Treat You Better(Rigo Vasquez) Part I
Paring: Rigo Vasquez x Gibson!Reader
Summary: Jack Gibson fucked Rigo's wife, so Rigo fucks Jack's sister, but with y/n and Rigo it actually means something. Alternate universe where Rigo and his wife are separated during the time him and the reader sleep together - because my man isn't a cheater like his wife🙂↕️
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, infidelity, public sex, injuries, praise? Nicknames like cariña, closet sex sorta?
💙MasterList ML2 💙 part II
The first thing Rigo noticed about y/n Gibson was that she smiled at everyone. Not the polite kind of smile people put on because they had to - a real one. The kind that reached her eyes and gave her cheeks a beautiful rosey tent. Unfortunately for Rigo, she smiled at him a lot - which was a problem.
For a very long time, he had been married. No matter how complicated things got with Eva, no matter how many fights they had, no matter how many times she pushed boundaries just to get a reaction out of him, Rigo had never been the kind of man who cheated. Eva did enough cheating for the both of them. Still, he wasn't blind. Y/n was beautiful. And somehow completely different from the man who his wife was cheating on him with - who just happened to be her brother. Jack Gibson. He had a talent for creating chaos for himself and others while she'd had to go in and somehow fix it.
Looking back, he wasn't sure when he started looking forward to seeing her. Every time she walked into the station with that damn smile, his annoying little buzz revved up in his chest. At first, it was just a flicker of amusement. He'd watch her effortlessly charm the entire fire station, felt his chest tighten when she laughed at something he said, and then he started catching himself thinking about her at the worst times.
It started somewhere between her third? Fourth visit? And then by the fifth time she had called him out on his bullshit in that sharp, playful way of hers, and that flicker became a steady burn - that burn turned to a fire not even the bravest firefighter could put out.
He was dangerously screwed. Rigo was a man who had handled explosions, collapsing structures, and high-level rescues without breaking a sweat. But y/n - with her soft laugh, her sharp tongue, and a smile that could dismantle his entire moral compass was an emergency he hadn't been trained for. And it wasn't just physical attraction, though god knows she was gorgeous.
y/n Gibson - the sister of his wife's lover, the antithesis of everything his life had become - with anything resembling longing. But logic was shit against the way she looked at him.
Then the separation hit and the divorce went pen to paper after spending years navigating Eva’s particular brand of insanity. He signed them without hesitation - but that didn't mean that there wasn't an ache in his chest and a shake in his hand as the pen scribbled across the paper. Eva didn't sign them just despite him, proving she still knew how to taunt him. But suddenly, his mind drifted to y/n.
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The call itself wasn't serious. A vehicle collision, some debris, and a few firefighters getting knocked around - nothing life-threatening. Unfortunately It was enough to earn a mandatory trip to Grey Sloan Memorial. Rigo ended up getting introduced to a piece of asphalt face first. Which was how he found himself sitting in the ER with a cut on his cheek and enough road rash along his ribs to make putting on a shirt unpleasant. And just his dumb luck, y/n - Dr. Gibson was the assigned doctor.
Of all the doctors in the massive, sprawling hospital, it had to be her. It felt like a cosmic joke - the universe deciding that since his marriage had officially imploded, he needed to be tortured by the one woman who had been haunting his thoughts for months.
“Alright, tough guy,” y/n murmured, snapping on fresh gloves with that effortless, soothing professionalism that made the entire ER fall silent for her. “Let's see what we're working with”
She stepped between his knees, entirely too close, smelling like peonies and antiseptic. Rigo went instantly rigid, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn't just the proximity. She stepped closer, her fingers rested lightly against his jaw as she examined the injury. The cut along his cheekbone wasn't deep, but it would definitely need stitches.
Her gloved fingers were cool against his skin, but they still managed to burn right through him. He could smell that soft peony scent mixed with hospital soap, and his traitorous body decided that now was a perfect time to remember every single fantasy he'd had about her. Every stolen glance, every suppressed thought, every time he'd imagined what those fingers would feel like on bare skin.
Then antiseptic. The sting was sharp and immediate, making him hiss through his teeth. Her hand steadied against his jaw, her thumb brushing just below his ear in an unconscious gesture of comfort.
“Easy” y/n murmured, barely looking up from his face, her focus absolute as she cleaned the wound with practiced, gentle movements and for some reason her voice made him feel better. God, he was pathetic. Pathetic and addicted.
“It's nothing” he said, his voice rougher than intended. His eyes tracked her face instead of watching her work - the way her brow furrowed in concentration, the curve of her lips, the way her hair fell just barely out of her messy bun.
His hands gripped the side of the exam table. She looked up then, meeting his gaze directly for the first time. She cleared her throat, breaking that contact. “You're gonna need a few stitches, so it's something”
He huffed out a laugh that was mostly air, the tension in his shoulders finally dropping an inch. She was calling him out. Again. That sharp, playful intelligence that managed to cut through his self-imposed stoicism like a hot knife through butter. “A few stitches,” he echoed, his voice dropping lower. “Barely qualifies as an injury, Doc”
Y/n raised an eyebrow at him as she reached for the sterile suture kit. “Yet you're sitting here gripping the exam table like I'm about to amputate your leg” She tore the packet open with her teeth, her gaze flicking down to his white-knuckled hands.
His eyes followed the movement, watching her full lips wrap around those teeth, his mind immediately jumping to inappropriate conclusions. He forced himself to unclench his jaw and his hands, spreading his palms deliberately on the table instead. “I'm not afraid of a little needle, Doc”
“then stay still. I’d hate to give you a jagged scar on that pretty face of yours”
His breath hitched as she leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin as the needle pushed into his flesh. His hands clenched into fists again, but he managed to hold still for her - because fuck, if she thought his face was handsome, he'd sit through a dozen stitches without complaint.
He felt his gaze drag down to her lips again, his mind filling with all sorts of filthy things she could do with that mouth. He cleared his throat. “Jagged...” he smirked, trying to keep his voice steady, but the way her tongue darted out to wet her lip while she concentrated was absolutely destroying him. “Jagged is kinda sexy though, right?”
“told you not to move” y/n said instead, taking his between her fingers and thumb and turning his head herself.
He couldn't help it - his eyes fluttered shut as she touched him, her fingers warm and firm against his skin. He felt her breath on his cheek, smelled that peony scent again, and he was suddenly acutely aware of how close their faces were. His voice came out softer, almost vulnerable. “I'm not moving” he promised.
He watched her tie off the last stitch with surgical precision, her fingers dancing over his skin. The pain was barely a background noise compared to the electric current humming between them. The way she moved was hypnotic - each motion economical and graceful, her focus absolute, yet her touch remained surprisingly gentle. When she finally finished, she dabbed the area with more antiseptic, her thumb brushing along his cheekbone in a gesture that felt far too intimate for a doctor-patient interaction.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” y/n asked softly, finally meeting his eyes again.
She made his heart pound in chest in ways Eva never could. The air between them suddenly thick with tension. He couldn't look away from her - those warm eyes, the soft curve of her lips, the way those loose strands of hair fell around her face. He felt like a man starved, drinking her in like she was the only source of water for miles.
“Cause you're gorgeous” his voice low and rough as a smirk formed. His hand came up almost unconsciously, his thumb brushing against her knuckles where she was still holding his chin. Their faces were inches apart now, breaths mingling. The rest of the world fell away - the beeping of machines, the murmurs of nurses, none of it mattered.
Y/n broke first, pulling away as she cleared her throat. “Flattery won't get you anywhere, Vasquez” she says, throwing her gloves in the trash.
“Never stopped me before” he shrugged, watching her strip off the gloves with devastating efficiency. He knew that look - that professional boundary slamming back into place. But he also saw the flush in her cheeks, the way she couldn't quite hold his eye contact.
He slid off the exam table, testing the range of motion in his jaw before grabbing his shirt from the nearby chair. He didn't put it on yet, the banged up road rash on his ribs stinging too much, leaving his chest bare. He leaned back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes locked on hers with that infuriatingly confident smirk. “Does it work?”
“Wouldn't you like to know” she said almost daringly as she stared into his chocolate brown eyes.
Just as he opened his mouth the privacy curtain was yanked back. Jack stood there, hair tousled and wearing his turnout pants and a bandage around his left hand. He had practically run out of April Kepner's care like his ass was on fire when he found out who his sister's Patient was.
Rigo recognized that look instantly. Jack looked entirely too murderous - not to mention hypocritical. Rigo didn't flinch, keeping his arms crossed over his battered chest, completely shirtless. “Jack”
Jack ignored him completely, stepping straight through the curtain and locking eyes on his sister. “what's going on?”
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “nothing, what's going on with you?”
Jack's gaze flicked between them, taking in Rigo's bare torso and the intimate positioning - Rigo leaned back casually against the exam table while Y/n stood close, gloves off, looking flushed and rumpled. Jack's jaw tick as he wore that kicked puppy look he was nothing less of a master putting on. “nothing”
“Then can I get back to doing my job so you guys can get back to doing yours?” she asked, grabbing the clipboard next to him. She signed Rigo's discharge papers.
She handed Rigo the paperwork and some fresh bandages. “make sure you clean change the bandage”
He accepted the papers, his smirk shifting into something softer as he looked at her. “Yes, ma’am” he smirked.
Rigo could feel Jack’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head, practically vibrating with protective brotherly energy. That just made his shit eating grin grow right back, his attention fixed entirely on her as he slipped his fire department shirt back on. “Thanks, Doc”
She nodded, smiling. “any time”
Y/n turned to leave, squeezing her brother's shoulder as she passed by. “Love you” she told him and he quickly mumbled 'love you too'.
Rigo went to leave in the same direction and Jack blocked his way, sizing him up. He stared daggers into him. “Stay away from my sister”
Rigo chuckled darkly, not backing down from Jack's intimidation tactics. He stood his ground, his voice low and challenging. “like you stayed away from my wife?” He stepped closer, intentionally invading Jack's personal space.
Jack's nostrils flared, his hands balling into fists at his sides. For a second, Rigo thought he might actually hit him - but then Jack's expression crumpled, guilt and shame written all over his face. He stepped back, looking away as he walked past Rigo with his tail tucked.
Rigo watched him go, a twisted mix of satisfaction and hollow victory settling in his chest. He’d won the round, easily dismantling Jack with the truth, but it tasted like ash. The younger firefighter looked absolutely gutted, shoulders slumped as he disappeared through the curtains. Rigo's jaw ticked as he exited the ER.
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Rigo was leaning heavily against the brick wall outside the bar, definitely past tipsy and definitely not caring how dark it was that night. His fire department shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing the fine lines of his chest. His posture was sloppy, but he looked unfairly gorgeous - chocolate eyes glassy, hair messy, expression somewhere between drunk and miserable.
When he spotted her stepping out, the corner of his lips curled up. “What's up, Doc?”
Y/n sighed. “Rigo”
He was unsteady on his feet, but managed to push off from the wall and stumble over to her. She caught him by his biceps, trying to hold his large frame up. “Easy, tiger” she said, noticing the strong scent of whiskey on his breath.
He leaned heavily into her, his entire weight practically collapsing against her smaller frame. He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in like she was the only thing grounding him to the planet. The sharp, clean scent of her hair cut through the whiskey fogging his brain. “You smell good” he slurred, his arms wrapping loosely around her waist to keep himself upright.
“Alright,” she said, pulling him away and keeping him at arms length. “How much have you had to drink?”
His eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide. He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “Lost count” He grinned, lopsided and boyish despite everything. He swayed dangerously, and she had to grab his forearm to keep him from toppling over.
“okay, you're not driving”
He let out a drunken laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. He looked at her, his eyes glazing over even more. “You gonna take me home with you, Doc?” He stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a low murmur.
Y/n snorted, shaking her head. “Yeah, you wish”
He leaned in closer, invading her space with a drunk confidence, bracing one hand against the brick wall beside her head. “I don’t wish,” he slurred, grinning down at her. “I know”
He swayed, his nose almost brushing hers. “Take me home. Pretty please,” He batted his eyelashes ridiculously. “Be a good doctor”
She pulled back, the heat of his breath brushed against her cheeks. “I don't do house calls”
He pouted, actually sticking his bottom lip out in a way that was downright pathetic. “That’s malpractice,” he grumbled, swaying so heavily he nearly tipped over.
Then a set of headlights pulled up to the curb. Y/n had ordered an Uber a few minutes ago. Jack took her to work that morning and Joe's was just across the street. It was perfect timing really. She pointed toward the vehicle, leading Rigo with her. “Good. Problem solved”
She yanked the door to the back seat open “Get in the car”
He laughed, the sound sloppy and loud as he stumbled back the exact opposite of the way she wanted. “No”
“You're drunk” she gave him a look, raising an eyebrow. When he protested again y/n sighed and patted around his pants then reached into his front pockets, making his hips twitch when she got dangerously close to his junk.
He let out a low whistle, eyes widening with interest even in his drunken state. “waoh, buy me dinner first”
She pulled out his wallet and keys, ignoring his stupid drunken grin. She tossed his belongings through the car window on the passenger side. “His address is on the ID, get him home in one piece will ya?” she told the driver.
The Uber driver nodded, watching as Y/n gently but firmly shoved the firefighter towards the open door. Rigo stumbled into the car, his head lolling against the seat as he watched her through bleary eyes. The driver pulled away from the curb, and Rigo muttered something incoherent under his breath before falling back against the seat with a heavy thud.
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Two weeks later Rigo found himself back at Grey-Sloan. He was seated on the exam bed, shirt stripped down to his turnout pants, looking unfairly gorgeous even with a bloody gash across his forehead. The smoke inhalation had his throat raspy, making him lean back with exhausted resignation. Then the curtain whipped back, revealing Y/n looking breathtaking in scrubs, clipboard in hand. She froze the second she saw him. “we really gotta stop meeting like this”
He offered a low, raspy chuckle that immediately turned into a wet cough, his chest heaving slightly with the effort of expelling the smoke from his lungs. He leaned back on one hand, the other wiping at the drying blood near his eyebrow. His chocolate eyes locked onto hers, exhausted but warm. “What can I say, Doc” His voice was gravelly.
“You know... There are other ways to get my attention” She stepped fully inside, letting the curtain snap shut behind her to give them privacy. She moved efficiently, pulling on a pair of gloves and reaching for his chin to tilt his head up toward the light.
He let her tilt his head, his eyes fluttering closed briefly before snapping open again to meet hers. His strong jaw clenched under her touch, and he inhaled deeply through his nose, catching her scent. A faint smirk played at the corners of his mouth. “So you're saying there's a chance?” he smirked, his voice low and raspy.
His gaze dropped to her lips for a brief moment before snapping back up to her eyes. He held perfectly still under her touch, even as his pupils dilated slightly with interest. The air between them grew thick with unspoken tension.
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully as she cleaned the wound with an antiseptic, making him hiss when the liquid stung his cut. His eyes tracked every movement - the way her hair was pulled back, the slight crease between her brows in concentration, the way her lips parted just slightly when she focused. His jaw clenched tight when the sting hit, but he didn't pull away. He was mesmerizingly focused on her, his gaze tracing the slope of her nose and the flutter of her lashes.
The silence settled between them was broken when Rigo cleared his throat softly. “I never thanked you”
She was caught off guard momentarily “for what?”
“for getting me home that night” his voice was low, sincere. He reached up, gently catching her wrist with his large hand when she fished up the bandage. His thumb brushed over her pulse point, his touch light but deliberate as his eyes searched hers.
She felt her pulse jump under his thumb, her breath catching at the unexpected contact. “That's just... What I do” she replied quietly, trying to sound professional but her voice came out softer than intended.
She didn't pull away, letting him hold her wrist as he searched her eyes. The tension in the small room thickened, crackling with everything they'd left unsaid. “You didn't have to,” he rasped, his gaze dropping to her lips again before forcing its way back up to her eyes. “You could’ve left me on the sidewalk, Doc”
The thought hit her like a physical blow just by him thanking her for basic human decency when he deserved the world. She looked at him - sitting there vulnerable, bloodied, and still looking at her with those soulful, intense chocolate eyes - she couldn't comprehend how anyone could throw this away. How Eva could look at a man this loyal, this devastatingly handsome, this genuinely good, and choose to shatter him.
“I wouldn't have left you there” - that seemed to have multiple meanings now.
He moved before either could react and his lips captured hers. It wasn't gentle or tentative - it was desperate, immediate, and overwhelmingly needy. His large hand slid up her to cradle her jaw, threading his fingers into her hair. He kissed her like a starving man, pouring weeks of heartbreak, loneliness, and sudden overwhelming adoration into the movement. He tasted like smoke and mint gum.
Y/n didn't pull away, her hands instinctively found purchase on his shoulders. She kissed him back with equal ferocity, as one of her hands slid into the hair at the nape of his neck to hold him there. The smell of smoke mingled with the sterile scent of the hospital, creating a dizzying contrast.
Unfortunately reality had to hit. She pulled back, breaking the kiss to rest her forehead against his. “Not here” she whispered.
He let out a shaky breath, his fingers flexing gently in her hair before sliding down to rest on the back of her neck. He pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of her mouth before nodding in understanding. His pupils were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly as he tried to catch his breath.
They stared at each other, chests rising and falling rapidly, lips swollen from the kiss. The curtain could've been paper thin for all they cared - the world shrank to just this moment, just their faces inches apart. Rigo looked wrecked but happier than she'd ever seen him.
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The evening shift at Station 19 was quieter than usual. Most of the crew lingered in the common area when y/n had stopped by. She came through the bay doors carrying a black firefighter helmet tucked against her hip. She had found it sitting on a counter in the ER after Rigo had left that afternoon. His name was written in bold letters across the back.
VASQUEZ.
Ben spotted her first and a grin spread across his face immediately. “Well, look who it is”
Y/n narrowed her eyes. “Don't start”
Ben held up his hands in surrender, though that grin didn’t waver an inch. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his ankles. “I’m not saying a word. He's in the gear room”
She thanked him and headed down the hallway, ignoring the knowing look Vic sent her over the back of the couch. Maya Bishop didn't have any room to talk - she too had fallen for one of the many pretty faces of Grey-Sloan memorial. She smirked into her coffee cup anyway. She still thought Rigo was an ass though. Station 19 had become very invested in y/n's personal life apparently.
She paused outside the gear room door and knocked lightly against the frame.
“Come in,” The voice was instantly recognizable - low, warm, and unmistakably Rigo. Inside, he was stripped down to his black station t-shirt and uniform pants, folding a turnout coat onto the rack. He looked unfairly gorgeous, shoulders broad and muscles shifting effortlessly. When he turned and saw her, his expression softened instantly. “Hey”
Y/n lifted the helmet. “You left this in my ER”
His eyes dropped immediately to the black helmet in her hands, recognizing his name printed boldly across the back. A slow, genuine smile broke across his face - that devastatingly handsome expression that made knees weak.
“Guess I did” he muttered affectionately, stepping forward and taking it from her. His fingers brushed hers deliberately.
He tapped his own helmet lightly, tucking it under his arm. The motion brought him intimately close, his broad frame boxing her in against the doorframe. “Pretty important thing to forget... Can't have you hurt again”
“Yeah well, I was distracted” he replied softly, leaning closer so only she could hear. His free hand came to rest against the wall beside her head, not trapping her but definitely creating intimacy. His eyes flicked down to her mouth briefly before coming back up to her eyes.
Her eye brow arched, daring him. “Oh yeah? What's got you all distracted?”
“You” he answered honestly, his voice low and husky. His eyes never left hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her lips. “You've been fucking with my head for months” His thumb traced her jawline gently.
Her breath hitched as her eye lashes fluttered against her rosy cheeks. “why don't you do something about it?”
The challenge was all he needed. His lips crashed onto hers, hungry and demanding, stealing the air from her lungs instantly. He dropped the helmet on the nearby bench with a loud clatter, his hand immediately gripping her waist to pull her flush against him. He kissed her like he was starving, backing her gently against the metal cubicle that held his gear. The metal clattered behind him as he poured weeks of unspoken tension into the moment.
He hoisted her effortlessly onto the edge of the metal shelf, stepping firmly between her knees to pin her in place. His large hand splayed against her lower back, pressing her flush against his hard chest while the other tangled deep into her hair, angling her head to deepen the kiss. He swallowed her soft gasp, tasting her with a desperate, consuming heat that made her head spin.
“Wait,” Y/n pulled away with her fits curled into his shirt, catching her breath. “Lock the door” she whispered.
The command had his blood rushing south. He didn't hesitate. One long stride took him to the door where he twisted the lock with a decisive click that echoed in the small room. When he turned back, his eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with lust and something deeper - relief, maybe adoration. He stalked back to her, slow and deliberate like a predator claiming its prize.
He didn't give her a moment to recover. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her to the very edge of the shelf until she was perfectly aligned with him. The heat radiating between them was suffocating in the best way possible. He leaned down, capturing her lips again, slower this time but infinitely deeper, savoring the taste of her.
“I’m obsessed with you” y/n shuddered, kissing and nipping down his jaw and hollow of his throat, making his head tipped back instantly. A guttural groan tearing from his throat as her teeth scraped against the sensitive skin of his neck.
His fingers dug into her hips, anchoring her to him while his eyes slid shut in pure ecstasy. The feeling of her mouth on him was addictive, sending electric currents down his spine. “You’re gonna kill me, cariña” he rasped, his voice vibrating against her lips.
Her hands slid under his t-shirt, her palms flat against the heated skin of his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles contracted under her touch. She kissed a burning trail down his chest, her fingers catching the hem of his shirt. He lifted his arms obligingly, letting her pull it off and drop it carelessly to the floor.
She's seen him before, but this time - this situation hit her like a physical blow. Rugged, broad, and absolutely devastating. Sculpted muscle defined his chest, shoulders, and abdomen, old firefighting scars mapping a history of heroics over his tanned skin. His dark hair was perfectly messy, eyes locked on her with pure, worshipful desperation. He watched her with bated breath as she explored his body, her touch gentle yet firm. When she leaned down to press a kiss to the center of his chest, right over his heart, he thought he might actually die from the tenderness of it.
His hand gripped the back of her neck, pulling her mouth back to his. “Come here”
He kissed her deeply, his body pressing against hers as he tried to convey everything he was feeling - desire, adoration, relief, possession. His hands roamed her body possessively, pulling her flush against him so she could feel exactly what she did to him. This wasn't just lust. This was everything. “Too many clothes”
He wasted no time. His large hands found the hem of her scrub shirt, dragging it upward and over her head in one smooth motion, letting it join his on the floor. The cool air of the gear room hit her skin, but was instantly replaced by the scorching heat of his palms as he mapped out her waist, ribs, and back.
“You’re gorgeous”
He dipped his head immediately, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone and down the swell of her chest, worshipping every inch of exposed skin. His hands were everywhere, spanning her waist, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts, tracing the curve of her spine like he was memorizing a map. He looked at her like she was the only thing that existed in his universe.
Her fingers curled into his hair, her back arching off the metal cubical. “Rigo, I need you” she said desperately, tugging his belt open. He growled, his hands immediately moving to help her. His belt clanked as he shoved his pants down just enough to free himself.
Y/n's broken pleas destroyed him. He caught her mouth in a devastating kiss, swallowing her needy sounds. His large hands hooked into the waistband of her scrub pants and underwear, stripping them down her legs in one fluid motion.
His hands curled under her thighs, lifting her up on his hips. Her legs locked around him instantly, pulling him flush against her - naked skin against naked skin. “I've got you, cariña”
One hand gripped her hip while the other guided himself to where she was aching for him. He pushed inside slowly, inch by torturous inch, watching her face the whole time. Her head fell back, broken moans escaping their lips in perfect sync as he stretched her open. He leaned in, kissing down her throat, groaning against her skin.
“fuck, you feel so good” y/n whined breathlessly, her nails digging into his back as she adjusted to his size.
He paused, giving her a moment to adjust, his forehead resting heavily against hers while he fought to maintain control. “Breathe, cariña” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her sweating temple. His hips rolled forward slowly, sinking deeper until he was fully sheathed.
“R-rigo” she shuddered, biting her lip before he could draw a shattered cry from her throat.
That unraveled whatever restraint he had left. He pulled back and thrust forward in one brutal stroke, claiming her completely. A broken moan tore from her throat as her back arched against the cold metal shelves, knocking something over behind them. He didn't care. Nothing else existed but her.
“Hold onto me”
He hooked one arm under her knee, anchoring her legs higher around his waist, and began to move with a deep, urgent rhythm. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, broken moans, and the occasional clanking of gear from the shelves behind them. Her head fell back against the metal shelf, mouth falling open in silent ecstasy as he hit that perfect spot inside her over and over again. His grip on her thigh was bruising, holding her open while he drove into her with relentless precision.
“Right there, don't s-stop” she whined.
He could die happy hearing her broken pleas. “Never” he growled through clenched teeth, his pace increasing. The metal shelf rattled violently behind her with each thrust. Damp strands of hair falling over his forehead as he watched her breasts bounce with each snap of his hips.
“Cariña, look at me” His voice was rough, almost desperate. She forced her eyes open, locking onto his - his pupils black, breathing ragged, lips parted. The intensity of it sent shivers down her spine. “Look at me when you come”
Her walls clenched around him at his words, and he groaned like it physically hurt. He hitched her leg higher, changing the angle and hitting that spot deep inside her that made her eyes roll back. His thrusts became erratic, chasing his own release as he watched her fall apart. “Come for me. Now!”
The command snapped something tight inside her. Her body bowed off the shelf, a shattered scream tearing from her throat as the pleasure crested and broke, drowning her completely. Her walls clenched around him like a vice, triggering his own undoing. Then with a guttural roar of her name, he buried himself to the hilt and let go, pulsing hot and deep inside her.
He collapsed forward, catching himself on the shelf above her head to keep his weight off her. Their chests heaved in sync, sweat mixing between their bodies. His forehead rested against hers as they both came down from the high. He kissed her softly, gently this time - a stark contrast to their brutal moments before.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, taking in her flushed cheeks, bitten lip, and the satisfied haze in her eyes. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. His softening cock slid out of her, followed by a rush of their combined release. He brushed the messy hair off her forehead with infinite tenderness, pressing slow, worshipful kisses against her temple, nose, and mouth. This wasn't just sex; this was devotion. “I’ve got you,” he whispered softly, reaching for his shirt off the floor to clean her up with incredibly gentle hands, treating her like something precious. “You okay, cariña?”
“y-yeah,” y/n said, her heart rate still deciding rather or not is gonna settle. “I feel amazing” she reached for him, her fingers brushing up against the scruff of his jaw before settling against his cheek. He turned into her touch like a cat, his eyes fluttering closed at the simplicity of it. He was still hard for her - not physically now, but emotionally. Completely undone. He couldn't remember the last time he was touched like this.
“she never deserved you,” y/n said softly, her thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “how dose she fuck up so bad”
His breath hitched at her words. No one had ever defended him like that before - especially not in bed, moments after intense sex. He caught her thumb with his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it before speaking against her skin. “She did me a favor... Brought me to you”
That absolute honesty made her chest ache. He wasn't bitter; he was settled. Completely sure that the universe had ripped him apart and rearranged him specifically to land in her arms. He leaned into her touch, pressing soft kisses against her palm, wrapping himself around her heart in a way nobody else ever had. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, cariña”
Y/n felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by his sincerity and tenderness. Without another word, she pulled him into a deep kiss - not passionate or demanding, but slow and meaningful, pouring all her emotions into it. He melted into her, arms wrapping around her waist as he held her close.
When they finally broke apart, he was smiling softly against her lips - genuinely smiling in a way he hadn't in months. She made him feel seen, wanted, valued... not just as a body or a provider, but as a man with feelings and desires. He felt like the luckiest man in the world, having stumbled into a love like this.
