#also this was fun! never giffed them before!

[brooksdavis]

(MY) TOP TEN ONE TREE HILL SHIPS (as voted by my followers): #10 ⎯ Nathan Scott and Lucas Scott

You sure you're up for this, old man? I could do this forever, little brother.

[dykestims]

feeding cownose rays [video by brave wilderness]

[happyendingsong]

STARDOM ☆ 7.28.24 ☆ SAPPORO WORLD RENDEZVOUS mayu acts as wingman to help hanan pin tam

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

"Did I ever tell you about my Omega casino run in with the Blue Suns, Eclipse, and the Blood Pack Vorcha mafia? Five thousand credits and a bottle of whiskey?"

Ft. Staff Cmdr. Kaidan Alenko, Operations Chief Ashley Williams, Zaeed Massani, & Seven. Dominik Shepard. Phoebus. MIRA'S MORE CANON ME1.5 "Are you Phoebus?" AKA: Pt. 1 of some of what happens between ME1 and ME2 with the Vorcha mafia storyline. :) Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

[sillyabtmusic]

(271022) long live the king - jahan focus

[entitled-fangirl]

A King in the North.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: A misunderstanding occurs between the two, resulting in Cregan doubting his ability to keep his wife happy.

Warnings: LIGHT SMUT. Fingering, anger, yelling, talks of sex, talks of cheating, making out, talks of cockwarming, ya know- the works.

A/n: this gif is so beautiful holy shit. Also- based on an ask!!

Part 2

Masterlist

......................................

"No, but in another life, I mean," She explains as she nuzzles further into his chest. 

The two sat in the Godswood and rested against the heavy bark of a tree. Cregan's cloak was wrapped around her as he tried to ignore the light scratching of the wood on his back. 

"Another life? There's no point in dreaming of one, is there? I have this life, and I am eternally grateful for it," He quietly quips, as if not to disturb the nature around them. "I'm grateful for you. I don't wish for any other life than this."

She shifts in his hold to look up at him. "But that would be spoiling the fun. I know you love me and I know you love your life. But imagine that you lived a different one- what name would you want?"

Cregan gives her a look before sighing and giving in to her whims. He drew her to him as he stared up at the sky through the canopy of branches and the occasional leaves that still remained. "I'm not sure."

"Cregan-"

"-I'm considering your question. Just let me think."

It wasn't a rude scold, more of a soft chide, an assurance that he was going through with the question. She could hear the sound of him rubbing a hand over the scruff on his face. 

"I used to be angry at my father for not naming me after his father."

It was a whispered declaration. Knowing Cregan as she did, odds are, no one else knew that about him. He never willingly threw out personal information like this, especially about his father who had died too early and left Cregan with a hole in his heart and all of the North to lead.

She reached up to lightly brush at his cheek. "Remind me his name."

Cregan hummed. "My grandfather? Benjen."

She admired Cregan from her place against his chest. 

And Cregan knew that well. He could tell from his peripheral vision that she was doing so, but he made no motion to acknowledge it. He only stared ahead at the trees and dead grass that spanned as far as the tree line would let him.

But the feeling of her light breaths against his jaw and her fingers across his cheek were almost too much to ignore. 

They had been married for a few moons now, and in that time, they had indulged themselves in the other quite well and quite often, but he still found that he could never have enough of her. 

So he dared to meet her eye.

She had a look in her eyes that he couldn't quite place. A kind that was not lustful per se, but still made his cheeks a bright red every time he saw it. 

Admiration, maybe?

Her fingers still danced across his cheek as her eyes slowly took in his face, starting with eyes and wandering down, taking extra time at his lips. "I would consider you more of a Torrhen," she admittedly so softly, he barely registered it.

A breath escaped him and his a small spark lit in his eyes. "Torrhen, you say?"

She nods, her eyes now shamelessly admiring his lips. "Yes. You could be a king, couldn't you?"

"Fu…" he trails off in a breath. His large hand grabs hers, pulling her hand down to his lips. He kisses her palm, trying not to get too caught up in the sight of her watching him do so. 

He then pulls her hand down to his chest as a way to ground the two. "Careful, sweet girl. You speak of treason so openly."

She doesn't let this go. "Few know the implications of calling you such a name."

He considers her words. "I suppose. But still." He tilts her head up to look at him. "No more talks of rulers besides our Queen. Understand me?"

"You know I only jest."

"I do. But I'd hate for such words to get to someone without understanding of your wit."

"Of course. I understand." She pushed herself up, brushing her lips against his. "Torrhen Stark."

He let out a low groan, trying to control the way his body reacted to her words. He couldn't help leaning in just enough to try to connect their lips.

She got up quickly, managing to get out of his arms due to his guard being down.

He reached out to try to grab her at the last second, but she was too quick. "Little minx."

She grinned widely, pulling the cloak around herself. "I'll see you at Winterfell."

He told himself he just didn't wish to scold her, but in all honesty, he adored the nickname. It stirred something in him.

…

A few weeks had passed since then, and winter was approaching closer by the day.

That meant Cregan had less and less time with his wife. 

It had began to wear on the poor man, the stress getting the best of him. Dark circles were always under his eyes during this time of year. 

The time away from Cregan had hurt her as well, but it showed in different ways. 

The time spent together every night was now spent apart.

He spent every night stuck at a desk with various letters and scribes around him as he began to prepare for his trek to the Wall.

She spent every night in a very different manner.

…

"My lord," A hushed voice came through the door. "My lord!"

He would usually send away whoever it was, but he hesitated this time. "Enter."

The door opened and his wife's handmaiden walked in. His full attention moved to her as he stood. She would only be here if it was something involving his wife. 

"I… Forgive me, my lord. I've not entered on hopeful circumstance."

His blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

"It's… a personal matter of my lady. She has no knowledge of my being here."

Cregan's weight shifted from foot to foot. "Speak."

"It's the fourth night now. I thought of it as nothing at first, but the fourth night now means I owe it to you to tell you."

He was growing frustrated. "Speak," he growled.

"I believe she is bringing another man into her bed, my lord."

Cregan said nothing. He was frozen, as if the northern air had finally gotten to the burly man. "W… What?"

The handmaiden had never heard the Warden of the North sound unsure of himself. It made her feel guilty for having to be the one to tell him.

"How do you know?" His broken voice asked. 

"I've heard… noises from the chambers. If it is true, my lord, the man would have to come from the balcony, for when I am not present, a guard is at least there at the door. And I've spoken to him. He says he'd never let a soul by without telling you."

He wrung his hands nervously, a trait that was foreign to him. "Leave me with my thoughts."

She lowered her head. "I am truly sorry, my lord."

"If it happens again, you are ordered to tell me."

"Of course. G'night, Lord Stark."

The door shut and Cregan slumped in his chair, an exhaustion overtaking him like never before. 

…

A few more hours passed before he couldn't find himself able to focus on the papers anymore. 

He dropped his quill down with a huff and abandoned the table completely, moving to his shared chambers. 

His hand paused on the handle of the door as he felt the pitiful look from the guard. 

He didn't want pity. 

Cregan Stark fucking hated pity. 

He threw the door open, partly hoping to see the man who was killing him from the inside out, but he was met with his side of the bed empty and a slumbering wife on her own. 

He stepped to her side of the bed, running a hand over her hair, jealous of the warmth that radiated off of her in waves. 

He shook his head and dressed for the night, fighting with himself whether to hold her closer or keep her further away.

…

The next morning, she woke up to a loud noise, prompting her to sit up in alarm. 

"Cregan?"

The man mentioned looked up from his work. "Hmm?"

"What are you doing?"

Thick boards were now being nailed into the walls of the balcony doorway, the sun barely visible through the ones already done. 

He shrugged. "Fixing something." He looked between the boards and her eyes, trying to catch something. A slip of any kind. "Is this a bother to you?"

"Well, only to my sleep." She wanted to complain and ask him to do it later in the day, but he valued what time he did have to be in the room, and she'd never ask him to change it. 

"Oh, I imagine it will be," he muttered softly and began to loudly pound another nail in.

She didn't care enough to question more of his antics, getting up and throwing a decent enough cloak over herself and leaving the room to start her day. 

Cregan's eyes followed her, and a guilt only then began to gnaw at him. 

She gave him no reaction. Nothing. She had nothing to hide, it would seem. Still, he wouldn't take the chance. 

He wouldn't let another man come in and do the one thing meant for him. Just his. 

Wardens for the North will come and go, but no one would touch her if he had any say.

Insecurity was something the Stark had never encountered before, and it terrified him.

But before he could dwell on it for too long, he forced another nail into the board.

…

Because of his earlier shenanigan, Cregan had neglected the work he needed to truly be doing, making his night even longer than it already was.

Every second filled him with more and more dread as he waited to see if her handmaiden would appear. 

And surely enough, she did.

"My lo-"

The words couldn't be uttered, the door not fully opened before Cregan threw his chalice against the wall and stormed passed the spooked woman. 

He'd kill the very man who dared to look at his wife. 

He'd kill whoever let him pass. 

He tried not to think of how angry, above all else, he was at her. 

Because that anger was only sadness, almost to the point of tears when he considered it. 

What had he done wrong? He knew his time with her was not much during the winter, but resorting to finding pleasure from another man entirely? It made him sick. 

He didn't realize how fast he was walking until he stood outside of the chamber doors. 

The guard looked at him with a grimace. It was clear that this time, Cregan was coming in at just the right time. 

He'd have to apologize to her guard for having to listen to that for so long. 

"Ah-" then a long, breathy groan sounded from beyond the door. "Oh, g- oh, Tor-"

He threw the door open, not caring for the thud or the way he worried it may come of the old hinges. 

But he freezes up as soon as he sees what laid inside of the room. 

His pretty little wife laid across the furs of their bed in one of Cregan's tunics, the fabric puddling around her due to its size. But that's not the part that caught his attention. 

It was her middle and ring fingers that she had pushed deep inside of her, her hand covered in her juices. 

Seems she had froze as well, for her hand was completely still and her eyes were now on his in a horrified expression.

His breath caught in his throat. "W-Wife?" He asked hesitantly.

She slowly pulled her fingers out of her, and Cregan felt his pants tighten. She then sat up. The tunic covered more of her than he wanted, and what wasn't, she covered by pulling her legs up. She took in a sharp breath, "Forgive me."

She was beginning to cry. 

But Cregan was still frozen. His mind was struggling to comprehend it all.

"I-" she sniffled. "I was getting so lost without your touch. I… I should have waited. A good wife would wait. Not do it all herself. That would be selfish," she looked up at him. "Wouldn't it?"

The sight of her frightened confession and shaking body snapped him back to. He pushed himself toward the foot of the bed. "I… I don't think it is," he whispered. 

He tried to ignore her fingers as they fiddled with the strings at the top of the tunic. 

"You looked so angry."

He gritted his teeth and looked back at the door, as if he could see the event that happened only moments before. "I was."

"At me," she clarified.

"No," he chastised. But this didn't clear everything up. He forced himself to not get lost in her pitiful eyes. "Whose name was that on your lips?"

"Hmm?" She seemed lost, as if he had asked a stupid question. 

His head ticked to the side. "Don't do that. Whose name was that?"

"Yours," she said as if it was obvious. 

"Don't lie," he growled. He couldn't help it as much as he tried. His heavy steps moved him to around the bed to her side now. "Look at me."

She forced her head up, tears now streaming down her face. 

"Whose. Name. Do you moan. When I'm away?"

"Yours," she began to sob. "I only think of you!"

His anger only grew. He grabbed her jaw and leaned over her. It was an impending sight to see such a large man tower over a smaller woman in her bed. "I'll give you one more chance before I give up entirely. I'll not have a marriage built of lies."

"Cre-" she hiccuped. "Cregan, you're frightening me."

"I know, but I need the truth."

She now understood the fear in the eyes of his enemies when Cregan entered a room. 

He was a frightening sight when he wished to be.

"If you didn't like the name, you should have said so," she whispered.

It clicked in his mind. 

Fuck. 

He pulled away as if burned, and stalked to the doorway, poking his head out to the guard. "Tell me the name you've heard these last nights."

"I-I believe it was Torrhen, my lord."

"Fuck!" Cregan yelled out to no one in particular. 

He brought his head into his hands, making himself take deep breaths. 

"You're dismissed for the night."

"My lo-"

"Get. Out."

Cregan shut the door, softly the time. 

He turned to see the woman bawling on the furs of their shared bed. "I owe you more apologies than my words can describe."

She shook her head, her clean hand wiping back and forth, trying to keep the tears at bay. "Don't. I was selfish. I'm a horrid wife to you."

"I'm not angry at you," he persisted. 

She paused and looked up at him. "What then?"

"They told me you were unfaithful to me, and I panicked. And all this time you've-" He sighed. "You've only been busy with yourself."

When she said nothing, he continued. "Moaning the name of another man?" He chuckled lightly, "Another man, my arse." He looked down at her, seeing that the tears were beginning to stop. He grabbed her other hand, only still barely wet with her moisture, and he cursed at the sweet thought of what he had truly walked in on. "Do these pleasure you as well as I can?"

She shook her head. 

He nodded. "I can imagine. You should have only asked, my love."

"You're busy-"

"And you can keep me company," he teased as he sat down next to her. He nipped at her ear, "You can always rest on my cock while I work."

She let out a gasp at that, her hiccups now moving into small laughs.

"Would you do that?" He tried again. "Would you warm my cock while your king works?"

His words were beginning to have an effect on her. 

"Hmm?" He asked, trying for an answer. "Would that keep such an eager woman at bay? I need an answer from you, sweet girl."

Her mouth opened a few times, only to close again. Finally, she only nodded.

"Good. Now, if you decide to forgive me- Make yourself decent and join me, hmm? You'll find that your king may request your presence if you take too long."

He could see the light come back to her eyes. 

"I'll be waiting," he said as he kissed her temple and moved out of the room. 

...........................................

A/n: a part 2 is in order 👀

Edit: Here's part 2!!!

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver, @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom, @dozcan123, @wangjiangelangel, @kamitargaryen, @aegonswife, @lv7867, @helpmedecideaname

[nightmare-niko]

Pretty When You Cry [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]

pt. 2

Word Count: 1916

Warnings: manhandling, kinda munch! Charlie, one slap, mean! Dom Charlie, blasphemy (they fuck in the church😬)

A/N: not my gifs! I have the originals reblogged on my page😘 this was actually already being written and then I got an anon request for basically exactly what I was already writing!! Hope ya like it hehe 🙃 i also dont really ever write like this kind of smut so i hope i did good!!

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

You weren't a religious person by any means. But staying the night at your parents had you up early, trying to find the most church-appropriate outfit. of course, your parents failed to tell you that they were planning on bringing you along to church. Your skirt was a bit too short. But it is not like you had room to complain with such short notice!

You remember going to high school with Father Charlie— or as you knew him Charlie. The two of you didn't run with the same crowds-- but you knew each other.

Now, here you were. Paying no attention to the words coming from his mouth and all attention to how good he looked. Damn-- maybe you should have shot your shot years ago when he was a personal trainer.

As you watched him at the head of the room, you allowed your mind to wander.

One extremely long and boring sermon later, you stand awkwardly behind your parents as they talk to what Seems like every member of the church. God how you regret agreeing to come-- It's not like you knew anyone here- none of your friends went to church. But here you were, being judged by middle-aged churchgoers. How fun.

The sound of your name being called catches your attention.

You whip your head around to the noise, "Father Charlie!" The name is unnatural as it falls from your lips. You quickly look at your parents- too engrossed in a conversation. “It's been a while!" You awkwardly step closer to the man.

He hums, "It has been, hasn't it? The first time in the church as well.”

“Well, you know...” You gesture back to your parents.

"I'm assuming this wasn't on your schedule.” He looks you up and down, “Given your attire.”

You gasp sharply, heat rising to your face as you pathetically try to pull your skirt down. "I-uh,” you try to think of an excuse, "I didn't pack any pants..." You lie-- lying in a church is one thing but to the priest?

If Charlie sensed your lie he didn't comment on it. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today's sermon.”

"I did!" You lie again, a little too enthusiastically.

Charlie narrows his eyes at you, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" His voice is playful.

"No, I was not," You quickly confess.

He laughs, you have to fight to not stare shamefully at his beautiful face for too long. "That's odd— because when I looked at you, you looked very focused," He teases.

“I wasn't paying attention to your voice. Just your fa-" you stop in your tracks. Utterly petrified at the situation you have just found yourself in. His eyebrows raise in surprise at your slip-up. “I mean I didn't even know that you could see me in that crowd-- I-I- just figured that-”

“That every time we locked eyes it wasn't on purpose?” he finishes your thought.

You nod pathetically, your shoes suddenly extremely interesting.

Charlie takes a step towards you, the proximity making you look up at the man. Has he always been that tall? "I want you to go into my office and wait for me.” His voice is a seductive tone you have never heard him use before. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“But what about my parents?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.

“Dont worry about them,” he assures before walking away. Leaving you standing alone— stunned.

To say you were terrified was an understatement. Sure, you weren't in any danger-- at least you didn't think so. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? Here you sat, in a priest's office. Surrounded by biblical Imagery. And you were 99% Sure you were soaked through your cotton panties, you didn't care. No one but you was going to know... right?

Five minutes turned to ten. You sat anxiously in the chair across from Charlie's desk. A clock on the wall ticked away obnoxiously. You had figured when you walked in it would take him a while for him to return. how long should you wait? Has he forgotten that you were sitting in his office, impatiently waiting? You didn't dare to snoop, or even scroll on your phone. Charlie said to wait for him, and that's what you would do.

For thirty minutes you're alone in that office. you straighten your posture when you hear the clicks of Charlie’s boots nearing. The sound of the door opening makes you flinch pathetically. You don't dare turn around. Eyes glued on the desk in front of you.

Charlie is silent as he moves around behind you. Your pulse pounds in your throat at the anticipation.

“You seem nervous.” You tense at his voice, still refusing to turn around and face the man.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “I am nervous, Father.” You press your thighs together in an atempt to find some sort of relief to your throbbing center.

He groans quietly from behind you, “look at me.”

Like a magnet your head whips around to look at the man. His sharp gaze made your breath hitch. You felt hazy as he stepped towards you. Your eyes locked on his as he comes to stand right in front of you. Your breath quickens when he captures your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger.

Charlies predatory gaze on you deepens, his lips curling into a smirk, "you--" he rubs the lipstick on your mouth, smudging it. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”

You bat your eyelashes up at him, “I don't know what you mean, Father.”

He grips the sides of your face harshly, cheeks smushing together into a pout. “Showing up to my church dressed like a slut—” he spits, “shamlessly eyefucking me the whole time like you were the only one in the room.”

You whimper at his words— he was right of course. But that didn't stop your face from flushing in embarrassment.

“Now look at you. Slut. Sitting before me like a doe as if you didn’t wait in my office hoping I would come in here and fuck you like the whore that you are.”

You moan shamelessly when he lets go of your face, while your whole body was screaming at you to submit to the man before you. You could help but push his buttons just a little bit further.

“You know for a priest you sure do have a filthy mouth—” His eyes narrow on you as you speak. “im such a slut but here you are hard in your pants over a damn mini skirt.” If looks could kill, you’d surely be dead. You needed more.

You open your mouth to speak again. But before you could even get a sound out, Charlie strikes his large hand across your cheek. You moan again, “fuck!”

Wordlessly, he turns to the desk before you. You watch curiously as he haphazardly pushes the clutter on his desk onto the floor. Your hands tremble in anticipation as you watch him bound towards you. He effortlessly picks you up from the chair you sat on, as if a reflex you cross you’d ankles behind his back as his hands greedily grip your thighs and ass.

He gently places you on the recently cleared off desk. A stark contrast to the way he effortlessly hoisted you from your seat. You attempt to grind down in the wooden desk under you for some kind of stimulation, but Charlie’s grip stops you.

“So impatient,” he purrs. He captures your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. You whine at the loss of him, but you don’t have to worry for long as his hands greedily grasps at your skirt, tearing at your legs. He leaves you with one last opened mouth kiss as he begins to trail wet kisses down your neck.

He mumbles something you can’t quite hear. But you don’t really care when he sinks to his knees, his strong hands prying your legs open. He trails more kisses to your inner thigh all the way up to your core. He licks a stripe over your soaked through panties, your legs try to close but his hands are holding your thighs open. His eyes lock on yours as he pulls them down your legs, the speed agonizing as you whimper. In a second his lips are back on you, his wet kisses up your thighs driving you mad.

“Charlie,” You thread your hand through his hair as he bites and licks at your heat like a starved man.

He mumbles a quick “no,” as he pulls away from you. His chin slicked and shiny from you. The scene is pornographic, if you had a camera you’d take a picture. He fumbles with his belt buckle and throws it to the side, the metal clanking to the floor loudly. You shamelessly stare as he stands back up, towering over you again he gets close enough that you feel his breath on your face.

“Look at you,” he tuts. You lurch forward— pulling him into a greedy, filthy kiss. When he moans into your mouth it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard. Pushing you back into the desk, once again he’s muttering something, a prayer. You paw at his zipper and he lazily watches you has you pull out his angry cock.

“Please?” You beg, tears welling up in your eyes from sheer sexual frustration.

“Since you asked so nicely~” he steals a quick kiss before dragging his leaking tip through your folds.

He pushes into you fully in one smooth motion. Your back arches up off of the desk, wood painfully digging into your spine. You didn’t care— all you cared about was him.

Fast sharp deep thrusts have you screaming as the sounds of skin ring throughout the office. You curse- throwing your arms over your head. Charlie’s mouth gaping while he groans, pressing and thrusting himself into you.

"Just, like that, oh.. god." You wail as he slams himself into your g spot repeatedly.

Charlie greedily paws at your clothed breasts as his hips slap into yours. You clench around him— you can already feel your orgasm building from the rough pace set. Charlie’s hips stutter from your action and you clench again. A low groan leaves his beautifully shaped lips as he digs his fingers into your hips.

You moan— you try to form words but Charlie feels so good inside of you that your brain feels like mush. He seems to be able to tell your close however by the way his thumb reaches down to rub sloppy circles onto your clit.

Your vision turns white as you come undone. Your nails dig into the desk below you as Charlie chases his own release. He leans down, pressing kisses into your cheeks and necks, unlike the kisses before; these are gentle and caring. You hiss when he pulls out of you, missing the feeling of him inside you immediately.

“How much convincing will it take for you to come to next weeks service?” He breathily laughs against the side of your face.

“If it’s gonna end like this again— none at all.”

♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[chirpingchorus]

chirp

(long and silly rant in tags so maybe don't open them if you're scrolling at a leisurely pace)

[pathologicalreid]

not that kind of movie | S.R.

movie night takes an interesting turn - for the better, definitely

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: the movie in question is metropolis, fingering, soft dom!spencer, i really don't know that there's anything else, kissing, they probably fucked after this, very slightly proofread, if this is incoherent let's just pretend it is. word count: 1.45k a/n: just a fun little fic i typed out tonight. also chip taylor gif spotted. i'm so tired i have nothing else to say for myself.

If you were being entirely honest with yourself, you were struggling to keep your eyes open during the movie.

As a result of a very intense rock, paper, scissors game, Spencer had been the one to choose the movie that you watched tonight. The movie he had chosen just so happened to be in a foreign language – German – that your boyfriend was attempting to learn. Your lack of German comprehension combined with the black-and-white film put you in a rough spot, you were in serious danger of falling asleep on the couch.

Spencer wouldn’t hold it against you if you did happen to drift off, but it felt rude. He never fell asleep during any of your film selections, and just because you didn’t understand the content didn’t mean you couldn’t respect the cinematography of the old-timey dystopian. “Are you falling asleep?” He whispered, adjusting the blanket that had been tossed over the two of you so that you were fully covered.

Shaking your head stubbornly, “No, ‘m watching the movie,” you insisted, prying your eyes open to focus on the screen in front of you and trying to figure out who was Freder and who was Joh.

“Good, keep watching,” Spencer said softly before pulling at your legs, leaving them draped across his lap as his fingers ghosted over the waistband of your pajama shorts. He looked over at you and in the dark of the living room, you were grateful he couldn’t see the flush of your cheeks. “Watch the movie,” he murmured, moving to trail his fingers up your thigh.

Your breathing hitched as his hand stopped, and as he started to massage the inner part of your thigh, you let your head fall to the side. “You’re distracting me,” you protested, smiling despite yourself while his fingers moved closer and closer to your core.

He hummed in response, “I thought this could help you stay awake,” he offered knowingly.

“Can’t hurt to try,” you concurred happily, extremely content with the turn of events that your movie night had taken – even if Metropolis wasn’t that kind of movie. You sighed as Spencer’s fingers deftly nudged your shorts to the side, using his hand to rub you over the flimsy fabric of your underwear.

In your periphery, you watched Spencer turn his attention back to the movie, his lips moving as his brain translated the words as they came from the speakers.

Taking a deep breath, you looked back at the television, your brain was fuzzier than ever, but at least now you were enjoying yourself, “Spence,” you whimpered, wanting more of him.

To your chagrin, his movements slowed, “Shh, watch the movie,” he told you, “You have to pay attention, or I’ll stop.”

You groaned before turning your head, watching the fuzzy black and white screen as robots started to take over and you realized you had no idea what the plot of this film was, “Please don’t stop,” you breathed, gasping when his fingers pushed your panties off to the side. You considered offering to take your shorts and underwear off, but you were too afraid of him stopping to even bring it up.

The volume of the movie was barely loud enough to cover up the soft, breathy noises that came from you as Spencer trailed his index finger up your slit before settling his hand on you, the elastic of your panties keeping his hand close as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You bit your lip to keep quiet as he started to move his thumb in slow, tantalizing circles, a small chuckle coming from him as your hips bucked up involuntarily, “Poor baby,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Feels good,” you mumbled, trying to keep from closing your eyes and just focusing on the pleasure you were receiving. “More,” you beckoned, taking a chance and flickering your eyes over to where he was sitting. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was simply enraptured with the film instead of having some sort of anti-staring contest while playing with you on the couch.

Not making any move to change what he was doing, Spencer seemingly ignored you, “You’ll get there, angel. I’ll let you come in a bit.”

With the promise of an orgasm in your near future, you decided you could toughen out the remainder of the film. This would be true if he would do anything but drag his thumb in annoyingly slow circles around your clit.

Resigning yourself to another thirty minutes of torture, you focused back on the screen, where you had definitely missed an important plot point. You had no idea when they ended up underground, “Ah!” You said, clamping your hand over your mouth as Spencer had decided to slip his index finger inside of your cunt, “Fuck, Spence,” you said, voice muffled by your own palm.

“Uncover your mouth,” Spencer told you, too far away to move your hand on his own, “I like to listen to you.”

His words sent your stomach into a flurry of somersaults, only spurred on by the calculated movements of his finger as it slipped deeper into you, knuckle by knuckle, until your warm walls wholly enclosed his finger. “Jesus,” you breathed, moaning as his hand moved, slipping his digit in and out of you with ease.

A strained breath from your boyfriend told you that he was having a hard time holding himself back, but at some point, he had dedicated himself to dragging this out. “You’re doing so well, just keep watching,” he appeased, “the movie’s almost over.”

You weren’t entirely sure you believed him until he sunk his finger back into you, using his fingertip to swirl around your inner walls, hitting a spot that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Mm,” you whined, “that’s nice.”

“Yeah?” He asked knowingly, “You like letting me touch you on the couch? All splayed out and pretty for me?”

Not that you’d ever admit this to him, but you sometimes thought he could make you come just from his words alone. Of course, that information would not be used to your benefit, “Yes,” you answered, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed, “Yeah, baby.”

Spencer hummed and your breath caught in your throat as a second finger slipped inside of you, joining the other one in its crusade to bring you to an orgasm, “That was a good answer.” His words did nothing to slow your racing heart, any thought of the movie was a distant memory as all it did was provide a slight glow around the living room.

Afraid of finishing before the conclusion, you reached down and grabbed Spencer’s wrist as his fingers continued their taunting rhythm, but it felt so good, and he was taking such good care of you, that you couldn’t stop his ministrations.  

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked making note of the way your hand gripped his wrist, continuing his movements when you assured him you were okay, “Oh,” he murmured, voice dripping in mock pity, “Do you wanna come?”

You nodded despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, writhing on the couch as you mumbled an affirmation and gasping when his thumb returned to its home on your clit, resuming the slow circles from before and slowly driving you toward insanity as your orgasm built in your lower belly, “Spence, ‘m gonna…” your voice trailed off as he continued to touch you, the volume of the film rising with your moans.

Not allowing his movements to falter, Spencer focused more of his energy on you, “You can come, baby. It’s alright,” he said, watching you fall apart on his fingers as he rambled on, “There you go, honey.” His fingers slowed to a stop as you caught your breath, just for it to hitch again as his fingers withdrew from your wet heat.

As the world came back into tune, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position and looked at the now black screen. Humming, you shifted over to Spencer, settling yourself in his lap, one knee on each side of him, you tilted your head to the side and smiled at him.

“Did you like the movie?” He whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before moving back.

You nodded, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, trailing a line of kisses along his jaw line, “One of my favorites,” you murmured against the soft skin of his neck.

Spencer laughed softly at your answer, “Yeah? What was your favorite part?”

Grinning in the dark, you moved your lips up to his ear, “The end.”

[olivianott]

BRAIN CHEMISTRY

Tell me I’m not the only one happily not recovered from the deatheatertok (yes that’s why I’ve been MIA😬) and the Lorenzo Zurzolo gifs from the other day? 😭 I could not help myself with this one.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION, OCTOBER CAME EARLY TO ME.

ꕤ 1.6k words 

ꕤ deatheater!Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ warnings: toxic ex, deatheater Theodore, pure smut, unprotected sex, explicit content, not for minors, 18+

ꕤ all characters are adults

You knew you were in trouble. That you fucked up. You somehow found yourself at a party in an unknown manor. You and your friend got talking with some people at a pub and now you are surrounded by glimmering Death Eater masks. Everyone is acting as if they are just having fun at a party. But you see their eyes following the two of you everywhere. 

You already know what is going on at these parties. You heard stories, awful stories, from him. You wonder if he is in attendance. No. Stop thinking about him, he didn’t want you anymore. He is one of them after all. 

You try to think of a way out for you and your friend. Get drinks, but don’t drink them, discreetly inch towards the entrance while smiling and acting like you’re having the time of your life, getting through the door and the few steps over the anti-apparition wards and poof, you’re both safe. 

That was the plan. Everything went smoothly, until just before getting through the door, your path is crossed by a tall Death Eater with an overly decorated mask. “Hello, beautiful.” He says while you watch your friend successfully execute the plan and disappear with a crack. 

You turn around and try to escape the lewd gaze of the big Death Eater, but there is another one in your path and you realize you are surrounded. Fuck. This is not good. No, don’t panic, don’t panic.

You panic.

Your vision starts to blur and you can’t seem to think straight. Heart in your throat, the ground becomes unsteady. Another mask enters your field of vision, too close to your face. This mask looks elegant, not overly decorated, but with artistic lines strategically curved around the planes of the artificial face. He grabs you by the upper hand and starts to drag you away from the crowd that formed around you, barking something to the other Death Eaters. You try to fight him off but it’s not working, his grip tightens and when you don’t stop, he loses patience with you and puts his wand under your chin. It doesn’t hurt but the threat makes you tremble in fear.

The man leans down next to your ear and hisses: “STOP IT.” The voice is so hard and threatening but at the same time familiar. 

You momentarily freeze and that gives him time to drag you through the hall and into a bedroom. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

He closes the door after you and you finally have time to compose yourself, because he goes to the other side of the room, leaving you alone. While he locks the room with his wand, your mind clears slowly. You suddenly realize why the voice is so familiar. 

Theodore Nott. 

You’ve never seen him in his Death Eater robes and a mask before, but now you can’t stop looking at him. 

Theodore turns around, throws his mask on the bed, and stalks to you so fast, you actually step back in fear until your back is against the door. “Why the fuck are you here?!” He spits in your face, his eyes are feral and full of anger but also fear. 

“It was an accident, my friend thought it would be a good idea to-“ 

“To what? To enter a devil’s lair full of fucking Death Eaters that enjoy killing too much and don’t ask for permission to do anything? Don’t you fucking know what’s going on at these gatherings? Fucking hell!” He is talking quietly but with so much anger, you can actually feel his magic vibrating between you. 

“What’s it to you? You’re one of them now, you look like you’re right at home at this vile party, huh?” 

“Do you really think I like it? That I wanted this? Do you even know where you are?”

“In some nasty pureblood’s manor?”

“Yes. Welcome to the Nott manor.” His sarcastic smile falls off his face as he looks down and backs off of you, finally letting you breathe air. 

Oh. Nott manor. It’s his home. 

“Are you actually hosting this party?”

“Well, as I said, those people don’t ask permission for anything, so here we are. But now you are here and you made this night even more difficult for me. They have set their eyes on you now and they are hungry, in more ways than one. The Death Eaters need their food, and they like to play with it before eating.” 

He says this so matter of factly it takes a while for your mind to catch the whole truth of what you’ve casually walked into tonight. 

“You’re a Death Eater too now.”

“Exactly.” He smirks. 

You’ve missed him so much. His scent brings back memories, and you feel your body heat up despite his arrogant behavior and attempts to scare you off.

“What- what are you going to do to me?” You say breathlessly. Without your permission, your mind shows you pictures of you and him from the past, the little bit of fear just heightening your excitement. 

“Oh please, you know I’m not like-“ he stops himself mid-sentence and focuses his glare on your throat, pulsing with blood rushing through you, your red cheeks, your trembling hands, the rise and fall of your chest. 

“Now I remember.” His mouth curves in this arrogant smirk and his eyes look mischievous at the same time as dangerous. 

“You like danger… you like being scared, amore? Does it turn you on? Tonight you bit more than you could chew though, princessa. And now…. You are trapped in here. With me.” 

You can’t respond to him, but your body does. Your breathing gets more labored and you can’t help your gaze falling to his lips. 

His hand starts roaming down your body while again hovering over you, leaning against the door, the height difference between you more obvious than ever. 

“I- uhh…-“ you are unable to say more. But you close the distance between you and crash your lips against his. 

Theodore groans loudly, takes both your hands in his, and slams them against the door above your head. 

“Oh princessa, you don’t know what you just started, do you?” His hard kisses resume and your mind is filled up with sensations. 

The feel of his body against yours, the hardness of the door digging into your back, his teeth biting your lips, dragging against your throat, his lips sucking on your pulse point. 

Your eyes are closed, but you feel your feet leave the ground as Theodore picks you up and sends you flying on the bed. While crawling over you on the bed, he picks up his mask and puts it on his face. 

Fuuuuck. 

You can barely see his eyes staring down at you from behind the mask, in between the short strands of hair falling down around it. 

The world is a blur now, clothes start flying off of you, his hands tracing your curves. Suddenly he loses patience and flips you over, on your hands and knees on the bed. With his hand under your chin, he makes you look up. A mirror. Your moan is embarrassingly loud. The vision of him in his mask behind you, admiring you through the mirror, hand grabbing your throat… you’ve never seen anything hotter. With his other hand he traces your wetness and groans into your ear: “So ready for me princessa, you really do get turned on with fear and danger. How nasty of you. Was this your plan all along? To get fucked by a Death Eater?”

You can only manage to shake your head no, since he is already opening his Death Eater robes and taking out his beautiful cock. 

“I bet you were hoping to find me here, right? Wanted to make me take you back? Make sweet love and be together forever?“ He chuckles condescendingly at that thought. „Look at you now, writhing under me, dying for me to fuck you like this, with my mask on. Scream for me, princessa.” You can’t see the expression on his face since he is wearing his mask but his words are so degrading and harsh. And still, your eyes roll back into your head. 

And you do scream for him, you can’t help it, you are overwhelmed with sensation, his hands, his cock, his scent. After a while, your arms give out and he pushes your chest down into the bed, holding your hands crossed behind your back, you can’t even move. You are completely at his mercy and the feelings in your head are so confusing. You feel pathetic, under him like this, your body getting rocked by his trusts, but still, the way his cock feels inside you, the way he seems so powerful and in control of you and your pleasure with the way he manipulates your body and mind creates a fog inside your brain. Surrounded by his grunts, you realize he is using you for his satisfaction, seemingly oblivious and uncaring about your comfort or pleasure. You being completely naked, with your face in the mattress while he is still fully clothed behind you is just another layer of the humiliation. But your fucked up brain makes you love it so much that with his whimpery moans in your ear you finally lose control as you feel him lose the rhythm and push all the way inside you, so incredibly deep,  as he spills himself inside you. 

There is no cuddling after. He unceremoniously pulls out and sits in his bed propped up against the headboard, a trembling hand bringing a cigarette to his mouth, while you try to find your clothes and dignity on the floor. 

“Nice show. You were loud enough, so now they know you’re mine and hopefully leave you alone. Doesn’t change anything between us though. You can use the floo to get out of here and I hope to never see you at these things again, you understand me?” He says all of this so coldly and without even looking at you at all, so you quickly throw on your clothes and leave through the floo, throwing a “you’re still the same asshole” at him over your shoulder. 

Sitting on your sofa two days later, you are replaying everything that happened that day in your head. Your brain keeps getting stuck on the fear in his eyes when he dragged you to the room, a shaking cigarette in his hand after the sex, a slight tremble in his voice while he kicked you out of the manor after fucking you into oblivion. 

Maybe everything is not as he wants you to believe. He saved you from them after all. 

As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it. I’m not done with deatheater!Theo though 🤭.

moodboard

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚ Your principessa ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾. ‧₊˚

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

If you need more death eater Theodore 😌

[wandaslovey]

𝒽𝒾𝒹𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓀

➺ mommy!wanda x reader

not my gif

wc ~ 1.9k

cw: fluff that turns into smut, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving)

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

you have your hand clasped over your mouth to try and silence your breathing. you inhale slowly through your nose, willing yourself to get a grip on yourself.

“5…”

“4…”

“3…”

“2…”

“…1”

you hear wanda reach the end of her countdown, her voice raising half an octave as she calls out the number one.

“alright little dove, here i come..” she calls out in a sing song voice. her tone was tantalizing and teasing, only heightening your excitement and adrenaline as you hide in the big cabinet built into the kitchen island.

“now where, oh where, is my little one hiding…”

you can barely hear her footsteps as she walks through the first floor of the house, her voice sounding a little muffled and far away from where she was currently standing.

“are you going to make it harder for mommy this time? you know it’s never very fun when you just let me win,” she taunts, her voice sounding a little bit closer than before. you hear her throw open the pantry door, her first guess as to where you might be hiding. she makes a small noise that sounds like approval. “oh good, not here in the pantry. looks like you learned your lesson from last time… although, i think you wanted me to catch you in there.. you didn’t even struggle, not even a little.” her voice was wicked and teasing. she loved to taunt you. you hear her walk closer to your hiding spot. you hug your knees tighter against your chest, your heart running a hundred miles per hour.

“are you in.. here?” she calls, opening the door to the supply closet adjacent to the kitchen. “hmm..crafty little dove. i swore i heard you here rustling around.” she shuts the closet door. you breath out a small sigh of relief, thinking maybe you really did outsmart her this time. you lean your head back, miscalculating your position inside the already small space, the sound of your head hitting the wood resounding through the otherwise quiet kitchen.

you hear wanda make a mock gasp of surprise and you instantly straighten up in your hiding spot, your arms wrapped so tightly around your legs as if you hugged them tight enough, it would protect you from being found.

she walks around the kitchen island, chuckling to herself as she kneels in front of the cabinet you were hiding inside. “malen’kaya ptichka…nowhere to run, my darling.” she pauses and then all at once, throws the cabinet doors open, a victorious grin on her face. “aha! there you are.. how did you fit inside here malyshka?” she marvels, looking around the enclosed space that normally houses the pots and pans. you look at her, your expression that of a bashful child who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“i..i moved them..” you stutter out in a small voice. your were a bit breathless, your cheeks a little flushed from the adrenaline currently coursing through your body.

“oh? before we even started playing? you sneaky little thing… you planned this didn’t you?”

your cheeks blush a deeper shade of pink as you nod your head, a cheeky little smile threatening to crack across your face at your own innovativeness.

“hmm, very clever little dove.. but it’s time to come out now. mommy’s found you, and now she wants to claim her prize…” her voice is alluring and for a second you contemplate obeying, but figure it would be more fun if she forcibly removed you from your hiding place. you make a show of resting your back against the wall of the cabinet, settling yourself as if to get comfortable in your spot. “don’t want to..” you say stubbornly, your chin jutting out.

“what do you mean ‘you don’t want to’? .. you’re really going to make mommy pull you out?” her eyes glaze over with a mixture of amusement and sternness. she always did find your cheeky attitude endearing, but she also had to keep you in line. she wouldn’t ever let you forget your place. you nod your head in silent response to her question, your face fixed in faux determination (it was really just stubbornness).

“oh really? you’re not going to like it if i do..” she warns, scooting her kneeling form closer to the opening of the cabinet. even though it was futile, you try your best to worm your way back into the corner, scooting away from her small advance.

“did you just scoot away from me? you’re such a brat. come…here,” she grunts gently as she reaches in and pulls you out of your corner mid sentence. as she drags you out, she picks you up, intent on setting you on the countertop. you fight against her hold half-heartedly, not really trying as you wanted to get caught in the first place. “it was a clever spot, i’ll admit. but don’t think you won’t have to put all that kitchenware back after i’m done with you.” she ignores your protests and sets you on top of the counter nudging your thighs open so she can stand between your legs.

“mommy wants easier access,” she offers as a brief explanation. “access to what?” you ask meekly, feigning ignorance as you easily slip into your roll as her innocent little girl. “to what?” she echoes, her voice dropping an octave. “do you even need to ask, milaya?” she then leans in, capturing your lips with hers as she plants not one or two, but three chaste kisses on your lips, humming against them as she does so. her hands resting just above your bent knees slide up your naked thighs, pushing your already short dress even higher. you squirm under wanda’s attention, which doesn’t go unnoticed by her.

“mm, someone’s getting a little squirmy.” she pulls back briefly, admiring the sight of you already slowly unraveling. she leans back in, kissing you again. “fuck, you taste good,” she moans softly into your mouth, one of her hands squeezing your soft thighs. you whimper, your panties quickly becoming wet with her ministrations. she tuts and pulls away.

“awwh, what’s the matter sweetheart?” you whine at her feigned ignorance, your legs kicking out petulantly. “you’re being mean..” her face twists into a fake sympathetic frown. “mean? i have no idea what you’re talking about. you like mommy’s kisses, don’t you?” her hand then slips under the very bottom of your dress, her fingers grazing over your panties. you frown, wriggling backwards away from her as she continues to tease you. she chuckles at your silly little attempt to escape her, her hands already hooking under the backs of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of the countertop. “come back here..” her eyes were darkening, flecks of green only visible here and there between the blackness. you can feel your own slickness now dripping onto your thighs, your panties already soaked through. with your legs open around wanda’s frame, you could both smell a hint of your arousal.

“don’t think you’re going anywhere.. mommy played your little game and found you, and now.. mommy’s..going..to..devour you…” she speaks slowly, emphasizing each word as she leans down until your lips are pressed together. she kisses you passionately, her desire for you evident in the kiss. her tongue slips into your mouth, forcing it open as she dominates the kiss. her teeth then bite into your bottom lip, her fingers hooking onto your panties. you moan, feeling her teeth tug on your bottom lip before releasing it. she fights with the material of your panties for a moment, your position on the counter making it difficult to take them off. she groans in frustration before bunching the material together at one side and ripping them off forcefully. you gasp in surprise, her sudden roughness catching you a little off guard. she quickly discards the soiled material, tossing it to the side. your legs press against her sides, your cunt dripping and aching for her touch. she mashes her lips against yours once more, her fingers dragging along your inner thigh before sliding to your core to feel your wetness. she hums her approval, the vibrations lightly tickling your lips. her thumb swirls around your clit a few times as two more of her fingers tease your entrance, gliding up and down your opening. she pulls away from your lips panting, hardly taking a second to breathe before she’s leaning down and her mouth is on your cunt. she licks a firm stripe up your dripping slit, her mouth closing around your clit as she sucks it into her mouth. you moan, your body arching into her face as your hands desperately grasp at the edges of the countertop. your legs threaten to close at the sudden intense stimulation. “nuh uh, you be a good girl and keep these legs open for me, hm?” her tongue swirls and prods at your pussy, never letting up for a second no matter the volume of your squeaks and whimpers. she then thrusts her tongue into your hole, effectively fucking you with it. she occasionally abandons the motion but only to swipe her tongue back up to your sensitive little nub. she shakes her head back and forth, all but moaning into you as she, well… devours you.

you feel that familiar coil in your belly, your hips steadily rutting against her face. her hands hold your hips firmly, her fingernails sure to leave crescent shaped marks once she finally lets you go. “ahh- mommy! i’m gonna cum! fuck- i wanna cum! please!” you whine, your hips bucking more wildly as you chase your high. she chuckles darkly against you, the sound muffled with her head stuffed between your legs. you can hear the embarrassingly wet sloshing sounds as she laps at your drenched pussy. she ignores your pleas, knowing you won’t cum until given permission. “mommy- mommy please! let me cum!” you could feel the coil about to snap and you knew that unless she stopped, you were going to cum without her permission. “cum for me, pretty girl. cum for mommy.” she encourages, her hands still squeezing your hips to try and still your erratic movements. at last, you allow yourself to fly over the edge, the coil finally snapping as you cum all over her pretty face. her hands hold you firmly, her tongue not letting up until she was sure she dragged out every possible morsel of pleasure from you. you whimper and whine, her tongue slowly licking up your now overstimulated cunt. “too much mama…too sensitive,” you mewl, your hands gently pushing against her head.

she hums, placing one final kiss on your clit before taking your hands in hers and kissing them both. she straightens up, standing before you with a satisfied smile on her face. she places a quick kiss against your lips before helping maneuver your body so you dress was back over your bum, now covering your unclothed center. “thank you mommy..” you murmur gently as you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her close. “for what, honey?” she tilts her head, unsure what you were thanking her for. “for loving me like you do..” you smile cutely at her, your head slightly bowed as you peak up at her through your lashes.

“oh detka, we’re just getting started…”

[boypied]

CALL ME DADDY.

pairings: eric dane x male reader

summary: Eric comes back from his daily job to find his slightly younger boyfriend jerking off to his mc streamy scene, Eric wants to recreate it for him.

requested by: mailmango

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, musk kink, shower sex, swearing, armpit kink, body worship, masturbation.

Eric had been at the gym for hours. With all the new movies he's been working on, they have been in demand that he stays in great shape. Even at fifty-one, his build is almost the same as when he was on Greys Anatomy. He's just slightly thicker, which he didn't mind he almost preferred it. Eric always made sure to work his arms the most cause he knew how much you loved it when he flexed and his biceps would perk up, Eric also always made sure to never shower at the gym cause he knew how much you loved how sweaty he was and you always got so turned on by his musky scent, something about it just made you become an absolute animal that just wanted to pounce on him. Eric stayed at the gym for two and a half hours to make sure he could be as sweaty as possible by the time he made it home to you. He got in his car, his pit stains soaked in his shirt, and the scent on him could be smelt from miles away, yet it wasn't a gross smell it was somehow delicious in a way.

You pull out your phone and search up the iconic mc'steamy scene from Greys Anatomy. Something about that scene made you want to ride your boyfriend Eric into the sunset. It was over twenty years ago, and yet he still looked as good now as he does in that video. You grope your cock watching him walk out the shower on repeat, the gif causes your cock to leak pre-cum like a fountain, you find a pair of his yesterday gym underwear that still had the potent musk scent that made you so feral for him. You bring it up to your nose, breathing in the scent, your eyes roll back smelling his musk. "fuck" you mumble under your breath as you begin to slowly push his sweaty underwear into your mouth tasting the salty and savoury taste of it. Feeling the musky fabric in your mouth is driving you crazy but what's driving you over the edge is the Eric Dane shower gif that's on repeat right in front of you, you wrap your hands around the cock and begin jerking it, wanting him, needing him NOW.

Eric stumbled his way into the house, placing his gym bag on the floor and slowly creeping his way upstairs, hoping not to wake you. He peaks into your shared bedroom through the slightly opened door, his eyes widen and his cock hardens at what he's just witnessed the love of his life jerking off to shower scene of his on Greys Anatomy. Your sultry moans echoes throughout the room as the steamy shower scene plays on repeat over and over, pre-cum leaks all down your hand dripping down onto the floor "f-fuck" you mumble under your breath as you begin to jerk yourself faster and faster until Eric storms his way in causing you to jump out of your skin "AHH!" You scream.

Eric's laugh echoes throughout the bedroom as he slowly makes his way closer to your naked body, "someone's enjoying my work, aren't they" he mutters out seductively as he stops beside you and runs his thumb across your bottom lip. You bite your lip ever so slightly as you take in his musky smell, his pit stains are calling to you, begging to have your face in them. "fuck." You whisper under your breath before Eric scoops you up and throws you over his shoulder, slapping your ass for the fun of it. He gently pushes the bathroom door open and puts you down. You stare at him, confused. "I'm gonna make your fantasies become a reality," he winks at you as he begins to undress himself. Once he's finally naked, he picks up he musky underwear and begins to gently feed it into your mouth. Your eyes flutter back as if you are in heaven tasting the saltiness of his gym balls and sweat.

Eric grips the back of your head and lifts up his arm, revealing his hairy pits. He gently pushes your face into his pits, letting the musky scent consume your nose. You keep his underwear in your mouth out of pure pleasure and to add to it your breathing in his sweaty pits, you gently pull the underwear out of your mouth and you begin to lap up his stinky pits "right there baby, good boy" he whispers sweet nothings in your ear. "Keep lapping it up" Eric throws his head back as he feels your tongue slurp up the sweat from his hairy pits, he gently pulls your head back and pecks your lips "shower" he commands gently spanking your ass as your climb in. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you. You wrap your arms around his neck as the warm water hits both your bodies, coating you in its warmth.

You begin to lather up some soap in your hand and rub it all over his chest, feeling him flex his chest beneath your touch. He turns you over and pushes you against the wall. He swats his hand across both cheeks, Eric continues spanking you until your cheeks are red raw. "f-fuck!" You whimper out, feeling the stinging sensation on your ass, Once he's finally done spanking you and many sultry moans later, you turn yourself over and begin to play with his abs and pecs "fuck someone's been working out" you say jokingly causing him to let out a laugh. You lean closer to his pecs, and you graze your face across his pecs, placing kisses all over, "You've done it now." Eric groans out.

He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He stumbles forward, pushing your back against the wall, and his tongue attacks your mouth for dominance. He immediately wins that battle. The warm spray of water hits Eric's toned muscular back. With one hand, he holds you up to keep you stable and with another hand he lines his cock up with your tight pucker thrusting his hips up, his cock pushes past the tight ring and immediately hits your sweet spot sending you into a frenzy of orgasmic pleasure, "don't cum yet baby, we've just started" Eric whispers into your ear as he begins to buck his hips up into you.

Eric's hand grips onto your throat and tightens around your neck. Your eyes flutter back from pure bliss. "Fucking slut" he groans out as his thrusts become harder and roughly, "takin' me like a fucking CHAMP!" He shouts out as he thrusts up into you, he pulls out and lays you down on the shower floor in doggy. He slides right back into your warmth as he goes right back to how he was thrusting before, his hands grip your hips and his groin bounces off your ass causes it to ripple.

You run your hand down to your cock and start jerking it, with each jerk brings you closer to the sweet relief of cumming. With a couple more jerks, you shoot your load all over the shower floor, your boy-pussy tightens around Eric's cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy and sloppier until he pulls out and immediately shoot his load all over your juicy ass. Eric lifts up your limp body and washes the cum off of you and helps dry you off, laying your naked body on the bed. He kisses your forehead as he watches you drift off into the abyss of sleep, "night baby boy" he mumbles in your ear, "by the way... when you wake up we are going to do that thing you promised me" Eric chuckles and leaves the bedroom, your eyes widen when you realised what you promised to do.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF MASS EFFECT: VIRMIRE

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard and Cmdr. Dominik Shepard With: Lt. Kaidan Alenko, Gun. Chief Ashley Williams, Urdnot Wrex, and Tali'Zorah nar Rayya Ft. Special Guest Appearances by: Spec. Saren Arterius and Sovereign There is a realm of existence so far beyond your own, you cannot even imagine it... Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (2021)

[kinzis-writing]

Almost Over You | Joe Burrow

summary: It happened suddenly, you and Joe had broken up and you never understood exactly how it happened. All you know is that his ex-girlfriend was brought up and an argument started leaving to you being heartbroken. Your friends swore to you that they would stop at nothing until you got over your ex-boyfriend, but what if that's harder than you think?

Pairing: Joe Burrow (Bengals/NFL) x Fem! Reader (Joe Burrow x You)

Requested: Yes | No

Warning(s): mentions of heartbreak and breaking up, mentions of Joe x Olivia, mentions of alcohol.

Little note from me: This is the first time I have ever written for Joe Burrow. I usually write for Tee Higgins and Josh Allen. I wanted to give Joe a try because he is starting to grow on me a little bit. I may end up making a part 2 to this if I feel like it. Also I started writing this in Y/N format and then I switched to "You" after like the second paragraph lol. *gif not mine*

Word Count (lyrics not included): 4.5k

*Not Edited*

I also hate how I ended this. I need to work on the ending of my stories but I will work on getting better. May be a part 2 later... I haven't decided yet!

I've stopped looking for your truck, every time I go somewhere I don't scroll through the past anymore 'cause I don't care I'm finally putting on the shirt I like, tight jeans, big hoops with my hair up high. The least you could've done was give me the bar tonight.

Y/N browsed her outfits that she had brought over to her friends house. Her and her girls were having a girls night and going to the bar to let loose and have fun. It happened to be her best friends idea, mainly because she had been struggling to get over a recent breakup. Y/BFF/N had insisted that he wasn’t worth it and that she was going to get you over him one way or another. 

“Let me do your hair, Y/N!” One of the girls in your group spoke up. She was the hairstylist and makeup guru of the group, so she was the designated hair and makeup artist for the friend groups and any events that they attended. “I’ll fix your makeup too.” 

Y/N knew arguing would be pointless, so she sat down in the vanity chair and let her hair artist friend have at it. “I need help picking an outfit.” She spoke up looking towards her best friend while the other friend continued doing her hair. “I’m torn between the three on the bed.” She added pointing to the three outfits. 

In less than 20 minutes, her hair was done and makeup was touched up. Her best friend had left her choice on the bed before finishing getting ready and making everyone a pregame shot before heading to the bar. She was finishing pulling up her jeans when her friends came in with two trays of shots. 

“I’m not sure about this outfit.” Y/N spoke up. She usually wasn’t one to feel insecure, but looking at herself dressed in a pair of tight skinny jeans and a blouse, both of them not belonging to her, made her self conscious. “Why didn’t you pick one of my outfits?” She asked her best friend turning around. 

“Girl, you look hot!” She replied not answering your question at first. “You’re freshly single, so we’re gonna act like it today.” She added picking up a shot and handing it to you. 

You hesitantly grabbed the alcohol before glancing around the group of girls you loved so much. They were your best friends and you would do anything for them and they would do anything for you. “To Y/N, for finally taking a large step in getting over the dick.” 

“Cheers to that.” The other girls replied before downing the shot.

“Don’t call him that.” You spoke up softly hating the way her comment made you feel. The night you two broke up was still a blur and was anything but easy for you. More than likely you had blacked it out due to heartbreak, but still it lingered in your mind. 

“Honey, he had his hooks sunk deep in you. So deep that you literally wouldn’t even walk into a shop, restaurant, or anything if you noticed a vehicle that looked like his.” Y/BFF/N reminded you as you threw back your shot in hopes of forgetting about Joe tonight. Your ultimate goal was to finally and fully move on, to get over Joe tonight. 

After a couple more shots, the girls were heading to their favorite bar. Which just so happened to be the bar that Y/N and Joe always went to together. 

Why'd you have to come back in right then right when I was just getting good and gone? 'Cause I was in the wrong place at the wrong time You must've heard I was moving on, Then right out of the blue a quarter past two, I'm all about you. When I was just about, just about over you.

The girls had gotten to the bar around 11:45 or midnight. It was officially 1:42 and Y/N was letting loose. She felt the best she had in forever and to her, it had nothing to do with the guy that she was practically grinding against. The alcohol in her system made her feel a bit more easy-going and less paranoid of running into “he-who-should-not-be-named” at their bar. 

The loud pounding music came to a halt and was replaced with a slower song causing you to turn around and face to mystery bar guy. You weren’t one to just go and have hook-ups with anyone or randomly show pda to guys you didn’t know. In a plan to get over someone… it felt almost right to do it that way.

“You want to get out of here?” The mystery guy asked seductively trying to keep you enticed with him. 

You gave him a look before your eyes caught a group of men walking in together. Your blood ran cold, face turning pale as you seen the familiar dirty blonde locks and perfect smile of your ex-boyfriend. You took a chance to catch your breath when you moved your eyes over and caught Jamarr and Tee already noticing you. You had been close with a few of Joe’s teammates seeing as you were together for a bit. 

Jamarr gave you a quick nod of greeting before avoiding your gaze and Tee flashed you his smile before heading to an area with the boys. “I have to go.” You told the mystery man before leaving towards your group of girls. You were hoping that you could convince your girls to leave and do this another night. Maybe you could fake sick and go home by uber, you weren’t sure what your whole plan was, but you knew something would have to go down to leave. 

Once you reached your group of girls, who were either occupied with boys/girls or chatting with each other while drinking, you put on your best sick face. “Hey, I’m not feeling the best… I think it’s best if I uber home.” 

Your hairdresser best friend gave you a saddened look believing the story that was being told. “Bullshit.” Y/BFF/N spoke up crossing her arms. “I noticed him walk in with his groupies.” She responded raising an eyebrow in your direction. 

You shrugged not really caring if she noticed him, “I’m not in the mood to deal with this tonight.” 

“Y/N, you are not leaving. I promised you that I would help you get over him and with that promise it means not letting you leave all because he came into this bar.” Your best friend stated. With her tone of voice, you knew it was pointless to even argue with her. 

“Isn’t it weird that he showed up after you were fixing to go home with some guy?” Another one of the girls in your group spoke up. 

“I was not going home with that guy.” You objected crossing your arms over yourself feeling a bit uncomfortable. “That’s not who I am.” 

“Maybe that’s what you need for one night.” Another spoke up causing you to roll your eyes. 

You shook your head in disbelief at your friends, “I’m getting another drink.” You mumbled before turning and making your way to the bar. Last call would be announced within the next fifteen minutes, and you were not waiting until then. 

You could've stayed with the guys, acting like you didn't see me It would've hurt a little less if you'd bought some girl a drink but you had to walk up, messing me up I'm drunk, wondering why it's gotta be like this I thought I was moving on, but now I'm starting back over again.

After another drink and a shot, you had simply ordered a glass of red wine. You were already feeling the effects of the alcohol and you were worried that you would do something stupid if you ordered anything other than wine. Part of your friend group had gone home with whoever they had met here, no doubt going to have a fun night. Your best friend and one other girl were the only ones that were left of your group besides you. 

“Can I get another round for our table back there?” His voice spoke up causing a chill to run down your back. You hadn’t heard that voice since the night that it ended. Without paying him any attention, you picked up your glass and took a drink of the crimson liquid. It was easier to pretend that he wasn’t there instead of trying to make everything weird. Joe seemed to have different plans, “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He mumbled as he sat down on the seat next to you. 

“I was hoping I wouldn’t see you.” He would never admit it, but your reply felt like a knife. He knew that the whole breakup should had been dealt with sooner and talked about. If not to fix it, then to at least to make it less messy. 

Joe chose to ignore your blunt reply as he waited on their final tray of drinks, “How have you been?” he asked carefully knowing that it hadn’t been easy for him. He would never admit that to you unless you asked him yourself. 

“Why are you doing this?” You asked. Finally, you turned to face him noticing the stubble that adorned his face compared to his usual clean-shaven self. There was no point in answering his question because you had not felt your best since your last night with him. “You could have avoided me and let me heal.” You added taking another sip of win after. 

Joe looked exhausted; anyone could tell. You had heard that they were currently not playing their best even if you refused to watch the games. You were his problem, not that he blamed you. He blew up for no reason, mainly due to stress and you felt as if it was a personal attack. “I didn’t mean what I said that night.” He told you. Even if you wanted him to leave you alone, he just knew he had to tell you what he felt after that night. “When you brought up my past… it never compared to us. She never meant as much to me as you did, I get that I was with her longer, but it wasn’t the same.” 

You shrugged trying your best to act like you didn’t care. “I am not talking about this.” You shook your head before finishing off your glass of wine. “If we’re being honest, I shouldn’t have brought up Olivia, but that’s all I’m going to say.” You added before standing up from your seat. You needed to get back to your best friend before your body decided to fully give in to the handsome quarterback right next to you. 

“Y/N don’t do this. Let me in and let’s talk about this.” Joe practically begged as he stood up quickly noticing that you were trying to make your escape. The look on your face was unreadable, why was Joe begging you to talk about it? What would it help and why was it such a big deal to him? 

“Joe, you ended it. I don’t owe you anything.” You whispered as you pushed back tears not wanting them to surface. You were beginning to feel defeated because your heart and your body yearned for the man in front of you. 

“Y/N… please.” He pleaded one last time in a whisper, in the same way that you had answered him. Before you could say anything, the bartender placed the tray of drinks down giving you the chance to get away from Joe before he could continue begging you and you gave in. 

maybe you caught me on a bad night maybe tomorrow I'll be just fine maybe it's the red wine that put you back in my mind

Final call had happened at 2:30, but the bar was still alive with drunk couples, singles, and others. Your best friend had told you that she was going home with the guy that she had been with all night, only she was staying with you until you wanted to leave. Truth be told, she was probably just trying to ensure that you would stay away from Joe the rest of the night. 

“I’m going to the restroom and then I’ll head home.” You promised your best friend before pulling her into a hug. 

Once you two pulled away she gave you a small smile, “want me to wait for you?” she offered. 

You didn’t miss the eye roll from the guy that she was going home with. You internally scoffed and rolled your eyes at the guy who wanted inside your best friends pants before returning the smile, “No, I’ll be fine. Just be careful on your way home.” 

Your bestie nodded before giving you a knowing look, “There’s plenty of people still here. I think you should reconsider what I told you earlier.” She added before locking arms with the guy beside her. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, “If you change your mind you have to let me know.” She teased before blowing a kiss and turned to head out with the man that she had met tonight. 

You turned around and grabbed your wristlet before making your way towards the bathroom. In all seriousness you were more than ready to go home, you had been since your conversation with Joe. However, it still made Joe stay in your mind. Flashbacks from the relationship played over and over again. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, Joe Burrow was a huge green flag when you’re in a relationship with him. He may act cocky or arrogant sometimes, but most of the time it’s to hide how he is truly feeling. 

Even if he was a green flag, you still argued some but it wasn’t often. The night you broke up was the only big fight that you had experienced in that relationship. Why did the relationship break after one fight? You just guessed that your relationship was not strong enough to last. 

After you finished in the bathroom you exited (after washing your hands of course) and got on your phone so you could order an Uber for the ride home. You knew it was a bad idea for you girl’s to ride together, but no one disagreed and you weren’t going to be the first one to object. 

“Really? 25 minutes.” You huffed as you leaned against the hallway leading to the bathroom. You wanted to be away from the crowds and try to catch a ride back to your place. “Why did I agree to do this tonight?” you mumbled placing your phone back in your pocket after seeing the wait time. 

“Are you okay?” a familiar voice spoke up. You looked towards the dimly lit hallway and noticed the guy that you had been dancing with before Joe came in. You had been hoping that he had already went home because you didn’t want to see him again either. “I heard you huffing.” He mentioned with a half smile forming on his face. 

You nodded assuring him that you were fine, “Yeah. Just waiting for my ride.” You lied knowing good and well that you didn’t order that Uber that was going to take almost half an hour. 

He nodded, “I could take you home if you’re getting inpatient.” He offered hoping that you would accept his invite.

Your body was overcome with a feeling of dread when you looked into his eyes. You weren’t sure why, mainly because he had been a nice guy earlier. Thinking back, maybe you missed this feeling because of the alcohol and then the fact that you noticed your ex before you could process the guy in front of you. 

You shook your head forcing a fake smile, “No it’s fine. My ride will be here very soon and I don’t want to leave them hanging.” You lied again in hopes that it was believable. 

“Come on.” He urged walking closer and leaning against the wall next to you. 

You opened your mouth to object before a voice beat you to it, “Babe, what’s taking so long?” Joe’s voice rang out down the hallway as footsteps were heard getting closer to you. The mental relief you felt hearing his voice was unreal. No matter how much you didn’t want to be around him, you always knew that you were safe with him. 

“I was just talking to a friend.” You lied knowing that Joe could hear the hesitation in your voice and he definitely noticed your body language. Your body relaxed once you felt his familiar embrace around you. 

“Babe?” The mystery guy from early asked glancing between the two. It was obvious that many people in Cincinatti knew who Joe was, the guy in front of you especially. “You should be aware that your girlfriend lead me on earlier.” He told Joe causing you to tense. 

Joe’s grip around you tightened, probably not liking the chance of you going home with you before he got there. “Well, I’m sure whatever she was doing earlier was just for fun. No strings attached just innocent fun.” Joe muttered making sure to get his point across. 

“Whatever.” The guy mumbled before eyeing you one more time before stepping around the two of you and leaving the hallway. 

You let out a sigh of relief once he was officially out of hearing range, “Thank you.” you mumbled pulling yourself out of his arms. It didn’t take long for you to miss the feeling of him around you, it felt like home. It felt safe. 

Joe shook his head, “Don’t thank me.” He replied noticing how you were calming down now that you were alone. “Was that the guy you were with when I got here?” 

Even though Joe asked, you felt as if he already knew the answer. You just weren’t sure if it was from his comment or if he actually caught you. “How did you… Jamarr and Tee.” You sighed knowing that they told Joe about seeing you with him. 

Joe shook his head, “I actually noticed you first.” He denied your allegations. “I made a comment about the guy you were with which is what made the guys notice you.” He shrugged acting like his comment meant nothing. 

If you were honest, you felt giddy knowing that Joe was looking at you first before you even noticed him. 

why'd you have to come back in right then right when I was just getting good and gone? guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time you must've heard I was moving on then right out of the blue a quarter past two, I'm all about you when I was just about, just about over you. I was just about over you.

You knew that you were going to regret this. It was the biggest mistake and was what your best friend was trying to get you over. The only thing was that you could not argue with how right it felt to be sitting in the passenger seat of Joe’s vehicle. You had accepted a ride home instead of ordering an Uber late, and it didn’t help that the mystery guy from the bar was lounging around almost like he was waiting to see if you were with Joe for real. After feeling uneasy noticing the guy looking at you while you went and visited with your old friends for a moment, Joe secretly proposed for you to stay with him for the night. Just to ensure that you were safe until daylight. Being unsure of the bar and going home alone, you agreed. 

How did you get yourself in this situation though? You promised yourself that this would be the night that you got over Joe, however you felt as if all your progress was thrown out the window. You truly loved Joe and a part of you always would. He was the first person that you truly loved, which is why you knew apart of you would always belong to Joe. You were moving on the best you could, and you were sure that you could have gotten over him. Maybe there was a reason why it wasn’t tonight? Maybe it was protection from someone or something, but all you knew was that sitting in his car made it real that you would in no way be over him. 

“Do you need anything?” He asked more than likely referring to medicine or water due to the alcohol consumption tonight. You shook your head feeling more sober than ever. The house was so familiar, and a warm feeling came over you being back in his home. “I’ll get you a change of clothes before we head to bed.” He mentioned shooting you a small smile before walking towards his room. The room you used to basically live in when you were together.

Without waiting for him to call you, you carefully made your way into his bedroom seeing him lay out the clothes on the bed. “Can I shower before we head to bed?” You asked softly hoping you wouldn’t scare him. 

Joe nodded, “You don’t have to ask.” He mumbled picking up the clothes he sat on the bed and handed them to you. 

You silently thanked him before heading to his private bathroom and locking the door behind you. You knew where he kept his towels and everything so there was no need to make him get everything ready for you. You let the water run for a moment to get warm before stripping your clothes and getting into the shower. You sighed feeling the heat soothing your tense muscles due to the stress you were under tonight. You were trying to rack your brain over every event that happened tonight before noticing the array of products in Joe’s shower caddy. 

Everything you used sat untouched in the corner. Your shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating scrub, shaving items, body wash, and skincare. Everything that you had left here was sitting there looking untouched due to how little you had used them. You had just restocked before you two broke up, meaning that you never wanted to face him to get those items back. You just went out and bought new ones because it was easier… emotionally. 

Instead of crying due to your relationship being over, you pushed it out of your mind and finished showering. You knew how Joe was, and he wouldn’t go to bed until you got out of the shower. Once doing your skincare and haircare, you got out and dried off and got dressed. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, noticing that Joe gave you his favorite shirt of his and a pair of bengals shorts that he had gotten you. You remember him saying, “If you’re going to be my girl, we might as well give you some gear.” You smiled at the memory before cleaning up the bathroom and heading out to Joe’s room. 

You’d be lying if you said that seeing him lying on his bed in only shorts was a turn off. He was definitely the best-looking guy you have ever seen in your life, there was no doubt about it. The sound of your footsteps caused Joe to lock his phone and turn his attention towards you. 

“Do you need anything before I head to the guest room?” He asked softly getting out of his bed. He waited to see if you needed anything because he knew that you usually had to rack your brain over your nighttime routine.

“You don’t have to go to your guest bed. I’m not taking your bed.” You refused even if you secretly wanted his bed. What could you say? It was so comfortable to the point to where you wanted it in your apartment. “I can sleep in the guest room.” You knew he would deny but it was worth a shot. 

Joe refused, “You know I never let you sleep in the guest room.” He reminded even though she knew. She had practically moved in with him so when they argued, Joe would start the nights in the guest bed and weasel his way back into his bed with you. That’s just how the two of them were in their relationship.  

Instead of playing the back-and-forth game you sat down on the bed and gestured for him to join you. “Can I ask what the real reason is that you are doing this?” You asked softly as you felt the bed dip with his weight, only he was sitting in front of you. “You don’t owe me anything, Joe.” You assured so he didn’t feel as though he owed a debt to you.

“I know.” He replied, “actually I do owe you an apology. I’m sorry about that night, I was stressed about the game, and I took it out on you.” He apologized. 

You gave him a small smile in return, “I think we both said some things that we regret that night.” You whispered worried that everything would come crashing down. 

“I love you, Y/N.” Joe admitted softly his hand coming up to your neck. “I’ll never stop no matter what happens.” He added in a whisper to not spook you too much. 

You bet your lip trying to keep from tearing up at his words. For the last three months you had been wanting to hear those words come out of his mouth, yet it was surreal to actually hear them. 

“I was trying so hard to get over you.” You whispered out, a crack in your voice that did not go unnoticed by Joe. “I still love you so much and it kills me every day.” You added full of emotion due to staring into the blue eyes that you loved so much. 

Staring into Joe’s eyes, you felt the walls that you had built the last three months come falling down. You promised yourself that you would get over him and never fall back into his arms, yet you weren’t going to stop. You knew that even if you two never got back together officially that you would always be safe and have a home around Joe. Your heart would always be his no matter what. 

Instead of overthinking and thinking of the worse possible outcomes, you decided to finally do what your heart and body have been craving. In one quick motion, you had your hands on the back of his neck and pushed your lips on his. It didn’t take him but a second to start kissing you back because it was clear that he had missed you all the same. 

You sighed in content at the kiss, causing Joe to apply a bit of pressure to where his hand was resting on your neck. You could feel the want for him building up, wanting the two of you to make up for lost time. You were unsure of how far you would go but being in his arms, at least for one more night was something that you were okay with. 

It was safe to say that you two did in fact make up for the lost time that was three months. You had texted your best friend telling her that you took her advice about going home with a “nice” guy from the club and that he was full of “green flags”. She was beyond excited wanting to know the details, which you would give her without letting her know that it was indeed your ex. 

Joe woke up the next morning thinking everything would go back to normal. You two had talked a bit, had makeup sex, and even cuddled to sleep. He woke up to an opposing reality, which made him question if you were ever really there. You had left early, not knowing what it meant for you two. Not wanting to have another intimate conversation, you ran saving it for another day. 

Joe’s clothes laying on the end of the bed told him that it wasn’t a dream. You were in fact with him last night and he wasn’t just lost in a drunken dream. Joe knew after last night; he would not be letting you go as easy as he did before. No matter how upset and angry he was, he was going to find you and make you his again. He was sure of it. 

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART I

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! this turned out pretty long so i will be splitting it into parts so it's easier. next part will be posted soon. i hope you all have as much fun reading this as i had writing it. enjoy!

part two

The breeze riffled through your hair as you drove, the sun warming your skin through the open windows. The Irish countryside stretching out before you, lush and green, with rolling hills and quaint villages dotting the landscape. The scent of wildflowers and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees filled your senses.

It was rare, really. The silence, the feeling of complete freedom, and the solitude that enveloped you. A fleeting escape from the chaos of your everyday life.

The ping of your phone interrupted the peaceful moment. You tapped on the pop-up notification after briefly glancing at the directions to your destination. It was a message from Cillian. Well, two, actually. One was asking how far you were, and the other was a Spotify link followed by a question mark. Ever since he started hosting his bbc radio show, he's been sending you potential songs for his playlists to get your opinion. Not that he needs it anyway. But you always appreciate being included in his process.

Your lips curled into a smile as you clicked on the link. The familiar sound of The Blue Nile's "The Downtown Lights" flooded the car, instantly making you feel a wave of nostalgia. It's been ages since you've listened to that song. The synth-pop melody carries you up the pine-dotted path to where his house perches atop a hill, overlooking the crashing waves below. You've been here a couple of times, and yet it never gets less breathtaking. The Victorian architecture contrasting beautifully with the rugged coastline, creating a scene straight out of a painting.

The car glides right past the wrought iron gates, and you cut the engine in front of the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. You shoot Cillian a quick text letting him know you're here, unbuckle your seat belt, and hop out of the car.

The June sun beats down on your skin instantly, heat radiating off the cobblestones as you open the backdoor to look through your bag for a hair tie. The smell of saltwater mingles with the sound of gulls overhead, sending you into sensory overload. "Gotcha," you mutter to yourself as you finally find the hair tie and pull your hair back into a loose bun.

"You drove here?" you hear him call out from behind you, his voice tinged with surprise. "And you're alone?" you turn around to see Cillian walking towards you, a curious expression on his face.

"I actually had to throw a tantrum to convince them to let me come alone," you reply with a chuckle, feeling a sense of pride at your small victory. "I was like, It's Ireland. What's the worst that could happen?"

Being who you are means being guarded against any potential danger or harm at all times, being driven to almost everywhere, and always having a security team around.

Cillian laughs, a sound that makes your heart flutter and makes you want to hear it again and again. "Well, I'm glad you made it here in one piece, love," he says with a grin. "You're not a very good driver."

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You did regret your decision to drive from the airport 10 minutes later when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road. But he didn't need to know that.

"I made it in one piece, didn't I?" you playfully retort, trying to salvage your wounded pride. Cillian chuckles and shakes his head with a twinkle in his eye. You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He looks good, you thought. Unbelievably good. Well rested. His jet black hair was perfectly styled, even though you know he didn't put any effort into it—the slightest hint of silver at the temples, his sharp jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. Though they looked a little tired, as if he had been through a lot since the last time you saw him.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling a rush of heat on your cheeks.

"It's good to see you," you finally manage to say, trying to sound casual. Cillian's smile softens, and he replies, "It's good to see you too." He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. The soft fabric of his t-shirt brushes against your skin as you embrace him, and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.

"Come on, let's get inside," he says, leading you towards the house. Once inside, you make your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet; you wondered if anyone else was home. Cillian's family wasn't by any means loud or boisterous, but the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You hungry, love?" Cillian asks, opening the fridge, pulling out a white ceramic container, and setting it up on the kitchen island. You take a seat on one of the stools while he stands across from you.

"For something sweet?" you smile, seeing the container filled with what seems to be a piece of strawberry sponge cake. His mom must've made it. "Always," you reply. He hands you a spoon and takes one for himself, the two of you sharing the dessert in comfortable silence.

Until he broke it.

"How was Madrid?" he asks softly.

"It was good, great crowd," you reply, taking another bite of the dessert. "But tiring," you add, feeling the exhaustion of the long trip settling in.

"How many nights did you perform?"

"Four."

"Jesus, that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

Your eyes meet his; confusion clear in your expression. "You think that's a lot? Didn't you used to do four or five nights in a row of the same play?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "for months…?

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of exhaustion," he explains, taking another bite. "Performing the way you do in front of a live audience for three hours is a whole different ball game, love."

Love.

There it was again. That godforsaken term of endearment that he seemed to throw around so casually. It made your heart race every time he said it, even though you knew it probably meant nothing to him. But the way he looked at you now, with a hint of admiration in his eyes, made you wonder if maybe—

"Want the last bite?" he offered, taking you out of your thoughts. He pushed the container towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. His gaze was intense, as if silently urging you to take it.

"Oh, hello," a voice exclaimed from behind you, breaking the moment. You drop the spoon on the counter, a little startled. As if you were caught in the act of something forbidden. You turned around to see Yvonne, Cillian's wife. She said your name with a surprised tone, making you feel guilty for some reason. "I didn't know you were here," she continued, her eyes flickering between you and her husband.

You started to rise from your seat, confusion clouding your thoughts. That's weird. Cillian usually lets his wife know when you're visiting, but this time it seems like he didn't. She walked towards you, enveloping you in a hug. "When did you get here?" she said.

"Not long ago," you replied, relieved that she didn't seem upset. "I, uh, wanted to take a break and thought Ireland might be a good place to do that," you added, hoping to diffuse any tension that may have arisen. She nodded understandingly. "And you're staying here?"

"Oh, no, no," you quickly assured her. "I rented a place nearby, so you don't have to worry about me."

"Nonsense," Cillian interjected. "You can stay here. There's plenty of room."

"She's already paid for it, Cillian," Yvonne retorted, giving him a stern look.

Something was definitely off.

This was the last thing you wanted. You've specifically chosen the cottage for two reasons. First, to have space. The whole point of this trip was to finally have peace and write music. You've been stuck for months, not being able to find inspiration in your usual surroundings. Everything felt dull inside you all day—an emptiness that was smothering.

Second, you needed to stay the fuck away from Cillian. Being close to him was dangerous territory, one you didn't want to navigate right now. The plan was to come and visit and occasionally hang out and that's it. The thought of being in such close quarters with him was overwhelming. Staying here meant risking your heart and sanity.

You hesitated, also not wanting to intrude on their space, but Cillian insisted.

"Okay…How about if I stay for a couple of days and then move to the cottage?" you suggested, hoping to compromise. "Sounds perfect to me," he said.

This was going to be a long summer.

For the next few days, you dream too much, don't write enough, and try to find inspiration everywhere. As you settled into the routine of staying at Cillian's, you found yourself enjoying the peaceful surroundings and his company more than you expected. The days seemed to blend together, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen glances that left your heart racing.

But you also felt constantly distracted by his presence, making it difficult to focus on your writing or anything else, for that matter.

All you could think about was him.

The piano room surrounded you with its warm, inviting atmosphere, and you found yourself drawn to it more often than not. The big windows overlooking the garden let in streams of sunlight, casting a warm glow over the bookshelf. You felt the softness of the carpet as you sat on the grand piano bench, running your fingers along the keys absentmindedly.

You started humming a tune that had been stuck in your head for days, the words appearing softly and effortlessly as you played:

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

The humming went on whenever you didn't know what to say next, filling in the gaps between the notes on the piano and the lyrics:

A greater woman has faith

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

The melody filled the room until you stopped abruptly, frustrated that the lyrics weren't coming as easily as before. You closed your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your mind. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, elbows resting on the keys of the piano.

"You good?" Cillian's rough voice broke through your frustration, causing you to look up and offer a weak smile. You don't know how long he's been standing there or how much he heard of your struggles. "Just hitting a wall with this song," you admitted, running a hand through your hair.

"Ah, I see," he nodded sympathetically. He moved towards the records stacked on the shelf and pulled one out, placing it on the turntable. "I don't want to mess with your creative process or anything, but maybe a break with some music will help," he suggested.

Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" began to play, taking over the room with its haunting melody.

"So you play one of the saddest songs ever?" you deadpanned, "Thanks."

He chuckled softly, "You were playing some pretty intense stuff; I figured it would fit right in."

Oh, so he did hear you.

"Ah, I know it's different from my usual stuff," you said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your music. "I might scrap that one. They might not be onboard with the change."

"And why's that?"

Thom Yorke's voice faded into the background as you contemplated his question, unsure of how to respond.

You shrugged, "I listen to sad music, not make it."

"I liked what I heard," he reassured you, "and change is good. It keeps things interesting."

His low voice was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with the idea of trying something new. Pop has been your comfort zone for so long, it's what stands out of you, but most importantly, it's what sells. At least, that's what's important to the industry. Maybe it was time to push yourself out of it.

"I guess you're right," you replied, a faint smile creeping onto your face.

"As always," he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He stood leaning against the table where the record player sat, arms crossed, looking as if he had too many things to say and not enough words for them.

"Would this be a good time to ask you if everything's okay?" you inquired, noticing the weight of unspoken thoughts in his eyes. "With Yvonne, I mean," you added, nervous to bring up the topic.

That first day, when you arrived at the house, you could sense there was something going on between them. Something bad. The tension in the air was so obvious, but you didn't want to pry. However, as the days went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she hadn't been around or the absence of a certain ring on his finger.

"And here, I thought you were never going to ask," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I was waiting for you to bring it up," your voice trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I didn't want to overstep."

He studied you for a moment, or at least, you assumed that was what he was doing. Finally, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat,"We've separated."

A cold feeling settled in your chest as you processed his words. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly everything made sense. "Cillian," is all you managed to say, the concern evident in your voice.

He still wouldn't look at you. Knowing him, in moments like this, he wouldn't want to be coddled or pitied, so you save your apologies for later.

"What happened?"

He waved his hand dismissively, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing, really," he said, his tone final. He didn't look upset, but rather resigned to the situation. "It hadn't been working for a long time; we both knew it was coming. I guess we were holding on for the boys more than anything." You could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you feeling defeated and unsure of what to say next. You don't think there's anything you can say that will make this or him feel better.

And boy, did you wish you could take away his pain with just a few words.

Cillian walked slowly over the piano, stopping in front of it. He streched his arms over the wooden soundboard, gripping the edges tightly as if seeking some sort of solace in the instrument. He finally looked at you.

"Why didn't you say anything, Cill?" you asked softly, "I would've—"

"You would've what?" he interrupted, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn't want to worry you, you have more important things than my marital issues."

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it tore at your heart to see him suffering in silence. "You're my friend. These things are important to me, Cill," you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. He flinched slightly at your touch, but then relaxed, leaning into your hand.

He didn't say anything, but you knew he appreciated your words. You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped in relief and the way his fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the piano.

One morning, you woke up to the wind gently rustling through the trees outside your windows. The morning light was clear and clean, leaking through the glass and falling against the walls of the room in soft patterns. It felt too early to be awake, too peaceful to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

You roll over to look at the little clock on the bedside table: 6:20 AM. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, so you threw the covers and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool wood floor beneath your feet as you walked to the bathroom.

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth, trying to wake yourself up fully. Holding up your hair, you tie it into a ponytail while walking over the bedside table to grab your phone and airpods. You put one in your ear and hit shuffle on one of your morning playlists. You couldn't function without some music. "Keep On Loving You" by Cigarettes After Sex starts playing.

On your way to the kitchen, you walked by Cillian's room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Who the hell sleeps with their door open? Psychos, probably. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked inside to see him sprawled out on his bed, body illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains—characteristic warm and cool shades revealing every hollow and speck of bare muscle. He slept with every limb stretched out, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. It was a rare sight, quite poetic.

He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of your presence. So you let your mind wander.

You imagined yourself crossing the room, pulling yourself on top of him. You imagined the way his bare body would look beneath you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair messy around his face, his skin warm against yours. His hands—rough and soft at the same time—running over your thigh, your breast, your neck. You could almost feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at you.

But then reality snapped back into focus.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. This was just a fantasy, a dangerous game to play with someone who was somewhat off-limits. But truth be told, the temptation was becoming harder to resist with each passing moment. It was all you could think about ever since he told you about his troubled marriage.

It took a long time for your heartbeat to slow. You headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help clear your mind. As you rummage through the cabinets for a mug, his voice startles you from behind. "Need some help with that?" he asks, making you jump.

For a moment you thought you were still imagining things, but you turn around to see him standing there with a t-shirt on as opposed to five minutes ago. Great, him walking around shirtless in his kitchen, sleepy-eyed, messy hair, and rough morning voice would've been lethal.

"I've got it, thanks," you reply, shaking the mug slightly in your hand. You quickly pour yourself some coffee and try to focus on the task at hand: looking for the sugar.

"Sleep well?" he asks, voice still husky from sleep, his accent more prominent. He's rifling through the cabinet for a mug of his own. You can't help but notice the way his muscles flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches up. You hum in agreement, trying to hide your blush as you take a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Grand," he replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. You exchange small talk about the upcoming day, but your mind keeps drifting back to how good he looks in the morning light.

"Any plans for today other than locking yourself in the piano room?" he teases, and you shoot him a playful glare. "Maybe I'll actually venture outside for once," you quip, laughing.

"How does the beach sound like?" he asks, "The boys are coming over, and they're bringing some friends, and I thought a trip would be a nice change of scenery."

"I could use some sun," you admit, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Let's make it a beach day then," he suggests, setting his mug on the sink. "We leave at 10, piano woman."

"Ha ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "But I'll hold you to it, annoying man," you reply.

"Annoying man?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite person."

"Only on days that end in 'y'."

•••

"Are you done with your sad boy music?"

Cillian bursts out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. He's been playing Radiohead on repeat for the whole car ride, and you were starting to feel like you were in a melancholy music video. "I like their music as much as the next person, but I think I need a break from the sadness," you say.

"Fine, fine," Cillian concedes, reaching for his phone to change the song. The bleak atmosphere in the car lifts as "Linger" by The Cranberries starts playing, filling the space with a more pleasant vibe. Cillian glances at you, he's wearing dark shades that hide his eyes, but you can still see his stoic expression softening as he catches you smiling at the change in music.

"Better?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Instead of answering, you start silently singing along to the lyrics, gesticulating dramatically for added effect. Cillian smiles at your antics, his own lips twitching in amusement as he watches you. The boys were so caught up in their conversation with their friends in the backseat that you were pretty sure they weren't even paying attention to the music or your impromptu performance. With a small smile on your face, you face out the window and enjoy the rest of the car ride in content silence.

When you arrive at your destination, all of you unbuckle your seat belts once Cillian puts the Bronco in park. You all pile out of the car, stretching your legs and taking in the sights around you. You close your eyes for a second and take a breath. The sea air—you loved that smell.

•••

A few hours later, after countless swims and some snacks, you find yourself lying on a beach towel, book in hand, feeling the warmth of the temperature on your skin. You're reading a book you picked up at an airport several months ago by Elin Hilderbrand, or the queen of beach reads, as many call her. You were completely engrossed in the story until you felt Cillian settling down next to you.

His hair was damp from the water, and his skin was slightly glistening. Gosh, he looked absolutely stunning. "Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Not at all," you reply, closing the book and sitting up. "Having fun?"

"Lots," he says with a smile, reaching over to grab his sunglasses. The two of you sit in comfortable silence. The laughter and chatter of his sons and friends coming from the water redirects your attention back to the beach scene before you. You look back at Cillian, his eyes fixed on his sons.

"They love you, you know," you say softly, watching the genuine joy on his face as he watches his children.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," he says, eyes still fixed on the boys. "I worry I might've fucked them up by letting my relationship with their mother fall apart."

He continues, "Sometimes I feel they resent me for it."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know, they just seem distant sometimes. Like they're holding back."

"Hey, that's normal for kids to have mixed feelings about their parents' separation. I was so happy when mine got divorced because it meant no more fighting, but it was also tough to adjust to the changes. It's very conflicting stuff," you say, huffing a small laugh. "Also, they're teenagers now, right? That's a tough age to navigate even without the added stress of divorce."

Cillian nods in agreement, exhaling out a yeah.

You squint against the sunlight beaming behind his head before continuing.

"You're a great dad, you always have been. Just show up and be there for them when they need you, even if they don't always seem to appreciate it. They'll remember it in the long run," you offer, remembering how much your own father's presence meant to you after your parents' divorce. "And I'm not a parent, but what parent feels like they're doing everything right all the time, anyway?"

Cillian turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment before offering a small smile. "I guess you're right," he says sincerely.

"Fork found in kitchen," you retort, breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He chuckles, "That's clever."

"Well," you continue, "I've been accused of many things over the years, but being unoriginal isn't one of them."

He laughs. Just like he did back in the car: a genuine, carefree laugh that makes you feel a little lighter.

"Want to go for one last swim, piano woman?"

You roll your eyes. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Cillian replies with a grin. "It's too fitting."

You stand up and stretch. You're wearing a one-piece teal-ish swimsuit that you swear you only chose based on comfort and not because it makes your ass and breasts look fantastic. Cillian's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, and you swear you can see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He doesn't move.

"Are you coming or…?"

"Right, one last swim," he finally says, standing up and following you towards the water.

Maybe that one last swim wasn't a great idea after all.

And why is that?

Because not even five minutes into the water, you thought it would be a good idea to jump from a high rock, and now you're sitting in the car with your knee scrapped, throbbing in pain, and regretting your impulsive decision.

•••

"You're so fuckin' stubborn."

You try to move into a more comfortable position while ignoring the pain shooting up your leg by pressing a hand against one side of the door to keep yourself steady. "And you're so clearly overreacting."

Cillian pushes his bedroom door open. He's also clearly pissed. The ride back to the house was deathly silent. Well, not silent. His sad boy music made a return, and this time with Broken Social Scene. You couldn't ask him to change the music without starting another argument. Even the kids were quiet, beyond asking several times if you were okay, which you assured them you were. Obviously a lie.

As Cillian walks around the room, you reach for your midi white beachy dress and look down at your knee in horror. It's no longer just a bruise, but a gash that is slowly oozing blood. Not as much as before, but still. It looks nasty underneath the shirt Cillian used from his car as a makeshift bandage.

He grabs the first aid kit from a shelf and turns around to face you.

"Take off your dress."

"Pardon me?"

"Take off your dress so I can properly clean and bandage the wound," Cillian repeats, his expression serious. You look down at the blood-stained fabric as if you needed any more confirmation. "Off, C'mon."

You stiffen at his demand, your body going completely rigid at his bossy tone. You watch him stride into his bathroom. He pushes aside some stuff on the counter and tosses the kit onto the counter.

Okay, yeah. He has good reason to be upset. You had no business jumping from that rock.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he'd said before, right when he went to get you. And now you can see the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You can hear him shuffle in the bathroom while you remove your dress. You still have your swimsuit on underneath, but you feel exposed without the extra layer. Maybe the pain is catching up to you or the fact that you have upset him or that he's waiting for you in the bathroom to take care of you but tears sting your eyes as you try to process the situation. You take a moment to collect yourself. You cannot go in there like this, he cannot see you this vulnerable. At least, not now.

He's braced against the counter, head hung low, when you push open the bathroom door. You nearly back out to give him some space or time to compose himself, but his eyes meet yours and his expression straightens. He clears his throat and then freezes. "I—you're wearing your swimsuit."

"I am. Were you expecting me to change into something else?"

"No," he grumbles, "I mean, nevermind."

He turns back and starts grabbing sterile gauze, his movements slightly jerky. He gestures for you to sit on the counter. "Up."

"I'm not sure I can do that given my—" Before you're done speaking, he scoops you up and sets you on the counter. Your hands are locked around his neck, and his are firmly gripping your waist. They fit perfectly there, like they're made to hold you close.

He reaches behind him, both your faces close together now, and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his neck and onto your thighs. He puts a hand on your uninjured leg, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is going to hurt." You stare at his impossible blue eyes and think to yourself: yes, this is going to hurt.

"Oh, shit shit," you gasp, gripping his forearm. "Holy fuuuck."

"I've got you, breathe," he commands, and you allow yourself to focus on his voice, letting it ground you. The antiseptic burns both your nostrils and knee as he continues to clean the wound, the pain shooting through your leg causing you to clench your teeth.

"I'm sorry," you breathe out.

There's nothing but silence in response.

"I told you multiple times not to go up there," he finally says, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet."

"I know," you whisper, feeling guilty.

"Don't do that again," he commands, his accent thickening with emotion. "You could've hurt yourself even more."

"I know," you repeat, not sure how else to respond.

His head is bowed in concentration as he finishes cleaning the wound, his hands steady despite the anger in his voice. You can see his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly as he works. He applies a little more pressure to the bandage than he should've, and you let out a soft moan. This doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The air in the room seems to shift. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something soften in his gaze before he looks away.

"You're not supposed to like that."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

He's gotten closer to you, your hands somehow made their way to fist his navy blue linen shirt. His body is between your legs, the delicate material of his pants brushing your skin. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't say I mind it either." Your heart races at his proximity, unsure of what to do next.

His hands slide up your thighs, gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's going to kiss you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the right decision to let him.

But now is not the time to be rational about it.

"I'm not gonna stop you," you say quietly, "I wouldn't know how."

His eyes darken, pupils dilating with desire. He doesn't move.

It's like you're both aware of the line you're about to cross, so neither of you moves.

You keep your eyes firmly on his face. His lips inch closer to yours, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. Your body is angled towards his, hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your slightly damp hair, now cold, making you shiver.

He's impossibly hard against you, the material of his pants is thin, and you're aware of every inch of him pressing against your throbbing core.

"And I wouldn’t know how to stop kissing you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He shifts slightly, causing his erection to press even more firmly against you, both letting out a soft moan. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, just kiss me, you thought.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, which is, by the way, open.

"Dad?" You both freeze.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar, offering a sliver of privacy but not enough to shield you from any potential interruptions.

"Yes?" Cillian calls out, trying to sound casual despite the intense moment that was just interrupted. "We're ordering takeout, do you want anything?"

"No, buddy, we're good, thanks," Cillian replies, his voice strained as he tries to keep his composure. You hear the steps retreating down the hallway.

Cillian steps back, and the absence of his body against yours is jarring. It clearly would've been a mistake to take this further, but a mistake that would've felt so fucking good.

"We shouldn't do this."

He clears his throat. "Yeah."

He moves towards the door, his movements tense and purposeful. "I'm gonna—" he says, motioning the door.

"Yeah," you quickly reply, "I got it."

You watch him leave, the air heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires.

a/n: thank you for reading! please share your thoughts with me, let me know if you guys enjoyed it :)

part two

[itsharleystuff]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.

— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)

No use of y/n.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.

It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.

As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.

Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.

Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.

You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.

Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.

The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.

But, oh hell.

What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.

But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.

The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.

To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.

"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.

"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.

"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.

However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.

"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.

"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.

But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.

"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.

"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.

A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.

"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."

"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.

"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.

The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...

"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.

"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."

Ah, fuck.

Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.

"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."

He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.

"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.

"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.

"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.

You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.

Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.

But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.

Because Javier Peña never got jealous.

And yet, there he was.

Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 

"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"

He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.

"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"

You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."

The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.

"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."

"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"

He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.

Red light.

"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"

Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.

"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."

His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.

"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."

Green light.

He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.

"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."

The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."

"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.

"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.

"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"

His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.

"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."

You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.

"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.

At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.

Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.

"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"

His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.

"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.

"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.

"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."

How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.

There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.

Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.

Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.

"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.

"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."

You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.

"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."

"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."

Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.

Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.

"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.

"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."

"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.

At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.

"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."

You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.

"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."

Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.

"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.

In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.

"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 

"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"

"No." You breathe out.

"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."

"Sí, Javi."

"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"

"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."

He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.

"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.

Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.

"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."

Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.

"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."

His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.

"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.

"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."

Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.

"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.

"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.

"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."

He almost caved in. Almost.

"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.

"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.

"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.

"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.

"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.

"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"

Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.

"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."

Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.

"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."

He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.

"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."

You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."

Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.

"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."

Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.

You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.

Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.

And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”

He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.

“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.

You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.

“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”

You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.

“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.

Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.

You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”

He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.

“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.

“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.

“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”

“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”

You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”

His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”

He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.

“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”

You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”

“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”

Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”

“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.

“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”

Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”

“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.

“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.

It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.

“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”

You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.

“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”

He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.

To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.

His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.

He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.

“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.

“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”

You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”

“Yes, corazón.”

You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping onto his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.

“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”

He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.

You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.

You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.

He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.

“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.

You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”

Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.

“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”

You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”

He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.

“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”

His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.