#Fuck! Now I’m gonna have to write a fic about this aren’t I?

[kaythefloppa]

I fucks with the headcanon that Vitani is Scar’s daughter - For a lot of reasons (similar reasons as to why I see Zira as Scar’s mate, and Nuka as their son, even though I’m aware that there is on-screen evidence against that idea) but the one I love the most is that Simba’s parents —Mufasa and Sarabi— would be Vitani’s uncle and aunt and frankly, that’s a dynamic I rarely ever see in most fan works that portray her as Scar’s daughter.

Like, could you imagine Sarabi being a mental counselor to her adult niece, giving her life lessons, or maybe telling her truths about Scar himself that she and her brothers were sheltered from for years on end? I know a lot of people see Nala filling in for the mother figure after Zira is killed but Sarabi would also fits that spot (hate hate hate how the writers of Simba’s Pride excluded her from the script on the basis of “she had nothing to do” bitch be so fucken fr)

Or let’s say Mufasa, since if we acknowledge The Lion Guard’s canon, Vitani has the Roar of the Elders (which would ironically be a position that her father had which she’d be gaining, again, why I’m very attached to the idea), she could talk to the Lions of the Past, including Mufasa, and once again, she could learn truths about Scar that Zira had kept from him. It’s never even established whether or not the Outsiders even know that Scar offed his brother, which opens up another can of worms, like, what was he like before the tragedy, how much of Zira’s story of Scar was actually true? What was the truth behind him losing the Roar? Also, Uncle Mufasa; just saying that phrase is a serotonin boost. But if he could offer wisdom to his grieving son, his maturing grandson, and help manufacture a loving relationship between his granddaughter and his brother’s hand-picked successor, I see no reason why he wouldn’t be there for his estranged niece’s re-integration into her family.

This is all headcanon material/speculation, but in a scenario where Vitani is related to Scar, I would see a good element of her post-TLK/TLG story being a positive inverse of Simba’s — Simba’s uncle being the cause of his trauma, and Vitani’s uncle and aunt helping her overcome it.

chef’s kiss.

[wandaslittlebird]

You Look So Good (On Your Knees)

Voyeur!Mommy!Wanda x Daddy!Natasha x Reader

What was supposed to be just a weekly movie night quickly turns into something else when you catch a glimpse of something you weren’t supposed to see.

CW: Voyeurism, threesome, strap-on, flogging, orgasm denial (? A tiny bit?), caught in the act (once again a tiny bit), punishment, dacryphilia, degradation, hair pulling, choking (not really), reader calls WandaNat mommy/daddy

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is for @wandamaximoffsbadgirl. Thank you for all your help! I hope this was worth clawing your way under the door. Writing this (particularly the very end) has put me in a total WandaNat x Reader tailspin so expect some fluffy domestic stuff in the coming weeks.

A/N: I kinda sorta definitely double dipped for this fic, and it’s a spin of a different fic I did for a different fandom. But new fandom new crowd, and I figure almost none of you have read my non-marvel work. So the self-plagiarism is strong, but will probably go unnoticed anyway.

“Wanda? Natasha?” You called into the seemingly empty house.

It was Thursday night, your designated movie night with the couple: your long term friends and fuck buddies. They’d given you a key months ago. So, when you knocked and no one answered you just let yourself in.

You set down your bag in the living room, looking for them around the house. Their cars were both in the driveway. They had to be home. After investigating the first floor, you went upstairs. Maybe they were already in the bedroom waiting for you. That is where you always had your movie nights, after all.

You cracked the door open to find them both on the bed, Natasha underneath Wanda in an intense kiss. Natasha was grinding up against Wanda’s thigh, whining and breathless. You could tell by the way her hips were starting to falter, she was close. They must’ve been at this for a while. You didn’t want to interrupt.

You took a step back, trying to quietly shut the door. Maybe you could just wait downstairs until they finished. But before you could click the door fully shut, you heard Wanda’s commanding voice. “Not so fast, little girl.”

You sighed. You’d been caught. You opened the door back up, revealing Wanda pulling herself away from her wife. She looked at you with a cold glare, curling her fingers, instructing you to come to her.

She had you stand between her legs at the foot of the bed. “Did you not think to knock when coming into mommy and daddy’s room?”

“I-I knocked outside! I couldn’t find you! I was just looking for-“ you desperately tried to explain.

Wanda cut you off with a smirk. “Well, you found us.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh but honey, you did interrupt,” Wanda explained condescendingly. “You interrupted and now daddy doesn’t get to cum.”

“W-what? No but she was so close! Please let her cum mommy,” you pleaded on Natasha’s behalf. You genuinely felt terrible. You knew what that kind of denial felt like and you would never wish it on anyone, especially not your daddy.

Natasha smiled when you jumped to her defense, joining you and Wanda at the end of the bed. She beckoned you over to her, quickly pulling you to sit on her lap. She wrapped her arms around your waist, whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, baby. You're gonna make daddy cum so good later, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, shivering against her. God, you had hoped movie night would start like this.

“But for right now,” Wanda started. “We’ve got to teach somebody a lesson about knocking, don’t we? It’s your fault daddy didn’t get to cum, so daddy should be allowed to punish you, shouldn’t she?”

You looked to Natasha, who just raised her eyebrows expectantly, and then you nodded. “Yes mommy.”

“That’s our good girl,” Wanda purred, running her hand down the side of your face and lightly pinching your cheek. “Now, daddy’s gonna get you all set up on the bench while mommy goes to get some toys, okay?”

They both stood almost synchronously. Wanda briefly disappeared into the next room while Natasha hoisted you up in her arms, laying you face down on the leather bench next to the bed. She propped the back part up so it turned into more of a seat.

Wanda came from the closet with a long black leather flogger, her implement of choice for this particular scene. She handed it to Natasha, who smiled and gave her a kiss. Wanda sat down next to you, propped up over a seat you were now straddling.

She wiped the hair from your face. “Ready?”

You nodded into the soft, plush leather of the seat. You could already feel yourself easily slipping into that fuzzy space, where all the thoughts, worries, and responsibilities became irrelevant.

Wanda smiled, noticing the way your eyes glazed over. “I need to hear you say it, angel.”

“Yes, mommy,” you said as clearly as you could muster.

Wanda ran the back of her hand down your cheek. You shivered. She was the only lesbian you’d ever meet who always wore acrylics. The sharp point of her stiletto nails on your face sent tingles down your spine. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation.

You felt the leather tassels of the flogger brush lightly against your back. You whimpered, squirming in your seat.

“You don’t have to count, honey,” Wanda soothed. “Just let go. Mommy and daddy are gonna take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything at all.”

With that you felt the first sharp sting of leather snap against your back. You let out a noise between a whimper and moan. Natasha started slow, each hit a distinct sensation on your back, but as she started to pick up the pace, the strikes became less distinct.

In less than five minutes, she’d made a mess of you. You whined and squirmed against the leather seat.

“Aww sweetheart,” Wanda cooed. “Do you need mommy to hold you still while daddy whips you?” Before you could answer, the blows stopped.

“Nooo…” you whined. “Daddy keep going. Please I promise I’ll sit still. Please don’t stop.”

Despite your protest, you felt two strong hands pick you from your seat. “I’m not done, princess,” you heard Natasha’s soft voice say. “But you’ve gotta stop squirming or I’m accidentally going to hit you in the kidneys.”

You were lowered into Wanda’s lap, where your legs were forced wider apart in order to straddle her. It made it significantly harder to move. She locked her hand around your thigh to keep you in place. Her other hand gently massaged your hair. “That’s it honey. Mommy will make sure you stay nice and still.”

Her long nails against your scalp were almost enough to make the thoughts fly from your head. “But… But you’ll get hit.”

Wanda chuckled and kissed your temple. “Daddy has excellent aim, sweetheart. I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about anything at all.”

The leather cracked against your back again. It hurt more now that your back was already raw. If not for Wanda’s hand pinning you in place, you might’ve jumped off her lap entirely. You whined wrapping your arms around Wanda.

She cradled your head over her shoulder, gently shushing your cries as she watched Natasha bring the leather down against your back over and over again.

“Mommy…” you whined into her ear. You were trying to ride her thighs like you had ridden the leather seat, but the awkward position prevented you from getting any friction whatsoever. It wasn’t even until Wanda felt drops of warmth on her thighs that she realized why you were whining.

“Aww,” she hummed, “you’re making a bit of a mess on mommy’s lap, baby.”

“I’m sorry, mommy,” you mumbled into her shoulder. “I just… it feels so good.”

“All this just from a flogging, sweetheart?” She teased. She would’ve loved to tease you further, but she was genuinely afraid you’d accidentally hurt yourself if she stopped holding you in place, much less if she had her hand between your legs.

You blushed, burying your face into her neck. “Mommy…” you whined when the leather stung your back once again. “Mommy please…”

Wanda’s heart melted at your words. The combination of your pathetic voice begging her for relief and your frail body in her arms made her want to ruin you in a different way. You were just so vulnerable. It would be such a waste to not take advantage of you in this state. “Alright,” She cooed. “I think she’s learned her lesson, hasn’t she Tasha?”

Natasha chuckled, but she stopped her flogging. “Do you think she’s learned her lesson, or have you just gone soft for a ‘mommy please’?”

Wanda wrapped her arm around your back, long nails still masterfully massaging your scalp. She rocked you back and forth in her lap. “Oh come on Tasha, look at her: getting all pathetic and leaky in her mommy’s lap. Doesn’t it just make you wanna…”

“Throw her on the bed and fuck her into the mattress until the only things in her little head are mommy and daddy?” Natasha finished.

“Exactly,” Wanda smiled mischievously. It was such a marvelous thing that she married someone who was always on the same wavelength as she was.

You were promptly picked up out of Wanda’s lap from behind. You whined, reaching out for Wanda.

“Now now,” Natasha chided. “None of that. Mommy’s not going anywhere. She’s gonna be here with you the whole time.”

She guided you to kneel on the bed, nudging your legs apart. Almost instinctively, your hands were crossed at the wrist behind your back.

Wanda hadn’t exactly planned on binding your wrist, but when you sat so perfectly, so expectantly, she could hardly resist.

“Natasha, would you like to bind this little darling's hands for us?” She instructed.

Natasha smiled, eagerly grabbing a length of pink ribbon and getting to work on tying your wrists together. She so loved tying you up. While a simple figure 8 around the wrists would’ve done the trick, she decided instead on a more complex design that would bind you up to the elbow. She knew she had time. Wanda would require a thorough inspection before she’d let Nat fuck you.

Wanda ran a singular finger through your slit. Her cold rings and sharp nail bumped over your clit as she dragged her hand upward. The sensation caused you to jump and whimper. Wanda just chuckled, bringing her finger lightly up your body until it was at your lips. You took her finger obediently between your lips.

“Do you think your ready for daddy to fuck you, baby?” she asked. “Does this needy pussy want daddy’s cock?”

You nodded, trying not to wince as her rings made their way onto your tongue, filling your mouth with a metallic taste.

“Which of daddy’s toys do you want, huh?” She asked, intentionally pushing down on your tongue so you couldn’t talk. “I’ll think I’ll have daddy use the purple strap. The one with the- what did you call them- the ‘mean ridges’? The ones that scrap against your special spot?”

You whined around her finger, giving her the most endearing puppy dog eyes you could possibly muster.

“Oh sweetheart,” she cooed, “do you not like that one? Maybe you’d prefer it if daddy tied you to the chair and you watched her fuck mommy instead, hmm? Maybe you’d just prefer not to have any orgasms at all?”

You shook your head frantically. You wanted to protest, to promise you’d be good and take that dreaded purple strap, but you couldn’t speak.

She chuckled. “That’s what I thought, baby. You’re gonna be a good girl for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?”

You nodded. She pulled her finger from your mouth and tilted your head up to kiss you gently.

“That’s our sweet girl,” she praised. “Aw it looks like daddy’s finished tying you up all pretty. Can you say thank you to daddy?”

You craned your neck to the side, trying to see her behind you. “Thank you, daddy, for tying me up all pretty.”

Natasha laughed, pulling you back towards her by the ribbon. She kissed you and smiled. “You’re welcome, baby. Can you show mommy your pretty ribbon?”

You attempted to turn around to show Wanda the way your hands and arms were intricately bound behind your back, but Natasha pushed you forward into the mattress. You yelped, surprised by the sudden move.

“A present, wrapped special for you, my love,” Natasha said to Wanda, leaning over you to kiss her wife.

“You always know just what to get me,” Wanda breathed against her lips. “Now go get ready, love. I wanna watch you make our sweet little girl cry.”

Natasha climbed off the bed behind you, disappearing into the next room.

Wanda’s nails were against your sore back, rubbing soothing as you lay in wait. You attempted to sit up, but Wanda clicked her tongue. “No, baby,” she chided. “Stay just like this.”

You felt the bed dip as Natasha climbed back on behind you. Her calloused hands lifted your hips so you were kneeling tall. The angle forced your face even further into the mattress. You couldn’t put your hands out to hold yourself up with them tied up behind your back.

Natasha ran the tip of the strap up and down your slit, pulling a muffled moan from your lips. She lined the toy up with your entrance, gently easing it inside. She threw her head back and moaned as she felt each of the ‘mean ridges’ push into you, then she pushed your hips forward and pulled them back, silently commanding you to fuck yourself as you adjusted to her girth.

The toy was, admittedly, slightly too big for you to manage without any discomfort. The ridges cruelly raked against your inner walls, causing you to wince with each movement. But with time, you were able to adjust to feel only a slight, delicious stretch.

After you’d grown to a moderate pace, Natasha took over, grabbing your thighs and pulling them back to meet her own. You let your body go limp, allowing Natasha to control your movements completely. You were putty in her hands.

“Fuck, Wands you should see her from here,” Natasha groaned, looking down and watching the large toy disappear inside of you over and over again. “Fuck it’s like she swallowing me whole. Needy little cunt. Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock can you?”

You tried to bury your face into the sheets to muffle the noises she tore from you, but you were unsuccessful. Without your hands or your arms, your range of motion was severely limited.

Wanda’s eyes went wide and her face cracked into a smile when she heard the first hiccup of a cry. She leaned forward. “Tasha, hold her up. I want to see her face.”

Natasha reached down and grabbed your hair, pulling your head up so you were face to face with Wanda. She could see the build up of tears in the corners of your eyes and the way your bottom lip quivered, threatening to give way to a sob.

“Aww, sweet girl,” she cooed. “Are you going to cry for mommy? It’s okay angel, you can cry. Daddy’s not gonna stop fucking you even if you are going to be a sobbing little mess.”

Natasha fucked you harder, nearly pulling all the way out before she slammed back into you again. She kept your head up, forcing you to look at Wanda even as your eyes rolled back and your vision went blurry with tears. Natasha wrapped her hand around your throat, grabbing you just under your chin. She braced her forearm against your chest, pinning you upright against her.

The position only accentuated the effect of the ridges, causing them to bump more aggressively against the spongy spot inside of you. “Aww look at how pathetic you look, crying your little eyes out while daddy fills you with her cock.” Wanda teased.

You felt Natasha’s breath hot against your ear. “Tell mommy how pathetic you are.”

You offered little more than a whine in response. Your bottom lip continued to tremble as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Aww, sweet girl, there’s no need to be embarrassed,” Wanda assured. “It’s just me and daddy.”

You weren’t truly embarrassed, if you were being honest. You honestly felt like a masterpiece: a carefully constructed vision that Wanda and Natasha had crafted you into. But you played coy nonetheless. You had more fun when Wanda told you how pathetic you looked anyway.

“Poor thing,” Wanda taunted, “never learned how to take a proper fucking without crying.” Her eyes never left yours. Everything about watching her wife handle your helpless body drove her wild.

“I’m sorry mommy… I can’t help it… daddy’s cock feels so good inside of me,” you panted.

Natasha felt a burst of heat in her own core. Between yours and Wanda’s words she could feel herself creeping towards the edge. She just needed a bit of a different angle. She released her hold on you, causing you to fall helplessly back into the mattress. Wanda gently turned your head, preventing you from muffling yourself in the sheets.

You cursed. The combination of Wanda’s gentle hands and the new angle that hit all your most sensitive spots had you so close to an orgasm. All it would take was just a little more pressure on your clit. Unfortunately, with your hands bound behind your back, you were completely at their mercy.

“Please…” you begged mindlessly. “Please don’t stop. Fuck daddy. Please never stop.” You felt so certain that if Natasha pulled out of you right now, you’d simply die on the spot.

“You want to cum on daddy’s cock so badly don’t you?” Wanda teased. “But you can’t touch yourself. Poor baby.”

Natasha changed her pace. She could feel her own orgasm building as she felt the pull of the toy’s ridges pumping in and out of you. “Beg for mommy to let you cum, baby. I wanna hear you begging like the little slut you are.”

“Fuck!” you sobbed. The words poured out of your mouth nearly as fast as the tears poured from your eyes. “Please I’m all yours. I’m mommy and daddy’s little slut. Please, you can use me whenever you want. I’m just a little toy for mommy and daddy. Please I just need daddy’s cock inside me forever. Mommy please let me cum.”

“That’s a good girl,” Wanda praised, “begging mommy and daddy to use you like a little toy. That’s all you are right? A toy for mommy and daddy’s pleasure?”

“Yes!” you chanted. “Yes! I’m mommy and daddy’s toy. Please let me cum. Please mommy.”

“I wanna see you cum on daddy’s cock. Can you be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock for mommy?” She asked.

Natasha curled her arm around your waist, pinching your clit and milking it between her fingers. Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart.

Natasha continued to fuck you as you came, clenching around the strap. The pulsing put the perfect amount of pressure on her own clit, sending her into an orgasm not long after you.

She steadied herself on your hips, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure. She pulled the ribbon, and Wanda watched in fascination as the entire thing unraveled itself. They both chuckled as your arms bonelessly flopped down beside you.

Natasha hooked her arm around your waist to prevent you from simply collapsing when she pulled out. She laid you gently on your side before climbing off the bed. She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with Wanda.

You whined as the toy left, suddenly feeling terribly empty. Wanda sat down on the bed next to you, chuckling again as she bent over to kiss your temple. “I know, love. It’s just devastating that daddy can’t stay inside you forever, isn’t it?”

You nodded, whining again as you felt her wipe away the remnants of your orgasm.

“You did so well for us, love,” she praised, adjusting your position on the bed so you rested against the pillows. She pulled up some blankets, smiling as you wiggled in blissful content. “Comfy, honey?”

You nodded, reaching your arms out for her.

She crawled into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you. She kissed your forehead, earning herself a dopey, blissed out smile from you. She kissed your cheek, licking up what was left of a few salty tears. She moaned at the taste.

Natasha came out of the bathroom, freshened up in nothing but a pair or boxers. She joined you and Wanda in bed, crawling in next to you. She kissed the top of your head. “Are you girls ready for movie night?”

You nodded. “I already promised mommy she gets my movie night cuddles this time, though.”

“What the hell?” Natasha said jokingly, pulling you forcibly into her lap and berating you with kisses. “Daddy fucks you so hard you can’t think straight and mommy still get the movie night cuddles?”

You giggled, squirming out of her kiss attack. “You always fall asleep anyway!”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Because I just fucked you so hard you couldn’t think straight. You wear me out, little girl.”

“Fine, daddy cuddles until you fall asleep, and then mommy cuddles,” you compromise.

“That sounds perfect, princess,” Natasha smiled, kissing you briefly.

You looked to Wanda for her approval. She smiled. “Fine. You can cuddle with daddy for the 20 minutes she’s awake, and then you’re all mine for the rest of the night.”

You wrapped your arms around both of them, pulling them into a tight hug. “Deal.”

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ build a fic; forced proximity edition 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose a space, an object and a line of dialogue (a number, letter, + creature), and write/request to your heart’s content!)

𓂃 ࣪˖ a space

꒰ 1 ꒱ a broken-down elevator

꒰ 2 ꒱ a gas station bathroom

꒰ 3 ꒱ a dusty attic

꒰ 4 ꒱ a dimly lit storage locker

꒰ 5 ꒱ a ship’s brig

꒰ 6 ꒱ a bank vault

꒰ 7 ꒱ a wine cellar

꒰ 8 ꒱ an armoury

꒰ 9 ꒱ a hayloft

꒰ 10 ꒱ a shipping container

꒰ 11 ꒱ a holding cell

꒰ 12 ꒱ a firewatch outpost

꒰ 13 ꒱ a secluded cottage

꒰ 14 ꒱ a security hut

꒰ 15 ꒱ the foot of a massive redwood

𓂃 ࣪˖ a body part

꒰ A ꒱ thigh

꒰ B ꒱ palm

꒰ C ꒱ knee

꒰ D ꒱ pinky finger

꒰ E ꒱ ankle

꒰ F ꒱ eyebrow

꒰ G ꒱ nape

꒰ H ꒱ ear

꒰ I ꒱ calf

꒰ J ꒱ stomach

꒰ K ꒱ lower back

꒰ L ꒱ chest

꒰ M ꒱ hip

꒰ N ꒱ scalp

꒰ O ꒱ knuckles

𓂃 ࣪˖ a line of dialogue

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ “… would now a bad time to tell you that i’m claustrophobic?”

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ “i- “ “sh, honey.”

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ “you’re not okay, you’re shaking! what can i do? please, just- just let me help you.”

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ “shit, someone’s coming- in here, quick!”

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ “i’ve never been so glad that you run hot.”

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ “i’m gonna take my hand away, but you have to promise to stay calm, okay?”

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ “just never figured you for a little spoon.”

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ “your eyes are really pretty up close.”

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ “i know you don’t like to be touched, but there’s not a whole lot i can do about that right now.”

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ “we’re gonna need to talk about some things after this, aren’t we?”

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ “don’t bullshit me, i can hear your heart pounding.”

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ “you’re a real good hugger, y’know that?”

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ “i like your perfume/cologne.”

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ “of all the fucking people to get stuck here with, of course it had to be yo- “

꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ “i can’t believe that this is what it took for you to let me hug you.”

[gothcsz]

Obvious | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 4 of Unscripted Desire | ~12k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Life after quitting the porn industry.

Tags: halloween vibes, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex (protected), getting bent over in a parking garage, frankie heavy beginning (they had us in the first half not gonna lie), speaking of frankie he wears the ghostface mask while hitting it, connie has entered this little universe, masturbation with vibrator (f), clit stimulation, dirty talk, pussy slapping, JUST THE TIP!!!!, no use of y/n, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: surpriseeeee, i woke up a little too inspired to write and voila, out came this beautiful chapter that i was not expecting to get out so soon. again, this fic has def taken off in ways i never imagined but uhhh, we out here 🖤 thanks to everyone for the support, frankie girlies (gn) i hope i did your man justice 'cause i was feeling a little too feral for him. as for my just the tip stans... we did it joe 🤠 i hope you guys fucking love this the way i do and that you ruined your underwear... just as i did 🖤

The cool autumn breeze sweeps over you as you walk out of the movie theater with Frankie, the Halloween spirit in full swing. Scream 2 was as thrilling as ever, and your favorite of the trilogy.

The fall season always makes you feel nostalgic, and tonight has been no exception—dinner, a movie, and Frankie by your side for the past month has made things feel better than they have been for quite some time now.

“It’s not that hard to escape the bastard,” Frankie says confidently, as if he’d be the first to survive the whole ordeal. “He’s just some guy—or girl—wearing a mask with a knife. I’d have them handled in five minutes. Tops.”

You laugh, humoring him. “Oh, I’m sure you would.”

The parking garage is mostly empty, dimly lit as you make your way to his truck, parked at the top level. You’re talking casually about the film when he suddenly slows down, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face. He corners you slowly, backing you against the cool metal of the truck, his presence looming as you feel the tension rise. 

“Or,” he says, voice dropping lower, “I could be a real kickass Ghostface.”

Your eyes flick to the mask in his hand, the complimentary one that came with the tickets, and then back to him. His dark brown eyes gleam with playful intent, and a thrill shoots through you. “Oh yeah?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

He grins, slipping his cap off and pulling the mask over his face. Oh, shit. You’ve never had a mask kink before, but something about Frankie wearing it like this, his body pressing closer, has your pulse racing. 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks, his voice lowering to mimic what’d you just seen, a smooth yet eerie tone. It’s almost too good, too convincing, and you suddenly understand why people fantasize about this kind of thing.

You bite your lip, your mind swirling with desire as his hand slides down to your hip, squeezing gently. “I don’t have one,” you say, teasing him. You can barely see his eyes through the mask’s slits, but the way his head tilts makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, c’mon, hermosa,” he purrs, “don’t lie to me.”

You giggle nervously, feeling the heat between you both intensify. Glancing around to make sure you’re still alone, you place a hand on his chest, letting it slide down slowly until it reaches his belt. He grunts in response, his free hand gripping the back of your head tightly. The pressure sends a shiver down your spine, and you whimper softly.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” He asks, voice muffled slightly by the mask but dripping with lust.

“More than I’d like to admit,” you breathe out, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. And before you can process it, your jeans and underwear are being pulled down to your mid-thigh. Frankie wastes no time, maneuvering you into the backseat of the truck. You’re bent over, ass out, hands pressed against the cool leather as you hear him undo his belt, the sound of his zipper punctuating the quiet.

He’s quick, efficient, rolling a condom over his thick cock before positioning himself behind you. His hand grips your hip as he thrusts into you, and you gasp as he fills you, the mask still firmly on his face. 

It’s fucking amazing. Frankie fucks you like no one ever has—not like it’s for show or performance, but feverent and real. Each thrust hits the perfect spot inside you, sending your vision into a haze of stars. You’re more vocal than you’ve ever been, moaning his name, asking for more.

“Harder,” you whine, and he obliges, his nails digging into your hips as he pounds into you relentlessly. His grunts mix with your moans, the sound echoing in the empty parking garage. 

When he’s close, he finally pulls the mask off, tossing it aside before leaning down, kissing and nipping at your neck. His fingers move below you, rubbing at your sensitive clit as you clench around him, your orgasm rushing through you.

His teeth graze your skin as you both reach your peak, your body trembling as he groans, his release following yours.

He stills inside you, breathing heavily against your neck, and for a moment, everything is still—just you, him, and the night. You smile, feeling content, and he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before slowly pulling out, leaving you both breathless in the backseat of his truck.

“Well, fuck.” Frankie curses under his breath, tying the condom off with a quick motion. His hands, now gentler, reach for yours as he helps you up, both of you quickly fixing your clothes and appearances.

Once you’re situated, you spin around to face him, your fingers lightly brushing his jaw as you lean in to kiss him. It’s sweet, and the soft smack of your lips echoes through the empty parking garage.

“That was amazing,” you say, still a little breathless, your heart still racing in your chest.

A smirk plays on his lips as he puts his cap back on and tosses the used condom in a nearby trash bin. “Gonna have to hold onto this,” he says, nodding toward the Ghostface mask, now thrown carelessly into the backseat. There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, that flirty, teasing edge you’ve come to expect from him.

“It was definitely a heat-of-the-moment thing,” you say, trying to play it cool, though you can’t help the little grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Mhm, sure it was.” He winks, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you as he starts the engine, the rumble of his truck echoing as he pulls out of the garage.

The streets are alive with the Halloweekend night crowd. People spill out of bars, laughter and chatter drifting through the air as Frankie navigates through the bustling costumed scene. You catch sight of a group of friends stumbling onto the sidewalk, and you’re grateful that your apartment’s entrance is around the back, away from all the noise and chaos.

Frankie pulls up across the street from your place, parking the truck and turning to you with a slightly furrowed brow. “Not really a fan of your current living arrangement,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes serious.

You shrug, reaching for your purse. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” though you can’t deny you’ve felt the same way. The cramped apartment above a rowdy bar wasn’t your dream setup, but it’s what you’ve got for now.

Leaning over the console, you peck his lips once, twice, then again. What starts as a series of playful kisses quickly turns into something more, your hands finding his stubbled jaw as his fingers graze your thigh. Before long, you’re fully making out again.

When you finally pull away, your lips tingling, you ask softly, “Wanna come up?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes search yours for a moment, considering something. But then, with a slow nod, he says, “Yeah, okay.” His voice is steady, but there’s that familiar heat beneath it, the same one that had you wrapped up in the backseat earlier.

The following morning is spent with the both of you lazily lounging around your apartment, only leaving to pick up  a late breakfast from your favorite spot around the corner before you’re back in bed, sleeping the day away.

You’re barely aware of the warm breath ghosting over your inner thighs as you shift in your sleep, legs lazily spread across the bed. A sleepy moan slips out when you feel soft lips pressing against your pussy, then a firmer kiss followed by a slow drag of a tongue. 

You stir, half-dazed, your fingers instinctively moving to the unruly curls of hair between your legs as the sensation intensifies. Frankie’s lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently, and it sends a shock of pleasure through your body, waking you up fully.

“Oh,” his name slips from your lips like a breathless confession. 

You can feel his grin against you, hear the low groan vibrating through your sensitive flesh as he takes his time, his tongue swirling around you in lazy circles, savoring your taste.

Just for a second, a flash of something—or someone—else crosses your mind. Javier. The thought of him, of the way he’d made you fall apart that day in the elevator, flickers in your mind like a flame.

Your eyes fly open in shock, and you gasp, but Frankie is none the wiser. He assumes your reaction is all because of him, and that only spurs him on. His lips press harder against you as he brings two fingers up, spreading you open gently before sinking them inside. 

You shake your head, mentally shoving him back into the recesses where he belongs.

With a determined focus, you let yourself melt back into the pleasure, letting go of everything else. “Pussy tastes so good, hermosa,” he mumbles, as he works his mouth and fingers together, creating a messy, perfect rhythm that has your thighs clenching around his head.

It’s all too much, too good, and you can’t help the way your body writhes beneath him.

Your moans fill the room, louder and more desperate, hips lifting and chasing the pleasure as the tension in your spine coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, and you come undone all over his lips and fingers.

Frankie doesn’t stop right away—his lips stay on you, moving with less intensity now, just soft kisses as you come down from your high. He places a final, lingering kiss to your clit before he crawls up your body, kissing a path along your skin. You’re still wearing his t-shirt, your body half exposed, and he grins down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with satisfaction. 

“Figured you needed something to help get you through your shift,” he says, his voice teasing yet full of affection.

You give him a lazy, fucked-out smile, still catching your breath. “It’s gonna help me with more than just my shift, mister. You just gave me something new to add to my spank bank.”

He shakes his head playfully. “Spank bank, huh? Glad to be of service,” he adds with a wink, leaning in for another kiss, slower this time. You can’t help but run your hands over his arms, admiring the small scars, the beauty marks that dot his tan skin.

“Are you coming back tonight?” You ask softly, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for a peck.

He sighs against your lips before shaking his head. “Can’t. I’ve got Elliana this weekend,” he says, his tone softening as he mentions his four-year-old daughter. You haven’t met her yet, the two of you keeping things casual and slow.

Neither of you wants anything serious, but hearing him mention his daughter always adds a layer of sweetness to him that makes you feel warm.

You nod in understanding, pulling him down for one final kiss before you force yourself to get up and start getting ready for work. He watches you, that same teasing, affectionate glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but smile back at him, grateful for whatever this is between you two.

“You just got fucked, didn’t you?” Connie’s voice hits you the second you step behind the bar, her eyebrows wiggling with mischief as she leans against the counter, arms crossed over her Princess Peach costume that’s not really a costume—just a pink tennis dress with the signature crown atop of her head. 

“Hello to you too, Connie.” You give her a sarcastic smile, securing the half apron around your waist. It’s a routine now—her prying into your business like an investigative reporter for the gossip section.

Reminds you of another blond, and now you wonder if they’re all just like this.

Your firecracker of a coworker is an E.R. nurse who took on this bartending gig a few months after you did. The fact that she has to hustle for tips despite being in healthcare is one of those cruel ironies you both bitch about during slow shifts. You’d think a nurse would be raking in cash, but there are nights here at Lucky’s where she pulls more than at the hospital.

“I’m just saying,” Connie continues, mid-lemon slice, her eyes narrowing in exaggerated suspicion. “You’re wearing your cute jeans, your shirt’s actually clean, and—wait, is that makeup on your face? Please don’t tell me you’re in cat ears!” She pauses, blade in hand, smirking at you like she’s cracked some secret code.

Your face warms up as you adjust the stupid cat ears on your head. Yeah, she’s nailed it—hooking up with Frankie before your shift definitely put some extra pep in your step tonight. A little effort never hurt, especially when looking put-together meant better tips.

It’s Halloween, and people tend to tip better when you’re festive. So, why not milk it for all it’s worth?

“Just capitalizing off the holiday, Con. Is that a crime?” You say, bending down to grab the ice buckets for a quick refill before the evening rush hits.

“No, what is a crime,” she says, not missing a beat as she narrows her eyes at you, tossing the lemons aside, “is you skimping out on the juicy details of your love life.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that slips out as you hip-check her on your way to the ice machine. “I’m not skimping. It’s not like I’ve been hiding some wild love affair. We only started fucking, what, like two weeks ago?”

“And?” She leans forward, hands on her hips, waiting like she’s tuning in for the next episode of her favorite drama.

You bite your lip, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “It’s… fucking amazing.”

She whistles, then throws her hands up in celebration. You can’t help but laugh—loudly—your mood is too good to even pretend to be embarrassed.

Grabbing the freshly filled ice buckets, you lug them back behind the bar, your arms burning slightly from the weight, but you’re not complaining. Between lugging buckets and keeping the bar stocked, who needs a gym membership?

“I’m so jealous. I can’t even remember the last time I slept with a guy and actually enjoyed it,” She says with a dramatic sigh, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“Trust me, I was in the same boat for the longest time. Then Frankie just… showed up,” you say with a small, satisfied smile. It’s true, he kind of did swoop in out of nowhere, and it’s been surprisingly easy with him since.

But, of course, there’s that brief hiccup in your mind that involves Javier. 

You push the thought of him away, like you’ve been doing for weeks. What happened earlier in bed with Frankie was just a slip-up, your subconscious messing with you.

“Well, I need a guy to just show up and fuck me so I can think straight again,” she half-jokes, and the two of you burst into laughter, the kind that shakes your shoulders and draws a few curious glances from nearby patrons.

As the night picks up, the bar gets busier, and the usual rhythm settles in. You and Connie move in sync, the crowd buzzing with energy.

Costumes, chatter, and the clinking of glasses surround you, but you’re in your zone. It’s not until about two hours later, as you’re pouring someone’s vodka soda, that you catch sight of a familiar face sliding into a barstool in front of you.

“Long time no see, stranger,” you greet Steve over the music, already reaching for his usual piss beer and uncapping it before sliding it across the counter.

“Work’s been fucking ass,” he replies, taking a long, much-needed gulp from the bottle. You can see the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“Robbie still being an asshole, I presume?” You ask, shifting away to take another patron’s order while keeping half an ear out for whatever fresh hell your ex-boss has put Steve through now.

Steve’s attention, though, is fixed on something—or rather, someone—else. His gaze locks on Connie, who’s busy putting on a little show for a group of birthday girls. She’s expertly pouring a line of shots, lighting them on fire, and sliding them toward the group, who erupt into cheers.

“She seein’ anyone?” He asks, leaning in closer, like he’s trying to keep the question discreet. Between the thumping music and the lively chatter, Connie wouldn’t hear him even if he shouted.

You raise a brow. “Like I told you last time—and like she told you the time before—no.”

“Then why’s she always shuttin’ me down?” He frowns, frustration creasing his face.

You shrug, wiping down the perpetually sticky counter. “Probably because you only approach her here, when you’re halfway through a six-pack. Connie’s not looking for bullshit—she deals with enough of that here and at the hospital.”

Steve scoffs, taking another hefty swig of his beer. “Right. You bartenders are tough to crack.”

You smirk, knocking your knuckles on the wooden bar top. “Maybe, but we’re worth the effort.”

Steve chuckles at that. “Now, spill. I’ve barely seen you since I quit.” You’re curious, and maybe just a little petty.

He groans, tipping his head back as if the memory of work physically pains him. And a part of you—maybe the slightly vindictive part—waits eagerly to hear about how Robbie’s screwing up, still secretly wishing for your old boss’s downfall.

“Longer shoots for lesser pay. And the fucking guys he’s been hiring— Christ Almighty. S’been a fuckin’ shitshow since you walked out,” You feel pride swell up in your chest at the remembrance, how good it felt to stick up for yourself. “But especially since Javier kicked his ass to the curb. I’m the last one standing.”

You barely have time to absorb this before a rowdy group of frat boys descends on the bar, demanding drinks with the enthusiasm of toddlers in a candy store.

You want to wring their necks for interrupting your train of thought, especially since curiosity about what happened with Javier is gnawing at you.

Why do you care? That small voice in your head questions, but you put her on mute and focus on fulfilling the orders of these insufferable college students.

Noticing you’re tied up, Steve hops down a few barstools, positioning himself in front of Connie, trying to charm her again. You can’t help but catch snippets of his pickup lines as you whirl about behind the bar. To your surprise, Connie seems receptive this time, laughing and engaging with him instead of brushing him off like before.

Good for her—she deserves a bit of fun, especially after just saying she needed to get laid. You hope Steve has learned a thing or two from all those shoots.

Amid the chaos, you break through their flirting when Connie has to prepare another round of shots. “So, Javier quit?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can hold them back.

Steve, clearly happy as hell that his advances have finally worked, shoots you a smug grin. “Yup. Him and Robbie were arguing more and more then he pulled a you and stormed off set. It’s just him and his agent now. He isn’t signing on to just one production company anymore. Don’t be surprised if you see him sellin’ tricks on Figueroa.”

A frown tugs at your lips, the bittersweet news settling in your chest. You can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Javier.

“Why are you askin’? You miss him or somethin’? Thought you were still bangin’ it out with that camera guy from Malibu.” His tone is teasing, reminiscent of a little brother trying to get under your skin.

You snort, rolling your eyes and collecting the empty glasses into a plastic bin. “ I’m just surprised. This is like, his whole thing.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, he hasn’t been working as much. I’ve never seen the guy be this… still. Told him maybe it’s a good thing—he can finally chill the fuck out and give his dick a break.”

You can’t help but laugh, handing him another beer. “I can’t even imagine what else he’d do. Can you seriously picture Javier Peña working a 9 to 5?”

Steve grins, scratching his chin as if pondering the idea. “I dunno, he could be a good car salesman. Maybe even insurance?”

You both chuckle, but as you excuse yourself to put away the dirty dishes, your mind lingers on Javier. It’s like a weird domino effect: your departure had shaken things up, and now a small part of you feels somewhat responsible for this mess.

No, you shouldn’t feel this way. He’ll figure it out. You really shouldn’t waste this much time ‘worrying’ about him. He means nothing to you. End of story.

The rest of your shift flows smoothly, and you end up pocketing more tips than you anticipated. Even the late hour—almost four in the morning—doesn’t faze you as you and Connie finish cleaning up and closing.

“You can stay the night if you want. I’m sure you don’t want to wait for the bus this late,” you suggest, watching her mop with a satisfied smile.

“Actually…” She pauses, wringing out the mop head. Your brows raise at her tone, and she bites her lip. “My ride is waiting for me out front.”

You piece it together in an instant, halting mid-count of the twenty-dollar bills. “No way, you finally gave in to Steve!”

Connie’s face lights up with a sheepish smile. “I thought he was cute since day one. I just couldn’t let him get to me so easily. Play hard to get, you know? See if he really wanted me as badly as he said he did.”

You hum, shaking your head with a grin as you resume counting. “Atta girl. Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.”

As you finish up, you hug Connie goodbye, watching as she excitedly jumps into Steve’s Jeep. You trudge up the creaky stairs to your place, feeling a bit lonely now.

The remnants of Frankie’s presence linger in your cramped apartment: his side of the bed still mussed, a crumpled T-shirt on the floor, and takeaway containers from earlier scattered on your small kitchen table.

With a sigh, you take off your cat ears and head straight for the shower, hoping to wash away the lingering thoughts of both Javier and Frankie before slipping into the quiet of your own bed.

Frankie stands in your living room, his expression serious but soft, while you sit on the couch, staring up at him.

You foolishly didn’t think this would happen—at least not this soon, only two months in. His words are steady, measured, like he’s practiced this. “Elliana’s mom and I… we’re trying to work things out.”

The lump in your throat rises, but you refuse to let it crack your voice. You won’t give in to the urge to cry. It’s not like you didn’t expect this on some level—dating a man with a child meant his ex would always be in the picture. And now, she’s front and center. 

“I understand…”

He exhales deeply at seeing you like this. He sits next to you, close but not invasive, and his presence—still so familiar—only sharpens the ache. You don’t pull away, though everything inside you screams to. Even if this is the right way to end things, you have every right to feel a sting. 

You weren’t serious-serious, but you’d gotten used to him. His easy warmth, the random dates that brightened your week, the small slice of domesticity you didn’t realize you’d grown to like. And the sex… God, you’re not ready to give that up, either. 

“I didn’t mess around with her while we were together. You have to know that,” he adds, his voice low, calm, as if trying to make sure you’re not left with any doubts. He rests his hand on your knee, grounding you in the moment, though you wish he wouldn’t. 

“I know you’re not that guy, Frankie. It just sucks being broken up with,” you say, forcing a smile, lightening your tone as if to keep the tears at bay.

He sighs again, his big brown eyes—those damn puppy eyes—locking onto yours. “I really enjoyed my time with you,” he says, sounding sincere. “It was great. You’re great.”

You nod, just wanting this to be over so you can sink yourself into your sheets and rot for the rest of the day. 

“Likewise, Frankie. Now go make sure your daughter’s got a stable home to grow up in.” You try to smile again, but it’s weaker this time. He can see through it, you know, but he nods anyway.

You walk him to the door, making a quick detour to your bedroom to gather the few t-shirts he’s left behind. When you hand them to him, he grins, trying to lift the mood. “So that’s where these went.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a t-shirt hoarder,” you joke back, your voice hollow.

He pauses at the door, his eyes lingering on you longer than you’d like.

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too, hermosa,” he replies, the affection in the word making your heart squeeze.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, you let yourself collapse against it, sliding down until you’re sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest. The tears come silently at first, just a slow trickle, but soon they’re streaking down your cheeks as you curl into yourself.

You hate dating. You’ve always hated it. It feels like a cycle of disappointments: either you’re stuck with some dud or, worse, you find someone worth a damn, and they leave anyway. 

After crying it out for a few minutes, you force yourself to wipe away the tears. The ache in your chest lingers, but you’re determined to distract yourself, dragging your feet over to the entertainment center. Your hand glides over the familiar spines of DVDs and VHS tapes, searching for the right kind of escape, something to pair with the bottle of wine you’ll snag from downstairs.

You reach the end of the row and stop on Pretty Woman, about to pull it out, when your fingers brush against a few unmarked DVDs shoved haphazardly in the back. Curious, you pull them out, and your breath hitches.

They’re your old shoots—the first ones you ever did with Javier. The raunchy titles leap out at you, and suddenly, memories of being on set with him flood back. The chemistry, the heat, the way he looked at you when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Your pulse quickens. You should put them back. But you don’t. You weren’t prepared for this— especially not today, freshly dumped, on the verge of a sexual drought, and with your head all messed up.

Fuck it, you have nothing to lose, so you randomly pick one. Pretty Woman gets shoved aside as you clutch the DVD case, a weird thrill running through you.

As if possessed, you march to your bedside table in your bedroom, frantically rummaging for your long-neglected vibrator. It’s been gathering dust since Frankie showed up, but now… now you’re hoping, praying it still works. When you finally find it, you flip it on, and the gentle hum tells you it’s fully charged.

Thank you, past me. You have no idea how much present me needs this.

With a deep breath, you return to the living room and pop the DVD into the player. The screen flickers to life, and you settle onto the couch, heart pounding in your chest as the film begins. 

The anticipation builds as the usual no-piracy warning flashes on the screen, followed by the production company’s intro. Finally, the familiar jazzy porn music kicks in, setting the mood for what’s to come.

You can already feel your pulse racing, knowing what’s next. This one, you remember—it was one of the first outdoor scenes you shot.

The setup was simple, classic: a woman stranded on the side of the road due to car trouble, waiting for a tow truck to save her. The main star, gorgeous as ever, is dressed provocatively in a tiny miniskirt, platform flip-flops, and a tube top that screams easy access. The camera lingers over her, capturing every curve of her body as she fakes helplessness, playing her role perfectly.

Then comes the rumble of the tow truck, and Javier steps out, looking rugged and sexy in dirty jeans and a rumpled denim shirt with a generic towing company patch stitched onto it. His presence alone is enough to make your skin prickle with heat.

“Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be stuck out here like this,” his voice fills the room. God, you hate to admit it, but you’ve missed hearing him—his smooth tone, the way he used to make every line sound like a promise.

Maybe it’s the leftover emotion from Frankie’s breakup that’s doing this to you, making you feel too much.

“Thank goodness you’re here to help me out. I just... I don’t have any money on me right now to pay for it,” the woman pouts, lips glossy, eyes fluttering up at him like she’s the most innocent thing alive.

Javier cocks his head, eyes traveling over her like she’s a piece of candy. “Don’t worry,” he says, that signature smirk appearing on his face. “I think we can figure something out.”

And just like that, they’re fucking. Raw, desperate sex. He has her spread out on the hood of the car, and her tits bounce with every hard thrust. Javier holds her legs wide open, his rough hands gripping her thighs as he slams into her.

The scene is pure, animalistic lust, and it has your head spinning.

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your moans mix with theirs from the TV, and the steady buzz of your vibrator pulses deep inside you. You match the rhythm of Javier’s thrusts, watching as he pistons his cock in and out of her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your living room.

You remember that day on set vividly. You’d been sick, your body still sore from the remnants of a cold, and you’d been eager to get it over with so you could go home and collapse into a warm bowl of pho.

But now, watching the scene play out in front of you, it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time—every detail heightened, every movement burned into your mind.

Javier’s fingers dig into her skin as he holds her in place, his hips grinding into her with force. Her face twists in bliss, and you can’t help but imagine what that must feel like, that deep, toe-curling sensation as he hits just the right spot. You let out another moan, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly as you try to keep up with the scene, your hips rocking in time with theirs.

When he leans down, wrapping his lips around her nipple, it’s like you can feel the phantom of his mouth on your own skin. You bring a hand up to your chest, pinching and twisting your nipple, slicking your fingers with spit to heighten the sensation. It’s almost too much, but you can’t stop yourself.

Your breathing quickens as you turn up the setting on the vibrator, the pleasure building, your back bending off the couch. You close your eyes and let your imagination take over, the image of Javier on top of you searing into your mind—his body, hot and heavy, pressing against yours, his teeth grazing your neck, his hands everywhere at once. You can feel him, hear the grunts and groans from the screen, but in your mind, it’s all for you.

“Nena, look at you,” Javier’s voice murmurs, low and rough in your mind, as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, his words melting into your skin like liquid heat. “Told you you’d look so beautiful spread out like this, taking my cock so well.”

A sharp gasp escapes you, your breath catching in your throat as your pussy clenches tightly around the vibrator, which suddenly feels less like a toy and more like him—big, thick, and filling you completely. You can almost feel the weight of him pressing against you, the way his cock would stretch you just right. Your lips part, another whimper escaping as the scene in your head becomes even more vivid.

“And those noises you’re making?” His voice, rich and dripping with desire, keeps echoing through your thoughts. “Baby, you drive me fucking,” his hips snap forward in your imagination, rough and unrelenting, “crazy,” another thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your neck arches back, exposing your throat like you’re inviting him to claim you, his mouth finding the sensitive skin behind your ear, marking you, biting you. His lips would feel so good, so possessive, leaving trails of heat wherever they touch.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your skin, his breath hot in your ear. “Even after not seeing your pretty face for two months, all I see when I close my eyes is you.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your hand moves from your breast down to your clit, fingers rubbing the tender nub with an urgency you can’t hold back any longer. You’re so close, so fucking close. 

“Oh, J-Javi,” you cry out, your voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”

The orgasm slams into you, cutting off your words, drowning your thoughts in white-hot pleasure. Your body spasms uncontrollably, juices dripping down as your vibrator hums between your legs. You’re shaking, utterly spent, your breath ragged, skin on fire.

“Good girl, nenita,” his voice purrs, the Spanish rolling off his tongue like honey. “Mira que belleza. It’s okay, I got you.”

It takes a moment for reality to snap back into place, the haze of pleasure lifting just enough for you to realize that he didn’t say it at all. It was the Javier on the screen, whispering sweet praise to the actress as he fucked her.

You lay there, boneless, too tired to care as the movie continues to play. But something feels off now, a strange sense of emptiness replacing the satisfaction you usually feel.

You pull the vibrator from between your legs, the wetness from your climax glistening on it as you flick the switch off and toss it carelessly onto the coffee table. You’ll clean it later.

Your body slumps against the cushions, head falling into your hands. “What the fuck did you just do?” You whisper to yourself.

Watching porn to get off? That’s normal, right? It’s what it’s made for. Lots of people do it. So why do you feel so… guilty? Is it because it was Javier? Of course it is. No matter how hard you try to push him out of your mind, he always finds a way back in—whether he’s there in front of you, or haunting you in the fantasies, you can’t seem to put him to rest.

And the timing? Not even an hour after being broken up with, and already you’ve let him worm his way back into your head, back into your body. It’s like he’s got you tangled up, literally and figuratively, even when he’s not here.

Unable to take any more of their exaggerated moans and whimpers, you reach for the remote and switch off the TV, the screen going dark as you eject the disc and shove it back into its case. You finally grab Pretty Woman, tossing it into the player without much thought, your head still spinning.

It’s only then that you remember the wine, the one thing that might actually help clear your head. You stand, sluggish and sore, pulling your clothes back on and heading downstairs to fetch that much-needed bottle, your thoughts still racing, still trying to untangle the mess that is Javier Peña lodged firmly in your mind.

“Just know, I didn’t plan this.”

Steve’s words make you squint in suspicion as he slides onto the barstool next to you, his usual spot. You’re about to ask what he means when your heart plummets—there he is. The familiar broad frame of the handsome man you’ve been trying—and failing—to scrub from your mind ever since your breakup two weeks ago. Hell, before then too.

“What’s he doing here?” you hiss, shooting Steve a glare so sharp it could cut glass.

“He caught me off guard, okay? Basically invited himself. Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, clearly trying to avoid your wrath.

You bite down hard on your tongue, trying to keep your frustration in check. But then your gaze collides with Javier’s, and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you.

Those deep brown eyes, glinting beneath the dim lighting, pin you in place, stirring up everything you’ve been trying to bury. It’s infuriating how he seems even more attractive than the last time you saw him, like life just decided to up the ante on making him impossible to forget.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to look away, frantically trying to busy your hands. Anything to keep from talking to him. But it’s hard to focus when every cell in your body is hyper-aware of his presence just a few feet away.

“I’m going on break!” Connie’s chirpy voice feels like nails on a chalkboard, and you don’t miss the way she winks at Steve before grabbing his arm and leading him to the back.

Ah, so that’s why he’s here earlier than usual. 

“Thirty minutes!” You shout after her, but your heart’s not in it. You’re too preoccupied with the fact that you’re now alone at the bar with Javier and a few of the happy hour regulars.

He leans forward on his elbows, casual but impossibly magnetic in a jean jacket and a cream-colored shirt. His sunglasses hang from the unbuttoned portion near his collarbones, and you can smell that familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cologne that’s been seared into your memory. “So this is the illustrious Lucky’s,” he says, his deep voice wrapping around you like a slow burn.

“The one and only,” you manage to reply, keeping your tone clipped.

“Been doin’ okay?”

“I’ve been managing.” Your words come out a little too quick, a little too defensive, but you can’t help it. 

He tilts his head, his gaze steady. “Still seeing that guy?”

There’s an unmistakable tinge of jealousy laced in his voice, and your heart skips a beat. You meet his eyes for a moment before going back to drying the cheap chalices your boss insisted on for an upcoming theme night.

“That guy has a name,” you correct him coolly. “But no. That ship sailed two weeks ago.”

A low hum escapes his throat, and he drums his fingers lightly against the countertop. “A shame.”

“Can I get you anything?” You ask, a little too forcefully. The question feels like a challenge, and from the way his eyes glint, you know he feels it too.

He lets the tension simmer between you for a moment before finally answering, “Just a Corona.”

“Lime?” 

“Of course, nena.”

That fucking term of endearment hits you like a punch to the gut. It’s what he’s always called you, ever since the very first time you met. And damn it, it’s the same name he whispers in your ear when you imagine him thrusting balls deep inside you, filling you with every inch of his cock.

Your breath hitches before you can stop it, the heat rising in your cheeks as you fumble for a lime. You slice it, hands shaking ever so slightly as you wedge it into the bottle, sliding it across the bar to him.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his gaze burning with the unspoken tension that always builds when you’re around each other.

You can feel it too—the weight of all the unsaid things hanging in the air. All the desire. All the frustration.

He thanks you softly. “So, Steve finally got himself a girl.” He tries to continue the mundane conversation, amused as he leans in, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You try not to notice the way his neck muscles work when he takes a sip of his beer, but it’s impossible not to. You hate the way your body responds, the small flutter in your stomach that you wish would just stop.

“Yeah, he’s been chasing her for months, and she finally gave in. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened for both of them.”

A patron calls for your attention, and you gladly take the opportunity to escape the moment, throwing yourself into mixing a drink with practiced ease. But even as you pour and stir, you feel his eyes on you.

“You look happier here.” His voice breaks the silence when you return, the words almost lazy as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Fake happiness. It’s what gets the tips.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” he says, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing. “But the way you’re moving back there—you know what you’re doing. I don’t think I ever saw you crack a single smile while we were on set.”

“I did,” you shoot back, feeling your pulse quicken. “Just none of them were directed at you.” The animosity in your tone surprises even you, and you catch the way his brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his face.

You quickly smooth it over with a smirk. “Besides, not much to smile about when people are getting fucked stupid in front of a camera.”

“Back to the familiar song and dance, huh?” His voice is steady, but there’s a sharpness beneath the surface.

You scoff, shaking your head as you wipe your hands on your apron. “What are you doing here, Javier?” This time, the question comes out more straight to the point.

He looks at you for a beat, partially confused, “Drinking a beer…”

“At this specific bar, where I’ve worked for two years and you’ve never once showed up until today. Why?” 

For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, locked in a silent standoff. He’s reading you just as you’re trying to read him, both of you too proud—or too scared—to make the next move. Finally, he breaks the silence.

“You want the truth?”

“That’s why I asked.”

“I’ve missed you, nena.”

Your stomach drops and you force yourself to keep your face neutral, but it’s hard. “I regret asking,” you mutter, glancing at your watch. Connie has fifteen minutes left on her break, then you’re done for the night. You’ll be free—at least from the bar, if not from the weight of this conversation.

“Ever since you left,” he continues, not giving you the out you desperately want, “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re so standoffish. You say it’s because you don’t like me, but I just don’t think that’s true.”

“Well,” you bite out, “assuming has never gotten you anywhere worth being at, right?”

He rubs a hand over his mustache. He’s thinking, trying to find the right words.

“Right,” he finally agrees, tone softer now, more thoughtful. “Listen, I’ve never been good at the whole… talking thing. It’s been my downfall for as long as I can remember.”

Despite yourself, you give him a look that encourages him to keep going.

“And the shit between us? It’s weird. I’d like to move on, but I can’t. You’ve somehow managed to get into every fucking corner of my mind, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You suck in a sharp breath, your fingers gripping the wooden countertop. His words hit too close to home because they echo the feelings you’ve been wrestling with since you walked away from him.

Do you admit it? Do you tell him that he’s been haunting your thoughts just as much? Or do you keep it all locked up, close to your chest, where it’s safe and won’t blow up in your face later?

“What do you really want, Javier?” You don’t have time for games, and if he’s here to throw another curveball into your life, you’d rather snip it before it gets any worse.

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, then looks back at you with an expression you haven’t seen in a while—one that’s sincere. “I just want a moment to talk to you,” he says softly. “No bullshit this time. Just you and me.”

You wrestle with yourself, unsure if you want to give in. You’ve heard him talk like this before, but something feels different. He seems like he’s laying all his cards out, but you’ve been hurt enough to know better than to let your guard down too quickly.

Your eyes flick to the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until your shift ends. You chew on your lip, deliberating with yourself, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to make a decision.

Finally, after a beat, you let out a long breath and nod. “I’m off in twenty minutes,” you say, voice steady. “We can talk at my place, but this is the last time we have this conversation, Javier. No more of this back and forth.”

His face lights up, unmistakably relieved, and for a second, you see that glimmer of hope in his eyes. He sits a little taller, less tense, and his smile is soft but genuine. “Thank you,” he says, almost under his breath, like he wasn’t sure you’d agree. “I parked a few blocks down. I can come get you—”

You cut him off, pointing upward. “I live upstairs.”

Javier blinks, then chuckles, the tension between you easing slightly with that simple realization. “Oh,” he says, a little sheepish. “Okay.” For some reason, that small exchange makes both of you laugh—genuine, real laughter, the kind you haven’t shared in a while. It’s a brief moment of lightness before the weight of everything settles back in.

But before either of you can say more, you’re pulled back to the present as the place picks up with a small rush. The door swings open, and a few regulars take their usual spots, dragging you back into your role behind the bar. Javier moves out of the way, leaning back against his stool, watching you as you work.

It doesn’t take long for Connie to return, looking slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed from whatever she and Steve were up to in the back. You raise an eyebrow, giving her a teasing smirk as she approaches. “Thirty minutes, huh? You sure you didn’t need forty?” You quip, poking fun at her the same way she did to you on Halloween night.

She narrows her eyes at you, but there’s a playful glint in them. “Shut up,” she mutters, straightening her apron. “You know I could’ve dragged it out longer if I wanted.”

You shake your head, chuckling as you hand over the bar to the guy coming in to replace you. Your shift is finally over, and you can feel the tension easing from your shoulders. With one last glance at the clock, you turn toward Javier, who’s still waiting, watching you with that familiar intensity.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice more casual than you feel.

He nods, pushing off the counter to follow you out. Thankfully, Steve had left, but as you pass Connie, you don’t miss the way her eyes widen when she sees the sexy guy trailing behind you. She gives you a look—half amused, half impressed—and you can practically hear her thoughts.

You give her a small wave, shrugging off her knowing smirk as you push through the door, stepping out into the cool evening air.

He follows behind you silently as you climb the narrow staircase to your apartment, the low hum of the bar fading with each step. You can feel his presence like a warm current, that quiet intensity that always seems to wrap around you when he’s near. The proximity makes you hyper-aware of every sound—the creak of the steps beneath your feet, the soft rustle of his jacket as he moves, his shaky breaths from his lungs working overtime due to his constant smoking.

When you finally reach the top and push the door open, you step aside to let him in. He takes a slow look around, his eyes sweeping over the small but cozy space. Despite its shabby appearance—the chipped paint on the walls, the secondhand furniture—it’s undeniably yours.

The throw blankets on the couch, the mismatched mugs on the kitchen counter, the books scattered about. It’s lived-in and comfortable, and you catch the way Javier’s lips twitch in what might be a smile as he takes it all in.

“Okay,” you say, arms crossing as you stand by the kitchenette, keeping a reasonable distance between you. “What now? We’re here. It’s just me and you. What do you have to say to me?”

He hesitates for a moment, running a hand through his hair like he’s bracing himself. Then, he just… spills his guts. “I want you to give me one chance. Just one date,” he says, the words tumbling out faster than you expect. “I know I’ve screwed up before, and I know I’ve been cocky, but… I like you. Like, really like you. More than I’ve let on.”

You blink quickly. You weren’t expecting this—certainly not Javier Peña, of all people, to stand in your apartment and confess to having a legitimate crush on you. “No way,” you mutter, in time with your thoughts, a nervous giggle escaping before you can stop it.

It sounds ridiculous in your head, and even more absurd out loud. He likes you? He doesn’t even know you!

His frown deepens, his jaw tightening as if your reaction stings. “I’m serious,” he’s insistent, his dark eyes locking with yours.

You shake your head, still struggling to process this. “You just got tired of screwing around with all the pretty stars, so now you’re going after someone different. Trying a new flavor of the month by chasing after a girl on the crew.”

“Technically, you’re not on the crew anymore—” he starts, but cuts himself off when he sees the daggers you’re sending him.

He steps a little closer, his tone quieter but more earnest. “You told me earlier that assuming has never gotten me anywhere worth being at. So take your own advice, nena, and stop assuming I’m chasing after you for all the wrong reasons.”

There’s no trace of his usual bravado, no cocky grin or smooth line to disarm you. Just sincerity. And it’s that, more than anything, that makes you pause. For real this time.

“So I’m not just someone to scratch off your list?” You ask, daring him to lie.  

“Wha— no.”

“You really mean it?”  

“Do I need to get on my knees to convince you I’m serious?”  

“That’d be the least serious thing you could do.”  

His mouth twitches up into a half smirk. “So? Will you let me take you out?”

This feels like if you so much as blink, the moment will dissolve—nothing but smoke and mirrors. 

“Okay,” you breathe. “But if it doesn’t work out… then that’s it. You don’t come around here again. You leave me alone. For good.”  

His eyes narrow, but he nods, accepting the ultimatum.  

“Fair enough.” His voice dips into something dark and velvety, a timbre that’s all too familiar. It’s the same voice you’ve heard behind the camera, in the tape that you got yourself off to—low, coaxing, a caress in itself. And damn him, it’s working on you again. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”  

“When?” You ask him.

“You’re the one who works weekends. You tell me.”

“Next Saturday?” You offer, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a date.”  

A flutter of nerves skitters through your chest and you almost laugh again, so giddy, but you clamp down on it.

“Alright... I’ll walk you out.” Your voice sounds awkward to your own ears, but your feet stay rooted to the spot. So does he.  

His gaze sharpens. “You know,” he starts, rubbing his jaw in that infuriatingly familiar way, “Robbie kept saying you ‘broke’ me after that Malibu shoot with Mariella.” He air quotes broke and your expression turns confused.

“Well… he’s an idiot.”  

“He’s not wrong, though,” Javi murmurs, stepping closer, the space between you vanishing.  

Your breath hitches. “Javi…” you warn, but it sounds weak—like a plea dressed as a protest.  

“You were right.” His voice dips again, softer now, but no less dangerous. “Sleeping with barely-legal girls felt... wrong. The whole scene was just fucked. It took me too long to realize it.” He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “But that’s not what broke me.”  

Your pulse stutters. “Then what?”  

“You,” he whispers, moving closer, until the heat of his body presses against yours. “Your voice. Your eyes.” His gaze dips to your mouth, and your knees threaten to give out. “Those soft lips you won’t let me kiss absolutely fucking broke me.”

Your lower back presses hard against the counter, pinned by the sheer gravity of him closing in. His scent is dizzying.  

Your nipples harden, tightening with each shallow breath you take, the heat between you wrapping around your body like a fever. Now that you’ve stopped fighting it, the tide of lust pulls you under, dragging you into the undertow.

He can’t just say these things to you and expect you to remain sane. Especially not after all your wet dreams he’s been the star of.

“The others don’t do it for me anymore and I’m not popping a pill to get fuckin’ hard.” He cages you in, planting both hands on the counter at your sides. His arms flex, his body crowding yours, then he leans in, his nose brushing the tip of yours in the kind of touch that feels both too soft and too intimate.

“Just standing here with you…” His hips roll forward, pressing against you. The solid ridge of his cock rubs against your stomach through his jeans, and the friction sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

You gasp, lips parting as you go weak.

“Oh…” you breathe, shakily, your voice barely more than a whimper. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but his gaze locks onto the movement.

“I want to take care of you, nena. Por favor.” His voice drips with need, every word laced with intent. “Let me make you feel good again. I need to make you feel good.”

Memories flash like lightning—the way his mouth felt between your thighs and how it left such an impression that you quit your fucking job (okay maybe not because of that necessarily but it was a butterfly effect)

“Javi…” Your voice is a strained warning, as you press your hand to his shoulder, ready to push him back if you needed to throw some metaphorical ice on this heated moment to chill both of you the fuck out. “I’m not going to fuck you right now.”

“I’m not asking you to…” His hand comes up to take yours at his shoulder into his, bringing it up to his lips to give it a gentle kiss.

God, you just about come right then and there.

“You want to go down on me again?”

He groans, his mouth grazing your knuckles as if tasting you again. “I’ll always want that. Always.” His voice is strained. “But tonight, pretty girl, I just—fuck—I need to feel you.”

“But you just said—”

“I know baby,” he cradles your face and you let him, horny out of your mind and absolutely under his spell. “Just let me put the tip in.”

“What?” You ask, moving back from him to stare up into his eyes.

“The head of my cock. Let me put it in and feel how wet and warm you are.” 

Your thighs clench instinctively, the ache between them growing unbearable. Images of his cock flood your mind—thick, veined, and heavy, flashing like a montage you can’t shake.

The thought of him, so close, pressing inside just enough to tease, makes your breath catch in your throat.

“I-I’ve never done that before... isn’t that—” You shake your head, struggling to wrap your mind around the idea.

“It’ll feel so good, I promise. If you don’t like it I’ll pull out and leave.”

His eyes still hold that sincerity from before, and it tugs at your heart, which has moved its pulse downstairs at the thought of feeling just a little bit of him.

It’s intoxicating, giving you the power to decide just how much of him you’ll take. How deep he’ll bury himself. How much you’ll let him fuck into you. 

A moan slips from your lips, unbidden, and his eyes darken, his jaw tightening at the sound. He’s holding back, but barely—waiting, craving, needing your consent like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality.

“Fuck,” you whisper, already lost. “Whatever, just do it. Do it before I change my mind.”

You squeal as he spins you around, your hands coming up to steady yourself against the counter.

You went out and bought a mini denim skirt after seeing it on the pornstar he fucked in the tow truck scene because you thought it was cute, and now you’re sort of living out that fantasy here with him as he pushes it up high on your hips, exposing your very lackluster underwear.

“Damn…” His hands are all over you, kneading your ass, the rough squeeze of his palms making you whine, back arching instinctively for more. “These are hot as fuck.”

Your cheeks heat up, because no way he thinks your mauve colored hipsters are hot.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. You step out of them, still in your sneakers, feeling utterly exposed. But the way he looks at you makes you feel desired.

With a firm hand, he presses against the small of your back, coaxing you into a deeper arch. His hands glide down your thighs, strong fingers gripping where your knee bends, lifting your leg and placing it on the counter. The shift spreads you open for him, your slick, swollen folds glistening in the dim light.

“Fuck...” His voice is pure gravel, rough with need, as he drinks in the sight of you. And then he drops to his knees, right behind you, and buries his face between your legs.

“Oh my—fuck!” you cry, jerking forward against the counter, totally unprepared for the onslaught of his tongue.

He doesn’t hold back—doesn’t ease you into it—just dives in like a man possessed, his mouth working you over with fervor. The obscene sounds of his tongue dragging through your wetness and the desperate groans vibrating from his throat make your head spin. You’re shaking, trying to catch your breath, but it’s useless with the way he devours you.

He licks every inch of your pussy, his tongue flat and broad one second, sharp and focused the next, flicking across your clit with precision. When he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, the wet suction sends sparks shooting through your body.

Your forehead thuds against the cabinet in front of you as you babble out his name in breathless, broken curses, pleasure building in tight, pulsing waves. Your legs tremble under his relentless attention, and it feels like he’s not just eating you out—he’s worshiping you, savoring every moment like a man starved.

“Javi—oh my—fuck!” You can barely string two words together, the intensity of it dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he buries his face deeper, groaning like he can’t get enough of you. And god dammit, you love it. You love the way he’s lost in you, the way his tongue moves like he knows exactly how to pull you apart. It’s filthy, messy, perfect.

He pulls back after a few minutes, reluctantly breaking away from the warmth of you, even though every fiber in his body begs him to stay—tongue, nose, and fingers lost in your sweetness for hours, watching you unravel again and again. He forces himself to move, savoring the way your breath stutters in frustration at the loss.  

The soft metallic clink of his belt buckle being undone makes your heart race, and your pussy clenches reflexively, aching to be filled.  

“Mmm, she’s ready for me, isn’t she?” He’s so smug, watching the way your cunt flutters at the mere thought of his cock sliding inside you. Even just the tip.  

You don’t answer—you can’t answer. The anticipation has stolen every word, every coherent thought from your brain. All you hear is the pounding rush of blood in your ears.

Javier steps in closer, the heat of his body pressing against your back. His hand snakes around you, rough fingers brushing your chin before hovering just beneath your lips.  

“Spit,” he commands, his tone low and firm.  

Like the desperate thing you are, you part your lips without hesitation, letting a hot thread of saliva drip into his waiting palm.  

A deep, approving grunt rumbles from his chest. “Good girl.”  

Your cheeks burn at the praise, and you clench again as he takes your offering, wrapping his wet palm around the thick length of his cock. He strokes himself slowly, hissing through his teeth, the slick sound of his fist dragging over his shaft making your breath hitch.  

Then, without warning, you feel the velvety head of his cock glide through the slick folds of your cunt.  

Both of you shudder—your soft whimper mingling with his guttural groan.  

He drags the swollen tip along your slit, gathering your arousal, and when he nudges it against your throbbing clit, your hips jerk instinctively.  

“Relax, bella,” he warns, his hand tightening on your waist to steady you. “Unless you want me to bust my load all over this pretty clit right now.”  

That filthy mouth of his makes you want to slap him—and kiss him—until you both can’t breathe.  

He keeps teasing you both, swirling the sensitive head over your clit again, tapping it lightly against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your thighs tremble with need, and your pussy clenches again, desperate to take him inside.  

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice gravelly with restraint as he lines himself up with your entrance. “So fucking wet…”  

He tilts his hips just enough to press the head of his cock against your dripping hole, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him.  

“¿Lista?” he whispers, his voice softer now, more intimate. He leans in, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck, trailing gentle kisses over your skin between ragged breaths.  

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to form words.  

Then, slowly—achingly slow—he pushes the tip inside.  

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

A sharp, breathless moan escapes you as he stretches you open, your cunt greedily sucking him in. The sensation is electric, overwhelming—just enough to tease, just enough to leave you craving more.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Why the fuck does this feel so good?

Javier groans, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he fights to keep from plunging deeper. “Puta madre nenita, this pussy esta tan rica.” 

He stills, savoring the way your tight heat wraps around just the tip of him. His blunt fingernails dig into the skin of your hips as he struggles to keep his hips from moving.

But you can’t help it. Your hips move on their own, rolling back just enough to take more of him inside, the smooth slide of his length sending sparks through your body. A whimper slips from your lips as your walls clench around what little of him you have, the stretch so good it has your eyes fluttering shut, your head tipping forward.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” he growls, low and dangerous, and the sound of it shoots straight to your cunt.

You whine softly, biting your lip, as he drags the inches you stole back out, leaving just the swollen head nestled at your entrance. The tease is unbearable, like dangling water in front of someone dying of thirst.

“Javi, I can’t help it,” you moan, the frustration bubbling over into a pout. Your hand drifts down between your thighs, fingers brushing your slick, needy clit. You need something—anything—to relieve the pressure.

His hand is lightning fast, grabbing your wrist and yanking it back to the counter. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He sounds almost offended.

“I need to feel something,” you whimper, shifting your hips desperately against him.

He clicks his tongue, as if scolding you, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re already feeling the head of this cock, aren’t you? And you’re still being greedy, trying to touch this pretty little pussy after I told you I’d take care of you.”

His hand slides from your waist, gliding lower, fingers hovering just above where you need him most. The promise of his touch makes your thighs quiver, and you let out a desperate little whine, arching your back in a silent plea.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice low and rough, thick with control barely held in check.

You know exactly what he looks like—jaw tight, eyes burning with hunger, teeth gritted as he holds back from sinking all the way into you. And it makes you ache even more.

“Touch me, Javi, please,” you beg, your voice a breathy, needy little mewl. You throw your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, batting your lashes shamelessly.

A low, satisfied hum vibrates from his chest, and his fingers finally press against your slick, swollen folds. He groans softly as he feels how you’re stretching around the head of his cock, his fingertips tracing the puffy lips before circling lazily over your throbbing clit.

“Ohhh, just like that,” you moan, the sound slipping from you naturally, raw and unfiltered—nothing like the exaggerated performances he’s used to. This is real, and it only makes him harder.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck, “I can’t wait to ruin this pussy, nenita. Gonna make you feel better than any malparido before me.”

His fingers keep working your clit, slow and steady, each stroke dragging you closer to madness. Your hips start to grind against his hand and the blunt head of his cock, desperate for more, for everything.

And the way he’s talking—like you’re his to wreck, his to please—makes you feel like you’ll lose your mind.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling the jealousy dancing on his fingertips as he works your clit faster, his movements switching between precision and wild hunger.

He rolls the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it just hard enough to make you gasp. Then, his touch softens—soothing circles, spreading your slick everywhere—before he tugs at your swollen nub, sending shocks of pleasure deep into your core, like fireworks are exploding down there.

“Tell me,” he growls, voice rough with possessiveness. “Did he fuck you good?”

The blunt tip of his cock stays snug at your entrance, and every pinch, every flick of his fingers makes your walls clench greedily around it, desperate for more.

“W-Who?” you whimper, genuinely lost in the haze of his touch. Your mind has melted, everything but the sensations he’s feeding you slipping away like vapor.

That answer pleases him—makes something wicked curl in his chest. His grin presses against your neck, and the wet heat of his tongue drags a slow, deliberate stripe along your skin. Then, he bites down, sucking hard, marking you in that one spot you’ve only ever dreamt of him nipping at.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, voice dripping with satisfaction.

Your hand finds his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your neck. The heat swirling in your belly tightens to a near-breaking point, your orgasm creeping up on you with every flick of his relentless fingers.

“Javi—fuck—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, voice breaking, sounding needy and pitiful.

“I know, baby,” he rasps. “I can feel her gettin’ all tight and messy for me. C’mon, nena, let it happen. I’ve got you.”

He keeps his pace steady—no sudden changes, no wild moves—just the same focused rhythm he’s built up, making your nerves sing, each flick and stroke a perfectly calibrated promise of release.

Your body responds like it always does for him: beautifully. His name falls from your lips like a sweet song. Your hips grind instinctively, chasing the steady friction of his slick fingers.

“More, Javi—oh, please—more,” you gasp, knowing exactly what you need, what only he can give you. You’re ready for him to shove deep inside, to fill you, stretch you, ruin you with the thick cock still teasing your entrance.

If you had said this maybe five minutes ago, he would have obliged, but he’s got a point to prove now. And that point is restraint—his self control.

“Not tonight, pretty girl,” he murmurs darkly, laden with lust and dominance. “You’re gonna come just like this.”

Then, without warning, his hand shifts, and he slaps your pussy—once, twice, three times. The sound is wet and obscene, and the sharp sting sends a shockwave straight to your core.

That’s what breaks you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a violent, unstoppable wave, ripping through your body with terrifying force.

“Fuck—Javi!” you scream, your walls fluttering and pulsing wildly around the head of his cock, soaking his hand in your release as your legs threaten to give out beneath you.

He groans, watching you unravel for him, every twitch and spasm feeding his ego. His fingers don’t stop—stroking you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body.

Your vision swims, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the euphoria leaves you floating, weightless. And even though he hasn’t buried himself inside you like you wanted, somehow, this feels even more intimate—like he’s branded himself into you without needing to fuck you at all.

The way your pussy grips him sends a shudder down his spine, and with a strangled curse, his balls tighten, his climax hot on the heels of yours. 

“Fuck—” he groans, yanking his cock out just in time, the thick spurts of his cum painting your slick, swollen pussy, making a filthy mess.

Both of you pant, trying to catch your breath, the room heavy with the scent of sex. A sharp hiss escapes your lips as his fingers slide lazily through your soaked folds, mixing the remnants of both your pleasure. When he gathers the sticky blend on his fingers and brings them to your mouth, the hunger in his gaze makes your heart race.  

“Have a taste, baby.”

Without hesitation, you part your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them with obscene enthusiasm. You moan at the heady, salty taste—like liquid sin on your tongue. It’s addictive, and you suck greedily until his fingers are spotless, releasing them with a wet pop that makes his eyes darken further.  

You glance up at him over your shoulder, lips slightly swollen from your efforts. 

“You okay?” he asks, his tone soft.

You nod, still dazed, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “Better than okay. That was... wow.”  

His soft grin blooms into a cocky smirk, and he helps clean you up before gently moving your leg off the counter. As he tucks himself back into his jeans, you adjust your skirt, smoothing it down with shaky hands.  

“Where are my panties?” you ask, glancing around, still floating in the afterglow.  

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling them out with a sly grin. “Oh, these?”  

You reach for them, but he swiftly lifts them out of reach.  

“I think I’ll hold onto them.”  

Heat rises to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes at him, but the lazy, satisfied smile on your lips betrays your mock indignation. “Why? Perv.”  

His grin widens, unabashed. “A little memento… to remind me of this. I’ll give them back next Saturday.” He slips them back into his pocket.

You roll your eyes, too blissed out to care. “I can’t believe we just did that.”  

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, the warmth of his embrace catching you off guard. After all the resistance you’ve given him, letting him hold you like this feels foreign.

“Told you it’d feel good,” he murmurs smugly, his lips brushing your temple. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to cave first and beg for the whole thing, though.”  

You scoff, giving his hip a playful pinch. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment, okay? You might’ve scored a date and... a semi-fuck, but I’m still sticking to those boundaries. For now.”  

“Does that mean I still can’t kiss you?”  

Oh, hell. He’s already been inside you—well, kind of. What’s one little kiss? But no. You’re trying to make a point here.  

“Nope,” you reply, stopping him with a finger pressed lightly against his lips just as he leans in. “Not until you buy me dinner first.”  

His smirk deepens, and instead of protesting, he kisses the tip of your finger. 

“Deal.”

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories

@greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl .

🏷️ : @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch

@xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @yxtkiwiyxt . @guelyury . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @thundermartini . @correapunk .

[darnell-la]

hi, omfg you’re writing is AMAZING, i’m loving all your logan fics, you’re really talented, the depraved side of me wouldn’t rest if i didn’t ask - can we please get more of a “forced creampie” breeding kink?

𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗘'𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥

note: Logan is very dark and pervy in this story. passiveness always gets the best of him when it comes to y/n and other boys he knows aren’t good for her.

———

“I don’t understand you, kid,” Logan spoke as soon as y/n slipped her shoes off. The young girl jumped at his presence, thinking he would be knocked out like he usually is at this hour.

“Logan,” y/n said low, eyes widened and heart pumping. She told Wade she wouldn’t sneak out tonight, but she did. She thought it would be easy since he was sleeping over Vanessa’s house tonight, but apparently, it wasn’t.

“Been waitin’ here for hours. You promised you’d stay in, and look at you. Dressed like that and pissy drunk,” the man said as he pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on.

“You’re unbelievable, y/n,” the man seemed more upset than she thought he would be if he were to catch her. “I-I’m sorry — I was just out with a few friends, that’s all. Nothing bad happened tonight,” she assured the man, but he didn’t care.

“Nothin’ bad, huh? Then why do I smell him on you?” Logan asked, confusing y/n. Who was him? “Excuse me?” She asked, trying to be as polite as she could, but that all went over Logan’s head.

“Whoever you were all on tonight. I can smell him. Did he fuck you? Kiss you? Touch you?” Logan continued to ask as he got closer to Y/n’s frozen figure. She had almost forgotten about his enhanced smell.

“H-He’s just a friend, and we didn’t have sex. We only made out. M-Maybe he, uh, he touched me, but that’s all,” y/n knew she didn’t have to tell Logan or Wade anything about her life, but she was living here for free.

“And that’s why you’re all worked up now, huh? Couldn’t get you to finish?” The man asked now inches in front of her. The way his dark eyes looked down at her soft ones, send shifters d through her body.

“I-I really don’t want to talk to you about this, Logan. It’s inappropriate,” Y/n said as she moved to walk past him, but he moved in her way to stop her.

“You think you can sneak out without consequences, princess?” The tall man asked as his hands softly gripped her waist. “You think it’s fine to be all on another man, then come back to a man’s house? You think that’s respectful?”

“L-Logan, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to have a little bit of fun tonight,” y/n said as her hands touched both of his wrists, trying to pull him away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Could’ve just asked me for some fun, Bub, and you know that,” the man had tightened his grip on the girl, telling her to stop her attempt to push him away, because it wasn’t happening. Especially after what she's done.

“Logan, I think I should go to bed,” y/n, the one whose mind shouldn’t be functioning right because of how much liquor she had, said.

Logan’s behavior was something she never expected. He didn’t either, but thinking about how another boy touched her, made him realize he needed to act fast.

He wanted to start off slow, maybe take her on dates and buy her gifts, but tonight was unexpected. He wasn’t going to let it go.

The strong man picked y/n off of her feet and made his way to the nearest couch. “What are you going?” Y/n asked, confused about how Logan was reacting to her sneaking out.

“Gonna make this quick and easy so you’ll understand,” Logan’s voice sounded deep to y/n as he roamed her body. She didn’t get what was happening at first until he lifted her tight dress over her ass.

“Hey!” Y/n tried to speak out, but her voice sounded low and whiny. The alcohol hadn’t kicked hard until now. Now she felt like she couldn’t speak or move.

“Can’t get all whiny when you caused this, Bub. Ain’t a good look on ya,” Logan told her as the room filled with the sound of his belt coming off and his jeans unzipping.

“L-Logan, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, upset that she was acting this way. She could scream at him, or fight to get from under him, but she chose not to. She chose to be good, and let the man do what he needed to do.

“I think you know, princess,” the man’s voice rang throughout her head as he pulled himself out, cock dropping at how heavy and painfully hard he was. He always is around her, but tonight was different. Tonight, he needed to feed it.

“C’mon, Bub, stop the whining. Seriously. Gonna get me all riled up. I’d like to last at least a few minutes,” Logan complained as he pulled y/n’s soaked panties to the side.

“Now that’s a fucking pretty site. Fuck, kid,” Logan wiped two fingers in between her folds to get a feel of the juice she had been hiding from him for so long.

“Hey you’re sweet,” the man said, and before you/n could say anything, she heard the noises of him sucking on his own fingers with a groan. “Fuckin’ is,” he confirmed before grabbing a hand full of his cock.

“L-Lo,” y/n didn’t know what to say but felt uncomfortable not saying anything. She’s basically inviting the man to use her. She didn’t know what came over her tonight, but the alcohol helped her understand how much her body wanted and needed this.

“Ssh, Bub — Gonna fill you up, then we can go to bed, mkay? I won’t even tell Wade about your silly acts,” Logan said before he pushed at her entrance, causing her hole to instantly tighten.

“C’mon, y/n — Don’t give me a hard time,” the man said as he continued pushing until he got past and through her folds. A shaky moan fell from y/n’s lips as she felt her lower stomach ache.

“So goddamn right,” Logan grunted as he pushed further to get himself all the way in her. “T-Too much — Too much!” Y/n cried out, but he kept pushing until he was fully inside of her.

Y/n could barely breathe, scared that she would hurt herself, but the way he pulled back just to slam back in, forced the breath out of her body.

“Fuck,” Logan’s hands gripped the side of her ass as he used that to move her into his rhythm. The sight of her juice coating his cock every time he slipped back into her, made his cock twitch. She was driving him crazy and had barely done anything.

“You’ve gotta stay away from those boys, baby. I don’t like you around them,” Logan spoke to the young lady like he was her father. “Don’t want me to go crazy, right? You wanna keep me calm, right?”

Logan forced Y/n’s legs a bit wider so he could push her further. Y/n reacted by lifting her upper body to endure the slight pain, but he forced her face back down onto the long part of the couch that stood up.

“Stop the fighting, Bub, this has to be done. It has too. I can’t have you out there anymore. Even Wade is worried for you. We need you safe,” Logan's pace sped up, making y/n choke on her moans.

“Too much,” y/n cried as her walls clenched around him. “Oh, but it’s not, baby. It’s just enough, and you’re gonna take more of me. So much more. You’re gonna be full,”

Those words triggered y/n’s head, slightly scaring her at the fact he could cum in her. He didn’t put a condom on. She’s just now realizing he never planned to in the first place.

“L-Logan, no — Pull out,” y/n begged the man as she tried pushing her body up and moving away from him, but he was too strong. The man pushed her face further into the couch as his other hand stayed on her ass, tightening his grip.

“P-Please, Logan,” y/n cried, hoping he’d listen, but that small part of her liked how dark he could get. He was constantly angry, and sometimes, she liked when he’d lash out at her. This was a different kind of lash-out, but that small present in her made her closer to her own orgasm.

“Nah uh — You’re gonna take it,” Logan threatened through his teeth as he pounded her. “Can’t go out half naked and come back to me, thinkin’ I’d let it slide. I’ll show you how I let things slide, kid,”

Logan lifted his right leg and planted his foot right neck to her knee that was on the seat of the couch. “Gonna show you exactly how I treat little brat like you,” a hand came down onto y/n’s ass before he began slamming down into her.

Y/n cried out, moaning loud and cranky as she finally released around him. Holding herself back was impossible in this new position and the new pace he had going on for her.

“Mhm hm — That’s it — Just like that,” Logan growled through his teeth as he spread one of her ass cheeks to get a better view of his cock violating her cunt. The juice splashing everywhere could make him go insane, but he wanted to take it easy on her tonight.

“Gonna keep sneaking out? Gonna keep kissin’ on your friends and being a whore!?” Logan slightly tugged on her hair as he leaned down to breathe heavily into her ear. “Are you!?” The shouted.

“No! No!” She cried, making him chuckle as he leaned back. “That's what I thought,” the man felt cocky, knowing she stood no chance when it came to pissing him off. Wade would’ve definitely let this slide. That’s why Logan’s here though — To put her in her place.

“Gonna cum, baby,” the man spoke, making the going lady sob, but she had no idea why. Maybe the feeling of being dominated made her feel pathetic, but deep down she liked the claim.

“Oh, yeah,” Logan growled, thrust stuttering as he spread her ass cheeks even further so he could get all of him in. “Ah huh- Fuck!” Logan groaned one last time before he began spilling inside of the weak girl.

Y/n whined at the feeling of his seed coating and filling her walls. He leaks beyond more than a regular human, and she realized that as plenty leaked out of her cunt and down her legs.

“That’s my good girl,” Logan kept his hands on her head, pushing her down as the other rubbed her ass, slapping slightly to see a little jiggle.

“Gonna keep this good girl filled so she won’t have to touch on little boys anymore,”

[luveline]

hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!

thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage. 

You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again. 

It’s not fun. 

You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it. 

Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner. 

The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird

A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you? 

You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes 

You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you 

You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush. 

I miss you too, you text back. 

Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later

Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home. 

You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy. 

“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?” 

“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.” 

“Okay, see you in a second,” he says. 

He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all. 

He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window. 

“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.” 

You lean down further. “I’m okay.” 

He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms. 

“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.

“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.” 

You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.

“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly. 

“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask. 

“I don’t want mystery with you.” 

Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes. 

“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks. 

You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand. 

“Or Chinese? What do you want?” 

You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?” 

Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.

Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines. 

[makethemhoesmad]

love you till my lungs give out

paige bueckers x reader

word count- 2k(lord)

notes: this fic was such a great write for me, as it focuses around eating disorders, which is something i’ve personally struggled with. i know this is a sensitive topic, so please, if this makes you uncomfortable, scroll away, or read at your own risk.

thanks to: literally the biggest thanks ever to @melpthatsme for dming me your idea and helping me work through it, i really could not have done this without you, so everyone thank them

also thanks to @imaginespazzi and @bueckersstrap for reacting to my random messages about this

—

the first time it happened, i barely realized i did it.

“paigey, my head hurts so bad right now. like, im gonna die right here,” i groan, hiding my face in the fabric of her hoodie, trying to lock out any stray amounts of light coming from the covered windows. she runs her hand through my hair, and starts to ever-so-gently massage my temples. i sigh in quiet relief, and then she tries to pull me up to lay on top of her.

“uh uh, paige, no,” i say. i try to shake my head at her, but a bolt of pain flies through me, forcing my head back down.

“jus’ tryna help you get comfy, ma,” she whispers, bundling me up in a blanket and pulling me back into her side. she moves her warm hands up and under my t-shirt, but i squirm about, complaining that they’re too cold, even though i’ve never felt anything more soft and warm, so she moves them back over my shirt. but i don’t notice it, not really. and neither does she.

the second time, i know what i did.

“so, what should we order to eat?” paige asks, scrolling on her phone for different options. 

“mm, what if i cooked here, for something different! i can make you a grilled cheese,” i joke, nudging her arm with my shoulder. “that’s all i know how to cook anyway.”

she giggles, standing up with me and following me to the kitchen. she hoists herself onto the counter, and watches me intently as i pull out the things for a sandwich. i grin at her, moving to step in between her legs and take her face in my hands. 

“you’re so cute,” i say, pressing a kiss to her nose. she hops off of the counter and follows me to the stove. paige is just too sweet to me sometimes. i’m cooking dinner for her, the least i can do, really, and she’s cozied up behind me, arms around my waist her hands are barely touching, she can barely fit them around me and her chin is resting softly on my shoulder. she’s pressing light pecks to whatever area she can reach, and i feel at peace, in the kitchen, for a few moments. then it stops.

“why aren’t you making one for yourself baby?” she asks, spinning me around to lean me against the countertop, forgetting her sandwich beside her.

“i’m feeling, um, nauseous,” i stutter, stumbling over the excuse. she lets me go, though she looks skeptical.

“cmon, just have a bite of mine then. baby, you really need to eat more, that’s probably why you haven’t been feeling very well lately.”

i allow her to feed me a small bite, then quickly use my fingers to silently add that to whatever else i ate today. i read somewhere that to lose weight, you need to burn more calories that you eat. tomorrow, i need to burn around 800. Well, 804 now. 

the third time, i think paige noticed something was up.

“ma, this is literally the fourth time you’ve said that you’re cold. just take my fucking hoodie, i’m actually begging you,” she pleads, taking it off and offering it up to me. i shake my head, again, and press myself further into her chest, rubbing my arms to try and make the goosebumps disappear. she pulls me into her, then moves her mouth to my ear.

“is everything okay baby? do you wanna go home?” she whispers, nuzzling my neck with her nose. i shrug, not wanting to make her leave if she wasn’t done chatting with people yet. she makes the decision for me, standing up and tugging me with her. her hand finds its way to the small of my back, and she guides me towards the door. i sway slightly as we stand, blood rushing to my head. i take it as my lack of protein, or anything really, catching up to me. she stops walking, lurching to grab me by both shoulders and bend to eye level with me.

“darling, i want you to be honest with me. what have you eaten today?” i shake my head, feeling my cheeks going red at the thought of her confronting me. i look down, trying to avoid eye contact with her as my eyes fill with tears. she wraps me up into a hug, planting a kiss to the top of my head. she pulls me to the car and helps me in, then climbs into her own door, but makes no move to turn the car on. instead she pulls out her phone and asks me “so, where do you wanna stop and pick up food on our way home?” 

“paige, i’m really not that hungry, just tired and need to be with you in bed for the night. can we please just go home?” 

she nods, but looks at me skeptically out of the corner of her eye. she must know that all i’ve eaten today is half an energy drink and a piece of gum. i’ll eat something with her tomorrow, i guess. we can go out to lunch together and then when she goes to the gym ill go on a run. then she’ll see that im okay.

the fourth time, or probably the fifth or sixth, really, i don’t notice it, so i don’t think she does either.

“cmere pretty,” paige mumbles, reaching her arms out to me from where she’s laying on the bed. i slowly move to lay next to her, but roll away when she tries to take my sweater off.

“hey, baby, what?” she whines, apparently frustrated by the lack of contact.

“i wanna leave it on, paigey,” i tell her, moving my hand into the waistband of her shorts.

“but i wanna see you, please baby,” i don’t like saying no to her, but this is one thing i very rarely back down on.

“uh uh, sorry. lemme taste you, though,” i respond, moving to tug her shorts down.

“nah, come and sit on my face, cutie.” she smirks at her own words, but i’m not laughing. i scramble off the bed, standing up to black spots in my vision. i stand still, squeezing my eyes shut to get rid of the feeling. i stay there for im not sure how long, when i feel strong arms loop around my shoulders and help me onto the bed. paige helps me lay down, placing my head in her lap, then starts to comb through my hair with her fingers. she doesn’t say anything, and i’m grateful for that. obviously, she just thinks im tired. she knows im okay.

this time, im sure she noticed. it would be hard not to.

i’ve just come home from a run to the gym, dripping in sweat. it’s part of my new routine. i jog a mile and a half to the gym, i walk on a stairmaster or inclined treadmill there, then run home. normally i leave when paige leaves for practice, and come home just as she’s getting home, if not a little before so i can shower before she gets here. today, i must’ve done a little too much, because by the time i walk in the door, my head is spinning. i walk into the kitchen, sitting down at the island and resting my head in my hands, trying to clear my vision. i don’t hear when the door opens.

“baby, are you okay?” i hear. i sit up quickly, startled, then put my head back down immediately, because my vision goes nearly dark again.

“mhm, just tired you know? just got back from a run.” 

“you’ve got to take a rest day sometimes, darling,” she coos, taking my face into her hands and pressing a kiss to my nose. i nod, knowing i won’t do it.

sometimes i don’t realize it, but she knows exactly what to do.

i’ve just finished cooking dinner, just some simple spaghetti and a salad. i place her bowl of noodles in front of her, then settle down with my salad. when i stand up to get a glass of water, then come back, i can’t help but notice she’s switched our bowls.

“paigey, could i, possibly, maybe, have my bowl back?” i ask, trying to seem lighthearted.

“oh, yeah, sure,” she answers, sliding it back towards me. but when i try to slide hers back, she stops me. 

“nah, you eat that too. seems like you forgot to serve yourself noodles, so ill go make myself a new bowl.” she stands up, but i scramble in front of the stove quicker, blocking her way. 

“why would you do that, when i made you a whole bowl? eat it,” i tell her, pointing back to the countertop. she lunges at me, lifting me easily and placing me on the countertop. why would she pick me up? she definitely thought i was too heavy. i bet she leaves after this. she drags her my bowl over, twirls a few noodles onto the fork, and begins to prod my mouth with it. 

“cmon honey, just a bite. it’s not like it’s poison, you literally just cooked it,” she presses. i start to shake my head, so she moves the fork and instead swoops in for a kiss. i return her advances eagerly. hoping it distracts her. she moves her head down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, and my mouth falls open. i don’t realize she’s noticed that until she’s setting the forkful of food between my lips and lightly closing them.

“it’s one bite, ma. let’s get it eaten, then you can be done.” i chew, not really having the choice to run and spit it out. once i swallow, she beams at me.

“such a good girl, baby. i’m so proud of you.”

at some point, she wins

“come here now, baby,” paige demands, grasping me by the waist and yanking me in front of her. i’d been about to climb into the shower when she spotted me through the bathroom mirror, stripped down to nothing. she’d grabbed me, pulled me into my room, and positioned us in front of the full-length mirror to the side.

“you see how perfect you are? how pretty?” she mumbles into my ear. i let my eyes flutter shut as she snakes her hand down my body, stopping to circle her finger over my clit. a groan slips out from my lips, and she stops.

“alright, i want you to keep on looking right in the mirror, ma. want you to see how perfectly you take my fingers.” i writhe against her, trying to keep my eyes open and hold myself up at the same time. she plunges three fingers into me. i cry out, locking eyes with her in the mirror, she smirks, the same way she always does when drawing a climax from me. i go boneless. if she hadn’t been holding me so tightly, i would be on the floor.

“now can you see how amazing you are? you don’t gotta change anything about you, i’ll love you no matter what. you should stop listening to what others say, because people that love you, like me, want you, no matter what you look like. i, personally, think you’re perfect. i’ll love you till the day my lungs give out, and even then, i’ll use my last breath to say it again.”

after that, it happens less often. some days, i still forget to eat, and some days even looking at a scale makes me want to throw up. but paige is always there. she’s always there to hold me, or help me eat just a little bit, or to help me lay down and relax after i’ve panicked so hard ive puked into the toilet. one day, looking at her from across the couch, i realize that when she told me she’d love me no matter what, she was telling the truth.

[mrsshabana]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, vaginal sex, creampie, breeding kink, pregnancy, age difference, angst, fluff, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 5k words. This is the last chapter for this fic, but I still have lots of things that I want to write for this au so be on the lookout for oneshots in the future. Thank you for all of your support for this series ♡ ✧:･ﾟ→ Part one ✧:･ﾟ→ Part two

“Fuck fuck fuck! What do I do? Her mom is gonna kill me if she figures out I’m dating her daughter! And then Y/N is gonna kill me for telling her mom!” Gyutaro thinks to himself as he begins to panic.

“Ahem,” your mother clears her throat and repeats her question, “Who the hell are you, sir?”

“Er um… Gyutaro?” he says as if he’s not sure what his own name is. 

“Gyutaro?!” her eyes widen.

“Shit… does she already know who I am? I thought Y/N didn’t tell her…” he thinks again. 

“Y/N! Come here!” she yells inside the house, then she turns back to Gyutaro and opens the door, “Come in, Gyutaro.”

“Um… th-thanks,” he stutters as he nervously steps inside, not sure whether your mother is angry with him or not. 

“Yeah, mom? What’s wro-” you stop mid-sentence as you come into the dining room and see your boyfriend standing there. 

“Y/N,” your mom says sternly, “This man just told me that his name is Gyutaro.”

You blush, “Um yeah… this is Gyutaro.”

“You failed to tell me that your boyfriend was a grown ass man,” she scowls and walks into the kitchen.

“Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! I was scared of how you’d react,” you plea as you follow her into the kitchen.

Gyutaro just stands awkwardly in your dining room, wishing that he could shrink and hide somewhere. His palms begin to sweat as he thinks about the consequences of his actions. Is your mother going to make you break up with him? 

The thought makes his heart ache. Is he going to lose his sister and his girlfriend on the same day? 

Your mom comes back into the dining room holding a teapot and some cups, “Gyutaro, come sit and make yourself comfortable,” she says as she pours a cup of tea for him. 

“Y-Yes ma’am,” he mutters and sits at the table.

You aren’t sure what to do or say to make things better, but you sit beside Gyutaro and give him a reassuring look in an attempt to comfort him. In response, he looks at you with a guilty look in his eyes as if he’s apologizing. 

“Gyutaro,” your mom says calmly as she sits across from him at the table, “I have three questions for you.”

“Y-yes?” he gulps.

“Do you have a job?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Do you have a criminal record?”

“No ma’am.”

“Do you pay your taxes?” 

“Of course!” he answers enthusiastically.

“Alright. Now Y/N, I have three questions for you,” she diverts her attention to you now, “Does Gyutaro make you happy?”

“Y-Yes! He makes me very happy…” you blush. 

“Does he behave like a gentleman?”

“Yes, always,” your cheeks redden.

“Do you love him?”

“I-I do,” you mutter, feeling shy about admitting this in front of your mom. 

“Alright, then I approve of him. Even though he’s a bit older than you, he seems like a decent man,” she states as she looks over at Gyutaro’s flustered face, “Welcome to the family, Gyutaro.”

“Th-Thank you Miss L/N!” he lets out a sigh of relief, finally feeling in the clear that your mom approves of your relationship. 

“See mom! I told you he was a good boyfriend!” You jump up and give him a big hug, genuinely feeling so happy that your mom accepts your relationship. It was something you were really worried about, especially since your mom has always been very protective of you. Honestly, you're quite surprised she’s so cool about the age difference between you and your boyfriend. 

“I honestly thought you’d be mad,” you laugh nervously, hoping you aren’t jinxing it. 

She sighs and sips her tea, “You know dear, your father was the same age as me. And he left me when I was pregnant with you. He was young and immature. Age means nothing,” she shakes her head, “I rather you date an older man that pays his taxes and takes care of you than a man your age that only cares about himself.”

Gyutaro smiles, finally feeling like someone accepts him and doesn’t judge him. He sees where you get it from now. 

“And that’s why your father is in prison for tax evasion…” she mumbles under her breath, only Gyutaro hears what she says. 

“Aw mom… I promise you Gyutaro is nothing like dad,” you say, looking a bit somber as you take a sip of your tea. 

“I can already tell,” she smiles, “Well, you two can go have your fun. Just be home by ten.”

“Are we going on a date, Gyu?”

“Oh uh no… actually I came over for something else,” he swallows dryly, “Um… I told Ume about us.”

Immediately from the look on his face you can tell things didn’t go well. “Oh… Did she take it really hard?”

“Yeah,” he nods, choking up a bit, “She called me disgusting… then she slapped me and left,” he touches his cheek, still red from her hand. 

“She what?!” you gasp, totally shocked that Ume would get physical with her brother. You aren’t sure what words to say, it seems like nothing would be able to fix this. The one person who has been with him his entire life, the person he dedicates all of his hard work to doesn’t accept his relationship. It’s a really hard pill to swallow, and he’s still struggling to even think about it. 

The surprise meeting with your mother distracted him momentarily, but all of those raw feelings from his argument with Ume are flowing back now and he feels his eyes begin to well up with tears. 

“Ume is his sister, right?” Your mother whispers to you.

“Yeah,” you nod. 

“I see,” she puts her hand on Gyutaro’s shoulder, feeling lots of sympathy for him, “Gyutaro listen, your sister didn’t mean it and I think you know that. The two people that she’s closest to started dating and she’s probably feeling left out. Like you two will get closer without her and leave her. She’s just scared and said whatever she could to try to hurt your relationship. Just give her time, I promise she’ll come around.”

Your mom smiles softly, offering Gyutaro that motherly care he grew up without.

“Th-thanks,” he sniffles, trying to hold back his tears, “I know you’re right. It just hurt when she said those things, but I know she still loves me… and I still love her too. I just hope she comes home soon…”

“Maybe try calling her tomorrow if she doesn’t come home by then,” you suggest as you rub his back.

Gyutaro nods, feeling better after having talked to the both of you. 

Of course, it hurt like a ton of bricks crushing his balls, but he knows the pain is only temporary. Soon enough his sister will come back and he’s going to make sure she doesn’t feel left out. 

The thing is, even after a couple of days Ume doesn’t return home. Nor does she answer Gyutaro’s phone calls. 

Every day you receive worried texts and calls from Gyutaro asking if you’ve seen his sister. You haven’t heard anything from her, and to be honest you think it’s kinda messed up that she’s ignoring her brother like this. Sure they had a pretty big argument but she knows he cares about her, and she knows he’s losing his shit worrying about her right now. 

Seeing your boyfriend so torn up over it is making you really upset, and you’ve had enough of it. 

Ume has been ditching class for a couple of days, but she finally shows up. Coming into the room completely ignoring you, taking her seat at the opposite side of the lecture hall. Even though you hate confrontation you know you can’t just let her walk away after class ends, so you stop her as she’s leaving the lecture hall. 

“Ume! Hey wait up!” you shout as you follow her out of the room. 

“I have nothing to say to you,” she turns her nose up.

“Please talk to me,” you finally catch up to her, “I just want to talk, Gyutaro told me what happened.”

“Of course he did,” she scoffs, “Because you two are so buddy-buddy now. How about you just move in with him and take my spot in the house? I bet you’d like that, huh?”

“What? No! I’m not trying to take him away from you!”

“What else am I supposed to think?! You were my best friend and then I find out you’ve been hooking up with my brother behind my back! You’re a shady bitch!”

“It’s not like that! I was never “hooking up” with him!” You plea, “We just started dating like any other couple, I don’t see why you have to say it like that.”

“So what is it then? If you weren’t just hooking up with him what were you doing then? Do you want his money or something? Want him to be your sugar daddy?” she makes a disgusted face.

“No! You don’t get it! Just because Gyutaro’s older than me doesn’t mean I’m using him for this or that. I just like him because he’s a good guy,” you say, trying to get your point across without yelling at her, “Why can’t you just accept that I like him for who he is?”

Ume’s frown begins to soften and her eyes dart from side to side as if she’s thinking about something. She’s beginning to realize how selfish it was of her to think that someone couldn’t love her brother for who he is. Gyutaro came to the realization that he was unlovable long ago, and his beliefs rubbed off on his sister. But now she’s starting to see how wrong that is, she should have been his biggest cheerleader regardless of how glum things seemed. 

Sure Gyutaro isn’t the most attractive guy, nor is he the most charming, but she knows her brother more than anyone. And she can think of a thousands reasons why someone would fall in love with him. 

“I’m sorry Y/N,” she says, “You’re right. My brother is super slay, and I shouldn’t have been surprised you liked him. You’re the only girl to get close to him, so I guess it makes sense.”

You smile, finally feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

“It’s alright, I know it came as a surprise to you,” you lean forward and hug her, “But I’m honestly just happy to have my friend back.”

“Me too,” she says with a smile.

After you reconcile with Ume, Gyutaro comes to pick you up from campus as the two of you had planned a date for tonight at his place. But when he pulls up to the curb and sees you with Ume he immediately parks his car and gets out.

“Ume!” he shouts as he runs towards you, “Where the hell have you been?!”

“Calm down brother,” she acts nonchalant about being missing for three days, “I was staying with a friend.”

“You had me worried sick,” his voice cracks as he tears up. Feeling a mixture of anger and relief.

“I’m sorry,” she gives him a tight hug, “I-I’ve been a brat lately. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when you told me about Y/N… and I should never have hit you either. I’m really sorry, brother…”

“It’s alright, sis,” immediately Gyutaro’s attitude changes and he has a smile on his face, “You are a brat, but I love you anyways,”

For the first time in your relationship, Gyutaro actually feels normal. Knowing that he has the approval of his sister, he no longer feels so much shame about being older than you. He can confidently walk out in public with you now and hold your hand without giving a fuck. Someone stares at you weirdly? Well, fuck them! Gyutaro is with his girl and he couldn’t care less about anyone else’s opinion about it. He’s happy and you’re happy. That’s all that matters to him. 

The three of you go back to Gyutaro’s house and watch a movie together. The plan was for you and Gyutaro to have a stay-at-home date together, but you decided it’d be best to include Ume too so she doesn’t feel left out. It went well despite the fact that Ume decided to sit in between you and Gyutaro. 

After the movie ends Gyutaro asks you a question as he cleans up some popcorn that fell between the couch cushions, “So uh… did you want to stay the night?”

“Not with me!” Ume butts in, “She has your cooties now!”

“Ume! Shut it!” Gyutaro blushes, “Cooties don’t exist, don’t be so childish.”

“I was just kidding, brother,” she rolls her eyes, “Y/N just stay in my brother's room. Just promise you guys won’t be too loud.”

“H-Hey!! It ain’t like that!!” he shouts with a completely red face as Ume is already walking back towards her bedroom. He knows she’s just teasing him but he still feels very shy when it comes to this kind of thing. Especially since the two of you have only spent one night in the same bed, and both of you vividly remember what took place then.

“It’s ok Gyu,” you chuckle, your cheeks already pink from Ume’s earlier statement, “Let’s just get ready for bed, ok?” 

“Ok…” he grumbles as he finishes cleaning up his sister’s mess. 

Following Gyutaro to his room, you can’t help but think about what might happen tonight. Will you have sex with him again? How will it go? Maybe you’ll try a different position or maybe even oral this time. Your heartbeat quickens as you think about all of the possibilities. 

Little do you know, he’s thinking about the exact same thing. He wants to be intimate with you again so badly. And for the first time instead of feeling awkward and insecure, he feels confident about initiating sex with you.

“I’m going to run a bath for us,” he says after he closes the bedroom door behind you and walks into the bathroom that’s connected to his room. 

“O-Ok,” you stutter as your face heats up. Did he say he’s going to run a bath for us? Meaning he wants to take a bath with you?

As you hear the water running in the bathroom you decide to take off your clothes, only leaving your undergarments. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you take a deep breath and try to calm your thoughts. If you do end up having sex with him tonight, you want to be relaxed so you can enjoy the moment. 

But even though Gyutaro seemed cool and collected he’s freaking out on the inside. And that shows when he comes back into the room to see you in nothing but panties and a bra. Immediately the cool guy act crumbles and he’s staring at you like this is the first time he’s seen a naked woman. 

“U-um Y/N?” he stutters. 

“Is the bath ready?” you sit up to meet his flustered gaze. 

“Yeah,” he nods, tenderly taking your hand and leading you to his pristine bathroom. The first thing you notice is how clean and neat it is compared to Ume’s. 

Gyutaro avoids eye contact with you as he begins removing his clothes. First to go is his shirt, revealing his muscled torso and the large tattoo on his arm. He hesitates when taking off his pants, already feeling himself getting hard. 

“Fuck…” he mutters to himself. Not wanting to make this awkward by just flaunting his hard-on. So he faces away from you and quickly steps into the tub, covering himself with his hand just to be safe. 

To be honest, he got in so quickly that you didn’t even really notice. You do feel a bit shy removing your own clothes though, this will be the first time he’s seen you nude in a fully lit room. 

And your boyfriend can tell just how nervous you are so he doesn’t stare. Only reaching out a hand to help you get into the tub when you’re ready. 

The water is warm and soothing, the surface covered by cherry scented bubbles - which he strategically put in there so you wouldn’t be able to see how achingly hard he is. 

Leaning back with a content sigh, Gyutaro opens his arms to you, “C’mere.”

With a blush you come to your boyfriend and lay your head on his chest, snuggling up to him under the warm water. Surely by now you can feel it, so maybe the bubbles were a waste of time. But that’s ok because Gyutaro isn’t even worried about that anymore, he’s too focused on how lucky he is to be having this moment with you right now. 

“This is nice, Gyu,” you hum as you trail your hand up and down his chest, “I like being alone with you like this.”

“Me too,” he whispers while trying not to moan from your touch. “You-you look really beautiful by the way…” His gaze drifts down to see your curves peeking out from beneath the water. 

He can’t deny it anymore, how badly he wants to have sex with you right now. Ever since you did it the first time it’s constantly been on his mind. But not for the reason you may think. He loved it so much because he felt so loved. It was the first time in his life that he felt so intimately close to someone. That kind of love and closeness is something he’s craved for his entire thirty-five years of life. 

And after today, all of the confidence he gained from finally having his sister’s acceptance, he’s feeling less ashamed of himself. His girl loves him, so why shouldn’t he show her how much he wants her? There’s nothing to be afraid of. 

Mustering all of the confidence he has, Gyutaro gently caresses your cheek - moving a strand of hair away from your face and looking into your eyes. Immediately you feel your knees go weak and your thighs rub together with need. 

He pulls you closer and presses his lips against yours, initiating a heated kiss. 

You can’t help but completely melt into him, allowing him to guide you fully on top of him. Now you’re definitely able to feel his erection as it presses between your legs. But it’s no surprise, you could tell he wanted you by the way he looked at you before he kissed you. 

Beneath the water he maneuvers his hands, one cupping your breast and the other squeezing your thigh. Enjoying the slippery softness of your soapy skin under his touch. Moving his kiss down to your neck, he nibbles and sucks on your delicate skin. 

“Ah, Gyu,” you whimper and hold onto his shoulders. 

He can’t help but smirk, pride building up within him that he’s able to make you melt like this. “M’gonna make love to you,” he whispers into your ear as he moves forward, pushing you to lay on your back as he moves your legs to hang over his shoulders. 

Looking up at him, you feel like your body has become jelly. He looks so sexy as he hovers above you, from the way his long damp hair sticks to his forehead and neck to the way the water droplets cling to his abs and biceps. Not to mention the patch of hair that trails up to his belly button. It all makes you feel butterflies and you can’t help but spread your legs for him. 

Tightly gripping your thighs, he leans forward and whispers, “Don’t worry baby, I’ll go slow,” and gently moves his hips forward - gradually sliding into you, splitting you apart on his length. 

You gasp and squirm beneath him, your body sweats as you are not only surrounded by the warm water but also by his hot body on top of you. 

Once fully inside, he slowly thrusts into you just as he had promised. Making sure to pay close attention to your reaction to make sure you're comfortable. 

And you’re more than comfortable. If anything you’re too comfortable. The fact that he isn’t vigorously ramming into you as if he intends to put a baby in you is unbearable. So you grab his hips and forcefully plunge him into you, “Fuck me harder Gyu!” You pant, desperately trying to guide him to a faster pace. 

His eyes widen and his cheeks turn pink, but he doesn’t need to be told twice. With your permission, he grabs your hips and violently thrusts into you - so hard that the water in the tub spills over the edge. But neither of you care, too lost in pleasure to even notice. 

“Ahh, I wish you could put a baby in me, Gyu!” you moan, not fully realizing what you’re saying. But your statement sparks something within him and triggers a kink he didn’t even know he had. 

“Fuck… I wanna put a baby in you so bad,” he grunts, “gonna stuff you full.”

The thought of getting you pregnant makes Gyutaro absolutely feral. A family is something he’s always wanted, so just the mere idea of you carrying his baby drives him to fuck you even harder. Determined to get as deep as possible, ensuring that his seed fills you nice and full. 

With that thought in mind, he picks you up and holds you close to his body while he stands on his knees. Holding onto your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of wet skin slapping fills the room along with water splattering onto the tile floor. 

Meanwhile, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on tightly while he fucks you silly. Saliva dripping down your chin and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, moaning and gasping as your boyfriend continuously forces the air out of your lungs. Your entire body begins to tingle, you know you’re getting close. And he knows it too by the way your walls are tightening around him. 

That’s the only warning he gets before you’re cumming all over him. Your body shaking as his strong arms hold you up. 

However, his orgasm hits him out of nowhere, as soon as he feels your orgasm hit you it pushes him over the edge as well. He didn’t want to cum just yet but you feel so good that he can’t help it. His cock twitches as it fills you to the brim with his sticky seed. The warmth spreading inside of you comforts you as your sensitive body lies in his arms. 

Gyutaro pants as he holds you there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he gently lowers himself back into the tub, holding you and softly kissing you as you remain in his arms. 

Now that his orgasm has ended, he knows it was all just talk. That he can’t actually get you pregnant since you’re on birth control. But he can tell that a part of what you said was true and not only because it was in the heat of the moment. And it was true for him too. He really would like to get you pregnant and start a family one day. 

“Don’t worry my love,” he whispers, “One day we will start a family together, I promise.” 

You can’t help but smile and snuggle closer to him - hoping that one day you really will get to start a family with him. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

And it won’t be long until Gyutaro makes you an official Shabana.

Because a year later he proposes to you. 

After you graduated and moved in with him he knew that he had to make you his wife. So it wasn’t long until he couldn’t wait any longer and just asked. The two of you were on a weekend trip to the beach when he proposed. Nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic. He hadn’t planned to propose that weekend either, he had been carrying the ring around in his pocket for weeks. But when he saw how beautiful you looked as you walked beside him on the shore, he knew he had to make you his wife as soon as possible. 

You had the wedding four months after the proposal. It was a small ceremony with close family and friends, but it was absolutely perfect. 

Ever since then your life has felt like a dream. 

Gyutaro got a promotion so now he doesn’t have to work overtime as often and there’s no pressure for you to work a full-time job if you don’t want to. Ume moved into an apartment in the city so now it’s just you and Gyutaro living in his house.  He’s even taken up doing some renovations in the kitchen and the spare bedroom too. 

It’s strange how your life changed so quickly after you met Gyutaro. You went from a college student living with your mom to being married and living with your husband in your own house all in the span of a year and a half. 

This isn’t the life you had envisioned yourself having after college, but you wouldn’t change a single thing. It’s perfect, and it’s only going to get better from here. 

“Honey, I’m home!” Gyutaro shouts as he comes into the house, “Sorry I’m late. I wanted to pick us up something from the bakery-” he stops when he looks around and sees you’re nowhere in sight. 

He peeks into the kitchen, “Where the hell is she?” next he checks the garden. “Y/N?” no, not there either. 

Usually, when he gets home from work you’re in the kitchen preparing dinner or sometimes outside in the garden. Sometimes you go out with your friends but you usually tell him first. He’s not mad though, he just assumes you went out and forgot to tell him. 

“Oh well, I’ll text her and see what she wants for dinner tonight,” he says to himself as he takes off his tie. His mind is lost in thought as he thinks about what he wants to make tonight, he’s thinking one of your favorites. 

As he contemplates dinner, he walks into the bedroom to see you sitting on the bed. Immediately he can tell that something is wrong. 

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he walks over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder, “What’s that in your hand?” He asks as he notices you’re clutching something in your hands, hiding it from his view. 

“Gyu… I-I have to tell you something…” you mutter. 

“Babe, you’re scaring me… whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I won’t be mad,” he says in a caring manner, trying to comfort you. 

Your thoughts are spiraling, not sure whether he will be happy or angered by what you say. But you know that it’s something he needs to know. 

However, you can’t even muster the words. So you just hand him the object you had clutched in your palms. 

The room is filled with silence as he closely observes the object, “You… you’re pregnant?”

“Y-yeah, I’m pregnant,” you nod and look up at him, anxious to see his reaction. And it isn’t at all what you had expected. 

There are tears pouring from his eyes as he clutches the positive pregnancy test. All of his walls start crumbling down and he lets it all out, sobbing uncontrollably. 

“Gyutaro?” you gasp, starting to panic. 

Before you can reach out to him he lunges forward and embraces you, tightly wrapping his arms around you. “We-we’re gonna have a baby!” he sobs, “I can’t believe it.”

“Aw honey, so… you’re happy?”

“Of course I’m happy! Th-this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!” he says between sobs.

It seems you were worried for nothing. You knew Gyutaro always wanted children but you didn’t know if he wanted them now especially since you haven’t been married for very long. Gyutaro has always been nothing but loving and supportive towards you, so of course he was overjoyed at the news.

Your husband drops to his knees and presses his forehead against your stomach, “This is everything I’ve ever wanted…”

“Aw Gyu…” you smile and kiss the top of his head, “You’re going to be a great father.”

Hearing those words makes his tears flow even more. “I-I had no idea you were pregnant...”

“It was bound to happen,” you chuckle causing him to chuckle too.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right haha,” he stands and gives you another tight hug. 

The news was shocking to him, but he couldn’t be that surprised. Ever since you got married you’ve been having unprotected sex so it’s no surprise that it happened so soon. However, even though he’s married to a beautiful woman there was still a part of him that told him he was too old to have a family. Too old to have a child of his own. And too old to make a woman like you happy. 

But now he’s finally starting to realize that none of it was true. 

And he does deserve this. Marriage, children, and most importantly you. 

“I love you, Y/N… thank you for making all of my dreams come true.”

Taglist: @gyusimp @kyu-kitsune @idontevenknowlsjsbsbdj @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @chibi-absol @sterzin @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @misskaorii @matsukaah @dawn-rays-dingo @hoshigafuru @gloomysel @tergyri @404starlight @irondreamerface @zoroisminty @edenminx @multisstuff @that1lxnlybxch @emberlovesthemoon @blurpleuni-squid @boggiesho @nekee-lilac02

[absurdthirst]

Rewarded & Rescued {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 18.2k

Warnings: Human trafficking, kidnapping, drugging, mentions of rape, threats of suicide, mentions of Stockholm syndrome, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, biting, protected sex, unprotected sex, angst

Comments: Undercover working for Escobar, Javier is given a horrible gift. A woman, an American. Kidnapped from a club and presented to him as a reward. Unable to let you know who he is, all he can do is reassure you that he won't hurt you. Until you work out that he's not quite what he seems.

A/N: Despite being an American, there are no physical descriptions of the reader. Conversations are in Spanish until indicated they are in English.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Gomez.” Javier looks up from his spot across the room when Herdanez comes into the room. It’s hard to react when his undercover name is called out but he forces himself to look up when he hears it. 

“¿Sí?” He asks, stubbing out his smoke in the ashtray. 

“Boss will see you now.” He says and Javier stands up and makes his way into the office. Escobar stands up and Javier pushes down his hatred of the man as he greets him as fondly as he can manage. 

“Hermano. You’ve been doing a great job. Blackie said he’s impressed and I want to reward your hard work.” He snaps his fingers and the doors open, a woman stumbling in as she is manhandled by Blackie. He refrains from clenching his jaw. He knows what this is. The reward. “She’s yours. To do whatever you want with. And she’s American.” He grins wickedly, handing Peña your passport and your purse. “She can’t go anywhere without this. Take her and keep up the good work.” He says and Javier clenches his jaw, unsure of how to feel but he knows how to react. There’s only one way. He grins and reaches out to shake the boss’s hand. 

“Thank you. She’s perfect.” He says with a smirk and your eyes widen, realizing that you aren’t gonna be rescued by this man.

It had been so stupid to go to that club. Even more stupid than it had been to even come to Colombia. You had risked it, you and the three other girls you had been with. Thinking that nothing would happen to you because you were Americans. Knowing Spanish and speaking fluently didn’t help when you were drugged and kidnapped by a fucking drug cartel. A notorious one at that. Everyone knows about Pablo Escobar. You had joked about buying some coke from him when you were safe in your hometown, planning this trip. Meeting him had been less than joyous though, your friends' fates possibly even worse than your own. They had talked about sharing the others with Escobar’s sicarios, letting all the men fuck them. It seems like you have the privilege of just being raped by one man, instead of numerous ones. “Please.” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and your jaw hurts where the one they call Blackie had punched you. “I just want to go home.” You beg. “I just want to go home.”

Javier wants to shoot every fucker in there for making a woman plead for their life, for their innocence, but he can’t. He has to pretend like he’s as evil as the rest of them. “You aren’t going home.” He says in English. “She’s going home with me.” He chuckles, speaking in Spanish again, “I’m going to fuck her so hard she splits in two. Can’t wait to see her pretty eyes water when I shove my cock down her throat.” He says wickedly, smirking at the other men. “She’s gonna be screaming out.” He chuckles. 

“Are you gonna fuck her ass? It’s cute.” Blackie winks at your horrified face and Javier shrugs, “haven’t decided. Gonna see how she does taking my cock in her pussy. I’m thick so she’s gonna struggle.”

You feel sick to your stomach. So much so that you gag. The only thing keeping you from vomiting is the fact that you are starving, not being fed since waking up in a tiny room after being taken from the club. “Please.” You begin in Spanish and then switch back to English. “Please? I can pay- my parents, they will- what do you want? Please, don’t- don’t do this.” It’s futile, but you have to try, unwilling to become someone’s sex slave.

“Your begging won’t get you anywhere. Nor will your money. Come on chica. I want to get you home.” Javier says in English as he grabs your arm from Blackie. He drags you against him and you struggle. “Don’t struggle. Unless you want me to put a fucking bullet in your brain.” He hisses in warning as he drags you out of the room to Escobar and Blackie grinning and clapping their hands in approval.

“No. No, no, no, no.” You try to fight him, to pull away even with the threat of death. It would be better than your future. You would rather be dead than to endure whatever this disgusting man would have in store for you. The fact that he’s actually attractive doesn’t even register, unable to believe anyone so vile could be remotely good looking. Your wrist hurts from how tight he is gripping it and you feel like your shoulder is going to wrench from the socket as hard as you are pulling back against him. Fruitlessly fighting the inevitable as he drags you out to a four door jeep. “No! Help! Someone please!” You scream, even though there is no one around, obviously planned that way.

He growls at you, “no one is gonna hear your cries here, sweetheart. Just shut the fuck up.” He demands, needing you to be quiet so he can get you up to his apartment and tell you he’s not gonna touch you. He slams the door after shoving you in the back seat and he gets on quickly, locking the doors before he starts the car. You press up against the wall of the car, shaking,  and Javier wants to tell you it’s okay but he can’t. He can’t help you right now. “Stop whimpering. Makes it worse.” He tells you honestly, “be brave.”

Biting your lip, you try to do as he says, sure that these men take pleasure in hearing women cry. Your tears still stream down your face, wondering if he will kill you quickly, crying for your friends. Closing your eyes, you try not to sob.

Javi quickly navigates the traffic and parks in the garage, coming around after killing the engine to open your door and he grabs your arm, “come on.” He hisses, practically dragging you into the elevator. When you press up against the wall, he pushes the button for his floor and you shake. When the doors open, you remain pressed against the wall and he shakes his head, grabbing you to swing you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to his apartment.

It’s almost impossible to keep from kicking and hitting at him, but you keep yourself limp, making him work to carry you. Trying to see what the apartment numbers are and looking back at the elevator so you can run away the first chance you get. The man you’ve been given to is wearing a gun, tucked into the back of his jeans and you bite your lip, wanting to reach it when you get the chance.

He knows where your mind is at. “Don’t bother. It’s not loaded.” He lies, “bullets are in my pocket.” He walks faster and deposits you at the door as he quickly fumbles with his keys, pushing the door open to push you inside within seconds. The lock clicks as he shuts the door and you stumble back, eyes wide and you’re shaking.

“Don’t touch me!” You spit, getting angry. He might overpower you, but you are going to fight him tooth and nail. Make it difficult for him. “I’ll- I’ll kill you.” You stumble back and look around the living room wildly for anything to use as a weapon.

Javier can't help it. He chuckles, shaking his head. "You won't because I ain't gonna touch you, sweetheart." He can't tell you why but he can tell you that he won't harm you. "I - it's a long story but I had to make a show of it back there. I am not - not-" He emphasizes, "that kind of man. I won't touch you. You stay here with me until I can get you out. I can't risk it yet. Gotta make them think that I have violated you to impress them."

Shaking your head, you scoff, not believing him for a minute. He just wants you to let down your guard, to make it easier for him. He steps forward and you leap back, bumping into the coffee table and knocking a letter opener onto the floor with a loud clatter. Looking down, your eyes widen and you drop down to your knees to grab it as he rushes forward. “Stay back!” You scream, holding the sharp tip to your own neck. “One more step and you’ll have to fuck my dead body before it gets too cold!”

“Jesus Christ“ Javier groans, and shakes his head, unable to believe how dramatic you are being. To threaten to take your own life. When he just told you, he wasn’t going to touch you. He guesses he has to make you believe him by his actions, “there is no need for that, sweetheart. I promise you that I’m not going to touch you. I swear on my dead mama‘s grave and I like my women to be willing. I don’t like a fucking struggle. I want a woman to shake in pleasure, not in fear.“

“Then let me go.” You demand, frowning at him. He doesn’t seem angry you are threatening to kill yourself, just annoyed by wasting his time. “I can’t.” He huffs, making you snort. 

“Of course you can’t. Why would you want to give up your gift? Doesn’t matter that I’m a fucking human being! You can’t own me, you don’t own me!” You start to yell again. “I have been threatened with rape, torture, I’ve been beaten and slapped around, my friends are probably raped and murdered too, all because I came to this fucking place and went to a club! Now I want to go home!”

Javier winces, knowing that your friends have definitely suffered a terrible fate at the hands of the sicarios but he won’t let that happen to you. “Listen to me.” He insists, “I can’t let you go because then they’ll know and I - shit - I can’t explain it to you but you got to believe me. Just believe me. I won’t touch you. I’ll make sure you’re fed and safe but you can’t leave.”

You don’t believe him, but it will do nothing more than piss him off to continue to argue with the man. He could just decide to shoot you, so you slowly drop the letter opener from your throat but you don’t let it go. Not fighting him will be as good as it gets.

Javier wants to roll his eyes if you think that you can take him down with a letter opener. “Do you want anything to eat? I doubt those fuckers fed you. I’m not much of a cook but I can do eggs and toast.”

You stare at him for a second. Wondering why, if he’s not like those other men, is he with them. When he just continues to stare at you, you nod slightly. “I- I don’t know what day it is.” You tell him. “I was at the club on Saturday night.”

“It’s Wednesday. They kept you in a room with your friends yesterday because you wouldn’t submit and they needed to make you suffer. Weaken you. It’s what they do. Fuck with your mind, then your body. Let’s get you something to eat and to drink. You gotta be starving.”

You shouldn’t take anything from him. Not when you know that he could just be toying with you, but you are ravenous. You bite your lip and nod once, looking around the apartment once again. Looking for any clue of what kind of man you had been given to.

He nods, making his way into the kitchen. He knows he’s taking a risk having you here and you could easily try to run or try to kill him but he has to take the risk. The bigger risk would be his cover being blown. He doesn’t entirely know if you’re a plant in his home to give information back to Escobar. He trusts no one and he can’t risk anything but he wouldn’t touch you. He could never cross that line. He opens the fridge and grabs the eggs and bread, grabbing the bottles of water to give you, certain that you’ll want something sealed until you can trust him.

It’s comforting that he’s given you something sealed but you discreetly turn the water bottle upside down and squeeze it to make sure there’s not a needle hole in the plastic. When it holds, you eagerly turn it upright and quickly break the seal. Gulping down the water in desperate gulps as you think it might be the best water you’ve ever tasted because you are so thirsty.

Javier watches you down the water as he puts the pans on the stove to begin cooking. The eggs start to cook and he turns to look at you, to really look at you. You’re gorgeous. No need to deny that to himself but he knows you’re angry and sad. Rightly so. He is for you. That this fuckers are doing this to other women and getting away with it. That’s why he’s doing this. Because of Helena, because of the lives that are destroyed directly or indirectly by Escobar.

You feel better just by drinking the water, but your stomach is still panging with hunger. The smell of the food making you moan quietly, unconsciously stepping towards the kitchen and the man inside it. “Are you- I can have some food?” You ask quietly. “Without doing things?”

Javier wants to growl out his frustration at you being worried that he wants something in exchange for food. The basic need. It’s insulting. He turns to look at you incredulously. “Are you fucking kidding? I- I just told you I didn’t want anything and this is food. You need food. Like I said, I like my women to give me all encompassing consent and I want them to be fully enjoying themselves. A struggle isn’t a turn on for me. It’s disgusting.” He says honestly, his face straight to convey the seriousness of his statement until he turns back to stir the scrambled eggs.

For a moment, you feel guilty. He seems genuinely disgusted by the idea of demanding favors from you, but he had accepted you as some sort of bonus from his boss. You swallow harshly and toy with the letter opener that’s still in your other hand. “Can I have more water? My- my mouth is still dry.”

“Sure. There’s plenty in the fridge. Go get one.” He says, wanting to give you some autonomy in a situation that makes you feel trapped. He watches you hesitate before you walk over to the fridge and he starts to butter the bread and puts it on the pan to toast.

You grab another water and look through the contents of the fridge. There’s not much, obviously he doesn’t eat here often and you wonder why he’s bothering to cook for you. More importantly, why aren’t you trying to get out of the apartment? You’re tired, hungry and he’s holding your passport. That’s why. You move over to a barstool at the counter and plop down, overwhelmed by everything.

He glances over his shoulder at you as he plates up the food, turning off the stove and he carries the plates over to the counter, setting them down in front of you and he turns back to clean up. “Eat.” He orders you with a point before he turns back to clean up.

It’s probably the gruffest nice thing that anyone has ever done for you, and you want to resist, but you’re starving. Falling on the simple breakfast with an enthusiasm that surprises you.

Javi notices how hungry you are and he pushes the other plate towards you. “Have that. You’re hungry. I already ate today.” He says as he washes up the pans, allowing you to have your meal in peace. He wants you to relax a little, realize he isn’t going to hurt you.

You shouldn’t accept it, but you’re too hungry to push it away. Devouring your eggs and toast before pushing the empty plate away and starting on the next. You might make yourself sick, but right now, you don’t even care.

He’s pleased that you are eating. You clearly need it after those bastards starved you. “I’m sure you want a shower too. I have a shirt you can borrow and some boxers - they’re new…I don’t really wear them.” He confesses, “I’ll see about getting you some clothes tomorrow.” He says, knowing he’s gonna need some help from one of the girls to get the right stuff. All he knows about clothes is ripping them off and he doesn’t want to do that to you.

You freeze for a moment, sure that the offer is just a ploy to leave you naked and vulnerable. His stance is unsure when he turns back to you, as if he’s embarrassed by the idea of not having clothes for you and that makes you relax. “I- I won’t-“ you pause, not sure of what you will say. “Thank you.”

Javier nods, “you need clothes and toiletries. Make a list of what you need and your sizes and I’ll get it sorted.” He promises as he scrubs the pan while you finish eating. He’s not sure how he’s going to get you out of the country without Escobar knowing. He will have to think about it later when you’re settled and not trying to stab yourself or him with a letter opener.

You can’t believe this man is willing to buy you clothes. Frowning slightly as you swallow the last bite of eggs. “Why do you work for a man like that?” You ask. “If you aren’t like him? How can you stand what he does to people?”

“It’s complicated.” Javier tells you as he wipes the counter down before he turns back to look at you. “I can’t tell you why. It would put you in even more danger. I know you can’t but all I can ask is that you trust me.” He pleads, needing you to believe that he’s here to be a good man, not like them.

You have no choice but to believe that he isn’t like those other men. It’s not like you can do much if he is, regardless. Your eyes are on his and you nod, realizing that he looks haunted. His dark eyes are trying to tell you something, but you don’t know what. “The American newspapers say the DEA will catch Escobar any day now.” You tell him. “You might want to stop working for him if you want to avoid jail or being killed.”

Javier can’t help but snort, “sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll keep that in mind.” Unable to tell you that he’s DEA. He can’t tell you anything, just in case you are a plant from Escobar. Your reactions tell him you aren’t but he can never be too sure.

You can only pray that you are still alive by the time that Escobar is taken down. You scrape the plate clean and sigh softly. Your stomach doesn’t hurt any more but you’re emotional and honestly exhausted. Yawning catches you off guard and you try to hide it from the man.

Javier notices and bites his lip, watching you for a second. “You wanna shower before you go to bed?” He asks, “I have a guest room. It’s all yours.” He adds when you narrow your eyes at him. He guides you to the bedroom and shows you the shower. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He offers, knowing you’ll want some alone time.

You’re alone and it should be the time that you are running to the window to see if you can escape or signal someone, but you’re too tired. Beaten down already and just wanting to shower and sleep. He’s bringing you clothes so you can’t lock the door, but you do lock the door to the bathroom before you strip your clothes off. The letter opener on the edge of the tub.

He grabs some clothes for you, setting them on the bed, and he wonders what’s going through your mind. You must be terrified. He wants to grab his gun and kill every fucker who does this to a woman. Make them pay. He can’t, not yet. He has to take this operation down from the inside out. He rubs his cheek while you shower, grabbing his pack of cigarettes to quickly light one. It’s gonna be hard to keep himself from thinking about how gorgeous you are. You are a beautiful woman and he can never tell you. You’d immediately be on alert and not trust him.

You feel better now that you’ve showered. Clean. You had scrubbed your skin so hard it practically squeaks and you are glad to trade the club dress that was stained and torn for the comfortable t-shirt and boxers that were waiting on the bed when you had peeked out the door to find no one in the room.

Javier snubs out his smoke and picks up the phone, dialing in on a classified number and giving his code name for access. “Peña. How’s it going?” His partner Steve asks. 

“Christ, they gave me a girl. To do whatever I want with.” He tells Steve who groans down the phone. 

“What are you gonna do with her? Fuck her?” Steve asks and Javi growls, “fuck no. She - she’s American. I have her passport. I need to figure out how to get her on a plane without Escobar knowing what I’ve done.” Javi explains.

Steve hums down the phone, “let me sort that out. You can’t risk having some girl in your apartment. Jesus, never thought I’d say that.” Steve snorts, “leave it with me.” He says before the line goes dead and Javier sighs.

Back in the bedroom, you are too exhausted to come back out, but you don’t completely trust the man who’s apartment you are in. Sliding a chair under the doorknob would be too obvious, so you put the letter opener under your pillow when you collapse onto the bed, ready to sleep. Hopefully, this will all be a bad dream and you will wake up from it soon.

Javier takes a sip of the whiskey, staring at the papers on the kitchen table while you sleep. He’s trying to figure out where the illegal money goes and who the money man is. If he can figure that out, he can track them down and bring them in. Escobar has had the government in his pocket for too long and they need undeniable evidence to make anyone take notice and question the cartel leader.

You sleep for hours. The sun is gone and the room is dark when you wake up. Making you think that maybe you had dreamed it all when you feel the letter opener under the pillow. Screaming when you realize you really are in this nightmare and not waking up safe and at home.

Javier rushes into the bedroom, eyes wide and gun in hand as he wonders if somehow someone from the cartel has realized who he is and has decided to take you both out. When he sees you sitting up, he glances around the room with his gun drawn. “What the fuck?” He shouts, heart pounding.

Eyes wide. You gulp. “S-sorry.” You bite your lip and raise your hands, leaving the letter opener under the pillow. “Bad dream.” You explain quietly. “I-I had a bad dream.”

He lowers the gun, feeling guilty for you having bad dreams. He shakes his head and shoves the gun into the back of his pants. “Jesus. Scared the shit out of me.” He confesses, placing his hand on his racing heart. “You want something to drink?” He asks, knowing you might not but he needs something to take the edge off.

You tilt your head, confused at the way this man just offers you casual hospitality like you aren’t his property. Nodding slowly, you have to admit that it would be good to relax a bit. “I- thank you.” You mumble. “For not shooting me.”

Javier snorts, “yeah well, I don’t usually hesitate before shooting.” He confesses, “but I wouldn’t shoot you.” He promises as he walks into the living room and over to the bar cart. “I have whiskey and…vodka.” He says, knowing that whiskey is the only thing he drinks so he has vodka for any of his female company that comes over to give him intel.

“I drink what you drink.” You decide, figuring it would be safer to have the same thing he is. He was less likely to drug your drink that way. You scramble after him, wearing the clothes he had brought you and in your haste, you had forgotten the letter opener.

Javier nods, grabbing two glasses and he pours out a heavy measure of whiskey into each glass. He knows you need it and he definitely fucking does. He hands you the glass after letting you watch him pour and he takes a sip to assure you it’s safe. “I’m sorry you’re here. In this shit situation with me.”

“I don’t understand.” You take a sip of your whiskey after he does. “You don’t act like Escobar, joking about what he would do with me if he wasn’t giving me to you. Yet, you had done something vile enough to rate getting a real live sex toy.” You snort. “A fresh cunt as Pablo said.”

Javier turns to look you in the eye, “don’t be mistaken. I’m not a good man. I’ve done a lot of shit. Bad shit. But that- touching a woman without her consent? That is too fucking far. I’ll kill bad men but I won’t kill women or children. I need to prove myself to Escobar but not by violating an innocent woman. I meant what I said…I like my women willing and consensual.”

You contemplate what he says, watching him closely and realize that he really is handsome. His chiseled jaw compliments his sharp nose and is softened by the mustache that is straight from the 70’s. “You must have been a Bandit fan.” You tell him suddenly, thinking about the American movie.

Javier chuckles, “I did love watching Burt Reynolds but I tried the 80s and didn’t like the clothes of the music. Didn’t fit me so I turned back to my old closet and I’ve never looked back since.” He smirks, “most women say it suits me.” He shrugs and takes another sip of his drink.

It does suit him and he knows it. You settle in the chair opposite him a little more. “So you aren’t going to hurt me, but you can’t let me go? Right?” You bite your lip. “Tell me, what are you going to do with me?”

Javier sighs, setting his glass down. “You’re gonna stay here until I can figure out how to get you home.” He reveals, “it’s too dangerous to let you go. They’ll find out I let you go and then it’s my ass on the line. Give me time to figure it out and then I’ll get you home.”

“Why?” You frown, looking down into the last drops of your whiskey and then back up at him. “You don’t know me, I’m nothing to you.” It’s harsh, but it’s also reality. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he’s going to risk himself for you?

“You represent the many women who have been abused or killed at the hands of Pablo Escobar and his sicarios. You won’t be one of the many who have suffered at their hands. You’ll go home and tell the world about this tragedy and tell them that Pablo Escobar needs to be taken down.” He says, measuring your reaction.

You stare at him in shock for a moment, unable to believe that he just said that about his boss. Biting your lip, your eyes water emotionally and you nod. “I’ll scream it every chance I get if I survive this.” You know there’s a good chance you won’t live. “He’s- he’s a monster. One who pretends to be noble.” You snort and shake your head. “I’m so fucking stupid. My friends and I- we joked about meeting Escobar on this trip. Buying some coke from him. I’ve never fucking done coke, but I was so cute, thinking that I could meet a drug kingpin.” You shudder and look back down at your drink. “Wish I had fucking missed my flight. Never come here.”

Javier reaches out to touch your hand before he pulls it back. “Don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here. You’ll be safe with me. You shouldn’t have come to Colombia. You should’ve stayed at home. You and your friends shouldn’t have come but you’ll get home.” He promises, “I’ll get you home.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper quietly. “This is all my fault. It was my idea to come.” You confess. “My friends- they-“ you shake your head, unable to even voice the horrible things that you imagine they are going through. “It’s my fault.”

Javier doesn’t try to placate you with words when you know you’ve fucked up. He doesn’t want to upset you even more but he doesn’t comfort you. “Like I said, you will go home. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I’ll believe you.” You snort, tossing back the rest of the whiskey and holding out the glass for another. “If I don’t, I’ll drive myself crazy.”

Javier nods in understanding as he grabs the glass and refills it. “You can’t leave here, you understand? If you leave, you die. I can’t protect you outside of this apartment.” He says as he hands you back the glass.

“I won’t leave.” You promise, shaking your head. “If you are actually not going to hurt me and keep me safe, I will do whatever you want me to. I just want to go home.”

“I’ll get you home.” Javi promises, his dark eyes meeting yours as he swears he will do whatever it takes to get you home. “Just do what I tell you and you’ll get home.” He swears, downing the rest of his drink. 

**** 

It’s been a few days that you’ve been in his apartment and Javier has left to check in with the sicarios, having to lie and tell them the disgusting things they’d expect him to do to you. They laugh and he pretends to go along with it, making out like he’s done those vile things to you. When he returns to his apartment, he unlocks the door to find you walking around in the fucking shorts he bought you from the list you gave him. He feels disgusting for finding you attractive but you are. You’re gorgeous and he finds himself thinking about you but he would never cross a line, you trust him and he wouldn’t break that trust.

You turn towards the door and watch him walk in, smiling at the sight of him. “Hey.” You greet him and hurry over the bar cart. You have learned that he loves to have whiskey, especially when he’s dealing with the Escobar or his cronies. Pouring him a drink, you hold it out to him. “I started dinner. It should be done soon.”

“That smells good.” He tells you, groaning at the scent wafting from the kitchen. You’ve taken to cooking dinner and for a man who usually survives on booze and cigarettes, it’s a welcome change in his apartment. “What’s cooking?” He asks as he takes the drink from your hand. God, you’re fucking beautiful and can cook. Any man’s dream but he can’t kiss you. Even if he wants to. It’s hard for him to distance himself when he’s so used to physical contact. He hasn’t brought back any of his contacts to the apartment.

“You had some meat in the freezer so it’s like a birria, but I didn’t have tomatoes.” You shrug slightly as he lifts the lid on the pot. “Hopefully it’s good. Although maybe I need to give you a shopping list.”

“Smells fucking delicious.” He groans, “you’re a good cook.” He says and turns back after setting the lid back on the pot. “You’re - you’re too good to me considering the situation.” He murmurs, sliding his eyes across the room guiltily, knowing that his contacts at the embassy are working on how to get you out of the country without anyone knowing.

“You could be a lot worse to me.” You acknowledge. “You could have given me back. I’m grateful that you have kept your word and kept me safe.”

Javier nods, reaching out to gently touch your upper arm. “I am working on getting you out. It’s not gonna be easy but I’m working on it.” He tells you, lowering his hand when he reminds himself that you probably don’t fully trust him even if he’s given you no reason to doubt him.

“I- I appreciate it.” You murmur quietly, looking down at the rice you are cooking. It’s been harder to ignore how attractive he is since you’ve settled in and realized that you are safe. “I really do. So while I can, I’m going to take care of you.”

Javier is surprised and he shakes his head, a little pleased that you feel comfortable with him. “You don’t have to but I appreciate it.” He tells you softly, “now…you want something to drink and then I’ll show you the new clothes I got you.” He says, knowing you need more clothes, he had gotten the girls who work for Escobar to help him get some things.

“You bought me more clothes?” Your eyes widen. “All I do is stay in your apartment. What you had gotten for me was fine.” You promise. You aren’t ungrateful, but he’s not going to take you anywhere, so as long as you’re covered, you’re fine. In fact, you have grown comfortable walking around his apartment in shorts and one of his t-shirts.

“I just wanted you to have some choices.” He shrugs, a little flustered. He must admit that he loves seeing you in his shirts but he can’t admit that to you. You’d think he’s a creep. “I spoke to someone today who is working on getting you a fake passport to get you into the airport and on the plane so Escobar isn’t flagged that you’re leaving.”

“Do you think that could actually happen?” Your eyes are wide and hopeful. “That’s amazing!” You bite your lip so you don’t cry, noticing that tears make him uncomfortable.

“I’m working on it, beautiful.” He promises, “I’m not that bad to live with, I hope, that you want to go because of me.” He teases softly and he winks at you. You have slotted into his life seamlessly and he isn’t sure how to feel about it.

You laugh and bite your lip again, this time to keep from saying that he is great. For a man who obviously has done horrible things, he’s actually pretty fantastic. He is kind, respectable, and intelligent. You’ve spent hours reading the books in his apartment. “No, not because of you. I think that you might be my guardian angel.”

Javier sighs and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t say that. I- I’ve done bad things in my life. I’m not a good man but like I said, I would never hurt a woman. My mama would slap me across the head if she were alive.” He says, ducking his head and he bites his lip, “when’s dinner gonna be ready? I’ll set the table.”

You shake your head and push him away from the stove playfully. “Go shower.” You insist. “You stink.” He doesn’t, but you want to take care of him. He should relax and get clean. “Shoo.”

He chuckles and nods, making his way out of the kitchen to shower and clean up. He never imagined he’d enjoy this kind of life. The one where he comes home to a home cooked meal and a woman that makes his heart flutter - not that he’d ever tell you that. He can’t get involved with you. You don’t actually know him or who he is. He needs to get you home and safe and he needs to take down Escobar.

Setting the table is so domestic. Like all of this. The table setting is for two, since he insists you eat as well and it’s shameful but you imagine he’s your boyfriend that you are cooking for. That you are together and he will kiss you before you eat. The rice is done and you smirk when you hear the shower start up, knowing that he will feel better after getting clean.

Javier showers and he can’t help his cock hardening at the thought of you walking around in his shirt wearing those short shorts. Fuck, he shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t touch himself at the thought of you. He wants it. It’s hard not to when you look at him with those eyes. “Shit.” He hisses in English, reaching down to grip his hard cock, knowing this won’t go away until he deals with it. He slowly pumps, imagining you spread out on his kitchen table instead of your delicious food.

You fix yourself a drink too, aware that he doesn’t mind and sip it while you chop the few vegetables he had to make a salad. The man needs some proper food. And not from a restaurant like he had been doing. It feels good to do this, and you can see he appreciates it. Loving how he groans when he eats, you touched yourself last night imagining those groans were his sex noises.

He pants as he jerks himself off, the hot water running down his back as he imagined those little whimpers you make sometimes are from his mouth on your pussy. He wants to hear how you moan, see how you cum. You are as intoxicating as the whiskey you serve him and fuck if he doesn't want to drown in you.

The timer on the stove goes off and you smirk when you open the lid again. It’s smelling delicious and will be perfect the rice and the tortillas. His shower is taking longer than normal, so you don’t dish it up just yet, wanting it to be steaming hot when he sits down to eat

He groans when he cums, painting the shower tiles with his seed as he clenches his eyes shut and thinks about you. How fucking perfect you are. He pants as he rests his forehead on the cool tile as he slowly works his cock until he lets go and washes off the wall. He will do whatever it takes to get you home. You deserve to be safe and with your family. After turning off the shower and drying off, he dresses and makes his way back into the kitchen. "Smell better?" He asks teasingly.

You grin and lean in to sniff him when there’s the sound of gunfire, seemingly right outside the window. “Get down!” He screams in perfect English as he grabs your arm and pushes you down, under the table and sprints across the room to his gun.

His heart pounds as he grabs his gun and presses against the wall beside the window. The gun shots become more distant and he chances a peek out the window. Seeing a young kid running away. It’s something that happens with the young teenagers fighting in their own gangs. He pants as he lowers his gun, tense but glad to know you’re not in danger. You’re under the table so he sets the gun on the side and kneels down to see you. “You okay, sweetheart?” He asks you, again in perfect English, forgetting to keep up speaking in his mother tongue around you.

English. His English is perfect, not even a hint of an accent. He's an American. Your eyes widen in horror and you jerk back when he reaches for you. “You’re an American!” You screech, pushing out from under the table and moving to the other side, keeping the table between you. “You motherfucker, you’ve been lying to me! What is this? Some kind of trick? You’re planning on trafficking me?”

Javier curses softly under his breath at his fuck up. “No! No! I- shit. I can’t tell you. I can’t but you have to trust me. I’m American and I’m- I’m one of the good guys.” He winces at how bad that sounds but it’s true. “You gotta just trust me, sweetheart. I’m gonna get you home.”

“Stay back.” You shake your head and your heart drops. “I- I don’t believe you. I’ve been here for days and you’ve just pretended that you aren’t American! How can I trust anything you say?”

“You have to.” He says harshly, “I’m the only way you’re going to get out of this country. I’m your only hope. So you better trust me or you will be stuck here forever.” He half threatens, needing you to understand the gravity of the situation.

Your eyes widen and you swallow harshly. “You’re an asshole.” You decide, not hungry anymore and you turn around and march towards the second bedroom he had given you to use.

Javier sighs, feeling all the progress goes down the drain as you slam the door and he leans against the counter, looking down at the food you cooked. He washes up and puts the food in the fridge, sighing your name as he wonders what to do now. He needs you to trust him for this to work. He decides to call Steve and see how things are going with the passport situation.

You don’t come out of the bedroom until you hear him leave the apartment again. Sighing as you come out to find that he had cleaned up the kitchen and put everything away. The clothes he had bought are neatly stacked on the counter.

Javier sits in the bar, smoking his cigarette, and the woman walks past. His eyes trail along her figure but he finds the usual fire he feels absent. Usually he’d be chasing her but now, all he can think about is you. He met with Steve in an abandoned parking lot, discussing the details and timeline on the passport for you. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, asking if he liked you, to which Javi vehemently shook his head. Now, he’s giving you space and he knows he has to go home soon to check on you.

Biting your lip, you look at the closed door that is leading to his bedroom. You haven’t been in there before, but now you want to see what this man is like. Walking over to it, you push the door opened and step inside.

Javier downs the rest of his drink and the woman stands at the bar making eyes at him. He smirks at her and winks but walks straight past her to head home. He hasn’t slept with anyone since you arrived because he didn’t want anyone to see you and he has to keep up appearances that you’re his sex toy. It’s been a while for a man who uses sex to process his emotions. He heads out the door and makes his way home, eager to see you and make amends.

You find his room to be really tidy for a man. His bed is neatly made and his dirty clothes are in a basket. All in all, the room is devoid of anything personal. Which makes you wonder even more about him. About why he is working with Escobar.

Javier comes down the hall of the building and quickly unlocks the door. You clearly don’t hear him because he finds you in his room, the door open, and he can’t help but confront you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Trying to find out who you are.” You don’t even try to lie, you don’t need to. Closing the beside drawer, you stand up straight. “What I’ve found, is that you are either the most unsentimental man on the planet, or you are here - working for Escobar - for a reason.

He appreciates you not lying to him and he knows he hasn’t told you anything. Maybe now is the time to tell you. “Come have a drink with me and I’ll tell you who I am.” He says, jerking his chin towards the door and he makes his way out into the living room and over to the bar cart.

He’s not yelling at you, or demanding you get out of his room and it puts you at ease more than anything else. Following him quietly and sitting down on the couch while he pours you both drinks.

Javier hands you the drink before he comes over to sit next to you on the sofa. He’s torn on telling you but he also thinks you deserve to know the truth now. He trusts you. He knows you aren’t working for Escobar otherwise his door would’ve been pushed down by now and a bullet in his chest. “I, uh, I don’t work for Escobar. Well, I do but…I’m actually a DEA agent and I am undercover working to take down Escobar and his cartel.” He reveals, deciding to cut straight to the truth.

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops open. What you had expected, you don’t know, but it wasn’t that he was a DEA agent. “I- are you for real?” You demand. “A fucking DEA agent? You must have been laughing at me when I said that the agency was close to catching Escobar?”

Javier shakes his head, “I wish we were closer. I wasn’t - I wasn’t original assigned to do this but I have to take him down. That’s why- it’s why I had to pretend that I was gonna abuse you. That’s what they expect of me and if I didn’t do that, I would’ve been found out.” He says with a sigh, taking a sip of his drink.

You stare down at your drink and sigh. “So the DEA knows Escobar is kidnapping women and trafficking them?” You ask quietly. “Good. Motherfucker needs to pay for what he did to me, to my friends.”

Javier nods, “he’s gonna pay. For all of it. He’s gonna be taken down and I’m gonna do whatever it takes to make sure he pays for what he’s done.” Javier promises, “I’m just - I’m sorry you’ve gotten tangled up in this. That you’re stuck here with me.” He finishes with a murmur.

“Out of everyone Escobar could have given me to, I’m glad it’s you.” You admit quietly. “I could have been really screwed.” You snort at your pun. “Literally.” It’s better to joke about it now, to break the tension. Even if there’s nothing funny about what could have happened. “So now you don’t have to pretend with me anymore.”

Javier nods, "I am glad I don't have to pretend anymore, sweetheart. I - my pa would kill me for lying to a beautiful woman." He chuckles softly, looking down at his glass, sloshing the liquid.

Your brow raises at the words he uses. “You think I’m beautiful?” You ask in surprise. “I- I didn’t think that you- you never- I-“ you break off and just shrug.

He sighs and shakes his head, "I didn't want you to think that I wanted to save you because I wanted you to - you know. That was what I saved you from. You're gorgeous and I - I gotta tell you, sweetheart, I ain't got the best reputation around town. I, uh, a lot of sicarios spend their time in the brothels and...so do I."

“Do you beat the women?” You ask seriously. “Abuse them? You once told me that you like your women willing and eager to fall into bed with you. Is that true?”

He shakes his head immediately, "no. Shit. No. I don't - I pay them well. They give me intel and I, uh, I make sure they enjoy the time they spend with me. I haven't been since you got here." He confesses, biting his lip.

“Because of me….” You bite your lip and you can’t help how that makes you feel. Almost proud that he’s not been with anyone else. “Is that because you don’t want them to know you aren’t touching me?”

“Partly. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I didn't want to make you feel awkward and I didn't want to leave you alone for too long. And...and because none of them interest me since you've arrived."He admits, his dark eyes flicking up to yours as he worries about your reaction.

“Do I interest you?” You ask softly, afraid that you’re reading too much into this and wait for him to tell you no. The nod is so subtle, you almost miss it, but it’s there. He wants you. You look down at your drink and set it down on the coffee table. “I’m going to go into your bedroom.” You announce as you stand up, “come in two minutes from now.”

His eyes widen slightly and he swallows down the rest of his whiskey when you disappear into his bedroom. He rubs his hands on his jeans, Adam's apple bobbing with nerves. He is used to paying a woman for sex. You are different. You want him, actually want him, and he holds your life in his hands. He wants to keep you safe from everything...including him. Yet he can't deny what he wants. He wants you. Standing up, he waits another thirty seconds before he makes his way into his bedroom.

Inside his bedroom, you strip down to nothing. Aware that he could reject you or end up being a far different lover than what you’ve imagined but you have to take the risk. You want to feel alive for the first time since this entire ordeal started and ironically, you’ll achieve that by fucking the man you had been given to. Except you are in charge of your body, and you want him to touch you. You kneel down on the bed and look at the door when it opens.

Javier inhales deeply when he sees you naked and kneeling on his bed. Christ, you're gorgeous. He slowly walks over to the bed, his cock twitching in his jeans, and he reaches out to gently grip your chin, making you look at him. "Tell me what you want, hermosa." He orders softly, wanting to hear you say it before he goes any further.

It’s so strange to hear his voice in English after hearing it for days in Spanish. You bite your lip and turn your head to kiss his palm. “I’ve imagined you touching me. Making me cum.” You admit when you nuzzle back into his hand. “I want you to tell me your real first name so I can cry that out when I cum.”

He nods, pleased that you want him to make you cum. It’s what he’s imagined since you arrived. “Javier. My name is Javier but you can call me Javi.” He tells you, caressing your cheek until his hand slides down to your neck. He squeezes it gently and slides it lower until he’s cupping your breast. “Eres hermosa.” He murmurs, “I’ve thought about you in my bed.” He confesses, “thought about making you cry out my real name.” He squeezes your breast before he pinches your nipple.

You gasp out in pleasure at the sudden, brief burst of painful bliss. It’s just the right amount of roughness that you would enjoy anytime but especially right now. “J-Javi.” You whimper, already struggling to keep your eyes open so you can watch him touch you. “Do what you imagined to me.” You beg softly

He groans softly, letting go of your breast to cup your cheek again and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Pushing you back on the bed as he shifts to hover over you. Managing to kick his shoes off as he straddles your naked body, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

There’s something intoxicating about his clothed body grinding against yours. Enjoying the rough feel of his jeans against your thighs and core when he presses a leg between yours. His shirt is hanging down and you capture it, starting to unbutton it to feel his hot skin underneath your fingers as you kiss.

He’s already drunk on you. Groaning into your mouth as you fumble to undo his shirt and his hand slides down to squeeze your tit again. Unable to stop himself, he pulls away from your mouth, kisses down your neck, and takes your nipple into his mouth.

"Ohhhh fuck." you toss your head back against the pillows and whine at the sensation of his hot mouth against your nipple. HIs tongue running over it again and his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. "That's- so good." you pant out, running your fingers through his hair and tugging on it lightly.

He groans into your skin, switching over to your other breast, and his tongue soothes the flesh after he bites down. Your moans and gasps have him throbbing in his pants and he shifts to continue kissing down your body, his tongue dipping into your belly button before he shifts to spread your thighs with his shoulders. Breathing you in, he gets a good look at your dripping wet cunt.

"Are you- you do that?" You ask breathlessly, lifting your head and looking down at him in shock. It was rare to find a man willing to even get close to a cunt with his face, but he seems almost eager. "You don't have to- I know that I'm wet enough."

Javier looks up at your confused expression and he snorts, “baby. I love pussy. I love burying my face in a pussy. I wanna bury my face in this pussy.” He says and surges forward to slide his tongue through your folds, groaning as your tangy taste hits his taste buds.

You whine, toes curling up and digging into the sheets underneath you. "Oh fuck!" you cry out, unable to believe that this man has his tongue sliding through your folds with an eagerness that would have you believing the women he paid were actually paying him. "Oh fuck, Javi."

He grins against your wet flesh, his fingers grabbing your thighs to push them back so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. The way you cry out has him grinding into the mattress and he’s glad he has his jeans on still.

Javi doesn’t just lick you to show that he will eat pussy, he licks you like it’s his only purpose. Thoroughly taking you apart one sharp flick of his tongue at a time, with his nose pressed against your mound and his hot breath puffing against your cunt.

Javier groans, loving your breathlessly whimpers and cries of his name, cries of nothing as you react to his tongue. He’s determined to hear you cum, to fall apart on his tongue. He wants to hear your pleasure. He closes his eyes for a second until you tug on his hair and he hisses into your pussy, dark eyes opening to meet yours.

“You like that?” You get your answer when you tug on his hair again and he groans into your folds again. Making you smirk slightly as you loosen your grip. “Make me cum.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His lips wrap around your clit, sucking hard, and he needs you to fall apart beneath his tongue. His fingers press into your thighs as he spreads you further open for him.

Your thighs fall open for him. Willing to let him get as deep as he wishes if he continues to touch you like this. One hand buries itself back into his longer hair and the other grips the sheets tight. “Javi- oh- oh Jaaaaaavvviiiii!” You squeal when the next suck makes you fall over the edge and you shake in pleasure.

He works you through it, loving the way your thighs shake and you squeal his name. It almost makes him cum. He laps at your essence, loving the tangy taste as he eagerly drinks up every drop while he works you through your pleasure until you’re pushing his head away when it becomes too much for you.

“Oh fuck.” Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath but you want him to kiss you. Tugging gently on his hair and his shoulder, you urge him to crawl up your body. “Kiss me, fuck, I need you to kiss me.”

He can’t deny you anything. He crawls up your body, groaning your name as he wastes no time pressing his lips to yours. His tongue pushes into your mouth as he settles between your thighs again, grinding into you.

Your fingers slide down to the belt around his waist. Needing to strip him down and feel him. Unbuckling the clasp and flicking open the button. “Shit…” you hiss, reaching down and discovering he doesn’t wear underwear.

Javier grunts when you reach in to pull his cock out. He’s hard for you, aching really after jerking off so many times in the shower to thoughts of you. “Fuck baby. You feel too damn good. You want me to fuck you?” He asks gruffly, his cock twitching in your tight grip.

“Fuck, Javi, you- yessssss.” You moan. Your cunt clenches every time he twitches and he’s thick enough that you will feel him after you’re done. “I want you to fuck me. Take your pants off and slide inside me.”

He nods, shifting off of the bed to push his pants down. He kicks them aside and his cock bounces as he walks over to the nightstand to get a condom out. He wants to make sure you’re protected, even from him. He rips it open and rolls it down his cock, shifting to kneel on the bed. “You sure you want me inside if you?” He asks, wanting to make sure you fully consent.

You spread your legs wider, nodding. “Fuck yes.” You moan. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.” You aren’t above begging at this point. You’ve cum, but you really want to see what he looks like when he falls apart.

He nods, shuffling closer between your thighs and he grips his cock, swiping it through your folds. He groans at the heat of you as he notches himself at your entrance and his eyes meet yours as he pushes inside of you. Slow, not wanting to hurt you. He shifts to press his weight onto his forearms as he hovers over you.

Your mouth drops open as he slowly fills you. Enjoying the slight pinch and the fullness he gives you. “Oh fuck, Javi.” You moan, eyes fluttering close and you slide your hand up his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss. “Move.”

He doesn’t disobey you. He kisses you as he starts to move, slowly pulling out of you and he pulls back to watch your face as he pushes back into you. “Want you to enjoy this. Every second. You tell me what you need.” He demands, rocking inside of you, a slow pace at first to let you get used to him.

“Want to feel you for days.” You whimper, wrapping your legs around him. “Fuck me hard. Like you would one of the other women you fuck.”

He shakes his head, “you’re not like the other women. You deserve more. You are more.” He says softly, his dark eyes sincere as he looks at you with something close to love but it’s not. Not yet. He starts to move again, rocking into you.

You don’t argue, you can’t when he’s moving inside you. Sensual with just a bit of roughness, it’s perfect. Making you moan every time his hips hit yours.

He loves hearing you moan. He leans down to kiss along your neck, his hips grinding against yours. He’s not as rough as he could be, not wanting to be the man the other sicarios thought he’d be with you. He wants to be soft and sensual. “Hermosa.” He murmurs against your neck, “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

There is a tenderness to his kisses on your skin that makes your eyes water. This man is truly better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Your arms tighten around him and your cunt squeezes him tight. “So handsome. I can’t believe that those men think you are the same as them. You aren’t.”

He doesn’t respond, knowing he’s done bad things to take down bad men, but now isn’t the time to explain that. He continues kissing along your skin, down your chest until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. His hips move to push deep inside of you, switching the angle slightly as he tries to find that spot inside of you.

“Oh fuck- there!” You gasp out when he hits deep inside you and make your eyes fly open in pleasure. His cock hits against it again and you moan. Your fingernails dig into his skin and you scratch lightly, not wanting to draw blood.

With a groan, he focuses on that spot and he loves the way your nails dig into his back. His cock twitches inside of you and he shifts his weight onto one arm so he can snake his hand between you. He rubs your clit with his thumb, eyes on you to see what you like.

“Oh fuck.” Your mouth drops open in a moan before you close your eyes and your body arches up to his touch. “So good, fuck, you’re so good.” You whine. “We- we should have been doing this from the beginning.”

Javier groans in agreement, “yes but I didn’t want - I wanted you to trust me.” He says, kissing your sternum, “only want you to trust me.” He murmurs, “and now I want you to cum for me.” He rubs your clit a little faster, needing to feel and hear you cum.

“Oh yes, yesssss.” You whimper, feeling your entire body start to tense for your coming orgasm. Knowing that it’s only going to be a few seconds before you come apart underneath him and your breath catches in your throat.

Javier groans as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him and he knows he’s already addicted to you. He fucking loves it. He loves making you feel this way. He rocks you through it until you relax beneath him then he pulls out. “Hands and knees, baby.” He orders, wanting to make you cum again.

You can't believe that he's not already cum. Most guys don't last longer than a few minutes and you've already cum. The fact that he's still going has you moaning even as he's guiding you onto your stomach and pulling you up to your knees. Looking over your shoulder, you grin. "Smack my ass." You order, wiggling it at him. "I did go through your room."

Javier chuckles, “you’re a naughty girl.” He rubs your ass cheek before his palm comes down on it, smacking you hard. You moan and his cock twitches. He grips his cock, positioning himself at your entrance when you lean forward to wiggle your ass. He’s not gentle this time when he pushes into you with a groan.

"Oh fuck!" You choke out when your entire body lurches forward at the thrust of his cock. Punching deep and filling you completely with one harsh thrust. "More." You moan as soon as you can draw another breath. "Fuck me, Javi."

He doesn’t deny you. Grabbing your hips, his nostrils flaring as he starts to fuck you hard. His fingers digging into your skin as he grinds him cock deep inside of you. “Feel good?” He asks, wanting to make sure you’re enjoying this.

"Godddddd yes." You moan when he pushes deep again. "So good." Your head drops down to hang between your shoulder blades and you move down to your elbows. Letting him get even deeper with ever thrust of his hips.

He caresses your back as you shift forward before he smacks your ass with both hands, squeezing the cheeks. His thumb pushes between your cheeks to press against the puckered hole, groaning at the way it flutters with each push inside of you. Christ, he’s fucking drunk on you. The way you feel around him.

"Oh my god." Your eyes flutter wide and then you relax into the sensation of him pushing against that other hole easily. If anyone would breach you there, you would let it be him. "Fuck, Javi, whatever you want, please, just don't stop."

Hearing you say that has him nearly cumming but he holds back, slowly down a little. He likes that you trust him so much. He bends over, letting his spit dribble down between your cheeks so he can press his thumb into your hips while his cock continues moving inside of you.

You whimper when his pace changes, slowing down and you feel. every throbbing vein in his cock scrubbing against your walls. "Oh fuck." You whine, trying to push your hips back, but he as you pinned with his body. "So good."

He loves hearing you moan like this. “You’re doing so well, hermosa. Want you to cum for me again. Want you to soak my cock again.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder as he leans over you. He’s slow but he wants you to feel all of him.

You grunt as he presses deeper. Feeling like he's pushed up into your throat at this angle. You choke out a moan and clench down around him. "I- just like that." You beg, loving how he's pushing deep.

He keeps the same pace and thrust, wanting to hear and feel you fall apart again. He groans softly when your walls clench around you he him as he pushes his thumb into your ass. “That’s it, baby girl. You gonna be good and cum for me?” He asks, voice raspy and deep with his own pleasure.

It shouldn’t affect you that bad. The way his voice dips down and his words twist in your stomach. “Yes.” You whine, tanging your fingers into the sheets. “Fuck, yes, I’m your good girl. I’m gonna cum.”

“Jesus.” He hisses at your words, his entire body vibrating with desire for you, and he pants as you grind back against him. “That’s it, hermosa. Thats it baby. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He pleads roughly and finally, you cry out. Your body shaking as you clamp down on his cock again and he thrusts into you, trying desperately to hold on but he pulls his thumb out and drags you up against his chest. His grunts in your ear as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you like a jackhammer as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

“Ja-Ja-Javiiiiiiiiiiii!” You squeal as he ramps up the pace, fucking into you roughly and you love it. Taking the harsh thrusts and knowing that the ache in your cunt will last beyond cleaning up. “Cum- cum in me.” You beg, even though you know he’s got a condom on. You still want to feel him fall over the edge. “Cum for me.”

He grunts, jaw clenched as his arm wraps around you and he squeezes your tit in his other hand. “Shit. Shit.” He pants as he thrusts fast and hard until he comes to a stop. A strangled groan escaping his lips as he pulses and fills the condom deep inside of you. His teeth sinking into your shoulder as he squeezes you close to his sweaty body.

The sharpness of his teeth make you clench around him again, milking his cock even more as you feel him ride out his high. “That’s it, baby.” You coo softly, turning your head and pressing your lips to his cheek.

He seeks out your lips, pressing his to yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth. His hands caressing your stomach down to your hips as you both take a second to enjoy your orgasms. He pecks your lips and lets go of you to reach down and grip the base of the condom before he slowly pulls out of you.

When he pulls out of you, your body melts into the bed. Slumping down and you huff out a chuckle as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”

He quickly ties off the condom and leans down to kiss along your back as you recover. “Damn right.” He chuckles softly and shuffles off of the bed. He grabs his jeans and pulls them on before he walks into the bathroom to grab a wet rag to clean you up and then he tosses that onto the side when he settles down on the bed, leaning against the mattress. He reaches into the nightstand to grab his smokes and he wastes no time in lighting one.

You turn to look at him, stealing the cigarette and taking a drag. “Are you ready to go back to your real life?” You ask him seriously. You know that if he’s undercover, he has to be under a lot of pressure.

Javier sighs as he exhales the smoke. “I don’t even know what my real life is. All I know is that I need to take down Escobar. Nothing else matters except that. And I gotta get you home.” He adds, raising his eyebrows at you before he takes the cigarette back to take another drag.

“That’s comforting.” You snort, swinging your leg over his thighs and straddling him. “You will take him down.” You predict softly. “and until I go home, I’ll make sure this apartment is very….relaxing for you.” You promise with a grin, leaning down and kisses him right after he inhales the smoke.

He smirks and playfully nips your chin, shifting to snub out his smoke in the ashtray on the nightstand. “Yeah? Gonna make sure I have a nice warm pussy for when I’m coming home all cold and lonely?” He asks, his hands coming up to caress your waist.

“You fuck me like that?” You huff, grinding down on him. “You’re damned right. Freshly shaved and dripping for you.”

Javier clicks his tongue, “not bothered about the shaving. I’m a man of the 70s, baby. I ain’t afraid to get down and dirty.” He smirks and slides his hands lower to squeeze your ass. “You enjoy it?” He asks, licking his lower lip as he leans back to look at you, wanting an honest answer. He hasn’t paid you to moan for him. He wants to make sure you enjoyed it.

"Loved it." You admit easily, smirking down at him and cradling his face so you can kiss him again. It's fucking astonishing to find a man who is as good as he is under these circumstances. You should be terrified of him touching you, but you can't wait until he is wrecking you again. "Want to do it again. When you can."

Javier chuckles softly, caressing your skin. “I’m not eighteen anymore, baby. Gimme a while. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you off in the meantime.” He smirks and slides his hand lower until he’s cupping your pussy. You whimper and he rubs your clit, “God, you’re still so wet.” He murmurs, shifting to push two fingers inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine, rocking onto his hand shamelessly. “You- you’re so fucking good at this.” You whimper, eyes sliding shut in pleasure. He’s not selfish and that makes you even wetter for him.

He smirks, loving the praise, and he curls his fingers deeper before pressing his thumb to your clit. “Take what you need baby. Ride my fingers.” He orders, loving the way your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut.

This man is so sexy. You don’t know why he’s not been snatched up, because he’s also a good man despite what he says. You moan his name quietly and roll your hips down onto his hand eagerly. Wanting to obey him.

He watches you take what you want from him. Your hips grinding down on his digits and he curls them as you rock down. “That’s it baby. Take what you need. Wanna watch you cum again for me.” He murmurs, his dark eyes flicking between you and your pussy, his digits glistening when you lift up. “You’re so wet.” He murmurs again, a tinge of awe in his voice.

“You’re so sexy.” You hum, ducking your head down and nipping his jaw as you continue to rock in his hand. “Sexy, chivalrous, fuck, you turn me on with how fucking good to me you’ve been. And you’re an agent? Even sexier.”

His heart pounds at your compliments and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. His tongue slides against yours as you grind down onto his fingers and his thumb presses harder against your clit. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” He murmurs against your lips, “gonna keep you safe.” He vows, “gonna make sure no one touches you except me.”

You whimper into his mouth when his tongue slides against yours once more. You believe him. If he says you will be safe, then he will protect you. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pour yourself into the kiss, wanting to make this good for him too and he seems to really like kissing.

His groan is muffled by your tongue and he isn't in a rush to make you cum. His cock is interested but he's still not fully hard. His free hand finds your breast, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as you eagerly kiss him.

Shuddering, you press yourself into his hand harder, needing more. He's completely focused on you and you don’t think anyone has ever done that for you. You nibble on his lip when you pull back slightly and moan again when he curls his fingers up.

"That's it, hermosa. Can feel how close you are. Need you to fall apart for me. Can you do that? Can you cum?" He asks, murmuring against your chin as he pushes his fingers deep, slow, hard thrusts into your weeping cunt.

“Yes.” Your gasp of pleasure is one that is purely anticipatory. Knowing that you are about to cum again, your body tensing as you move closer. “Gonna cum for you.”

"That's it. That's it." He murmurs as seconds later, you clamp down on his fingers. "Good girl. Good fucking girl." He groans, loving the way you practically soak his hand and his jeans as you shake against him.

You collapse against his chest and pant as you try to catch your breath. Your body is still quaking and his fingers are still moving, although slower than they were before. Turning your head, you kiss along his neck lazily.

He withdraws his fingers after a few moments, his wet fingers squeezing your ass as he rocks you on his hardening cock while you kiss along his neck. "Fuck baby. Want me to fuck you again? Want you to ride me." He confesses when you pull back to look at him.

“I’ll ride you.” You nod, reaching down and palming his cock through his jeans. “You have another condom?” You ask breathlessly. “Want you to sit right here and relax while I make you feel good.”

He nods, reaching over to grab a condom from the nightstand and he hands it to you. "I'm yours to do what you want, hermosa." He promises, a groan escaping his lips when you pull him out of his jeans and squeeze him.

He’s gorgeously  uncut and you can’t help but slide down his body so you can take the head of his cock into your mouth. Wanting him to experience your mouth before you ride him. He moans and your tongue presses against the sensitive slit.

“Jesus Christ.” He hisses as you take him into your mouth. “Baby. God. I- fuck.” He groans when your eyes flick up to meet his. He’s a sucker for eye contact. It’s so sexy. You are so sexy. His cock twitches in your mouth and he swears he has to take a deep breath to control himself.

You want to make it good for him. Keeping your mouth soft and sensuous as you work him slightly deeper. Keeping your eyes on him since he seems to like that a lot. Your moan of approval when you taste the salty pre-cum reverberates around him and your hand starts to slowly pump the base of his cock while you bob your head.

"Fuck." He pants, reaching down to caress your cheek, "you're so fucking beautiful." He murmurs, "so fucking beautiful." He can't deny that you make him feel so much more than any other woman he's slept with in years. That scares him honestly.

You hum, sucking on him lightly and pulling off with a pop. “You want to cum down my throat, or do you want me to ride you?” You ask breathlessly. “Your choice baby.”

“Ride me.” He says, voice rough with desire as you slowly pump his cock. You nod and let go of his length. He shifts back against the headboard while you grab the condom and straddle his thighs.

Ripping the foil open, you pull out the rubber and pinch the tip while you roll it down his thick length. Making sure it’s secure, you pump him again while you shuffle forward and line your cunt up to sink down on him. Quickly taking him into your body with a loud moan of his real name.

He groans your name as you sink down onto him, his fingers finding your hips as you moan as he stretches you out. “God, baby girl. You feel so good.” He grunts, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits as you settle onto him.

“You feel good.” You pant out breathlessly. Enjoying the hot hands on your tits as he pinches your nipples again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi.” You whine, leaning back and letting your head fall back between your shoulders. “You’re so deep like this.”

He groans, his eyes flicking down to look at where he’s disappearing inside of you. “Jesus Christ, baby. You’re so good. Look so good.” He says as you lean back and he slides his hand across your stomach until he’s pressing his thumb against your clit.

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimper, your cunt clenching around him when he starts to rub small circles in your bundle of nerves. “You know every trick in the book, don’t you?”

He chuckles darkly, “had a lot of practice. Lost my virginity when I was fourteen.” He confesses while rubbing your clit a little faster. “Also, wanna see you cum. Like seeing you cum. You’re so gorgeous.” He reveals, leaning in to gently kiss along your shoulder.

“Hard not to feel gorgeous when I have your attention.” You admit with a sigh, enjoying the slight tickle of his mustache. “You should have a dozen kids by now.”

He snorts, “I’m careful. Always keep it wrapped and I haven’t had any accidents. Haven’t had anyone come forward yet. Why? You volunteering?” He asks with a smirk.

You moan softly, clenching down even as you grin. “That would be a conversation to have, wouldn’t it? Asking how you go together and having to explain that you knocked up the woman a drug dealer gave you. But she wanted you to.”

“Hell of a story.” He agrees, “I definitely don’t think you should get pregnant right now. I would have to kill every fucker in this goddamn country to protect you.” He says with a hiss.

Your brow arches up in surprise, you had expected him to laugh off your comment. Instead you hum in agreement and lean in to kiss his lips. “Agreed. The condom stays on.” You squeeze him again and bounce a little harder on his cock.

He’s a little relieved but also a little disappointed. He doesn’t deny that the idea of seeing you pregnant is tempting but it’s irresponsible. Beyond imagination. He has to keep you safe and that includes all aspects of your physicality. He groans when you bounce harder again. “Christ, baby.” He murmurs, “so fucking good.”

You can barely push out a light chuckle, so breathless from how his cock is hitting inside you. Deep and thick, he presses against all the wonderful spots that make your body tense every time you slam back down on his lap.

“That’s it. You gonna make yourself cum on my cock like a good girl?” He asks, licking his thumb again to press it to your clit as your hands press against his chest for balance. “So beautiful riding my cock like a goddamn rodeo.” He pants, “seen less professional ones in Texas.” He jokes breathlessly

“Ohhhh fuck!” You moan, jerking slightly at the pressure. “Yeah? You’re a Texas boy?” You ask, wanting to know more about him.

"Born and raised. Laredo." He reveals and he groans, "fuck. I- I need you to cum for me again, sweetheart. You - you're so fucking tight." He hisses when your walls flutter around his cock.

You whine, nodding as your hands brace on his broad shoulders. Increasing your pace until you are practically galloping on him. Moaning out his name until that last roll of your hips and your entire body stiffens and you scream his name.

He groans when you clamp down on his cock, your body putting him in a vice grip that he struggles to move within but he shifts onto his knees, your legs around his waist as he thrusts up into you. "Fuck. I- I'm gonna cum." He warns, unable to withhold like he did last time when you're so fucking tight around him and you sucking him off before. "Mierda. I - fuckkkk." He hisses as he bites down on your shoulder

You moan softly when you feel him throbbing inside you. “Thank you.” You whisper, closing your eyes and holding him close. “Thank you for caring for me, protecting me, satisfying me.” You know that it’s crazy but you turn your head and kiss his neck. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Normally, Javier would be shit scared. He would've been running for the hills hearing those words but he can't run away from you. Especially when he feels the same way, it's terrifying. To have something - someone - to lose when he's fighting for his life in this undercover mission. One wrong move and he's dead. You're dead. It puts everything on the line but in this moment, he doesn't give a fuck. He pulls back from you to look you in the eye. "I feel the same. We shouldn't. So much at risk but fuck, I love you." He murmurs, voice rough with emotion.

You know that it’s probably the proximity, that once you leave, he will never think of you again, but you smile into his neck and sigh happily. Your fingers caressing his back gently. “Good.” You hum, basking in the moment and stealing every second of joy life will give you. “That’s good, baby.”

****

A few weeks go by and you're settled in a routine. You sleep in Javier's bed at night...well, try to sleep after he fucks you. Then you spend your days reading and waiting for Javier to return home. One day, he comes back and you greet him with a kiss but he doesn't seem enthusiastic. "What's wrong?" You ask and his dark eyes look sad as he holds up the passport in his hand. 

"Got your fake passport. You're booked on the first flight home in the morning." He says, swallowing harshly.

“Oh.” Your heart drops and you immediately have to look away from him, eyes watering. You don’t want to go, as crazy as that sounds. It’s dangerous and he’s undercover, so you can’t stay, but you don’t want to. “Well, I- I guess that tonight is our last night together.” You try to sound stoic but it falls flat. “You’ll be happy to not worry about me.”

Javier shakes his head, throwing the passport down on the table nearby and he grabs your waist to pull you into his chest. Burying his nose in your hair, he breathes you in. “Don’t want you to go. I want to stay here in this apartment with you and forget about the rest of the world but it’s dangerous here, hermosa. I can’t lose you and if something happened - fuck - no. You need to go. You need to be safe and I’m gonna try to take that bastard down.”

“You will take him down.” Javi has been opening up to you, finding it cathartic to have someone know that he’s not the monster that the men he is with are. Your arms hold him tight and you try not to cry. “You will, just like you kept me safe.”

He kisses your hair before he kisses your forehead. His nose nudges yours and he tilts your head up to press his lips to yours. He needs to know you’re safe. It’s more important than his love for you. He can love you from afar. He doesn’t want to love you from a grave site. He deepens the kiss, suddenly getting urgent with need for you as he pushes you up against the wall, his tongue sliding into your mouth.

You feel the change in the mood, from sad to desperate and you understand completely. If you are leaving, you want this time with him, you need it. The chances are that you will never see him again. Your hands move, desperately ripping open his button on the shirt he is wearing, scattering them across his apartment.

He groans into your mouth, practically devouring you, and he drags the dress you’re wearing up your body, reluctantly pulling back to pull it over your head and it’s soon on the floor. No words are spoken as he kisses your neck and cups your tits, glad you have taken to not wearing a bra in his apartment.

Your fingers push the stretched fabric of his shoulders and let it fall, attacking his belt next. He doesn’t wear underwear, so the second you can, you are wrapping your fingers around his cock and moaning when you find him already hard.

“Shit.” He hisses as you squeeze his cock and his fingers hook in your panties. He isn’t patient. He can’t wait to push them down so he’s ripping them from your body with a groan. “Fuck. Need you.” He rasps, grabbing your thighs to lift you up against the wall. “Put me in.” He orders, his cock throbbing in your grip.

You whimper his name, finding his need for you utterly intoxicating and you notch his cock against your entrance eagerly. Gasping when he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself to the hilt. No gentleness, just pure need.

He’s driven by desire, love, and desperation. He doesn’t want to lose you but he can’t be selfish. You deserve to feel safe and you need to go home. He can’t follow you and he can’t let everything he’s worked so hard for you down the drain. He groans your name and leans in to press his lips against yours as his body keeps you pressed against the wall until he starts to move his hips.

You whimper his name, clinging to him like he’s going to disappear if you let go. “I’m yours.” You promise raggedly against his lips. “All yours, make me yours.”

He loves the way you cling to him. He thrusts into you, desperate and sloppy but passionate. “Mine. Like I’m yours baby. Fuck. You’re mine.”

“Yes, yours all yours.” You pant, desperate for him to know it, to believe it. His hips slam into yours and drives you into the wall to make you moan at the roughness of it. “More, baby, I need more.”

Javi groans, his fingers digging into your thighs as he works you on his cock, lifting you up and down as he pushes you into the wall. “Fuck. Tell me what you need.” He demands, “rub your clit.”

“Just you.” You squeal breathlessly, reaching down and rubbing your clit. “Just need you. Just you baby, your cock is so good. So perfect inside me. I love you.”

“Oh fuck Javi, Javi, JAVIIIIIIIII!” You scream out in pleasure when your body locks up, core clenching down around him and soaking him with your cum. Shaking against the wall while he continues to pound into you and draw out your orgasm.

He swears his heart stops when you clamp down on his cock. “Fuck yes. That’s it baby. That’s fucking it.” He growls, loving the way you grip him and soak him and he pushes deep, “fuck. I- I gotta pull out.” He murmurs, remembering he didn’t put on a condom.

“Don’t.” You whimper, wanting to feel him just once. “I’m about to start my period.” You are, you aren’t lying to him. You should be completely safe for him to fill you up this once. “Want to feel you. Keep you with me.”

He doesn’t deny you. He groans as he thrusts hard, pushing deep inside of you a half dozen more times before he cums. He pants just before he bites down on your shoulder. “Fuck. I love you” is muffled into your skin.

Your eyes roll back and you whine at the feeling that is swimming around inside you. Enjoying the heat and wetness as he paints your walls with spurts of his hot cum. “Love you too.”

He kisses everywhere he can reach. Your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your chin, and finally your lips. “Te amo.” He chokes into your mouth, hating that he has to let you go. He’s terrified of you forgetting all about him. He loves you. He loves you more than he ever thought possible and he’s going to leave you.

“I love you too, Javi.” You can’t help but start to cry. They are silent tears, ones that just express how badly you want to stay with him. A far cry from the woman screaming to go home not so long ago. “I don’t want to eat. I just want to go to bed, baby.” You beg. “Take me to bed.”

He doesn’t pull out of you. Instead, he carries you into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. He’s gentle, caressing your body and he pulls out of you as he shifts to lay between your thighs. He stares at the mess he made looking at your entrance, cum threatening to drip out, and he can’t help it. He surges forward to slide his tongue between your folds.

Shuddering, you moan his name while your fingers run through his hair. You’ve learned that Javi has no problem with doing what he wants and he obviously wants to touch you like this, unconcerned with his cum between your thighs. “Fuck. I love you. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls back for a moment to say “I don’t want you to go but you have to.” He dives back in a few moments later, his tongue ravenous and carving indistinct paths while he tries to memorize every tiny detail about you.

Your moans fill the room, soft and sweet. He’s taking his time, not rushed a bit as if you have all the time in the world rather than just tonight. He reaches up and twines his fingers with yours, holding your hand as he continues to take you apart with his tongue.

He wants to burn your moans into his memory, carve your taste into his tongue, he needs to remember every single detail about you before he lets you go to return to safety. He’s slow and methodical as he pulls you apart stroke by stroke, uncaring of the salty taste of his cum combined with your tangy juices that make him go crazy.

You’re there forever, legs spread while he feasts. Time seems to suspend into nothing and your breath catches and never recovers. Making every moment drag out as your body burns and twists on itself until your orgasm snaps through you, sharp and bright, cunt gushing all over his face when he presses his thick fingers deep into your walls.

Javier groans into your clit, loving how you are clamping down on his digits. "Fuck baby. That's it." He murmurs into your flesh as you shake above him. He works you through, his fingers squelching with your combined cum.

Panting, you try to close your legs, overstimulated and nearly sobbing from the pleasure. He kisses your thigh and grins up at you. “Want another?” He asks and you shake your head. “I just want you.”

He snakes up your body, kissing every inch of skin he passes, until he is pressing his lips to yours. "I love you, hermosa." He murmurs, nudging his nose against yours as he settles beside you and pulls you into his side.

“I love you too.” You sigh softly, your hand splayed over his heart and you kiss his chest. “I know you won’t be able to call me, but I’ll be thinking about you. Hoping you’re safe. Praying you are.” You know he can’t promise you anything, this is just a flash in the pan for him, and he will go back to his normal life after he catches Escobar. “You’ve saved my life, Javier.”

He sighs, “I did what was right. I have fucked up a lot on my life but I couldn’t let you be abused or worse. You were something special from the moment I saw you. I’m just - all I ask is that when you get home, you’re happy. Be happy.” He pleads softly, wanting to know that this hasn’t all be in vain.

You want to tell him that you won’t be happy unless you are with him, but you can’t. Not when it’s not what he wants to hear. “I will, Javi.” Reaching up, you caress his cheek. “I can be happy because of you, amor.”

Javi’s dark eyes meet yours and he swallows harshly, “good.” He murmurs and brushes his lips against yours. All he wants is for you to be safe and happy…even if that isn’t with him. 

****

Javier glances around the airport, worried that a sicario or two have followed him. Steve is in the terminal with another agent to make sure he has back up just in case. Your passport was accepted without question and won’t be flagged by one of the informants for Escobar who works at the airport. He bites his lip as he sets your suitcase down at the gate. Your eyes are already watery and he fights the instinct to just take you back home but he can’t. You have to go.

“This is it.” You bite your lip, aware that you shouldn’t cry but you can’t even help it. You’re doing good not bawling your eyes out. Glancing around the airport, no one seems to be watching you, but you look back at Javi. “Can I kiss you?” You plead softly. “One more time? Or is it not safe?” The last thing you want to do is to put him in danger, but you can’t imagine boarding this plane without kissing him goodbye.

Javier can’t deny you. Hell, he can’t deny himself. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist to drag you against him. His lips immediately find yours and he groans into your mouth as he pours every thing he’s felt for you into this last kiss. He doesn’t care if anyone is watching. He needs to do this, he needs you to know how he feels.

It’s a goodbye kiss. A kiss that is desperate and yearning and bittersweet. The saltiness of your tears mixes with the whiskey and nicotine from Javi’s tongue. You hold him close and kiss him back just as desperately until you are unable to think about anything but him.

He isn’t sure how long he kisses you, but soon the tannoy announces that your flight is about to board. He pulls back, pecking your lips, and he leans back to look at you, his hands caressing your waist. “It’s time to go, baby.” He says, letting go of you and your hands clench in the air as if to keep holding him. His heart is pounding in his chest but he has to let you go. “Be good. Be happy.” He demands softly, kissing your forehead as your row is called.

Walking away from Javier is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. Looking back at him until you can’t see him anymore, you bite back a sob as you collapse into your seat. You’re free, but at what cost when you are separated from the man you love?

**** 

It’s been a year and Javier has no clue if you’ve moved on. Maybe you’ve found a new guy. You could be married. The thought makes his stomach twist but he’s here. He tracked you down using his contacts and he’s here to see if you still feel the same way. He does. The former Casanova of Bogotá has been celibate since you left, wanting to focus on taking down Escobar. He fucked up. Got involved with Los Pepes and got sent home before he could take down Escobar but he’s here and he doesn’t want to focus on his failure. He swallows harshly and takes a deep breath before he rings your doorbell.

You sigh as you hear the doorbell, looking over at the door and contemplating not answering but you can’t do that. Wiping your hands on the kitchen towel, you walk over to the door and flip the lock to open the door. Since you’ve been back, you’ve settled back into life with only a few hiccups. Memories of your time in Colombia are now bittersweet, the good far overshadowing the bad.

Javier shifts from one foot to the other as you open the door and he offers you a half smile. “Hola hermosa.” He says, fingers flexing as he prepares for your reaction.

Eyes wide, your mouth drops open in shock. You never expected to see Javier again. Not really. You had convinced yourself it was that Stock-ham, whatever, you had read about. That it was just a fling for him and that you had imagined yourself in love with him. One sentence, two words from the man, a year later would prove that was a lie. “Javi!”

He stares at you, heart pounding as he prepares himself for your reaction until you fling yourself forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his. He groans into your mouth, loving how you feel in his arms, pulling you so close you can barely breathe.

You don’t care that it’s been a year. That you haven’t heard from him and that you’ve wondered if he’s been dead or alive this entire time. Scouring the news for any information about Escobar and the entire ordeal down in Colombia.

He kisses you over and over until finally he pulls back and looks at you with love in his eyes. “You been good?” He asks and you nod, still speechless that he’s found you. “I, uh, I got sent home. Fucked up and got involved with the wrong people but I’m here and I- I still love you.”

“I can’t believe you are here.” When you find your tongue, you’re reaching out. Touching him in disbelief and for one horrible moment, you are convinced it’s a dream. “I’ve missed you. So much. You really still love me? It wasn’t just….circumstance?”

Javier reaches for your wrist, kissing your pulse. "I still love you. I haven't - I haven't been with anyone since you left. I fought hard to get Escobar so I could come home and find you." He admits, "I love you. I still love you."

“Oh baby.” You whimper quietly, melting against him. “I love you too. I never stopped, I couldn’t stop. You- you are the love of my life and I’m grateful Escobar gave me to you.”

Javier cups your cheeks and nudges his nose against yours. “I’m here baby. I’m here and I ain’t leaving. I love you.” He murmurs, closing his eyes as he breathes you in. 

**** 

“Fuck Jav.” You moan as your hips rock up to meet his mouth. It’s early, the sky just changing colors with the rising sun, and Javi woke up eager to have you. He’s been at your home ever since he got back from Colombia. He took you to Texas to go to Danny’s wedding and to meet his Pa. He even got his mom’s ring from his dad but you don’t know that yet. His fingers curl deep inside of you as he sucks on your clit and the phone starts to ring. “Shit.” You hiss, trying to push his head away but he pulls back to growl “leave it.” 

You pant, “it might be - fuck - important. It’s early.” You tell him but he ignores you, focusing again on making you cum. The phone rings again, “Javi.” You whine, hand reaching for the receiver but he slaps it down with his free hand, silently telling you to leave it again. His fingers push deeper and he can tell you’re close. His digits curl just right and you clamp down, crying out his name just as the phone rings again. He works you through it as much as he can before he’s pulling his soaked fingers out of you and grabbing the phone from the cradle. “Why the fuck are you calling so early?” He growls down the phone without asking who it is. 

“Agent Peña.” The official voice makes him sit up. “Yeah?” He asks, voice raspy. 

“The Cali Cartel. It’s time. You’re reassigned back to Colombia. I’ll call later with your flight details.” The line goes dead and he stares at it, unable to respond or say anything at all.

“What-“ you sit up and frown as he stares at the phone. “Baby, who was that?” You ask, worried that something is wrong. You know they’ve captured Escobar, Javi had gotten the news from Steve, getting drunk that night and pulling you apart for hours as fucked through his emotions.

Javier swallows, setting the phone back down and he closes his eyes for a second, unable to look at you. “I’ve been reassigned. They want me back in Colombia to take down Cali.” He reveals, his heart aching.

You hear it in his tone, he wants to go. “Oh.” Pulling the sheet over your body, you sit up, watching him start to pull away from you. “Then you have to go.” You decide, pushing away your own heartache. “They are giving you a second chance, to do it right this time. You have to go.”

Javier is torn. He wants to do it right. Take down Cali the right way and redeem himself. Yet he also doesn’t want to lose you. “I- I don’t know.” He confesses, knowing you won’t wait for him again. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Javi.” You cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. “You go to Colombia and you do what you need to do.” You tell him softly. “You want to go….so go.”

“I don’t want - I can’t leave you. I don’t want to be gone and come back to find you’ve moved on. I know we love each other but I can’t ask for you to wait for me again. I want…I want you to come with me.” He says, even though he knows the risks. He can protect you.

“W-What? Come- come with you?” You hadn’t even considered it a possibility. “The DEA would let you bring me? How?” You can’t imagine they would want to have some random civilian in the country and possibly in danger.

He nods, "Steve brought Connie. She - she was a civilian." He explains, "I don't want to lose you." He confesses, "Do you want to come with me?"

“Connie’s Steve’s wife.” You remind Javi softly. “Of course I want to come with you, but I don’t think the DEA will let you bring your girlfriend.” You admit. “You aren’t going to lose me.”

He swallows harshly, knowing you’re not wrong. “They might not let me bring my girlfriend but they’d let me bring my fiancée.” He says and you frown, “fiancée?” He sighs, opening the bedside table to grab the velvet box he had hidden in there. “I was going to take you to dinner on Friday. Make it romantic but - but I don’t want to wait.” He confesses and your eyes widen. He shifts to kneel at the edge of the bed in front of you. “You came into my life so unexpectedly and I- I don’t regret saving you from Escobar. You were the missing piece of me that I didn’t know was gone. You make me so damn happy and I know I’m bad with words but I love you with every fiber of my being. I’d do anything to keep you safe, to make you happy. Will you marry me?” He asks, opening the box.

“Jav- I-“ your throat closes as your eyes fill with tears, looking down at your love on his knee as he asks you to marry him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I will marry you.” Launching yourself forward, you crash into him, needing to kiss him once more to remind you that this isn’t a dream.

He kisses with a smile on his lips, pouring every ounce of love he feels for you into the kiss. He pulls back after a second to get the ring out of the box. He remembers proposing to Lori and he didn’t really feel much at the time, doing it out of obligation. Right now, he’s asking you to marry him because he loves you with all of him. He takes the ring out and takes your shaking hand, sliding the ring onto your left hand.

“It’s beautiful, amor.” You gasp, looking down at the ring in awe. It really is beautiful, but beyond that, it’s the realization that Javi wants to spend the rest of his life with you. “I love it and I love you.” You promise, leaning in to kiss him again. “My fiancé.”

**** 

Javier looks out across the ocean, the sun is about to set and he clears his throat as the breeze makes the linen shirt he’s wearing blow up slightly. “She’s here.” The officiant announces and Javier exhales shakily, turning away from the water to see an even more exquisite sight. 

God, you take his breath away. Walking towards him wearing a white sundress, he swears his heart is about to pound out of his chest. When you stand before him, he reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “You look gorgeous, baby.” He murmurs when he stands up straight but keeps your hand in his.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.” You admit, amazed by the beautiful, small wedding he had insisted on. It was gorgeously simple and yet the pinks and oranges streaking across the sky is something that could have never been replicated in a fancy church somewhere. “I love you so much.”

Javier smiles, “I love you too.” He takes your hands as you stand beside him and the officiant begins the ceremony. His stomach is twisting but not with nerves, it’s butterflies and excitement. Knowing that after this, you’ll be his wife. He never imagined he’d settle down but you changed that for him. He can’t imagine a day without you now. He squeezes your hands when you recite the vows and he proudly declares “I do” when asked if he wants to take you as his wife. The rest of the ceremony seems like a blur until the officiant says “you may now kiss the bride.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours, your rings shining on your finger as the sun disappears beyond the horizon. “I love you.” He murmurs into your mouth before he kisses you again.

Smiling against his lips, you sigh softly. “I love you too.” You never expected to find the love of your life when you had been kidnapped and given to one of the world’s most famous drug dealers in the world’s sicarios. It could have turned out to be your worst nightmare, but it ended up being your dream come true.

[perotovar]

limits — a minotaur!joel fic

pairing: minotaur!joel miller x m!oc/reader (unnamed and undescribed) rating: E (18+ mdni) word count: 2.2k content: au, porn with a little plot (but not really), monster fucking, joel is a literal bull-man, he doesn't speak but he understands humans, hentai logic/physics, don't think too hard about how this works physically, unprotected p in a, so much cum (like, a lot), breeding kink, aftercare, tiny bit of dubcon (if you squint), size kink, omegaverse dynamics/rules dividers: by @/saradika-graphics beta: @kedsandtubesocks (ily omg)

summary: so like, imagine a world where bulls evolved to be bi-pedal and can mate with humans, but it's not a common practice. don't think too hard about it, just imagine you're a new farm hand/stable boy and caught the attention of one of those bulls, okay?

written as a part of @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett 's Monster (S)mash challenge (so sorry for how late this is forgive meeee)

“Seein’ as it’s your first day, kid, I should warn ya,” the farmer started, resting an elbow on a bent knee, his foot resting on the fence in front of them. “This time’a year the bulls get a bit… restless.”

The young man blinked, cheeks heating up as he listened. “B-but aren’t they more focused on the cows?”

The farmer laughed, chewing on his tobacco as he watched the cows roam. “Well, sure, but they don’t seem to care much when they get like this. Just gotta put yer foot down and they’ll leave ya be, promise.”

The boy nodded and swallowed around a lump in his throat. He needed this job something fierce so a few horny bulls weren’t going to keep him from that. 

“Help me get that hay to the horses, wouldja?”

“Yes, sir.”

Wiping sweat from his brow, the young man smiled down at the work he’d accomplished. He looked to his left and saw the large bull pen. He’d been working on the farm as a hand for a little over a week now and had successfully avoided any unwanted attention so far.

He’d been learning all the animal’s names as well as their personalities and temperaments. Maggie was a lovely cow, a bit of a loner, but sweet as can be. Rex was easily the meanest of all the bulls, and he had to be taken away from the cows pretty often. 

But, Joel, well. He was easily the biggest of all the bulls. He was another loner, but in a distinctly different way than Maggie was. He stood at an imposing 9ft tall (horns not included) and had dark, curly fur that covered his whole body. His torso was barrel-shaped and as tough as any leather. 

The young man didn’t have much experience working with Joel, that was left to a select few employees on the ranch. Joel didn’t trust many people and whenever breeding season came around, he had to be taken to a secluded area. “Gets downright ravenous, that one,” the farmer had said. “Gotta cycle out the cows so they don’t get too tired.”

The boy had bit his lip in thought when he heard that. According to another hand on the farm, Joel had been the oldest of all the bulls and that was why he got the special treatment. He was the farmer’s favorite, but they didn’t understand why. He was grumpy and stubborn. 

The young man wasn’t surprised to hear that, to be honest. The older a bull got, the more ornery they were. That was just the way of things.

“Hey, kid, I’m gonna needja to take care of Joel’s pen for him.”

The young man looked up from his raking and shielded his eyes from the sun. “Oh. Are ya sure?”

“‘Course,” the farmer chuckled. “He’s out back gettin’ a bath, so he’ll need a clean pen to get back to.”

The boy nodded and gulped. “O’course, sir.” The farmer saluted in thanks before taking off to do his own chores. 

Exhaling a heavy breath, the young man grabbed a metal bucket, his rake, and some cleaning supplies before heading in the direction of Joel’s pen.

No one would have blamed him for thinking Joel’s pen would look like a tornado blew through, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.

It was clear where a lot of the rut had been taking place, with a decently sized pile of hay in the corner, but the whole place… reeked. It was musky and heady and thick. The young man wished he’d grabbed some sort of face mask before entering. He’ll probably have to wash his clothes a few times to get the stink out.

“Fuck it,” he whispered to himself, and got to work. There was so much of… Joel everywhere. He hadn’t been around Joel enough to personally know him, but this felt like an invasion of privacy. It looked like any other pen, with a large metal sliding door and roof, but it was clear Joel had marked his territory so no other bull would be caught dead in there.

“Hey, newbie!” Lynn, another hand, greeted cheerfully. Behind her, a large, imposing (and freshly bathed) Joel entered the pen. His big barrel chest heaved heavy breaths, deep eyes locked onto the boy. “Thanks for takin’ care o’ Joel’s pen for ‘im. I’m gonna go find a nice girl for ‘im, I’ll be right back!” She was gone before the young man could respond.

Joel walked closer towards the pile of hay, large snout smelling if things were where they should be. He grunted in approval when he realized his smell was still there. 

The young man watched before putting away his cleaning supplies. He stood frozen to the spot, Joel’s intense eyes making it hard to turn his back and leave. 

“U-um, I’ll just–” The young man pointed his thumb in the direction of the door to leave, but Joel gripped onto his overalls, stopping him in his tracks. “What are you–?”

Joel lifted him high off his feet and planted the young man’s crotch onto his snout. 

“J-Joel! What are you doing?!” He screeched, cheeks burning in embarrassment. Joel ignored him and inhaled the scent deeply, before exhaling a low, very pleased groan. “I’m–! I’m not a cow, I’m not what you want!”

Joel froze and looked the young man deep in the eyes, challenging him. Who was he to know what Joel wanted?

“Um, p-please put me down?” The boy stammered. Just then, his cock stirred in his overalls, betraying him. A twinkle appeared in Joel’s large, dark eye.

Before he knew it, Joel had him bent over a bale of hay with his legs kicked apart. Joel towered over him with a massive paw of a hand keeping his chest pressed to the hay. 

“Joel, please,” he whimpered, his body trembling in fear and… perhaps arousal, he really wasn’t sure. 

Joel huffed in response, asking what he wanted.

“I don’t– Wouldn’t you prefer a cow over… over me?”

Joel grumbled above him and ripped his overalls down his legs, pressing his large, very hard and leaking cock against the young man’s ass. He rolled his strong hips and groaned in response. Joel’s belly rested on top of the young man’s lower back, so he felt every heavy breath he exhaled. 

“I-I guess that answers that question…” He sighed. He hid his face in his arms and whined weakly. “Fine, just… Just do it, okay?”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned over the young man’s body and lifted his t-shirt, teasing his nipples. A large, thick tongue started probing at the young man’s earlobe, making him shiver in response.

“Oh,” he moaned, his own dick twitching to life between his legs. One of Joel’s large hands moved down to his ass to spread his cheeks and assess what he had to work with. Joel grunted appreciatively and started rubbing the boy’s hole in preparation.

A large glob of spit landed on the sensitive skin, easing the way for Joel’s thumb to pierce through. “Oh, fuck,” the boy gasped, his hips bucking involuntarily.

Joel hummed to himself and gripped his cock in his free hand. He started stroking it slowly before slapping the head against the young man’s cheek, giving him an idea of the size.

“Fuck, is… Is that thing gonna fit?”

Joel snorted before slowly pressing the head inside. It felt like the young man’s entire body was set on fire. He couldn’t feel his own legs beneath him, but he felt the pulsing of his cock throbbing between them. All the air left his lungs at once as Joel’s cock entered him further.

Joel stopped once a large thick ridge toward the base kissed the edge of the boy’s rim. He felt lightheaded, his eyes barely staying open as he adjusted to the full length of Joel’s cock.

“O-oh my god, I’m…” The young man trembled, voice pitched up an octave. “Am I dying?”

Joel made a low noise in his chest and leaned over to kiss and lick along the young man’s neck and ear. He was… comforting him, letting him take his time. Joel mooed quietly, almost like he was cooing words of praise to the boy. It made him feel like he could breathe again.

The young man rested his head on the bale of hay and tried to look back at Joel. “Okay, I’m… I think I’m okay,” he smiled sheepishly. “Go ahead, Joel.”

Before Joel started moving, one of his hands moved underneath them and covered the young man’s belly. He felt his cock through the skin, bulging through easily. He groaned in appreciation before adjusting his stance. The young man’s feet were hanging high off the floor of the pen like a ragdoll, his overalls still attached messily around his ankles.

Suddenly, as if someone had whistled for Joel to get started, he fucked hard and deep into the boy. The loud, almost comical sound of his heavy balls slapping against the young man’s tender flesh made him go dizzy. 

Joel gripped onto his narrow hips and set a punishing pace, rutting into him. He breathed heavily and grunted above the boy, sounding far away. 

The young man’s entire body moved back and forth against the hay bale, the scratchy feeling keeping him grounded as he ascended into another plane of existence. He had no idea being stretched so much and fucked so deep could feel so good. He didn’t want this to end. 

Just then, Joel decided he didn’t want that position anymore and lifted the young man into the air so his back was pressed to Joel’s barrel chest. The boy moaned loudly, resting his head on Joel’s broad shoulder.

Joel grunted and started using the boy’s body as if he were a fleshlight, lifting and lowering him at a punishing pace. The amount of precome leaking out of the boy’s hole and around Joel’s cock covered their bodies entirely. 

“I’m– I’m not going to last long, Joel,” the young man gasped, breath hitching with each powerful thrust. His eyes rolled back as Joel’s cock pummeled against his prostate, making him tremble weakly. The boy’s cock slapped lewdly against his lower stomach, precome splattering everywhere.

The boy’s stomach bulged with Joel’s cock, stretching the skin past its limits. He looked down to watch, mesmerized by the sight. How Joel’s cock fit inside him, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to question it.

Joel groaned deeply, picking up the pace of his thrusts. He must be getting close. 

“C’mon,” the young man whined, turning his head to look at Joel’s face. “Come inside me.”

Joel pushed him back down onto the bale of hay and pushed his cock even further inside. The ridge near the base of Joel’s cock made the boy gasp weakly, gripping onto the hay beneath to ground himself. 

Each smack of Joel’s hips against his ass had him letting out weak noises he didn’t even know he could make. Joel’s horns pierced into the hay as he rested his forehead against the boy’s back.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the young man chanted. “C’mon, Joel, please,” he whimpered.

If he could see him, he was certain steam left Joel’s snout as he panted and grunted behind him. Joel made a low groan before slamming one last time against the boy’s prostate and came like a geyser inside him. 

The boy gasped as he was filled up, coming untouched as he felt Joel’s cock pump inside like a hose. He trembled beneath the bull’s body, screaming into the hay. 

Joel exhaled heavily, hands gripped onto the boy’s hips tightly. He moved them slightly and noticed that they’d probably bruise soon. He hummed and leaned over to kiss and lick along the young man’s neck again, this time as an apology. He slowly pulled out and watched as his come poured out lewdly.

The boy panted hard, his body feeling more empty than it ever had in his life. His stomach felt full, though, which made him look down to see. Joel had well and truly filled him, it seemed. He couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving his body, his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. 

Joel climbed onto the bale of hay with him and held the boy close, spooning him comfortingly. He turned the young man’s face and kissed and licked his tears away, mooing praises into his ear. The boy felt like his heart would burst from the tender act and silently cursed whoever called Joel grumpy and mean. 

“That was…” He giggled, breathing heavily. “I hope you got what you were looking for.”

Joel grunted in affirmation and held the boy close, one large hand holding his full belly. It dawned on him then that Joel probably thought that he’d just bred the boy. 

He didn’t have the heart to tell him it wouldn’t take.

“Sir, I had somethin’ to tell ya,” the boy said the next day, running up to the farmer with a bit more pep in his step. 

“What’s that, kid?” The farmer grinned, chewing more tobacco.

“Just wanted to let ya know that I think I cracked ol’ Joel. Think he likes me!”

“No kiddin’? Well, shit, I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth! If you’re thinkin’ he won’t mind, you’re welcome to take care o’ his pen for the rest of breedin’ season, then.”

The boy couldn’t stop the wide grin from growing on his face.

[russo-woso]

heeeey, can you write a fic where r is the stress release after a bad game from leah ? where she just wants to rail r to forget the game and r is so submissive that she gave leah her body for her pleasure ? r is her little sex toy 😏

Release || Leah Williamson

Warning smut 18+, cunnilingus, strap-on, ‘slut’ usage, choking, squirting, bit of a praise kink.

Summary You help Leah release her stress

“Le, please, do whatever you what to me. Get your anger out.” You tell her, calmly as Leah’s eyes grew darker and darker.

“Strip and get on the bed.” Leah commanded, obeying her request as soon as it left her mouth.

You took off all your clothes before laying on the bed waiting for Leah.

Leah had her favourite strap to use around her waist as she stared, hungrily, at you.

She climbed on to the bed, latching her mouth onto your neck and worked her way down.

“You gonna be a good girl, aren’t you?” Leah asked and you nodded, withholding a moan as she sucked your nipple. “Whose good girl are you going to be?”

“Yours.” You managed to get out, her face traveling more down your body.

“Whose cock are you going to cum around?”

“Yours, Leah. I’m your good girl. I’m all yours.” You let out moans in between your words, encouraging Leah to speed up her work so she could fuck you.

Leah’s lips and trailed down your body quickly compared to normal, her mouth now in line with your already wet pussy.

Leah threw her face into your core, her tongue swiping over every part of it.

Your body squirmed under her touch, the sudden contact overwhelming for you, but you had to do this. You had to do this for Leah.

With a mix of Leah sucking on your clit, and sticking her tongue into your core, it wasn’t long before the coil in your stomach appeared.

“Le, I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum.” You begged and she hummed into your pussy, the vibrations allowing you to fall of the edge.

Your head slammed itself against the pillows, your eyes slamming shut.

Before you could calm down from your orgasm, Leah had stuck the tip of the strap into you.

You bucked your hips and whined at the sensitivity but Leah didn’t care.

She had one thought in her mind, and that was to fuck you until she forgot about the game.

Leah rested both her hands on the bed next to you, her muscles flexing as she did.

She watched your face as she pushed into you, smirking as she saw your face scrunch up before a look of pleasure appeared on it.

Leah’s hands moved to your hips, grabbing ahold of them before thrusting into you.

“You’re being such a good girl for me.” Leah praised as moans left your mouth in a steady rhythm. “Taking all of me just to get my anger out.”

Leah increased her speed which increased the volume of your moans.

“Fuck… Le, ‘m close.” You told her, hoping that she’d let you cum and ride out your high.

“You’re gonna cum all over my cock, understood? You’re gonna be a good little slut for me.” Leah said, and you nodded, your orgasm taking over.

As the pleasure took over your body, you realised that it started to slip away quickly.

Leah had allowed you to cum, but she showed no sign of stopping her movements.

Overstimulated, you whined as the strap continued to be thrusted in and out of you.

“Le, I’m too…” You began but Leah’s hand wrapped around your neck, restricting your speech.

Your whines started to turn to moans as the overstimulation began to disappear.

“Give me one more, pretty girl. One more.” Leah commanded, her hips still showing no signs of stopping.

You listened to Leah, your orgasm approaching.

With a final moan of her name, you let go, squirting all over the strap and her thighs.

“Im that good that I have you squirting now?” She asked, a cocky grin on her face, as she pulled out of you, watching your pussy conch around nothing. “Would you like a shower, darling?”

“Le, I don’t think I can walk.” You admitted, a worried look appearing on her face as guilt washed over her, realising exactly just how hard she had been on you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry that I was too hard on you, I’m sorry I made us lose the game, I’m sorry I pushed you.” Leah apologised, leaning down to press kisses on your face.

“I’m just glad I could help, le.”

“You were a big help, pretty girl. Thank you.”

Requests are open :)

[concreteangel92]

Be Careful What You Wish For

Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: Cum play, mentions of spanking, dom/sub relationship, slight humiliation kink and degradation kink (not too heavy) male masturbation, just Noah being a typical brat tamer

So this is kinda filthy even for me ahaha but it’s not massively detailed as it’s a head canon styled piece but I am working on proper detailed works as we speak so hopefully I will get those out soon.

This actually started as an idea from the other fic I’m writing but it didn’t fit into that scene properly so I decided to make it a separate piece so the thought wasn’t wasted haha and fyi the story I’m currently writing has definitely been inspired by the new tour content, that’s absolutely feeding me right now 🥵

Masterlist

•You’ve been playing up all day and winding Noah up in front of people when he’s been working

•Just genuinely being a brat because you found it funny that day

•That’s fine but Noah would 100% punish you for it when you’re alone

•You’d be face down on the counter, underwear round your ankles while counting each spank he delivers

•But what’s one more dig?

•”That the best punishment you got? I’m getting bored of it now”

•Those spanks would instantly stop

•”Is that so?”

•Oh yeah, he’s pissed now

•You’d feel Noah’s grip on your hip tighten and hear the sounds of his trousers hitting the ground

•”Spread your legs”

•Noah would have a deeper growl in his voice, clearly not impressed with your attitude, but that’s ok, he’s happy to take it up a notch just teach you a lesson

•You’d feel his fingers scissor you open with a dark chuckle “bored are we? Do you want to tell that to your dripping cunt”

•That would most definitely pull a low moan from you, now Noah loves dirty talk, but to be that vulgar is very rare, even for him

•You could feel movement behind you and hear the sounds of him groaning and skin slapping on skin

•”So my punishments aren’t good enough eh?…” You could hear his words get caught in his throat, you knew he was touching himself behind you, his other hand now not leaving your hip

•”Well lucky for you…shit….I’ve got the perfect punishment for your cocky little attitude”

•You’d keep your head on the counter, pussy aching to be touched but you know that’s not going to happen any time soon

•“Did I forget to mention….that the guys will be here…any….any minute for the afternoon?”

•Noah hadn’t mentioned that they were all coming round for a gaming afternoon, you suddenly felt a sense of fear at what he had planned

•Noah’s groans became louder as he sped up his pace, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer

•”fuck..I’m gonna cum”

•You’d feel him release onto your heated core, Noah would quickly bring your underwear back up and press the material into your folds, making sure not to let any of his juices slip out down your thighs

•You’re eyes would go wide, a choked moan escaping your lips as you now knew what his punishment was, it felt so wrong and dirty but fuck me were you turned on

•You’d hear Noah fix his clothes and then he’d grab you by your throat, bringing your back onto his chest so he could talk into your ear

•”let’s see how cocky you are walking round with my cum in your pants, and don’t think you can run away and hide baby. You’re going to sit with us until I say otherwise, is that clear?”

•”I’m in a dress, what if it…slips out?”

•You’d receive a hard smack to your ass and then Noah turned you around so he could stare down at you

•”You should have thought about that before you decided to be a brat and telling me that my punishments are boring”

•Noah grips your chin and gives you a hard kiss

•”Be careful what you wish for baby”

•That’s the moment you’d both hear keys in the door and the guys walking in with pizza boxes, Noah pulling your dress back into place and stepping away from you

•You’d do your best to walk normally and act all innocent when everyone started chatting, trying to sit without anything ‘leaking’

•Your cheeks would have a permanent blush for the afternoon

•All the while, that cocky smirk never left Noah’s lips as he stalked your every move

[blackknight-kai]

Just Busty things:

This is a Drabble about that hot as fuck way too detailed bust. You know the one 🫵.

(Edit: I am writing this fic 👀)

The “life size” bust of Sun Wukong from the video game attracts his dormant spirit- you bought it / go a hold of it. (Somehow you have it!)

You’d activated his spirit because like a weirdo you kissed the damn thing once - just for fun. You couldn’t help it and giggled to yourself as you did it because “haha I kissed Sun Wukong”. (You’ve been into Sun Wukong so your attraction and ‘want’ magically do something here).

After doing so you don’t notice as its glass eyes follow you as you walk around your living room. (Ngl I was thinking a bit of a horror scene for this so…idk if Wukong is ‘good’ or ‘yandere’ here up to you).

He knows you don’t notice and makes sure to look normal if you happen to look at him. Over time he gets to know you through those glass eyes watching you, those ears listening as you talk to your friends on the phone or mumble to yourself. Starts to fall for you (because duh). You walk around naked or with little clothes on in front of him - he’s a bust and you live alone.

You kiss him a few more times- surprising the ever loving shit out of him because, why are you giving a bust chaste kisses????? Each time bringing him more and more to life / animating his face.

Which you don’t realize is happening because giving his bust a goodbye kiss or I’m home kiss has now become habit. Good night/morning kisses too! Because whos gonna know? You even pet the fur on the side of his face and sigh, tell him how handsome he is or sometimes you talk to him like you’re talking to someone else. You aren’t crazy, just talking through your own problems or issues and you know the bust isn’t gonna answer- it’s like talking to a house pet. Even call him your “boyfriend” jokingly or tell your friends “I miss my husband” as a joke when you’re out with them.

What you don’t know is the more you treat that bust like it’s a real thing (joking or not) and bestow your feelings on it, Wukong’s spirit is able to start manipulating it and manifesting it to come to life, eventually while you are gone for the day he’s able to magic up the rest of his body. He doesn’t reveal himself right away, no. He fiddles with the stuff in your home and learns things about you / this world while you are out. If you notice things out of place, you DONT. Because you do not want to think your house is haunted.

You’re in for a surprise. 😈

(There are so many ways he could reveal himself, while you kiss him he kisses you back, waiting for you on the couch in his full animated now REAL body, crawls in bed with you one night - this one is a darker thought so…moving on, talks back to you when you tell his ‘bust’ about your day, just so many things his mischievous ass could do.)

[julietsbody]

ultraviolence

words : 2,261

tags : gun kink , fucked with a gun , predator / prey , reader has a prey kink , peacekeeper ! snow , light sadism , size difference , size kink , obsessive behavior , power play , creampies , orgasm delay / denial

a/n : idk what came over me whilst writing this im gonna be so honest…. semi inspired by Cherienymphe‘s “everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer” fic!!! its so good

p.s : this is also posted on my ao3!!! ( divider by pommecita )

snow barely had any empathy for people, let alone any districts. he was a man who fell into poverty himself, but he got out of it, he was a capitol and he’s friends with those that come from the highest statuses. normally people felt pity for those in the districts, they scavenged for food, or proper clothing. not snow, he thought it was a game to watch them snatch up fresh bread and run like their lives depend on it. because it does, they survive, they live another day and satisfy their hungers, if they get caught, they’ll be dead in seconds— especially if coriolanus catches them. 

he liked the power he had, the fact that he could do almost anything he desired and get away with it because the districts had been committing a crime anyway, he just stopped them from doing it any more. he liked that they would cower underneath him, beg for their lives, he liked that he had the power to give them a simple warning, to let them off the hook, but he never did. 

not until now. 

he found himself chasing yet another bunny, heavy boots padding behind your thin, poorly made shoes. 

something about the adrenaline rushing through your veins had a heat developing in between your legs, like it was a primal reaction, an animalistic urge. he nearly noticed in the way your steps staggered, but that could be lack of spacial awareness, which he noted that you had. you were so busy running in straight lines you didn’t even bother to juke him or to hide. 

easy prey, aren’t you? 

he thought that at first, until your steps suddenly changed, turning to the right. 

and you had disappeared between the greens and tall trees, his wild eyes raced around the all too silent forest. he tuts, a low taunt, “where are you, bunny?” 

his voice came out sing - songy, having your breathing shake from the tree you hid behind, your thighs pressed together. 

how was a hunt so intimate, so sexual? 

“why are you hiding from me, bunny?” his voice is softer, as if he’s pouting. 

you hear his boots snap twigs with ease, crush leaves into fragile pieces, dip through mud. he was getting closer, like a wolf stalking it’s prey, like he knew where you hid. you tried to hold your breath, to keep yourself hidden, but it was no use. he rounded the corner, and you ran into a sprint again, nearly dropping the bread you had taken. 

if you hadn’t dropped it then, you were sure to now. 

his arms took you into a threatening hold, at first pushing you into a tree, then slamming you against the floor when you wriggled at his grasp. his panting breath, your fearful whines, the begging that sat on your tongue silently, it was as if sex had been happening even with your clothes on. your tears well with tears at being slammed on the hard ground, and he feels the fabric of his pants tighten at the sight. 

“please,” here comes the begging, music to his ears, “it’s my first time stealing, i’ve never done this before—“ 

“is that so?” his head cocks to the side, holding down your wriggling hands, “i’m sure i’ve seen you before, doll.” 

“you must be mistaken,” your puffy lips part, breath heaving as you try to pull away from him. 

it doesn’t work, he just simply holds you down, he easily could with one hand if he wanted to, “are you calling me a liar?” 

it was embarrassing, truly, being so turned on by the way his voice deepened with firmness, by the way he held you down with such ease, “of course not, i would never—“ 

“you just did, though,” his tone is biting, typically he doesn’t let conversations last this long, but something about you was different. his eyes catch on to the way your thighs are rubbing together, not in a way to try to free yourself from him, but where you crave friction. “my, my, what do we have here?” 

his hand taps against your thigh, pulling up the hem of your dress, his eyes land on yours, waiting for confirmation. 

you immediately nod, it’s so quick, impatient, he adores it. 

his long fingers lace around both of your wrists whilst the other pries your thighs apart, noticing the way fluids soil your panties. 

“how cute,” he observes out loud, allowing his hunger to show in the way he nearly rips your panties apart whilst harshly tugging the, down, watching how your legs immediately fall apart into a spread, panties hanging off your ankle for dear life. you were so desperate, you were willing to do this in the woods, present yourself to a peacekeeper just because you had gotten horny merely off a chase. 

his hand smoothes against your right inner thigh, feeling goosebumps form in prickles, and the way you shiver underneath each touch. his hand is large against your cunt, a single finger moving through it to feel the wetness, your hips immediately buck, desperate for more. 

his chuckle is soon silenced by his hand raising to his mouth, just so he can taste your slick. 

removing it with a pop, a curt smile tugs at his lips, sweet, like honey. 

his hand smoothes down your inner thigh again, and you realize he’s teasing you, “officer—“

his thumb is threateningly close to your cunt, “hm?” 

“touch me,” you breathe out, “please.” 

how funny is it that the last time you said please to him you were begging for your life? 

“like this?” his eyebrow quirks, pad of his thumb moving to swipe against your clit, your back arches ever so slightly. 

the whine that emits from you is far too loud for his liking, so he hushes you with gentle shhs, thumb rubbing slow circles on the bundle of nerves. 

“you don’t want people to hear us, hm?” he hums, “to find out you’re letting a peacekeeper touch you in such ways, truly scandalous.” 

he can imagine it being front page of the district newspaper, girl caught fucking peacekeeper in woods! 

your fingers twitch in his grasp, finding his movements far too slow, and he finds your movements and whines far too annoying. 

he moves to plunge a finger into your cunt, making your whines hush to whimpers, unintelligible words. 

“real impatient, aren’t you?” his finger moves slow at first, watching the way your hips move against it in response, “maybe i should just put you in your place.” 

he removes his finger, watching the way you desperately clench around nothing. his hand moves to grab his machine gun, which he had ditched as soon as he threw you to the floor, he finally releases your wrists, you have a chance to run if you wanted to, but you didn’t— because you didn’t want to run, because the fear that filled you when he aimed his gun at you had even more of your fluids escaping the oyster between your legs. 

he moves to cock it, taking it off the safety. 

“fully loaded,” he reminds you, but also seems to be reminding himself. 

he seems to believe you don’t believe him in the way you look up at him through glossy eyes, and he moves to aim his gun at a nearby tree, one to your right, directly behind you. and he shot, birds cawed as they flew away from the loud shots, he noticed how you flinched, immediately moving to the safety of his grasp, and he only smiled, how adorable that you find safety in the man who had enough power to kill you in seconds. 

he hushes your fears, not reassuring anything about your safety as he moves the gun tip your legs back apart, one of his hands leaving it as he wraps it around your wrists once more, holding you back down in a missionary position. the hand on his gun was less steady now, finger tight against the trigger, it had you biting your lip. he traces along your inner thigh with the tip of the gun, “you’re gonna be a good girl, right?” 

he watches you immediately nod, so eager, “yes, yes, officer.” 

his gun passes a trail down to your cunt, pressing against your clit, he could shoot right now, the finger on the trigger was so tight, so unsupported. he could slip once and shoot directly into you, something about that thrilled you more, made your hips buck against the gun, practically riding the weapon. he admires your desperation, the way your face twists with pleasure as you move against the cool material that built the gun. 

he eventually pulls the tip of the gun down, until it’s at your entrance. 

he watches your eyes widen as the metal dips inside of you, spreading you open with ease. 

your hands flail in his tight hold, “it hurts— officer, wait—“ 

“hm?” he pauses for a mere second, “sweet bunny, you can take it.” 

the pain soon subdues to pleasure as he begins moving the gun again, pumping it in and out of you and coating the black of the weapon with your milky slick. whimpers of pain soon become moans of pleasure, the tears that had built a gloss over your eyes dipping down your cheeks as your eyes close, hips bucking against the weapon. 

“easy, bunny, easy,” his voice is strained, like seeing you cry awakens something within him, when your hips stop moving against his gun he continues to pump it, faster this time, “good girl, gonna cum all over my gun?” 

you nod, more tears escaping as the thrill of your possible death and the pleasure from the weapon that may cause it becomes all too much. a deep groan vibrates from his chest at the sight of you crying, lips parting to continue, “that’s it, good, good.” 

it’s as if you crying is enough to have him reaching his climax already, as if seeing you cry felt like jerking off. 

the gun widens the more it goes into you, stretching you until you’ll be nothing but a gaping mess from his gun when he’s done. 

so filthy, to be easily stretched out by something that has killed many, how terribly cruel of you, to be cumming on it. 

and the man who had done it is merely watching, admiring you like this was an art gallery, and you were the center piece. he notices the way you near your orgasm, as your hips can’t help but grind down on the gun, moans escaping past your nearly bitten to bleeding lips. and you start calling out to him, “officer, officer, please— can i cum— please.” 

a mere plead, and if snow was a good man, he would say yes, but he wasn’t one. 

“no, bunny, you ran from me,” his finger slides against the trigger, staring at you with a new tint glossing over his eyes, “do you think you deserve to cum?” 

“yes, i need to, i want—“ your breath quickens, mindlessly grinding down onto the gun. 

“no,” he pulls the gun out, depraving you of every wish. he notices the way you whimper, thighs pressing together and rubbing in desire to form friction. there was none, and soon he was tossing his gun to the side, tugging his pants and boxers down ever so slightly to free his cock, then prying your legs apart once more. 

he carefully moves himself between your legs, his hand around your wrists finally freeing them, admiring the red ring he left from how tight his grip was. the same hand moved to fall against your throat, fingertips dipping in to your delicate skin as he guides his dick to your entrance, carefully pushing into you. he feels you tense underneath him at the feeling of him filling you once more, the length and girth enough to reach your intestines, you were sure of it. 

once he bottoms out, he notices the way a bulge appears at your pelvis, popping up against the skin then falling to a settle with each thrust. his other hand moves to your mouth, his fingers spreading your pillow lips apart, your salty taste pressing against your own tongue. 

“taste yourself, bunny, so sweet, hm?” he grunts with each thrust, practically manhandling you with each snap of his hips, fingers dipping down your throat. he watches your eyes roll back, mumbling pleas for the satisfaction of your orgasm to finally come, your bodily fluids sticking to his pelvis and his dick, your walls pulsed around him, drooling onto his cock. 

he nears his climax almost immediately, nose scrunching slightly, “cum, cum for me, sweet bunny.” 

“officer—“ your back arches off the earthy ground as you finally reach your climax, moans vibrating against his flesh and he continues to thrust, riding out your orgasm, overstimulating you until he’s practically fucking you dumb. eventually, he bottoms out, pumping you nearly full of his cum. he moves his hand from your mouth, sticky from your saliva, and takes your panties off your ankle, pulling out and plugging your hole with your own panties. just so you don’t lose any of his cum. 

“there, now you can walk around with my cum inside of you, how sweet.” he takes his hands off of you, moving to tuck his softening dick away and standing. 

he offers your limp body a wink, swiping up his gun, and following up with a, “don’t let me catch you again, doll.” 

[angelicsoka]

EXPOSED, j. drysdale

word count | 608 words

pairings | jamie drysdale x fem!hughes!reader, platonic!trevor zegras x reader, platonic!hughes brothers x sister!reader

summary | in which the hughes brothers walk into their younger sister's apartment to discover something shocking.

warnings | not proofread. one use of “y/n”. mostly dialogue. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | i’ve had no motivation to write as of late but i had written this a while back so i figured i’d post it! the quinn fic should be up in the next few weeks (hopefully). 

light flooded the bedroom, slowly waking the couple that lay in the bed. the woman groaned, attempting to break from her lover’s arms which only seemed to tighten around her. “j, hon, you gotta let go.” she rasped out, gently tracing her boyfriend’s face. he pretended to not hear her, playing it off as if he were asleep. “j, i know you aren’t asleep.”

“you don’t need to get up. just stay here with me.” the raspiness of his voice gave her butterflies. his eyes fluttered open, a soft smile on his face. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“thank you, my love, but flattery will not win me over this time. my brothers are coming to town today and trevor is supposed to be picking them up around noon.” she laughed slightly as he groaned.

“tell trev to take them out or something.” he suggested, chuckling when she rolled her eyes.

“yeah, cause that isn’t suspicious at all.” sarcasm laced her voice, running her fingers through his hair.

“this isn't helping, y’know.” jamie pulled her close, kissing her forehead. “okay, fine. we can get up. just know i’m not happy about it.”

“that's okay, i can live with that.” she winked, rolling out of his arms. jamie caught her arm, pulling her back in for a kiss. the kiss became more heated, jamie’s hands on her cheek and hip, as she pulled at his hair. they were in their own little world, unaware of the front door opening. unaware of the footsteps approaching her bedroom door. the door swung open, the couple breaking apart at the noise. in the doorway was her brothers and trevor, shocked looks on their faces.

“what. the. fuck.” jack stated dramatically. in a rush to get off of their sister, jamie fell off the bed, getting a laugh from trevor. 

“the fuck you doing here? did you let them in?” her voice was raised, her cheeks heated as she yelled at trevor. “why didn't you stop them?” quinn and luke turned to look at trevor who held a sheepish look on his face.

“you fucking knew?” jack turned to his best friend as jamie looked to his girlfriend who looked frazzled. “you knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“she swore me to secrecy and honestly, she scares me more than you.” trevor admitted, “i wanted to, i was literally about to explode on my way here.”

“all of you go wait in the fucking living room!” she shouted, breaking them from the argument that was bound to happen. “go!” the brothers hesitated for a moment, but trevor was already down the hallway. the brothers left, luke pulling the door shut. the poor kid looked like he had just seen a ghost. “j, are you alright?” she finally turned to her boyfriend who had still not moved from the floor. 

“yeah.” it was silent for a moment before the couple broke out into laughter. “well, i guess the secret’s out.”

“honestly, they reacted better than i thought they would. fuckin’ trevor though. i'm gonna beat his ass when i get the chance.” jamie laughed at the exasperated look on her face.

“i’ll help.” he smiled, standing up and joining her on the bed. “at least we don’t have to hide anymore. now, i can show off my beautiful girl.”

“and i get show off my handsome boyfriend.” jamie kissed her once more, a smile gracing her lips.

“hey! you guys better not be doing what i think you're doing!”

“fuck off, jack!” she shouted to her brother, giggling as he stomped away. “i love you, jamie drysdale.”

“i love you, y/n hughes.”

[andvys]

We're no good alone | S.H. & E.M.

Part two of It's just us

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! rough smut, threesome, spanking, choking, manhandling, mentions of unrequited love and heartbreak, mentions of cheating, slight angst, fluff, happy ending

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | slight Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: As you and Steve put your rivalry aside, you grow closer and closer and take another step forward when Steve befriends the man who once broke your heart. @mysticmunson thank you for the idea with the polaroid picture!

Word count: 14k+

Author's note: I'm not too sure about this but I didn't just write 14k words for nothing so I hope you're gonna like it

Read the prequel story about Eddie x reader here -> For me it's always you (more parts coming soon)

stranger things masterlist

Feel free to send in requests for drabbles/blurbs for this fic!

-

This has to be one of the weirdest days in your life, first you hooked up with Steve after finding out that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his girlfriend and now you are sitting at Benny’s diner, sharing fries with him and drinking vanilla milkshakes as though it’s the most normal thing for you both to do. It’s not. You hate each other’s guts, you always did. The rivalry had already started in middle school and carried on until now. 

You were disgusted by everything he said and done and yet that didn’t stop you from having sex with him. You let him take out his frustrations on you and he let you too, it was merely hate fucking, that’s all. Right?

It felt good, he made you feel good. You needed it after what you had run into a few days back. 

You never thought that Jonathan would do this to you, that he would hurt you like this but it seems like every guy that you want, doesn’t actually want you. It’s not the first time you have been hurt by men like him, he wasn’t the first. 

He may not know it but he ripped open wounds that you had gotten before him. 

Why aren’t you enough for them? 

What does she have that you don’t have? 

“Stop it.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Stop thinking those thoughts,” Steve sighs. 

“How would you know what I’m thinking about?” You snap at him, rolling your eyes. 

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, he dips his fries into the ketchup, taking his time to answer the question, he eats the fries and drinks his milkshake. 

You have to admit, he looks pretty. His hair is messy from all your tugging, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are filled with.. peace? For someone who just got cheated on, he looks awfully relaxed and content. 

“It’s because I’m thinking them too,” he admits, “but don’t think that you aren’t enough, y/n. You are enough.”

You brows knit together, you stare at him without saying anything. 

His hazel eyes flash with something unrecognizable, he smiles a little, “anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble as you play with your straw, “you have to say that.”

“It’s the truth. I know you hate me but I’m not lying to you,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, he looks away from you, suddenly too shy to hold eye contact, “we might not get along but you’re not that bad, you know? You’ve been a good girlfriend to him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being annoying or mean with him, like you’re with me,” he chuckles, eyes raking over your body, “plus, you’re like really hot and pretty and way out of his league.” 

A smirk tugs at your lips, his cheeks grow more red as he continues to look anywhere but at you. 

“Does someone have a little crush on me?” 

He rolls his eyes, “shut up, no I don’t.” 

He used to have a crush on you, actually, he was pretty sure he was frozen in place the first time he saw you. 12 year old Steve was pretty sure that he was in love with the pretty girl that just moved to Hawkins after her parents decided to come back from the big city. He liked you but he sure had a funny way of showing it, instead of befriending you like he should have, he pulled at your pigtails and shoved you around. 

You giggle as he glares at you. Leaning back in your seat, you look him up and down, “you’re not too bad either but I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.” 

He scrunches his face up in confusion, furrowing his brows, “we literally just fucked at the party and then you made me stop the car because you wanted to suck my dick.” 

“That was in the past,” you say, blushing. 

“That was 20 minutes ago, you let me cum inside you.”

“Well you bend me over the car.”

“Because you asked me to!” 

“I like your dick, it’s really big.” 

A sharp gasp makes you tear your eyes away from his, looking up, you find a middle aged lady looking at the two of you in disgust. The cross necklace around her neck clutched in her hand, she looks at you in disgust, frowning as she looks between you both. 

“Sinners!” She sputters before she continues walking, glancing at you one more time with a horrified expression on her face. 

You and Steve look back at each other, only being able to contain the laughter for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. His hazel eyes are filled with amusement, he puts his hand on his stomach as he leans back, “did you see her face?” 

You nod, still laughing at the older lady.

“I think she’s gonna go pray for us now,” you giggle. 

“It’s no use, we’re already sinners,” Steve snorts. 

The ring above the door sounds through the diner, you look behind Steve’s shoulder almost instantly. Your smile falls when your eyes lock with those brown eyes. For a moment he stares at you, not moving, he just stands there and looks at you. 

Steve straightens up, face growing serious when he sees the annoyance in your eyes and lingering sadness, your brows are furrowed and you glare at whoever it is that you’re looking at. As he turns around he expects it to be Jonathan but instead it’s Eddie Munson who is receiving the death stare from you. 

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now that he knows that you have hooked up with Eddie in the past, he can’t help but wonder what else has happened. Clearly, it wasn’t just casual hookups the way you described it earlier to him, you giggled and mentioned it as though it was nothing meaningful but that was obviously a lie. 

Eddie is staring at you with his big puppy dog eyes, while you stare at him with the look that only he ever received in the past. 

He tears his eyes away from you and they flash with confusion when he looks at him. Steve can imagine what kinds of questions are running through his mind right now, ‘why is she here with him?’, ‘where are Jonathan and Nancy?’, ‘why are they here together?’ 

It’s no secret to others that you and Steve don’t get along, the whole school knows about your rivalry. 

He looks at you one more time before he finally turns away and walks towards the counter. 

Steve turns back to you with a curious look on his face, your arms are crossed, your jaw is clenched and you look out the window, blinking. 

“Are you… okay?” Steve asks almost skeptically. 

“Don’t act like you care, Harrington,” you snap at him again, giving him the usual bratty attitude. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“Can you drive me home?” 

“No.” 

Your lips part, glaring at him, you scoff, “what do you mean no?” 

Steve smirks, “say please and I’ll drive you home.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes.” 

You huff angrily, rolling your eyes. It amuses him. 

“I can walk home,” you shrug. Getting up, you reach for your purse and smooth down your skirt. 

“You think I’ll let you walk home?”

“Well, you said you won’t drive me home,” you counter. 

“Just be nicer, jeez.” 

“I’m not nice.” 

He gets up as well and looks at you as he reaches for his wallet, throwing some money on the table, “did anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”

You feel his eyes on you and it’s making your skin crawl. You step closer to Steve, batting your eyelashes at him, “can you please drive me home, Steve?” You ask as you reach for his hand. 

His lips curl into a smirk, he knows exactly why you are doing this. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

He places his hand on the small of your back and looks down at you as he leads you out of the diner, you are not looking at him but he is looking at you, with both a frown on his face and confusion. He doesn’t even notice that Steve is looking, he only pays attention to you. 

You let out a loud sigh when you step out of the diner, breathing in the fresh air. Neither of you speak up, at least not until you’re back in his car. 

“So.. what happened with you and Munson?” Steve asks, watching the way you tense up, “I thought it was just casual hookups.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie Munson was just another boy who broke your heart. Jonathan was the one who put it back together, only to hurt it was well. 

You moved on from it, at least you thought you did. Jonathan’s and Nancy’s betrayal wasn’t the only painful memories on your mind the past few days, they also brought you back to him. 

Steve tilts his head as he watches you, he will find out what happened. 

“So what now?” 

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, getting more comfortable in his seat, he puts his hand on the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair, he looks at his own expression in the rearview mirror before turning to you. 

“You do know that we’re gonna be the laughing stock of the school, right?” 

You shrug, furrowing your brows you stare at him like you don’t understand the problem. You don’t care about it, you don’t care that people will laugh at you, that they will make fun of you. That is something Steve always admired about you, you just don’t give a damn about other people, you do and say whatever you want, not caring about what others will think or say. 

“I don’t want that.” 

You snort, “why would they laugh at you?” 

Steve sighs again, eyes flashing with confusion, he brings his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we dated two outcasts, two…–”

“Losers? We dated two losers?” You mumble, nodding, “yes we did, they are fucking losers for what they did.” 

“Exactly! We got fucked over by losers, y/n!” 

“Oh my god, Harrington, do you seriously care about what people will have to say about it? Do you think that I give a fuck? They can laugh and talk shit, I don’t care. I literally just lost my boyfriend and my best friend!” You say angrily, throwing your hands up as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, “my best friend, Steve! She was with me since we were little! I don’t even care about what he did, I’ll move on from that but her? She was supposed to be my friend.” 

His eyes flash with guilt but also with sympathy. He lost her too, a girl he thought he would spend his life with but it must be so much harder for you. 

“Y/n..” 

“What do you want? Do you want to hurt them? Do you want us to be together so you can get back at them?” You ask, “trust me they won’t fucking care, obviously they’re like in love or something.”

You wipe your tears angrily and slump back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window, only now noticing the van parked next to you. 

“Can you just drive?”

“Yeah.. sure,” he mumbles, finally starting the car. “You think they’re in love?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, rubbing your forehead, “I’m not blind, Steve. I could see the way they looked at each other, I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.” 

Steve swallows harshly, eyes flashing with sadness, “oh..” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

He thinks about it, is he hurt by it? A little. Is he heartbroken? Not really. He doesn’t understand it, when he first caught them, he threw up and felt like crying his eyes out but now after what happened with you, he suddenly feels… okay.

The car is filled with silence aside from the music on the radio. Too many things are running through your mind as you drive through the empty streets of Hawkins but you try to focus on something else, you try to focus on the fact that you are here with Steve. 

Things should feel awkward between you, especially after what happened at the party and here in his car but it doesn’t, if anything it feels natural, surprisingly. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself. 

Kissing him, touching him, having sex with him felt nice. Even sharing fries and spending time with him felt nice, it makes you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place, why he hated you. 

You look over at him, staring at his side profile. His chiseled jaw, the light stubble on his skin, his stupid perfect hair. Your eyes trail down to his shoulder, his arm and his hand, his veiny hands. 

You lick your lips, Steve is handsome, pretty and sexy. You had never seen his beauty before, not until tonight. Suddenly you feel yourself wanting him more. Not wanting this to be a one time thing. 

Nancy is an idiot. 

“Steve?” 

“Yes?” 

“We should be friends.” 

His eyes widen, he blinks a few times, lips parting and closing again. 

“F-Friends?” 

“Mhmm.” 

He parks his car in your driveway, staring at your house for a moment, he takes a deep breath and turns to you, “friends?” He asks, pointing his finger between you and him, “you want us to be friends?” 

“You literally wanted to fake a relationship–”

“Who said anything about fake?” 

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “you and I? We would never work.” 

“Why not?” He shrugs. 

“Uh– maybe because you hate me and I hate you?” 

“I don’t hate you,” he scoffs, “I just hate that little attitude of yours, you need to be put in your place.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, “yeah well, you’re not exactly brat tamer material, Steve.” 

He smirks, eyes twinkling, “oh so you admit that you’re a brat?” 

“No..” 

He chuckles at the frown on your face, leaning closer to you, he puts his fingers under your chin, “you know what? I can be your friend but please tell me that we can do all this again.” 

You bite your lip and look deeply into his eyes, “please.” 

His eyes light up, he brings you closer, looking down at your lips. His nose bumps against yours as he smashes his lips against yours. You respond to the kiss with desperation, throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your hand in his hair. 

He moans into the kiss, a sound that is enough to make you shiver again. 

“Do you wanna come inside?” You murmur against his lips, pecking them again. 

“What about your parents?” Steve asks as he continues to steal kisses from you. 

“We’ll have to be quiet,” you breathe. 

“Can you be quiet?” He smirks as he kisses your cheek, “wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to catch their good little girl getting ruined by Steve Harrington.” 

“Shut up, can you be quiet?” 

“Let’s find out.” 

-

Your weekends usually consist of movie nights with Jonathan, Nancy and Steve. Getting food at Benny’s diner, sleepovers with your best friend or a shopping trip to Starcourt mall. 

You expected tears of sadness and anger for this weekend but instead you got something else. 

After spending the night at your place, he took you back to his house the next day. His parents weren’t home, you got the house to yourselves. 

You took your frustrations out on one another, he fucked you on every surface of his house, making you forget about anything that ever hurt you. He marked you up, he kissed every inch of your body, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your chest, you gave him some in return, you worshiped him, making him feel something that she could never make him feel. 

Steve fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did but you didn’t mind. You felt good and he made you forget, that’s all you wanted and needed. 

You ignored Nancy’s and Jonathan’s calls, you expected them to show up at some point but it seemed as though neither of them were brave enough to actually face you, luckily. You didn’t want to see them and Steve didn’t either. 

You stayed at his house for two days. Your usual movie night was different this time, Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there and thank god they weren’t. Making out with Steve and riding him on his big sofa was better than watching some stupid movie and cuddling up to your lying, cheating, partners. 

You even made use of the polaroid that Steve bought but never really used before. 

To say that you had fun this weekend would be an understatement. 

But of course, you still hate each other. 

When you walked down the hallways at school this morning, all eyes were on you and Steve. For the first time, you walked together, side by side. 

It was no secret that you hated each other, you were often found bickering during class, at the cafeteria during lunch and in the hallways. But there you were, walking next to him in your cheerleader uniform, hair perfectly styled and makeup looking pretty on your face, a bright smile resting on your face as you looked up at King Steve, who gave you a cocky smile as he carried your books. 

The hickeys on your neck were perfectly on display as were his. 

You almost burst out laughing when people started whispering, pointing to the two of you. It was a scandal. 

You and Steve had fun with it, especially when you caught the eyes of Nancy and Jonathan, who both stared at you in confusion before they disappeared in a classroom. 

You enjoyed the attention and so did he, you were amused by it. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what they would react like if you walked hand in hand, while stealing kisses from each other. 

Maybe someday..

-

He should be paying attention to class, he really should but his mind is occupied by you. After spending a whole weekend with you, he had a sudden change of heart. His feelings had developed into something else and it confuses him. 

He should be hurt, heartbroken and in agonizing pain. He should be crying and pining after the girl that he thought he loved so much but instead his thoughts are elsewhere. 

Maybe you fucked the pain out of him. 

He sighs, looking down at his notes, he finds the page blank, he will have to steal them from Robin again. 

He looks around, eyes falling on the man that intrigues him ever since he had learned about your little affair. He tried to find out more about your past with Eddie but you always shut down, refusing to talk about it. You seemed hurt, just hearing his name made you tense up. What happened? 

You seemed less hurt by Jonathan’s actions than by Eddie’s. What did he do? 

“You’ll be working in pairs for this assignment, you can pick your partner.” 

Steve looks around, staring at people switching seats. Then his eyes fall back on Eddie, who remains in his seat with his head down. 

Grabbing his books, he gets up and walks towards him, settling in the free seat next to him, he slams the books on the table, startling the metalhead who looks up at him in confusion. 

“W-What are you doing?” He mumbles, eying Steve with shock on his face, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, like he expects to be jumped by him. 

Steve chuckles, “we gotta work in pairs,” he shrugs. 

“I always work alone.” 

“Well, today you aren’t,” Steve says. 

Eddie continues to stare at him with raised brows, looking around, he almost expects someone from the basketball team to stare at him with smirks and anticipated looks on their faces as they wait for the King to pull some sort of prank but no one even looks at him.

“Okay,” he mumbles, turning back again.

“Relax buddy, I just wanna work with you.” 

“Why?” Eddie mumbles grumpily. 

Steve shrugs, “I just do.” 

“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, he can’t blame Eddie, he doesn’t have it easy at school but he never did anything to him, he can be an asshole but he is no bully. 

“Whatever, man. Let’s just work on this assignment.” 

“What’s the assignment?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

Eddie huffs, throwing his pencil on his notebook, “aren’t you trying to graduate this year?” 

“Aren’t you trying to graduate again?” Steve counters as he slams his notebook open, forgetting about the pictures he had slipped in there earlier. It falls on Eddie’s lap, who looks down at it, eyes widening. 

Eddie takes the picture, he stares at it in surprise. His lips part in shock. It’s a picture of someone’s boobs. It’s not a challenge to figure out who’s body this is, he had definitely seen and touched it before, he is pretty sure he has a picture of them too, somewhere. 

He can’t see a face or hair in this picture, only the neck and the chest that is littered in hickeys and bite marks, a hand on the lower stomach, fingernails painted black, a pink skirt bunched up at the waist, nipple piercings. 

It’s you. 

His stomach drops, his eyes flash with anger and jealousy, he doesn’t want it to be you. 

Steve watches him in anticipation, he might have done it on purpose, wanting to find out how the metalhead would react to it. 

Eddie pushes the picture into Steve’s hand, looking up at him, “who’s that?” 

The look on Eddie’s face is almost comical to Steve, his nostrils are flared, lips set in a frown as he stares at him with jealousy in his eyes. Shouldn’t he be used to it already? You’ve been dating Jonathan. Did he ever glare at him? Did he ever stare at him with anger and jealousy on his face? Steve wishes that he would have paid attention to Eddie before.

Steve chuckles in amusement. Putting the picture back into the notebook, he turns to one of the nerds, asking about the assignment. 

“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, “who is it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer already. Everything about the picture just tells him that it is you, from the shape of your body to the pink skirt you have worn before. 

Eddie continues bugging him throughout the whole lesson, he should be focusing on the assignment but he can’t get the picture out of his mind. 

“I thought you’d be able to recognize her,” Steve says smugly, “given that you two have fucked before.”

Eddie wants to ask and say so many things but he is shocked and confused. 

Steve is dating Nancy. 

You are dating Jonathan. 

You hate Steve Harrington, at least you always said you did, was it all just a lie? 

Eddie storms out of the classroom the moment the bell rings, he rushes out into the hallway, leaving a smug looking Steve behind. 

-

Skipping the last period seemed to be the best decision to make, it’s the one class you share with both Jonathan and Nancy, you don’t feel like seeing either of them, it’s been difficult enough to avoid them all day. 

Sitting on the ground at the library, you’re flipping through the pages of some random book about nature, you tried reading something but your mind is just too occupied by other things, you can’t focus. 

“Hey.” 

You freeze at the sound of his voice. You raise your head slowly. Eddie Munson. You can’t even remember the last time you had talked to him and you wish it would have stayed that way, you don’t want to talk to him, in fact, you would even rather talk to Jonathan and Nancy, that’s how bad it is.

“What do you want?” 

“Can we talk?”

“No?” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, you shake your head in disbelief, looking back down at the book, you flip to the next page, pretending to read. 

He sighs, “please?” 

“Fuck off, Munson,” you mumble, “you should go before someone sees you with a popular cheerleader, don’t wanna ruin your perfect reputation.” 

Eddie scoffs, huffing in annoyance. 

“You’re still pissed about that?” 

“No, I’m just saying,” you mumble as you slam the book shut and throw it to the ground before you get up, reaching for your book, you walk into the other direction, not bothering to even look at him but Eddie has different plans. He rushes after you, moving in front of you to keep you from walking away. 

All he gets is an annoyed look before you turn the other way but he is quick to push you against the bookshelf, caging you against it. 

“Are you serious? Let me go!” You whisper, trying to push him away. 

He shakes his head stubbornly, looking into your eyes intently. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, Munson?” 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

Your eyes show nothing but anger but you pretend not to be, “no, I just don’t feel like talking to you.” 

Eddie Munson broke your heart, hurting you with harsh words and pushing you away just when you had confessed your love for him. 

“You’re fucking Harrington?” He asks, completely ignoring your answer.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the look in his eyes is one of jealousy and anger. They flicker down to your neck, staring at all the hickeys on your skin, recognition flashing in his dark eyes. 

“That’s what you wanna talk to me about?” You scoff. 

You really wanna keep your cool, show him that you left him behind in the past, where he belongs. You hate him. You hate him more than you hate Jonathan who cheated on you, something that you thought would rip your heart out, surprisingly it didn’t but maybe that’s because Eddie had done it for him long before. 

What does he even want from you? He hasn’t spoken to you since the night he left you standing in the rain. He was the reason you started dating Jonathan in the first place, you found comfort in him when he had found you crying behind the school weeks after your fallout with Eddie, he comforted you, placed his jacket around your shoulders and asked if you wanted to listen to a tape he had just made. 

Jonathan was sweet, he loved music and driving around, taking you to the movies. He did what Eddie used to do, maybe that’s why you liked him so much. He filled the hole that he had left behind. 

Something about Eddie has changed, not only do you see a new tattoo peeking out of his shirt, his hair also got longer, he uses a different cologne now, he probably stopped using Wayne’s cologne or maybe Wayne changed his and Eddie is still stealing it. New pins are on his vest and he seems more mature. You know that he is still the same dork as before, still joking around with his friends like a young and careless teen, he still jumps on tables and holds speeches knowing that he will get shit for it afterwards but there is something in his eyes that had changed. A flicker of sadness and emptiness that wasn’t there before. 

You haven’t been this close to him since the last year and you hate yourself for admitting that you miss him. 

You always missed him. You used to feel awful for still thinking about him when Jonathan kissed you, when he touched you or even when he just held your hand, you always thought about him. The last weekend was the first time that you haven’t thought about him, not even a single moment. 

Jonathan couldn’t make you forget but Steve did. 

“You’re dating Byers,” he mumbles, “and you’re fucking your best friend’s boyfriend?” 

So, word hasn’t gotten around yet? You’re surprised, considering you told Heather about it, not that she’s much on gossip but she tends to have a loose mouth when she’s drunk. 

“And so what if I do?” You ask, tilting your head. You don’t miss the look in his eyes when he stares at your lips for a moment. 

“That’s not you, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart, god you want to rip your hair out. 

“And what do you know about me?” You ask, clenching your jaw angrily. 

He grimaces at your question, stepping even closer to you, “I know everything about you.” 

“No, you don’t,” you shake your head, “now back off.” 

Eddie hesitates, what reason would he have to talk to you? What right does he have to ask you any questions? He was the one who pushed you out of his life, he was the one who rejected you, he was the one who didn’t want you. What a lie. God, you will never know how much he really wanted you, how much he still wants you.

He felt like a goddamn fool when he saw you with Jonathan Byers, knowing that he could’ve been the one by your side, if he wasn’t so scared. 

He steps away and drops his arm to his sides, eyes flashing with sadness as you quickly pull away from him. His gaze follows you.

You halt in your tracks, taking a deep breath before you whirl around to face him again. You cannot stand him and his stupid puppy eyes. He looks at you as though you were the one who hurt him. 

“To answer your question, no, I’m not with Jonathan anymore and I didn’t fuck my best friend’s boyfriend, she fucked mine. Steve caught them and the next day I caught them as well.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, he looks shocked and confused. 

“W-What?” He mumbles in disbelief, “shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry–”

“Save it, Munson,” you scoff, looking away from him as your eyes well up with angry tears. 

“Who would cheat on you..” 

What is that supposed to mean? Wasn’t he the one who made you feel like you weren’t enough for him? 

“Yeah and who would ever hurt me?” You ask as you plaster a smile on your face. The guilty look on his face makes you mad. “Whatever, I seem to be going for the wrong guys all the time.” 

He whispers your name. 

“But that’s fine, I guess I learnt my lesson,” you shrugs, “I should look for ones that are just as stuck up and boring as me, huh?” 

He looks down, feeling ashamed of the words he used to hurt you. 

You leave after a moment, storming out of the library. You want to leave him behind just like you want to leave Nancy and Jonathan behind.

But it turns out to be a challenge. You and Steve continue your newly found friendship. Weeks go by and after a few confrontations with your ex partners, they finally leave you alone. You no longer want to resume your friendship with Nancy, she cried and apologized to you, telling you that she didn’t want to lose you but she didn’t do much to prove it, especially when she just started dating your ex boyfriend. 

Moving on will never be easy but you have him now. You and Steve still fight, you still use every opportunity to piss him off and in return, he does the same. You love making each other mad, you love heated arguments, ones that lead to sex. 

You sneak out of class just to make out with him in the bathroom. Every time he throws you a note, you can feel his excited eyes on you but also the one’s of Eddie, who seemed to be interested to make a comeback in your life.

Not that you will ever let him. 

You are focused on other things. Cheer practice, studying, girls nights with friends from the cheer squad and most importantly spending time with King Steve.

You found comfort in each other, maybe you were just no good alone but you like being around him. What starts off with a weird friendship with your enemy ends up developing into something bigger. A few months back you couldn’t even stand being around each other for longer than 10 minutes, now you can’t be without each other. Steve is surprisingly a really clingy guy and you don’t mind it. 

After using your parents money to book a vacation, you spend your spring break on the east coast, using fake IDs to buy drinks and using Mr. Harrington’s credit card to rent a yacht. You both have wealthy parents, might as well use their money to have fun. 

When Steve had suggested going on that trip, you didn’t expect to come back as his girlfriend but you did and for some insane reason, you love it. 

A part of you still struggles to trust his intentions but you still agreed on becoming his. 

What’s more insane is the fact that Steve had somehow befriended Eddie. Out of all people he could’ve started a friendship with, it of course had to be the guy that broke your heart. Apparently they had worked on an assignment together and ‘hit it off’. You should be pissed but he doesn’t really know what happened with you and him and you cannot blame him for liking him, Eddie is.. amazing. And Steve deserves to have more friends. 

After cutting off Tommy a while back, Steve only really had Nancy, Jonathan and well you. Robin Buckley was one of his friends as well but they only ever hung out at work together, only having brief conversations at school. 

For two months, he followed you around like a lost puppy after the breakup with Nancy. Spending lunch with you and your cheer squad instead of hanging out with the guys from the basketball team, why? You will never know, maybe it had something to do with his dislike for Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove but Steve preferred to stick to your side, that is until he and Eddie became friends.

You are not sure which one of them is playing a game though, is it Eddie who uses your boyfriend to sneak his way back into your life? Or is it your boyfriend himself, who is trying to test you to see if there are any remaining feelings left for his new friend?

You did tell him a little about your past but you didn’t want to give away too much, not wanting to admit that he hurt you as much as he did. Steve isn’t stupid though, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out that what you felt for Eddie was deeper than you wanted to admit. 

It also really wasn’t a challenge to figure out that you started dating Jonathan in hopes that he could be like him. 

Maybe, he should feel insecure, feel scared and worried that he might lose you to another man just like he lost Nancy but your feelings for him are genuine, even when your mind keeps taking you back to the other man. He can see it in your eyes, though you still act stubborn at times and pretend that he doesn’t mean that much to you, he knows it’s all just an act. 

You love Steve in a way Nancy couldn’t and he loves you in a way Jonathan couldn’t. 

But there is also someone else that loves you and despite his jealous nature, Steve doesn’t mind it, as odd as it is. 

The more time he spends with him, the more he finds a liking towards Eddie, much to your demise. You don’t mind it, you just hate being around him. 

It’s been easy to ignore him and his puppy dog eyes at first but once he realized that he is not getting any of your attention, he suddenly became a menace. He went from being apologetic to annoying, real quick. 

He uses every opportunity to tease you, making sly comments and trying to flirt with you and Steve doesn’t even seem to mind, if anything, he finds it amusing. Watching his new friend getting on your nerves and getting the treatment from you that only he usually gets. 

You should be mad at Steve for letting Eddie treat you like this but you can’t, not when you like it deep down. 

Eddie stole the spot that used to belong to Steve, now he is your annoying 'enemy'. 

Wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. Just like tonight. 

A date night with your boyfriend turns into one with Eddie as well. 

Sitting on Steve’s lap, you play with his hair, occasionally turning to look at the other man in the room, who smokes his blunt and drinks his beer as he talks to Steve about his stupid band that you used to love. 

Steve’s large hand is resting on your hip, playing with the soft material of your skirt as he nods along to Eddie’s words. 

“Babe,” you cut Eddie off, not even sparing him a glance as you look at your boyfriend, “are you ever gonna order that pizza?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m getting hungry and bored.” 

Steve sighs, “don’t be rude, he was talking.” 

“Who?” You feign, giving him a confused look. Smiling in satisfaction when you hear Eddie mumbling something under his breath. 

You smile at him as you lean in to kiss his neck. He takes in a sharp breath, hand gripping your hip tighter causing your skirt to ride up a little. He can’t help but look over at Eddie to see his reaction, just as expected, Eddie is staring at you with such intensity in his eyes that it makes Steve shiver. 

“Baby,” he warns but you don’t listen. You never do. 

Eddie is both jealous and angry, though he admires the view, staring at your exposed skin as Steve touches your hip. 

Steve raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak but before he can even form a word, you smash your lips against his, kissing him roughly. 

His eyes widen in surprise but he can’t even stop the moan from falling. You throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, placing your hands on his neck and deepen the kiss as your tongue meets his. 

Eddie swallows harshly, placing his blunt down, he tightens his grip on the bottle. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with anger and jealousy. You are doing this on purpose, to taunt him. 

He likes Steve but right now, he hates him for being able to touch and kiss you like this, wishing it was him instead. He leans back against the sofa, eyes trailing down to your ass that Steve is squeezing roughly as he starts making out with you. Your skirt rides up further, exposing the black thong that you’re wearing. You’re rolling your hips, grinding against your boyfriend as you moan into his mouth. 

Eddie clenches his hand into a fist, tensing up, he shifts around, uncomfortably, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper a small ‘please’. 

He would love nothing more than to be in Steve’s place right now. To hold you and kiss you. 

Steve pulls away with a groan, “behave yourself.” 

A giggle leaves your lips and after pecking his lips one more time, you pull away and settle back on the couch, smirking at the bulge in your boyfriend’s jeans. 

He blushes, running his fingers through his hair, he gets up, trying to hide the obvious tent in his pants, “I’m gonna order the pizza,” he mumbles as he rushes out of the living room without looking at Eddie. 

You look at the tv for a moment before your eyes find Eddie’s. He is glaring at you. You smile in satisfaction, raising your hand, you look at your freshly manicured fingernails as you begin to hum some song. 

Eddie is seething, this is not the first time you had kissed Steve in front of him but usually it was nothing more than a peck. 

He scoffs as he raises the bottle to his lips. Right now, he can’t stand you. 

He can’t stand the way you look so pretty, the way you sit there looking so innocent after what you just did. He hates the way the room smells like your sweet perfume despite the lingering smoke in the air. He hates the way you hate him. 

He reaches for the blunt, placing it between his lips, he lights it up with the lighter that Steve threw on the table earlier. 

You look at him, tilting your head, “what’s wrong?” You ask him sweetly.

He screws up his face, shrugging, “nothing.” 

You get up and his eyes widen when you walk towards him. He stares at the way your skirt hugs your body perfectly, the way your top slides up your stomach a little, exposing some of your skin, you’re not wearing a bra, he can see your nipple piercings. You lick your puffy lips and lean down in front of him, placing your hand on his knee, you reach for the blunt between his lips. 

He gulps, eyes growing wider and breath hitching in his throat. He licks his lips, staring into your eyes as you inhale the smoke. 

Eddie can’t even help it, he leans closer to you, placing his hand over yours, his fingertips trace your skin. 

You look down for a second, staring at his hand and at his rings, your gaze softens for a moment and then you look back into his eyes. 

He whispers your name, you blink, eyes falling down to his lips. 

But it all just lasts for a second before you place the blunt back between his lips and walk away from him. Sitting back down on the sofa and looking away with a clenched jaw. 

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.” 

Steve walks back into the room, sensing the tension right away. He looks between the two of you, noticing the anger in your eyes and the longing in his. 

He sighs, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles at you, “pizza is on the way,” he says as he settles back next to you, “you wanna watch Halloween now?” 

“Sure..”

-

The graduation party is finally over, you no longer have to listen to the awful pop music, red solo cups are all over the place. Steve’s house is a mess. You’re both lucky that his parents aren’t home until the end of next week. 

The night started off well, you got ready in his bathroom, had a few drinks before the party even started and made out with him on one of the pool loungers before the guest started coming in. 

Now you’re seething, rolling your eyes at him and scoffing at whatever he is saying as you’re cleaning up the mess. It’s silly, you have to admit and you know you’re acting like a brat for no reason but getting the piss out of him will just always be your thing. 

You’re proud of him, you really are. He made it, he graduated, got his diploma and he is free to do whatever he wants now. He doesn’t have to go back to high school, he doesn’t have to see Nancy or Jonathan again. You’re just so scared that he will leave you behind, walk away from you and pretend like you were never a part of his life. 

Maybe you are overthinking it, maybe you are just hurt from the men before or maybe you are simply broken. 

But right now, you’re angry, especially after seeing one of the girls trying to flirt with him. He didn’t pay her any mind, he didn’t even smile at her or react to the way she was eying him up and down, he politely rejected her and pushed her hand off of his arm and yet it pissed you off, why did he let her get this close in the first place? 

“Asshole.” 

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs as he watches you rush past him. 

“You heard me!” You snap at him as you slam the door open and walk towards the counter, slamming your red solo cups down, you turn around and open the fridge, getting yourself a cold coke. 

“Why am I an asshole?” He asks with a confused and angry face, closing the door to the luckily empty kitchen. 

“You let that bitch touch you!” You yell as you close the fridge, glaring at your boyfriend. 

Steve knows that this isn’t the only thing that caused this sudden outburst, you have been acting weird and sensitive for the past few weeks. 

“Honey,” he mumbles as he takes a deep breath, putting his hands together he walks towards you, “I pushed her hand off, I didn’t even talk to her!” 

You clench your jaw, tearing your gaze away from him, you sigh angrily, “yes, you did.” 

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows that you won’t just drop it, you’re gonna mop around and continue trying to get on his nerves. 

“Jesus, I didn’t.”

You stare at him with fire in your eyes. Oh, you’re mad, mad. He knows that there is more behind your anger, it’s not just about that girl, you’re not even the jealous type or maybe you are, maybe you were just too good at hiding it before. 

Steve shakes his head, walking towards you, he tries to reach out for you but you push his hands away, “just go to your new girlfriend, you seemed to like staring at her fucking tits.”

You both know that he wasn’t staring at her tits, in fact, he wasn’t staring at her at all. He looked uncomfortable and glanced at you, reaching for your hand, he pulled you in and placed his hand on the small of your back, you were there the whole time. He wasn’t staring, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t doing anything. 

“Jesus christ,” he sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “are you really starting this again?” 

“Starting what?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Steve’s eyes fall to your chest, staring at your tits. 

“Starting some stupid fight just so I will fuck your brains out.” 

You tilt your head, scoffing, “why would I want you to fuck me?” You ask him, as though he isn’t your boyfriend, as though you don’t beg for his touches, as though you aren���t obsessed with him. 

“Oh, so you’re gonna act like you’re not obsessed with me?” 

You scoff, giving him a disapproving look, “trust me, I’m not obsessed with you.” 

He rolls his eyes at your words, stepping closer to you, “you’re such a brat,” he says as he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling. 

“You’re the brat, Harrington.” 

He looks back down at you with darkened eyes. The pout on your face is cute but the mischief in your eyes irritates him. 

“What do you want, honey?” 

You shrug, biting your lip, you eye him up and down. Grabbing him by his belt, you pull him closer to you. Instantly, his hands reach for your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Standing on your tippy toes, you lean in and give him a kiss, “I want you to stop being a dick.” 

He looks into your eyes and raises his brows, he grabs your jaw, “oh, I’m a dick now?” 

“Mhmm, yes you are,” you nod, “you’re a dick, Steve Harrington.” 

“And you’re kind of a bitch, honey.” 

“No, I’m not. You’re just a real asshole.” 

“You always need the last word, don’t you?” 

You nod, “you know me.” 

He shakes his head, tracing your bottom lip, he looks deeply into your eyes, “tell me, what’s your actual problem? Be honest with me.” 

You hesitate. You’re scared of something, he can see it in your eyes. That fear has been there for some weeks now. 

Your relationship was just two months old, things were still new for the two of you. You went from disliking each other to loving each other, sure, it was weird for you but not for him. Once he touched you for the first time, he easily grew addicted to you and he found himself wondering why he never went after you instead of Nancy, in the first place. 

“You’re leaving me,” you say with fear in your eyes and anger in your voice. 

He frowns at your words, staring at you in confusion, “huh?” 

“You’re leaving me,” you repeat yourself as you cross your arms over your chest again, pouting at him like a pissed off brat, “you’re leaving me alone with all these assholes.” 

Just as you and Steve finally found your way to each other, his time at school is over while you stay for one more year, you are not ready to let him go. 

“Oh,” he mumbles, finally understanding what you are talking about, he rolls his eyes at your words and sighs, “I’m not leaving you, honey. I only graduated and the last time I checked, you’re the one who’s leaving me next year, while you go off to college, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

You squint your eyes at him, “are you?” You counter, tilting your head up, “are you waiting for me or are you gonna find someone else to fuck?” 

He scoffs at you, glaring into your eyes, “fuck? Is that all we’re doing here? Fucking?” 

You shrug. Maybe. The anxiety of him wanting to do this just to get back at her still lingers. 

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, staring at you in disbelief, “baby, you’re my girl. I want you, no one else.” 

Your heart flutters at his words, taking the tension off your shoulders a little but you aren’t done yet. 

“What about Nancy? Do you still want her?” 

He doesn’t understand where this is all coming from, he shakes his head, eyes widening, “no!” He cups your cheeks, “I don’t! Why would I still want her? I want you, only you even though you’re a fucking brat and you get on my nerves all the damn time but fuck, you’re it for me.” 

If your past selves could see the two of you now, they would be mortified. 

You believe him, you really do. You want to kiss him and hug him, lay your head on his chest and apologize but still, you roll your eyes and look away. 

You look away from his hazel eyes, staring at your manicured nails, you shrug, a small sigh leaving your lips. 

Steve’s shoulders slump, he loves you but you are so irritating sometimes. 

“Trouble in paradise?” 

Looking over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie standing there with a smug look on his face. He walks towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You drop your arms to your sides and step away from your boyfriend, sighing in annoyance. 

Right, you forgot that your boyfriend’s boyfriend is still here. 

Steve looks intrigued, he wants to see what will happen if Eddie takes his teasing a little further. 

You cross your arms over your chest and turn away from both men but Eddie grabs your arm, holding you back, he steps in front of you, “where are you going, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

You furrow your brows, glaring at him, “away from you.” 

He coos at you, pouting at your words, “I see, nothing changed. You’re still a fucking brat.” 

You scoff at his words, slapping his hand off of you, you clench your jaw in anger. How dare he touch you? 

His dark eyes stare into yours, he leans closer, eying your lips for a moment, “poor King Steve doesn’t know how to handle you, huh? He doesn’t know how to put you in your place?” He asks as he reaches his hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek softly. “He can’t do it like I can, right?” 

You blink as you stare into his eyes, shivering at the feeling of his touch and at the sound of his voice. Your knees grow a little weak and you hate the way your stomach flutters at his words. Your boyfriend is standing there, right behind you, watching the scene unfold. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, you turn away from him as you start blushing because of him, “whatever.” 

Steve gasps, eyes widening in disbelief. That’s all you have to say? Whatever? You sure have a lot to say to him whenever you both bicker. 

Eddie chuckles as he eyes you up and down, “you wanna be put in your place, huh?” 

Eddie wouldn’t say all this to you if there wasn’t so much tension already, the past few weeks have led up to this exact moment. 

You don’t say anything, just growing more flustered, not looking into Eddie’s or Steve’s eyes. 

Eddie’s smirk widens, he looks over your shoulder, staring at Steve who shakes his head as a small chuckle falls from his lips. 

“Do it.” 

Your lips part and your eyes widen, you turn around, staring at your boyfriend in shock. 

“Put her in her place,” he murmurs as he reaches for your waist, pulling you into him, “tame the fucking brat.” 

You gasp at his words, “S-Steve?” 

He chuckles, grasping your face in his large hands, he pulls you closer to kiss your lips, “that’s what you want, right?” 

You gulp nervously, blinking. You hesitate and take a deep breath. 

“N-No..”

He smirks, looking into your lust filled eyes, “come on, don’t lie to me.”

He pulls you tighter against him, squeezing your waist as he steals another soft kiss from you, “it’s okay, it’s just Eddie.” 

Eddie, the only man he is willing to share you with. 

You can always say no, he makes sure you know that. You can back down but do you want to? 

You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend and turn around to face the man you have been avoiding, your eyes lock with his beautiful ones. 

No, you don’t want to back down. 

Eddie already knows your answer before even asking that question but he grabs your hand and pulls you closer, “do you want it?” he whispers as he brings his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin. 

“Yes.” It comes out as a mere whisper, a nervous one. 

Eddie smirks and Steve does too but you can’t see him. The man in front of you looks like he had just won the lottery, his eyes light up and he looks happier than he has ever felt before. He grabs your waist and without wasting another moment, he pulls you flush against him and slams his lips against yours. 

For the first time in over a year, you finally feel his touch again, his kiss. 

He is desperate in the way he kisses you, not caring about your boyfriend who watches it all unfold with awe in his eyes, he doesn’t care about anything but you. He finally has you back in his arms, even if it’s just for this moment. His hands are so delicate on your skin, his lips move so roughly against yours, he savors every second in which you kiss him back. 

He doesn’t know whether to smile or to cry but he leaves the latter for when this night is over, now he enjoys it. 

A moan, a whine and a desperate whimper from you, and both men that you have wrapped around your finger are rock hard. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue meets yours and he groans in pleasure when you bury your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark curls. 

God, he missed you so much. His heart, his life felt so empty without you. He wants to kiss you softly, he wants to make love to you and show you how much he misses you but he can’t. You are not his, you will never be his and even when Steve is okay with this, he knows that it’s only just a one time thing, it’s just for sex, for rough sex. 

Your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, forcing you to break the kiss with Eddie, you whine at that action, chasing after his lips. He chuckles darkly, leaning down, he presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing you and nipping at your skin as he pulls the strap of your top down, “you want him, honey?” 

Your eyelashes flutter, your lips part and you stare into Eddie’s eyes, watching the way he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, the way he did before but there is more now, something you can’t or don’t want to read because it will make you sad. 

Steve’s lips are soft, making your heart and stomach flutter, “it’s okay, you can have him if you want,” he murmurs, “I don’t mind.” 

You have questions, so many of them but you don’t bother to speak them out now, instead you find yourself nodding, “I want you both.”

Eddie smirks, eyes lighting up. 

“Oh yeah?” Steve whispers, “you want him to fuck the brat out of you, baby?” 

“Mhmm.” 

Steve leads you and Eddie upstairs and into his room, he holds your hand while you hold Eddie’s, looking back at him to catch him staring at your ass, watching your skirt move back and forth as you walk up the stairs. He licks his lips before he raises his head to look into your eyes. 

The moment you step into your boyfriend’s room, you suddenly feel nervous but also intrigued. Steve locks the door and then he walks you over to his bed, pushing you down, he grabs your chin and caresses your cheek, smirking at you and leaning down to peck your lips before he steps away, “you’re awfully quiet, honey. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” 

Rolling your eyes at him, you scoff.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “Munson, come here.” 

Eddie walks over to him, glancing at him, Steve smirks, “she’s all yours.” 

You stare at your boyfriend, almost in shock. There have been moments where he got jealous whenever men just looked at you, here he is, giving you away to his friend like it means nothing to him. Which, you don’t actually mind because it’s Eddie. Yet, you glare at him. 

“What’s wrong?” He laughs, “you wanted to be tamed and I’m not exactly brat tamer material, isn’t that what you said?” 

Eddie looks amused by Steve’s words, he chuckles to himself as he looks at you. 

“And don’t act like you don’t think about him, we both know you do,” Steve murmurs as he sits down beside you, bringing his hand up to your face, he cradles your cheek, you still glare at him just like before but now you look flustered, clearly not wanting Eddie to know that you still think about him, “look at him.” 

You blink, shaking your head a little.

Steve’s hazel eyes flicker with mischief, lips curling up into a smirk, “you don’t want him to know that you still think about him?” 

“Steve.” 

He ignores you, “you don’t want him to know that you dream of him?” He asks as he kisses your cheek softly before he turns your head towards Eddie, forcing you to look at him, “I heard you whispering his name the other night, you know?” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise. 

You grow flustered, both men notice the way you squeeze your thighs together. 

“Is that so, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks as he steps towards you. 

You look at him through your lashes, ignoring the way he makes you feel just by looking at you with his hungry eyes. 

Steve lets go of you as Eddie places his fingers under your chin, “you dream about me, huh?” 

You scoff and roll your eyes, “you wish,” you mumble in annoyance, “I haven’t thought about you in a long time.” 

So you still wanna act like you hate him? Eddie shakes his head, laughing, “a few days is what you call a long time?” 

“Not a few days, a whole year.” 

He raises his brows, “a whole year, huh?” He asks in amusement, “that’s when you started dating Byers.�� 

You press your lips together, frowning at him and at your boyfriend who chuckles yet again. 

“He didn’t satisfy you enough? You still thought about me?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble as you raise your hand and slap his hand away. 

His eyes darken and he looks at you in a way that would leave your past self shivering but you are not the girl that you used to be, you are not the fool that was once in love with him, at least that’s what you are telling yourself. 

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” 

“You’re a depraved little slut, you know that right?” 

You shrug, licking your lips as you feel yourself getting wet at his words. 

“You’re sitting here next to your boyfriend, asking another man to fuck you,” Eddie smirks. 

“It was his idea,” you shrug, ignoring Steve’s chuckle, “maybe he wants you to fuck him too, maybe he’s a depraved slut as well, just like you Eddie.” 

Eddie raises his brows, tilting his head at you as he kneels down in front of you, his gentle hands grasping your ankles, he takes your shoes off slowly. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, “I wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to fuck other girls, not just one other girl, you wanted all of them, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want me anymore. So, who are you calling a depraved slut? You are the biggest of them all.” 

Steve glances at Eddie, noticing the regret in his eyes. 

Eddie didn’t want anyone else but you, he didn’t want any other girl, he just wanted you. The things he said to you were nothing but lies, to make you leave, for your own sake. 

The tone in your voice is masked with anger but the pain is still lingering. 

“You’re an asshole,” you say as you look deeply into his eyes, “I hate you.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, maybe his heart would hurt if he didn’t see the softness in your eyes, you don’t hate him. 

“And you’re a fucking brat. A very mean brat.” 

He gets back up after taking your shoes off, he puts his hand around your throat, watching the way your eyes widen and flash with lust, you always loved this. 

“I bet you’ve been acting like this on purpose, huh? You wanted him to put you in your place?” 

You blink, breathing faster as you look up at Eddie, well aware that Steve is staring at you with a smirk on his face. 

“Answer me,” Eddie orders. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

“Yes, what?” 

“I’ve been doing it on purpose,” you admit, your cheeks growing hot at your own words, “I wanted him to put me in my place.” 

Steve gapes at you, you never ever admit anything like this to him, you never give in, you never let him hear what he wants to hear. You only ever stop acting like a brat after he makes you cum a few times. 

You bite your lip, eyes raking over Eddie’s arm, the bracelet around his wrist, the tattoos on his arm, his shoulders that got broader. His hand around your neck, he pulls you up, forcing you to stand in front of him. 

He brings you closer until his nose bumps against yours, “poor Steve doesn’t know how to tame the brat, huh?” He whispers against your lips as his eyes remain locked with yours, “it’s okay, that’s what you have me for.” 

He kisses you softly, one last time before he rips your top off, throwing it on the ground along with your bra, taking a moment to admire your naked chest, touching your boobs and giving them both a squeeze before he turns you around and shoves you down on Steve’s bed, in front of him. 

A whimper leaves your mouth when Eddie reaches for your hips and pulls your ass up, using both hands to tear the skirt into shreds, he rips it off and throws it on the ground. 

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as do yours, you gasp, calling his name loudly. 

“What?” Eddie chuckles, “your rich boyfriend can buy you ten more of those, right?” He asks before his palm meets your ass roughly, a loud smack! echoing through the room, followed by a whiny moan. 

Steve’s eyes darken and he looks down at you to make sure that you’re okay, pushing your hair out of your face, he caresses your cheek. 

“Don’t worry, Harrington. She loves it even rougher,” Eddie murmurs as he smacks your other asscheek, “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

You moan, nodding desperately as you bite your lip. 

He chuckles as he watches you arching your back, your light pink thong is soaked already and Eddie can’t help but moan at the sight of it, he teases you, bringing his fingers up to your pussy, “who are you so wet for? Me or Steve?” 

Your boyfriend touches your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking when you look at him with pleading eyes. 

You hear Eddie shuffling around behind you, taking his belt off, you already know what he’s about to do and it only makes you feel more desperate. 

“Me or Steve?” He asks again, with more anger in his voice.

“Answer him, honey.” 

You don’t. 

You want him to take it further. 

Suddenly you jolt forward and a cry falls from your lips as you feel the leather smacking against your ass, tears well up in your eyes. 

“Dude!” 

Eddie chuckles at the shocked and angry look on Steve’s face, his body tenses up and he looks down at you with worry in his eyes. 

“M-More..” 

Steve’s eyes widen, shock ripples through him. He always knew that you were kinky, that you like it rough but not this rough. 

“Please.” 

“You see that, Steve?” Eddie murmurs as he raises his hand, using the belt to spank you again. The bulge in his pants is growing, his dick twitches at the sound of your moan, at the sight of your half naked body, “she loves it.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty, honey.” 

“Yes, she is,” Eddie groans. 

He spanks you, again and again. And even after he is done, you are still begging for more, despite knowing that your ass will hurt. Steve watches in awe and disbelief, no snarky words or comments leave your mouth, just desperate moans and whimpers. 

He swallows, your hand resting on his knee, squeezing it tightly as Eddie takes your ruined panties off and throws them at him, chuckling when he catches them and sniffs at them. 

“Perv,” you mumble as you look up at Steve with a smirk on your face. 

Eddie reaches for your waist, grabbing you tightly as he manhandles you on your back, he catches the surprised look on your face. Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground. 

For a moment, he lets himself admire you. It’s been too long since he had seen you like this. Your bare body, your soft skin, your pretty hair laying on your naked shoulders, your eyes looking into his with desperation, with a softened gaze he hasn’t seen in so long. 

You eye him up and down, you want him just like he wants you. You squeeze your thighs together, sighing when Steve starts playing with your hair, “you look so beautiful, honey.” 

“Yes you do,” Eddie whispers, he leans over you, taking the black scrunchie off of your wrist, he uses it to tie his hair back, “you are the prettiest girl.” 

Your heart flutters but at the same time, it hurts. 

You roll your eyes at his words, clearly not believing a word he says. 

“Shut up, Eddie.” 

Steve chuckles at your words, while Eddie scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels down in front of the bed, he grabs you, pulling you closer, harshly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and begins to nip at your inner thighs roughly, kissing and biting your skin before he finally tastes you again. 

His eyes flutter closed and he moans against you as he grabs your hips tighter than before, slipping his tongue into your wet pussy. 

You moan loudly, reaching into his hair, you pull at it.

“F-Fuck!” 

Eddie starts to eat you out, more intensely, more desperately than ever before. He needs you, he needs to feel you in every way possible. He grabs your ass harshly, squeezing your sensitive skin as he devours you. 

You arch your back in pleasure, feeling his tongue plunging deeper inside of you. You look down at him, eyes locking with his, you allow yourself to look at him, only for one moment before your eyes roll back and you shut them. 

You moan even louder than before when you feel Steve’s lips on your neck, his hands on your boobs, squeezing and grabbing them roughly as his fingers toy with your pierced nipples. 

Eddie’s nose bumps against your clit as he shakes his head against you, licking and eating you out like a man starved. He shows you how desperate he is to touch you again. 

So much pleasure runs through your body, the feeling is euphoric. 

“Feeling good, honey?” 

“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper. 

Steve smirks, he leans down to kiss your lips as he twists and tugs your nipple. You shut your thighs, caging Eddie in and he only moans in response. He licks a stripe up your pussy and begins to flick his tongue on your clit as he pushes a finger inside of you. 

“I missed your sweet pussy, baby.” 

Not wanting to hear any of his praises, you pull his hair harsher than before as you make out with Steve. 

Eddie groans, using his free hand to push your hand out of his hair, he slams it against the mattress and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding it against the bed. 

That is too intimate for you, you don’t hold hands with people you don’t love, Eddie doesn’t love you. 

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, kissing your clit teasingly, he glances at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, your free hand in your boyfriend's hair as you kiss him. 

His chest is filled with jealousy, you’re gentle with him, you’re soft with Steve, loving. That’s something he will never get again and it breaks his heart. 

Eddie doesn’t stop after making you cum, he only keeps going. Fucking you with his fingers, keeping the rings on because he knows how much you used to love it. He covers your thighs in hickeys, smacking your soaked cunt when you call him names. Eddie is rough with you, he devours you for both yours and his pleasure and he enjoys knowing that not even Steve can make you feel like this. 

He loves knowing that he watches you two, that he sees the way you yearn for him, the way you moan for him. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your voice sounds like music to his ears, it makes his heart flutter in his chest. 

He only stops when he feels like he might cum before he even gets to be inside of you. 

He pulls away and admires the view, watching the way you are shaking, the way your cunt flutters, glistening from your juices and his spit. Your thighs are covered in hickeys, fingerprints on your hips. 

Steve is being too soft with you, he caresses your cheek and whispers praises into your ear, as though he wasn’t the one suggesting this. Growing annoyed with the sight of it, he finally takes the rest of his clothes off and flips you over on your stomach again. 

“Sit your ass down, Harrington,” Eddie orders, gesturing to the chair in the corner, “watch and learn.” 

Steve raises his brows in surprise, his cheeks grow red and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him or you. You look smug and it only makes Steve blush harder, he rolls his eyes at you as he does what the other man told him to do. 

You lick your lips, eying the bulge in Steve’s pants, “take your cock out, Stevie,” you whine, “please.” 

Eddie chuckles behind you, you feel the bed dip under you. You swallow nervously, stomach growing tighter at the feeling of his hands on your hips, “listen to your girl, Steve.” 

Steve blinks, nodding at his words, “f-fuck.. yeah, yeah..” He stammers, unbuckling his belt hastily, he pushes his pants out just enough to take his dick out. 

You moan while Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of Steve’s dick, “holy shit, man.” 

Your boyfriend looks smug, smirking as he looks at the two of you. 

“Yeah, he is so much bigger than you, Eddie,” you tease, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your face, “makes me feel better too.” 

He glares, holding your hips tighter, “oh yeah?” He murmurs as he takes his hard cock and slips it through your wet folds until it touches your sensitive clit. 

“Ah– shit,” you whimper. 

“Touch yourself, Steve. Look at her, watch how I ruin your pretty little girlfriend, I’m gonna make her mine again.” 

You shake your head in response, wanting to protest but only whimpers leave your mouth when he pushes inside of you, splitting you open. You’re too sensitive, too overwhelmed, too weak already. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall down against the pillows. 

“Forget it,” Steve growls as he fists his cock, keeping his eyes on you, “she’s mine forever.” 

Eddie chuckles darkly, watching how you struggle to hold yourself up, you whine and moan. 

“We’ll see.” 

He pushes in deeper, placing both hands on your asscheeks, he spreads them, watching how your wet pussy takes his cock. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed, he can’t even help but grin when he feels your walls clenching around him at the sound of his moans. 

“E-Eddie,” you whine into the pillow, gripping the bed sheets tightly, “I-I… please.” 

He dreamed of this moment, he thought about you day and night while you were apart, he missed this, he missed the feeling of being inside you, of feeling your warm pussy around him, of hearing your moans, he just missed you so much. 

“Please what?” 

You are drooling all over the pillow, your eyes well up with tears and you can’t stop the whines and moans from escaping. 

“Please move, please sir.” 

“Good girl,” Eddie grunts as he squeezes your ass, he pulls out completely before he slams back inside of you roughly with a loud moan. 

“Ah– f-fuck.. your cock feels so good,” you cry out. 

“Oh yeah?” He breathes as he reaches for your hair, tugging at it to raise your head up to make you look at him. Eddie starts thrusting, rougher and rougher. “Look at him, baby.” 

Steve jerks off and fuck, he looks so good. He moans loudly, biting his lip as he moves his fist faster.

“Your pussy feels so perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, “so tight and wet for me.”

“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.” 

Your juices are slipping down your thighs, your pussy gets tighter around his cock, you feel filthy, especially when you hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as Eddie pounds you into the mattress. 

The room is filled with moans and whimpers. Tears are running down your cheeks, your body is already shaking, your next orgasm approaching. The coil in your stomach tightens as he fucks you deeper than before. 

“O-Oh fuck, stop clenching around me, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie growls. 

You squeal when you feel his hand around your throat. Suddenly, he has you pinned against his back, one hand remaining on your throat while the other roams your body, playing with your tits and sliding down your stomach. 

“Honey, you look so fucking good,” Steve grunts, moaning louder than before. He stares at you, he stares at the way Eddie’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, he watches the way tears run down your cheek, the way you hold your hand over Eddie’s, grasping it tightly as you moan louder and louder. 

Eddie kisses your shoulder and your neck, “you’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, “are you close, baby?” 

“Mhmmm,” you nod desperately, “s-so close.” 

“You wanna cum?” 

“Yes, Eddie! Please!” 

He looks over at Steve, “should I let her cum?” 

Steve nods, looking just as desperate as you, “yes, fuck.. Let her cum.” 

You feel him twitching inside of you, he is close, just like you, just like Steve. Eddie whimpers into your ear, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit, he grasps your chin, looking into your eyes before they flutter shut, “cum for me, baby,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours. 

Unlike the other kisses before, this one is soft and sweet, enough to transform tears of pleasure into tears of sadness. 

You gush around him, cumming for the last time this night. Eddie moans against you, unwillingly breaking the kiss. You push away from him, letting yourself fall back down just in time for him to pull out, with a groan, he releases all over your ass and back. 

You shut your eyes, whimpering at the sensitive feelings rushing through you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, a happy chuckle leaving his lips. 

You try to catch your breath, try to stop the tears from falling, you don’t want him to see how vulnerable you are, how hurt you still are by his past actions but you missed him so much and you feel ashamed for it because you know that this means nothing to him, just like it never meant anything to him back then. 

Your boyfriend is here, the one that you love with all your heart even when you haven’t told him yet, too scared of rejection, too scared of being pushed away by him the way you were by the other man. 

You don’t know how long you’re laying there like this but the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your skin, the feeling of him cleaning your back gently before he presses a soft kiss to your bruised ass suddenly makes you cry harder. 

Soft sobs leave your lips as all your feelings come catching up to you. 

Steve’s eyes flash with concern, he looks at Eddie, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in headlights as his face grows pale and his eyes show nothing but panic. 

Steve rushes towards you, using his throw blanket to cover your bare body, he pushes your hair to the side and touches your back softly, “honey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?” He asks in concern. 

Eddie doesn’t even bother to put his shirt on, standing there in nothing but his jeans, he stares at you as his heart begins to race. 

Steve kisses your shoulder, your arm, your knuckles and then your cheek, “talk to me, baby,” he whispers, “are you hurt?” 

Eddie puts his hand on his forehead as tears well up in his eyes, did he take things too far? Did he hurt you? 

You shake your head, “no.. I’m not, I’m okay.” 

He should feel relieved but he can’t, not when you are crying after you just had sex. 

Your glassy eyes meet the ones of your boyfriend, your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, you push yourself up a little, clutching the blanket against your chest, “d-do you love me?” 

Your voice sounds broken, small and vulnerable. 

Steve has never seen you like this. His heart squeezes in his chest and he furrows his brows, he nods, cupping your cheeks, “of course, honey. I love you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with truth, “I love you so much.” 

Your eyes flash with relief, you nod, “thank you.” 

He frowns at your words, not understanding why you are thanking him for loving you but it quickly catches up to him when he looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s tear filled and guilty ones. 

You loved him and he didn’t love you back. 

At least that’s what you believed. 

Eddie looks heartbroken, he looks sad and he looks like he hates himself because he pushed you away before. He loves you, he is in love with you. 

Eddie’s bottom lip quivers just like yours does, he blinks, trying to push the tears back as he reaches for his shirt, throwing the black material over his head. 

Steve feels a sudden longing for the man in front of him, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to leave you again. 

“I’m gonna go,” Eddie mumbles quietly. 

Steve can see the way your eyes flash with sadness, the way your body tenses. He doesn’t want you to hurt, he doesn’t want Eddie to hurt. 

Steve wipes your tears away and he looks into your eyes. You love Eddie, maybe that should scare him but it doesn’t because he knows that you love him too and that’s all that matters. 

“Don’t go.”

Eddie looks at him in confusion, “what?” 

“Please don’t go,” Steve says, “come here.” 

Eddie hesitates, he looks at the back of your head, your quiet sniffles break his heart all over again. 

“It’s okay, Eddie.” It’s okay to love her too. 

Eddie nods, walking closer to you, he looks at you with sad eyes, watching the way you clutch Steve’s hand tightly as you cry. Tears stream down your face just like they did back then. 

He sits down beside you, reaching out to touch your shoulder but you flinch away from him. 

He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for everything, for what I said. I’m sorry for lying to you.” 

Steve rubs the back of your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“Lying?” You whisper. 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I lied to you about everything that night. I didn’t want anyone else, there was never anyone else, there was no other girl, ever. You were always the only one for me, you still are.” 

You furrow your brows, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel relieved but angry at the same time. 

“Those things I said about you, I didn’t mean them. God, I was so stupid. I wanted you so bad, still do,” he says as tears run down his cheeks. 

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth. 

You still long for him the way you always did, you still want him, you still love him. 

You love them both. 

“I was always so crazy about you, fuck– it hurt so much to push you away, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

“Then why did you?” You ask in a broken whisper. 

“I didn’t want to ruin your life.” 

Your heart breaks but the anger is stronger. 

“But you did, you did ruin my life. You broke my heart.” 

Regret and guilt is what he felt for so many months after he had pushed you away but especially now that he has to look into your tearfilled eyes. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I regretted every single day,” he whispers, scooting closer to you. He reaches his hand out again, this time, you don’t flinch when he touches you, he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. 

“I love you.” 

You sniffle, more tears well up in your eyes as you finally hear those words that you have craved so bad. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 

“Y-You do?” You whisper. 

He nods, smiling as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I do.”

Steve can’t even help it, he looks down at your hand that is still holding his tightly, he smiles. 

Maybe this isn’t ideal but it works for him.

Eddie grew on him, he didn’t understand just how much he did but he doesn’t mind, especially now when he sees the happy look in your eyes, when you still hold his hand as you let Eddie wrap his arms around you. 

You bury your face in the crook of his neck and squeeze him tightly as he holds you, cupping the back of your neck and breathing in your scent. 

You are happy with him but you are even happier with Eddie back in your life, that's makes it all worth it.

As Steve watches the two of you, he knows that everything is going to be okay because at the end of the day, you all have each other. 

No more pain, no more broken hearts or any missing pieces. 

You got each other forever. 

-

tagging my faves <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69