, deliciously showing off his gleaming, sweat covered chest. You paused at the sight, biting your lip, before slipping off the table and collecting yourself as well.

“We should get back to work,” You murmured, embarrassment slowly setting in, now realizing you just fucked Javier in a very inappropriate place. Anyone could’ve knocked on the door or windows; and what if it happened to be Steve or the Ambassador?

Instead of responding vocally, Javier only nodded, eyeing your frame up and down as he buttoned his shirt back up.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #javier pena smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

255 notes · View notes

justastrugglinghotchocolate · 4 months

Text

Ya’ll I used to jokingly consider this, but nah, there is enough evidence in the book to suggest:

Henry ruins Dorian out of spite and jealousy towards Basil for moving on from him.

Let’s get right into this.

I went back into the book because I wanted to review the post I made about Henry and misogyny earlier. Besides the usual annoyance at Henry’s dumb stupid rant, I noticed this line:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

And then it hit me that Henry’s worst rants about women only come after the topic of marriage, but more specifically, commitment. Which then led to an even more interesting idea: I’m pretty sure Henry mostly uses ‘women’ as cover to complain about Basil and Basil’s ‘lack of commitment to him.’

I want to note that there’s a lot of interesting things in regards to Henry and his relationship with women that I’d love to go into, but this will focus solely on him and Basil.

Here’s what Henry says in his misogynistic ass rant after Sibyl dies. (This is from the 1891 ver):

“But [Sibyl] would have soon found out that you were absolutely indifferent to her. And when a woman finds that out about her husband, she either becomes dreadfully dowdy, or wears very smart bonnets that some other woman’s husband has to pay for.”

Basil is often considered ‘unfashionable’/‘dowdy’ by Henry’s standards. This is only further proven in what he says about Basil’s disappearance:

“Why should he have been murdered? He was not clever enough to have enemies. Of course, he had a wonderful genius for painting. But a man can paint like Velasquez and yet be as dull as possible. Basil was really rather dull. He only interested me once, and that was when he told me, years ago, that he had a wild adoration for you and that you were the dominant motive of his art.”

But that isn’t all. The last part of that quote matches one to one to Henry’s claim about women (or Sibyl, specifically). Basil was not only ‘dull’, but his only ‘fashionable’ attribute, his art, grew ‘dowdy’ once he discovered Dorian’s indifference to him.

Henry also says this about women:

“Good resolutions are useless attempts to interfere with scientific laws. Their origin is pure vanity. Their result is absolutely nil.”

And later:

“But women never know when the curtain has fallen. They always want a sixth act, and as soon as the interest of the play is entirely over, they propose to continue it. If they were allowed their own way, every comedy would have a tragic ending, and every tragedy would culminate in a farce. They are charmingly artificial, but they have no sense of art.”

Guess who makes resolutions regarding goodness? Basil, who refuses to believe that Dorian is nothing but a good, pure man.

“[Basil] could not bear the idea of reproaching [Dorian] any more. After all, his indifference was probably merely a mood that would pass away. There was so much in him that was good, so much in him that was noble.”

Basil’s arc traditionally should have ended once Dorian rejects him. Between that chapter and the chapter where Basil dies, there is no mention of Basil in any form. By all means, Basil’s role in the story is over—and then he demands the ‘sixth act’ to confront Dorian.

And finally:

“Besides, nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner. Conscience makes egotists of us all. Yes; there is really no end to the consolations that women find in modern life. Indeed, I have not mentioned the most important one.”

“What is that, Harry?” said the lad listlessly.

“Oh, the obvious consolation. Taking some one else’s admirer when one loses one’s own.”

Now before I point out the obvious irony of Henry literally 'taking someone else's admirer' (henry actually has a lot in common with his 'criticisms' of women), I want to bring your attention to a key part we don’t discuss enough about in the book.

““Life has always poppies in her hands. Of course, now and then things linger. I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die. Ultimately, however, it did die. I forget what killed it. I think it was her proposing to sacrifice the whole world for me. That is always a dreadful moment. It fills one with the terror of eternity. Well—would you believe it?—a week ago, at Lady Hampshire’s, I found myself seated at dinner next the lady in question, and she insisted on going over the whole thing again, and digging up the past, and raking up the future. I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

So I’m gonna make an educated guess and say Henry is lying his ass off here. He did not have a ‘romance’ with a woman. He certainly did not get an emotional, romantic attachment with a ‘woman’. I feel comfortable saying this because 1) his general distaste for women literally points to this being bullshit and 2) a significant change that was made from the 1890 version of the book to the 1891 version.

This is the quote in 1890:

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as mourning for a romance that would not die.”

This is 1891:

“I once wore nothing but violets all through one season, as a form of artistic mourning for a romance that would not die.”

Well, well, well, who is the arti—It’s Basil. He’s literally talking about Basil here. AND GUESS WHAT VIOLETS MEAN IN VICTORIAN FLOWER LANGUAGE?

A couple of things actually, but the top three are:

‘Faithfulness, Modesty, and Love.’

Henry emotionally had been faithful to Basil. While I doubt he was monogamous in anyway, Basil held a special place that no else would ever have. Not even Dorian.

And this brings me back to the quote that originally sent me down this rabbit hole:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of asphodel.”

In the 1890 version, it says:

“I had buried my romance in a bed of poppies.”

Poppies are known to mean death and would have fit perfectly if Henry was saying he felt nothing for the relationship, but what does asphodel mean?

‘Love Beyond The Grave’, ‘Remembered Beyond The Tomb’ and sometimes, ‘My regrets follow you to the grave’.

(NOTE: please keep in mind floriography could mean certain things based on the color and the type of flowers. That being said, considering Wilde described the shit out of every setting he wrote, the lack of detail about the flowers suggest the most broad meaning is meant to be taken.)

Henry isn't over Basil. He couldn't kill the love, so he buried it and took Dorian as a consolation and revenge. He will never be able to get over Basil until Basil or himself dies.

BOY DO I HAVE GOOD NEWS FOR HENRY/s

#long post #this is an opinion and a theory.#the picture of dorian gray #basil hallward #dorian gray #henry wotton #book theory #been workshopping this for some time #this post is very long and i didn't even get to go into my favorite example ;-;#anyways shout out to TheMissingMask on Ao3 for writing the fanfic that first got me into this theory. Their fanfic Eros is really good!!#You should read it #honestly read all their tpodg fics #does this make me an english major? uh oh #if someone else has made this kind of post already my bad lol #use this as supplemental or even confirmation #i will be back with the more headcanon-y part that relates to the first chapter alone. but for now i've got a chapter to finish ;)

75 notes · View notes

raayllum · 1 year

Note

Hi! What are your thoughts on Callum’s biological father? I am curious. I have theories but I am wondering if you (or anyone else) has any ideas about what sort of story this may be.

While it may be nice if nothing is mentioned (perhaps he bears no relevance to the story whatsoever, which is fine) it may also be an interesting plot device. For example- we have this backstory about Soren being very unwell, and Viren used dark magic to save him… perhaps at the cost of his relationship with his ex-wife. We don’t know what he did… but we know that serious spells involve the use of another person’s life. Harrow seemed to know that Viren has done some pretty questionable stuff, and besides all this, we don’t know if Callum/Sarai are actually from Katolis to begin with. What if (and I am just theorising purely on a what if and no evidence whatsoever) Sarai’s husband / Callum’s dad was the unfortunate recipient of one of virens spells, if not using his life directly for Soren’s, but even transferring the ailment to him instead… as we know soren “wouldn’t be alive without (dark) magic”. Pretty dark and questionable things must have happened, as we know it seemed to tear Soren’s family apart. Soren had this strange dislike for Callum for a long time (yes- it was said that perhaps he was jealous of the King’s affection for Callum despite not being his biological son) but… what if it goes deeper than that? Viren disliked Callum strongly. Perhaps Callum is a constant reminder of what Viren did and why his family fell apart. It would explain why Callum’s dad is not there (either missing or passed away) and would be an interesting point of contention for Callum’s relationship with Soren/ Viren, whatever may happen in future seasons. We also know Sarai strongly dislikes dark magic and would explain why Harrow (who must have supported dark magic in the past) would have changed his stance upon learning something like that happened. I imagine that if this were the case, Sarai wouldn’t have known about it fully (as she would not have tolerated Viren’s presence), but maybe she met Harrow upon visiting the castle after Soren’s recovery (in place of her husband, who is no longer there).

I don’t know, I’m just throwing loose theories around! I’m curious to hear if you have any interesting ideas about this. I wonder if maybe his dad was a doctor/ medic of some sort and would explain why he would be “visiting” Katolis to assess Soren’s ailment (or something along those lines). I could be barking up completely the wrong tree, and perhaps he bears no relevance to any plot line at all and is simply going to be known as “Sarai’s past love and Callum’s dad”. But we know absolutely NOTHING about him- no profession, no story, not even what he looks like. Surely we would have some small drop of this of it was totally irrelevant..? Or something official would have been mentioned? What do you think? It’s definitely open to a lot of theorising until something is given to us!!

I think ultimately TDP is going the Trollhunters’ route in which Callum being the king’s stepson mostly exists to explore blended families and dynamics than having a strong impact on the story. I also don’t think Viren and Callum’s dynamic needs that layering as heavily, either, tbh; if Viren’s spells had cost a human life directly I don’t think Harrow would’ve knowingly let it slide, I don’t think Viren would’ve gone that far with other humans previously (although who knows), and Harrow did support dark magic in the past! In 2x05 Viren’s plan is exciting and hopeful to him and he doesn’t understand Sarai’s moral reservations with it until she literally spells it out to him. It’s only a slow build after her death that causes him to reject it outright.

I do have always enjoyed the headcanon of Callum’s father being a dark mage who was wounded / died in one of his own accidents (re: breaking family cycles gets doubled down on, Sarai’s strong aversion to dark magic, etc). I implied it loosely in a fic about Callum’s childhood here (feat. lots of Opeli) and ever so slightly in “if time is money” (very long post-s3 multichap) but I’d like to explore it as well in future fics such as:

for any trace: Finally, the boy says, “You knew my mother?” “No.” The High Mage of Evenere adjusts his glasses. “But I knew your father.” OR Callum goes to Evenere post-s4 to hunt down info on Aaravos

The Unimaginable: “Don’t marry him.” / You always call your daughter a princess. You don’t expect it to come true. AKA Harrai’s courtship with her parents’ feelings over it and her death

I’m hoping to get the first one out before S5 since it’s a post-S4 speculation thing (even if I don’t expect it to line up with canon at all but hey, fanon’s gonna fanon) and I have no time estimate on the second, only Eventually, lmao

But traditionally I HC as Amaya and Sarai growing up away from the castle in a smaller village (still in Katolis as a kingdom though) with Amaya being head crownguard and Sarai taking up the post when Amaya leaves to join and/or lead the Standing Battalion instead. I actually touch on some of this in my Viren adopts Rayla AU as well, funnily enough (which I still very much want to get back to)

#thanks for asking #headcanons #pre series #the royal family of katolis #queen sarai #anonymous #requests

18 notes · View notes

unohanabbygirl · 8 months

Note

Could you give some insight on how HIPS would have played out if Luke hadn’t gotten pregnant? While it may have been a positive for the weeks in his recovery for his mind and body, I feel as if it weakens his claim in the eyes of the court for what Aemond’s did to him. As crude as it is, in that world Osferth is considered evidence of what Aemond did.

You’re absolutely right.

Despite how horrible it is, Osferth not only existing but looking exactly like Aemond is the only reason Luke is believed to be a victim in the eyes of most. Their son acts as clear cut proof that the assault did happen as Luke claims. Though the greens do try to spin it in their favor by making up a ridiculous lie somewhere along the lines of “Rape?! There was no rape. These two were simply an alpha and omega high on hormone’s who wanted a good time. No omega rapers here 😁”

This little lie falls pieces almost immediately because not only does Aemond not remember the entire story, therefore is the main person having a fucking panic attack because that boy beside his supposedly dead nephew (that he allegedly killed) has Luke’s coloring and his entire face, but also that Rhaenyra is the last person who would ever disown a child for having sex out of wedlock. So why in the world would Luke feel so much pressure and shame that he thought pretending to be dead was a better option than simply returning home? Him having been assaulted makes the most sense, therefore he’s believed by the general public and most of every house great and minor alike.

However, without Osferth’s existence the situation would’ve been Luke’s word against Aemond’s, and as an newly flowered omega whose been followed by rumors of bastardy his entire life, such a situation wouldn’t be tilted in Luke’s favor at all. He’d be called a liar, a whore, accused of having sex with someone else and trying to pin it as a crime on Aemond, etc. Not to mention that finding him another betrothal since he and Rhaena couldn’t have children would basically be impossible. He’s “used goods” not to mention incredibly traumatized and will likely never have the desired for a sexual relationship. Let alone a marriage that must produce at least one alpha child.

Though Corlys would want Luke to remain his heir regardless of second gender it’s simply too much of a risk in such a misogynistic social climate. Its one thing to fight for Rhaenyra despite her being a woman because she and her heir are alpha’s. They’re fighters and protecters by nature. But an omega? Docile, meek, seen as a gift to humanity for nothing more than childbearing? Very few would be willing to fight for his claim if it were to cause an uproar as they’re willing to fight for Rhaenyra.

Sadly, getting pregnant was the best case scenario for Luke’s future. Though bearing the child of the man that assaulted you is horribly traumatic in its own right, Luke grows to love his son more than anything. A world where Osferth never exists is a world where Luke not only faces more pain, but becomes a shut in whose ashamed of being seen by the public after years of humiliation at court. Nothing more than another stain on the blacks sigil.

I feel that this is a world where Luke’s depression begins to spiral since he doesn’t have Osferth to remain strong for. He’d become manic to a certain degree or make an attempt on his own life because without having that reason to keep fighting, there isn’t much of a point in the eyes of someone who’s mental state is so damaged.

#asks

5 notes · View notes

asachuu · 10 months

Text

(3/10)

Part 2: what exactly is Rimlaine?

[List of all parts]

[Part 1]

I’m counting on the fact that some people reading this might not be too familiar with this ship, or perhaps they’re wondering why it gained some noteworthy popularity after Stormbringer’s release to a point I would find this an important essay to write, just in case. For this part, I will try to explain the very basic concept of it, where it seemed to originate and why I think it appeals to others. While detailed recollections of light novel events only come after this section, I must also give a fair warning that from this point onwards, I do expect people to have read both 15/SB novels, at least to understand the vague context of what I will be talking about, or to simply not mind spoilers.

Rimlaine, for those who aren’t that aware, is a ship between Arthur Rimbaud/Randou and Paul Verlaine from BSD. It had a fairly small, niche audience since the release of Fifteen, but has gained quite a fair share of liking compared to its early days since Stormbringer came out. Granted, it’s absolutely nowhere near the levels of ships such as Soukoku or Shin Soukoku, but it certainly is more noticeable nowadays due to SB practically introducing Paul to the story properly, especially if you enter spaces centered around these two light novels or the two characters involved.

Now, what makes this ship appealing to people? In a certain way, I don’t quite know myself. I have never even considered it might be taken this way by the fandom back when I read the first light novel and I wasn’t able to change my mind down the line, either. However, I am somewhat familiar with the “concepts” it seems to portray and have seen some similar, much more beloved equivalents to it in other pieces of media, and I’ve also heard it be discussed many times to a degree I believe I have gained some possible understanding of the community, and thus will try to assess it this way without looking at it through my own lens. A far more detailed assessment will only be in further parts, though.

From the beginning, at the time of Fifteen being the only novel featuring Arthur and a cameo of Paul at the very end in it, the main thing I noticed was that it being so close to an actual, canonical relationship made a handful of people simply accept it as such, which became quite a prevalent talking point in this topic back then. As is obvious from the start, Bungou Stray Dogs is a series with characters based on actual authors, and many noticeably take up more traits after their real-world counterparts than simply sharing a name or their abilities being referred to by titles of their books. In the case of Arthur and Paul, one of these traits could have been the real-life poets’ actual relationship, but this was never confirmed in the story itself, nor even truly mentioned to begin with besides the pair having been “partners” at one point in time. This, unsurprisingly, caught some people’s attention– a few of those simply took it as a fact regarding the BSD characters despite no actual evidence of it, all while another few have not done so explicitly, but still began thinking of it this way due to the implications it had, no matter what the story itself stated and how the characters referred to each other, even back then. Either way, from my personal experience, the vast majority of people interested in the ship at the time always brought this up in one way or another.

I should also mention that a much smaller number have unfortunately seemed to blur the lines of reality and fiction in this area to almost unsettling extents, which I will talk about in a part entirely dedicated to the pair’s real-life counterparts, as it comes hand-in-hand with this topic.

So then, if the real people were in a relationship, isn’t it only natural to assume their namesakes would be too? At least, that’s what I think some of you might be asking now. To that I say yes, but even this has its nuances. I will elaborate on it a bit further later, but the real relationship was nothing short of a toxic, abusive mess, and had the fandom at the time wanted to see something depicting precisely what it was, that would be mostly understandable and not something I would fight against, given what the BSD series is about and how it creates its characters, but I presume many people simply saw the words “were in a relationship” and thought no further of it, especially that it was a queer relationship— a thing I’ve seen a lot of folks wish for in their respective fandoms for a sense of comfort, happiness or visibility. Still, that changes absolutely nothing about how destructive it truly was, and there is nothing wrong with wishing to see the true time it was supposedly based off of, even just to some degree that would have also fit in with the actual plot of the media itself, yet it seemed to me that this was the opposite of the case. The instances I saw someone genuinely not sugarcoat anything or erase whatever information was available to everyone back then regarding both the real and fictional worlds were so rare, I could count them on one of my hands alone.

Now, our lack of canonical information changes vastly in Stormbringer, a novel following Fifteen, released three years afterwards. In it, we get an actual look into Arthur and Paul’s backstory, as well as their time spent together. Personally, this novel only furthered my own views even more, but there are now some points– or rather, fictional tropes– people are relating this ship to. In some way, they do serve as a fair summary of it. I’ve heard it be described as tropes related to a character hating the whole world, yet only loving a single person in it, or two characters who ran out of time and missed their opportunities, even a very skewed “enemies to lovers”, and so on. I suppose I can see some of them too, except only as a mere recollection of the events, nothing else. All these outlines and some more I haven’t mentioned can absolutely be done right, even in the context of romantic ships, this is not to imply something is inherently wrong with them– unfortunately, however, Rimlaine doesn’t strike me as an example of that whatsoever. For some of these, there really is a thin line to be walked between making a tragic, yet healthy friendship/romance/etc., and making something which should not be put on a pedestal in any way. I’m not quite sure where the intentions lay with this pairing as I am not the author of the BSD novels themselves, if there even were such intentions in the first place as I believe it was meant to follow its real-life inspirations, but I’d say they must have been far closer to the latter category, to which they ended up falling entirely either way.

I will add a minor side note here, one I’m continuing from the previous part, I am placing no fault on the creator of BSD nor on anyone else who happens to create this type of content, no matter what it is, as that is a thing I and many others have also done ourselves. Creating a story is one thing, and whether we like it or not, these stories do exist in real life as well and shouldn’t be a secret, taboo topic, but actively taking that story and romanticizing it yourself is another matter, that of which is the part I do not condone.

Nevertheless, following this novel, Rimlaine gained its fair share of popularity, no longer being the ship with fans so far underground one would have to actively dig to find a lot of them. Since we got their canonical interactions, at least to some degree, people could see the way they talked together, worked together and so on. For me, that’d be a major thing I’d closely assess even just thinking about it if this was a pairing that I was already uncertain about, but I don’t think that was the case for many others. I believe, or rather, wish to believe the actual point of interest from there on came from the used tropes themselves and the tragedy it all was destined to be from the very beginning, not so much from the true dynamic between the two. Now, I certainly am not opposed to reading, watching or playing things which are intended to cause nothing but sorrow and I can also see where this appeal comes from, too, but that still doesn’t quite clear everything up. It was intended to be a tragedy, and that’s about it— whether it’s “beautiful” or “lovely”, as some have called it, is solely up to the reader’s personal tastes and opinions, however I absolutely do not believe there’s anything about it to be romanticized, which is what seems to be happening instead of mere appreciation of the story or proper acknowledgement of what occurred to give inspiration to it.

With that said, all the context for my statements, if necessary for the reader, will be provided in the next section in detail. Now, let me begin talking about the novels themselves.

[Part 3, 3.1, 3.2]

#text post #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fifteen #bsd stormbringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd arthur rimbaud #bsd paul verlaine #rimlaine #asachuu

1 note · View note

shoutogepi · 3 years

Text

A Million Times Over, part 2

┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 6.4k

[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : NSFW references (no explicit smut this chapter)

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Yaaaaaa babie so part 2 is finally finished! I’m wicked excited to finish the series next chapter and ughhh the smut is gonna be so good omg. Just wait.

𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : shout out to @shotoh for beta-reading this for me, what a saint <3

└────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┘

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🄸t was warm.

There was something heavy on your middle, but it didn’t feel like a nuisance— it was a welcome weight, one that somehow made comfort seep from your chest and fill the rest of your body with a quiet sense of peace. You hummed as sleep’s grasp on you lightened, the cogs in your mind beginning to turn. The hospital bed had never been this comfortable before, and the acrid smell of antiseptic and bustle of the doctors outside your door was peculiarly absent. Instead, a pleasant scent of laundry and cologne lingered on your pillowcase, making the corners of your mouth pull up in a droopy smile.

Your eyes opened as you recalled where you were, and whose arms you were lying in— whose gentle breaths blew at your hair and tickled the shell of your ear. Letting out a slow exhale, you blinked the sleep from your eyes, legs attempting to move, only to find them tangled with the muscled calves of your bedmate who, you prayed to whatever divine presence that was out there, was still asleep.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

However, when you tried to move away, a low groan sounded in your ear, scattering the stray hairs that laid out of place there. Like a sleeping bear, the arm around your waist curled around you tighter, pressing your entire body directly against the hard contour of his. You swallowed, blinking owlishly as you tried not to think about the sizeable semi-hardness poking into your backside, nor the rough fingertips that splayed out on the smooth expanse of your stomach at the bottom of your shirt, the very pinky dipping under the waistband of your sleep shorts and panties, palm warming your skin just enough to make your heart awaken for the day.

Your breath was caught in your throat, and you didn’t dare move another inch. Even if you didn’t have your memories of the man you shared your life with for the past few years, the moments the two of you had shared throughout the past week were enough to have butterflies fluttering to life in your stomach. The feeling of simply being in his arms, tucked under the sheets and cocooned in his warmth and his scent, it all had your body feeling like it was at peace.

At home.

Shouto’s hand was lying open beside your face, his arm tucked underneath your neck as he must’ve fallen asleep spooning you, and not since shifted away throughout the night. His fingers twitched in his sleep just slightly, and you took the moment to admire the long, slender digits. For a man of his size and stature, they were surprisingly thin, almost as if in another life he could have tickled piano keys for a living. But they were also marred with scars and calluses from his herowork— none open nor recent, seeing as he had taken the last month off to watch over you. Reaching for his hand, you traced the lines on his palm, trailing your fingertips over his skin and finding yourself lost in thought. You wondered if this was how you usually slept, if this was what you woke up to every day…

If that was your reality, you would happily accept it.

Being in Shouto’s arms made you feel safe, protected from the troubles of life. You already harbored silly feelings for him before you had even met him, and now that you had, those feelings had only been amplified, each day spent with him a catalyst to the reaction he triggered in your heart.

You bit your lip, twisting your spine so you could look at him. Holding your breath as you finally laid eyes on him, you took your time to admire him in all his slumbered glory. Your eyes loitered on his high cheekbones, the sharp angle of his jawline, and then the placid expression he donned while he slept, not plagued with the usual lacing of concern that he wore throughout the day. He was so… handsome. In all his hardened, heroic glory, he still managed to look like a prince straight out of every little girl’s storybook. And he certainly had the body to go with it as well— the fruits of his training on full display for you as you marveled at his naked chest.

Your heart leapt into your throat when he stirred, his arm around your waist coming to rub at his tired eyes. Watching his grey eye open slightly, your breath caught at the crooked grin that blossomed on his lips when he locked eyes with you.

“Mmm morning princess,” he rumbled, hand landing on your stomach to push your body backwards into his. He didn’t mind the little squeak of surprise you let out, nuzzling his face into your neck and slinging his leg across your hips once he flattened them onto the mattress. Your face felt like it was on fire, his morning… problem pressed firmly against your back now as he moaned in content, scattering lazy kisses across your throat.

You gasped when his hand on your stomach suddenly jumped up to grope your breast over your shirt, his fingers kneading tenderly as tingles fired across your nerves. It felt good to be receiving his unbridled affection— too good, really, as he started to suck at your neck. Your body cried out for his touch but you had barely even kissed last night— this was too much, too fast.

“Sh-Shouto!”

He paused, head rearing back as he detected the urgency in your voice, sleepy eyes locking with yours with his brows furrowed underneath his frazzled bed-head. It took him a moment before his eyes widened and horror replaced the slumber that had impeded his judgement before, his body jumping to the other side of the bed instantly as his cheeks flushed a bright pink. “I— I’m so sorry, Y/n, fuck— I didn’t…” he stammered, embarrassment evident as the pink turned to red, little flames sprouting on the left side of his head while his eyes flew about, unable to meet your gaze.

You instantly felt guilty, his demeanor apologetic. It was clear that he was frustrated with himself. “It’s okay, I’m not mad, I was just… it was just, um, unexpected?” you tried to laugh but it came out sounding more like a choke.

“Damn it…” Shouto mumbled, his hands coming to drag across his face morosely. The flames that licked at his side sizzled out, indicating that he was no longer so much shocked as he was contrite. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, muffled by his hands that still occupied his face. “It was just… I forgot for a second and... I didn’t mean to— to, well, come onto you. God, I’m sorry.”

You watched him for a second, your heart suddenly heavy with the sadness that leaked from his choice of words. For the first time in a long time, he had woken up with you in his arms, and he had forgotten about the absolute shitstorm of the month he’d had. That was probably how he acted when he woke up normally, as your sweet and loving boyfriend— showering you in affection was his first instinct of the day, and there was nothing wrong with that.

“It’s really okay, Sho. I was just surprised,” you peeped, trying to relieve him of some of the stress that he was so apparently harboring. “It’s not like I hated it…”

Shouto processed your words for a moment before one hand rose from his face, his brow contorted into a mix between accusatory and suggestive. There was a hint of a smile threatening to bloom on his lips, but he remained silent as he stared at you.

“I just meant that— well… we could lay here for a bit before we get up for the day. If… If that’s our usual routine or, if you would be interested in that!” You could feel your face getting hot now, the embarrassment transferring from him to you.

But Shouto chose not to tease you, instead scooting back over to you in the middle of the bed. “You always did like your morning cuddles,” he said, mouth turning at the corners into a smirk.

“Whatever, just— just keep your third leg to yourself, okay? Arms only!” You shared a quick look with him, the both of you shocked that you had really just said that.

But Shouto followed your request, flipping so he laid on his belly before his arm hooked out to bring you into his side, nose pressing up against your ear as you were on your back. The butterflies were back and busy again in your stomach— his touch just did something to you, it was both exhilarating and infuriating when he had hardly done anything.

“Never heard that one before,” he murmured lowly, snark lurking in his voice. “You’re usually quite fond of my third leg, dear.”

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

The rest of the morning went more according to plan. After a considerable amount of time lying in the sheets with Shouto cuddling into your side, you finally parted ways and went about getting ready for the day. There was a sense of giddiness pumping through your veins as your boyfriend left you stationed in front of your closet, mumbling something about preparation before you headed out.

Mostly, you were looking forward to going on your date. But then, there was also the surprised excitement that came from the sight of your walk-in closet, complete with rows of neatly organized clothes and a built-in wall with shelves and drawers, even a glass display case full of glittering jewels and gems in designs all tailored to your taste. You took a moment to pat yourself on the back. Not only did you seem to have the man of your dreams, but you had also attained your dream closet? If this was truly a dream, you most definitely did not want to wake up.

It took you an absurdly long amount of time to piece together your outfit. It was partially because you stopped to ogle at pretty much every hanger you rifled through, and partially because you were completely unsure of what clothes Shouto particularly enjoyed seeing you in. There was a sneaking suspicion that his preference was for you to not be clothed at all… but it wasn’t like you could go out on your date in your birthday suit. And, that would mean exposing your bare body to him, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that just yet.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t insanely attracted to him— because you definitely were. Just, the situation you were in was a delicate one, and when you did decide to indulge in the physicalities of your relationship, it would be after you had no more questions to ask him. You just weren’t quite there yet.

So, you decided on a pair of dark jeans and a flowy blouse that showcased your shoulders, matching the color of your shoes, belt, and purse. After a quick makeup routine, you chose to spruce up the outfit with a little jewelry, seeing as you had quite an ample selection to choose from. A shiny pair of hoops for your ears came easily enough, but you struggled to find a necklace which would pull everything together. Your eyes wandered over the chains of gold and silver, some shining with bright gems and some intricate enough with just the curve of the metal. It was then that you noticed a simple but very elegant necklace, its blue-topaz pendant catching your gaze. As you inspected the glittering stone, a warm feeling pooled in your chest, and you found your fingers reaching for the jewelry without thought. There was something special about this necklace, but what, exactly, you couldn’t identify.

It was incredibly frustrating. This was the closest you had come to remembering anything since you had woken up a week ago… and while it was certainly progress, it was infuriating to have the recollection dangling just barely out of your reach. You stared at the brilliant cyan gem for another moment before deciding that you weren’t going to remember based on willpower alone, securing the clasp around your neck. If that were the case, then you would have your memory back already, you were sure. You left the room with your shoes in hand, sock-clad feet padding quietly against the shiny hardwood floors while a sour taste dwelled on the back of your tongue.

Yet somehow, the second your eyes met Shouto’s, the feeling of self-loathing was instantly quelled, replaced with a pleasant wave of some feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes had locked onto the stone around your neck right as you walked into the kitchen, and immediately a smile graced his lips as he found your gaze.

You couldn’t help but return one, your eyes flickering to the floor before returning to him, overwhelmed with the tingles that zipped through you. He hadn’t really given you the chance to take in the outfit he had chosen before he left you to dress, and you found yourself appreciating the soft, cream sweater that fell just over his denim-clad hips.

“Wow, you look…” his eyes trailed down your form and then back up, his smile just as full. He let out a soft laugh, head tilting back before his attention returned to you, as if he didn’t quite believe the sight in front of him. “Beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

You already knew you looked good, but still, hearing the compliment roll off his tongue made your stomach leap up beside your heart. “Thank you, Sho. You look beautiful, too,” you teased, trying to downplay the effect his words had on you.

Even though his cheeks dusted with a light pink, his expression remained unchanged, gaze dropping to the pendant resting in the middle of your chest again. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue.

Just as you were about to tell him about the feeling you’d gotten earlier, he turned and grabbed some things from the counter behind him, whisking them into his arms. There was a curious look you shot him as you examined the numerous hats he offered to you, one of your brows rising at the variety.

Shouto didn’t give you the chance to ask, launching into explanation without your prompt. “You and I are technically celebrities. So it’s best if we conceal our faces while we’re out in public.” His gaze dropped to the brim of the gray suede boater in his hand, his thumb trailing across the soft material. “I don’t want you ambushed today. The public has missed you while you’ve been out of commission, so if we’re spotted, I’ll have to share you… and I don’t think either of us is ready for that quite yet.”

You nodded, ignoring the giddiness that bloomed in the depths of your stomach at his choice of words. Reaching for a floppy hat, your fingers brushed over his sweater as you grabbed your choice of camouflage. The fit was snug around your head, the silky ribbon tied around the crown the perfect match to your shoes. Shouto put on his hat as well, making sure to tuck the white half of his hair up and out of sight, giving him a faux monochromatic appearance. He wordlessly handed you a pair of large sunglasses, which you slid onto your face without protest. He mirrored your action, choosing a dark pair of aviators that helped disguise his famous scar.

“How do I look?” You asked, doing a little spin for full emphasis. The movement put a little smile on Shouto’s face, his eyes roaming your figure leisurely before he offered a thumbs up.

“Enchanting as always, love,” he replied stoically, the suavity and candor of his response aiding to the warm, swirling feeling in your stomach. But his expression morphed into a playful smirk, eyes twinkling with mischief. “What about me?”

A laugh trickled out of you as he copied your twirl, his execution somehow more graceful than yours. His pink lips curled into a genuine smile at your giggle, ending his mock demonstration in a curtsey. This only caused you to swat at him in exaggeration, taking the first steps towards the door.

“Equally enchanting,” you replied, not a hint of a lie in your voice. Your conviction made Shouto stutter, his grin melting to a flustered purse of the lip. It was then that you took his hand decisively, chuckling as you placed a swift kiss to his cheek. “Ready to go.”

It took him a moment to buffer, but he quickly recovered, a warm flush coloring his cheeks as his fingers squeezed yours. The digits of his other hand curled around the small of your waist, guiding you through the door.

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

Your eyes widened as Shouto pulled the sleek car into the parking space, your surroundings somewhat familiar. When you had asked where he was taking you, he hadn’t revealed any clues, preferring to give a vague “someplace you’ll enjoy” before effectively killing the conversation. You probably should’ve expected it, but surprise overtook you as you turned the sidewalk corner and there stood the cat cafe the pair of you had passed on your way back from the hospital just yesterday.

When you turned to look at Shouto, his eyes were already inspecting your reaction, the excitement written obviously all over your face. He regarded you with a quiet, knowing smile as he opened the door for you, the bell tinkling overhead and the quiet mewls of kittens further inside distinctly ringing in your ears. Right as you stepped inside, a fluffy, smoosh-face cat curled around your ankles, brushing and sniffing at you in greeting. Shouto made a joke about the fluffy beast being the cutest host he’d ever seen, his smile only growing when you laughed in return.

Once you were seated, tucked in a comfy pair of chairs in the corner of the cafe, a waitress came over to take your orders. What took you by surprise was that Shouto ordered for you— the exact confection and drink you were eyeing when you peeked at the menu. He shot you a little smirk at the cuteness of your impressed expression, asking if you’d like to add anything and turning the staff person's attention to you. At your denial, they excused themself, leaving you alone with Shouto once more.

There was a palpable tension in the air between the two of you. Unbeknownst to you, the other cafe goers could practically see the sparks flying between you.

“So… do we come here a lot?” you inquired, taking a tentative sip of your ice water and training your eyes on the top button of his shirt. It was just too intense to stare him straight in the eye sometimes…

Shouto took a moment to reply, looking through his red and white bangs at you fondly, leaning back in his chair before shaking his head. “Truthfully, we’ve never been here before.” He gauged the surprise in your eyes, a little knowing smile resting on his plump lip before he continued. “You always wanted to try this place but we hadn’t gotten around to it… you even picked out the food you wanted in case we came. I hope your tastes remain unchanged? If I ordered something you don’t want, I’ll call the waiter over.”

It was then your turn to shake your head, a quick and decisive answer. “No, you got it right,” you reassured, hands wringing slowly underneath the table in your lap. “The only other thing I wanted to try was the drink you ordered, so it’s fine!”

“Have as much as you like,” he suavely suggested, his tone sounding more like a demand than an offer. Just as he focused his eyes on yours, he was interrupted by a fuzzy orange kitten jumping into his lap, settling into a tiny loaf across his thighs and staring up at him expectantly.

You and Shouto both buffered for a moment before you let out a laugh at the sight of such a tiny creature in your broad boyfriend’s embrace. Shouto began to chuckle too, giving the creature a little scratch under the chin. The kitten meowed happily in agreement, placing its head onto its paws and settling in for a nap. You let the comfortable silence last for a minute before you meandered back into conversation.

“So um, earlier, when we were getting ready to go out…,” your fingers absentmindedly wandered to the pendant resting in the middle of your collar bones. “I saw this necklace in my closet and I felt like it was… important? And then I thought I caught you looking at it earlier too maybe? Do you know if it has any significant meaning or anything?”

Shouto’s gaze remained on the cat in his lap for another moment before it flicked over to you, and once again, you were stunned by the amount of emotion in his mismatched eyes. “I gave it to you,” he answered, his free hand fiddling with the sunglasses that now hung in the middle of his shirt collar. “It was for our first anniversary.”

You didn't really know what to make of that, the newfound knowledge resonating through you as you tried to remember anything about that day at all.

“I chose that color because you said you loved it… the color of my eyes. Or— eye— I suppose,” he gestured to the piercing cerulean orb that rested on his hot side, standing out even more against the muddled skin of his scar.

Your head nodded as you processed his answer, your finger nudging at the handle of your cutlery absentmindedly. “You do have nice eyes,” you mumbled, your veins pumping with a warmth you'd come to recognize as his natural effect on you.

Shouto smiled at that, his gaze focused on the pendant gleaming in the sun’s gentle caress. You could feel the intensity of his eyes there in the center of your chest, the modest amount of exposed cleavage feeling hot under his inspection.

At his silence, you continued on, your flusteredness forcing your mouth to move without much reason. “And— you have great taste in jewelry too, I mean, this is really beautiful.”

“It suits you,” he replied instantly, as if such words required no thought whatsoever.

That just made your cheeks feel even hotter, and a surprised chuckle sounded past your lips, his compliment egging on the butterfly swarm in your belly. “Thank you… I’m glad you have enough rationale to avoid a cheesy heart with your name on it or something.”

Shouto’s eyes fleed yours at that, taking a tentative sip of his water. You watched his pink lips curl into a subtle, knowing smirk. He yelped when you kicked his ankle underneath the table, gaze returning to you. He regarded your inquisitorial expression for a moment before he shrugged, his cheeks tinged with the lightest of pinks. “I have actually given you something like that before…”

You bit your lip, now wanting to kick yourself for making fun of the sweet yet idiotic, classic boyfriend gift. Heart jewelry, of course…

“And you really liked it… maybe almost as much as me,” he finished, and you watched as his blush deepened a few shades.

The waiter chose that moment to deliver your drinks, the conversation halting awkwardly before they took their leave once again.

“I really liked it?” You parroted, perplexed. There was no way you would find such a cheesy gift endearing enough to actually enjoy it.

Shouto adjusted himself in his chair, clearing his throat awkwardly. His eyes once again couldn’t meet yours, his fingertips tapping on the edge of the table. “Yeah it— it’s an anklet… it um, has my initials on the charm…” he mumbled, suddenly shy. “You seem to enjoy wearing it when we… when I— when I take you.”

“Oh.”

Your face felt on fire, neither of you brave enough to look each other in the eye following his confession. There wasn’t much you knew about your sex life with Shouto— though you assumed it to be very much alive, and healthily so— but just by the way he phrased that, your thighs were clenching together at the image your brain so kindly painted you.

Shouto was a big, strong man… one who was very proportional, as you recalled from the incident that occurred this morning. The thought of him taking you made your insides squirm with interest, fluttering at the premise of being stretched around him. You took another sip of your drink before the food thankfully arrived, allowing the pair of you to drop the conversation.

⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆

After you finished eating, Shouto took you to the trader’s market around the corner. There were people crowding the streets and trickling through the crosswalks, even though it was a late morning on a Friday and most of the population should’ve been busying away at their jobs. The bustle of the city should’ve been overwhelming for you— Shouto kept you close to his side at all times, his gaze scrutinizing any looks that lasted too long toward your direction. And yet, you were having a blast, flittering about and exploring the vendors’ stands and the numerous trinket stalls that lined the busy square. His hand was always holding yours. Even when you got more invested in the items on display before you, his fingers would linger at your waist, making his relationship to you apparent to any bystanders.

Sunlight streamed down in between the tall buildings surrounding you, reflecting off the windows like mirrors and making you grateful for the shade of your hat. That made you extra thankful for the ghost of Shouto’s hand across your skin, welcoming the coolness exuding off of his right side. There was a light-hearted conversation between the pair of you, and many grannies waved you over to inspect their merchandise by calling out to the pair of lovebirds. The repeated label made Shouto puff up in pride, aiding him to stand tall and retain the advantage he had on you in terms of height.

Whenever your gaze lingered on something for a second too long, Shouto was instantly handing bills over to the merchants, insisting they take the change or at least tipping them appreciatively. By the time the two of you had visited every stall, numerous bags hung from his left arm, all precariously stacked so the fingers on his other hand could remain laced with yours.

He noticed your wary gaze on the bags, your expression giving your thoughts away immediately. “Don’t worry love,” he reassured, squeezing your fingers in his, “they’re no trouble at all.” At your attempt to grab a few and lessen the load, he pivoted and held them above your head. He frowned, keeping them out of reach as you continued your attempt, swatting at him gently.

“Just let me have one at least,” you pouted, your voice morphing into a little whine. That got him to grin, conceding and handing you the smallest, lightest bag of the bunch. He feigned ignorance when you shot him a playful glare in response, choosing now to steer you toward another topic instead.

“Would it ruin the date if we stopped by my office? I just need to drop off the folders I finished up last night, and the building is just a block over. It should only take a minute.”

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders. “Sure,” you agreed, allowing his fingers to slip back into yours. Having your hand in his felt natural to you, the warmth of his skin welcomed. “I want to see your agency, anyway!”

It was a short walk to his workplace, as promised. The building was one of the tallest in the surrounding area, with sleek windows paneling all sides and reflecting the orange light of the barely-setting sun. The security guards didn’t bother the pair of you, Shouto acknowledging them with a nod as he slipped off his disguise. The elevator opened and Shouto flashed his badge at the sensor, then pushed the button for one of the floors higher up in the building.

In no time at all, the doors opened again and he led you past the couple secretaries that were perched behind their desks. You could feel their eyes glued to your back, and you were sure that the second you were safely located behind the glass doors to the hallway, they’d launch into discussion. The thought slipped your mind as you came round the corner, Shouto guiding you through the nearest door and ushering you into a large sitting room. Two doors were situated on either side of the room, long glass walls dividing the quarters. One door led to Shouto’s office, as designated by the nearby nameplate. The other you were about to read just as it opened, and a familiar, sharp-toothed redhead bounded toward the pair of you.

Immediately you grinned, ripping your hand from Shouto’s as you launched yourself at the famed Red Riot, one of Japan’s finest heroes lifting you off your feet in an enthusiastic embrace. Your laughs echoed around the room, Kirishima’s chuckles following as he spun you around. Shouto watched silently, a small frown adorning his lip while your gleeful laughs met his ears. He hadn’t heard such a sound in what seemed like forever, and even though he was not the cause of it, he couldn’t help but relish in it.

After a moment, Kirishima put you down and pulled Shouto in for a quick half-hug, patting him on the shoulder as his eyes then returned to you. “Well look who it is,” he grinned, his pointy teeth on display, hands landing on his narrow hips. “It’s so good to see you up and about, Y/n.”

“It’s good to see you too, Kiri,” you mirrored his expression, taking in his appearance.

Shouto watched your eyes rove over him, a sour taste developing at the back of his tongue. You had recognized Kirishima immediately— fondly, even— when it had taken hard work and ample time for you to warm up to him. It had taken a week for you to call him by his usual nickname, and yet, you called Kirishima by his own instantly. He could feel himself turning green at the realization, his frown remaining as his eyes sharpened in scrutiny.

“Wow,” you exclaimed after you had fully appraised the hero, even taking in the scarlet costume that had been updated since the last time you’d seen him. “You look great! Five years has really done you well, hmm? You’re totally ripped. Last time I saw you I swear you were shorter!”

Kirishima laughed and toed at the ground bashfully— never one to handle compliments very well. “Ah, thanks Y/n… gotta stay in shape when your costume has you shirtless all day, right?”

Shouto couldn’t help the envy that rose up inside of him as he watched you chatter eagerly with his coworker… even though he knew you had no control of what memories you lost, it still stung to watch you engage with and compliment another man. Especially when he hadn’t received such easy affection from you in much too long.

“You look much better, too,” Kirishima continued, glancing at Shouto as he picked up on the temperature drop in the room. Somehow you didn’t seem to notice the frost gathering on Shouto’s wrist as a result of his displeasure. “Erm— last time I saw you was in the hospital when you were still in your coma. I was so relieved to hear you woke up! Then I figured it would be easier for you if you didn’t have any visitors, though… that’s what your f— um, Shouto said would be best, anyway.”

At the mention of his name, you glanced at the half-and-half man beside you, shooting him a thankful smile that had his heart fluttering and his jealousy waning. He cleared his throat and nodded, casting a forced smile at the other hero. “Yes, well… I have to step into my office quickly, would you entertain her for a moment?”

Kirishima opened his mouth to reply, but Shouto was already halfway through the door, leaving the pair of you slightly stunned. You could see him through the glass wall, eyes following him and wondering why his curt attitude left a bitter taste in your mouth.

“So um…” The redhead turned to look at you, prompting you to do the same. “You really lost all your memories of him?”

The question hit you like he had dunked you in ice cold water, and you stiffened up immediately. Kirishima panicked then, eyes growing wide and covering his mouth.

“I can’t believe I just blurted that out— I just… You guys are so in love, I can’t imagine you two not together,” he explained earnestly, his brow furrowed. His honesty made your stomach burst with butterflies, the premise of being loved by Shouto and being able to love him made you feel flustered as hell.

“We are together,” you clarified, and Kirishima nodded. “Just not as together as before, I guess? It’s just… he makes me feel so many things and I barely know him. But he knows me? Like, intimately. It feels like he knows me more than I know myself sometimes. I dunno, it’s just… complicated, Kiri.”

He smiled in understanding, eyes sympathetic as you spilled your troubles to him. It was nice talking to someone who wasn’t Shouto— as much as you liked him, talking to him was difficult because he made you fumble with your words. You said things you didn’t mean to say when you were with him. Kirishima continued, “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you guys are crazy in love. Like, you’re the couple I aspire to be in some day.”

You grabbed his hand and grinned at that, his sincerity making your heart melt. “Awe, Kiri… It’s good to see you haven’t changed from how I remember you. You’re still the sweetest.”

Kirishima laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just be yourself with him… I think it’ll put you both at ease. You’re really good for each other— he was devastated the whole time you were asleep.”

The admission made a lump appear in your throat, your eyes feeling glassy all the sudden.

“He hasn’t acted this frigid since his high school days… Long before he met you. I think you make him feel relaxed. I mean, that’s how he always looks when he’s with you, or thinking about you. I can tell when we’re on patrol and he’s daydreaming about you, ‘cus he’ll just walk right into a lamp pole.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image, cursing the timing when the door opened and Shouto stepped out, his eyes landing on you and then hardening as they moved to Kirishima. He stepped toward him, but you intercepted him and laced your arms around his middle instead, stopping him with your embrace.

Shouto faltered at the sudden display of affection, his cheeks growing hot as he locked gazes with Kirishima, his eyes then dropping to the top of your head as you hid your face in his chest. He was frozen mid-breath, completely still as you held him. His cool, clean scent swallowed you as you kept your head nuzzled into his front, his fingers limp as your hand found his.

With a small step back, you ceased your embrace, your fingers squeezing his tightly as your eyes captured his and you gave him a shy smile. His cheeks only darkened, the grimace that had occupied his face long gone and instead replaced with an awed blankness. His lips parted and moved pointlessly, as if he wanted to say something but no sound escaped him.

“It was nice catching up Kiri,” you said, eyes still locked with Shouto’s heterochromatic ones before you turned to the red hero, who was awkwardly looking to the side as he shuffled his weight between his feet.

Kirishima looked at you and laughed awkwardly once again. You began to exit with Shouto in tow behind you, the hero’s crimson gaze following the pair of you. “Ah, yeah, you too! Let’s meet up soon!”

Then the glass door closed, and you were once again in the vicinity of the secretaries' blatant gawking. You pointedly ignored them as you strode toward the elevator, with their soundlessly boss still trailing behind you. As you waited for the elevator to ascend to your floor, you caught Shouto looking at you funny in your peripheral vision. Yet when you turned to look at him, he only reached out and pulled you into his chest.

Caught by surprise, a meek noise slipped out of you before you collided with his pecs once again, his arms wrapping around you to secure you in place. He nuzzled into your hair and inhaled deeply, uncaring of the secretaries' stares.

Only when the elevator arrived did he pull away, to guide you inside and away from the prying eyes. When the doors were closed, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on the crest of your cheek, a wisp of his peppermint-laced breath cooling your skin just as heat rushed there from his lips.

“Let’s go home, love,” Shouto murmured against your skin, knuckles nudging yours before your fingers curled around his. You nodded, holding his arm with your free hand and coming to stand by his side as the elevator rushed toward the ground. A peaceful moment of silence fell upon you and Shouto, giving you time for contemplation.

Any sane woman would've taken one look at Kirishima and felt at least a pinch of interest twirl inside her stomach. He was caring and handsome as they come, and yet he did absolutely nothing for you. Somehow when you were confronted with his chiseled abs and warm gaze, you felt less than when Shouto even glanced at you. You concluded that your body was definitely in love with him… and your heart longed to be the same. But part of you still had questions that needed to be resolved before you could really give yourself to him… and little did he know, you would find the answers to said questions so soon.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

ahh i love this sho so much, he’s trying so hard... poor babie 🥺 next part i will be much kinder to him <3 if you enjoyed please be sure to reblog and or leave me a comment •ᴥ•

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

437 notes · View notes

djarinvibe · 2 years

Text

The Bridges We Cross (Javier Peña x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: I did not intend for this to become a chaptered fic but... here we are lmaooo. Also, this fic is purely self-indulgent im not even gonna lie. (EDIT 8/8/22: ON HIATUS)

Words: 6k

Summary: After a one night stand with your coworker Javier Peña, you discover that you’re carrying his kid.

Warnings: PREGNANT READER, SMUT (MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY), piv sex, public sex, minor violence canon to Narcos, connie might be a bit ooc.

Italics = flashback / Masterlist

The heat of Bogotá was starting to make you senile, even while sitting in the DEA office that’s loaded with fans to circulate the stale, hot air better. The papers filled with valuable information you’ve been staring at were beginning to strain your eyes, the small lettering from the typewriter swirling across the page.

Setting down the files in your grasp, your free hand rose up to your face, resting your head in your palm. Somedays, it felt like your job was impossible. No matter what you or your partners, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña did, Escobar always seemed to slink away just in the nick of time; even with the help of Carrillo and the search bloc.

It didn’t help that your mind was clouded by something else that happened just the night before. Something you never expected would happen since yours and Steve’s arrival to Colombia.

“Just… one of those days.” You murmured, giving the man a faux smile before sighing softly.

You scoffed, shaking your head while pulling up your pants, “Absolutely not. This was a ‘one and done’ type of situation.”

Since moving here and meeting him, you couldn’t deny that you’ve developed feelings over time, despite his reputation of sleeping around. Working long, late hours with him and Steve, you came to learn he isn’t as horrible as the gossips in the office seem to think he is.

But even with that knowledge, you couldn’t let yourself get hurt. Not by him. Not when you have to face each other at work almost every day.

“It’s only noon.” Steve smirked, raising the mug in his grasp to take a sip of the coffee.

Especially because Steve has been teasing the two of you about your evident chemistry for months now; both him and Connie whenever the four of you would get dinner or drinks.

And you certainly weren't going to let one of those men- Javier, to a lesser degree- get in your way.

---

“I have to confess something,” You drunkenly slurred, looking at the woman seated on the couch next to you. Connie’s eyes widened as a mischievous, eager-for-gossip grin covered her face.

The two of you had planned a girls night on one of your days off. Constantly working and being around testosterone all the time was frustrating, so any time spent with Connie was cherished.

“What?” She giggled, sipping the margarita in her grasp.

“I slept with Peña, like two weeks ago.” You murmured, watching the woman's face twist into all sorts of emotions, mainly shocked.

“Really?” She finally found the words to speak.

“We got drunk and it just kind of happened,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your own drink.

“Can I ask… How was it?” She giggled as she asked the question, a goofy grin crossing her face, cheeks evidently heating up.

His cock plunged back into you immediately, causing you to call out his name, nails digging into his arms which had moved down as his hands grasped your hips.

“Javi,” It was breathy and caused him to falter at how sexy his name sounded falling from your lips. He’s heard it a million times before, but not like this, not so needy and whiny.

“Cum for me, hermosa,” He grunted, feeling your pussy clench around his cock. The sensation caused his own orgasm to begin to rush up on him, prompting him to thrust faster.

“It was uh-” You paused, feeling your own face gaining heat at the memory, “Good. I'll tell you that.”

“I'm so happy that this happened.” Connie gushed, leaning forwards in excitement, “Steve and I have had a bet going on for months. He owes me five bucks.”

---

“Hey,” Javier’s low voice caught your attention, causing your stomach to drop. You’ve been avoiding him to the best of your abilities since that night seven weeks ago.

Not only because you slept together, but also because, just last night, you found out you were expecting.

“Do you really think it’s-” She began, walking until she stood in the living room, while also handing you the bag.