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#now with fake dating!
arealphrooblem · 1 year
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Mutually Assured Destruction Pt 2
THANK YOU SO MUCH to the huge response to this, I never expected that being so new to this circle of writers. I squealed at every like and reblog and comment.
Synopsis: Villain x Civilian. Civilian can sense other people's powers through auras but hides this ability. They are terrified of the most boring person at their office job, who hides the most powerful aura Civilian has ever felt.
Part 1 here. Tagging @heroes-villains-side-blog and @follow-me-into-the-fog
The taqueria was dimly lit with Formica tables and brightly colored murals of vaguely Mexican landscapes, which meant the tacos were obscenely good.
Civilian tried hard not to be grateful as they bit into their taco as delicately as they could, their fingers stained with the mess of the previous taco. Jonathan’s tacos, on the other hand, had remarkable structural integrity and did not break once.
“How are you doing that?” they blurted out.
Jonathan raised an eyebrow as he dotted away taco grease with his napkin. “Doing what?”
“Your tacos don’t fall apart. How?”
“Perhaps that’s my power.” He smirked.
Civilian rolled their eyes, trying not to let the spike in their heart rate show on their face. So caught up in the surrealness of a dinner date, they had almost forgotten just what a precarious position they were in.
In fact, despite the blatant coercion to be here, this did not rank as the worst date Civilian ever had. Not even in the top ten. Jonathan paid for dinner, fetched napkins and extra beer, and allowed Civilian the space to quietly freak out while he ate in contented silence.
“I’ve never had a taco shell that didn’t break in my entire life, so I almost believe you.”
He gives them that same calculating stare he did in the elevator. “You’re not curious about what I can do?”
“No.” (A lie).
“Really? Not even a little?”
“I think knowing would make it worse.” (The truth).
Just knowing his aura has garnered too much attention as it was.
He smirked. “Afraid if you knew, I’d never let you go?”
Hearing their deepest fear voiced aloud caused a dizzy swoop in their gut. It wasn’t just Jonathan Civilian had to worry about. If anyone knew their true power, they would be a target to the Agency, to other villains, to the government. They could kiss their freedom goodbye.
Being “courted” by Jonathan was the least of their worries, and yet it meant the the threat of their freedom as a constant presence. If there was a chance Civilian could talk their way out of this arrangement, they had to take it.
Civilian swallowed. “You’re not actually serious about this, right? This fake dating thing?”
“Of course I’m serious.” He leaned forward across the table and Civilian unconsciously mirrored him. “I have certain plans in place. You are the one person who could disrupt them.”
“The last thing I want is to get involved with whatever the hell it is you’re doing,” Civilian hissed. “I’m not a hero.”
“There’s no way I can know right now that with any certainty. And so, until I do, you will have a very dedicated and considerate partner.”
Civilian bit back a groan as they imagined the kind of gossip this sudden relationship would inspire, especially since Civilian tried so hard to avoid Jonathan before. Wait a second . . .
“HR doesn’t allow workplace relationships,” they said triumphantly. “They would fire us.”
The corner of his mouth twitched, as if he found Civilian’s protests amusing. “That rule only bans relationships between superiors and the people that work under them. It doesn’t apply to us. Don’t worry, I will file our relationship with HR tomorrow morning since tonight marks our first date.”
Shit damn fuck. Civilian could protest the relationship or they could report Jonathan to HR for stalking or harassment but that only puts a target on Civilian’s back for his retaliation. He could kill them or worse -- report them.
Mutually assured destruction.
Jonathan drains the rest of his beer before nodding to Civilian’s unfinished food.
“Let me get you a to-go box and we shall be on our way, then?”
He drove them back to the parking garage at work and walked Civilian to their car. Civilian wasted no time getting their keys out, gripped by the sudden fear that perhaps Jonathan would reconsider letting them walk free.
And indeed when his hand darted out and gripped their door before it could shut, Civilian’s heart leaped in their throat.
“You’re going to leave before our goodnight kiss?” he asked, his gaze expectant and serious.
“What?” Civilian choked.
He held that stare for a moment before an evil smirk broke across his face.
“The look on your face. I should be insulted at how abhorrent the thought is to you. Goodnight, Civilian. I will see you in the morning.”
A threat and a promise.
Civilian feels the weight of his stare all the way out to the streets.
Part Three Here
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Part 4 and End of Alastor's bad day Alastor survived his fake date and will probably (not) think twice in the future before trying to one-up Lucifer on unknown projects. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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shitouttabuck · 1 month
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don’t wanna let you love somebody else but me
buck/eddie | 14.7k | rated t
“Well, we’re doing a fancy dinner and mini golf and karaoke,” Buck says, “and those are kinda date activities anyway, right?” “Right,” Eddie says slowly. “Except it’s Chim’s bachelor party, so we can hardly bring dates along, even if we could find them. That’d be weird.” “Well,” Buck says, “I was thinking… what if we were each other’s dates?” Eddie’s brain bluescreens for a moment. Buck must take his total lack of reaction for disagreement, because he hurriedly says, “Like, a pretend date. That way we could test out our, like you said, moves on each other. And then be totally truthful about whether they worked or not. So we get honest feedback and we don’t have to worry about finding someone to try them out on and we can still make it to Chim’s party. And then give Chris some advice before Sunday. Right? Does that make sense?”
or, chris wants dating advice and it turns out taking your best friend on a pretend date to practice being as romantic as possible is not a good idea in theory or in practice, considering the pesky being-in-unrequited-love of it all
read on ao3
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miabrown007 · 5 months
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the summer after finishing university in New York, Marinette gets invited to a camping trip with Alya and Nino and his best friend. which, honestly, is for the best. at least she has more time than the four years she's already had to figure out how to reach out to her one-time superhero partner, with whom she fell out of touch after the reveal.
only, it's Adrien Agreste waiting for them on the meeting point, beaming so hard at her that it's blatantly obvious they know each other well. in her panic, what is Marinette supposed to tell Alya and Nino to protect their identites, if not that they used to date?
(fake exes AU x there was only one tent)
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aardvaark · 10 days
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i was thinking about how i wished leverage had a birthday episode for some of the characters cause that would be sweet, but then i realised something and basically…. okay here’s my thoughts in quotes form, just for fun
hardison: so when’s your birthday? i could plan something for us and the team to do and-
parker: i dont know
hardison: you don’t know… your own birthday?
parker: no, how would i know? pshh, cmon, you’re telling me you remember EXACTLY when you were born? watch this - hey, eliot, do you know your exact birth date?
eliot, innocently passing by, who was canonically anonymously dropped off at a hospital as an infant: no, how would i know?
parker: that’s what i said!
hardison: excuse me?? what is going on right now
sophie, walking into the apartment: whats wrong?
hardison: parker and eliot- well, okay, when’s your birthday? i just have to prove something.
sophie: …….july 12th
hardison: why did you pause? wait, is that your birthday or sophie devereaux’s birthday?
sophie: ………… (guilty silence)
parker: see, no one knows their real birthday! haha you’re so weird sometimes, hardison
hardison:
hardison: what the fuck guys
#leverageposting#wren speaks#leverage#parker leverage#alec hardison#nate knows his birthday i guess so i didn’t include him. if he was watching the whole time he would probably say ‘idk’ to mess w hardison#they’re having this convo in nate’s apartment but it’s like 3am & he’s asleep & they’ve all broken in to hang out#parker doesn’t know either bc of her ridiculously neglectful foster parents or bc she’s parker & her priorities are simply different to most#people. her birthday is irrelevant to thievery. and sadly probably not related to fun happy memories anyway.#sophie obviously is a good enough grifter to answer confidently but she feels a little bad abt lying to her family by now#meanwhile hardison had a normal foster nana who would have known his bday. most kids aren’t safe-surrendered like eliot so assumably#hardison would have a known bday. and he likes birthdays!#and he wants to throw parker a little party even if it’s a very unconventional parker bday that involves rappelling & jumping off buildings#but he is once again thwarted by the leverage team members having the strangest possible lives#he IS gonna give them each birthday parties tho. even if he has to make up some dates & stuff#sophie’s can be the fake date she gives if that’s what she rlly wants. nate’s real birthday is on file somewhere even if he’s being annoying#rn so hardison just has to do some basic hacking. eliot would have an approximate bday such as the day he was surrendered that his parents#would have celebrated throughout childhood. and parker’s would be april 1st bc that’s alice whites bday (and YOURE ALICE!!!)#as in it’s canonically in the online info abt alice white shown in the juror no.6 job & obvs that’s april fools so it’s funny :)#and hardison has a NORMAL bday unlike SOME ppl and yes he DOES expect presents you heathens!!
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snixx · 8 months
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shoutout to parent-ified eldest kids who never ever ever no matter what take out their pain or trauma or bitterness on their younger siblings (or alternatively actively teach themselves not to even if their relationship with their parents is absolutely broken and it hurts like hell to try because their sibling's isn't) and instead do everything to make sure they never have to go through the same thing or repress their feelings and always have a built-in best friend. and maybe develop a little bit of a mom complex along the way all while doing everything in their power not to become their parents. gotta be one of my favourite genders
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tartarusknight · 11 months
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Eddie Munson was pissed off. He was annoyed by the little sheep he brought into his group. It was just that after spring break... well, they didn't see him as an authority figure anymore. Which, fine, whatever. But they never listened to him, and suddenly, he was getting shit from them. Not mean shit or anything. It just wasn't... it wasn't what he was used to. They gave him shit and became basically family.
However, he didn't sign up for kids to just pop up all the time without warning and give him shit about what he does in his spare time. He used to be cool and mysterious. Now he gets shit that his van is a mess, and he likes to sleep in after staying up late painting mini figures. THEY'RE NERDS!!!! Yet he's the uncool older guy.
Sure, they don't make fun of him repeating school or his appearance. Nothing that hurts, but it's annoying. However, it's less annoying after he realizes that they started doing the same to Steve after they got to know him. And well, he knows they think Steve is cool. They just don't say it to his face. So he holds onto that. They probably won't ever say he's cool to his face anymore but he's not, not to them.
It's like he went from the cool older teen to older brother figure in one week. One near death experience. And well... he understands in some way. Doesn't mean he likes that they don't respect him anymore. He knows that it gets on Steve's nerves too. The kids would be over for movie night of just decided to have a sleep over at Steve's and Steve would just have to go with it.
So, Eddie did what could be considered stupid. He fought back. Sure, he liked being around them and hanging out with them. But some boundaries needed to be returned. He'd like warnings or heads up. So he started small. He started to invite an old friend of his around. Veronica. She and him have been friends for years, but when she came out to her parents as trans, she moved away. Well, she ran away.
Her parents moved not long after, the "shame" of having a daughter now instead of the son they so desperately tried to hold onto. The son that never truly was alive until he wasn't a he anymore.
So, Veronica did stop in Hawkins every once in a while since her parents left. After all, her and Eddie, they had been close. She was his first friend in Hawkins, and he was the first person she came out to. It didn't help that they both had crushes on each other. But Eddie and Veronica grew past the old crushes, and sometimes, when they met up, they'd hook up, but only when they wanted a sweet release. Nothing romantic. All that was gone.
So, Eddie asked Veronica for a favor as she was passing through, stopping to visit everyone. He always invited her to stay at the trailer for the few days, and this time, he did have an alterior motive. And well... Veronica thought it was pathetic of him but also hilarious, so she was in. Because Eddie decided that if the kids were going to be assholes he was going to scar them for life. In the way that was ~sex~
The first night she's there, they spend catching up as usual. But Eddie's not really up for anything more than that. His big gay heart stolen by the goddamn babysitter. So when they head to bed, curled up on Eddie's full sized mattress, they just sleep.
However, that doesn't mean when his trailer door is swung open that next morning with Dustin, Mike, and Max all barging in, that that's all they see. No, the minute the kids open his door, Dustin shrieks, and Mike yells an incredibly loud and disgusted "ew."
Veronica pops her head up, and her eyes narrow. "Teddy, your kids are here," She groands before flopping back down. However, she pauses and looks back at them. "Wait, aren't you Harrington's kids?" She questioned, and Eddie tossed the blanket over her head.
He can feel his cheeks warming and grunts, "for your modesty." It makes Veronica laugh, and he knows that she's going to quickly figure out his big fat crush.
But before he can dwell on it the boys are running out and Max is just standing there with her arms crossed. He raises an eyebrow at her and she huffs. "I can't believe you. Honestly," she spits and actually sounds mad. Like fully pissed off.
"Max?" He questioned but she's fleeing too. The kids gone, like he had hoped but Max... that felt wrong. Like he actually did something wrong. Which... what even could it be. He's not doing anythign wrong.
However, then Veronica's teasing him and he snaps out of it. He's got her for two more days and he'll take them. After she's gone, he'll figure out what went wrong. So, they get dressed before they drive over to Gareth's too meet up with everyone. Maybe it's there in the back of his head the whole time. But he tries not to think too hard about it.
It's just that, the next day happens and when Eddie goes out for a smoke in the morning Max stomps up to him. Rightous fiery and looking ready to actually kill him. "She's still here." She snaps and Eddie raises an eyebrow.
He slowly blows out the smoke, "yeah, Red. She is. Who pissed in your cheerios?" He asked and she had the gull to roll her eyes at him. Like he was a moron for not understanding.
She shoved her finger into his chest. "I wasn't bothering you and him about okay. I was staying out of the way but- but Eddie what you're doing is wrong. He- he's already been cheated on. It shouldn't happen again." She snapped before marching off. Leaving Eddie shocked. He only snaps out of it when his finger burns from his cigarette.
He heads back inside, and Veronica's chilling on his couch and painting her nails. "We should get a good movie to watch. I need some of Teddy Munson's comentary." She says, and he gives her a grin that's not all happy. But she's not focused on him at the moment. Her eyes elsewhere.
Instead, he shakes the words from his shoulders and gets out a small laugh. "You haven't heard commentary until you've watched a movie with Robin Buckley." He assures her. And then the plan is set into action.
He messed around until she finished painting her nails, and then they were off to Family Video. Max's words got louder and louder as they got to the building. But it didn't make sense. He wasn't cheating on anyone. Even if Max thought otherwise.
"Eddie!" Steve grinned, and Robin poked her head around a shelf. They both had big smiles on their faces. Although they dimmed slightly at the sight of Veronica.
Eddie sauntered up to the desk where Steve had been previously flicking through a magazine. "Busy at work, Stevie?" He questioned and Steve rolled his eyes. Before his eyes once again strayed to Veronic.
Eddie straightened, "Oh, this is Veronica. She and I have been friends since ever." He waved his hand, and Veronica moved over. She was slightly taller than him in her tall boots, and she grinned at Steve.
Steve nodded slowly, "I did - uh- nice to meet you. I'm Steve," he held out his hand, and Veronica took it slowly. She gave him a once over, probably seeing the matching scars over their throats.
She shrugged, "I know who you are." Is all she says before she looks at Eddie. Her face reads we have to talk about that, with a look to his throat. And well... she saw most of the other scars already. After all, he didn't care if she looked at him when he changed. She knocked on the counter, "Any who. I'm going to go find a movie, Teds. Oh, you guys should join us. Teddy said you had the best comentary, Robin." She grinned before slipping back into the shelves.
Eddie watched her for a moment before sighing and looking back at Steve. Steve who looked like someone just was told that their dog was hit by a car. "Whoa, Steve, what's wrong? Hey, are you alright?" He questions and Steve seems to shift and refocus instantly.
He nods, a fake smile covering the emotions swirling. Max's words ring in his head. "All good, man. Just sad I can't today. Busy," he says, and Eddie's sure it's a lie.
Eddie looks over at Veronica who's asking Robin for recommendations. Likely trying to give Eddie some one-on-one time with Steve. "You know, Max said the weirdest thing to me this morning. She and the other gremlins barged in and saw me and Veronica sleeping together- in the same bed. We were passed out in the same bed. Not actually- well we were just literally sleeping together. But not like, you know. Sleeping together. Fucking. Making love. Snoodiling. Whatever you want to call it."
And suddenly Eddie couldn't stop talking. "She came up to me and started telling me how unfair it was of me. That cheating was wrong and all that shit. But I couldn't figure it out. Because I haven't dated anyone in ages. Like- a really fucking long time. But she told me how he had already been cheated on and it wasn't fair of me. But once again I was confused. Until Veronica mentioned coming here. And right now. Right now you look like I just killed your dog in front of you. All by bringing my friend in with me."
Steve was blinking at him, looking shocked. And Eddie gave him a tight smile. "I've slept with Veronica before. On and off for a few years now. She was my first crush, and I know that it might be weird, but honestly, it's nice to have someone to just let out steam with every once in a while. But when she stopped by, I told her I couldn't. Sometimes, that happens. The last time she was in town, she was head over heals for some girl in her history lecture. This time, I was totally gone for this guy I've been hanging out with recently."
And now Eddie can't even look at him. "I thought it was impossible. Like obviously you couldn't like me back. Even when you told me your bisexual. That didn't mean shit. Just because you like guys doesn't mean you like me. But with Max and now just seeing your face. I couldn't- I mean I just had to say-"
Steve looks around the store before pulling him into a kiss. Eddie's stunned for a moment before he grabs Steve's face, and it's awkward over the counter, but he doesn't care. He's kissing Steve and it's perfect.
He hears whooping and breaks away to see Veronica leaning on the top of the shelves with Robin leaning back on the same one. Both of them with proud smiles on their faces.
And yeah, maybe this was for the kids and their annoying habit of just breaking into his trailer. But getting Steve was also good. And well... if the kids get annoyed, he can just really gross them out by making out with their babysitter in front of them. Yeah, that will work, too.
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lazuliquetzal · 4 months
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I keep on telling people you're the only one who knows how to plot. Can you teach all of us how to plot, please? I love you.
I AM SUMMONED? PLOT BRAIN SUMMONED?
I love plotting. It's my favorite part of the writing process. Plot is "things that happen" and the best part of writing is imagining things that happen. I'm going to assume that whoever may be reading this knows how to imagine The Happenings, so I'm gonna be talking more about structure, but in like, a kinda abstract sense.
A good plot is a little bit more than a string of events. Plot is like music: there's variation in rhythm and sound and melody, but ultimately there's cohesion, because it's all one song. You can have a bunch of wild things happening, but no matter how strange, there should be something that links them all together, because you're telling one story.
Plot structures are patterns in stories. I'm pretty sure most of them were developed as analysis tools (as in, story already exists > look! it follows this pattern) rather than as writing tools, but people use them as writing tools because it's a neat little way to organize the chaos that is "shit happens." Stories follow patterns for the same reasons music follows patterns: we enjoy the certainty of hitting certain beats. But we also like being surprised. A good pop song doesn't sound like a random collection of sounds, but it also doesn't sound like the middle slider of other songs.
There is this shared concept in both music and writing: the idea of tension and release. Basically, you're playing with reader expectation: there's an imbalance in the experience (tension), and we want to see that imbalance resolved (release). All the common plot structures deal with this basic pattern:
You set an expectation
There are complications to the expectation
You meet the expectation
And this rhythm is happening on multiple levels in writing. Scenes follow this structure (we're gonna get past that door, we're gonna find the murder weapon, we're gonna collaborate and come up with a plan) and all those scenes feed into the overarching expectation (we're gonna solve this murder!). I usually think of chapters as their own mini-story, part of the larger whole. And I think of scenes as their own mini-story, part of the larger chapter. I have engineer brain. I see the gears spinning in the clock. That's why all my chapters have at least One Important Thing happening, because that's that particular chapter's Step #3.
And One Last Important Thing:
In music, a delayed resolution is almost always more interesting than the standard resolution. In writing, that means you wanna drag out Step #2 for as long as you can. That's where the bulk of the story is happening, that's how you build tension, that's how you get people to turn the page.
So when you write a fake dating fic, those bitches better not get together until the very end. I came here for fake dating, not for real dating, damn it. If you resolve that expectation early on, you better replace it with a different expectation that's just as engaging.
But also don't drag it out for too long. Sorry. The hard part of writing is learning the difference between too short and too long. Writing is unfortunately a nuanced skill which is why my advice is like "do this but not too much teehee." But tension and resolution is just rhythm, you can build a sense for it if you engage with enough stories.
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wardenparker · 10 months
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If You Were Mine, pt 2
Javier Peña x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12.5k   Warnings: Food/alcohol, references to smoking. The love is requited they’re just idiots, there’s only one bed, dake dating, wedding date, Javier Peña dances like he fucks and I will not be taking criticism, Bad Timing Tía, dealing with the ex, fingering, hand job, unprotected sex, vaginal sex.  Summary: The day of Danny’s wedding goes much, much different than either you or Javi expects it to -- and so do your meetings in Washington. Notes: Find part 1 HERE! Also this gif has me hypnotized so if you need me I’ll be right here staring at my laptop screen for the rest of time...
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Danny's wedding is two days later, and that Sunday morning when you get up and get dressed for church, it's getting dressed for the wedding as well. Barely able to look Javi in the eye since hearing his confession on Friday night, you're quiet in the truck on the way to downtown Laredo. Javi looks far more handsome than a man in a plaid shirt and jeans ever should, and your black dress might be a tad too dressy but you pair it with flat shoes and don't overdo anything else so you won't end up looking too out of place. You've already made up your mind to be there for him today and to not give anyone any reason to question the two of you — you just want one more day of things being good between you before you have to head to Washington.
Sitting in the truck beside you is pure torture. Rubbing his hands on his jeans as he wonders why you have just…avoided him. He hates that things have changed, but he doesn’t know how to bridge the gap.
When the church comes into view Chucho shuts off the radio like the priest is going to come out and chastise him for listening to rock music, but you just sit back and tap your fingers on the strap of your purse. "Remind me," you murmur, leaning over to Javier as Chucho parks the truck. "Danny is your mother's younger sister's only boy, right?"
“Yeah.” Javi nearly startles, hearing the first words you’ve said to him in two days. “I was a teen when he was born.” He turns his head but you are looking down at your purse.
"Okay. Just wanted to make sure I had it right." Your hand moves from kneading your purse to gently squeezing his before Chucho looks over at you both and declares it time for wedding bells with a sly wink.
“Pop.” Javi groans, rolling his eyes at how unsubtle his father is being. Lord knows there will be plenty of jokes made around him today, but hinting that you could be married to him soon hurts.
"It's okay, cariño." Your hand on his squeezes again and you smile as you shrug your shoulders. "I don't mind a little teasing. It's a happy day." Without any further comment, you slide out the driver's side door and accept Chucho's hand to climb out carefully, leaving Javi bewildered in the truck.
The bittersweet sound of an endearment makes Javi sigh, climbing out to the truck slowly. “It’s okay.” He murmurs as his father walks ahead. “I’m just going to tell everyone.”
"No." Standing in front of him blocks his way, and you put your hand firmly on his arm. "You're not, Jav." This is what you spent all of yesterday deciding, and the very firm conclusion you came to might embarrass him, but it's a gesture. A glimpse, if he wants it. "You wanted to pretend. To see what it would be like if you were mine and I was yours? Then that's what today is going to be. I won't be inappropriate or anything, but...what's stopping us from just enjoying today?"
His jaw unhinges and immediately heat blasts over his face like he’s been tossed on an oven. Or he’s finally died and been sent to hell. “You— you heard me?” He rasps out, mortified that you had heard him pouring his heart out like a fucking idiot.
"We were in no condition to talk about any of this with how upset we both were that night." Maybe you should have told him yesterday, but it's too late for that now. Either way, you take both of his hands in yours and offer him a smile. "If you truly don't want to see what we could be, then you're at least going to get your wish to pretend."
He closes his eyes, wincing at the way it sounds when you voice it out loud. “Muñeca…” he murmurs helplessly.
"Javi, it's—" You could say that it's okay, but it's not really. It breaks your heart to think that he isn't willing to try, but you know he's been through unimaginable things. Things he will probably never speak about because they're too painful to ever remember that viscerally. "I won't kiss you or anything. I'm not going to force this on you. But at the very least it's Danny's day. We can smile and dance together and chat with your family and not cause a fuss on somebody else's big day." And if you hang on to this feeling for yourself on the cold or the lonely days, that's between you and the universe.
“I—okay.” He nods, opening his eyes and tries not to look like he’s attending a funeral. You know, you know everything he said and he hates that. Hates that you agree with him, knowing that he’s right and it’s the best damn thing for you.
"Okay?" Waiting until he nods again, you slip to his side and slide your hand into his to lace your fingers together. If nothing else, you can walk into the church together.
Your hand is warm, soft in his and he can’t help but squeeze it gently. “You look beautiful, muñeca.” He murmurs quietly. “But you always do.”
"When I bought this dress I got it because I thought you would like it," you admit, turning to smile at him as you walk up the steps together. "I'm glad I actually got to wear it for you."
“Couldn’t take my eyes off you.” Javi admits, remembering the op you had worn it on. “It’s why Ruiz got punched in the fucking mouth.”
You snort — barely covering your mouth in time to muffle the sound at the door of the church. "Seriously?" That split lip had been pretty nasty if you remember it correctly, now you're finally finding out how he got it, it's even better.
“Yeah.” Javi huffs, flexing his hand in yours. His fist had hurt like a motherfucker for three days, but it had been worth it.
"Javi the Big Bad Protector is kind of a turn on, not gonna lie." You murmur, quickly changing gears to smile politely to the ushers welcoming everyone into the wedding.
“He was being an asshole.” Javi grumbles. “Someone had to shut him up.”
"Mi guerrero." It's barely even a tease. Javi is absolutely a warrior, and his battles are more varied than anyone would know.
He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t pull away. Guiding you down to the bench where you will sit through the ceremony. “Shut up.” He murmurs, letting go of your hand and touching your back very close to your ass as you start to slide into the bench.
"Yes, Daddy." You tease on a whisper that only he can hear, knowing that he'll hate it but that your tone and the smirk on your face will make him laugh.
He nearly chokes on his own damn spit when he hears you call him ‘daddy’. Grunting as he swears that if God strikes you down, you will deserve it. “Brat.”
"Ooo, don't tell me you like that?" There's a delighted gasp on your lips that turns into a giggle under your breath as he sits down next to you. "I had anticipated the complete opposite reaction."
“Shut up.” Javi glares at you. “I— I don’t like it.” He hisses quietly, even though that’s a bold faced lie. He’s never been called that before and he doesn’t know if he likes it or just like you saying it.
"Okay," you snicker quietly, glancing at him again and nearly erupting into more giggles. "Daddy."
“I swear to God.” He huffs, rolling his eyes.
"Nuh-uh." Wagging one finger at him, you cross your legs and point up at the altar at the front of the church. "Be nice. We're in His house."
“You’re the one calling people ‘daddy’.” He reminds you.
"Not people." The deep frown on his face is a mask for his amusement, and you shift closer to him in the pew with an unapologetic grin. "Just you."
“You’re annoying.” He hisses quietly. “And God is going to strike you down.” He’s joking, trying to hide how much he’s enjoying the banter.
"Maybe." You shrug, knowing you've done a whole lot of shit in your life that God should have already stricken you down for. "It would be a very interesting story."
He rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, throwing his arm on the pew behind you to wrap around your shoulder.
A few people who enter stop to say hello, telling Javier that they're glad to see him and they'll catch up with him at the reception, and a few others wave their greeting, but soon enough the assembled friends and family are on their feet again for the arrival of the bridal party and the wedding is under way.
Weddings are always a sensitive subject, especially with family. It never fails that people will recount how Javi just never showed up. Right now, he’s not concentrating on that. He’s tuned into the pressure of your thigh against his, the causal way you lean into his side with his arm still around you, your hands softly laying on his thigh like you are the couple you are pretending to be.
At one point your head tips, leaning slightly on his shoulder while you listen to the old priest pontificate on the duties of the couple to each other and to God, and even though you won’t let yourself go so far as to imagine marrying him it’s still nice to be a little bored with someone you care about. It’s homey. Domestic. And it makes you smile as you continue to sit there and hold his hand.
He doesn’t know when he had linked his fingers on his other hand with yours, but his arm is stretched out across his body while her other hand is curled around you. Almost protective as he curls around you on the bench and watches as Danny straightens proudly.
You might say it is, but this pretending isn’t just for him. Sure, your not-so-subtle ulterior motive might be to show him what he’s missing, but it’s also so that when you do have to move on - from the DEA and from him - you have these memories locked up to think back on on a rainy day. Maybe it isn’t really that good of an idea, but it’s the one you’ve got. And as the ceremony drones on and you curl into each other more and more, you can’t help but think how right it feels.
When Danny is repeating his vows, Javi leans his head against yours and sighs softly. He’s had one instance where he imagined marrying someone and he couldn’t do it. Until right now.
Squeezing his fingers gently in yours, you can’t quite make yourself look at him during these moments. Promising yourself that you wouldn’t go so far as to imagine you and him up at that altar isn’t much of a promise at all when your mind starts to wander.
Sighing softly, Javi hums when the entire church laughs, a response to the happy couple giggling as Danny lunges forward to kiss his bride before her own vows are said.
“So sweet,” you whisper without realizing it, sounding more than a little misty right next to his ear.
“They are.” Javi turns his head and his nose brushes against your temple where you have lifted your head up slightly.
“They really are.” The moment of tension hangs between you like thick jungle air, tugging on you with determination, but you don’t close the space between you no matter how much you want to. Kissing him is a torture you won’t put yourself through when you know it’s only make believe.
When the vows are finally done and the kiss starts, he hates having to pull away. Standing and clapping with the rest of the church as they turn around with nothing but hope and love in their eyes.
The church’s rec hall is ready and waiting for the influx of guests with bright decorations, cold drinks, and lively music. Chucho has been swept up in the celebratory mood by friends while you and Javi stroll behind at a leisurely pace. Your hand is still in his when you walk in, and right away people are calling it to him and coming over to say hello.
“Javier!” Danny’s mother, his tía, rushes over and smothers him in a hug, as if she didn’t run into him at the hardware store nearly a week ago. Apparently, even though Chucho had told her that he was coming, she hadn’t believed it until now.
She is beaming through happy tears, pulling Javi into her arms and regarding him with the same love that any mother would. "We're glad you could come, changuito."
Javi nods seriously and doesn’t pull away. “Of course, tía.” He murmurs quietly. “I can’t believe Danny is married.”
"He should still be in diapers," his aunt laughs happily, wiping a tear before it can hit her cheek and offering you a smile when she turns her head slightly. "But I hear you're next, eh? This is her?"
He can’t answer that, just nodding as he reaches back for you. Saying your name as he introduces you to his aunt. “This is Gloria, my tía. She is my mother’s sister.”
"I'm so glad to meet you." The hug you offer her is genuine, and the woman is smiling so broadly that she just might break apart if it gets any wider. "You must be so proud."
“Rosa looks so beautiful doesn’t she?” Gloria puffs up proudly as she turns towards the small crowd around the bride and groom. “So good for my Danny.” She hums as she eyes you and Javi. “Like you are for Javier.”
"I try to be." And that is, despite the slight ruse of the day, the honest truth. You have always tried to be there for Javi and be a good partner as well as a good friend. Sometimes bullshit would happen like your stupid moments of jealousy, but it never stopped you from caring about him with your whole heart.
“You are the first woman Javier has brought home.” She informs you proudly. “Lorraine was already here but we knew she wasn’t the one for our boy.”
“Sometimes it takes a few tries to get something right,” you offer, squeezing Javi’s hand gently. “But that’s life, right?”
Javi sighs and rolls his eyes. “I was gone.” He reminds his aunt, knowing this conversation would be repeated a hundred times before the end of the reception.
“And now you’re home.” She aims a wink at him that has you smirking before patting his shoulder. “You kids go get something to drink. I have to make the rounds.”
He huffs in amusement as she hustles away. “Kids.” He shakes his head. She will always view him as a kid despite being closer to forty than twenty.
“You’ll always be a kid to your family.” But the prospect of a drink does sound good, and you nod toward the table laden with bottles and surrounded by coolers. “Shall we?”
“Fuck yes.” Javi groans. The reception might be in the church reception hall, but there is no lack of beer and tequila for the guests. “Please.”
Your peel of laughter makes a few heads turn but you just ignore them, walking with him to the other end of the room and pulling out two bottles of cold beer. The whole thing is cozy and welcoming and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset about your decision to play pretend on a day as phenomenal as today.
As soon as everyone is in the room, the music starts. A mix of speakers and live instruments fill the hall and immediately the tías, abuelas and other women crowd into the kitchen to start bringing out platters of food. Javi knows about ten of the distant cousins had been drinking and cooking the meats out back on their grills during the ceremony so that it would be hot.
Plenty of people come by to make their observations or to unsubtly check you out, but you just smile and greet each of them in turn, keeping close to Javi and sipping your beer. Everyone is nice, despite the few Nosy Nellies, and you’re mostly content to sit and chat until the music makes your ears perk up. I Wanna Dance with Somebody is one of your all time favorite songs. “C’mon,” you insist with a grin, grabbing Javi’s hand. “No one can sit down when Whitney sings. It’s impossible.”
“I don’t–” Javi grunts, wanting to protest but you are pulling him up out of his chair before he can get too far into his grumbling. He sets his bottle down as he groans as he stands up straight.
“I know you can dance.” You remind him, having been to enough clubs together over your months as partners to have seen it a few times. On the rare occasion Javi isn’t working, he moves on a dance floor about as well as you assume he fucks — which is to say extremely well.
“Just because I can doesn’t mean I should.” He grunts, dutifully following you and he wonders if this is going to bite him in the ass.
It’s an energetic song, one that doesn’t leave you lingering in each other’s arms too much, so you thought it would be safe. Rocking back and forth with him, spinning around – all of that should have been perfectly fine. You just forgot, in a moment of madness, how much you like having his hands on you.
The beat is one that it is easy to move to. The other couples jostling about on the floor makes for him to move closer, pull you into his arms as you both move. Confining you together for the song as Whitney croons about dancing with someone who loves her.
It shouldn’t have been seductive in any way. It’s a light, joyful song. But the crush of every other guest who had the same impulse as you means one of Javi’s arms is wrapped tight around your waist as you move together, and the rhythm you’ve found is a much more silky smooth than you anticipated.
You are pressed against him, nearly grinding against him in a way that makes his breath catch. His fingers dig into your hips and he pants in your ear, not from the vigorous beat, but from trying to control his cock.
It’s the sound that makes your eyes tick up to his. His head is right beside yours and that proximity is a challenge all on its own, but it’s his breath that makes you find his eyes. It’s worry, or else it’s an attempt to check in with him, but what you see is that his deep brown eyes have turned almost black and his cheeks have pinked to the point of blush.
"Muñeca..." He grunts quietly, watching your eyes as they shift back and forth between his own and your damn gaze drops down to his lips. Making him lick them by force of habit.
It’s a bad idea. Truly. Probably a horrible idea. But your other hand has a mind of its own when it comes up to touch his cheek and ends up cupping his jaw in an unbelievably intimate gesture. “Javi…”
The soft plea in your voice breaks him. Smashes through every barrier he has attempted to erect to stay away. All it takes is a call of his name and a hand on his cheek and he is throwing away every vow he had made towards you. Lunging forward and capturing your lips with his and he molds you against him.
Blissfully unaware of all the tittering and the many watchful eyes, your whole reality has narrowed down to Javier as you cling to him. His kiss is as firm as his hold on you, promising luxuries and indulgence in the same breath that it threatens to break you apart to be worshiped piece by piece. It’s a kiss you can’t help but get lost in, and you surrender to it completely.
Javier had never been one for grand, public gestures. His intimacies – his dalliances – were always kept discreet, both for the sake of the women he was with and because he had been raised to not kiss and tell. Right now, he doesn't care about that, simply closing his eyes and sliding his tongue into your mouth.
The sound of a throat clearing doesn’t phase either of you, but being nudged almost makes you fall over as you had seemingly forgotten about everything but each other. “You’re still in a church, mijo.” His tía, Gloria, chides in an amused whisper. “There’s kids around.”
He clears his throat and drops his hands from your waist, eyes slightly shocked as he takes a step back. "Sorry." He murmurs quietly to his aunt.
“No one would notice if you needed to sneak away,” she teases before drifting off again, and as nice a woman as Gloria is, you could curse her for her timing.
Swallowing, Javi manages a small smile, knowing that he would not be able to sneak away with you. Kissing you shouldn't have even happened. "We're good."
“Maybe we should get something to eat.” The way he moved away from you made it feel like you burned him or forced him, and you can’t stand the thought of that.
“Of course, muñeca.” Javi is grateful to have something to focus on and his hand burns on your lower back as he turns you towards the tables laden down with food. You feel like you ought to apologize or something, but you don't want to. That kiss was every bit as perfect as you always knew it would be and you hate that he seems to regret it.
"Gloria's arepas are the best you will ever taste." He murmurs quietly. "But steer clear of her tamales." He warns. "They will give you heartburn and gas for a week."
"Maybe I want that," you joke, but steadily bypass the large bowl of tamales. "Get the dog back for farting on me every night."
“I don’t know what Pop is feeding him, but the smell is brutal.” Javi chuckles. “Oh, grab one of those.” He points to a small plate with a few pastries left. “You won’t regret it.”
"What is it?" Never one to turn up your nose at sweets, you immediately snap up one of the goodies for yourself and one for him.
“It’s some kind of yucca thing.” He shrugs and grins at you. “Never learned the name but they are fucking addictive.”
"We're gonna have to learn if they're as good as all that." The table of food is laid with all manner of Mexican and Texan home cooking, along with a few classic Southern staples and one dish that it seems like no one is willing to touch so you bypass it all together. An empty table along the wall is as good a place to sit as any and you head in that direction with Javi at your heels.
He had grabbed two fresh beer bottles as you had passed the drink table. Setting them down when you choose a spot and set your plate down. “I’ll grab some napkins.” He offers, realizing you both forgot them.
There is a little tittering around you at the table when Javi walks away - friends or family or just acquaintances who must have seen what happened on the dance floor or just heard that Javi has finally brought a girl home to meet the family. You ignore them dutifully, popping the bottle caps of your cold beers with the lighter from your purse, and sit back at the table to wait the mere thirty seconds it will take him to get napkins. Provided, of course, that he doesn't get sidelined by anyone on the way.
Javi grabs the napkins, turning around and heading back towards the table. Shaking his head as he watches everyone around you watching as if you are a fascinating creature.
“So you really haven’t ever brought a girl home.” When he comes back to you there’s an amused smirk on your face and nothing more. “You’d think I had a tail or something.”
He rolls his eyes and sighs. "I don't get it." He grumbles. "You would think that I was some kind of socially inept virgin or something." He knows why they are watchful. They've only ever seen him with Lorraine and couldn't possibly imagine him with anyone since he had never spoken of a woman.
“Or just a commitment-phobe.” Which you know is the real case. Javier flits from partner to partner like a hummingbird.
"Hmmm." Javi shrugs and picks up his bottle of beer. "There's that too." He acknowledges.
“It’s not the end of the world,” you shrug and pick up your fork, not wanting to give him the entire girlfriend-at-a-family-wedding experience, which definitely would have included some teasing about a ring. Instead, you’ll eat. Eating is safe.
"It's what happens when you don't show up to your last wedding." He tells you, taking a sip of his beer. "Elated that his fiancée finally had that stubbornly absent period that had you considering walking down the fucking aisle in the first place. Convenient that it was the night before we were getting married. Isn't it?"
"Marriage isn't for everybody." According to the people that knew him best, it was Lorraine that wasn't for him, but you aren't going to pick at an open wound. Instead you press your thigh against his while you sit and eat together, offering him a moment of grounding and comfort. "It's better that the two of you didn't drag yourselves through an angry marriage or an even worse divorce."
“And god forbid…kids.” Javi grunts. He would have never wanted to put a child through that shit.
"So you did what was best for you. Maybe it didn't seem nice at the time, but it was a hell of a lot nicer than the alternative." After all, Javi isn't a bad guy. Just a little unconventional in his methods. It's part of what you like so much about him. That the only person's expectations he bows to are his own.
“It’s for the best.” Javi shrugs slightly and picks up an arepa to take a large bite if it. “She’s here, by the way.”
"Oh?" That has you looking around the room instantly, as covertly as you can. "Where?"
He chuckles, not missing the instant curiosity that overcomes your features. You want to know what his ex looks like. “Over by the dessert table.” He hums. “The blonde in the flowery dress.”
"Interesting." She isn't what you would have guessed for him at all, but again, this is the woman that everyone says was so wrong for him. "She looks so..." You cringe apologetically. "Boring."
That comment catches him off guard and he snorts back a laugh. “That’s new.” He admits. “But kinda. You’re right. She wanted me to give up being a cop. Work for her daddy.”
"You could never give up being a cop." You shake your head, not able to imagine him doing anything else. Javier Peña was born to put bad guys away, no matter what form he did it in. "Like it's a damn good thing that Chucho has your cousins basically running the ranch, because you're a crime fighting guy to the bones."
“She hated it.” Javi shrugs. “I get it. It’s not an easy life.” He could have respected if she hadn’t been able to handle it. It was trying to change him that bothered him so much.
"That's for damn sure." It's also part of why you had never held onto a relationship long enough for it to be considered long-term. "Every guy I've ever dated has fully expected me to quit my job and get pregnant immediately. They want to turn me into a perfect little housewife. Now I'm not saying I'm against being a housewife, but it's just not for me."
“I don’t think any man would be happy to have his pregnant wife chasing sicarios, muñeca.” He murmurs. “I would chain you to your desk.”
"Who says I want kids? Who says I even want to get married?" You do, but for the sake of this exercise you're willing to be theoretical with him. "Having a conversation about it, or deciding together – that's different. But informing me that I will be living how they want me to with no other option because 'the man knows best' is just intolerable." It earns him a raised eyebrow from you. "If you tried to chain me to my desk, I'd knee you in the balls."
“I would take the pain if it meant you were not running across rooftops in the communas while you are pregnant.” He jokes, although he is kind of serious. “Limit it to one ball though. I would need the other if you wanted a second baby.”
He seems not to be entirely terrified of the topic, so you humor him with a smirk as you eat your arepa. "No running across rooftops if you ever knock me up, and you only get kicked in one ball instead of both. Got it. See? That's a compromise."
He rolls his eyes and chuckles, trying to ignore the thought of what would go into knocking you up. “So generous.” He grumbles sarcastically.
"It's fairly realistic, considering how stubborn we both are." You point out, enjoying the way it makes his cheeks turn pink to talk about. It's nice to know you aren't alone in the daydream even if he will never let it come to anything.
“You would try or threaten to shoot me within a month.” Humor seems to be a safe place to stand, especially when he can still feel your lips on his.
"I would not shoot you." It makes you laugh to imagine, though, and you manage to pull yourself back from the thought of getting pregnant to just being pregnant. "Unless the hormones get to me. Then I can't be held responsible."
“No gun when hormonal.” He hums, leaning back and grinning. “Got it.”
"It might finally get those CIA fuckers in line though." A thought which makes you fully guffaw. "An armed and pregnant DEA agent would be just enough of a pain in the ass to make them avoid me."
Javi laughs with you, aware that you would be given a wide berth if that were the case. “Escobar would be scared of you.” He jokes. “He would just– turn himself in.”
"In that case I need to be pregnant and on a plane back to Colombia immediately." The two of you giggling together is such a catharsis that you lean back in your chair and throw your whole self into laughing. "It would be studied in academy texts for years."
“They would be sending knocked up women to all the investigations.” He predicts. “Duty station of choice if you’re squeezing out a kid.”
You snort, taking a sip of your beer as you conjure that image in your mind. "But you have to be kept around your husband while you're there, and your husband isn't allowed to do a goddamn thing to help you ever. They need pregnant women who are at their maximum level of frustration."
“They are required to leave their dirty underwear on the floor.” Javi adds. “Especially when she’s too big to see her feet.”
"Tripping on dirty underwear sounds like the actual fastest way to make anyone mad." It earns him another snort, though, and you have to put the rest of your arepa down because you're laughing so hard. "There's wiretaps in everything so the second they hear your voice start to rise or worse...if you actually want to spend time with him? He's instantly sent to a poker night with his boys or something."
“He has to get drunk at the bar and come stumbling home to piss in your favorite potted plant.” Javi snorts. It’s good to see you relaxed, happy and laughing. Even better that it’s with him and he doesn’t want the moment to end.
"Nooo!" You frown instantly, pouting dramatically to make him laugh. "Not my plants!"
“Your favorite plants!” He insists, grinning and shaking his head. “And of course it dies a painful death.”
"Murphy's gonna fuckin' kill my plants." This time the pout is real, but you still chuckle through it, knowing that it isn't the end of the world. "If I ever get back to Colombia, I'll be starting from scratch."
“You will.” Javi predicts seriously. “You are going to go back. I know it.”
"Hopefully we both get to go back." It would be the nail in the coffin of any prayer of a relationship with him that you could have, but at least he would be happy. He would still be in your life, and you would both have your work, and you would make it okay as long as he got to be happy.
“That would be good.” You’re a damn fine agent and they would be lucky to have you back again.
"You deserve to be there." More than anyone else, Javi deserves to be in that fight and everyone knows it. "But just in case I can't go back with you, you gotta tell them about our pregnant agent plan, okay?"
“I will.” Javi’s already made up his mind. If he has to cash in every favor he has, he’s going to send you back to Colombia.
"Javier." An ice cold voice from behind you says his name like he's about to be sent to the principal's office, and you nearly jolt in your seat from the interruption of the surprisingly soft moment you were just having. To your surprise and amusement, the figure standing over your shoulder is a boring-looking blonde with a very curious look on her face. "Didn't expect to see you here."
“Lorraine.” Javi nods and sits up, halfway rising out of his chair but then he decides to stay seated. “I could say the same.” He admits. “How have you been?”
"Never better." She tips her nose up, giving you the distinct impression that she's lying. "Randy and I were just getting the kids ready to go home, but I thought I should at least say hello." Lorraine bristles slightly, casting an eye down at you. "Since the odds of seeing you at a wedding are so slim and all."
Javi takes the barb, accepting that out of everyone, she has the right to say something. “Apparently it’s just my own that I have an aversion to.” He jokes before he introduces you to his ex.
"Yes," she sniffs slightly when you put out your hand to her in the only polite gesture you can muster in the moment. "The girlfriend. I heard."
The venom in her tone surprises Javi, considering she’s gone on to marry Randy and have two children. Who are currently playing with his cousin’s kids. He watches as you shake hands and he feels the need to curl his arm around your shoulders. “Word travels fast, apparently.” He hums.
“It’s all over town.” She barely puts her hand in yours, weakly bent wrist and fingers as floppy as a fish snatched away as quickly as possible.
“People like to gossip.” He shrugs causally. “Wouldn’t be the first time people have talked about me.”
“You never give them reason not to,” she snipes, before standing up straight as a post again, like the stick inside her ass just reset itself.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Her prim Church Lady Holier-Than-Thou bullshit almost has you careening up out of your chair but you keep your voice down to a hiss. This is somebody else’s big day and you’re not here to ruin that. “Did you seriously come over here just to say ‘hey I still hate you’?”
Javi unwinds his arm from around you, dropping it down to your thigh to squeeze it. “It’s okay, muñeca.” He reassures you softly. He doesn’t want a scene at his cousin’s wedding. He flashes her an apologetic look and his eyes slide towards her husband and children. “Seems like things worked out.” He points out. “You look….happy.”
“No thanks to you.” Lorraine looks you over, clearly turning up her nose when her appraisal is over, and huffs. “Anyway, I heard you’re not staying. That’s for the best.”
“It depends.” Javi is annoyed with her tone, but he grins, lacing his fingers with yours. “I think she likes the idea of a hometown family wedding.”
“I want whatever you want, mi guerrero.” However doting it might have sounded by accident, the soft sentiment and wistful tone in your voice is honest. If he decides to take the chance, you would drive in with him wholeheartedly.
It's not to annoy Lorraine, who used to plaster herself to Javi's side and beg him for kisses when they were out on the town, but simply because he wants to. He leans in and presses his lips to yours softly. "I love you." The words are said because they are true and you have heard them. You know how he feels because of his confession.
The stiff, priggish huff from above you makes no difference at this moment. All that matters in the soft, warm press of his lips and the way his words warm through you completely. If it’s the only time you’ll ever hear them like this, you’re going to savor them forever. “I love you, too.”
Javi hums, nudging his nose against yours before he pulls back. His heart thumping in his chest as you smile at him. When you finally look up again, drifting back to reality on the gorgeous feeling of lightness, Lorraine is nowhere in sight. "I think we annoyed her," you giggle softly, wishing you had the freedom to steal another kiss.
"I wasn't trying to do that." Javi hums, even though he is grinning back at you. "Not really. It's just a...perk."
"I would have thought it was the other way around." One hand finds his cheek softly, but you don't let the feeling linger. The last time you touched him even innocently, it had set you on fire.
He hates when you pull away, wanting to lean into your touch and chase your fingers on his skin. "Do you want to leave soon?" He asks. "Since we have ruffled some feathers?"
"Only if you do." A glimpse of a blonde walking out the door says that Lorraine is leaving, and people will always gossip no matter what, but if Javi is enjoying himself then you'll stay here forever. "This is your family, we can stay as long as you want."
"We can leave." Javi hums. He's full and the gossip is going to ramp up. He would rather not make you endure the entire saga of his canceled wedding.
"We should let your dad know." Especially if he wants to go home. Taking the truck means Chucho will either need to call you to come pick him up later or he'll need to get a ride from one of his numerous friends.
Javi nods, wiping his hands on his jeans as he stands. "I'll go let Pop know."
There are several rounds of goodbyes, ultimately, and Javi's family showers you in affectionate hugs and dozens of cheek kisses before sending the two of you on your way. "They love you," you hum, not dropping his hand as you stroll out of the building into the later afternoon sun.
"It's because I'm not around." Javi snorts as he guides you towards the truck, keys in hand. "They remember the boy I was."
"You're still worth loving." And the idea that he would think anything different is utterly ridiculous to your mind.
"Maybe." Javi doesn't dwell on it, moving to open the passenger door for you and watching you as you approach it.
"Definitely." And you're not going to get in the damn truck while he's being self-deprecating. "You're a better man than you give yourself credit for."
He rolls his eyes, not believing you, but he figures this is something you are going to be stubborn about. "Yeah, okay, sure." He huffs after a long moment. "Will you get in the truck?"
"One day you're going to believe me," you promise him, relenting and climbing into the cab.
"Perhaps." Javi sighs. "Or perhaps you will believe me."
"Nope." There are very few things in the world he could ever do to make you lose respect for him or stop loving him – and they really are things that Javier Peña would never do. "We're both too stubborn for our own good. Deal with it."
"Whatever you say." He rolls his eyes again, lips trying to suppress his grin as he closes the door to walk around the hood. You are just as stubborn as he is, but he doesn't mind you believing in him.
The drive back to the ranch is mostly quiet. The radio plays while Javi drives, and halfway down the long road from downtown out to the house, you take a chance on slipping your hand over his on the gear shift. He accepts it wordlessly, like he has the rest of today, but the warmth that runs through you is inescapable.
It's only when you are pulling back up to the ranch that Javi pulls his hand away. Hating the loss of your warmth, he looks over at you once the engine is cut. "Hell of a day."
“Not too bad, hopefully?” The idea of the exercise, of acting like his girlfriend all day, was never to tease or taunt him. But just to give you both a moment of warmth in the midst of everything that was seeming to go wrong.
"No, it was a pretty good day." He admits, staring at you as if he is making a decision. Fighting himself once again.
“And now we have some time to do whatever we want.” Although you wonder what that would be. He could suggest almost anything and you would agree.
"Muñeca." His jaw clenches and he takes a breath. "I– I don't know what's going to happen in D.C." He reminds you. "But, we have tonight."
“Are you…” Sitting there in the cab of his father’s truck, you can practically feel your jaw hit the floorboards. “Are you…suggesting that we evict MacGyver?”
"Unless you want the dog to watch?" He asks, lifting a brow in amusement.
You practically climb over the center console, fusing your lips to his greedily and letting one hand cup his cheek as the other finds its way into his hair with the depth of the kiss. He could invite the entire town to watch and you wouldn’t care.
Javi groans your name against your lips, immediately crushing you against him and his hands turn greedy. Pulling you out of the truck and pressing you against the side. The neediness is only matched by how giddy you feel, and the second you’re both out of the truck you’re pulling him toward the house. “Can’t get in trouble for fucking while we were both suspended.”
"Fuck it." Javi is already unbuttoning his shirt when he has to take his hands off of you. Dropping it on the front porch.
When you come together again it’s like an explosion. One that scatters clothing and moans to the wind and sends both dogs skittering in confusion. Pieces of furniture or doorways in the way are staging areas that you will be pressed against on your way back to the bedroom and nothing more.
At the entrance to the bedroom, Javi licks into your mouth desperately, his cock grinding against you. "Muñeca." He murmurs, kissing along your jaw once he can tear his lips away from yours. "I love you."
“I love you, too.” Your dress lays discarded in the hallway somewhere, your shoes and purse and Javi’s shoes and belt along with it. There will be no doubt of what the two of you have gotten up to when Chucho gets home, but neither of you is even thinking of that right now. Right now Javi is steering you blindly toward the bed and your hands are trying desperately to open his jeans before he manages it.
By the time that the back of your knees hit the bed, his hand has abandoned his jeans. Certain that you would take care of freeing him from the tight confines of the denim, he plunges his thick fingers into your panties, twisting his hand and finding your folds.
“Oh shit—” He swallows your moan completely, adding one of his own to it when you finally manage to pop the buttons on his jeans and get your hand inside. His cock is a s hard as your pussy is wet, making both of you cling that much tighter to each other as you topple backward into the mattress.
"Fuck your cunt is hot." He groans, pushing his fingers deeper, pushing them up inside you to curl up. It's just as hot and tight as he had imagined, several times while he was inside another woman, but he wouldn't tell you that.
“Jesus—fuck—oh my god, Javi—” You knew he would be good. Dozens of women didn’t hang on his every fucking word and expression for no reason. But to feel it is something so utterly different that it has scrambled your mind almost immediately.
"So sweet." He nips your jaw and pumps his fingers into your heat slowly. "Jesus Christ, you feel so good. Imagined this cunt. How you would feel around me."
“Imagined how good your cock would feel.” With one hand around his length, the long strokes you make up and down have his veins pulsing gorgeously. “Jeans don’t leave a goddamn thing to the imagination.”
"Fuck." He hisses, rolling his hips forward. "They are comfortable."
“Drive me fucking crazy every single day.” You pump his cock eagerly, every thrust of his fingers making you nearly grip too tight.
"You fucking drove me crazy." He moans. "C–constantly visiting Gabby to get you out of my head."
“Named my favorite dildo Javi,” you admit with a smirk, twisting underneath him to unclasp your bra. “Still not as good as this cock is going to be.”
"You don't know that." He smirks and ducks his head down to bite your nipple and then sucks on it when you pull your bra off. "Could be horrible at fucking."
“Doubtful.” The way you gasp and undulate under him is practically making the windows fog and you couldn’t give less of a shit. “Very fucking doubtful. I’ve seen the cock drunk looks on the typists’ faces the next day.”
He chuckles and hums as he sucks on your breast again. "I didn't care about them." He reminds you.
“Neither do—fuck—I.” That tongue of his is going to be the death of you. Clever with words but cleverer with pleasure. “Was so fucking jealous, though.”
"They weren't you." He coos, kissing up your chest and then pressing his lips to yours. "No one was you."
The fluttering that carries through you is so deep and so true that you stop altogether, caressing his cheek with your other hand. “I love you, cariño. Since the day we met, I think. There’s just…there’s no one in the world like you.”
"Can't account for taste." He teases gently, nuzzling in your hand. He closes his eyes and sighs softly. "I love you."
“I love you.” As many times as he says it, you will repeat it back to him, reminding him that he is not alone in this feeling. That he never has to be alone again. “And no piece of shit bureaucrat is going to stop me.”
He hums and then starts to tug your panties down. Wanting to touch you. “Fuck–fuck, need a condom.” He needs to be inside you but he's not bought condoms in forever and he damn sure wouldn't trust any that were in this room.
“I’m safe.” The idea of stopping now, when he has your panties halfway down your thighs and his cock out for you to drool over, is absolutely unacceptable. “Thank god for birth control, right?”
"Best invention ever." Javi groans, rushing to kiss you again before he pulls away to his knees so he can strip off your panties and kick off his jeans.
If you giggle at his enthusiasm it’s only because it matches your own. The erratic way your heart is beating says everything needs to: whatever comes next, this night is just for the two of you. It’s probably less suave than he would have imagined, sliding between your thighs. Need making him impatient and fumbling. It had been a long time since he had been so emotionally connected during something like this.
The first kiss of pressure when he slides the head of his cock through your dripping folds and begins to push forward is ecstasy. There is no thought for who else either of you may have touched, no moment of claiming or possession. It is togetherness in the purest sense of the term that has you gasping out loud, moaning his name into the Texas sunset. It feels like you’ve finally found the missing piece of you when Javi fills you completely, and your arching back brings you up to press as much of your body against his as you can manage.
Every second inside you makes his breathing ragged. Now because of the physical act, he’s had sex, great sex. It’s because it’s you. It feels like home. It’s the only way he can describe the way his entire body simultaneously lights up and goes numb to all but the slightest sounds you make as your eyes flutter close and the most delicate whine rips from your parted lips.
“Javi…” Breathing his name again, you wrap one arm around his shoulders and the other braces on the bed beneath you. Like this you can meet every thrust and ply kisses from him with every roll of your hips.
“Fuck, muñeca.” Javi groans, holding you closer as he starts a pace that isn’t quite frantic but enthusiastic.
“So f—fucking perfect.” Already there are beads of sweat down your back and along your forehead, the movements of your bodies eager and fierce as you come together.
His teeth snap together as he pushes into you harder, enough to make your body jolt and a perfect little squeal erupt from your chest.
“Fuck!” It’s good – so good – it’s perfect – the way he feels buried in your pussy, but you need more. You need to be branded by every inch of him so that you can return to this night over and over again in the years to come. “Let me—on your back, baby. Wanna ride you.”
He groans, nodding as he steals a last kiss before reluctantly pulling away. “You knew this was going to happen when we danced.” He pants, accusing you of planning this, but only playfully.
“Hoped.” You can admit that as he sprawls out on his back, giving you the chance to admire him before you straddle his hips and line yourself up to sink down on him. “Honestly thought I was being well behaved for not choosing a slow song.”
“Slow would have been better,” he groans, grabbing your hip when you reach down and wrap your talented hand around his cock. Lifting up so you can take him again. “Driven me crazy.”
“Then we’re even.” Another whine tears from your throat as you sink down on him, but there is no adjustment period this time. Your cunt is slick enough to take three of him and you’re not about to lose this moment to anything. Encouraging his other hand up to your tits, you start to move with the kind of enthusiasm that has sweat beading on your skin all over again.
You look like a fucking goddess. Or maybe a siren. Either way, you tempt him to reach for more. His hands squeeze and hold you like he is afraid you will slip out of his grasp.
“Dreamed about this.” It all comes tumbling out of your mouth as you bounce on him, tight walls of your pussy welcoming him deep inside you every time. “Riding you on the fuck—file room floor. Getting you to bend me over your desk and claim me.”
“You– you like that kind of thing?” Javi groans and twitches deep inside your cunt when you clench around him.
“Not before you,” you admit, looking down at him as you roll and twist your hips. “Now I want it so bad.”
He groans again, hisses slightly at how good it feels when you do that. “Why?” He gasps out.
"You. Would shout it from the f–fuck–ing rooftops." The moan that escapes you is loud enough that you're grateful no one else is home. That, and the fact that you've never been this fucking chatty during sex before. Chucho would find out a whole lot about you if he was home.
He chuckles, more like gasps in amusement as you slam down on his cock again. Groaning your name as he watches you bounce on him. “Fuck, fuck baby.”
"So fucking good." His hand on your hip grips you tightly and you never falter in your pace, working you both toward an end that is going to leave both of you rattling.
“Jesus Christ.” Javi hisses, throwing his head back into the pillow as his hips jerk up. “Fuck baby, you– oh fuck.”
"Didn't think you were the only good lay at the embassy, did you?" You tease, breathless and moaning at the way his cock seems to drill all the way into your belly when you slam your hips down to meet his again.
"You– fuck, you develop a reputation?" He asks, smirking up at you and moaning again when you roll your hips.
"CIA fucks tried." Not that you had let them anywhere near you. They weren't Javi, first of all, and they didn't give you an ounce of respect. Kind of like the guys from Milgroup who tried to get in your pants before they knew you were an agent. "Only wanted you."
He hums, proud of that even though it wasn't fair how much he indulged. Right now they don't matter, nothing matters but you and he lunges up to kiss you.
It catches you off guard enough to send you tumbling to the mattress again, and Javier is above you again before sliding back inside you so easily that the wet pull of your cunt is barely an echo of the way all your nerve endings set off one by one. You were already so close to cumming that your legs were beginning to shake, and the look in his eyes says you're about to be pounded in the mattress in the most breathless and loving way possible.
There has always been an edge to his fucking, a roughness that normally presents itself in the bite of his teeth or harshness if his grip. This time, he uses the sharp snaps of his hips to make sure that you feel every inch of his cock pummel your pussy as he stakes his claim on you.
It's exactly what you said you wanted -- this feeling of being claimed – and you simply let go. He can have you any way he wants as long as he is still fucking you and you won't have a single thing to say about it except to ask for more.
The muscle in his jaw and neck strain as he rocks into you at a pace that keeps your moans breathless and ragged. Hissing again at how good it feels to be inside you.
"Oh fuck — oh fuck, Javi–" His name barely makes it past your lips as your hands tighten on him and you let out another, tighter cry. The air is full of the wet slap of skin on skin and your body is pulling tight as a bowstring. "I'm gonna cum baby, fuck."
“Yes.” Javi groans. “Yesssss.” Feeling your body start to buck and tremble under him and he keeps driving into you. Wanting you to cum for him.
It doesn't take more than another three or four strokes before your vision turns white and stars spark behind your eyes, a long moan pouring from your open lips and his name following after it like he has just fucked it out of the depths of his soul with the last thrust.
Right when you clench down on him, Javi's entire body stiffens. Unable to do more than just tumble over the edge after you and thrust deep, feeling the purest pleasure he has ever known wrack his body as your orgasm heightens his own.
"Holy hell." When you can breathe again you're immediately reaching to wrap your arms around him, pulling Javi close and keeping him there with no thought to having his weight pressing you further into the bed.
Humming, Javi's body relaxes and he sighs as he turns his head to snuggle into your neck and kiss your pulse. "Like that?"
"I'll..." You swallow the bittersweet reality of it as you lie with him in your arms. "I'll never forget it." You can promise him that. Even if tomorrow comes and he wants these moments kept in the folder in his mind meant for daydreams, you will never forget a single second of it.
He groans quietly and shakes his head. "Hard to ever forget."
"I won't say it again if you don't want me to, but...I love you, Javi." The pretending was worth it. You don't regret the decision for a second. But putting your feelings back on the shelf is going to be harder than you had originally thought, and you already knew it was going to be difficult.
"I love you too." Javi pulls back and reaches up to caress your face gently and kiss you one more time before he starts to pull out of you gently.
“Bet you didn’t have this on your Bingo card for having me stay at the ranch.” Laughter is good, it keeps you from sinking down or thinking too much about how this really might be a once in a lifetime experience.
"No," Javi can admit that, rolling onto his back and wishing that he could have a cigarette. Chucho didn't allow smoking in the house and he didn't want to put on pants and go outside. He opens one arm and offers you a place to snuggle up. "I don't think you expected it either."
"Expect? No." His open arm is beckoning you and you curl up against him happily. A cigarette would be fucking perfect right now but you're not even sure where you dropped your purse even if Chucho did allow it inside. "But a girl can hope."
"It's hard to resist you." He admits, looking up at the ceiling as his arm closes around you and his fingers start to map your skin gently. "Hardest thing I've ever fucking done. And I failed."
“Can’t say I’m upset about it, honestly.” If you even claimed it that would be a horrible lie. His soft touches are as tantalizing as his rougher ones, and it is making your skin tingle.
“I gathered.” He hums, smirking slightly. “If I could move I would be having a cigarette right now.” He admits, laughing at himself.
"You and me both," you hum back, feeling a tiny bit embarrassed with how your mouth ran away with you.
“We have D.C. in a few days.” Javi thinks out loud as he watches the fan spin lazily.
"I know." It will mean going back to being coworkers. Leaving this day – this night – behind you and being professional again. You've already gotten suspended for fucking one partner. You don't need to get in trouble for both.
"If I get fired, I've decided that I'm going to come back here." He announces softly, turning his head and looking over at you. "What will you do? Any plans?"
“I have no idea.” And considering you’re pretty certain that you’ll end up getting the boot, you should probably think about it. “Could see if the Marshals will take me back. Or try local PD wherever I end up, I suppose.”
"You know....Pop likes you." He ventures, not daring to look over at you while he broaches the subject. "And MacGuyver is in love with you too. Poor boy would be missing all the love you shower on him. And the scraps you slip him."
It isn’t as subtle or smooth as he thinks it is, the way he lays the idea out for you to consider, and you turn your head to watch him inspect the ceiling instead of actually looking at you. “Are you asking me to stay, Jav? As in stay with you?”
He swallows slightly and opens his mouth a few times, half sounds coming out before he closes it again. Sighing as he rolls his head to the side to meet your gaze and nodding. "Guess I am." He shrugs one shoulder and shoots you a self deprecating grin. "If that's something you would want if you get fired."
“Alright,” you manage to swallow an almost giddy sound and nod, holding yourself to just a broad smile. “If we get fired, I’ll stay.”
"Alright." He nods back at you and tries to smother the pleased look on his face. "If we get fired, we will get into Pop's hair."
“I don’t want to ruin the mood…” you sigh despite yourself. “What if only one of us gets fired?”
"If you get fired, you have a place here then too." He promises, frowning slightly as he tries to imagine what he would do. "If I get fired..." he shakes his head. "You have Pop's number." He grunts. "If you need anyone to talk to when you're on a stakeout."
“If I get fired, you want me to keep living with your dad?” It’s sweet, actually, the way he twists the situations and tries not to overstep. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go, but the way he says it is sweet and almost tentative.
"He's old and he snores way too loud when he's in that damn recliner...." Javi jokes, his hand sliding up and down your back. "But I know he would love the company. Especially if you keep making that one recipe."
“He grows so many damn leeks in his garden, I don’t know how he wasn’t making potato leek soup for years already.” Chancing it, you place a kiss on his shoulder and just let yourself smile. “I don’t want this to be the end either, Jav…I just don’t want you to feel like you have to offer me a place here.”
"I know I don't." His brows knit together and he shakes his head. "That's not why I'm offering. I– if you don't want to stay, you don't have to."
“I want to be with you,” you clarify, and lean up on your arm in his bed. “Fired or otherwise. Long distance or right in the same bed. Fuck, I’d go back to Colombia as a civilian if you asked me to. But only if that’s what you really want.”
"I don't know what will happen, muñeca." He admits softly. "But I don't want to go back to pretending that you are just my work partner."
“Then we will figure it out.” The lines in his face crease when he frowns, all except the slight crows feet by his eyes, and you trace them with your finger without realizing really what you’re doing. “We’ll see what the big bosses say, and we’ll figure out what it means for us.” You shoot him a sly smirk. “And the dog is going to have to learn how to sleep elsewhere again, because leaving the door open isn’t gonna happen anymore.”
"Oh yeah?" The frown slides into a grin that is slightly mischievous. "Why is that?"
“Because,” you pretend to roll your eyes, like you’re sighing over him not getting your joke even though he’s teasing. “As much as I love MacGyver? I’d rather we have the freedom to fall asleep naked, exhausted, and smelling like really good sex.”
"Really good sex." He grunts, his hand coming down to squeeze your ass. "So I need to tell Pop not to poke his head in and check on us during the night anymore."
“Probably for the best.” You snort, not realizing he had been doing that at all. “Unless you want your dad to get an eye full.”
"Might excite the old man into having a heart attack." He chuckles. "Damn near stopped my heart."
“All respect and love to Chucho, but that’s not a view of me I want him to have.” Javier, however? He could tie you up naked to enjoy the view and your only question would be if he was ever going to join you.
"Then I suggest we share a shower before pop gets home." He hums. "We could always sneak out to the back porch to smoke a cigarette naked. No one workin' today."
“Depends.” Sitting up again, you stretch your arms over your head and sigh out happily. “Do you need a little longer? Because I was going to suck your cock in the shower.”
"Fuck." Javi groans, and his cock twitches slightly. "Cigarette, shower, then another cigarette."
“You’re on.” The giggle that floats out of you is easy and free, and you glance back at the shut door guiltily. “And we should probably pick up the mess we made on our way in.”
"Less Pop knows we stripped in the house, the less shit we get." He admits, patting your ass in appreciation and watching you sit up.
“Then get your ass moving, Peña.” You grin and shake your own a little when you get up. “I’m gonna track down my purse.”
"You know you were never actually my boss, right?" He grumbles as he stands up and stretches, scratching his ass before he follows you out of the room. "Being bossy doesn't mean you're the boss."
“Oh, I know I wasn’t before this.” When you smirk at him over your shoulder, it’s devilish. “But we’ve crossed over, cariño. The rules have changed. Girlfriends are always the boss.”
"Great." He scoffs, shaking his head and trying not to smirk. "That's just fuckin' great."
******
"Agent Peña, how much do you know about the Cali Cartel?" The question hangs in the air thicker than cigarette smoke, with Spencer staring down his nose at Javier like a headmaster with an exceptional yet naughty pupil.
Javi shifts in his seat, slightly exhausted from the night of hotel sex that you and he had indulged in. Since you both had to pay for your lodging, he had booked a room that had a jacuzzi tub in the middle of the room and a mirror on the ceiling over the bed. It had been a good fucking night. "I do." He nods, looking back at the man in confusion. He had been brought here for a disciplinary meeting was the working assumption.
"How much?" Spencer prompts again, leaning forward in his chair. If Peña is going to be useless to him then it doesn't matter. But if he has his nose in as much information as people seem to think he does, then Javier Peña may still be an asset to the agency.
Javi shifts and repositions in the chair and stares at the bureaucrat. "Run by Gilberto and Miguel Rodriguez, Cali is estimated to produce over eight percent of the cocaine in the world." He tells him conversationally. "Less violent than Escobar, at least publically. The ‘Gentlemen of Cali’ have legitimate businesses that cover their less than legal enterprises and I'd put their operation at about..." He bobbles his head. "Twenty billion dollars per year."
"Have you had dealings with them? Run-ins? Good information? Things that can be worked with?" Information is its own kind of currency, and Spencer isn't trying to sound greedy for it but that definitely is what he is.
"Their second in command – at least as much as you could call him that – Pacho Herrera, was involved with Escobar." He senses that Spencer wants what Javi knows and pounces on that. "I've still got plenty of connections that deal with him." He shrugs. "Personal ones, you know?"
"Ones that will only work with you." Spencer nods in understanding. Sometimes that is the way criminal informants operate. Everyone in law enforcement understands.
"That's right." He agrees, leaning back in his chair slightly. Waiting for the man to offer the opportunity. From the tone of the meeting it was coming.
"When you're reinstated we'll need you to initiate contact again right away." To the bureaucrat, of course, there is no question. Peña will take the job they are prepared to offer him because he would be an idiot not to. And Javier Peña is many things, but very few people have ever considered him an idiot. "Station Chief is a little different than you're used to but the hours are better and the office is comfortable."
His brow arches in surprise and he waits another minute before he speaks again. He can see Spencer getting impatient, wanting his answer in the affirmative. "Under one condition." He says finally.
"Depends on what it is," the man chuckles, fully expecting a negotiation for an absurd salary jump or some kind of provisional luxury that would be out of the question. He could whittle it down to something doable and they would both consider it a win.
Javi says your name and waits for recognition to register on Spencer's face. "She comes with me to Colombia, and the disciplinary letter is removed from her file."
"Jesus." He sits back, rolling his eyes a little and huffing. "What does this woman have that seems to make all our agents lose their minds over her?" Spencer shakes his head, ready to say no when he sees the dead serious cut of Peña's jaw. "Why her?" He asks instead. "Why not get Murphy back?"
"Murphy’s going back to Miami." Javi reminds him, knowing that being home is the best thing for his and Connie's relationship. "He’ll be happy where he is and she's a good agent." He insists. "Better than Murphy, better than me."
"She's a liability." He reminds the agent on the other side of his desk. "Too emotional. Too sentimental."
"It won't be a problem." Javi assures him. "She's going, one way or another, so you might as well get an agent out of it."
That makes Spencer hesitate, and he looks up from the papers in front of him to level Peña with a stern expression. "You know there is a hard and fast fraternization rule if you're her superior, don't you?"
"Doesn't count if the relationship was established before the promotion." Javi answers, calling his bluff.
"You'll have to provide documentation." This is going sideways just a little and Spencer pulls tight on the reins to make sure he doesn't lose control. "If you can do that, it's all clear."
Javi huffs in amusement and nods. "Fine." He shrugs, the tickets to Texas and the pictures that you had taken on the ranch of the two of you should suffice. "She retains agent status, then?"
Spencer sighs, longer and more irritated than it should be, but it is what it is. "As long as she treads carefully. You're responsible for her now, Peña."
"She should have just gotten a slap on the wrist the last time and you know it." Javi stands and rolls his shoulders back. "We done here?"
"My secretary has your paperwork. Sign it and tell her where to mail your tickets to Colombia. You're back in that embassy in a week," He flashes a murky, insincere smile. "Enjoy the rest of your vacation, Chief."
Nodding, Javi doesn't offer the man his hand, just turns to walk out of the office to find you sitting in a chair on the other side of a very bored looking secretarial desk. "You're up." He murmurs, not wanting to tell you about what had just happened until after you are out of this building.
"Don't sound so excited about it." You try to laugh so that you don't seem nervous, but pass him into the office with a deep exhale. "Sir." It's reflex to close the door behind you, but you don't sit until Spencer waves his hand at the chair that Javi was just occupying.
"Sit." His original plan had been to give you your walking papers, kicking you out of the DEA, but that had been changed by Javier Peña. "This shouldn't take long."
"Yes, sir." You knew it. To keep from deflating, you sit up in that chair as ramrod straight as humanly possible and fold your hands in your lap. You're getting fired. You knew it.
Despite his assurances that it wouldn't take long, Spencer spends several moments shuffling papers and scribbling furiously. He will have to have your records put back and he pulls out the disciplinary letter out of your file to be shredded. "When did you start fucking Peña, agent?" He asks, not looking up as he continues to write. "Before or after you returned to the United States?"
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You swallow harshly but make sure that your face doesn't change whatsoever. "After, sir."
Spencer finally looks up, watches you for a moment and then nods. "Peña said the same." He tells you. "Relationships between a station chief and an agent are frowned upon, but..." He shakes his head and sighs. "It can't be censured if it happened before a promotion as was just pointed out to me." He stares at you, jaw clenched before he shoots you a bland smile. "Pack your things, agent." He tells you. "You're going back to Colombia."
"Thank you, sir." That is a whole lot of news to take in all at once, and you have to hold yourself up by sheer force of will so that you don't just deflate with relief on the spot. "Immediately?"
"As soon as your tickets can be purchased." He nods before he points at you. "It's your last chance." He warns you. "Peña put his own ass on the line for you. So if you fuck up..." He shrugs. "He can't save you."
"I understand, sir." Life by the book is going to be an interesting way to live with Javier Peña beside you, but it's an adventure you're excited to take.
______
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g1rlr0b1n · 5 months
Text
Damian: Quick, I need you to pretend to be my lover! Take off your clothes, let's have sex.
Jon: Ummm, wait. That's not pretending.
Damian: Tt, it's called method acting.
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theminecraftbee · 1 month
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Just reread the whole scs tag and now I want to see Three's first meeting with Etho (Iirc the clip of Grian being scared of Etho sneaking around and then seeming to teleport outside the ice shop is Grian's first meeting with Etho? (And it was season 7.) And I think the "two nervous animals stare at each other" vibes could fit.)
Three is nervous.
It has heard of Etho before. Etho is very high on the threat rankings it had memorized; Etho is considered more of a threat than is currently worth taking out; Etho is, apparently, a legend even around Players who do not understand quite how much of a threat he is. There are standing orders and plans still programmed into Three on how to take him out in a way that would not make a martyr of him. Three thinks many of these plans are stupid.
Three--
Three is nervous. It has heard of Etho before, and it does not know if Etho would have heard of a Blade before, or if any of that would get in the way of it conversing with Etho. Three is relatively confident it could beat Etho in a fight. For all Etho is a threat, he is merely a Player, and Three is a Blade. That had never been why Etho is a threat. That had...
Mumbo had promised Etho was not mean. Three had asked Mumbo what that had to do with anything. Mumbo had mumbled something about how, well, if Three was worried about Etho yelling at it, then Etho wouldn't. Etho would actually also worry, Mumbo assured Three. Etho seems cool at first, but he's actually kind of awkward, Mumbo assured Three.
Three had commented that 'seeming cool at first but actually being kind of awkward' is, apparently, a common problem. It can understand why.
None of that really solves why Three is nervous, but going over the ways Etho is a threat, and the plans it has to mitigate that threat is... nice. It should not use them, because Mumbo has promised that Hermitcraft is safe. Three finds it does not want to be the reason it is not safe. Three will not mitigate the threat of Etho. Three should not have to mitigate the threat of Etho.
Three is nervous because it wants something from Etho, and doesn't have anything to offer in return.
It stands in the jungle and waits. It sees Etho arrive, because it is watching for him, but Etho seems surprised, backing away nervously on seeing Three.
"Oh. Um. Hello there. You're Mumbo's scary friend. The new one he brought here. That one. That needed help? Um, I'm Etho."
"I know. Does Mumbo describe me as scary?"
"Not usually?" Etho says.
"Oh," Three says. It does not give away its disappointment. Etho is not a handler and not another Watcher, but it is best not to give away emotions like disappointment when it wants something from him anyway.
"Is there a reason you're, uh, lurking in my base?"
Three does not fidget. It is too well-trained to. "I am here to ask a favor."
"Shoot, uh, I guess I can hear it," Etho says.
"You are making your base out of interiors, you said, in the meeting," Three says. "I--I want. I want to do that. I want--I want you to show me how to do that." The words are harder to pull out of its mouth than it thought they would be. "I do not have much to offer you. I could take care of one of your enemies, but Mumbo says Hermitcraft is safe, and I do not know if I want to do that, I just know that I want..."
Three trails off.
"Apologies. I am unclear. Will clarify," Three says.
Asking for things it wants is--hard. It's still hard. It is not good at reporting on what it wants. Etho is staring at it. Three stands perfectly still, because it is well-trained.
"Most builders aren't a big fan of interiors," Etho says slowly, "let alone a base entirely out of them. That's, uh, a big favor you're asking. Can I ask why?"
Beneath the mask, Three opens its mouth. It closes it again. It does not know how to say: because I am the thing that replaced someone who built big empty shells. Because I filled one of those empty shells. Because I could have been one of those empty shells. Because I do not want to leave behind empty shells. Because if I am gone, I want the things to leave to be knit socks and cozy rooms and laughter, not a big empty temple with a farm in the middle. Because I am Three, and I am a person, and I want the world to remember that.
What Three says instead is: "I can pay you back. I am useful."
Etho looks at Three. He rubs the back of his head. "You know, normally no one is dumb enough to give me an IOU this early in the season?" He laughs almost nervously. "Sure, man, I can teach you to make a base out of interiors. Why not."
"Thank you," Three says, and its shoulders do not slump, because it is well-trained.
"No problem. Say, what do you think about pranks?"
"I would like to learn to do those too," Three says promptly.
Etho also wears a mask. This does not stop Three from being able to tell the man is smirking.
"You know what? We're gonna get along just fine," he says. Strangely, Three believes him.
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antimonyandthyme · 3 months
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the so-called narrative (read on ao3 here)
10k; oscar/carlos
“It’s annoying. Whatever. They’re not going to stop.” “Not if you keep hating on me.” “I don’t hate you,” Oscar says, a little too hastily. “Hating on me.” Carlos’ lopsided smile is amused, too knowing for comfort. “They’re two different things.”
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targarrus · 2 months
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hi gongeous @gasstationpopcorn happy valentines and have a nice day :)
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nyoomfruits · 6 months
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trick or treat! :D
i saw your url and i was like. wait i have something probably so !!! lestappen snippet :D
Charles puts a halt to that insane train of through and puts on the sweatpants, the nondescript black t-shirt, and then nearly drops the light blue hoodie Max had handed him when he unfolds it.
“I thought I said no obnoxious Red Bull stuff,” he grumbles, stomping back into the living and brandishing the light blue monstrosity at Max like a weapon.
“Yeah?” Max says. “So? That’s hardly obnoxious.”
Charles unfolds it and holds it up. The word ‘SPIELBERG’ is printed across the back in large white letters, Max and Checo’s names smaller underneath it along with the Red Bull logo. The front has the Red Bull logo and the word ‘Spielberg’ again, smaller this time. “How is this not obnoxious,” Charles says, a little indignantly.
“Spielberg is a lovely little village in Austria, I don’t see the big deal here,” Max says, feigning an innocence that heavily contradicts the shit eating grin on his face. “Listen, I only just got home, all my non branded hoodies are in the laundry,” he adds, a little more seriously. “It’s either this one, or a classic dark blue Red Bull one which I think you would find even more obnoxious, so.”
Charles considers the third option, which is not wearing the hoodie at all, but the material in his hands is thick and soft, and he’s still shivering a little. “I’ll take Spielberg,” he says, a little primly, and pulls the hoodie over his head.
Max is grinning at him when Charles looks at him again. “You look good in blue,” he says, shuffling over the couch to make room for Charles to flop down.
“Fuck off,” Charles tells him, but settles down on the couch anyway. The hoodie is surprisingly comfortable, not that he’s ever telling Max that. “This does not leave this house,” Charles adds, pointing at Max warningly as Max starts messing around with the remote of the TV, pulling up Netflix.
“Oh please,” Max says, “Like anyone would ever believe me if I told them Charles Leclerc was on my couch in a Red Bull hoodie watching crappy Netflix reality shows.”
“We’re not watching-“ Charles starts, only to be interrupted by the TV playing obnoxiously loud pop music. He glances back at it only to see the opening credits of Selling Sunset. Charles raises an eyebrow. “Or maybe we are.”
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eskawrites · 11 months
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the funniest part of the celebrity fake dating au is that dustin spent years teasing robin and steve for being blatantly in love, when in reality anyone with eyes could have seen that robin and nancy were head over heels for each other the entire time
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This Alenoaheather AU is bringing me an unholy amount of serotonin and I love it- I’m still just now discovering it and I wish I knew about it sooner😭😭 But question if I may!
So, by the time Noah gets eliminated, where would you say his relationship lies with Alejandro and Heather? Like, does he leave the competition like, “You both tried to play each other, but I ended up playing the both of you, L” Like does he just think that Alejandro and Heather only romantically like each other, and he was just their attempt at emotionally manipulating one another, or does he at least have an idea that they potentially may feel romantically towards him? Honestly I’m just curious about how his elimination would play out between the three of them-
I'm glad other people are enjoying this AU as much as I am. Me and Perp are slowly spreading our Alenoaheather propaganda and it's working.
It's been established that Noah's elimination in this AU will take place at some point in the early post-merge game, probably either China or the Serengeti (though Niagara Falls might work too. We haven't exactly touched on how each challenge can/will play out since this whole concept has been put on the backburner), which gives his dynamic with Heather and Alejandro time to blossom from the initial double fake dating ploy into something more genuine.
Well before his elimination, Noah's been caught in his double-crossing ways; or to be more accurate triple-crossing, since Noah initially decided to play along with both Heather and Alejandro's schemes with the intention of throwing them both under the bus (or at least reaping all of the benefits for himself). But, by the time his ploy is figured out, the three of them have developed genuine feelings for each other.
As such, Heather and Alejandro are hesitant to have him eliminated; sure Noah somehow managing to pull the wool over their eyes for as long as he did was infuriating, but it was also impressive. Like recognises like, and the two biggest schemers in the game can appreciate when they've been outplayed, aggravating as it is, especially when the person who bested them essentially used their own trickery against them. Also, though the two of them would never admit it, both Heather and Alejandro know that they'd honestly miss Noah's caustic company.
Of course, at this point in the competition Heather and Alejandro are still deep in their "rivalry" phase, so it takes the two of them a very convoluted and overcomplicated conversation to figure out that they both share the same sentiment concerning a certain cynic- since every encounter they have with each other is practically a game of backhanded compliments and dancing around the true meaning of their words. It takes even longer for them to come to an agreement, given how stubborn the both of them can be, but eventually they manage to co-operate.
Which is what leads to The Confrontation, the point in the story where the two fake dating plots merge into Heather and Alejandro putting aside their differences to rule the game together, utilizing Noah as their shared right hand man since he's shown a knack for strategy and subterfuge. After all, why would they want to get rid of the one person on the jet who's able to go toe-to-toe with them in terms of scheming, when they can instead keep him around as an accomplice?
At least, that's the excuse they both use. But the two of them internally can't deny that, even if it was all pretend, Noah wasn't a bad "boyfriend" by any means, and they genuinely enjoy his company. In turn, Noah's accepted that neither Heather nor Alejandro are as insufferable as he initially assumed, and that playing along with their grand plots is actually really fun. (And maybe he also likes the two of them, but Noah would never admit that.)
But there's a a whole cast's worth of people on the jet who the trio also have to consider in their plans; it would be super suspicious of all three of them if the flirting and Aleheather's animosity suddenly ceased. No matter how oblivious the rest of the competitors are, a sudden public change in their dynamic would be the equivalent of waving a huge red flag and screaming "hey, we're in an alliance, vote us out!" Very counterintuitive to their goal of winning the competition.
So the three of them resolve to act as they have been during challenges, and sneak off to the confessional when it's most convenient/feasible to do so, where they can plot and scheme away from the rest of the cast.
This means that, at least to everyone else in the game, Noah's still in this weird grey area where he's actively flirting with both Heather and Alejandro. Or, well, "flirting", since I imagine most of the advances would be initiated by the other party and Noah would play the part of the blushing damsel- or more accurately the begrudging but highly amused recipient, since I just can't conceptualise snarky, stoic Noah being the type to get flustered easily.
I imagine The Confrontation would happen somewhere around London timeline wise (it just feels like the most appropriate place to have a major shift in the plot happen, for obvious reasons), which would give the initial fake dating aspect of the AU time to run it's course without getting stale, and allow the three of them to establish their dynamic as a trio before the merge hits. It'd give Alenoaheather around five or six episodes worth of time to grow closer as a trio (from Greece's Pieces to Niagara Brawls, at least) and have their feelings grow and develop at a natural pace, to the point where they acknowledge that, perhaps, not all of the romantic tension between them is fake.
And then, of course, the Fake Cheating Arc happens. Noah's elimination is the catalyst for this section of the plot, which Perp and myself touched on pretty heavily in one of our reblog chains, and at this point in the story Alenoaheather are in a sort of vague kind-of-dating situation; the three of them know there's feelings there, but they're all more invested in the competition (and their manipulation of such) than trying to figure out what exactly is going on between them. Plus, World Tour takes place in 2010- concepts like polyamory weren't exactly common knowledge back then, so the three of them wouldn't have any basis of comparison for what their dynamic is/would be.
That, and the three of them are all fairly emotionally closed off, so getting them to admit genuine feelings for each other and show vulnerableness to anyone would be like pulling teeth. As it stands, they're fairly content to continue acting as a Trickster Trio, contented to leave whatever's going on between them unlabelled for the time being in favour of focusing their time and energy on winning the million. There's an unspoken understanding between the three of them; what they have is special, inconceptual and indescribable by mere words... which is mostly just an excuse for the three of them not to breach the subject, since they have the collective emotional intelligence of a spork.
That doesn't mean they don't love each other. Because they do, even if some of them (Heather and Alejandro) aren't exactly familiar with concepts like "unconditional love" and "loyalty/compassion for someone besides yourself" and "lowering your emotional walls and being the most genuine version of yourself in front of the people who care about you". It's a steep learning curve, but they're doing their best.
But that's besides the point; at this point in the plot, the trio are essentially a throuple in all but name at the point of Noah's elimination.
That's why his suggestion of playing off of his "cheating" is initially met with hesitance on Aleheather's part- they don't want the one person on the jet (besides each other) they actually care about to risk his reputation, but they also know that it's a strategically sound idea. There's a conflict of interest between their desire to win the competition by any means necessary, and the budding sense of empathy they've both began to develop as a result of their situationship.
Of course, they eventually agree to his plan, and then the whole Cheating Arc plays out as it's been explored previously.
Which means Noah's actual elimination ceremony is a very tense affair.
He's intentionally playing himself up as kind of a scumbag during it, since he wants both Heather and Alejandro to appear as sympathetic as possible to the remaining competitors, so the three of them stage an altercation during that day's challenge where Noah's caught out in his "cheating", and consequently "admits" that he's been playing the two of them and it's all ingenuine on his part, to direct the majority vote against him. It'd kill two birds with one stone that way; Noah gets himself eliminated without having to do much out of the ordinary, since he's already kind of an asshole so all he really has to do is play up that aspect of himself a little and lie about manipulating his partners, meanwhile Heather and Alejandro can reap the benefits of whatever brownie points they gain from being his "victims" by using their own manipulative prowess to adopt the role of the ex-villains, redeemed by their shared heartbreak. Or something equally melodramatic.
Noah doesn't really care about the specifics of it, he'll be long gone before his partners can start playing up their "betrayal and heartbreak", and then soon enough one of them will win the competition. And spoil him rotten with their money.
So, during the actual ceremony, Noah becomes persona non grata. No one wants to sit anywhere near him on the benches, and the remaining cast members form a protective wall between him and a distraught Heather, who sniffles back quiet tears every time her eyes wander too close to the cynic's slouching, impassive frame, and Alejandro who's sat eerily still and taut with disgraced fury, who's fiery green eyes haven't strayed from the burning glare he's shooting towards the bookworm.
Not that Noah's a stranger to receiving glares; the rest of the cast are also shooting him some downright murderous looks. Though he is impressed by his partners' acting abilities. He's also physically biting back pearls of laughter- the gritting of his teeth only serves to make him look unapologetically indignant, and thus more irredeemable in the eyes of their company- because every time Alejandro knows that no one's focus is on him, he sends his cerebral partner a cheeky wink and a smirk. The smug bastard.
Unsurprisingly, the vote is fairly unanimous. Chris doesn't even bother trying to raise suspense or tension by counting the votes, since the result is inevitable. That, and the atmosphere is already so tense and dramatic, the host is revelling in it. Chris even goes so far as complimenting Noah for outshining Duncan's cheating fiasco, showing the audience "what real relationship drama looks like", and maybe even congratulating Noah on almost being as heartless as he is.
He's escorted to the Drop of Shame, parachute backpack in tow, but before he can take the plunge he glances back at his audience. A raging sea of hostility greets him, but within the depths of animosity two shining beacons of light greet him. Alejandro and Heather shoot him a fleeting wave, the ghosts of smiles flickering across their features before they continue their flawless acts, but it's enough to reassure Noah that everything will be fine.
(Spoiler alert, things don't end up being fine for Noah.)
Of course this is all just an idea I'm spewing out. Nothing in this AU is set in concrete and it's always open to peer review or change. That's the beauty of public AUs; you can do whatever you want with them!
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