#(so i have to spend time trouble shooting it back to life)

[yanderedrabbles]

This is a thought I’ve had ever since i read your yandere outlaws story: what if you (try to) run away with one of the outlaws���could you even do that…. Would the poor guy even survive if you two get caught

Which of the yandere outlaws would run away with you?

CW: noncon, violence, knife play

You can't exactly ask the boss to run away with you. He's got responsibilities, authority. His men rely on him. If he wasn't the boss though? Yeah, in that case his loyalty would stretch very far at all.

The gunslingers absolutely would. But is it really a good idea? Without the boss around, there's no one keeping them in check. How much tighter will their grip be, with no one to scold them for the bruises?

They're the type to make you earn their help, and then force you to keep paying off that favour for the rest of your life.

"Mighty dangerous thing you're askin' pretty."

"How you gonna compensate us for our trouble?"

The wrangler absolutely wouldn't. Which is a real pity, since he's probably the only one with the skills to evade tracking. But he's also loyal to a fault.

"I wish I could beauty, but there are some debts that can never be repaid."

The kid, hmm. Yes. Maybe. It depends on how much time they give him. The outlaws know he's still soft, so I don't think they'll leave him alone with you for too long. He's young and guilty. You can definitely manipulate him.

"I'll...I'll do it. Just don't tell anyone, 'kay?"

The second in command, the man who claims to love you. You'd think all it would take is batting your pretty eyes and asking him to take you away from all this. And you'd be partly right. If it was any other gang, he'd be gone with you by morning.

But despite all their flaws, these outlaws are his brothers. He owes the boss his loyalty.

He's also a practical man. He knows it will be considered a betrayal. And the boss isn't one to let that slide. Even if he did make it out with you, he'd spend his whole life looking over his shoulder. And what kind of life is that?

"No. You belong here. Nowhere else."

But let's ignore all of that and assume you do manage to run away. How will the outlaws react to you and the traitor?

The boss will shoot them. It doesn't matter who. And then he'll bend you over the nearest thing and fuck some sense into you. Rough this time. Not holding back. You've proven kindness is wasted on you. Anal probably, dry and unprepped.

You realise for the first time exactly how thin his patience is. How cold and terrifying his anger. He'll be clipped and curt the entire time. "Move it." "C'mere." "Suck it." No sweet pet names this time, no treating you like his little girl. You want that softness? You're going to have to earn it back.

The gunslingers will make a game of it. Say whoever finds you gets to have you all week. They'll kill the traitor slow. Maybe leave him out for the ants and coyotes. And then they'll tell the boss you need to be punished.

They're the kind of bastards who'll slap a knife against your pussy just to see you shiver, scrape the tip against your inner thighs. Never drawing blood but always getting oh so close. 

Double penetration too, until you're too cock drunk and hurt to even think about running.

The wrangler is the one who can track you down the fastest and also the first one to figure out if you're plotting something. He won't tell the others. He'll just follow you and come out of the dark like a ghost. Shotgun levelled right at your heart. He won't kill the traitor, but the cold glint in his eyes shows you exactly how close he is to doing it.

When he gets you home, he'll make you sleep in his bed. So if anyone mentions your absence, he can say you were with him.

He won't be angry with you. Instead, he'll just hold you. His chin on the crown of your head as you sob into his chest.

"I'm sorry beauty. But there really is no way out. Wherever you run, I will always find you."

If it's the boy who finds you, it's a toss up. He might let you go, might remember how much you cried that first day. He might still be a good person at heart.

Or, he might see this as his opportunity to finally earn the rest of your body. That's what the gunslingers said, remember? If he wants to fuck you, he needs to earn it. And what better way than to bring you home?

The second in command almost never gets angry, but this time? He doesn't even bother with a gun. He kills the traitor with a knife. Rips his throat out and leaves him to bleed out on the desert sand.

He's explosive. Grabs you by the jaw and throws you against the wall. Kisses you before you can fall, ripping your clothes off with one hand. He's the worst of them all when it comes down to it. His anger making him twice as cruel and thrice as callous.

He fucks you with the other man's blood still splattered across his face.

"You wanna be like that? Don't like it when I'm nice? Fine."

He'll fuck you dry, his hand around your throat the entire time. His lips just the tiniest bit away from yours, just watching the fear and the tears. Revelling in them. When you're done, he shoves you down on the bed.

"Open your fucking mouth."

He'll make you suck the blood and come off his cock, pulling your hair so hard it gives you a migraine.

He'll grab your jaw so hard the bones ache, and yank you up to his lips.

"I'll fucking kill you next time."

You believe him. 

[ki-yomii]

personal taste | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 1.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; established relationship, teasing, bent in half, premature ejaculation, implied cum play, implied oral (f receiving), inexperienced!jk ➥ summary | jungkook gets a little too excited and cums early, but he's more than happy to make it up to you. ➥ notes | ✌️idk man, its 2 am. i hope you enjoy lol

���� masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

It was safe to say Jungkook wasn’t the most experienced of lovers when you first get together. Idol life consumed his adolescence, and by the time he’s a young adult, too many eyes are on his every waking move.

A quick affair is rarely worth the effort, and the ones that are leave much to be desired. Relegated to liquor-soaked make-out sessions, and quick, dirty fucks that leave him filled with more sweat and regret than satisfaction.

You’d only been dating a few months when he divulged why he got so jumpy any time your hand grazed his thigh, why he broke off your kisses before they got too heated.

He was adorably shy when he expressed how anxious he was about his performance in the bedroom; how the reality might not live up to your expectations.

But he shouldn’t have worried, having more than made up for any shortcomings with his eager to please attitude and boundless enthusiasm.

The number of times you’ve had sex since getting together can be counted on one hand, but he’s leaps and bounds ahead of where he was when you first started being intimate.

It certainly helps that Jungkook is a dedicated student; throwing himself, as he does with everything in life, full throttle into any and all efforts to learn the secrets of your body.

A quick learner, it isn’t long before he can make you cum with a skillful twist of his fingers, a harsh rut of the hips that settles him so deep inside your pussy, your thighs tremble.

Not only is he able to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you, his stamina is insane. Almost to the point where you’re having trouble keeping up with him, having to take little breaks between rounds to gulp down water and catch your breath. 

So… when it happens, it’s altogether unexpected.

But so fucking filthy hot you’re pretty sure you astral project to a higher plane of existence. 

You’d been teasing him all day: the brush of your hand across his ass, the skim of your knuckles over the crotch of his pants, pressing close against the wide berth of his back and whispering soft, nasty little nothings into his ear.

Delighting in the blush that crept up the sides of his neck. The cherry red burn of his ears as he gulped, readjusting himself before shooting you a glare.

Jungkook lasts longer than you give him credit for, though that’s most likely due to his competitive streak. He breaks all the same; however, shoving you into his bedroom as soon as the door to his apartment closes behind you.

So needy and desperate he can’t wait any longer, even if the rest of the boys are due to arrive in an hour.

You only just got undressed, the bed creaking under the combination of your weights when he cages you beneath him. His chest flexes with every hurried breath, his ribs expanding with labored puffs of air. His cock bullies its way inside your pussy, hips slotting into place against yours.

“J-Jungkook,” you whine, your toes digging into his sides as your thighs fall open across his. “So deep, I - haaah -”

The fat head of his cock nudges against your cervix with every little rut, sparks of pain fissioning out and deepening the warmth fizzling behind your belly button.

Thick and long, he stuffs your pussy to the brim every time without fail, stretching you wide until tears cling to your lashes and your nails dig into his shoulders.

It hurts no matter how long he spends prepping you, but you like it better this way. The pain only enhances the pleasure; deepens, and darkens.

And knowing he has to force his cock those last few inches because your pussy can’t take it without assistance always riles you up.

Makes you needy and desperate to take everything he can give like a good girl.

“Mm, I know, baby,” Jungkook’s breath hitches as his teeth tug on his lip ring, his eyes - half lidded and greedy - shadowed by the sweaty curtain of his bangs, “Feels so ffuh - fucking good inside you.”

“Hhn!” Your fingers inch up the corded muscles of his forearms, caressing over the whorls of ink as they shackle themselves to his elbows as he bends you in half. “Right there, right there. Jus like - ohmygod! - like that.”

Jungkook grunts, rocking into the cradle of your hips harder, the shaft of his cock dragging almost completely out only to slide to the hilt in one thrust. His pelvis grinds against the swollen bud of your clit as he holds himself there, your slick smearing into his skin.

He curses under his breath when your walls flutter, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Shit! Don’t - don’t do that, baby. I can’t - hnggg - I can’t -”

And then his cock throbs hard once, twice.

A litany of soft, breathy exhalations of pure pleasure accompanies the slick echo of your bodies crashing together. Then his head bends low, the dark briar of his hair clinging to his temples. His jaw drops slack, and a devastated moan punches out of his throat.

Muscles ripple into a full body shiver, Jungkook’s sharp hips stuttering against the backs of your thighs. Sticky warmth floods your cunt, and his hazy, lust-blown eyes stare into yours as he pumps you full of cum.

You groan, blinking up at him, “Did you just-?”

Jungkook’s arms buckle.

Flopping down onto you, a sweaty, panting mess, he tucks his hot face into the crook of your neck. Moist breath puffs across your skin, a ticklish awareness skittering down your spine. Goosebumps rise along your arms.

His heartbeat hammers against your ribs.

“Yeah, I - I…” Jungkook huffs, his nose dragging over the length of your collarbone, tongue flicking over your skin when he licks his lips. “I did. ‘m sorry, baby.”

Breathing in through your nose, you card a hand through his sweaty hair. Swallow down the pleading whines sitting on the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to embarrass him any more than he probably is.

He hasn’t cum this quick since the early days, and you’d rather not ruin the evening by making him spiral.

So even when your pussy flutters, trapped on the edge of an orgasm as his cum leaks out of you, you bite down on your impulses. Resign yourself to being horny for the foreseeable future until you can sneak away and take care of yourself with a vibrator.

“It’s alright, Kook. It happens.”

Your eyes close, and you breathe through your nose, trying to calm the gallop of your heartbeat.

Relaxing seems almost impossible with Jungkook’s constant shifting, but you try your best to get your body on the same page as your mind.

Only for all efforts to go to waste when Jungkook shimmies down between your thighs. The tips of his hair tickle your skin, your lower belly jumping at the sensation.

Furrowing your brow, you peek down at your boyfriend. “Kook, what’re you--?”

Broad palms caress your hips, Jungkook using his thumbs to trace over the jut of bone. His chest glitters under the light, the muscles shifting under his skin almost mesmerizing as he settles on his belly. Forearms hook over the tops of your thighs, and his dark eyes flash with hunger.

His mouth pulls up into an impish smirk. “Can I?” he asks, dropping his gaze to the apex of your thighs. “Please?”

He giggles when he sees how flustered you get. Syrupy sweet, boyish; altogether too endearing for the current circumstances.

“...Are you serious?”

You can’t deny the fresh wave of desire the thought brings - Jungkook with his thick fingers, his tender mouth and soft tongue stroking over swollen, abused flesh - but flap a hand between your bodies in a vague gesture all the same.

“Isn’t that kind of - you just, y’know?”

You aren’t the only one affected by the idea, Jungkook’s cock jerking feebly where it rests against his thigh. A pink tongue flicks out to run along the length of his red-bitten bottom lip, toying with his lip ring as his teeth sink into the soft flesh.

He regards you with predatory anticipation.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’ve always wondered what we taste like. Please let me.”

Well… who are you to refuse?

[iwantazzifudd]

Hi friends, this is my first ever attempt at writing anything here and it’s a Pazzi oneshot, I’m honestly nervous that it’s bad but I’ve been inspired 🤗 it’s also my first attempt at any fiction writing in general and why was this actually a bit difficult?!

PaigexAzzi fluff

Surprise!

Paige was trying her best to not freak out about the lack of messages from Azzi today but it was just so odd.. they always spoke and made time for each other even when the had to be away.

Paige tried to tell herself that Az was probably just busy, but she couldn’t help but pace around her room wondering if she did something wrong. Or worse, wondering if Azzi met a cooler California girl during her brief trip to the state.

She knew that she was irrational to think that way but just as she started to get out of her head and message her girlfriend, she realized that Azzi had stopped sharing her location, and that’s what officially sent Paige over the edge. She couldn’t tell if she should be sad or angry, so she chooses the latter and makes it the rest of her teammates problems.

Kk, Ice and Sarah had all agreed to stay over for the week Azzi would be gone to give Paige some company, and to spend some quality time with the older girl. Today though they maybe regretting staying the entire week. When The blonde stepped out of her room the girls immediately realized something was wrong, and they shared a worried look.

“Hey boogers everything alright” KK asked hesitantly, scared of making Paige even more upset. “Peachy.” Paige responded shortly. “All of you do me a favor and check Azzi’s location” this request just made the other girls even more worried. “Mm looks like she turned it off” and when ice saw the look in Paige’s eye she immediately regretted being the one to answer.

Paige nodded, nervously nibbling at lip in response. “Where the hell is she at?” the crack in her voice betrayed the cold front she tried to put on. Inside her mind was on a rampage tossing over ideas of where the curly haired girl may be and why she needed to be so secretive.

Saying nothing else to her teammates, she grabbed a jacket and headed out of the apartment. Needing some space, some air, anything to get her mind off of Azzi.

It’s not that she didn’t trust her girlfriend, in fact if there was any person in the world she could trust with her life it would be Azzi. She just couldn’t help but think the worse, and Azzi having not messaged her back in hours didn’t help her case.

…

Azzi, not knowing what her best friend was going through, was thrilled on the other hand. She was so excited to surprise Paige a few days early. With them being on the same team and seeing each other at almost every moment surprises were impossible so Azzi had to make sure Paige didn’t see this one coming. ‘I don’t see why she’d check my location anyway’ the girl thought to herself (though she knew that Paige frequently did) , so she turned it off and got on her long flight back without a second thought.

It had barely been 4 days since Azzi had seen her girlfriend but she just couldn’t wait any longer.

She had to fly out to LA for a new very impressive shoe deal with Steph Curry, doing all types of shoots and interviews for her favorite NIL deal yet. It meant more than just a simple deal to her though with Steph being a great mentor, she had little to no trouble agreeing to designing her own shoe.

But throughout the whole thing as special as it may of been Azzi just wanted to fly back to her girlfriend. 4 mornings not spent waking up in Paige’s arms was way too much for her.

She called the blonde everyday she was gone, and honestly she would talk to her every second if she could, but she was always worried about being too clingy and scaring Paige away, although there was no way that’d ever happen.So on the fifth day Azzi didn’t call Paige, she kept their texts short and tried to stay patient, knowing that she’d be back home with her early that morning.She got on her flight and dreamed about Paige the whole way through. Although two days early wasn’t much she was longing to see her beautiful girlfriend.

…

Distracting herself from thoughts of Azzi had proven to be impossible. She saw the peoples princess in everything, even the soft breeze of wind made her think of the long walks they’d take filled with lingering touches. She thought of the way the brown eyed girls hair danced in the wind, and the pink tint her cheeks took in the cold. Azzi was in everything. And how could she not be? When you know someone so purely, so closely for 8 years they become everywhere.

She just wish she knew where Azzi was at, anything to clear her thoughts. When she sent a few more texts, and even a call or a few to be clear, that went to voicemail she finally let the emotions take over. She knew she was over reacting just a bit but this just wasn’t them. Paige knows her girlfriend better than any one. They never kept secrets from each other and always always, always gave reassurance to one another. So Paige just didn’t get it.

She walked her way back to the apartment building and instead of going to her room she decided to go into Azzi’s instead. Paige had a spare key to the place and made herself at home. Honestly most people thought it was strange that they still had different apartments considering the fact that they spent every night together anyway.

The blonde girl made her way to Azzi’s bed wanting nothing but to be enveloped in her scent. She was exhausted from thinking and most of all just really missed her girlfriend.

She sent the absent girl one last text before drifting to sleep.

P 💗💍: just tell me that we’re okay Az please.

…

When Azzi got of her flight at around 3 am she didn’t expect her phone to flood with notifications. She had received a total of 7 missed calls and god knows how many messages from her concerned girlfriend all during her flight.

P💗💍: Hey baby Ik you’re probably busy but call me soon k? I miss u

P💗💍: just saw your interview you looked so beautiful

P💗💍: what else u gotta do today bby??

P💗💍: wya??

P💗💍:Azzi?

P💗💍: dude and your locations off what am I supposed to think rn

P💗💍: you mad at me?

P💗💍: Az please baby it’s been hours and nothing, not even one text back

P 💗💍: just tell me that we’re okay Az please.

The last message is what really broke Azzi’s heart a bit. Paige was so upset. She didn’t know attempting a surprise would cause all of this. She even received numerous messages from her teammates about how Paige was doing.

“Shit” Azzi said to herself hoping that when Paige saw her she’d still be excited. The younger girl was mad at herself for not thinking this part through more and coming up with an excuse so her girlfriend could relax. She was even hurt for a moment that Paige implied she could be cheating, but even more than that she hated that Paige thought she did something wrong.

She had to get home quick.

…

When Azzi finally reached Paige’s apartment she wasn’t expecting to see her 3 teammates on the couch binge watching yellow jackets, but no Paige.

“Oh my gosh Azzi!!” Kk jumped up from her position on the couch oddly excited to see Azzi giving her a bear hug. “Hey KK” she giggled at the girls antics but she was disappointed that there was no Paige in sight. “Ugh finally we’re so glad you’re here Paige was panicking. Why are you back so early?” Ice asked. “Well I planned on surprising my girl but.. obviously there were some flaws in my execution” “where is she by the way” Azzi asked expectantly becoming worried at her girlfriend’s absence.

“Oh, um - so she sorta left on a walk earlier and hasn’t come back to the apartment” their third teammate Sarah chimed in.

“She what?? You guys?!” Azzi became frantic.

“And no one thought to check in on her, or see where she was at?” Azzi’s questions were only met with guilty stares from the eyes in front of her.

“Jesus” she rubbed her palm down her face.

“I’ll find her, love you guys” and she left to her apartment without a glance back to them.

She was shocked to find the door to her apartment unlocked, and her bedroom door slightly cracked open. She crept towards the door suddenly paranoid and slowly opened it. Her heart melted when she saw her stunning girlfriend cuddling a pillow on her side of the bed. She slipped in beside the girl setting the gifts she got her down, and whether she meant to or not, she fell asleep spooning her.

Azzi woke up before Paige and spent the time admiring her girlfriends face peacefully sleeping. The anticipation made it hard to be patient though and soon the curly haired girl found her self gently shaking Paige awake.

“Hi baby” Azzi whispered shyly as if they hadn’t woken up like this a million times now. “Is that really you Az?” Paige responded groggily. Azzi chose to respond to this by pressing feather light kisses all around the sleepy girls face.

Paige finally fully opening her eyes is shocked to see the person she loves most face to face with her “what’re you doing here so early” she whispered as if talking any louder would make Azzi disappear. “Just couldn’t resist you I guess” Azzi responded teasingly, a small smile spreading across her face. It was that smile that she could recognize anywhere, the one meant only for Paige and the soft moments they shared that fully woke Paige up and she reached for the girl desperately pulling her on top of her in a tight hug. She caught Azzi off guard but it only took a moment for the girls to melt into each other.

They stayed just like that holding each other for a long time, neither of them wanting the moment to end. Azzi finally broke the two apart and sat up straddling the blondes hips. Beaming down at her. Paige stared back in awe, at the same time realizing that the brown eyed girl was only acting weird the day before because she wanted to surprise her. “You’re such a dork” Paige said to her girlfriend but she couldn’t hide the smile stuck on her face.

“Shush you missed me” her Azzi responded teasingly leaning down so her face was closer to Paige’s.

“Says who” the blonde replied back with a glimmer in her blue eyes. “ says every part of you” Azzi said against her lips, connecting them in a deep kiss. It was the type that made Paige’s brain fuzzy as she drowned in everything Azzi. Azzi parted her lips letting Paige in and grinding down against her. Paige moaned into the girls mouth due to the friction. Her whole body heating up. She arched into Azzi desperate for more. The younger girl broke the kiss with knowing smirk, happy to be home.

[intheorangebedroom]

I love how this gif jumped straight from WhatsApp to my inbox.

Explicit yes below the cut.

When you moved in with him, he plucked the Gladiator VHS out of one of your boxes and asked if you still had a VCR. You shrugged and said no, but you love that movie and that VHS has been with you forever and “have you seen Russell Crowe in his Roman uniform???” with an upward curl of your lips that had him raise an eyebrow.

Okay. Russell Crowe. As a Roman general. He knows only too well -and appreciates- your taste for veterans, but he had no idea it extends to the Roman legion.

First, he thought about finding an old VCR and surprise you with it. So you could play that tape and watch the movie together with What’s-his-face commanding his legion or whatever it is that put that spark in your eyes. Show you he’s not the jealous kind.

But then… well then he gets a far better idea.

He takes him a while to find it, and when he does, he has to drive all the way to the city to the rental place, then back home, where he hides the whole thing in an inconspicuous container under the workbench in his toolshed. Not too close to where he keeps the zip ties because then you’ll surely find it.

It's huge, and cumbersome. It comes with so many accessories, the shoes and the cape and a sword and the frigging golden laurel wreath in a wooden box…

Yovanna and Santi are throwing their annual Halloween party, which will provide him with the perfect occasion to wear it. As the day draws closer, and you keep asking him what he’ll go as, it becomes increasingly difficult to maintain a poker face. “I don’t know what you got up your sleeve, Morales, but your Halloween costume better be scary.”

At long last, the 31st is here. He dashes in from work and goes straight to the toolshed. The whole attire is a nightmare to strap on by himself, but after 15 years of his life adjusting tac vests, he manages. 

When he steps into the bedroom, you’re zipping up a dark blue Michael Myers suit. You usually prefer to coordinate your costumes, only this year he decided to play solo, so you had to improvise on your own.

You turn around to the sound of his footsteps on the carpet just in time to watch him walk through the threshold, clad head to toe as a Roman general. 

And oh! he’s a mighty vision. His silhouette looks twice as massive. The chest armor, adorned with two winged chimeras, emphasizes his impossible breadth. His shoulders fill up the entire door frame. A white cape, embroidered with threads of gold, is flowing behind him, and on his plush lips, a devastatingly smug smile, and you forget how to breathe. Your ribcage caves in on a breathless gasp. Your eyes grow wide and your mouth falls open.

It's not... It's not the grime and crimson of battle. It's the white and gold of triumph. It’s as though all the light in the room emanates from him. Like he is made of it. Made of gold. And his hair, oh his hair, underneath that golden crown, curls in every direction, like that bust of Agrippa you once fell in love with in the Louvre.

He is magnificent.

And that son of a bitch knows it.

“You son of a bitch…” you whisper.

His grin stretches, revealing his dimple. And he fucking chuckles.

You briefly consider texting Yovanna to cancel. Bail out on your favourite evening of the year, but then you think different. You're going to go to that party and walk into their house with that man of pure golden light on your arm. Parade him all night. And then, you’re going to go home with him and ride him into next year.

When you get there, you are rewarded by the attendees' collective gasp upon his entrance. You’re probably hovering 10 centimeters above the floor with sheer pride. Yovanna shoots you a “good for you, girl!” look you have no trouble interpreting.

You spend the entire party watching him with a coveting gaze, hiding behind your mask. You might die, from want and anticipation and also dehydration with how hot and sweaty you get, with the size of his arms, and his naked legs on display, thick and solid and strong in just the right proportions. He looks so good it's obscene, and from across the room, he makes sure you're looking at him. That grin hasn't left his gorgeous face. You know he can see through your mask, through your thoughts, through your need.

On the drive home, both of you are silent. There's too much tension, it's crackling and sizzling like butter on a pan, and you zip your combination down to your waist to free the upper half of your body from the dense cotton material. With a side glance, you catch the working of his pebbled throat, confirming he’s registered how snugly your black tank top hugs your breasts. 

You are wet all over. Saliva pools into your mouth at the sight of his freckled skin, the rippling muscles of his exposed forearms and his thick fingers curled around the wheel.

You don’t even make it to the bedroom.

As soon as you get home, you step in front of him and brace both hands on his massive chest. The rigid armor feels so real, and you are reminded, once more, of the fabric of him. Of what his life has been. Of what he's done and seen. The battles he’s fought, the wounds he survived. And the way he chose love to redeem all his sins.

A warrior. A lover. Your man.

Quietly, you undress with trembling hands under his trained gaze. The dark pool of his eyes glimmers in the semi-darkness, in the feeble glow from the table lamp that catches at each and every golden detail of his uniform.

With a light touch, you back him up into the armchair. When he sits down in it, it looks like Caesar's throne. 

And then, you kneel before him, on the rough carpet, between his spread legs, hands splayed around his calves, skimming up to rest over his thighs. Feverish palms to feverish skin.

His tongue peeks slowly between his parted mouth to lick at his plush bottom lip, and you clench, sticky slick leaking down into your ruined underwear as you bunch the white toga in your fists and push it back.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice a quiet rasp.

“Yea,” he husks, bucking his hips forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his large hand a loose curl around your jaw as he guides your face closer to what has you begging.

Brushing your cheek against his thigh, you nuzzle the bulge of his boxer briefs, and the heady scent of his sex makes you dizzy. He’s hard when you pull him out, hard and warm and throbbing in the palm of your hand, and his heavy breathing fills your ears. Pursing your lips around the fat tip of him, you taste his want. The tangy flavour travels down to your core and you squirm wantonly at his feet, eyes fluttering shut at the heavy glide of his cock over your tongue. 

Carding his fingers through your hair, his hand wrapped on your nape, he draws you in gently, down to his base, inch by inch, and you focus on what he’s giving you, on the impossible size of him, eyes flickering open to lock onto his, as he watches you take him in. Your fingers burrow into the thick of his thighs, nails digging in, and he thumbs away a stray tear from the round of your cheek as you keep him there, pulsating hot and heavy inside your throat until you can’t breathe. 

When you pull away, heaving chest and teary eyes, with a thread of saliva bowing down from your mouth to his cock, he bends forward in a creak of leather, to grab at your waist and motion you up. You moan in complaint, please Frankie please, jolting at the cold touch of his golden cuff on your skin.

“Shhh, c’mere,” he husks.

You stand up ruefully but docilely between his legs, and you might be crying, looking down at him, because it rips through your chest, it tears your bleeding heart apart, the timeless beauty of him. The reassuring breadth of his solid frame, the fathomless depth of his dark eyes, the pensive crease in his brow. His perfect features framed underneath the wreath of laurel. The softness of his touch, the restraint on his strength, when he slides your panties down carefully.

You cup his face between your hands to make sure this man is real, scraping your nails through the scruff of his beard, thumbs resting over the bare patches of his sharp jaw. 

He runs a thick digit through your soaking folds and your whole body shivers, knees buckling, you’d crumple on the floor if it wasn’t for his firm hold on your hip. 

“So? Do you like the costume?” he asks softly, teasing your entrance with his middle finger, and you laugh through your tears. 

His grin falls as he leans forward with a frown, rustling fabric and creaking leather, to press his forehead into your belly, chin pushing at the apex of your thighs, tongue darting to lick a broad stripe across your folds. His primal grunt vibrates along your spine and down your limbs, so fucking sweet, baby. 

The sharp edges of his golden crown bite into your palm when you thread your fingers through his curls. 

“C’mere,” he beckons, drawing you in, “come sit on it.”

His large hand skims down along your smooth skin and curls at the back of your leg, sitting you in a straddle over his lap. The armchair is large, but he’s larger yet, and even more so with the cape and the chest plate and the leather pteruge, and it’s a fumble to find a good position. 

He scoots forward over the seat but your knees knock uncomfortably into the armrest, and he huffs in frustration. You tilt up his face and realise you haven’t even kissed him yet, too caught up in his glorious beauty. 

“Francisco,” you breathe out, and he stills. 

You lower your mouth to his, tongue gliding over the soft cushion of his lips, and he opens up, kissing you back full and deep, your tongues entwined and swirling languidly. His hands find the plump of your cheeks, spreading you for him.

When he breaks the kiss, it's with a rushed grumble of “let me take this fucking thing off,” but you're already sinking down onto his length with a pained moan, furrowed brow and eyes clenched shut at the blinding stretch, fluttering walls and quivering chest.

You settle there, the coarse hair at his base grazing your swollen clit, his warm shuddering breath fanning your face. You feel him throb at the center of you, and you cling on to him, to his cape, forehead to forehead, the cool surface of his armor pressed to your peaked breasts.

“Keep it on, Frankie, please. I want to know what it feels like to fuck a god.”

—

HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY, MY LOVE 🧡

[magnagaruzenmon]

Photos and Favors I NSFW

You ram inside and out of Ahin with reckless abandon the tightness of her pussy and swell of her hips make fucking her an absolute pleasure. Her ass is ripe and perfect for spanking, which you've done on numerous occasions. If you could spend all day and night fucking her you would. If you could make her pussy your day job you'd apply in a heartbeat, but being her boyfriend right now was perfectly fine. As you lose your mind Ahin rolls up and smiles at you before kissing you while you thrust into her.

"Ah right there baby," she says in between velvety moans. Her voice had a soothing dulcet tone even in the throes of pleasure. Her walls begin clenching your manhood, a telltale sign informing you of her impending release. You moan as you thrust harder and faster into her. Ahin moans as his beautiful breasts bounce up and down and sway in the mirror she had you buy specifically to fuck in front of. You smile enjoying the view before saying, "Man these next few months are gonna suck without you. I wish I had a photo book of you so I could remember your body,"

Ahin notes this as she cums all over your cock. Then she backs her ass into your crotch a few more times to wring your orgasm out. The two of you smile before exhausted you both pass out.

Ahin wakes up a couple of hours later to her alarm blaring a cheerful K-pop track you vaguely recognized as one of her former group's songs but couldn't name if your life depended on it. She fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, silencing the sound with a groggy groan.

“It’s time to go already? Ugh, I hate alarms,” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep. She sat up, stretching with a dramatic yawn that ended in a satisfied sigh.

You leaned against the doorway, watching her with a lazy grin. "So this is how a glamorous ex-idol starts her day? Truly, a sight to behold."

“Keep talking and I might not miss you these next two months,” she teased, rolling her eyes but smiling as she reached for her packed suitcase. "Don’t forget me while I'm gone, okay?"

“Forget you? Impossible.”

You helped her to the car, waving as she left for her hotel. She had a business trip in Japan, then your band’s six-week concert tour. Two months apart was a long time, but as she drove off, Ahin’s message from a few days earlier came to mind—"It won't be a full two months, and I'll have a surprise for you,"

A few days later I got a DM on Instagram from a famous former K-pop idol asking for my number. When I got the text from Ahin asking me to do the shoot, I was surprised. I mostly did regularly published and moderately successful shoots, so being approached for a personal project by a famous—wait, my mistake, former—K-pop star was unexpected. She’d explained that she couldn’t pay me in the traditional sense but promised she’d “make it worth my while.” Intrigued, I agreed. It wasn’t a complicated shoot—just a few photos in her hotel room that would probably take 30-45 minutes.

A few days later, I arrived at the hotel, where the attendant at the front desk gave me some trouble. "I’m here to see Ahin. She’s expecting me."

The attendant frowned, clearly unimpressed. "I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t let anyone up without prior clearance."

Before I could argue, a supervisor appeared, glanced at me, and waved me through. “It’s fine. Ms. Ahin called ahead about him. He’s good to go.”

I thanked him and took the elevator to her room. As I approached, I could hear muffled music inside. Her alarm again? I knocked, and after a brief pause, a groggy voice called out, "Come in!"

I opened the door cautiously, finding Ahin sprawled on the bed, her hair an artful mess and her eyes half-closed. She fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, silencing the blaring music.

“Morning,” I said, setting my gear down as she stretched with another exaggerated yawn.

She glanced at me with a bleary smile. “Morning? Barely. I just woke up. Give me a second to look human.” She dragged herself upright, rubbing her eyes.

I couldn’t help but smirk. "Quite the wake-up routine. If this is how glamorous retired idols greet the day, maybe I’ve been doing mornings wrong."

“Hey, I’m still semi-glamorous,” she shot back, her grin growing as she finally stood and ran her fingers through her hair. “I mean, did you see that pose I nailed earlier? That’s cover material, admit it.”

“Oh, definitely. If the cover is for Idol Life After Retirement Monthly,” I teased, earning an exaggerated gasp.

"Wow, rude. I invite you into my hotel room, let you photograph me, and this is how you treat me?" She placed a hand over her heart like I’d mortally offended her.

“Relax, superstar,” I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “You’re still photogenic enough to make my camera blush.”

That earned me a laugh—soft and genuine, the kind that made me wonder if she really knew how to take a compliment or if she was just good at pretending she didn’t need them.

“Well,” she said, brushing her fingers through her slightly messy hair, “I guess you’re not completely hopeless as a photographer. But you know, I only let you shoot me because I trust you.”

“Oh, really? I thought it was because I was cheap.”

“That too,” she quipped, leaning forward with a playful glint in her eye. “But mostly because you’ve got that... vibe.”

“Vibe?”

“Yeah, you’re like, mysterious but approachable. Confident but not cocky. Plus, my boyfriend loves your work, so this is a win-win.” She shrugged as if this assessment wasn’t mildly flattering. “The kind of person you can trust to keep things ‘off the record.’”

“Wow, I’m blushing. You really know how to charm a guy.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she said, throwing me a pillow, which I barely dodged. “My compliments are rare and fleeting. Like me.”

“Noted. Rare and fleeting idol, compliments duly appreciated. Anything else I should write down while you’re feeling generous?”

She tilted her head as if considering. “Yeah, write this down: you’re taking me out for coffee when I get back from Japan. I deserve a reward for putting up with your sass.”

“Deal,” I said with a chuckle. “But only if you’re buying.”

She narrowed her eyes in mock offense. “You’re terrible. No wonder I like you.”

“I get that sometimes,” I responded, smirking as she disappeared into the bathroom.

“So,” I called out, adjusting my equipment, “what kind of tone are we going for? Sexy, innocent, cute, or something else?”

From behind the door, her voice came, amused but thoughtful. “How about all of the above? Let’s keep you on your toes.” Ahin strutted out a few moments later in a sexy crimson lingerie set.

“So, how’s this for a look?” she asked, one eyebrow quirked playfully. “Casual but chic? Or just lazy?”

I adjusted the settings on my camera, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm… somewhere between ‘I woke up like this’ and ‘fashion magazine model pretending to be relatable.’”

She laughed, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll take it. Ready when you are.”

I motioned for her to stand by the window where the natural light poured in, soft and golden. She complied, leaning against the frame with a nonchalant air. The cityscape behind her provided the perfect backdrop, contrasting with her relaxed demeanor.

“Okay, tilt your chin up a little,” I said, raising the camera. “Perfect. Hold that.”

The shutter clicked a few times before I spoke again. “So, why this whole ‘off the record’ thing? You don’t seem like someone who cares much about what people think anymore.”

She shifted her weight, her expression softening. “You’d be surprised. Even when you’re out of the spotlight, people still have opinions. But this isn’t for anyone else. It’s for me, and maybe someone special.”

“Fair enough,” I said, snapping another shot. “And the gravure style? That’s not exactly something I’d expect from you.”

She laughed lightly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, I guess I wanted to try something different. Push myself out of my comfort zone. Plus, it’s not that risqué.” As she said that struck a pose that emphasized her ass and tits so I was unsure of what she meant by Risqué to be honest

“True,” I lied. “But it’s definitely a shift from what I’m used to seeing of you. Not that I’m complaining.” Ahin bent over for another shot showing off her sweet smile and cavernous cleavage

“Oh? Do you watch all my old music videos on repeat or something?” she teased, arching an eyebrow.

I chuckled. “Maybe. They’re pretty catchy. And the choreography? Mesmerizing.”

She struck a quick pose, mimicking one of her old routines. “I still got it,” she said with a grin before contrasting with another sexy pose where she slapped her ass with a cheeky smile.

“Definitely. Okay, let’s move to the bed for the next set,” I said, nodding toward the neatly made bed in the corner.

She climbed onto it, sitting cross-legged as she adjusted her bra so as much of the breast could be seen without showing a nipple. “So, what about you? What got you into photography?”

I adjusted the camera as I considered her question. “Honestly? It started as a hobby in high school. I liked the way you could freeze a moment, and tell a story with just one image. It felt like a way to connect with people without having to say much.”

“You don’t strike me as the quiet type,” she said, tilting her head curiously.

“I guess I’m not, but my words often got jumbled due to social anxiety so it was much easier to say things using images instead of words,” I admitted. “Photography was my way of being understood without having to shout, you know?”

She nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. For me, it was performing. Being on stage was the only place I felt like I could really be myself.”

“And now?” I ask before I take another shot, her eyes seductive and sultry.

“Now…” She paused, looking down at her hands. “I’m still figuring that out. Being out of the spotlight has been nice, but it’s also weird. Like, who am I if I’m not Ahin, the idol?”

“That’s a heavy question for a Tuesday afternoon,” I said gently. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing fine. Exploring, trying new things—it’s part of the process.”

She looked up at me, her smile tinged with gratitude. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” I said, snapping another photo.

The shoot continued with more laughter and conversation, each frame capturing not just her beauty but the layers of vulnerability and strength beneath it. By the end of it, the room felt lighter, like we’d both learned something about the other—and maybe about ourselves too.

As Ahin glanced through the shots on my camera, her smile widened. “These are amazing. You’re good at this.”

“Like I said,” I replied with a smirk, “I make cameras blush.”

She rolled her eyes but laughed anyway, handing the camera back to me. “Okay, mister confidence. So, about that whole ‘making it worth your while’ thing…”

I raised an eyebrow, curious about where this was going. “Yeah?”

“I owe you a favor for doing this on short notice. What’s it gonna be?”

I leaned against the edge of the bed, pretending to think it over. “Hmm. How about… you set me up on a date with an idol?”

Her eyebrows shot up, and then she broke into laughter. “A date? With an idol? Oh, this is going to be good. That’s a surprisingly tame request from the gravure photographer. Okay, well then give me a list in case we can’t do option one,?”

I grinned, pulling out my phone like I was reading off an actual shortlist. “Let’s see… Jeewon from Cignature, Sana from Twice, Arin from Oh My Girl, Nancy from Momoland, Bibi and Eunbi Kwon the soloists, Umji from Viviz, and Hyewon.”

She blinked at me, then crossed her arms, her expression unreadable. “Wow. You’ve really thought this through.”

“Hey, you asked,” I said defensively, though I couldn’t keep the playful edge out of my voice.

Ahin shook her head, lips curving into a mischievous smile. “Okay, first of all, Bibi? Nancy? Sana? Too much woman for you.”

I held a hand to my chest in mock offense. “Ouch. You don’t think I can handle them?”

“Nope,” she said flatly, laughing at my wounded expression. “But the rest… maybe.”

She pulled a small notepad from the nightstand, scribbled something down, and tore off the page. “Here,” she said, handing it to me.

I looked at the note. It was an address and a time, three weeks from now. Beneath it, was her phone number.

“What’s this?” I asked, puzzled.

“Meet me there,” she said with a sly smile. “And text me before you chicken out. I’ll figure out which idol can tolerate you best by then.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” I replied, tucking the note into my pocket.

“Consider it a test,” she said, leaning against the doorway as I packed up my gear. “If you survive three weeks without pestering me, you might just deserve your date.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Challenge accepted.”

As I left the hotel room, note in hand, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d just been pulled into one of her games. But I wasn’t complaining. If nothing else, Ahin definitely knew how to keep things interesting.

Here’s an expanded scene showing the passage of weeks as the narrator and Ahin text and grow closer, establishing their friendship dynamic:

The first text from Ahin came two days after the shoot.

Ahin: Hey, I just saw some of the photos again. You didn’t even make me look half bad. Impressive.

I smirked at my phone.

Me: “Half bad”? Wow, high praise. Should I add “photographed Ahin” to my resume or wait for the glowing testimonial?

Ahin: Pfft. You wish. You’ll get a glowing testimonial when I’m officially retired and too old for anyone to care.

The banter began there and didn’t stop. Over the next few days, we texted off and on. The topics started simple—photos, her travels, my other work—but quickly veered into more personal territory.

One night, a week after the shoot, she texted out of the blue.

Ahin: If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?

I blinked at my phone, then laughed.

Me: Random. But pizza, no contest.

Ahin: Basic. But respectable. Mine’s tteokbokki, obviously.

Me: Obviously. The real question is, how spicy can you handle it?

Ahin: Level 1000. Don’t underestimate me.

The next day, she sent me a picture of a massive bowl of tteokbokki, the sauce practically glowing red.

Ahin: Dinner. Bet you’d cry just looking at it.

Me: That’s not food. That’s a crime scene.

Her reply was just a string of laughing emojis.

The more we talked, the easier it was to see past the idol image she projected. Ahin wasn’t just sharp and funny; she was surprisingly grounded for someone who’d spent years in the spotlight.

One night, a couple of weeks in, she sent me a voice memo.

“Okay, so get this,” she began, her voice animated. “I’m at this fancy dinner for work, right? And this guy—a producer, mind you—spills an entire glass of wine down my dress. He’s apologizing like crazy, and I’m trying to be nice about it, but all I can think is, ‘Wow, this is the universe telling me to quit this job already.’”

I laughed as I hit record to reply. “Maybe the universe is just telling you not to wear white to a fancy dinner.”

Her text came back almost instantly.

Ahin: I should’ve taken you as my date. You’d have carried my spare dress, right?

Me: Obviously. And probably spilled the wine myself for good measure.

The weeks slipped by in a series of conversations like that. Sometimes we talked about nothing—her go-to late-night snacks, my weird collection of vintage cameras—and sometimes we talked about everything.

One night, while I was editing photos, my phone buzzed.

Ahin: Do you ever feel like you’re just… winging it?

I paused, considering.

Me: All the time. Why?

Ahin: I don’t know. Everyone thinks I’ve got it together, but I don’t. Not really. It’s weird pretending to be someone everyone else expects me to be.

For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. Then I replied:

Me: Maybe it’s not about pretending. Maybe it’s about figuring out who you want to be now.

There was a long pause before her reply came.

Ahin: Thanks. That’s… actually helpful. But don’t let it go to your head.

Me: Never.

It wasn’t until the third week that I realized how much she reminded me of my little sister—the same mix of wit, charm, and the occasional tendency to overthink everything. Ahin was fiercely independent but also surprisingly open, once she trusted you.

One afternoon, I sent her a picture of an old, beaten-up camera I’d found in a thrift shop.

Me: Look what I rescued today. This thing’s a dinosaur, but it’s got character.

Her reply came with a photo of her own—a perfectly styled selfie with a goofy expression.

Ahin: Speaking of character, this one’s got loads. Guess I’m your competition now.

Me: That camera doesn’t stand a chance.

Ahin: Neither do you.

She followed up with You’re so lucky I don’t charge you for my brilliance. Little sister discount.

Me: Little sister? Is that what we’re going with now?

Ahin: Yeah, but don’t get too comfortable. I’m the cool little sister.

I couldn’t argue with that. As much as she teased, her texts were always a bright spot in my day.

By the time her trip to Japan was wrapping up, our friendship felt as natural as breathing. She was still Ahin—the sharp-tongued, quick-witted former idol—but now, she was also just someone I could count on.

Three weeks later, I found myself standing outside a small, trendy café tucked away in one of Seoul’s quieter neighborhoods. The address Ahin had given me led here—modern yet cozy, with an unassuming exterior that hinted it wasn’t just a random spot.

I checked my phone. Ahin hadn’t texted me back after I sent her a quick “On my way” message an hour ago. Typical. She liked to keep people guessing.

Pushing open the door, I scanned the café. It wasn’t busy—just a couple of tables occupied, but no sign of Ahin. I was about to grab a seat when a waitress approached, handing me a folded note.

“For you,” she said, smiling.

I opened it, recognizing Ahin’s handwriting immediately.

“Go to the rooftop terrace. Your date’s waiting. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

I raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and nerves bubbling up. Ahin wasn’t kidding. She really set me up. The question was—who?

Climbing the stairs to the terrace, I ran through the list in my head. Jeewon? Arin? Hyewon? I tried not to get my hopes up, but my curiosity was killing me.

When I reached the top, the soft sound of laughter greeted me. There, seated at a small table overlooking the city, was someone I instantly recognized.

Hyewon.

She was scrolling through her phone, a cup of tea steaming in front of her. When she noticed me, she put the phone down and smiled—a shy, polite smile that didn’t betray much.

“Hi,” she said, standing to greet me. “You must be Ahin’s friend.”

Friend. Right. That’s all I was to Ahin, but hearing it stung just a little. I shook it off, offering my hand.

“That’s me,” I said, introducing myself. “And you’re… wow. Hyewon.”

Her laugh was soft, almost bashful. “I hope that’s a good wow.”

“Oh, definitely,” I said, sitting across from her. “I just wasn’t expecting… you. Not that I’m complaining.”

She tilted her head, studying me for a moment. “Ahin said you were charming. I guess she wasn’t lying.”

“She said that?”

“She also said you’d try too hard,” she added with a teasing glint in her eye.

I groaned, shaking my head. “Of course, she did. She loves setting me up to fail.”

Hyewon laughed again, this time more openly. “Well, you’re doing fine so far. A little flustered, but it’s cute.”

The ice broke, and we settled into easy conversation. She told me about her recent projects, her favorite spots in Seoul, and how Ahin convinced her to go on this blind date.

“She said you’d be fun,” Hyewon admitted, taking a sip of her tea. “And that you wouldn’t be intimidated.”

“Intimidated?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, some people think idols are… I don’t know, untouchable or something. It’s nice to just talk, you know? No pressure.”

“I get that,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “For what it’s worth, you seem pretty normal to me. In a good way.”

“Normal?” she repeated with mock offense. “Should I be insulted?”

“Not at all,” I said quickly. “Normal is underrated. And besides, I doubt anyone else at this café can say they’re having tea with Kang Hyewon right now.”

Her smile softened, and for a moment, the conversation stilled.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said quietly.

“Is that good or bad?” I asked.

“Good,” she said simply, her gaze meeting mine.

As the afternoon stretched into the evening, I found myself relaxing more and more. Ahin’s note hadn’t been a prank, and for that, I was grateful. Maybe this “favor” wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

By the time we said goodbye, exchanging numbers and a promise to meet again, I couldn’t help but smile. Ahin might’ve teased me endlessly about this, but she’d been right about one thing: this was worth the wait.

You arrive at your hotel for the concert back in Seoul tired. You had put on quite the show everyone was fired up by your performance. Now you hoped for some sweet dreams and calm nights. What you didn’t expect was Ahin dressed in nothing but her little red bikini which happened to be your favorite. Ahin smiled and said, “Miss me?” You nodded as all of her fatigue was replaced by an almost depthless lust you approached Ahin while removing your clothes. She smiled at you while singing Happy Birthday in an angelic tone. “You smiled as she happily let you close the distance.

“Is this my surprise?” you ask euphoric. Ahin shakes her head as she carefully pulls the bikini strap down revealing two flash drives each taped to her nipple. She smiles before setting them on the nightstand. Then she takes off the bottom part of her bikini revealing a third flash drive taped to her clit. She adds it to the row and then says, “For when you miss me.”

You smile then start to strip. By the time you get to her Ahin is rubbing slow tortuous circles around her clit and right breast, “fuck get over here,” she moans needy and desperate.

“I have been waiting for you for a full month." she moans as her pussy glistens and calls to you like a siren. As you close in on her she smiles happily before you plunge deep into her cavern. She moans,

"Fuck I missed this cock," she says as you thrust in and out of her. She's tighter than usual and the friction makes you light-headed, as you both cum after a few moments. You groan and look at each other ditzy and ravenous but the flesh is spongey.

"that was intense," Ahin says as she sticks a finger in her cunt before licking the cum out.

As you watch you get harder and before long you thrust into her again. Ahin moans as she cums all over your cock again. You chuckle and say,

"You're just a slut for my cock aren't you?" Ahin moans wordlessly as you ravage her guts. Her sopping pussy welcomes you snugly.

"Fuck babe, you're so tight." You groan as you take your girlfriend. She growls and places both your hands on her breasts.

"Fucking grope me," she says as she takes your cock. You roughly massage her chest as she begins fucking herself on you and she begins to clench again before cumming again. She squirts around your cock as you keep hammering at her G-spot. She moans as her eyes roll back.

"Fuck cum in me." Ahin moans as she takes more and more of your cock. You smirk seeing the sassy and smiling Starlet reduced to a mewling mess because you make get rougher with her. You smack her perfect ass before you pull out then flip her over so you can ravage her from behind. You start out slowly letting her adjust.

"Ah fuck stop this slow gentle shit fucking ruin me." you smile with your green light and thrust harder into her, but keeping the drawn-out pace. Each thrust drives the former idol's mind to mush. she moans as you watch her ass ripple and sway as you take her further then shes ever gone.

"Fuck!" she moans drawing out her words and then you spank her harder then she's ever been spanked, and she cums again as the pain and pleasure fry her brain. you continue chasing your high though as she goes limp. her body utterly spent. as you rut inside of her still clenching pussy.

Ahin moans mindlessly as you continue to take her, until you pull out and cum all over her ass and back.

"Ahh Fuck" she says happily. You smile as you lay down next to her exhausted.

[bitter-me]

Platonic Boothill with a male reader who is like Arlecchino from genshin impact

Male reader is Boothill's long lost brother

The Water is Fine

Boothill | M. Reader as Arlecchino [Genshin Impact] (Platonic)

----------

"Blood runs thicker than water.."

----------

The children gather in one room as they hear their mother's story. They all look at her in awe, she had told them the story multiple times, but it never gets old. Their mother's story was always wonderful. Once she finished her gaze scanned the children before furrowing her eyebrows. "Where's [Name]? Didn't he want to hear the story?"

"'Scuse me, mother! He's doing a funeral for his spider!" One of the children raised her hand, answering her question. She lets out a sigh at the child's words, her expression showing her concerns. "That child... maybe his curse is flaring up again."

Meanwhile, [Name] crouch down in front of the makeshift grave he had for his beloved spider. How sad.. he looks at it with a blank expression until suddenly someone put a hand around his shoulders. "Hey, [Name]! I bought us cake!!" The other claimed, grinning from ear to ear. In his hand was a box filled with two slices of cake. It looks delicious. "You must know spiders don't eat cake.." "Of course I know that!"

The days spend in the orphanage were always nice, peaceful, quiet. One of the siblings favorite activities were playing tag in the garden. The trees makes great terrain for free running and parkour. Always trying to one up the other. The younger was always full of energy, seemingly excited to explore the world, while the elder was reserved, cold, maybe even cruel but he will have a soft spot for the younger.

Stealing cake from the kitchen, picking fruits straight from the tree, playing tag. Life is.. simple.. fun. The world felt so big..

"Look!" He pointed at the shooting star from their window. His eyes seems to sparkle with joy, his gaze never leaving the starry skies. "One day, we're gonna explore the universe! Travel through the stars! Just you and me!" He says happily, hugging his older brother's arm, the two gaze upon the stars with hopes and dreams. What a beautiful sight.. the sky looks so mesmerizing. The world felt so vast and filled with the unknown. "The two of us could be like Rangers through the vast space! Exploring the universe and upholding justice!"

The elder can't help but smile at the other's words. It's sweet. The though is certainly wonderful. To explore the stars with his younger brother. That truly sounded like a dream. "Yeah, we could do that." "And we could find something for your curse too! Oh just imagine what we could find!"

A child's dream..

..is always so sweet..

So... sickly... sweet..

----------

"Run! And don't you dare look back!"

"But--!"

"GO!"

He ran.. he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

He run and run.

Like the gingerbread man...

Why...

Why are they fighting..? And for what..? For the title "King"? What is that for? It's just a title. But it seems it means more than that... with his older brother's words. He run.. run as fast as he could. He's fighting isn't he? He's fighting the others isn't he? Why.. why must this be their reality..

He doesn't know what to do.. he wanted to stay with him. But he can't.. his brother told him to run and to never look back.. it's like a game of tag isn't it? Run as fast as you can.. and try not to get caught.. it's just a game.. a simple game... and yet.. and yet...

----------

"The Knave.. may I know why you're at Penacony?"

"I heard Aventurine had caused quite the trouble.. so I'm here to make this up with the Family. Though it could officially be considered a diplomatic conference, I prefer to see our meeting today as an ordinary tea party. I assume you see it the same way, Mister Sunday?"

"Right, of course. It is an honor to have you here.. Mister Knave.."

"Please.. call me, Arlecchino."

.

.

.

.

.

"What in the cosmos are these kids doing here?" The question come out as harsh, his accents sounded thick as he dodge an attack from one of them. Those three children.. fighting for what? Father was it..? That's who they're fighting for? What a load of Wubbabbo.

"Careful now.. you can't reason with an outlaw.."

"..Father..?"

A man steps out of the room, his gaze is cold, carrying himself in an elegant way that just screams absolute authority. Their gaze locked on each other for what felt like an eternity, a sense of recognition wash over them, until finally..

"You.. why are you with them?"

"Why? I thought you already know.. leave Penacony. The dreamscape is not meant for outlaws like you.."

Gritting his teeth, the other look at the man with betrayal in his eyes. How could he.. how could he side with the enemy? After what they've done... how could he just.. he could shoot him.. he could shoot him now.. he could kill him now.. and yet.. he can't... he can't just..

Even if he sided with the enemy.. he's still.. they're still..

"Come you three, our work is finish."

'Yes, Father."

The days spend in the orphanage were always nice, peaceful, quiet. Stealing cake from the kitchen, picking fruits straight from the tree, playing tag. Life is.. simple.. fun. The world felt so big..

The House of the Hearth...

.....that was their home...

..until it wasn't...

...it all happened at the same day...

where his older brother...

.....was crowned as "King."

...

Blood runs thicker than water...

..is that why it felt heavy when he saw his older brother walk away with three children by his side? One he had turned into soldiers for the House of the Hearth? For the IPC? Because ultimately....

They too once stand in those three children's positions.. soldiers.. unknowingly, that is..

And now... the "King" is continuing the cycle..

His own flesh and blood that he had looked up to.

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

What Are You a Cop?

Eddie is drowning his sorrows at the bar. His band didn't get the Saturday spot at 'Damsels' and when he went home to complain about it he caught his boyfriend in bed with someone else.

He feels someone come up behind him and he quickly ducks his head onto the counter, cigarette still in hand.

"Hi! Um I saw you from across the bar- can I buy you a drink?"

"Fuck off," he mumbles into his elbow.

"Are you ok?"

"Fuck off."

"You know...you shouldn't smoke in here."

That makes Eddie's head pop up off the counter. It actually pisses him off to the extreme. Straw that broke the bank etc. He acts in a flash, grabbing the closest drink to him.

"What are you? A cop?" He growls and throws the drink at the voice.

His eyes are blurry and have trouble adjusting to the light. When they do the first thing he notices is the earth-shattering beautiful man in front of him, vodka cran running down his face, and a smirk on his lips.

Wait.

Fuck

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a police badge.

"How'd you guess?"

"Well-" Eddie's wide eyed and stuttering. "I thought either those handcuffs in your pocket were real or you were excited to see me."

"HA! Oh that's a good one. You're gonna have to come with me."

"Shit."

-------

"Come on officer! Lemme go!!!! I'm sorry ok. I'm so sorry. I was having a crappy night and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Mr. Munson, you attacked a police officer, smoked a cigarette indoors, and you're too drunk for me to send home without supervision. One night in the tank is not gonna hurt you. I won't even put this on your record."

"Eddie."

"What?"

"I've heard cops say Mr. Munson enough in my life. Eddie's fine."

"Ok then Eddie, I'm Steve."

"Perfect."

Eddie rambles to Steve for hours until the alcohol starts to hit him a different way and sleep overtakes him.

---

There's a bang on the cell door and Eddie shoots up out of his slumber.

"WHUH"

"Goodmornin Eds, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

"Perfect! Let's get you home."

"You're...taking me home?"

"Well I...I want to make sure you're ok. I did enjoy spending time with you I wouldn't mind getting in an extra ten minutes." Steve smiles at him sheepishly.

A small blush grows on Eddie's face.

On the drive back Eddie becomes enamored with Steve. He loves the way he snorts when he laughs, he loves hearing him sing along to Fleetwood Mac, and he loves hearing about the kids he helps through a police program. He forgets all about his cheating boyfriend and knows Steve is all he wants. He feels devastated when the car comes to a stop.

"Well...I guess I'll see you around?"

Panic shoots through Eddie.

"Well I uh, never got that drink from you. Would you like to come in?"

Eddie will never forget the red face and glistening smile on Steve in that moment.

"How about coffee?"

"It's a date."

----

COMMENT 🫵

[sturnsdarling]

teenage dirtbags, part four

skater!matt and overachiever!reader spend all night in the library together

vibe check: banter, bickering, they want to be friends they just don't know it. lingering looks, immaculate "oh no we woke up spooning" vibes and a looking at eachother out of sync ending hehe

2.2k words

A/N: originally i was going to have this be a part of part three but i was feeling silly so i broke it in two.

Intro, part one, part two, part three

love and cigs, merc

"Matt" you whispered, still perched by the table, watching as Matt slipped between the bookshelves, "Matt" you said once more, this time with more grit in your voice.

you heard his infectious giggle from behind the books, weighing your options, you looked over at the librarian who had just turned her desk light off, and back to the stacks that Matt had hidden in.

"fuck sake" you said under your breath, rolling your eyes as you collected your books quickly.

you followed the path Matt had walked, being met with his boyish grin looking up at you from his crosslegged position on the floor.

"welcome to my humble abode, y/l/n" Matt said, holding his arms out, gesturing to the scratchy blue carpet and ceiling height book shelves.

"we're gonna get in trouble, you know that right?" you huffed, sitting down opposite him in a sulk.

"only if we get caught" he shrugged, a smug smile on his face, his features shifting slightly as his eyes wandered over your frustrated face.

"oh come on, y/l/n, you cant be a tight ass all your life" he jested.

"I'm not a tight ass" you replied, defensively

Matt said nothing, only raised his brows, shooting you an accusatory look.

"okay maybe I'm a bit of a tight ass" you caved, rolling your eyes as an uncontrollable smile formed on your face, "but I'm not the stuck up bitch you think I am" you pushed.

"oh yeah?" Matt questioned, a knee buckling smirk on his face.

"yeah" you nodded, chin held high

"prove it, y/l/n, whats the least tight ass thing you've ever done?" He said, leaning forward, placing his elbow on his knee and using his fist as a rest, painting his face with faux and exaggerated interest

you thought for a moment, wracking your brain for something that would really throw Matt off, "do you remember in senior year when Jack Stanley's clothes all mysteriously went missing from the locker rooms and ended up on a sex doll that was strung up in the football field?" you said, trying to hide the pride in your eyes

"that was you?!" Matt said, genuinely shocked

you nodded, smugly, enjoying the look of awe in Matts eyes. his mouth was agape, his eyes twinkling at you slightly as he scanned your frame, "damn, y/l/n thats pretty bad ass" he sat back against the stacks.

"he deserved it, you don't get to be an asshole to everyone and suffer no consequences" you shrugged

Matt squinted at you slightly, "interesting" he said, holding your eyes in his for a little too long.

"what?" you chuckled, cheeks flushing red slightly at his lingering gaze.

"no, nothing, nothing" Matt smirked.

you both fell into a comfortable silence, Matt playing with a piece of lint on the floor, and you fiddling with the sleeves of our cardigan. it was odd, how relaxed you felt around him, the fact that you didn't like each other leaving room for a complete lack of performance, you could just be yourself because, it didn't matter, he couldn't form any lower of an opinion anyway.

"are you hungry?" Matt broke your pondering silence

"I could eat" you shrugged.

Matt smiled and got up immediately, darting down towards the vending machines. You whispered his name, before quickly following suit. when you caught up to him, he was filling the machine with coins, getting every type of crisp and chocolate he could, watching like a little kid as they dropped one by one. He pulled them out from the bottom, scooping them up and dropping them onto the glossy wooden table just behind the both of you. you couldn't help but laugh at the excess of food, and then at his tight lip smile as he sat down at the table, gesturing for you to do the same.

"bon apatite" he said in his best French accent.

you chuckled and shook your head, sitting opposite him and scanning the pile for something to snack on.

The next few hours consisted of eating everything he had bought, playing games of throwing chocolate covered raisins into each others mouths and you throwing the occasional crisp at him for saying something ridiculous. you spoke about everything and anything, and he had you in stitches the whole time, something about how he said everything with an air of nonchalance, as if he didn’t even realise how funny he was only making him funnier. you had what felt like hour long debates about music and movies, only agreeing on two things: fleetwood mac is the best, and christopher nolan is severely overrated. you spoke about your favourite books, him taking out his little black tatty notebook and scribbling down the ones he liked the sound of the most. he told you about his favourite comics, telling you that you’d love spider man, and that you were the closest thing to a real life gwen he could think off.

knowing, and hating, each other all this time meant that small talk was never really small, even when you spoke about your lives, people you liked and hated, there was nothing awkward about it and, unlike your other friends, neither of you had to give context to stories or shit talking because, well, you grew up with each other. it was easy, and despite refusing to let yourself feel any sense of enjoying his company, he wasn’t horrible to be around.

Being in the library after hours made you feel like kids again, you had migrated to the bean bags on the top floor, sitting surrounded by some of your favourite books, reading them aloud as Matt sat sprawled out across from you whilst he finished off the last of the snacks he had bought. it was weirdly peaceful, reading in the nearly completely dark library as Matt stared up at the ornate ceilings, listing with intent as you told the stories to perfection.

When it was just you and him like this, Matt would almost forget you weren't friends, choosing to forget all the reasons you pissed him off and vice versa. you liked how, despite having nothing in common and actively despising each other all these years, he was the only person who you could be like this around, like, if you asked any of your real friends to stay in the library after hours to eat shit food and have you read alice in wonderland to them they'd laugh in your face, but not Matt. Matt was different.

"oh, I forgot to tell you" Matt said, swallowing the lump of chocolate in his mouth, "theres a band doing a Fleetwood Mac night next weekend at the bar on campus, I was gonna ask if you wanted to go?" he asked, in his usual easy breezy tone.

"with you?" you asked, slightly more defensive than you meant it to be.

"yeah?" Matt cocked his eyes to the side

you recoiled slightly, as if on instinct, "like, a date?"

Matt choked on his food slightly, "no, y/l/n, not like a date, as friends"

you couldn't help but look dumfounded, "is that what we are now? friends that go to gigs together and stuff"

"I mean, I guess so, I don't know?" Matt shrugged, feeling like an idiot for even posing the question

something about him asking you out, even if it was as friends, snapped you back into reality. you had been spending so much time together that him asking you to go to a gig didn’t feel weird, it felt normal, and that was a problem. something about it irritated you. whether it was him asking, or you wanting to say yes was a whole other question you weren’t ready to answer.

"I'm just helping you study, Matt, that doesn't mean we should hang out all the time" You said, your voice thick with defence

"right" Matt dropped his chocolate to the table with a stubborn nod.

"I mean, it's not like we're actually friends, right?" you cocked your eyes to the side, watching as Matt refused to even look at you

"yeah, I guess I just forgot that I can’t stand you, thanks for reminding me." Matt said, still avoiding eye contact

you scoffed, slightly taken aback by his harsh words, "likewise"

"perfect" Matt said

"brilliant" you replied

"fantastic" Matt spat, finally looking at you, the twinkle in his eyes now gone as they faded into a light grey colour.

he slumped back into his bean bag, picking at the loose threads on his sleeves where his thumb poked through the hole. you were burning holes into his head, biting the side of your cheeks in thought.

"I'm gonna go see if theres any blankets in the supply closets" you huffed, getting up and walking away before he could even respond.

Matt looked up as you walked away, watching your long ponytail swing as you sauntered down the stairs. He threw his head back with a quiet groan, rolling his eyes and shaking his head against the bean bag slightly with a long exhale.

when you returned, you were holding a pile itchy grey blankets left over from lock in drills and senior final week sleepovers. you threw them to the floor, picking them up one by one to lay them down on the floor to make a 'bed'. you brought the two smallest beanbags to the top, placing them where the pillows would go just before collecting the rest of the blankets and loosely laying them over the top, the 'duvet'.

"we need to sleep, we have a good couple of hours until we can get out" you murmured, not looking at Matt as you spoke to him.

"I'll sleep on the bean bag" Matt replied pretending to be comfortable

you rolled your eyes, "you'll be freezing" your tone back to the one Matt was used to: annoyed.

Matt looked to you, then the 'bed', then back to you. he said nothing, only proceeded to get more 'comfortable' on the bean bag.

you scoffed, not even bothering to keep pushing as you laid down on the pile of blankets, pulling one over your torso as you laid facing Matt, eyes closed in attempts to sleep.

Matt shifted, opening his eyes to be met with your relaxed, tired features. he scanned your face, watching the way your baby hairs fell against your bushy brow, the way your nostrils flared slightly as you took deep, sleepy breaths. he bit down on the backs of his teeth as he stared at you, face deadpan, trying to force his mind to ignore the way his heart was thumping against his sternum.

He tore his eyes from you and leant over, pulling the edge of the blanket up slightly so it covered your shoulders, a small sleepy mewl falling from your lips just before you turned to face the other way. you were dead asleep from the moment you closed your eyes, and after a short moment of contemplation and deciding on whether or not he was stubborn enough to be cold all night, he quietly pushed himself up off the bean bag, settling onto the floor next to you. He slowly shuffled under the blanket, laying flat on his back, the sound of your heavy breathing lulling him to sleep next to you.

The sun had begun to rise, seeping through the cracks in the stain glass windows of the top floor.

you were still sound asleep, Matt waking up minutes before you, the smell of your jasmine shampoo soothing him awake. his eyes flitted open, his position slightly different from how he fell asleep. He was tucked up behind you, arm over your shoulder as your hand held onto his wrist loosely. your head was snug against his chest, your whole body nestled into his as you shared his body heat. he was instantly panicked, more so at how comfortable he was than anything else, and his stirs woke you up slightly, giving Matt the perfect opportunity to slip his arm out from around you and turn the face the other way.

You slowly blinked awake, the smell of Matts laundry detergent and cologne thick in the air around you. It wasn't jarring, only strong and, kind of warm. you turned over, seeing the rise and fall of Matts shoulders next to you. you smiled slightly, happy he didn't spend all night freezing just because of you.

"Matt" you whispered.

"hmm?" Matt replied, pretending that you just woke him up as he turned over, his curly hair a mess in his face as he painted faux tired on his face.

"we need to go" you said, getting up quickly, looking at the small watch on your wrist, “the fire doors will be open now, the front opens in 5 minutes”

"okay" Matt groaned, "i'm coming, i'm coming" Matt stumbled to his feet, following you as you ran down the winding stairs, the shadow of the librarian lingering behind the glass pained doors serving as a jump start for the both of you.

you scurried between the stacks, heading straight for the fire exit out back and bursting through the doors into the sunlight, Matt only seconds behind you.

for reasons unbe-known to you, Matt insisted on walking you back to your dorm. The walk was basically silent, only being broken by you telling Matt you can walk the rest of the way and him telling you he might as well walk you the whole way. if he was honest, he wasn't sure why he felt the need to walk you home, considering the fact that your dorm was in the opposite direction to his. he was just being sensible, being a good man and walking a girl home so she was safe. that checks out, right?

you both made it to your dorm, your keys jingling as you pulled them from your bag. Matt stood a few steps behind you, his hands in his pockets. you turned the key and opened the door, about to walk in before you paused, unable to fight the urge.

"thank you" you said, looking to Matt

"for what?" he asked, cocking his eyes to the side

"for um - for walking me home" you stuttered.

"oh" Matt smiled, "you're welcome" he shrugged, hands tucked in his pockets

"you can go now" you said, your regular attitude back in your tone

Matt chuckled slightly, rolling his eyes as he turned on the balls of his feet, dragging his feet down the hall way.

you looked away, a small glimmer of happiness dancing across your face as you looked back to him, watching as he pulled his board from his back and placed it on the floor. you let your eyes wander for a moment before looking back towards your open door. Matt turned his head slightly, watching as you stepped into your dorm and shut the door, the flash of your pony tail being his final sight before looking back ahead of him, racing down the hallway slightly faster on his board.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Lights, Camera, Colombia

💫  Chapter One 💫 

Summary: Ten years after he quit the DEA Javi gets approached by a production company, asking if he would like to be involved in the production of a documentary about Pablo Escobar and the drug war. When he agrees, he meets you, one of the producers of the documentary and the woman who he will spend the next months working with on the documentary and travel back to Colombia, the woman who will get to know about the side of him that he never wants anyone to see, the woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Chapter Summary: Javi and you finally meet when you pick him up at the airport in Colombia and you get to know each other. And oh boy you just know the next couple of weeks are gonna be trouble....

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader

Wordcount: 7.4k

Rating: T (for some flirting)

Warnings: angst, fluff, a look into Javi’s head, Javi's anxiety, food mentions, flirting so much flirting

A/N: I am so excited to finally get the first full chapter out! I tried to do as much research as possible but we all know this is fictional so just roll with it lol

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist // Lights, Camera, Colombia Masterlist

Flying was not something Javier particularly enjoyed. 

It wasn’t even the flying part about it, but all the rest. And most of it, the waiting. He hated to sit around and just do…. Nothing. Hell, he even brought a book with him that he attempted to read on the layover in Houston. Instead he went to the bar to have a beer.

He had been okay in the planing of this trip to Colombia. He had checked in with you, made a couple of suggestions, even though what you had planned out was already close to perfect. 

The two of you had talked quite a lot through email and through phone to get to know each other a little before spending so much time one on one. 

He knew a little about your family and that you had been working with TC production for a little over five years now. The last documentary you had worked on had won a couple of awards and after finding out about that Javier had asked you to send a copy of it to him so he could watch it. 

And you did. 

It was a documentary about how the drug war affected the whole of the United States.

And Javi had loved the way it was put together. He could only hope that this one would be just as good. 

He knew that you already had been in Colombia for the last couple of days to prepare. It was quite the schedule you worked out, but you always left enough time to relax for a day or two before moving on to the next location to shoot. 

Only last week you had gotten the confirmation that you’d be able to shoot in what was left of La Cathedral, which apparently had been bought by a benedictine order to be turned into an actual cathedral with time. And you’d also be going to Hacienda Napoles. Something he found himself excited about, since he didn’t have the chance to go there back then. 

Yet overall what he felt about going back to Colombia was anxiety. 

In the week leading up to his flight even his nightmares returned. He had to schedule an extra appointment with Margery and she taught him some breathing exercises to calm himself down. Sure, he could have taken anxiety meds, but there were better times to start looking into that then when he was about to leave the country for six weeks. 

And so he took those breathing exercises and a big glass of whiskey instead of anxiety meds. A combination that would hopefully get him over the next couple of weeks. 

His CIA contact had informed him that he indeed was still on some kill lists in Colombia. But he was told not to be too concerned, the cartels had other issues to figure out at the moment. That, and he was traveling under a wrong name. 

Also set up by his CIA contact. 

Maybe if he hadn’t been a mess back then (well… he is still kind of a mess) things with Heather, the CIA contact, could have worked out. She was pretty, super intelligent and had a killer smile. They had met shortly after he came back from Colombia and had to get to one last DEA hearing where she was sitting in. 

It was a short but intense fling they had. And thankfully they parted ways as friends which was why he could reach out to her for a favour like this. 

She also took care of the gun permit for the journey for both him and you. 

„Flight 405 to Bogota, Colombia is now ready for boarding. Please proceed to your gate“

He took a deep breath before he emptied his glass of beer. Closing his eyes he counted down from ten as he took some deep breaths, before he grabbed his backpack and walked out of the airport bar and towards his gate. 

He gave the flight attendant a small smile, her cheeks flushing as she handed him back his boarding pass before he proceeded down towards the plane, pleasantly surprised that he would fly first class. 

Not that he had much from it. 

He was asleep before the plane was even up in the air. 

Maybe the next time you were considering a new project it should be somewhere more up north. Like…. Canada or…. The north pole. 

You had been in Colombia for four days and even though people around you were telling you that this weather was completely normal and actually quite cold for the season, you were sweating like crazy from the moment you got out of bed. The humidity was not something you were used to or fond of. 

You were more of a rainy day under a blanket type of girl.

Though you could admit that there were worse ways to spend a sunset than on a hotel balcony facing the ocean with a glass of white wine while only wearing your underwear. 

You had spend the day meeting up with the film crew who would already be busy tomorrow with scenery footage and interviewing some of the locals while you would go to the airport to pick up Javier. He had told you he could rent a car but you had waved him off, telling him that you had to get used to driving in this city anyway. 

If you were honest with yourself, you were excited to meet him. 

You had talked quite a lot in the last weeks and you got to know him a little. He had opened up a little about how Colombia had changed him and that while part of him was looking forward to see how the country changed, there was also the lingering anxiety about what had went down there all those years ago. 

You were pretty sure that only a fraction of the things that happened while they were working in Colombia had been made available to the rest of the world and you hoped that you would learn a little more. Sure, there would be things he could not talk about but the journalist in you wanted to at least try to get something new out of him. 

And, of course, you knew that he was an attractive man. 

Even if he aged very poorly, which you don’t think he did, you did see the ID of his DEA badge and ID that he sent to you via mail, he would still be just your type. 

Something you hoped would not disturb your work. 

Then again, a little flirting never hurt nobody, right?

But you were going to far ahead. You hadn’t even met in person yet and here you were already flirting with him in your mind. 

You sighed, watching the sun disappear into the ocean. 

In four days you would take him to the old search bloc building and after that to one of the drug labs that he had taken down that was now a restaurant. 

You had high hopes for the next weeks and you were excited to start working. 

His plane had touched down almost 45 minutes ago and you were growing a little anxious. You hoped that there were no issues with him traveling under a cover name or with his gun. 

You were pleasantly surprised that the permits had been dealt with so quickly. 

Just as surprised as when you learned that he was still on four kill lists from new cartels that had formed in the wake of Escobars death and the downfall of the Cali cartel. 

You hadn’t told Javier yet that depending on how good this documentary did, you might get the chance to do one on the Cali cartel too. 

But that was not something you were concerning yourself about now. 

There would be a time for that in the future. 

Now, you were excited and a little anxious  as you waited for Javier to walk out of baggage claim. 

And you didn’t have to wait for that much longer, the doors opening and there he was in the flesh. 

Carrying a big brown suitcase in his left hand, his eyes hidden behind some dark sunglasses as he walked out. Since he didn’t know what you looked like, it gave you some time to take him in. He was the definition of tall, dark and handsome and if you thought yesterday that he could become a problem, you were now downright fucked. 

There was the hint of grey in his otherwise dark brown temples, his moustache trimmed to perfection. Dark, full brown hair that looked perfectly messy, as if he walked right out of a photoshoot. His pants were tight, his baby blue dress shirt, the first couple buttons open and revelling his chest, tucked into his jeans, a leather jacket covering his broad shoulders. 

If he was only half as a flirt now as he was back when he was working here, things were going to be interesting in the next couple weeks. He came to a stop, taking his glasses of and let his gaze wander through the crowd, most likely trying to find you. 

You took a deep breath, suddenly not the humidity being at fault for making you sweaty. 

„Javier?“ You asked as you walked towards him, his head turning as he heard you, a small smile sneaking to his lips as he said your name. 

„Yeah, that’s me,“ you couldn’t help but grin, stopping when you were in front of him, holding your hand out for him to shake. 

He took it, his hand enveloping yours completely as he shook it and you gulped. 

„It’s so nice to finally meet you in person,“ you said.

Going through security was surprisingly easy considering he was traveling under a false name. They checked the documents, asked what he was doing here and how long he would be staying and if he had a ticket for his return flight. 

The long part was waiting for his suitcase. It gave him time to get to the restroom to pee and then throw some cold water into his face after he looked at himself in the mirror. 

He really was back in Colombia. 

Giving himself twenty seconds to freak out about it, he threw another hand of cold water into his face before he used a shitty paper towel to dry himself up. Walking out to the baggage carousel the suitcases were finally getting thrown out, yet it took another ten minutes for his to make an appearance. 

With his backpack over his shoulder and his suitcase in his hand he finally made his way out onto Colombian ground. The airport looked a little different from how it did the last time he was here. 

Apparently Starbucks had also finally made its way to Colombia. Something he found quite weird with how good the local coffee was. 

He was still wondering about that, when he took his sunglasses off to let his gaze wander over the people who were waiting. He never saw a picture of you so he had no idea what you looked like. 

Yet for some reason pretty came to his mind when he thought of you. Even though he only knew your voice. 

He heard his name being called from his left side and he turned his head just in time to see a woman approach him. 

You. 

He said your name and you smiled and fuck if he thought you were pretty, actually seeing you with his own eyes and seeing how pretty you were? Well, fuck. 

He took your hand, shaking it once, seeing your smile light up your whole face. 

„It’s so nice to finally meet you in person!“ You said and he nodded. 

„Likewise,“ he said, cringing internally. Likewise? Really Javier?

„Was your flight okay? I had the worst turbulences on my way here. Almost kissed the ground when I made it out of the plane,“ you joked and he smiled. 

„I slept all the way through. I think the realisation that this was really happening caught up with me there,“ he said, nervously rubbing his hand over his neck. 

„I can’t even imagine how you must be feeling. Only reading about everything that happened and knowing that you were there for almost everything? Unbelievable,“ you said in awe and he was sure he was blushing. 

„Yeah. The last time I’ve been to this airport I had just been fired,“ he snorted and you huffed a laugh, starring at him. 

„Are you ready to get to the hotel?“ You asked him and he found himself nodding. 

„Follow me,“ you said and turned around and Javier found himself falling into step next to you as you led him out of the airport. 

„The car rental gave me a super tiny car but I am supposed to get a new one tomorrow. So…. I hope you fit into the seat,“ you joked and he found himself grinning. 

„I am sure I’ll make it,“ he said, winking at you as you looked up at him. 

He caught himself looking over his shoulder, seizing up every person around him, looking for a potential threat. He felt his hands getting sweaty and he reached for his sunglasses, putting them back on his nose while he took a calming breath. 

For the first time in a long time he felt the need for a cigarette.

The humidity outside was like running against a wall as they made it out of the airport building. You slowed your steps, noticing Javier was looking around, his sunglasses back on his nose. 

„It looks different,“ he said after a moment, looking back at you. 

„Yeah?“ You asked and he nodded.

„Also feels fucking different,“ he chuckled a little uneasy, trying to work through his anxiety. It had been a long time since he felt like this. You gave him a small smile, fighting down the urge to take his hand or touch him, feeling like you wanted to comfort him. 

„We’re almost there. I hope you like the hotel. It just opened this year,“ you said as you stepped inside the car park, leaving Javier to feel like he could finally take a breather, a lot less people now around him. 

„I’m sure it will be fine. As long as I get a bed and a beer I am happy,“ he said, adding „I think I underestimated how being back here would have me on edge.“

You stopped walking and looked at him.

„If at any point it gets to much, please tell me. I know you said you’d be fine, but being back here must be a lot for you. I’d never judge you if you ask for a break or even stopping this whole thing. I don’t want this documentary and being back here to be a reason that you end up hurt in any way, okay?“ You asked. 

He took a deep breath after he listened to you, exhaling with a sigh. 

„I’ll be fine,“ he said and you narrowed your eyes and he found himself smiling. 

„I’ll tell you if anything gets too much, I promise,“ he added and your eyes softened, before you nodded and turned away from him to continue to lead him to the rental car. 

And if Javier found himself checking out how great your ass looked in the jeans shorts you were wearing? Well he had to get the thoughts in his head to focus on something else than being back in Colombia now, right?

The drive towards the hotel was quiet. 

Javier was busy looking around and noticing all the changes in the city and you were busy, well, driving. 

It’s not like you can’t drive. But with living in New York City you don’t get to do it much and definitely not with being yelled at in a language you understand but never felt really confident to speak. 

Javier on the other hand was surprised how much he recognised as you drove. Then again he did spend many years driving these streets. There was something different though. There were a lot more people out on the street. No buildings were damaged from gun holes or explosions. 

It seemed…. Happier. Brighter. 

„The hotel is actually on the ground where the old embassy building was,“ he heard you say and was reminded that he wasn’t alone. He had completely zoned out. 

He looked at you, seeing how you were gripping the steering wheel tightly, muscle tensed. There was sweat running down your temples even though the A/C of the car was running on full speed. 

He got the impression that driving was not your most favourite and he made a mental note to ask and offer to drive himself later on. 

„They relocated the embassy?“ He asked and you nodded, changing the lane, blinker set to drive to the right. 

„They didn’t need a big building like that anymore and they wanted higher security, so they moved to a new build building around twenty minutes from here,“ you explained, releasing a sigh of relief as you finally saw the hotel right at the end of the street. 

Javi on the other hand was impressed by the big building in front of him that had no resemblance to the office building he had spend countless hours chasing after cartels and making numerous, oftentimes questionable decisions. 

The whole area around where he used to spend his everyday life for years was completely transformed, nothing reminding him of the familiarity he felt walking these streets everyday. The café he used to get his coffee from was gone, replaced by a flower shop. The little empanada shop he used to get 80% of his dinners from gone, the whole building transformed into what looked like apartments. 

There were big trees lining up the street. 

If Javier didn’t know that he had been driving this street daily for two years he would never think this was the same place. 

You drove around the hotel and down the street until the car stopped in front of the entrance. You turned of the engine and let your head fall back against the headrest, closing your eyes as you released a long breath. 

„Not the biggest fan of driving?“ Javier asked softly. You shook your head. 

„Not the biggest fan of driving,“ you said, before you looked at him with an exhausted smile. 

„I’m sure you want to freshen up and relax. I made a reservation at the hotel restaurant for later today so we can talk through some of the things I have planned for this week. But we only start the day after tomorrow, so… there’s no rush, okay?“ You said and he nodded at you. 

„Great,“ you nodded back before you took a deep breath and got out of the car. Javier did the same, walking towards the trunk to retrieve his suitcase and backpack. Before that though, he took his leather jacket off, the heat outside being really unbearable. 

Was this the climate change bullshit he had read about? He didn’t remember it being that fucking hot in this country apart from the time he was forced to spend time with Stechner in the jungle. 

You on the other hand schooled your face into what hoped look like expressionless once he was out of his jacket. It definitely wasn’t the jacket that made him broader, it was just… him. 

You turned towards the hotel and the valet who thankfully would park the car for you before Javier could catch you starring. You were still mezermermised by the foyer of the hotel, a chandelier that was bigger as the car that you had just driven hanging over the desk, hundreds of lightbulbs artfully arranged. 

You smiled at the woman behind the desk, having talked to her for a while the day before to get some recommendations for restaurants and bars in the closer area. You more felt that saw Javier as he followed you, a shiver running up your spine, the hairs on your neck standing up. 

It was like you could feel his eyes on you and you fought the urge to turn around to confirm it for yourself. 

In broken Spanish you asked for the keys to yours and Javier’s room and she gave them to you with a kind smile. Turning around you indeed caught Javier starring at you, sunglasses back in his chest pocket, eyes snapping up from what you were sure was your ass as he looked at you. 

„You got the room next to mine. Both are facing towards the ocean more or less,“ you said, handing him the key to his room and he nodded. 

The elevator ride up to your floor was a quiet one, both of you in your thoughts, the ding of the elevator arriving making you jump. You glanced up at him, finding him already looking at him before he stepped out and walked down the floor, you following him. 

„I made the reservation for 7pm, is that okay?“ You asked. 

„Perfect. I hope they got some good tamales. Otherwise we have to check if the place Steve and I used to get ours is still there in the next days,“ he said and you smiled a little, nodding. 

„I would love that,“ you said, stopping front of your room. 

„I’ll see you later?“ You asked, Javier nodded. 

„If you need anything, just call or knock. I’ll be researching for another project, so I’ll be awake,“ you said, opening your hotel door and looking at him. 

He just nodded again, giving you a small smile as he walked past your room and towards his own. You took a step inside, letting your head rest against the door as you heard a click when his door closed. 

Yeah. 

You were in trouble now. 

Even though he had slept through the flight, the moment he got out of the shower in his hotel room he fell asleep again. And surprisingly he hadn’t dreamed of anything. It was just a blissful two hour long nap he woke up from once he got cold, having fallen asleep with just a towel around his hips. 

With a groan he turned on his back, staring at the ceiling. 

If he felt anxiety about being here when he first got here this morning, his feelings now where…. Different. He just didn’t know how exactly yet. 

Then again he didn’t know how he felt most days. Now only the added confusion about being back in a place that plagued his nightmares came on top of it. 

And then there was you. 

When he talked to you on the phone leading up to this stay in Colombia he felt himself more and more looking forward to talking to you. The phone calls to you being the highlight of his day. He found himself thinking about what you were doing through certain times in the day and he questioned if he could be attracted to someone he had never met before. 

But then today you had met and fuck if Javier thought he was in trouble on the phone with you, right now, knowing you were just on the other side of the wall of his hotel room was a whole different story. 

You were beautiful. 

In every single way possible and he had only spend an hour with you. Part of him was scared to find out what would happened once you spend every single day with each other, but there was also a part of him, a part he forgot existed, that was excited. 

Excited to get to experience this new version of Colombia with you. 

Excited to get to know you.

He took a look at the clock on his bedside table, realising it was later than he thought. And maybe he spent a little more time getting ready, before he made his way towards your room to pick you up for dinner. 

You on the other hand did everything but research the project you had planned. Almost immediately after you took your shower you had called your friend in the states who knew about the documentary and about how much you already had started to like Javier during your phone calls. 

But now?

Holy crap this would either be a very long and exhausting six weeks or this would be the best six weeks of your life. And you needed to let all these thoughts out before you were going out with Javier to dinner. 

No. Not going out. 

This was just a work dinner. 

A meeting. 

Going out sounded too much like a date, which it definitely wasn’t. 

Which is why you did not wear the little black dress that had somehow made its way into your suitcase. You chose the light green summer dress that made your ass look great instead. 

And if you spent more time on your make up and hair?

Well you were going out to a four star restaurant. That’s why you did it.

And you really didn’t do it for the look in Javier’s eyes as you opened the door, ready to join him for dinner. 

You sat outside in the lush parklike garden of the hotel, enjoying the last hues of the sun warming your skin. All the way from your hotel room, throughout the lobby and into the restaurant you could feel Javier’s warmth next to you. 

You didn’t know his hand had been hovering behind you all the way, 

Now you were sitting across from each other, both trying desperately not to ogle each other while waiting for the drinks you had ordered and reading through the menu. 

You had ordered a glass of white wine and Javier a glass of whiskey. 

„The menu sounds good,“ he said finally and you looked up at him, his eyes still reading the menu. 

„Yeah? I don’t think I ever had any of this except the salad,“ you said, pursing your lips. 

„Really?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„Even though I travel a lot for work I keep eating what I know like a true American tourist,“ you cringed and he chuckled. 

„I could order for you? I know my way around the local cuisine. Or at least I did,“ he offered and you set the menu down with a smile. 

„I would love that,“ you said, leaning back in your chair. He gave you a small smile before he continued to read through the menu. 

„Any allergies?“ he asked. 

„None that I know of,“ you said and he nodded. 

You used the time the waiter took to get your drinks to look around the beautiful property, your eyes seemingly always landing back on Javier as he still read through the menu. 

He had changed into a simple white polo shirt and some black jeans. You knew he must have showered, his aftershave filling the whole elevator cabin, making you positively dizzy. He smelled like he looked, sexy and a little dangerous. 

„You sure?“ He asked once the waiter brought your drinks and you just nodded, listening to him as he ordered for the both of you. 

Waiting until the waiter had everything written down and taken the menu’s back with him you reached for your glass of wine, bringing it up to smell it, closing your eyes. 

You may not know your way around food, but wine? Yeah. You knew enough. 

„Can’t believe what this place turned into,“ Javier said after a while and you looked at him as he looked around. 

„In my research I learned that the old building had so much asbestos in the basement, that the renovation would have cost more than just to tore it down. That’s probably why the hotel chain got the property pretty cheap. And the location is really great. I walked toward the presidential palace earlier this week, it was so close,“ you smiled, finally taking the first sip of your wine. 

„I had a lot of meetings in there,“ he sighed and you tilted your head in interest. 

„What if I said we’re going in there next week?“ You pursed your lips and he raised both eyebrows.

„Really?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„I haven’t told you yet but I do have some meet ups arranged throughout our time with people you have worked together. And from what I gathered from talking to them before hand you were all friendly with each other,“ you explained and he narrowed his eyes. 

„I didn’t make any friends here,“ he said slowly. 

„Now I know that that isn’t true. Steve Murphy and you seemed like friends,“ you said and he rolled his eyes, picking up his drink.

„He’s a fucking pain in my ass, that’s what he is,“ he snorted before he drank from his glass. 

You chuckled. 

„I bet the two of you were nothing but trouble working together. From what I gathered from our phone calls….“ 

„Honestly, and don’t tell him that. He was the best partner I could wish for out here. We went through a lot of shit out here. But he always had my back, even when I fucked up. And I really fucked up,“ he sighed.

„What did you do?“ You whispered and he looked at you, setting his glass down. 

„I’m afraid, that’s classified,“ he winked and you laughed. 

„Of course it is. I hope I can get some insider scoop out of your on our little journey through the drug history of this country,“ you said and he hummed, lips twitching into a grin. 

„Guess you have to find a way to get your inside scoop out of me,“ he winked. 

„Oh I have my ways, Agent Peña, don’t you worry,“ you winked back before you both laughed. 

„We’re gonna start with you showing me your favourite places, or what’s left of them,“ you explained after you had the best empanadas you ever tasted as a first course. Javier, or Javi as he told you repeatedly to call him, told you a little about the work he was doing now, working as a consultant for the DEA in San Antonio.

He also told you he kind of hated his job, but had been doing it all his life and didn’t really know what else he could be doing instead. 

„I’ve been working on movies all my life really,“ you said with a shrug after he asked how you got into your job. 

„Really?“ He asked with a grin, you nodded. 

„First movie I made was to blackmail my sister after I found her kissing Jimmy Miller in our garden when our mom was getting groceries,“ you said proudly and Javier laughed with a shake of his head. 

„Remind me to never get on your bad side,“ he chuckled.

„It was her fault really, she broke my favourite toy,“ you chuckled too. 

„God, sometimes I’m really glad I don’t have any terrorising little siblings,“ he sighs, still smiling. 

„None?“ You asked, and he shook his head. 

„I was a miracle baby more or less. Mama tried for a while to get pregnant and once the doctors said it was better to stop, boom, I happened. But she was already in her mid thirties which back then was… ancient to become a mother so both her and papa decided I was enough,“ he explained. 

„Well, you haven’t missed anything without siblings. They’re kind of annoying, honestly,“ you say. 

„You and your sister not on the best terms?“ He asked and you sighed. 

„I wouldn’t say we’re on bad terms but… she’s the poster child. She went to college, married her high school love and had a baby. And because of all of that she sometimes does this thing where she tries to  tell me how my life should be going. Because that’s what’s expected, right? You get married, you have the child, or children, and you life happily ever after while your husband brings home the money so you can have your picture perfect life, right?“

„If that makes someone happy, sure,“ Javi shrugged. 

„Exactly. If that makes someone happy, they should do it. But I am not like that. I love my job. And if I end up falling in love and having kids, that man would have to deal with that. Cause I can’t see myself quitting my job go become a housewife,“ 

„I think I could become a stay at home man,“ Javi mused and you were so stunned after your little rant you could do nothing but laugh, enjoying the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. 

„What? Don’t I seem like the type to stay at home, take care of the house, maybe the kids? All of that of course only after I trick someone into marrying me,“ he joked and you smiled softly. 

„I think you’d make a great stay at home husband for a very lucky lady some day. Or man. Whatever you’re into,“ you added quickly and he laughed. 

„Woman. Just women,“ he clarified quickly and you raised one eyebrow. 

„Really?“ You asked and his eyes narrowed. 

„What’s that tone supposed to mean?“ He wanted to know and you just hummed. 

„Nothing… Just…. Surprising. I would have bet you’re into men too,“ you shrugged, and he pursed his lips, bringing one of his hands up, his fingers rubbing over his perfectly groomed moustache. 

„Are you?“ He asked.

„Into men? Oh yeah,“ you winked and he huffed a laugh before he shook his head. 

„Into women,“ he clarified. 

„I think so. Like, I’ve never been with one, but if I end up meeting a woman and fall in love with her? Who am I to run away from that?“ You asked and he hummed. 

The waiter came and took your empty dishes, informing you that the main course would be served in a couple of minutes. 

„Do you…. Do you have someone at home waiting for you?“ Javier asked and you couldn’t help but smile. 

„I do,“ you said seriously and you might have imagined it, but Javier’s face fell for a moment. 

„His name is King George and he’s currently staying with my best friend,“ you said, his face changing into confusion. 

„He’s my cat,“ you clarified and Javier released a breath he was holding in a chuckle. 

„So no. No one waiting for me at home Javi,“ you smiled, „What about you?“

„No,“ he shook his head, „I think I have some issues letting people in,“ he confessed, eyes widening as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

„But that’s not something I should talk about with anyone else than my therapist or my fictional future wife with,“ he added and you smiled softly. 

„It’s okay. I have the same problem. When you’ve been on your own for so long, it’s hard to do this step of letting someone in. Not just in your head and heart. But in all your routines, your house, your life, your  family. It’s….. The person has to be worth it,“ you said and he nodded. 

„Yeah, It’s…. It’s sometimes easier being alone than opening up to someone only to get hurt in the long run, a sentence no one at home would believe I just said,“ he chuckled to himself, picking up his drink. 

„Well I get what you mean. I rather be happy alone, than miserable in a relationship. Though I have to admit there are some things I miss about it,“ you hummed, resting your arm on the table.

„Like what?“ Javi asks, interested.

You hummed. 

„I miss cooking for someone. Which sounds dumb, but cooking for yourself feels like a chore. If I get to do it for someone else? Well that’s something else entirely,“ you said and Javier smiled a little. 

„Yeah. I hate eating fucking microwave dinners on the couch by myself,“ he said and you chuckled. 

„Exactly. Like…. I am good most times, I am happy with how my life is. I just ask myself sometimes if there’s more? Like am I going to stay alone until the day I die or is someone out there who can handle my crazy ass?“ You asked and he hummed. 

„You don’t seem so crazy to me,“ he said with a small grin and you raised one of your eyebrows, challenging. 

„You’ve meet me what? Six hours ago? Give it time,“ you nodded with confidence. 

„I’ve known you for a couple of weeks and from what I know? I think you’re an intelligent woman that loves her job and is good at it. You’re funny and between us, you’re fucking sexy as hell,“ he said like it was the most obvious think while your eyes widened, warmth spreading over your cheeks. 

You were trying to come up with a response to his words when the waiter approached, serving the main courses. Javier winked at you and you suddenly felt so hot, you were sure he could see it. 

You took a deep breath, reaching for your glass of water to take some sips. 

„This looks good,“ you finally said, picking up your fork. 

„Yeah,“ Javi said, eyes still on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. 

„Shall we eat?“ You asked and he nodded before he picked up his fork too. 

You continued to talk all throughout your dinner, though you made an effort to talk more about the trip and less about your personal lives. You were not sure why, but you felt way to comfortable with Javi and opening up to him about your life. 

Not that this was bad, you just didn’t want to dump everything on him. This was a job and once this was finished you would most likely never see him again. You would move on to other projects while he moved on doing god knows what. 

Sighing you picked up you new drink, looking up into the by now dark night sky, Javier having left to look for the restroom some time ago. 

Why were you freaking out right now?

This was a dinner. Technically a dinner with a client. 

A very attractive client who kept looking at you with his big brown eyes that seemed to hold so much longing and hurt in them that you felt like you wanted to hug him and never let go of him. 

There was so much more to Javier Peña that you thought in the beginning. From interviewing people in preparation for the documentary the people seem to respect him for the work he had done and was still doing, but were judging him harshly for everything else he did. Be it how he got the work done or how he spent his private life. 

More than once you had heard the word manwhore when talking about him and frankly?

If you would look like him, you would be one too. 

„Penny for your thoughts,“ you jumped when you heard his voice behind you, a plate of what looked like cake in his hand that he set down in front of you. 

„What’s that?“ You chose to ignore his questions as he sat down across from you. 

„This is Postre de natas. It’s a kind of milk pudding and it’s maybe my most favourite dessert on this planet,“ he said and you nodded.

„Where is yours then?“ You picked up your spoon.

„It was the last one, you should have it," he said with a warm smile and you found yourself smiling back. 

„That’s… That’s very sweet Javi," you said softly before you brought the spoon to your lips, eyes widened when the sweetness exploded in your mouth. 

„Oh this is fucking delicious,“ you hummed happily, loving the was Javi’s eyes lit up as he smiled at you. You ate almost half of it, before you sat your spoon down and pushed the plate towards him. 

„You take the rest, or I will have a sugar shock that won’t let me sleep,“ you joked and he laughed quietly before he started to eat, a long moan escaping his lips as he tasted the first spoon. 

He closed his eyes in complete bliss while you schooled your whole demeanour to not react to how watching Javier eat his dessert felt like watching porn. 

He licked his lips, humming to himself, sighing at every taste. 

„I feel like I should give you two some privacy,“ you finally found the words to tease him and his eyes dropped open, looking at you before you saw his cheeks flush a little. 

„I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not. This might be the closest I got to having sex in a long time,“ he said, chuckling and your eyes widened, before you laughed. 

„Guess I gotta find myself a desert that’s that good, huh?“ You joked and he licked his lips, having finished the dessert. 

„Or someone to have sex with,“ he shrugged and you rolled your eyes. 

"Like it’s that easy,“ you said and he pursed his lips, eyes playful.

„The guy at the bar has been eyefucking you all night,“ he said and you were about to turn your head to look when he stopped you. 

„Don’t look. He’s not worth your time,“ he said and you titled your head. 

„And how do you know that?“ You asked and he smirked. 

„Saw his dick in the bathroom, he was next to me. Trust me, he is not worth it,“ he said seriously and your lips parted in shock before you giggled. 

„Oh my god,“ you shook your head and he grinned. 

„This is the weirdest business dinner I’ve ever had in my life,“ you still laughed, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. 

„Well this has been the best dinner I’ve had since I can remember, so thank you for that,“ he said and your smile at him softened. 

The waiter approached, asking if you wanted to order anything else but you shook your head, much like Javi before you asked him to bill the dinner to your room. 

Both Javi and you emptied your drinks before you both decided it was time to head back to your rooms. 

You walked through the restaurant back towards the elevators, walking close by each other. You couldn’t help sucking your lip in to hide your laughter when you past the man Javi had talked about sitting at the bar, nodding at you with a grin. 

Even if he was attractive, all you could think about was what Javier had said about him and you had a hard time not bursting out in giggles all the way to the elevators. When you risked a glance at Javier he was grinning too and you both chuckled as the elevator door opened. He waited for you to step in, following you, standing beside you as you pressed the button to the floor. 

You didn’t know if it was seeing the guy, being so close to Javi or the three drinks you had but you found yourself asking „So if he’s not worth my time, how do you compare to him?“ 

You saw him suck his bottom lip between his teeth, before his tongue dared out to lick over his bottom lip. 

He was about to answer when the elevator doors opened, having reached your floor. This time he put his hand on your lower back as he led you out of the elevator, slowly walking up the hallway towards your room. 

You were already fiddling with your key when he stopped in front of your hotel room door. 

„I’e be definitely worth your time,“ he finally said and you looked up at him. 

„Yeah?“ You asked, voice just above a whisper. He nodded. 

„And not just because my dick is bigger than his,“ he said, before he slowly leaned down to kiss your forehead. Your eyes widened, processing his words as he reached for your room key, unlocking the door for you. 

„I’ll see you at breakfast?“ He asked and you dumbly nodded, before you slowly walked into your room. 

„Sweet dreams," he winked as he pulled your door closed and only then did you realise that you had held your breath. 

„I am in so much fucking trouble,“ you mumbled to yourself with disbelieving laugh, looking forward to what the next few weeks would bring. 

next chapter

Taglist (please send me an ask if you want to be added to the LCC Taglist, I only have a taglist for this series, not for all of my works)

@pasc4lfuzz// @kirsteng42 // @imdreaminghere // @greenwitchfromthewoods // @theorganasolo // @inept-the-magnificent // @maried01 // @nationallampoonlemmings // @sunnytuliptime// @desuidesu // @galway-girlatwork // @missladym1981 // @bergamote-catsandbooks

[lillaydee]

Shhh!!!

Celebrity!Joel Miller / F Reader

A reluctant celebrity contractor who has closed his heart for love meets a celebrity-hating Cafe on Wheels owner...

She HATES him. Thing is, he couldn't get enough of the coffee she makes...

Tag List:

@kirsteng42 @peelieblue @harriedandharassed @joelalorian @vickie5446 @inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @brittmb115 @peedrow

Let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tag list.

Dividers by the awesome @saradika

WARNINGS: Grumpy Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Celebrity Joel Miller, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy.

SERIES MASTER LIST

“Come on Joel! It’s not that big a deal! I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m 16!”

“No!”

“Why not? It’s not like I’m asking to get married or anything like that… Ew… even the thought makes me want to puke.”

“You’re still in school. I don’t want you to lose focus. You don’t need a job.”

“I just want to get some experience. And I wanna save up for a car.”

“I’ll buy you a car.”

“Yeah, good luck with that. What did Sarah do when you bought her one instead of letting her work for one?”

Joel sighed. He downed the rest of his coffee. Grimaced at the now cold coffee and went to get a refill – but the pot was cold now, too. “Damn it,” he grumbled. The fucking coffee maker was broken. Again.

“You know, you might be the richest man I know who still drinks coffee from a 20 year old machine you got as a birthday present. You know you can buy a new one for less than 100 bucks? You give me more weekly.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. I’ll just rewire it. Again.”

Ellie banged her head on the breakfast counter. “Quit being such a cheapskate, old man. How are you okay to buy me a car if you won’t spend less than 100 bucks on yourself?”

Ellie regretted her words before she could draw breath after that. She knew he was not a cheapskate, exactly. It wasn’t about the money. It was the coffee maker. What it symbolized.

His late wife had given it to him as a birthday present when Sarah was about one. She died in a car crash a week later. He was suddenly a widowed single father at 22.

He refused to replace that coffee maker, even though the coffee now came out burnt and ridiculously bitter. It had been rewired and fixed so many times neither Ellie nor Sarah wanted to touch the damned thing, worried they’d get shocked by it. Ellie swore she saw the lights flicker when Joel turned it on that morning.

But he didn’t react, just rolled his eyes at her, again, before picking up his keys and pushing her out the door, nowhere near fulfilled, coffee-wise.

Ellie wanted to shake the man who had been taking care of her since she turned 12. She had been Sarah’s mentee at the rec centre, and when her mother disappeared, Joel took her in, no questions asked. Her life took a 180 that day. He made sure she had everything she needed, got her into school, took interest in her progress, listened to her when she needed advice, even listened to her rants, albeit with a grumpy face.

She felt bad for him, he worked ‘til midnight yesterday. Shoot ran long. Ellie was sure he didn’t get home ‘til 2am. And now he’s already up to drive her to her summer art programme. She didn’t want to tell him about the programme at first, knowing it would take time out of his day to drive her back and forth. His schedule was bonkers to begin with. He’d done enough. So she got the bright idea of having a summer job. If she could buy a car, she could drive herself. There would be no need to trouble Joel anymore. Sarah drove her sometimes, but she wouldn’t be back from school for a couple more weeks.

Ellie and Sarah would talk sometimes, worried about Joel. He worked too hard. No social life to speak of, at least, not that they knew about. His life was the two of them, his brother Tommy and his work. They asked each other the last time they remembered him going out on a date, or even a vacation, for that matter, and neither could recall for sure. For a while, they thought he and Angela, his manager slash agent was a thing. But Tommy vehemently denied it, saying they were just business acquaintances. He changed the day his wife died, Tommy said. He became hardened. Stoic. Grumpy. To everyone save for Sarah, and now, Ellie. Not to worry, Tommy had told them, your father had people he could call if he felt… lonely, he said. Neither girls wanted to ask Tommy about their father’s social life, or lack thereof again after that.

Not that they were denying what Tommy suggested. It wasn’t as if he was short of interested parties. Being on a show as big as his and Tommy’s, he didn’t want for screaming ladies, something he was never interested in. He and Tommy started as contractors, renovating houses, their small company doing okay to support their small family, even in an expensive town like LA. They renovated a producer’s kitchen one day, and he offered them a contract as set builders for a show he was producing, and then the next, and then the next, and before they knew it, they had a show of their own, beginning with basic DIY stuff for a morning show, expanding to full on house renovations and builds. Tommy was the handsome, friendly, bubbly face of the show, and Joel the grumpy, reluctant contractor in the background. ‘Build with the Millers’ was a huge hit, and Joel Miller was the grumpy contractor that ladies and men alike swooned over.

Why exactly, neither Ellie nor Sarah understood. He was the same, scruffy man in his 40s that he was at home, just as he was on TV. No make up or overly styled hair for him. Apparently, after an incident involving a broken, aforementioned coffee machine and a late night taking care of a feverish Sarah, no make-up artist on set wanted to go near him again, lest they lose a few fingers trying. So he was on TV, face oily, scruff unkempt, hair unruly and all, dressed in whatever comfy shirt or flannel he managed to grab from his dresser that morning, and still the ladies swooned over him.

Fans approached him all the time, asking for pictures, often ignored. It became a thing at one point, people posting about their disappointing encounters with Joel Miller. He just walked past, hands around Sarah, shielding her face in case people took photos of her. He had relaxed a bit nowadays, but still wouldn’t entertain requests for photos, and still kept his arms around his girls when he noticed people whipping their phones out to take a picture. He left the glamourous part of the job to Tommy, much to Angela’s chagrin. He could make so much more, she had coaxed at one point. He didn’t need any more money than he already had, he said. So he left all the money making dalliances to Tommy.

Sarah once told Ellie that they lived in their old house for quite a while after the show took off, Joel only investing in a bigger place with a yard, only so that he could make sure Sarah’s privacy and safety was under control. He had woken up to a strange woman in his kitchen making breakfast for him and Sarah once and had to get a restraining order against her. He contacted a real estate agent that very day, and he slept better at night knowing that his daughters were safer behind the tall fences and a top notch security system.

Even though he himself was a simple man, he made sure his daughters want for nothing, as long as they remained humble. No designer anything for them. He still drove his beat up truck, so no Ferraris for the girls. He himself didn’t have the opportunity to go to college, so his girls were going, no matter what. That was why he was so against them having a job, he wanted them to focus. But what he didn’t realize was the girls looked up to him and lived by his example, wanting to work hard to enjoy their earnings more. When he bought Sarah a car instead of letting her get a job, she sold the brand new Prius he got her and gave the money to the rec centre she volunteered at, where she met Ellie. She got a job and got a second hand Mini instead.

And Ellie was determined to do the same.

She took out her phone and texted someone, glancing at her yawning adopted father as she did so. “So, can I get a job or not?”

“No.”

“Come on!!! Just for the summer. Not like I have school.”

“You have this class. This art thing. You begged me to get this tutor to teach you for the summer. Focus on that. I thought you wanted to go to art school.”

“Yeah, but we finish at noon. And they are prioritizing those going to colleges for volunteer work right now, so that’s out. What the hell am I supposed to do ‘til the next day? And I have to wait around for you to pick me up and you are not always on time, and you wouldn’t let me take an Uber.”

“So let me buy you a car.”

Ellie gave him the typical Miller girls’ combo of a side-eye and eye roll. “I guess the rec centre could use the money I will get from selling it.”

Joel stopped the truck at the rec centre, taking a deep, deep breath of frustration. He wanted to persist, but he could see he was fighting a losing battle. “Where exactly is this job you’re planning to get?”

Her face lit up, opening the door and jumping out, yelling at him to wait. She disappeared around the corner to the side of the building, coming back out not five minutes later, a massive cup of coffee in her hands. She presented it to him with both hands, complete with a curtsey, head bowed. “Coffee from my new work place, Your Majesty,” she said.

Joel rolled his eyes. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else in the world, it was pretentious fancy coffee, robbing people of their money. He didn’t take it.

“Come on, old man. You know you need this. Go on, I promise you it will be better than the ones you burn every morning.”

“How would you know that? You don’t even like coffee.”

“There’s a long line every day. Must be good. Plus, I need to help my new boss sell coffee now, don’t I?” she smirked.

Joel took yet another deep, impatient breath, took the coffee and had a sip.

Ellie watched as for a split second, his entire body relaxed, eyes closed, and breathing calmed. Just as quickly, though, he opened his eyes and sulked, placed the coffee in his cup holder and passed Ellie her back pack. “Pick you up around the usual time.” Ellie stepped back and waved Joel goodbye.

Huh. The man who swore coffee that didn’t come from his ancient coffee machine or the craft service of his show was crap just had a good reaction to that cup of coffee. Coffee that he would classify as ‘a modern fucking robbery’ just because they took some time to craft and cost more than a dollar. She walked back to the truck she had gotten the coffee from, taking the slotted tray with another cup of coffee and an iced tea placed on the sill.

“I guess I’ll see you after class then, Boss!” she semi shouted.

You dipped your head low to see her from your perch, winking at her, “Counting on it!” you called back, handing your next customer her usual cappuccino.

That first day, you made Ellie watch for an hour. She would mainly be taking the orders for you, handling the payments and cleaning the small fold out tables outside. You made sure she flipped through the booklet to make the teas and other drinks, the easier stuff. When she could stand to stay in the truck for longer than an hour without getting a headache from the smell of coffee, then maybe, just maybe, she could help you clean the machine.

You had taken over the truck from your stepmom Jenny, the woman you called Mom a couple of years before that. The woman had had enough of the glamorous city and decided to leave for her hometown, longing for a quieter life. The two of you started the moving café after your father passed a few years back, moving from one spot to another, going wherever the customers might be. Your father had owned a chain of cafés and sold them all when he decided to retire. You respected his wish to sell, but part of the reason you decided to open a moving café with Jenny was to have a connection with him. You worked for him most of your life, and making coffee made you feel closer to him. Apparently, he gave you a hollow ball with coffee beans inside as a rattle. His nickname for you was coffee related. This was what you loved doing.

Jenny did invite you to move with her, maybe start a business with her there, but you were in love then. So you stayed. Of course, the man you were so besotted with, the one who begged you to stay in LA with him rather than move with the woman who raised you decided that an opportunity to be with his dream actress was too good to pass up. He broke up with you over voicemail when she approached him at a party, drunk off his ass, all excited that she would even look at him. Last you heard, he lost his job as the manager at one of your Dad's old cafes for missing too much work to be with her on set and had become her personal assistant instead.

You went about your life, driving your little café around before deciding you couldn’t be bothered to do that anymore, and paid for a spot at the rec centre food truck centre. On your very first day there, two girls came running to your truck, the older one, Sarah, ordering the biggest iced latte you could offer, the younger one, Ellie, an iced tea, nose all scrunched up from the smell of coffee, which she apparently hated. And now she’s decided she was going to work for you. Go figure.

You didn’t really know much about her per se. You knew that Sarah’s father had adopted her, that he was a contractor, that she spent her evenings after school volunteering at the rec centre, just as Sarah did, and that she was taking personal tutoring from one of the art professors who volunteered at the centre during the summer. She spent her evenings at your truck while waiting for her dad, whom she only ever referred to as the old man to pick her up, yammering in your ears as you cleaned for the day, often running off with a quick see you tomorrow Lil over her shoulder when he called to let her know he had arrived.

You loved her company. To be frank, after Dave dumped you, your life consisted of work and sleeping, having to wake up super early to get the truck ready for business. You even open on the weekends, only taking every other Sundays off to spend some time with your Uncle Bill, Jenny’s only brother. That was it. You open and close at six every day, clean up, wash your truck on your way home, have a quick dinner, do some chores, read, and sleep. You tried to watch some TV at one point after Dave left, but his girlfriend Cleo’s face graced the homepage of your Netflix account, so you cancelled your subscription. You stopped your social media involvement, with the exception of the Insta page for your truck. Everything else would put you at risk seeing your ex with his glamourous sweetheart.

Ellie provided you entertainment, so to speak. She told you about the books she read, the movies she watched, the classes she took, and you found her excitement infectious, even if you had read and watched the movies she was talking about. She had a hard life before, not having the opportunity to enjoy the books and movies most people have at home, so her excitement in learning all these new things was something to celebrate. She started complaining about wanting a car, that her old man had offered to buy her one. But she wanted to get one on her own, just like her big sister. You suggested she get a job, just like you did back when you wanted one for yourself. Yeah, she had groaned, her old man wouldn’t let her get one. But she was going to talk at him until he gave in.

And gave in he did, apparently.

She was a hard worker, very friendly with the customers, cleaning as she went. But at the end of the day, she was exhausted, telling you she was going to sleep well that night. She helped you clean up before running off to use the bathroom.

Her phone started buzzing. ‘Old Man’ blinking on the screen. It went dark. And then buzzed again. After a few missed calls, a tired looking man in flannels came storming around the corner, panic written all over his face, eyes searching for someone amongst the parked trucks and the buzz of the people cleaning the area before dialling and placing the phone on his ear. Ellie’s phone buzzed again. It went dark as soon as the man took his phone away from his ears, dialling one more time.

Okay, it’s possible this was Ellie’s old man.

You walked up to him, the man walking in circles frantically looking for someone. You tapped him on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir, are you…”

He turned to look at you, an exasperated look on his face, “Look, lady, I’m in the middle of something, I don’t have time to take pictures right now, okay?”

Huh?

He saw your confusion, took a deep breath, “I’m looking for someone, so no, now is not a good time for pictures, okay?”

You stood there, still confused. The fuck was he talking about? What pictures?

“What?” he barked at you, annoyed that you couldn’t understand a few simple sentences.

Okay, you’re angry now.

“Well?”

“I was just going to ask, sir, if you are looking for Ellie,” you spat out. Slowly. Deliberately.

His expression changed. His stance shifted, his body language got softer. “Uh, yeah.”

“She’s in the bathroom,” you snarked, going to your truck to get her backpack and phone, shoving them both into his chest.

He finally saw the name on the truck. Wheely Coffee. That name was on his cup this morning. He closed his eyes, regret clear across his features. “Look, I’m sor…”

You slammed the door of your truck in his face, the door actually hitting his shoulder so hard he staggered backwards. You got in the driver’s seat and drove off, leaving him standing in the street, Ellie running out to meet him, confused as to what had just happened.

He looked at her, snapped out of his shock, handing her the back pack and phone.

Ellie didn’t take them, her arms crossed on her chest, staring at him with laser eyes.

“What the fuck did you do, Joel? What the fuck did you say to my boss?”

Part 2

[leclercss]

Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),

a Tainted Love sequel

Masterlist

plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.

word count: 4.3k

taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar

"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.

"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.

You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.

"And what do you mean by that?"

"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."

"That's no true," you growl.

It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".

This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.

"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.

"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.

"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.

Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".

Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.

"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.

She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".

You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."

Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.

"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.

"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.

"Spit it out, Kika!"

Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.

"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.

Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".

You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.

The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.

Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.

An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.

He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.

In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.

That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.

You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.

However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.

You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.

But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.

But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.

Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?

You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?

And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.

And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.

You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.

Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.

You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.

You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.

You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?

No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.

“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”

You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.

As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.

“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.

Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,

“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”

“Yes, everyday”.

-

It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.

Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.

As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.

Shit!

You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.

“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.

Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.

You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.

“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.

Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.

Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.

You flash him a grateful smile.

“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.

Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.

“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.

“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.

“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.

Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”

Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”

“Oh, and you told him everything right?”

Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.

You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.

“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.

You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”

A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”

“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.

You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.

“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.

“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.

You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.

“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.

You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.

“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.

What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.

Shit.

This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.

Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.

“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.

“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.

But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.

-

You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.

Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.

You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.

As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:

Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦

As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:

You’re disgusting 🤮

Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.

“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.

Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.

“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.

Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.

He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.

No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.

You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.

He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”

Charles laughs to himself a little.

“Hi, [Y/N]”.

It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.

You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.

Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.

Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.

“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.

Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?

Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.

“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.

You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.

Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.

“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”

“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.

Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.

“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.

“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.

Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.

He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.

You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.

As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.

“How was New York?”

Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.

“Charles, I never went to New York”.

[liliasenbyhusband]

Play stupid games

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joanne x reader (company, f!Bobbie)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI!!!, smutty thoughts but no actual smut, that’s it I think??

Tags: longing, established friendship between reader, Joanne and the others, smidge of angst if you squint, flirting, reader being down bad

Summary: Joanne and you have always been flirty with one another but what happens when it no longer is just a silly game for you??

Notes: English isn’t my first language so I apologise for any mistakes. I have never written ‘x reader’ fics before so please don’t judge this too harshly. This is going to be a multichapter fic but life is busy so I can’t promise regular updates. I suck at summaries…so I hope all of this makes sense 😅

Words: 3.3k

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1: Bobbie’s Birthday

Joanne being flirty with you was nothing new, ever since you had been introduced to Bobbie’s other friends Joanne had found a way to turn any comment into something filthy. And you, never being one to back down, always managed to shoot a flirty remark back. This back and forth had become your established dynamic, the remarks getting more outrageous as time went on. It was just playful banter really, the teasing touches being part of the game you two had started to play. The aim was to try and get the other person to blush first, most of the time you ended up losing, but that only made those few times where you did manage to fluster Joanne even better.

Your innocent little game was a great way to pass the time when the others were too engrossed in talking about their recent marriage troubles or about how the kids were doing. Joanne, having recently gone through her third divorce, had claimed she was done trying to find a husband that would stick around and wasn’t really interested in talking about marriage or kids with the others and you… well… you weren’t exactly lucky in love either, so you preferred to keep your escapades to yourself. And so you two had found the perfect person to get through these evenings with in one another.

There was only one.. small..tiny.. little.. insignificant… problem. Somewhere along the way your brain had forgotten that Joanne’s flirting was just that, a little game and that she wasn’t actually interested… and now you had developed feelings for her. You really were unlucky when it came to relationships and romance.

You couldn’t pinpoint precisely when this had stopped just being a way to pass the time for you, but you could remember exactly when you had realised that you caught feelings for the brunette.

Joanne and you had started hanging out together, outside of a group setting, for over a year now. It had started when she had invited you back to her place after a particularly intense hang out with the others, claiming that you and her both needed to unwind after the tumultuous conversations. Later, after getting to know her better, you’d come to find out that the real reason she had invited you, was that she really disliked coming home to an empty apartment after spending such a long time surrounded by others.

You had to admit that you preferred hanging out one-on-one with her over spending time with everyone in your friend group all together. Not because you disliked the others but because Joanne was different when it was just the two of you. Of course she still teased and jokingly flirted with you but the teasing lost its sharper edges and the flirting was softer and less dirty.

She seemed more at ease this way and slowly yet surely she had shown you bits and pieces of herself. She wasn’t vulnerable often but every now and then you could see through the little cracks that had appeared in her walls when it was just the two of you.

This had been one of those moments. You were lounging around her giant apartment, soft music was playing in the background and Joanne was rambling on about one of her latest annoyances. And every once in a while you could see them, right through the cracks, the real emotions behind what seemed to be superficial complaints. When you looked into her eyes you could see parts of the real Joanne and you wished time would stand still, just for a little while, so you could bask in the moment of being privileged enough to be able to share these little moments with her.

You were nodding along, agreeing to whatever seemingly unimportant thing she was complaining about while expertly reading between the lines, figuring out what this was really about. Some people, like her ex-husbands, might complain that the brunette needed to come with a manual but not you, you found that once you looked past the armour she wore to protect herself, she was rather easy to understand. You just needed to know what to look and listen for, all you had to do was look past the annoyed words she spewed and look for the real message she was trying to convey.

A small smile appeared on your lips as you realised just how well you knew her. You were aware that you only got to know her this well because she allowed you to see this side of her and that knowledge left you with a warm and fuzzy feeling inside your chest. You secretly longed to be the only one she showed this side to, to be special to her. The thought of someone else knowing her this well, getting to see her like this, left a vile aftertaste in your mouth… wait- was that a normal way to feel about a friend? Surely you should want her to have more friends she could be more open with.

But you wanted to be special to her…different from her other friends. Suddenly you became very aware of her hand on your thigh, it had been there a while, still left from earlier when she had tried to fluster you. Usually such a simple touch wouldn’t do the trick, she had to pull out the big guns to win your little game… but then why did you suddenly feel a familiar heat creep up your cheeks.

You tried to shake yourself out of it, focusing on what she was trying to tell you and those beautiful brown eyes.. god you could get lost in those, stare at them for hours and never grow tired of looking at them. A familiar feeling wove its way into your chest, the warmth that had settled there earlier spreading even further. And then you glanced at her lips, to better listen you told yourself at first. But then, out of nowhere, you had to fight the urge to reach out, cup her cheek and pull her into a kiss.

And all of a sudden, like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown over you, it hit you… it was plain as day… you had feelings for the woman in front of you. How long had you been feeling this way? You couldn’t remember anything really changing in how you felt towards her. Except lately she seemed to win the game more often and you seemed to fluster rather easily, and the compliments you threw at her held more sincerity and warmth and were less about trying to get her to falter and more about telling her how beautiful you thought she was… you couldn’t remember when it had started but her touch was driving you insane, even more than it did before, and now that you thought about it you found yourself often daydreaming about the brunette.

You had internally cursed yourself and had pushed those feelings down, they would be dealt with when the reason for your internal turmoil wasn’t sitting right in front of you. So you continued to listen to Joanne and decided you’d deal with this mess later.

“Are you still with me, doll? Or have you gotten lost in that pretty little head of yours again?” Joanne’s teasing voice cut through your thoughts.

How long had you been spiraling? You mentally cursed yourself, ever since finding out you had feelings for the woman, you couldn’t stop yourself from overthinking every moment and ruminating on the moment you had found out.

You shot her an apologetic smile, your cheeks threatening to flush at the use of the pet name and the slight teasing. You hoped she wouldn’t notice, it was Bobbie’s birthday party after all and a lot of stuff was happening around you two.. the perfect excuse, you realised as you quietly spoke, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Sorry, there’s just a lot going on… it’s a bit overwhelming.”

You hoped she wouldn’t see through you. It wasn’t entirely a lie, everything going on around you might have overwhelmed you in other circumstances… if you hadn’t been too busy thinking about her.

Joanne seemed to buy it… for now… and her normal teasing tone was exchanged for a more serious, caring one as she asked you the following.

“Do you want to go somewhere a little more quiet?” Usually she would have added something to make the sentence as suggestive as possible but when you looked into her eyes you could see the slightest sliver of worry in them.

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you at the thought that she cared this much about you and your comfort, it was soon followed by a tinge of guilt for making her worry about you.

The rational part of you knew that you shouldn’t go somewhere more quiet, alone with Joanne, it would only make things worse. Her entire focus would be on you and you wouldn’t be able to distract yourself or use the ongoing party as an excuse. And yet part of you wanted to spend some more time alone with Joanne.. you couldn’t help it. Having the other woman’s attention solely focused on you was something intoxicating and you’d become addicted to it.

“No, I’m okay. I wouldn’t want to drag you away from a good party.” You sent her a reassuring smile as you both silently cursed and thanked the rational part of your brain for taking over.

Joanne chuckled dryly before teasingly replying. “Darling, if you think this is a good party then I need to take you out more.”

Before you even properly realised what she was doing, the brunette grabbed your hand and dragged you into Bobbie’s bedroom before closing the door. You knew she was only doing it because this was the only quiet spot in the apartment at the moment, but the second you registered where you were, your mind flooded with images.

You pushing Joanne against the door and kissing her till she was a moaning, whimpering mess. Joanne pushing you down on the bed as her hands quickly got rid of your clothes, those captivating brown eyes filling with hunger and desire. Your hand finding its way into her pants and-

“There, isn’t this much better?” Joanne’s voice cut through your racing thoughts and brought you back down to Earth, the images fading to the back of your mind.

The lack of any crude comments about you both being in Bobbie’s bedroom confirmed that she had been truly worried about you and it enhanced both the guilt and spreading warmth that you had felt earlier.

You hummed in confirmation then thanked her softly, sending her an appreciative smile while mentally cursing yourself for not being able to control your thoughts. You knew you had been acting strange around her lately, zoning out more often and getting way too flustered, too quickly. Joanne was a perceptive woman, she was bound to catch on at some point and you did not want to risk losing her entirely just because you couldn’t keep your feelings at bay.

“You know this wasn’t the reason I imagined you dragging me into a bedroom for the first time.” You teased, hoping to settle back into your established dynamic, fearing that any amount of silence stretching between you would result in you getting lost in your thoughts once again.

But then you began overthinking everything you were saying. Was this too much? Would this give you away? Could she see right through your façade and catch the truth behind your words? You internally groaned and hoped you’d get over this crush soon so you’d finally be able to act normal around her again, without overthinking every single thing.

The sudden change in mood seemed to catch Joanne off guard a little but it seemed to have convinced her that moving to a quieter place was all you needed and that you were now feeling better. Despite appearing a little surprised by your sudden teasing, she managed to quickly shoot back a rebuttal.

“Oh darling, the night is still young, you never know what might happen.” She sent a wink your way before sitting down on the bed and quickly adding. “Although I will have to take you back to mine because my bed is far more comfortable.” She added with a smirk.

“I don’t think I could wait to go all the way back to yours first, we might just have to make do with what we’ve been given.”

You said dramatically and jokingly as you leaned against the wall, making sure to keep your tone light and teasing as you tried your best to not imagine what Joanne’s bed would feel like… or what it would be like to have her moan your name in it.

Joanne gasped loudly and placed her hand on her chest, acting offended. “You think I won't last more than one round? We don’t have to finish where we started, you know.” Her eyes raked over your body with that playful glint so clearly present in them.

You willed yourself to not start blushing and to come up with a witty and even bolder remark but failed on both accounts so instead just playfully rolled your eyes and held your hands up in defeat.

Her smirk only grew when a pink hue coloured your cheeks. “You’re becoming too easy.. I’m going to start suspecting you of letting me win on purpose.” Joanne teased.

“Or maybe you just keep getting more vulgar.” You raised your eyebrow, shooting her an exaggerated questioning look.

“You love it.”

She shot back with a knowing smile and you felt the familiar ache of longing in your chest. If only she knew just how much you loved it… how your brain had forgotten this was all just some silly game you two had started to pass the time.

“I do.”

You chuckled softly, a full smile slowly returning to your lips, no matter how tumultuous the feelings inside you were, you couldn’t help but enjoy this little moment. The banter, Joanne caring about you and knowing you better than you had previously thought, and her smile that never failed to make your heart skip a beat, overshadowed the fear and worry that was ever present in the back of your mind.

“It’s good to see you feeling better.” The teasing and joking tone from earlier had completely disappeared and made way for a rare serious and genuine intonation and expression.

You were certain that your blush only deepened at the blatant display of care but, luckily for you, Joanne had decided not to comment on it.

“Spending time with you like this always makes me feel better.” You answered honestly, matching her serious and genuine tone.

Before Joanne could answer and before you could overthink the little confession and start spiralling once again, Bobbie burst into the room, clearly drunk. She sent a knowing smirk your way and you immediately regretted ever telling your best friend about your crush on Joanne. For a moment you feared she might say something that would give you away but instead she turned to the other woman, her face displayed a mock disgust, her voice was light and playful while her speech was slurred.

“Come on you guys, no getting it on in my bedroom! You’re missed at the party.”

Bobbie held the door open and waved her arm around, motioning for you both to get out of her bedroom.

Joanne shot you a worried look, that told you she was ready to tell the birthday girl to fuck off if you needed a couple more moments here alone with her. You smiled at her reassuringly, telling her without words that you were okay and that you didn’t mind returning back to the main event.

The brunette got up from Bobbie’s bed and walked up to you, gently squeezing your hand before walking past you and out of the room. You were about to follow her when Bobbie placed a hand on your shoulder and stopped you, whispering in your ear.

“You better tell me allll the details later.”

You groaned and whispered back. “Nothing happened, there is nothing to tell.”

Bobbie gave you a once over, as if to check if you were lying or not, when she was satisfied that you hadn’t lied to her, she disapprovingly shook her head, poking your shoulder after every word.

“Take. Action. You. Need. To. Get. Laid."

Her voice was louder than before and the blush that had finally started to disappear threatened to make its way back to your cheeks so you decided to simply roll your eyes and walk away, ending the conversation there.

There was no reasoning with a drunk Bobbie anyway and trying to tell her that it wasn’t like that, that you didn’t just want to screw Joanne but that it was deeper than that, was a futile task. And trying to convince her that you were almost certain that Joanne did not feel the same way and that you were quite sure you weren’t her type was already impossible when she was sober, so was completely hopeless now.

As you walked out of the room and made your way to the hall, so you could rejoin the others, you realised that Joanne had been waiting for you in the hall, meaning she most definitely heard the last part of your conversation with Bobbie. She looked at you, raising a brow, silently questioning you what that was all about.

You just shook your head and waved your hand, quietly telling her it was nothing for her to worry about, hoping that she wouldn’t question you about it. And it seemed like you were in luck because after studying your face for a bit, she simply walked back into the living room and joined the party again.

You quickly followed suit, silently thanking whatever was up there for not putting you through the pain of trying to come up with a convincing lie or a truth vague enough to tell Joanne. That woman knew you far too well and she did not hold back when it came to telling you that she knew you were bullshitting her.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur, you spent time talking to your friends, celebrating Bobbie, and complaining about life. You and Joanne didn’t manage to get any alone time again, you’d sometimes end up talking to the same people together or sometimes you’d shoot each other looks across the room but someone always seemed to be needing one of you just when you were about to head to the other.

The last time you saw her was when you were saying your goodbyes. She was talking to Bobbie about something, you had tried waiting till they finished their conversation but by the looks of it that wouldn’t be any time soon. Joanne was wildly flailing her arms around, gesticulating and punctuating her words with the movements of her hands. Bobbie was rolling her eyes even more than usual and was trying to act all laid back and nonchalant while sipping her drink every 5 seconds. These were clear signs that they were having a heated discussion and with those two, those discussions could last till the early morning hours..

So you had quickly and apologetically interrupted, told them both goodbye before kissing each of them on the cheek and abruptly leaving Bobbie’s apartment.

And now you found yourself laying in bed, staring at the ceiling, overthinking every single interaction you had had with a certain older woman. Your mind replaying every moment, trying to find some indication that you had fucked up and that Joanne was now aware of your feelings towards her. You groaned and tried any and everything to get that woman off your mind, to no avail.

Sleep did not come easy that night and when it did finally envelop you in its sweet embrace, you still couldn’t escape the woman that had been plaguing your mind. Your dreams were filled with her red lips, rich French perfume and sweet words, that had burrowed their way into your brain. There was no denying it, this woman had wormed her way into your heart and it didn’t seem like she would be leaving any time soon.

[solarmorrigan]

You know how cats seem to have an innate sense of when you’re about to get up, and they choose that exact moment to sit down on your lap? And no sooner have they made themselves comfortable than you realize that you have to go to the bathroom, or someone calls you over, or the phone starts ringing, and you have to shove the poor cat off your lap?

That’s basically Eddie’s sex life right now.

Well alright, no, not entirely, but – it’s a component that’s certainly starting to become an irritation.

It’s just that Steve has a wonderful lap.

At least, Eddie assumes it’s wonderful. It’s wonderfully inviting, at the very least; it’s wide enough to offer Eddie (who is not quite as generously endowed in the whole… thighs-ass department, he’ll admit) a good seat, and he’s had his hands on the area often enough to know it’s firm but with just the right amount of give to be very comfortable.

But Eddie’s never actually gotten to spend much time on it.

He doesn’t even mean that in a sexual way (although that much is also true). Every time he’s so much as tried to plop himself down on Steve’s lap to do something as innocent as watch a movie, Steve seems to remember something he needs to get up and do within just a few minutes.

For a little while, Eddie had been worried about what that meant. Did Steve not want to spend time with him? Did Steve not want Eddie near him? Did Steve not find him attractive? Did Steve just find him annoying?

But further time spent together has given Eddie more confidence. Clearly Steve enjoys spending time with him—submits to it willingly and often—and does find Eddie annoying but in a way he enjoys. Steve also most definitely finds Eddie attractive (and, in fact, has no trouble at all spending extended time on Eddie’s lap). So at this point, it’s more of a puzzle. A frustration.

It can’t be that Eddie’s too heavy for him; Eddie isn’t a small guy, really, but he isn’t huge, either. He’s seen Steve push and pull bigger people around – hell, he’s seen Steve carry Mike a good ways through the woods and back to the car after the kid had slipped and twisted his ankle when they’d been out walking (an incident which none of them are allowed to speak of ever, for varying reasons of blackmail and dignity), and he’s not too much smaller than Eddie.

Eddie is nothing if not a direct sort of guy, though – if he’s thinking something, he’s going to say it. This is mostly because he has very little brain-to-mouth filter, but he’s learned to make it part of his image. He’s pretty sure it works for him.

All of this to say that one afternoon, as they make out on Steve’s couch, Eddie freshly settled on Steve’s lap, Eddie decides to just… ask.

He waits until he can feel Steve’s hands sliding down around his thighs—not groping, but with the intent to move him—before he pulls back to say anything.

“Hey,” he says—gasps, really, still a little breathless with his attempt to seize the opportunity, “question.”

Steve blinks up at him, startled. “Uh. Shoot.”

“Do you not like it, when I sit on your lap? Because it kinda seems like you find other places to be when I try to make that happen.”

If Steve had been startled before, that’s nothing on how he looks now. He covers it in an instant, but Eddie’s seen it; Steve’s good, he’s very good, but Eddie is literally right in his face.

“What?” Steve pulls back, brows drawn in confusion. “No. Why would I have a problem with you being in my lap?”

Eddie shrugs. “Not a damn clue. That’s why I figured I’d ask. It’s just that whenever I get myself settled here, you suddenly remember you have to get up.”

“I don’t do that,” Steve scoffs, throwing in a good-natured eye roll.

“You kinda do, babe,” Eddie says, keeping it light; this isn’t an argument, nor an accusation – it’s literally just a question, and he doesn’t want to scare Steve off.

“So you’re saying, that every time I have my boyfriend on my lap – a guy I find insanely hot, by the way,” Steve’s hand slide back up Eddie’s thighs, edging towards his ass, and this time he’s groping, “you’re saying I don’t want him there, is that right?”

Eddie’s resolve almost breaks as Steve stares up at him with his ridiculous, pretty eyes (he’s good, he’s very good, Eddie will give him that) and tugs him closer with his ridiculous, strong hands, but he knows Steve is lying. He knows it.

He just doesn’t know why.

And isn’t that interesting? Eddie wouldn’t exactly call Steve an open book, but they know each other pretty well by now; Eddie can usually read Steve, but he has no idea what he’s thinking just at the moment.

So he decides to allow it.

He’ll see where it goes.

“Hm,” Eddie hums, as if he’s thinking. “That does sound a little silly, if you put it like that.”

“Completely silly.” Steve grins up at him, but there’s a thread of very genuine sincerity in what he says next. “Of course I want you here.”

And Eddie’s not sure what to say to that, so he leans back in to kiss Steve again.

And for a while, it’s fine. Great, even. Steve is a very good kisser, after all, and Eddie likes to think he’s no slouch himself, and a good time is being had by all, except before too long Eddie can feel Steve starting to tense up under him.

Once again, Eddie doesn’t mean this in a sexual way.

It’s not the fun, anticipatory kind of tensing, but the ready to run or punch something kind of tensing. The kind of tension that comes from a threat, not from having your boyfriend on your lap.

Eddie waits to see if Steve will do anything, say anything, but he does nothing. His kisses grow more distracted, quicker and shallower, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t push Eddie away.

It’s when Steve starts shaking that Eddie gives up.

“Okay,” Eddie pulls away, shifting himself to the side so he doesn’t have more than an ankle draped over Steve’s legs, “what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who pulled away,” Steve snaps.

“Yeah, because it feels like you don’t want me up there,” Eddie shoots back.

Steve rolls his eyes again, irritated this time. “What, you don’t like it if I don’t let you sit on my lap, you don’t like it if I do let you sit on my lap– What the fuck do you want from me?”

“Maybe just the goddamn truth.”

Whatever Eddie expects, it isn’t for Steve to just… stare at him.

He stares at Eddie for a good five seconds in full silence before shaking his head. “No,” he says quietly, “you don’t want that.”

His sudden reticence only sparks Eddie’s irritation. “Don’t tell me what I do or don’t want, Steve. You don’t want to tell me, that’s on you, but don’t decide for me what I don’t want to know.”

“Well what do you think you’re going to hear, Eddie, huh?” Steve barks. “What do you want to hear? You wanna hear how Billy Hargrove sat on me – pinned me down while he beat me unconscious? Or you wanna hear how it felt to be handcuffed to a fucking chair while some Russians– while they– how it felt to be held down and not be able to stop them from doing anything?”

Steve has stood up now, pacing in front of Eddie, and Eddie wishes he could do anything other than fucking stare while his boyfriend has some kind of breakdown that he started.

“Or – or how about how I ruined multiple dates, or hookups, or whatevers when someone tried to sit themselves down on top of me and I damn near shoved them off onto the floor and then had to make up some dumb fucking excuse and run out on them before I had some kind of fucking panic attack? You wanna hear all that?” Steve demands, rounding back on Eddie. “No! You don’t… you don’t want to hear that.”

“Steve… no, I don’t wanna hear all that,” Eddie says, and hurries on when he can see Steve practically crumple in on himself, “I don’t want to hear that all that horrible shit has happened to you, but I need to.”

“Wh– what?”

“You don’t… I mean, you don’t have to give me specifics if you don’t want, but I need to know what might set you off so I don’t accidentally do it, okay?” Eddie says. “It fucking terrifies me that you went through all that, and I know I can’t do anything about it, but I’m at least not going to be one more thing that makes you hurt. I’m gonna make damn sure of that.”

“…Oh.”

It’s clearly not what Steve was expecting to hear, and for a moment he shifts uncertainly in front of Eddie. He wraps his arms around himself before seeming to think better of it and crossing them over his chest instead. Eddie wants nothing more than to draw him close and hold him, but Steve’s not quite ready yet.

“I’m not… I didn’t want to say anything. I don’t want it to be an issue,” Steve finally says.

I don’t want you to treat me differently, he doesn’t say.

“Then we won’t make it an issue.” Eddie shrugs. “You got some kind of trauma associated with sitting on other people, or can you come back over here to me?”

Steve blinks at Eddie, startled, before he gives in to a little huff of laughter, slowly crossing back over to the couch.

“You’re an ass,” he says, all fondness.

“Mm, so I’ve been told,” Eddie says, aiming a smug smile up at Steve as Steve settles himself right over Eddie’s lap. “And yet, here you are.”

“Yeah…” Steve leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth, quirking a little smile as he pulls away. “Here I am.”

[redsrooftopprincess]

Hello! I hope ur day is going well 😊😊

I was wondering if I could possibly request the bay boys and fem human reader (platonic)...she's been spending less and less time at the lair, and being secretive. April says that this is something that most teenagers do, but the guys can't shake the feeling that reader is hiding something from them.

So, one night, they decide to follow her. And imagine their surprise when they found out that the reader has a bf! Whewwww I can just imagine that the guy is going to start shitting bricks when they find out that the brothers that reader so lovingly talks about, are actually 4 humanoid turtles that will break him in half if he so much as hurts their little sister

(For this, can the reader be 18-19, and the guys are in the early 20's)

Little Sister

No warnings

"She's hiding something."

"Of course she's hiding something, Leo. She's a teenager." April replies with the strained patience of an exasperated older sibling.

"And you're sure she's safe?"

"For the fifth time, Leo, yes." She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs, "If you're really that worried, you can ask her tonight." Putting her phone on speaker, she sets it on the desk next to her, she has an interview in about six hours she had to be prepared for. "Just please don't get… how you get."

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asks. She can hear his scowl through the phone.

"You know exactly what it means, Leo," she replies without inflection. "If you get authoritative on her you're just going to push her further away."

...

You're already twenty minutes late and the boys are getting worried. The living room has been prepared with pillows and blankets piled on the floor and high on the couch, a coffee table covered in so many snacks and drinks that it almost looks like they're levitating, two humans, four turtles, and one old rat, who all look up as Donnie announces, "She's on her way down," to everyone's relief.

"Hi! Sorry!" you call as you rush into the lair, "lost track of time."

"Yeah?" Raphael pipes up from his spot on the couch, "seems to be happening a lot lately." April shoots him a look. he raises a brow in challenge, but she says nothing.

"Yeah, heh," you try to play off casually. You ignore the eyes on you as you step into the living room and set your backpack down beside the couch, "life's just been busy, I guess. So what are we watching?"

Your attempt to quickly change the subject is missed by no one. Thankfully, they let it go, and the discomfort eventually eases as the movie progresses, a shitty B-Sci-fi/Horror that Mike picked out. By the end of the movie everything seems back to normal. Until you stand up to leave.

You usually stay a while after to hang out, or have Donnie help you with your homework. It was barely 8:30. They exchange glances.

"Heading out already?" Leo asks with a raised eyebrow.

You sling your backpack over your shoulder, "Yeah, I've got a study group tonight. Physics."

"It's Saturday," Mike argues.

"It's the only day we could all find that worked, and I think," you carefully step around Mikey and Donnie, "I should care a little bit more about my grades than about 'kickin' it with my besties'," you mock.

April rolls her eyes, she said it once, months ago, and you will still not let it go.

"You know, if you're having trouble in physics…" Don starts.

"Later guys! Gotta go!" you interrupt, calling over your shoulder as you hurry out of the lair.

The echo of the door closing rings in the silent space. The turtles remain where they are, their eyes moving from the door to their father who nods once and they stand and begin tidying up very efficiently.

"So… are we not gonna do anything about that, or…" Casey asks in the awkward silence.

Leo smirks, gathering a stack of paper plates destined for the trash, "we're giving her a head start."

…

Cuddled up in bed and comfortable, your boyfriend's arm wrapped around your shoulders, you're sharing memes on your phone when you suddenly feel him freeze.

"Babe…?" You question, sitting up and looking at him. His eyes are fixed on something outside the window, as the hand not around you reaches for the miniature NY Yankee's baseball bat on the side of the bed. You follow his eyes out the window and catch a flash of orange disappear beyond the frame. You grit your teeth. Overprotective jerks. Can't you have any kind of life? You place your hand on his leg, squeezing to get your boyfriend's attention, "babe, it's fine-"

"Stay here," he interrupts, climbing out of bed.

Oh no.

You stand up quickly after him, "Babe, really, it's fine. It's just-"

"Get behind me," he says, placing himself between you and the window, and squinting out into the darkness. "We know you're out there," he calls, as bravely as a boy barely dancing along the edge of manhood can, "we don't want any trouble," he says, "if you leave now, we won't call the cops."

He doesn't catch the quickly silenced sniggering from the other side of the glass, but you do, and you are filled with all the the rage and resentment of an untrusted younger sister. You huff a deep breath and cross your arms over your chest, "Mikey, get the the hell in here and stop terrorizing my boyfriend," you order.

Your boyfriend's head spins around to look at you, thoroughly confused then whips back around to the window when it begins sliding open in the casement. You watch his eye widen with a mixture of terror and confusion, and you're immediately worried you've made a horrible mistake.

One, followed by the usual three other hulking figures, enters from the darkness, and soon your boyfriend's small bedroom is "standing room only." You're glaring at each one of them, they don't seem fazed, Raph even smirks. He's almost proud of you for challenging them. They stand in a line, arms crossed, examining your boyfriend silently, who is almost dizzy with how fast his head is spinning between you and your big brothers.

"What the hell?" you yell after a moment, "You followed me??? Are you fucking serious??? Do you assholes trust me at all???"

Leo's gaze shifts to yours. "Study group," he says simply.

Oh, right. You had actually lied to them. You sigh heavily, deflating, but only a little.

"You've been sneaking around, Y/N," Mikey points out, "we were worried."

"That, and you've never needed help with physics in your life," Donatello adds, giving you a look. You mentally kick yourself, you could have said almost any other subject and it would have been plausible.

"So, you gonna introduce us, or what?" Raphael inclines his head in the young man's direction, smug smirk planted firmly on his dumb face.

You sigh again, still annoyed. the righteous indignation of a teenager is a powerful thing, "Guys, this is my boyfriend James, James this is Leo, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph."

James' wide eyes meet yours, "These…" he starts, before clearing his throat and trying again, "These, are your brothers?"

"That's right, toothpick," Raphael says, once again gaining his full attention as he places his own toothpick between his lips, and shifts it to the side of his mouth. Your boyfriend's eyes follow the action and he swallows, Raphael's smirk grows.

You like James, you might even love him, and there are some pretty damn good reasons for that. James realizes he has a decision to make. He loves you. He's pretty sure you're the first girl he's ever loved, and he's really not interested in loving anybody else, and if he's really in it for the long haul, that's going to means some things…

He takes a deep breath and stands tall, smoothing his hands over the front of his t-shirt, he then holds his hand out to the blue banded bara directly in front of him, introducing himself "like a man," the way his dad taught him before he left for deployment. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sir. I assure you, I respect and love your sister very much, and I hope in time I can prove myself to be worthy of her."

The practiced lines are clumsy, but heartfelt, and the corner of Leonardo's mouth turns up slightly, as he grasps the boy's hand with his own. "I hope that, too. For your sake," tugging gently on his arm and pulling him in conspiratorially, he quietly informs him with a smile, "if you fuck this up, we're going to be the least of your worries. We've been training her to hurt people since she could walk."

Leo's smile widens when the boy glances in your direction, not in fear, but in respect and admiration. He's starting to like this kid.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramiell @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15

[fictoculus]

Hi, how are you? If it's not too much trouble, could I ask for some jealous Tighnari headcanons? please and thank you <33

౨ৎ "is everything alright, dear?"

send a request!┊masterlist┊taglist applications

FEAT... tighnari

SYNOPSIS... someone hits on you, how will he react?

A/N... hi anon, thanks so much for the request! i'm doing good tyyy, i hope you are too ^^ i sorta got carried away writing this, nd it ended up to be more of "someone hits on you" than jealousy hcs... i hope it's still enjoyable though and i apologise that it isn't reallyyy what you asked for ♡

♪ your boyfriend, tighnari, watches from afar as you engage in idle chit-chat with your fellow scholars, resisting the burning desire to pull you away from them all and keep you in his little world, in which you are the earth and he is the moon.

♪ he often tells you how his life revolves around you, how he sees you wherever he goes whether you're actually there or not, and it never fails to fluster you. of course, you tell him how yours revolves around him also, calming his anxieties as he relishes in your words.

♪ that being said, the second someone tries hitting on you, he loses it. yes, tighnari is a big softie at heart, but being a forest ranger means he has some level of authority, and he will use this to his advantage when confronting your pursuer. you were his after all, and he was equally yours.

♪ this isn't the first time someone has approached you, looking you up and down with wide eyes and shooting a smile in your direction. of course, you send one back their way, but only to be polite, not to evoke further flirting. this is where tighnari steps in.

♪ the soft tickle of his tail brings a wave of relief as your step back into his touch, your pounding heart settling at the sound of his voice

"is everything alright, dear?"

♪ it's rare that he uses pet names with you, and so you blush slightly as the endearment slips from his lips.

"y'know this guy?"

"well, this language is rather improper. what, are you trying to scare them off?"

♪ he scoffs, taking the liberty to step in front of you and hover a hand above your torso, all while holding firm eye contact with his 'opponent'.

"excuse us, my partner and i have places to be"

♪ your not-at-all-secret admirer is left dumbfounded as tighnari takes your hand in his, hastily leading you away from the hustle and bustle. the two of you swerve to the right into a quiet corridor where he takes a moment to check you over.

"are you alright?"

♪ you assure him you're unhurt, both mentally and physically, before thanking him for intervening; planting a loving kiss on the corner of his mouth and another on the tip of his nose.

♪ only when he's fully convinced that you're unscathed do the two of you head for the exit, leaving the leftover errands for tomorrow after the unexpected turn of events.

♪ even after you arrive home, tighnari refuses to let you out of his sight, whining whenever you pull away from him or leave to grab a glass of water (stay hydrated!)

"i'll only be a minute"

"that's what you said earlier, then that idiot came and harassed you!"

"he wasn't harassing me, love. archons, 'this language is rather improper'-"

smack!

♪ the plush of a cushion collides with your cheek, interrupting your teasing as tighnari scurries away; whether it was out of fear or playfulness you will never know.

♪ either way, the two of you spend the rest of the evening chasing after each other, starting with 2 plump pillows and ending with empty cases, your hair tangled and covered in fluff and feathers.

♪ it's almost comical how something that was so serious in the moment becomes somewhat of a joke, but that's just the way your relationship works, and as long as he knows you're alright, tighnari thinks it's just fine...

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

TAGLIST…@maopll . @nyxmainex . @avensuersa apply here

© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[thevelvetvampyre]

The screening // cillian murphy x reader:

Summary: Your uncle Chris sets up a private first screening of Oppenheimer as a surprise after being gone for months filming. Cillian Murphy was also invited, much to your surprise. A few glasses of red wine later and a shared blanket leads to the actor getting handsy and needy for your touch.

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Fem!reader

Warnings: Age gap, smut, pure fantasy (not connected to real life Cillian), pro-longed teasing, fingering, dry humping, Blowjob, he’s a little pervy (BIG love), unsuspecting reader but all consensual (for the most part), pure smut + little to no plot / context

——————————————————————

“Uncle Chris!” You screamed with your hands reaching outwards, your legs moving as fast as they could through the white corridors to run into your uncle’s arms. It had been only a couple months since you’d last seen him but he’s just the absolute rock in your life, you wouldn’t know what to do without him.

“Hi Angel!” Your uncle knelt down onto one knee with open arms for you to run into. You did as such and soon you were being lifted off the ground in the biggest bear hug you had ever received. After spinning you around a couple of times he plopped you down and held your shoulders with a wide grin on his face.

“How are you my dear, are you excited to watch the film tonight?” He was so humble for all he had accomplished and he had never left you behind. Being your fathers brother was already exceptionally cool, nevermind having him adore you and treat you as his very own.

“I’m alright, and obviously I am! I’ve missed you so much” You pulled him into another hug and he let out a small chuckle. Looking up at him through your squinted eyes with a smile frozen on your face, you noticed his face had fallen into one of a curious nature.

“What is it?” You questioned, your brows furrowing.

“Now before I say this, I need you to promise me you won’t be upset my love” Letting go of the hug you took a step back and felt your heart thump a little harder.

“Well, it depends what is it” You crossed your arms and your eyebrows knitted tighter together.

“I also promised a certain someone that I’d show him the film before it got out to the public too. I understand you may be uncomfortable but I can assure you he’s a lovely man and won’t be any trouble for our family time” Uncle Nolan’s hands came up in defence, he knew how important this was for you to spend some alone time with your Uncle as you hadn’t seen him in so long.

“Who?” A million names flashed through your mind wondering who the mystery man could be. Your arms dropped to your side as you put your defence down.

“Right… well, it’s Cillian. Cillian Murphy. I just… I figured it would be fun and even exciting for you to see it with the man himself. I promised him and I could only get one copy. So why not just have a movie night together? Hm, what’d you say?” His face had fallen to one of a sympathetic and cautious look towards you. Of course, this wasn’t a big deal. But having the Cillian Murphy round for dinner and a movie was a massive deal. This wasn’t just an average man who knew your uncle.

Your heart stopped in place and you could’ve sworn your cheeks heated up. Your mind raced back to the first and only time you’d met the actor so far. Oppenheimer was on it’s first day of being filmed and your uncle shockingly invited you down for a couple of hours before the shooting began. You remember meeting all the incredible actors and having them shake your hand, treating you as royalty as you were the same flesh and blood as Nolan himself. All of them were sweet, treated you a little childish but sweet nonetheless. Small talk was being made when Cillian came over himself to talk to your uncle. As soon as his eyes met you, he continued his conversation as you continued yours but he had his attention glued onto you. His eyes trailed up and down your body as he licked his lips in between words and practically eye-fucked you right there in front of the whole crew. Now, you may be 28 years younger than the man but my god, did this cause a primal reaction within you. Your uncle noticed the staring between the pair of you and introduced you to each other, suspecting it was nothing more than curiosity of who the other was. His eyes glimmered as he traced your face and firmly gripped your much softer hand within his. While still gripping yours, he introduced himself as you did too. As soon as it had started, the moment stopped and your hand was empty of his. Remembering the scent of him, using that same hand to curl within you to hit your sweet spot and wishing it was him would be your fate for the months to come. But now, the man would be coming to your uncles house for the night, with you there. A sense of dread, nerves and excitement had filled you.

“Oh… um. Yeah, that’s fine” You said breathlessly.

Nolan had seemingly breathed a large sigh of relief. “Oh good. I’ll get dinner prepared.”

Your uncle smiled and walked over before quickly rubbing your arm and planting a kiss on your cheek, swiftly leaving the room and turned a corner to not be seen for the next few hours. Tonight would be one hell of an interesting one.

————————————

Sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging and one hand on the phone scrolling thorough one app or the other, your social media spree was violently stopped when the doorbell had gone off.

“Ah, here he is!” Uncle Nolan moved swiftly to the door and out of sight. The only thing you could hear was the door unlocking and the familiar thick Irish accent you had been craving to hear groan for the past couple of months.

“Cillian! I’m thrilled you could make it” Your uncle’s enthusiasm towards the man was unmistakable.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world” Cillian had chuckled.

The two voices started to get louder and louder as they made their way down the hall and came to a sudden stop once they had entered the kitchen. You slowly look up off your phone and make eye contact with the Irishman and saw a dark look painted on his face.

“Hi Mr. Murphy” you practically whispered. You couldn’t even fake a smile your stomach was in such a tight knot.

“Hi…” His voice trailed up as he smirked a guilty grin to your uncle.

“Oh come on Cillian, it’s only been a couple of months” He said in shock.

“Y/N” you giggled.

“Ah, right. Sorry. Days are too long it’s felt like years” He gave you a sincere smile. “Hello Y/N”. You were a tad disappointed he’d forgotten your name but the way it rolled off his lips a few moments after made up for the whole mishap. An awkward silence filled the room and the air got thick with tension.

“Right! Dinners ready, so please, if you’d like to sit down”. Your uncle broke the tension.

———

During dinner you could feel Cillian’s eyes burning into your forehead, not use to the attention and unsure of what to do to avoid the awkwardness you didn’t dare look up to the man opposite you.

Suddenly, the metal knife had clacked onto the floor.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Cillian ducked beneath the table to retrieve his knife. After about 6 seconds of him underneath you crossed your legs in insecurity to the fact you wore a skirt, now exceptionally short as you sat down.

“You alright there?” Uncle Chris asked.

“Yep” Cillian said breathlessly. “Got it”. His face slightly red coming out from the table.

“Darling, would you be so kind to fetch our guest another knife please” Your uncle said to you pointing the fork full of food in your direction.

“Sure” you said and stood up, patting down your skirt as you made your way to the kitchen.

As you reached the cabinet you huffed as you grabbed a knife and slowly closed it as you turned around. As you turned, you squealed as Cillian was standing a near few feet away from you.

“God- you made me jump” you said holding one hand to your chest.

“Sorry” He chuckled and crossed his arms as he lent on the counter.

“Can I help with something?” You said in an attempt to break the thick tension your eye contact was creating.

“Your uncle” He pronounced each word slowly and deliberately “asked me to fetch a bottle red wine for us.”

“Ah, well it’ll be here” You turned around and tip toed as you reached upward to pick up the wine off the shelf above. After 10 seconds of struggling to reach it, hoping the man would help you, you suddenly felt a cold breeze under your skirt and heard Cillian groan. Finally reaching the bottle you turned around and found him staring at your legs.

“You know… you should really buy longer skirts.” He said getting up off the counter and closing the distance between you. “I could see the black lace you’re wearing when I went under the table. It’s incredibly inappropriate to be wearing close to nothing when you’ve got guests over” He reached his hand out and grabbed the red wine between you, placing his hand over yours on the bottle and pausing to stare down into your eyes.

You gulped at the contact and how he said the words in such a threatening tone.

“Um… sorry Mr.Murphy” You whispered.

He chuckled at your easy compliance. “Darling please, call me Cillian” He snatched the wine and made his way back out the kitchen. You stood there in shock, frozen, watching as he left to the dining table and feeling a pulse in your panties at the nickname he just called you.

—————

Finally, dinner was over and the small talk was done. The glances you and Cillian kept snatching at each other was starting to build a warmth in your stomach and cause a heat on your cheeks. You walked around the table picking up each plate and bringing it to the kitchen sink before placing the dishes down and starting the water. A couple minutes later, a large set of hands found themselves snaked around your waist, a hot breath fanning on your neck and causing to the stop moving in shock.

“Such a good girl, cleaning the dishes” You heard Cillian groan into your ear. His breath smelled like wine and you could tell he was a little tipsy from the slight slur of his words. His chest was breathing heavily and you felt him press himself harder against your back.

“Why’d you stop? The faster you get these dishes done the faster we can start the movie”. His words sent shivers down your spine, you hesitantly started scrubbing again and the force of you moving caused him to groan under his breath. He pressed himself further against you and you tried your best to keep scrubbing and ignoring the heat building between your thighs. Just then, his hips twitched and you could feel a hard prod in your back, his hands gripping further into your side. His boner was painfully obvious now, you could practically feel his entire length on your back and he felt so big, it caused you to squirm as you continued your chore.

“Mhm, you feel that?” His lips were now pressed against your neck, his breathing tickling your skin. “How old are you baby?” His hips pushed hard enough for your hips to bang into the counter, causing you to welp.

“I um- I’m 20” You said slightly turning your face to look into his eyes.

“Such a young thing” His hand tucked the hair behind your ear. “I told you this skirt was too short. M’ thinking about the way you’d look bent over this counter” Naturally, he started slightly grinding against you now, bending his knees down to get a feel for your ass on his erection. “You always look this sexy?” He said, moving his head backwards while still keeping his hands on your hips to see how he looked rubbing against you. “You always dress so slutty for men twice your age?” You lowered your chest a little to give him more room, snapping your neck back to look at him as seductively as you could.

“No, sir” You said placing the last dish down, reaching your hand up to turn off the tap. He caught sight of this and brought his chest up to your back, pressing his hard on even harsher into your rear end. You whimpered at the harshness of his movement and he groaned again at the fast friction.

“No, no. We wouldn’t want Uncle Chris hearing now would we?” You removed your hand off the tap and stayed still as he had you pressed over the counter. He lent back again and glued his eyes onto your ass, swirling his hips on your skirt and having his mouth fall open agape, eyebrows furrowed, as he grind on your ass. Suddenly, he pulled your hips back which caused you to be bent over even more. He harshly placed his boner onto the back of your folds as you felt his cock press into your mound.

“I bet this pussy would feel so good around my cock” He thought out loud, causing you to moan at the sudden friction on your clit. His pace was still agonisingly slow, yet still being able to flood your underwear with desire.

“Cillian! Y/N! You guys ready? I’m about to start the screening!” Your uncles voice didn’t make Cillian stop moving. In fact, he still continued to grind on you and even grabbed your ass and swung his head back.

“Yes, Chris! I’m coming” Cillian chuckled with his eyes squeezed shut, forcing one more hump into you before pulling back and grabbing his clothed erection. Hearing your uncles voice scared you, threw you back into the reality of the situation you were in. You swung yourself around and pressed your back against the counter as you pulled your skirt down.

“Don’t look so embarrassed sweetheart, I’m sure your uncle is used to all the Hollywood whores” He tucked his boner up into his waistband and covered his shirt over the top, chuckling as he turned and walked out the kitchen. Again, there you stood in the kitchen frozen as to what just happened.

———

In the living room, a second bottle of wine was opened and had 3 glasses on the coffee table waiting to be drunk from. Neither your uncle or Cillian had sat down yet, as they stood next to each other figuring out the TV screen. Your uncle’s voice was slurring and his ability to stand straight was weakening. Finally, he plopped himself down on one of the sofas as you sat on the one next to it, grabbing the fur blanket and placing it over you. As you sat closer to the end than the middle, Cillian placed himself in the small opening next to you on your right and the end of the sofa, your uncle too drunk to notice Cillian’s seating choice he pressed play and the film began.

“M’ a bit cold love, you mind sharing that?” Cillian said grabbing the blanket and sliding it over himself. Now with his crotch and hands covered, you sat anxiously next to him as the film began. This was of course too close for comfort considering what just happened in the kitchen and you felt almost intimidated by his presence, still feeling the warmth of his body next to you and having that scent you’ve been craving go up your nose you figured the situation could be a lot worse.

15 minutes into the film, you felt a strong warm grip snake around your thigh, you jumping up and squealing in surprise. Before Cillian could say anything, your uncle slowly turned around and looked at you.

“Whats that M’love? You okay?” He gave you a sincere smile.

“Uh, yes Uncle Chris. I’m okay” You tried to sincerely smile back. “Mhm, good” He turned his focus back onto the screen.

“Good girl” Cillian whispered in your direction, now having his body slightly turned to face you with his right hand on your thigh. Considering how loud the speakers were in the at home cinema, it didn’t surprise you that your uncle didn’t hear his comment.

His hand would occasionally grip your thigh at different strengths for the next few minutes, slowly moving more and more up in anticipation and desperation. Each time he would squeeze, you would slightly whimper at the contact and hear him groan at your reaction to his touch.

“Mmm, so soft. You like me touching your thigh?” He purred into your ear. You shot him a look with wide eyes at his louder comment and gulped a response. All you could do was shake your head yes.

“Lemme feel more” he grunted as he quickly shifted his hands up to your groin, his index finger resting above your folds. Of course, because the skirt was so short it had ridden up by now.

“So dirty, wearing practically nothing for me.” Cillian had fully shifted now and was facing you, pressing his finger harder onto your clit and slowly started to rub delicate circles.

“Fuck, already so wet” Your hips twitched up in response as you laid further back into the sofa, giving him more access, wanting him to touch more. His pace stayed steady under the blanket with a delicate touch as he twirled circles with the tip of his finger, watching your every reaction to his movements. Your brows furrowed and your breathing was inconsistent, persuading him to start to pick up his pace to watch you come undone.

“Are you already gonna cum? Here? In front of your uncle?” Shame had filled you from his actions and how well you were responding to them, feeling embarrassed from your arousal and eagerness to cum on his fingers right there.

“You two enjoying the film?” Your uncle said, not bothering to turn back as his eyes were slowly closing. Cillian continuing to rub on your soft spot as your uncle spoke, never diverting his attention off of you.

“I-uhm-yes” You choked on your words. The heat in between your thighs was growing unbearable, wanting to undo right then and there. It had been so long since you had any sexual encounter, so you were extra sensitive to this mans experienced touch.

“Mhm” Is all Cillian could say, his eyes still glued on you, fastening his pace.

He pulled his fingers back and you could feel your stomach drop, squirming on the sofa wanting to be touched again. Just then, he swiftly shifted your panties to the side as you laid further back.

“Spread your knees for me love” He grunted under his breath. Of course, you did as you were told.

His middle finger circled outside your opening, slightly dipping in to pick up some of your arousal before feeling the full length of your folds. He did this a few times before circling once or twice on your clit. As you sat in anticipation, twitching at each slight touch he was giving you, he would differentiate the pressure he was applying onto your sensitive parts causing you to whimper and grow frustrated. Your eyes started to tear at the lack of and pressure of contact you were receiving. If your uncle were to look over now it’d be beyond obvious what was happening but luckily, he was drifting off to sleep due to his consumption of the wine. You glanced at Cillian as his eyes were stuck on you, his finger slowly breaching your entrance and your eyebrows furrowing in reaction. He slowly pushed his finger all the way to his knuckle and in response your head fell back and hips twitched up.

“Did you really think I forgot that gorgeous name of yours?” He spoke as he pulled his finger out again.

“I haven’t been able to forget your face since I saw you” He grunted as he shoved his finger back into you, causing a slight whimper on your part. You held his hand that was quickening up it’s pace as it fucked you, curling his fingers to prod your sweet spot.

“So tight, honey. Have you never been touched like this before?” He was breathlessly whispering as his finger fucked at a turbo speed into you and curling his knuckle to make you squirm and moan under your breath. You couldn’t speak from the friction, if you did you’d wake your uncle up from how loud you’d scream. He pulled out and gently pushed in another finger, causing your head to turn away and cover your mouth from making any sounds.

“I wanna hear you baby, moan for me” He said, finding that pace again that had you building up a knot in your stomach. “C’mon, look at me. I’ve been wanting to hear that sweet voice of yours for months” He taunted you as his fingers stopped moving and focused on aggressively curling them into you. All you could do was look at him for a split second before your eyes rolled back and you let out a small squeak, scared to even breath from how loud you wanted to scream around him.

“Mhm, that’s it” Your walls started to clench around him as you felt yourself building up. “You look so sexy like this” he praised.

“Cill-oh fuck- I’m cumming” You mustered. You said this possibly too loud while shifting aggressively in your seat and you couldn’t keep still, Cillian strong enough to keep you grounded with his fingers inside you and his face following your movements.

“Such a good girl. Cum for me” He praised you. Removing the blanket to see the damage he was doing, but still blocking your parts from your uncles view, he groaned at the sight of his fingers attacking your pussy, watching as you squirted slightly around his knuckles. Grunting at the sight beneath him, he fastened his pace and even moaned himself at the pleasure he was giving you. One of your hands was fisted into the pillow next to you and the other was around your mouth, muffling your sounds. The room filled with wet noises, which you hadn’t noticed in the state of your orgasm. Cillian grunted at himself as he felt you squeeze around him and squirt onto the sofa and blanket, not slowing down his pace as he shifted closer to you.

“Oh fuck- yes- just like that” Cillian whispered as he peered his head down to watch your pussy as you came.

Your head flung back and your eyes squeezed, shaking violently as the rush came over you. You felt a wave of cool fall from your head to your stomach as you finished right there and then, in front of your sleeping uncle, onto Cillian’s hand. He continued pumping in and out of you till you rode out your high, slowing down to give you time to recover. He pulled his fingers out and laid back to look at you with his fingers in the air.

“Suck” he commanded. You shifted carefully, still in a state of euphoria, and grabbed his hands and placed the two fingers in your mouth. You sucked them as seductively as you could as your tongue twirled around them. You’d never tasted yourself before, it was an odd taste as you weren’t use to it but still sucked his fingers clean of any of your liquid. As you pulled his fingers out of your mouth, you glanced down and saw a tent in his pants pointing directly at you. He chuckled as he looked down at his erection through his pants and grabbed it.

“Would you like to see it?” He asked, watching you carefully as he began to palm himself through his pants. All you could do was nod your head yes.

“Say it- I need to hear you say it” He was already breathless as he started picking up the pace that he was palming himself at.

“I want to see it” You said quietly. He nodded at you in encouragement.

“I want to see your cock” the words felt filthy but completely right.

Cillian moaned deeply as his head swung back, still grabbing at himself through his pants. Without looking back up, he grabbed your much smaller hand and placed it onto his boner and pressed your hand down in a signal to start petting him too. You watched in awe as your hand wrapped around his size, slowing moving your hand up and down as you watched his reaction to your touch.

“Take it out-I-I need to feel you” He said, eyes still shut as he struggled to get his words out through his breaths.

You did as you were told and unzipped his pants, he raised his hips to help you push his pants to his thighs and he raised his jumper higher onto his stomach, giving you a view of his cock through his underwear. After groping his size through the thin material a few times, his head swung down to look at your actions as his eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth open ajar. He gave a loud huff and groaned back at his impatience and you saw his adams apples bob as he swallowed.

“You’re so big Mr.Murphy” You whispered.

“Fuck- don’t call me that” He said in a grunt.

“Why? Does it turn you on?” You felt his cock twitch in your hand at your comment. He gave a fake cry and shifted his hips up in anticipation. “Y/N, please. Touch my cock” His eyes teary as they looked at you. Before continuing, you gazed back at your asleep uncle, making sure he was still out cold before continuing.

You pulled his cock out of his underwear and it sprung out onto his stomach. Lifting his jumper even higher to make sure it didn’t touch his tip, he watched as you grabbed him again in your hand and slowing started to pump at his tip. His head was already red and leaking precum down the sides of his shaft and twitched at any small friction you gave him. He groaned slightly at your touch and you began to pump faster, spreading the bead of white across his top with your thumb, causing his hips to twitch and he moaned at the touch.

“Does it feel good Mr.Murphy?” You asked innocently.

“Fuck-y/n” he said breathlessly through his teeth as he gripped your arm. “Use your mouth”

You stopped moving your wrist and looked at him through your swollen eyes, watching him lay next to you in vulnerability and desperate for more.

“Ask me properly” You grinned, his eyes now full of lust.

He reached up and grabbed your throat and gripped it till his knuckles turned white “I said, use your mouth” Although his grip was tight around your neck, you still smiled in pleasure and even felt yourself pulse at the sensation. He let go and you laid on your stomach next to him, still holding his length in your hand. Slowly, your mouth reached over and sucked his tip slightly, twirling your tongue around his head as you tasted the slightly salty substance spread on your palette. He groaned at the sensation and his head fell back. His hand left the side of the sofa and found it’s way intertwined through your hair, gripping tightly at your scalp as you began to take him in further down your throat.

“Oh fuck- just like that” he breathlessly said, snapping his head up to watch as you bopped your head around him. You looked at him through your damp lashes as you struggled to reach his base, beginning to gag as your nose tickled on his public hair. His expressions were encouraging you to go further as his eyes squeezed and he groaned through the small opening of his mouth, twitching his hips up and forcibly pulling your head further into him. Using your hand to wrap around the part you couldn’t fit into your mouth, his eyes fell open and looked to down at you in a face of exhaustion and desperation, his eyes seemingly heavy and dazed.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well” He praised. You could only muffle out sounds as his shaft filled your throat.

You pulled him out and moved your tongue onto his balls, twirling and sucking them while stroking his cock with your hand. The sudden movement caused him to twitch in your hand as his legs started to tremble.

“Oh my god-yes” He moaned out, gripping onto your hair tighter as his head sunk further down into the couch and his back started to arch.

Once you’d given his balls the attention they deserved, you moved your mouth back onto his length and starting bobbing your head at a fast pace, hollowing out your mouth and filling the room with suction noise.

“Fuck-keep going, I’m about to cum” He edged you on. Suddenly the point of being quiet was out the window, the walls had echoed his violent moans as they bounced throughout the house and he held your throat in place as the warm liquid shot down your throat. His head had pulled back and his hips had lifted off the couch, his grip was rough in your hair and his groans were deafening. He snapped his neck up and watched as the black mascara smudged down your crying eyes and drool had formed at the sides of your mouth, feeling the heat of him coat the walls in your throat.

After the moans had subsided and his grip lessened on your hair, you began to slowly bob your head around him again, watching as he winced in sensitivity from his orgasm. He pulled your head up and chuckled at the mess you had become. Suddenly, he pushed your head towards his and placed a wet, open mouth kiss onto yours, shoving his tongue in and twirling it against yours.

You sat back and for the first time in 40 minutes actually paid attention to the screen. He laid there with the softening cock out as he panted and caught his breath, occasionally looking over at you and petting your hair.

“I should come round more often” he said sincerely as he twirled your hair in between his fingers.

“I’d like that” You blushed.

“Next time I’ll have you cumming around my cock instead” for the words he was speaking, he did look incredibly sweet doing so.

A cough from your uncle had disrupted the moment, Cillian quickly pulling his pants up and getting under the blanket as he did before. Your uncle rubbed his eyes and sat up, turning towards the pair of you.

“Sorry, I dozed off there- hope I didn’t miss much” He said groggily.

“Nope, not too much. The film is fantastic” Cillian said earnestly. God, he was such a good actor.

“You two haven’t drank your wine! Come on, finish up” Your uncle laughed.

The pair of you lent forward and picked up your glasses, the three of you cheering to the movie night in.