#and he was trying to do a weekly fucking shop

[timoswerner]

i love my grandad i really do but jesus fucking christ

[verystressedcollegestudent]

if there's one thing i hate more than slackers in group projects its goddamn hypocrites

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Love and Deep Pockets"

Our LADS Men are financially stable we know this however.....what kind of provider are they? Walk with me....

Zayne

Type: Head of Household

I see Zayne as the traditional head of the household type of man. However he respects you and understands that if you want to work you're free to do so. Just know that all the money you make is yours alone.

MC: Let me pay for something! Zayne: Just let me take care of you

If you really insist on paying he will let you if that's what will make you happy/feel better. Otherwise he's covering all the bills, dates, trips, etc. the only thing that gets split 50/50 are household duties and even then you have to strong arm your way into the kitchen or into doing any of the cleaning.

Zayne is incredibly self sufficient; he's clean and orderly. He is used to keeping his house clean and his clothes washed, pressed, and folded. He's almost unreal with how perfect he is.

The only time you really spend your own money is when it's a surprise for him or when you're alone. He enjoys taking care of you because he absolutely adores you. You're a dream come true and he'll do anything to keep you happy.

Rafayel

Type: Head of Household, False Sense of Independence Provider

If you want to be spoiled he's perfectly fine with that. He's rich and you're his babygirl as long as he can see that smile and be around you he's a happy camper.

Now if you are hell bent on splitting 50/50 Rafayel will let you think you two are splitting bills and things 50/50 meanwhile all the money you send him for half of anything he's putting it into an account that's just collecting interest. He will let you pay for anything and everything you want but best believe he's reimbursing you behind your back.

He'd laugh when you figure it out and try to cuss him out.

MC: I gave you that money to help with the bills Rafayel: and it did help .... it helped me giggle while you thought I'd actually let you pay for anything.

Xavier

Type: Head of Household, No Argument

Xavier is also traditional in a way I mean he's a prince. He is definitely providing everything with no argument. The day you decided to move in with him your bill paying days were over. He let you have your independence when you lived alone, but now you're in his care.

MC: I could've paid for it Xavier: I know but now you don't have to

You can go shopping, buy groceries, buy lunch .... if you're by yourself. If he's with you expect him to already be sliding his card into your hand or directly into the card reader before you can even pull yours out. You have to damn near fist fight this man to pay for anything.

Sylus

Type: Sugar Daddy, Head of Household, Spoiled Brat

SYYLLUUUSSSS. I need him in ways that are unhealthy. This man is spoiling the absolute FUCK out of you. He gave you his black card like it was nothing and asking to spend his money is a 'trivial matter'

You had a bad day? Deposit. You had a good day? Deposit. He misses you? Deposit. Just because? Deposit.

Don't even think about trying to pay for something with your own money. He's the type to hide your cards and slip his into your wallet just so you have no choice, but to spend his money.

MC: I have my own money you know Sylus: Im more than aware kitten I just dont care

Whats his is yours and what's yours is yours. That’s his mentality all he wants to do is make sure you want for nothing and you have the most comfortable life with him.

Don't worry if you still want to work he wouldn't stop you, but those weekly or biweekly checks are just going to be collecting interest because it won't be touched.

[luviestarz]

jungkook fic recs! 💘 part 2

𖤐 Champagne Confetti ⋆ j.jk - @busanboykoo (“you won't regret me, champagne confetti” or maybe just jungkook wants you to tell him what you want him to do to you.)

𖤐 oh how you love longhair!jungkook . . . - @twilghtkoo

𖤐 Your boyfriend looks a little too good in his police uniform. - @badbtssmut

𖤐 e s p r e s s o - @joonberriess (boxer!jk)

𖤐 trippin' over, gettin' lost on you | jjk (m) - @euphorajeon (a visit to the coffee shop you work at rewards jeongguk not only with a cup of coffee and a plate of brownie, but also with something else simmering deep in his veins. a challenge is issued, and all hell breaks loose.)

𖤐 Don’t Blame Me | sugar daddy!jungkook one-shot au - @ctrlsht (You can have everything you want and need as long as you have Jeon Jungkook by your side. You were enjoying everything that Jungkook gives you and as long as you’re with him. You’re sure to yourself that you will never fail him but he was the one who failed you. Everything is fine until he gets too much.)

𖤐 WELCOME TO THE HEARTBREAK SHOW ── jungkook - @numinousher (you’re in love with your partner in class that everyone fears (and loves) due to his stoic facial expression and the way he rejects girls rather harshly. as you get to know him, will he be able to handle your heart that you so willingly gave him to care for or, will he break it due to his hatred for people who are in love with him?)

𖤐 It’s hard to stop but once it starts, it starts - @byuljoonie

𖤐 concrete king. (m) jjk - @bratkook (when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could ever say no to him)

𖤐 baecation - @1kook (“Lose the top, or lose the right to present yourself in any low back gown for the next three months.” He truly knew the way to your heart.)

𖤐 test your morality (jungkook) - @trivia-yandere (jungkook's morality is tested when he's woken from his unconscious state to find you - his best friend - bound before him.)

𖤐 Needy | jjk oneshot - @jkslipppiercing (your boyfriend often helps you set up for your weekly girls' night...what happens when he gets needy for you only 15 minutes before your girl friends arrive?)

𖤐 ESCAPISM | JJK - @wnderkoo (୨୧ lipstick smudged like modern art..)

𖤐 Vérités Cachées (JJK) - @bangtanficsforyou (You try to make an escape from a beast, that you happen to have encountered while on a vacation with your boyfriend.)

𖤐 lonely hearts club (m) - @dovechim (jeon jeongguk has annoying little brother energy™. you know this deep in your bones. wedding after wedding, you keep running into him at the goddamn singles’ table, and he just won’t leave you alone. until you start to wonder... is he your ticket out of the lonely hearts club?)

𖤐 By Its Cover (M) - @gimmesumsuga (The one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.)

𖤐 The Deepest Marks of Essence - @lleldey (When you found yourself circled by a tribe, you never thought it would lead you to tap into your deepest wants and desires. You are the oldest child, the example of how one should act at all costs, but if you ever manage to escape this maze and if your story ever becomes told, you’ll never be looked at the same. But it’s hard to regret it when your nights are spent with gentle caresses and starry midnight skies. You got everything you secretly longed for, but at what cost?)

𖤐 every hour, every minute. (m) - @aajjks (jungkook can be an animal when it comes to fucking you sensless.)

𖤐 ONCE AGAIN, MILAN ! - (nsfw) - @frmisnow (what happens when you and jungkook find yourselves once again in milan, this time with no business attached — well a hol' lotta sex for sure!)

[bunnis-monsters]

Hi there I hope your doing alright and i hope all your haters stub their pinkie toe for the rest of the year!

Can i get a high elf a real sophisticated kinda snobby man being obsessed over his fem human readers soft frame in a sort of primal way?

Sexy time with the fancy man please!

A/N: I really liked this concept, maybe I’ll do a part 2 if peope want it!

It wasn’t often that people like him entered your bakery.

Elves in the area were known for being pretty snobby, refusing food touched by human hands even if they were starving.

So to say that you were surprised when a noble elf walked into your bakery and stood in front of your counter was an understatement.

“H-hello, how can I help you? All of the baked goods here are freshly made with ingredients sourced f-“

He cut you off his a wave of his hand, staring at you for a moment before speaking.

“… I’ll take all of it.”

You were so confused… an elf of his status was biting into one of your pastries, staring at you as he sat at one of the small tables in your bakery. It was an unusual sight… and it was scaring off your regulars.

This happened weekly for a few months. The elf would walk in, but all of your goods, the eat a few before leaving.

It made you a lot of money and helped you gain notoriety within wealthy human circles, but it still unnerved you.

What reason did he have for being there? As a child, you had always been warned to not mingle with elves too much.

They lived much longer lives, so they didn’t see human life as something that should be cherished since humans died within a century of being born.

But… you didn’t think this elf was out to harm you. He payed for your goods like any other customer would and never bothered you besides staring… so what was the harm in letting this continue?

Well you would find out one evening when he arrived later than usual, his eyes scanning your form in an almost hungry way.

You were just about to close up shop, but let him in hoping to sell your remaining pastries. Once he was inside, you switched over the open sign to close.

It seemed to please him that he had some sort of special privilege, allowed to stay when others wouldn’t be able to.

“Good evening, my dear. Usually I would be buying your lovely pastries… but I’m here for… something different today.”

Before you could ask what he wanted, the elf was already walking behind the counter and getting in your personal space. He removed the glove from his hand, gently caressing your chubby cheek.

“I’ve never felt the urge to… touch a human woman before. But… you certainly have brought out a different side of me.”

His touch was gentle, as if he were caressing the face of a goddess he had come to worship. You could feel your cheeks getting warm from the praise, not sued to being ass as something tantalizing and tempting to someone as beautiful as him.

“Y-your words are very kind, sir… b-but my shop is closing soon,” you answered shyly, looking away from his intense gaze.

“Oh, my little cherub… shh, this shop of yours is open just for me, is it not? You could have locked the doors and shooed me away, yet I am here.”

Before you could process it, you were being lifted up onto the counter, your dress slid up by his lithe hands so he could gaze at your plump thighs.

“So soft, gods what a beauty…”

It was kind of cute, the way his elf ears twitched as he looked at your body in awe, as if he had never seen a woman like you before.

His cheeks were red, his eyes hazy as he growled lowly before leaning forward to inhale your scent. His body shook with need, and with a strength you didn’t think the lithe man had, he pinned you down and rutted against you.

You could feel his hard cock pushing into your clothes pussy, as if trying to fuck you through you panties. His need for you was primal, animalistic, he was almost drooling.

Before he could rip off your underwear and take you there, he bit down on his lip, his fingertips nearly bruising your hips as he tried to calm himself.

“My apologies, love… it’s just so hard to… control myself when I’m around you…”

He kissed along your neck, biting down on a sensitive spot, causing you to whine out in surprise.

“Shh, my darling… come. Let us retire to my home. We have… much to discuss.”

Part 2?

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons

MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!

Soft headcanons:

Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.

Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.

"That one's real cute, baby."

"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."

"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."

He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.

Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...

"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.

"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.

"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.

"Shut up."

Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.

Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.

"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.

"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.

They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.

Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.

"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"

Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.

"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.

His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.

"North West? That's a fucking direction."

Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.

"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.

"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."

"I love you so much. More than anything."

Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.

Hope you enjoyed! xoxo

[sim0nril3y]

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon hasn't been able to stop thinking about your relationship and how not making a commitment to you might lead you to running off with someone else. He needs to solve this.

Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), suggestive thoughts, canon-typical swearing.

It was strange to Simon that the two of you had settled into routine together. Most nights he’d pick you up after finishing work, he’d bring you back to his home or drop you off at your flat. More often than not Simon would cook you some good food to fill up your empty tummy, then roll around in the sheets together. The next morning you’d wake up beside him and he’d set to making you a hearty breakfast and discuss plans for the days. Those plans typically of doing exactly what you’d done the day before, spending time together and… though he’d never say it aloud Simon enjoyed it, he looked forward to it.

There was the times when Simon was left feeling lonely because you weren’t around. It was when he wouldn’t see you from one day to the next because you were busy working on an art project or work had left you exhausted. Simon was a solitary person, not needing or even wanting other people around him, or… at least that was how he’d felt before meeting you.

So, what was this? A question that Simon had never asked himself before, but now it was burning inside of him. Never before had Simon desired clarification, but as it currently stood you were just two people living independent lives that slept with each other and spent time together. That left opportunity for you to find someone else and bring them into your life. He hoped that wasn’t the case, it certainly wasn’t something you’d mentioned before but it still left that door open for someone to take you from him.

The thought of losing you filled him with utter dread. How was he supposed to sleep at night with your body to curl around? He’d started buying extra food when doing his weekly shop, who was going to help him eat it all? Plus, all your favourite snacks were filling the cupboards, if you weren’t here then they’d just go to waste… Besides, there wasn’t another living soul out there that would be able to make you fall apart as quick as he could.

Bloody hell. He was in deep here.

That night after a long shift at work you were curled up beside him on the sofa, blanket draped over your legs, snacks between your lounging bodies and eyes fixed on whatever dumb show you’d thrown on the TV. You hadn’t seemed to notice that from beside you Simone was stewing silently, mind racing with how to broach the subject in the most subtle way.

These questions and that anxiety was beginning to build up inside of Simon, his knee was bobbing relentlessly, muscles wound tight, fingers tapping furiously against the arm of the sofa like a metronome. How was he going to do this? How was he going to ask for clarification on what you were to each other? What did he actually hope the answer was going to be? He wanted you, right? Only you. He didn’t want another living soul to have you… fuck, the thought of someone else having their hands and their lips on you. It made him seethe.

“What are we?” The question tumbled from his lips, short and frustrated. It caused you to look up at him, brows furrowed. “Sorry?” “You… do you ever do this with anyone else?” He looked down at you through intense dark eyes. “Do I… watch TV with other people?” You questioned, almost not following his line of questions.

Further frustrated Simon bit out. “Do you fuck anyone else?” That made you begin to fight a little smile, finally figure out what he was trying to ask. “And the rest of it… everything we do together… like going for walks, or to dinner… or just watching TV like this…” He gestured to the way you were lounging so comfortably behind him, sans any make-up and looking so relaxed. “Do you?” Simon asked, you simply smirked as you flitted you gaze back towards the TV and muttered easily. “Would it bother you if I did?”

This question only made him stew and simmer again at the thought of someone else being in your life like this. The thought of them kidding and making you fall apart only mad his anger bubble further. “Mm.” He grumbled out, keep his dangerous eyes locked on you.

Reaching across to rest a delicate hand on his tattooed forearm you mentioned softly. “I don’t do this with anyone else, Si.” You informed him, watching the tension leaving him body in that moment. “Only you.” You quip with a little shrug of your shoulders, before continuing. “If I’m not here with you then I’m at work and I’m wishing that I was here with you or counting down the minutes until I’m going to see you again or wildly ignoring all of tasks and remembering all my time with you.” There was vulnerability to your tone as you informed him that. “Then I see you and I’m happy in all those hours before I’m back to being on my own and wishing it’ll happen all over again.”

You were in deep too. With the way that Simon was looking at you, you could have been convinced that there wasn’t anyone else in the world. “Simon, are you trying to ask me something?” Reaching up you brushed your fingers against his face delicately before following with a gentle few kisses against his cheeks and temples and jawline. Every action made forced his body to relax, coaxing his anxiety away before finally the words came. “What if… we did do this everyday? Just… us two…”

You gnawed your lower lip. “I could get behind that.” You agreed with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. “So… if we did do this… what would I call you?” You quirked a brow at him. “My boyfriend?” Simon grimaced. “Love, I’m not a boy.” He muttered, snatching some of your snacks and beginning to munch away. “How about my lover?” You purred playfully and once again Simon groan and threw you a look. “So… just my Simon?” You raised your brows at him, this time he didn’t seem to fight your suggestion, simply smirked.

“Mm…” Then he nodded, much to your surprise. “And you’d be mine.” It was like your heart exploded in your chest, smiling at him and trying not to act overly excited and frighten him off. “I guess I would be~” Then leaning forward you kissed a couple sweet kisses. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? Not moving too fast?” You ask, concerned that Simon might change his mind all of a sudden and end up hurting you both. “M’sure, babe.” He responded, pressing a sweet kiss to your nose. "You're mine."

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2024

[suzukiblu]

Day nine of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: implications of past grooming/abuse and the inherent problems that causes for someone who was in that situation and hasn’t processed it trying to have a relationship with someone actually age-appropriate. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim doesn't let himself kiss Kon for quite as long as he wants to this time. He doesn't want to say he doesn't want to move too fast and then get them both all riled up five seconds later and, well–undercut that, or whatever. Or seem like he didn’t actually mean it, maybe. 

Also he does still need to make sure Kon’s gotten in enough calories today; he definitely still needs to do that. There’s gotta be a decent place they can get in last-minute with a carefully-applied bribe or two, if nothing else. Kon deserves “nice”, still, and also Tim is not gonna half-ass the date after that conversation. Whole-ass all the way. 

“Um,” he says, clearing his throat again. Kon grins all sunny and pretty at him and it is a very, very flustering sight. Tim wants to smudge his eyeliner and mess up his hair and buy him an entire apartment block, or at least a suburb or two. “Wanna find someplace to eat? Maybe look through a couple shops on the way?” 

“Oh, just a couple, huh?” Kon teases, his grin widening giddily. Tim feels very flustered. 

“I mean, we are in the shopping district,” Tim says, refusing to admit to any embarrassment about being that easily seen-through. He has an entire lifestyle to fund for Kon here, alright, and that he is gonna not only whole-ass but double-ass. Triple-ass, maybe. Quadruple. 

. . . though modeling age-appropriate relationship behaviors was already gonna be hard enough with how little personal dating experience he has, much less the sugar daddy thing. 

Yeah, that’s gonna require some planning. 

“And that was totally an accident, right?” Kon asks with a laugh that is actually more like a giggle than anything else, which Tim’s brain unhelpfully burns down an entire metaphorical warehouse district about. 

“I plead the fifth,” he says, tugging Kon back onto the sidewalk, and Kon giggles again and ducks his head as he shakes it, squeezing his hands one last time before letting go of one to follow him more easily. Tim feels stupidly wooed and soft and definitely wants to destroy the lives of everyone who has ever so much as mildly inconvenienced the adorable bastard. Kon wasn’t cute before, dammit. He was not prepared for Kon to turn out to be cute. 

“You are literally fucking ridiculous, babe, I hope you know that,” Kon tells him, still grinning as his face flushes again and tugging the collar of his jacket up over his mouth with his free hand. “Like, you actually got me a friggin’ flower, you friggin’ nerd. Like–seriously?” 

Tim can’t help suspecting Kon’s joking about that because flowers and cute little dating clichés aren’t the kind of thing he thinks anyone should bother doing for him, which honestly at this point seems like a pattern of behavior. Especially after earlier. Which–it's not like he didn't go into this already knowing that Kon's loudly overinflated self-esteem and cocky attitude was partially bluster and self-defense, but the more time they spend together like this, the more it seems less like “partially”, and more like “entirely”. 

Tim is going to get this adorable bastard so many flowers as soon as he gets him in a cul-de-sac to be keeping them in. He is gonna keep Kon in flowers until the goddamn heat-death of the goddamn universe. He’ll get a florist and set up a weekly order of varying tropical flowers and make sure the neighborhood is full of flowering bushes and trees and bring a bouquet to at least two dates a month, if not just literally every single one of them. 

“I wanted to,” he replies with a shrug, because that sounds more normal to say than any of the rest of it and sincerity seems to be the most efficient way to cut the legs out from underneath any attempts Kon’s making at downplaying the point of the gesture. “I was hoping you'd like it.” 

Kon turns red, then ducks his head and grins helplessly wide, still half-hiding his mouth behind his jacket collar. Tim feels an irrational urge to smother him. Like, affectionately, he means, but also kind of literally. 

Maybe he has some wires crossed right now, given how much of a workout the supervillain timeline’s been getting lately.

[skulla-rxcks]

Gaping guns

Paring: ot8 x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: gun fucking, face fucking, PIV, unprotected, group s3x

Day 12 of ktober - You wake up in a random house and agree to have sex with a group of men, not knowing that it would be the most pleasurable experience of your entire life.

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

I’m walking back my car after doing my weekly grocery shopping, all the heavy bags I’m carrying hurting my arms, they’re definitely going to leave marks. As I continue walking I can’t help but wonder why I parked so far away, yeah sure the parking lot was full but could I at least have found a spot closer? my feet move along the concrete dragging myself along. Suddenly I feel someone or something grab me from behind. I fall onto the concrete behind me and hit my head, completely blacking out.

I wake up on a rich velvet covered house in what seems like a fancy dining room, I rub my eyes and sit up, looking around. there’s eight men sitting around the room I’m in, are they the ones who brought me here? I wonder. “you’re awake. finally.” one of them says in a deep Australian accent; his hairs blonde with a strong but petite build. “what happened..?

where am I? who are you guys?” I ask him, my eyes scanning the other men in the room as I wait for an answer.

“don’t worry about that now,” another man replies to me, he also has a similar accent to the guy who woke me up, but a bit more buffness in this build, his biceps popping out of his tank top.

“we’ll take you home if you let us fuck you, yeah?” fuck me? hopefully not all eight of them,, right? “would you let us use you, bunny?” one of the eight says. “I.. okay. but what are your names so I know what to.. scream?” I ask, crossing my legs as I sink into the couch. “Chan, Felix, Han, Seungmin, Jeongin call him I.n if easier, Hyunjin and Minho, oh and I’m Changbin.” the one who called me bunny says, Changbin. “okay.. I’ll try remembering all of your names.” I respond. “good girl.. take off your clothes for us.” Chan says with his thick accent, walking behind me and putting a gun to my head, threatening to pull the trigger if I don’t. the gun intimidating me enough to make me strip right then and there. “undergarments too.” Han giggles, walking up to me with a knife, cutting my underwear and bra off with a quick swipe before pulling the ripped material from my body.

“legs open. princess.” He adds, his strong hands forcefully pulling my thighs open to reveal my already wet pinkish cunt.

Chan kneels down infront of me, licking a stripe down my soaked folds. “what are you.. nngh..” I moan out, the sensation of being touched by his tongue making me whimper already. “I’m tasting you baby girl.” He chuckles, spreading my folds open and thrusting 2 fingers inside of me, curling them up and finding my g spot almost immediately.

“Fuck!” I gasp. “We’ll do that soon enough baby.” He replies, making a joke out of my moans.

“Who wants her first? And which hole?” He asks the rest of the boys; Changbin says he wants my ass, Felix says my pussy and Jeongin says my mouth. I thought they’d all use me separately but I was wrong as I see the three men walk towards me while taking their pants and boxers off as well as their shirts. All of them seem to have amazing bodies, abs, muscles and perfectly fit, you can tell they work out quite a bit.

Chan moves away and stands behind me again, watching as the three boys position themselves at the entrance of my holes. I moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain as all of their dicks impale me at once; Changbin’s making me whimper the most,

I’ve never had anything in my ass before so it feels like he’s ripping me open. “Fuckk..~” I cry, my words muffled from Jeongin’s cock in my mouth, I hear him gasp as my words send vibrations throughout his length. Felix starts moving inside of my pussy, his cock rubbing slightly against Changbin’s through the small barrier of skin. “Dick… so much… mmgh!” My eyes roll back as all three of them start penetrating my holes, my entire body shuddering at the sensation.

The rest of the boys are watching, staring at the scene with lust filled eyes stroking their own dicks as they watch my body get absolutely destroyed.

Chan leans over and takes out his gun again, rubbing it against my clit, adding to the pleasure these strange men are giving me. Minho comes over, tired off waiting he rubs himself against my breasts, beginning to leak all over my chest, his groans adding to the noise we all are making as he rubs his dick against the soft skin repeatedly.

“I’m gonna fucking cum!” Felix blurts out “can I fill you up?” He asks, I shake my head in response. No. What If I get pregnant? As much as I’d love my womb being filled up with Felix’s seed I sadly have to say no. He ends up pulling out and cumming all over my stomach, leaving my pussy gaping while Jeongin and Changbin are still going at my mouth and ass.

Hyunjin begins to walk over, taking Felix’s place and beginning to penetrate my pussy, thrusting way harder than Felix did, making the sound of skin against skin echo in the room. Jeongin fills up my mouth with his warm salty semen, not pulling out until I swallow it all; Seungmin pushing him aside and using my mouth now.

“So pretty..” Chan giggles, slapping his cock against my face as he watches me get violated by his friends, watching and paying attention to every thrust filling up my holes, and every groan and moan that we all are making, as well as the noises of Changbin’s and Hyunjin’s balls slapping against me. “Stay still..” Changbin Groans, wrapping his hand around my neck as he fills up my asshole with his thick seed, the feeling of his cum in my ass making me feel all warm inside. in the meantime Minho stops rubbing against my breasts and takes my ass instead now, thrusting harder and harder until he releases his load inside of me, Hyunjin follows after and then not soon after Seungmin does too.

Everyone’s Either filled me up or their cums stained on my skin, just as I thought we were done Chan pushes the boys away and commands for them to sit down - as if he’s their leader or something. “I’m not done with you yet.” He says, standing in front of me, kneeling down before shoving his gun into my vagina thrusting it in and out of me. “C..chan..? That’s a gun not a.. a dildo..” I tell him, earning a chuckle from him in response. “I know that, but I’m going to use it as one.” He shoves it in me deeper and deeper making me squirm until I cum all over the gun, hopefully not ruining it.

“Bend over the couch, get into doggy. He demands, I do as he says, bending myself over the arm of the chair, arching my back as my ass sticks out for him. “Good girl” he smirks before pushing into my vagina, thrusting himself in and out of me at a rapid pace. Using one of his hands to squeeze and play with my ass, while using the other one to slowly finger my ass before bringing up the speed to match it with the pace of his thrusting. I moan in pleasure, tears forming in my eyes as he uses me; fucking me harder and faster than any of the guys did. It could just be that he’s extremely fucking horny or that his dicks bigger than the others. Either way, I don’t care. “Chan..!” I cry, tears running down my face, wetting my cheeks with a hint of a glistening sparkle from my makeup as my mascara and eye shadow runs down my cheeks with them.

“You feel so fucking good. I’m going to cum inside this little tight cunt.” He says, growling into my ear.

“No.. I’ll get pregnant!” I call out. “So? I’ll get you plan b pills after this. Just need this right now, need to cum inside this slutty cunt of yours it’s the only part of you that hasn’t been filled up yet.” Chan groans, pushing his cock deeper into my pussy. “A-ah. But.. b-b-but..” I try to reason with him but I can’t he’s too deep inside me for me to complain about it, I look over at the rest of the guys who are now pleasuring each other; sucking and jerking each other. Some of them even kissing. But I can’t seem to focus on that now, all I can take in and focus on his dick penetrating my pussy, Chan’s dick to be exact.

“God you’re so cute.. can’t even talk! Fuck I’m gonna.. I’m gonna fill you up with my seed, take it, take it all you slutty bitch!” He screams out as he releases himself inside my cunt. When he pulls out I moan, feeling empty again.

“Gonna go get the pills now.. if you’re still horny maybe have another round with the boys..” Chan chuckles as he walks out the door to get the contraceptives. I nod and walk over to the rest of the boys, wanting to. No. Needing to be fucked one last time.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 1

-Imagine that after John Wick wins his freedom from the High Table, he [re]retires to your sleepy little mountain town, where you work in a coffee shop...

-Your quaint little town tucked in the mountains is the kind of place people go to get away from it all, and you can’t help but wonder what Mr. Wick is running from. He is an unfairly handsome man. You nearly make a huge fucking fool of yourself, the first time he approaches your counter, so taken that you could hardly speak. For all his good looks there is something compellingly melancholy about him. You see it in his soulful dark eyes, and the set of his shoulders. You can see this man carries a weight beyond what anyone of his years should bear.   

-He becomes a regular at your little coffee shop, and you get over your shyness with him. He’s soft spoken, sometimes a little grumpy, but usually impeccably courteous compared to some of your unbearably entitled clientele visiting from the Big City for the ski resort or the hiking. He never orders anything fancy, just black coffee, and he likes to stay for an hour or so in the cozy cabin atmosphere of your shop. He favors a corner table tucked in the back by the river-stone fireplace, usually reading an old book, though sometimes you think he just sits, his attention fixed beyond the page he’s on, eyes not really seeing the room.

-You manage not to stare too hard, when you see him without gloves for the first time, and realize he is missing his left ring finger. You are not repulsed. You just wonder what happened to him.

-In time you notice he barely touches his unadorned coffee, and you wonder if he even likes it. You don't know where you get the cheek to tease this so-serious man. “Do you just order it like that to match your clothes?” You’ve never seen him in anything but head to toe black.

At first he looks at you as though you have grown a second head. Then he answers, completely dead pan, “Maybe it matches my soul.” 

You snort with laugher, not believing him.

Maybe you should have, looking back.

“Sure, Mr. Wick.”

The next day you surprise him with a cup of something you concocted with him in mind. It's nothing too scathingly original. Just a dark chocolate mocha, with a splash of hazelnut, and just a bit of steamed cream. “Try this,” you say, setting it on his table totally unsolicited. You feel validated, for he's barely touched his black coffee again. 

“What is it?” he asks, peering at it suspiciously. 

“I just think you might need something a little sweet.” 

He looks up at you through his long hair, and you don't know why, but a little chill runs down your spine. It's not fear, exactly. It's like walking in the woods, and stumbling on a powerful animal on the trail. Something that maybe could eat you, if it chose, but instead just disappears back into the dark trees.

You do not pester him anymore that day, even if it is the highlight of your shift sometimes. But when you go to clean up his dishes you do notice the cup you gave him is empty. 

He doesn’t come in for almost a week after that, and you fear that maybe you were too pushy and pissed him off with your boldness. 

Maybe it's a little pathetic, the way your heart leaps when he walks through the door again.

“I’ll have…whatever that thing was you made the other day.”

You try not to gloat, but your lips twist in a smile.

-It becomes your little mission in life to make this man smile, and if just the corner of his mouth ticks up at some point during his visit you feel as though you’ve accomplished a good thing.

Maybe it’s totally a cliché, but you’re an artist, and when you’re not making coffee, or cleaning up coffee, you draw bright designs on the chalkboard around the menu with your pastels. You make elaborate landscapes and art nouveau maidens inspired by Mucha. People in town seem to enjoy your weekly designs, which is nice, even if it’s not entirely the recognition you crave. Four years of art school just to doodle on the chalkboard, you can hear your father say. He’s not wrong, but it still stings.

One day, you sketch Mr. Wick reading in the corner on the back of a discarded receipt. He is…such a lovely man. When you walk past you slip it on the table for him. You don’t let yourself watch his reaction. If you had, you would have seen his expression soften, the stony façade cracking even if just for a moment.

Is this how you see him? Not some broken down old man, the way he absolutely feels after his war with the High Table, but something…not unpleasant to look at.

You don’t know it at the time, but this is the action that sets off an avalanche. You wake a sleeping beast in him, and a dark obsession begins to kindle.

[ayeforscotland]

what do you think of the reveal that nicola sturgeon deleted all her covid whatsapp messages?

I honestly don’t care, and not for the reason you think.

I’m exhausted. I saw this on twitter two days ago and I quote tweeted it.

My utilities bill is higher than ever, my weekly shop is more expensive than ever, I have no savings after giving it all to my boiler and even then I had to ask people for help.

I do not give a fuck about covid what’s app messages, which aren’t important anyway because What’s App wasn’t used as an official communication channel throughout the pandemic.

I do not give a shit when the worst people in Scottish politics try to hype up a scandal.

‘Dame’ thick-as-shit Jackie Baillie who lied to elderly voters about their pensions during the independence referendum.

Misogynist Alex Cole-Hamilton who still ducks media scrutiny over everything the former Scottish LibDem CEO, Emma Walker, has came public with.

And racist little cunt Douglas Ross who’s ‘if he was prime minister for the day’ fantasy was harsh restrictions on the Gypsy, Roma, Traveller community.

I do not care what these pile of arseholes think is a huge scandal when me and all my friends are struggling with basic needs. Friends who were managing fine a few months ago and are now aggressively budgeting to make ends meet.

[gothcsz]

Need To Know | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~8.6k wc | Part 3 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: The aftermath of Javier knowing who his gatita is.

Tags: stalking, dirty talk, oral (m receiving), vaginal fingering, sex in front of a mirror, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it), spanking, creampie, pwp, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, reader speaks spanish, we're altering canon timeline just a bit, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i had every intention of making this a three part series but i'm just... in love with these two so expect maybe one or two more works with them 🖤 this one's for all my s3 javi truthers out there. i see you, i recognize you, we stand together 🙂‍↕️ mwah, disfruten 💋

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

“Stoddard, my office. Now.”

The younger agent just about craps his pants at his boss’s authoritative tone, getting looks from both Feistl and Van Ness.

“Someone’s in trouble.”

There’s a few hushed laughs as the door to Javier’s office closes. He goes to sit at his desk, pulling out your press lanyard, which is right next to the envelope that holds your naughty polaroids, from the top drawer and he hands it across to him.

“Have you seen this woman before?”

The second Stoddard recognizes your face, he blinks rapidly and swallows thickly before attempting to disguise his reaction with an unconvincing shake of his head.

“No boss.”

Javier laughs humorlessly, scratching at his jaw.

“Alright let’s try that again, except this time you’re going to tell me the truth.”

And just like that, Stoddard folds. He tells his superior everything; from the run ins at the market to the almost weekly debriefs you two shared in various coffee shops around the city.

So that’s how you’ve been getting information. Using that grit of yours that’s driven him crazy since the first night you showed up. Enlisting in the help of a more… timid agent.

But he’s sure that any man you approached would have crumbled like Stoddard, abandoning anything to fulfill whatever you asked of him.

After all, you’ve got Javier, the boss, wrapped around your finger— completely at your mercy. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it.

The silence that settles is thick until Javier asks, “Did you sleep with her?”

Stoddard’s reaction is almost cartoonish. His eyes widen, and this time, he gives a more frantic, convincing head shake. “N-no sir absolutely not!”

He just had to make sure, despite you telling him that it’s only been him. Though that could have easily been a heat of the moment thing.

Once upon a time, he was the one sleeping around for information, so it wouldn’t be far-fetched to think that you were doing the same.

Kind of hypocritical of him to be worked up over the prospect of you indulging in similar antics.

Anything to get a good story— so why not fuck with the DEA’s head?

He’s not usually this possessive over his partners, but you’re unlike any of the others and it’s aggravating how you’ve got him wound up so tight.

“Next time you want to feed information to the press, you tell me first. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Go.”

He dismisses the younger agent and Stoddard eagerly departs. Javier’s never seen him move that fast.

His initial reaction to knowing your identity was to track you down and immediately confront you. But after many contemplative drinks and cigs; he decided against it.

It was too impulsive, and he wasn’t sure what he would do once he was face to face with your unmasked countenance.

The downfall of Cali had also put a pin in his plans, with him so wrapped up in finding then reprimanding the right people— all the while watching his back from the assholes on Uncle Sam’s side. 

Now, after doing all that he could in his fucking job, he’s able to return to this, to you, with much less on his shoulders. For the time being.

He asked his secretary about you next, and that’s where he figured out where he remembered you from.

“She called and asked for a meeting weeks ago, but as per your request; I told her no can do.”

Then you proceeded to wait outside for him, despite the pouring rain, and he had regrettably blown you off.

To his defense, he was dealing with a lot of bullshit that day (as he always is) and didn’t have the time to stop and chat with a pretty reporter.

He then asked the security guard that was working the night you visited his office if he recognized you, to which the older man immediately said, “Si, su prometida.”

He found himself smirking at that, amusement curling at the edges of his mouth.

“¿Tiene vídeo de seguridad de esa noche?”

And with that, he was able to see how you conned your way up to his floor and into his office. There was no audio, just the visual of you leaning over the desk and using your body to distract this poor old man, your hand raising to show off the ring, then you excitingly striding over to the elevator that was off screen.

He supposes he should be alarmed, wary of you, but he isn’t.

He’s dealt with the media and journalists countless of times, he knows how relentless they can get. It’s no surprise that you share the same characteristic.

It’s all piecing together. Catalyst, motive, execution. Though he does wonder why exactly you’re doing this.

Was it to get ahead of any story pertaining to Cali? Maybe something else that’s unraveling beneath Javier’s nose that he hasn’t sniffed out yet?

Your motive is lost on him, which is why he needs to launch a small, personal investigation of his own to figure out what exactly you’re after.

He stakes out your job for a day but you never come in and it makes him antsy. He could pull some strings, do some flirting around the embassy to get information on an American journalist working in the capitol.

But he won’t. Instead, he takes a page from your book— even though he has no idea that you’ve been the one watching him all this time.

Then it happens. You show up, instantly capturing his attention.

The sun bathes everything in a golden light, but it seems to focus especially on you, making you glow as you bound up the steps of the building.

You’re wearing a pretty dress that momentarily short-circuits his brain, gaze lingering on how well it fits your figure.

Vivid images of your body writhing beneath his, shaking the desk while he fucked you senseless, cloud his mind and his jaw tenses.

He’s torn, flitting through the outcomes of how a confrontation would go if he were to do it now, when you reemerge from the building, heading back down the street you came.

Javier decides to follow you.

He watches as you stop to have lunch, chatting with the waitress that tends to you as you sit outside, notebooks spread out on the table with your head bowed over them in concentration.

He wonders what you’re working on.

He watches as you run your errands; stopping by the dry cleaners to pick up your pressed blouses and pencil skirts.

After, you wander through an outdoor market, carefully selecting fresh fruit. That’s where he learns you have a particular fondness for mangos and plums.

Then lastly, a video store that you spend way too much time in before coming out, and he’s upset that he can’t tell what tapes you’ve rented out for the evening. 

This is no different than any of the previous stakeouts he’s done, that’s how he rationalizes watching you for the rest of the week.

When he isn’t drowning in work at the office, he’s trailing you through the city, piecing together the details of your daily life.

He notices the subtle nuances that define you— the little habits and preferences that make you who you are.

Yet, despite all this observation, he still wonders how the fuck he’s going to confront you about it all.

Javier finally reaches his breaking point after a fruitless day of searching Bogotá for you.

Now, he’s back at his usual spot, parked outside your workplace, chewing his gum with a vengeance while his leg bounces restlessly in the cramped space of his car.

Fuck this.

He’s done with the cat-and-mouse game.

It doesn’t take much persuasion to get your boss to lead him to your cubicle. The man even boasts about the view, claiming it’s the best in the city, before leaving Javier alone.

He studies the photos of you and friends from back home on your desk, postcards that you’ve been meaning to send, a kaleidoscope of colorful post-it notes with a variety of reminders and to-do’s scattered about.

Everything about you is vastly different from the gatita he knows.

His gaze settles on your address book, tucked discreetly between binders and folders. After a quick glance around to ensure no one is watching, he slides it out, flips it open, and quickly scribbles down your apartment and phone number before carefully placing it back in its original spot.

Looking out of the window, he notices the panoramic view of the city; with the embassy building in perfect line of sight. That can’t be a coincidence.

He leaves after that, resolute on making his way to your apartment, when his mobile phone begins to ring.

Muttering a quick fuck, he answers.

“Peña.”

“Es Carolina. I’m ready to meet.”

The President of Colombia’s campaign was partially funded by the cartel in return for amnesty deal.

Cartel members are now being extradited to the United States.

It’s all big. fucking. news. You’re rushing to la Casa de Nariño just like every other reporter is, all eager to get the best seat at the impromptu press conference that’s being held.

With your camera, recording device and determination in hand, you’re racing up the marbled steps to join the crowd when you’re stopped by an officer.

“Sólo personal y la prensa pueden pasar por este punto.”

“Yo soy reportera.” You hiss, narrowing your gaze.

“Pruébalo. Identificación, por favor.”

He gives you a look that makes you want to knock his teeth out but you refrain from doing so, grumbling out some expletives and reaching for the familiar lanyard around your neck… only to find it gone.

Your confusion is written all over your face and the officer flashes you a shit-eating grin.

“Sin identificación no hay entrada.”

You were so eager to get here that you hadn’t thought twice about it since you always have it on you.

Pissed off that you’re being denied access because of your own oversight, you turn on your heel and quite literally stomp all the way back to your car.

You can feel that smug asshole staring you down.

You search between the seats of your car, finding nothing but crumpled receipts and loose change— even that tube of lipgloss you’d lost forever ago, but no lanyard.

It has to be at your apartment. After everything that happened with Javier, you took some much-needed time off work to clear your head and regain your focus. You haven’t set foot in the office for a few days now, and even the last time you were there, it was just a quick visit—no reason for you to have brought it along.

Fuck, you hope you’re able to make it back in time to catch some semblance of the story. If not that, then at least to snap some good photos of the aftermath.

What a rookie-fucking-move. And today of all days.

Your heels and pencil skirt make the four-flight sprint to your floor a challenge, but you’d rather tackle the stairs than endure the agonizingly slow elevator that creeps up the building like a dying snail.

With hurried hands, you unlock the door and dash inside, immediately diving into the piles of magazines on your coffee table. When you find nothing, you frantically search every corner of the room, but your efforts come up empty.

A groan of frustration escapes your lips, and you mutter a string of curses under your breath as you head toward your bedroom.

This morning, you distinctly remember closing the door behind you. Now, it stands wide open, but in your haste, the irregularity doesn’t register.

As you step inside, your heart plummets to your stomach, the sensation akin to that gut-wrenching drop on a terrifying amusement park ride.

There, dressed in a navy suit with his hands on his hips is Javier Peña, studying the shrine you’ve made of him on the wall.

How the fuck did he get in?

Your mouth feels like it’s filled with cotton, the room spinning. Despite knowing that you’re standing right there; his focus remains ahead.

“You’re very detailed.”

You’re trembling now, the weight of your secret being exposed dragging you down as if cinderblocks have been chained to your ankles and you’re being thrown into a bottomless pit.

What do you say? What is there to say? 

Oh hey Javier! Yeah don’t mind that. It’s not like I’ve been stalking you for weeks. That’s absurd!

“Why— how—” Your voice sounds so small, the words failing to form on your tongue and this has him finally turning to face you.

The urgency you felt before is now long gone and replaced with crippling anxiety and embarrassment. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as you stare into those captivating brown eyes of his.

“Figured I’d be a good person and return this to its owner.” 

He pulls the goddamn press lanyard from inside of his jacket pocket, and your eyes widen in shock.

That night in his office. Surely you must’ve left it there unknowingly. Idiot!

He tosses it carelessly onto your dresser, his gaze never breaking yours, as he slowly begins to close the distance.

Your pulse quickens with each step he takes, the space between you shrinking until you can taste the tension in the air.

“Javi—”

“Shh,” he hushes, beginning to circle you, moving with the deliberate grace of a predator closing in on its prey.

The tables have turned. It’s his turn to wield the power. 

You obey, instinctively biting your lower lip as his eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight of your work attire.

They linger on the curve of your ass, then slide up to the way your blouse clings to your chest, tracing every contour.

A slow burn ignites within you, heat pooling at your core from the intensity of his presence.

“Wasn’t very hard to get your address and it was even easier convincing your landlord to let me in. The fiancé bit is genius, no wonder you used it down at the embassy.”

Shit, he knows about that too. You wonder just how much he’s figured out.

“You’ve been watching me for a while now, haven’t you gatita?” 

You whimper, hearing the name out in broad daylight and without your mask on feeling taboo for some reason.

He finally positions himself behind you, his warm breath grazing your ear as he brushes your hair aside, exposing the vulnerable skin of your neck.

“Breaking into my apartment. My office.”

Before you can respond, his strong hands seize your waist, pulling you flush against him. You gasp, feeling the undeniable pressure of his erection pressing against your ass as he grinds into you.

“Snooping around my employees.”

One of his hands slides up, fingers digging into your breast with a rough possessiveness that makes you moan, your head falling back onto his shoulder in surrender.

You gaze up at him, your breath hitching as his eyes slowly roam over your face, lingering on the curve of your cupid’s bow, the elegant arch of your brow, the softness of your cheeks—his admiration leaving you breathless, yearning for more.

“Getting everything you need for your stories then fucking with me on the side. Think you’re so clever, huh?”

The hand on your hip begins its descent, trailing down until his fingers are toying with the hem of your skirt. He lets them linger, teasingly brushing against the bare skin of your thigh just above the edge of your skin-toned stockings.

“I shouldn’t even be here giving you what you want. But you’ve got me wrapped around that beautiful little finger of yours. I couldn’t stay away even if I tried.”

A desperate sound escapes your lips as his fingers slowly glide to the inside of your thigh. His knee nudges your legs wider apart, allowing him to lightly graze over your slit, the barrier of your cotton panties doing little to dull the feeling.

What? You hadn’t expected to get laid today. Well… if all had panned out how you hoped— you actually would’ve been making another house call tonight after the press conference.

But he’s bested you. Beat you at your own game. 

“Dime. ¿Que quieres?”

“You, Javi, I want you.”

“Is that why you’ve been following me around everywhere? Getting classified information on my operations?”

His thick fingers press firmly against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear, and your hips instinctively buck, seeking more of that delicious friction.

“Yes,” you moan softly, biting down on your lower lip as his thumb circles over your stiffened nipple, which strains against the fabric of your bra and silk blouse. “I was assigned to cover you and your involvement with Cali. After everything with Escobar, everyone was betting that you’d follow the same formula to bring the others down.”

Javier’s chest rises and falls heavily, his eyes searching yours and teeth gritting at the subtle mention of his tactics when it came to bringing down Escobar.

“But the more I got to know about you, the more interested I became.”  You confess, the words spilling from you with unguarded honesty. There’s no reason to keep the cards so close to your chest anymore. 

You’ll tell him everything, and if he decides to let you go after having his way with you one final time, then so be it.

You’ll just make sure to make it extra memorable for him if that’s the case.

“So handsome. So capable. Fucking brilliant and tough. I fell in love with you, Agente Peña.”

He grunts in response, leaning in so that his aquiline nose grazes the smooth skin of your cheek, his lips hovering just shy of yours.

“Is that right? La gatita fell in love?”

You nod timidly, wanting nothing more than to press your lips against his and kiss him.

His fingers continue their torment, now nudging your underwear aside to press directly against the slick, swollen flesh of your cunt.

Your eyes flutter closed, your body trembling in his arms as you feel the pressure building within you.

“So what happens if I don’t feel the same, hm? What if this is nothing but a good fuck to me? What then, clever girl?”

He teases your clit in slow, tight circles, his words cutting into your heart, but the pleasure he’s giving you drowns out the sting.

His touch is intoxicating, making it impossible to think clearly.

“Then I’ll get over it and move on,” you manage to whisper, grinding your hips in sync with his movements, your juices coating his fingers as he parts them into a V, massaging your sensitive labia.

A whiny moan slips out of you, and his hand moves from your breast to your throat, wrapping around it with a gentle squeeze.

“Mírame.”

His commanding tone snaps your eyes open, locking onto his. Their usual warm toned color now drowned in darkness to match his lust.

“Move on? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have?”

Without warning, he plunges two thick fingers deep inside you, and your back arches against him, a breathy sigh of his name slipping from your lips.

“Wouldn’t even try to convince me otherwise, gatita?”

“What do I look like convincing a man to love me?”

Javier’s grip on your throat tightens, his jaw clenching at your words as his fingers thrust in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. “You know I’m just bullshitting. I’m never letting you go.”

He curls his fingers, expertly brushing against that sensitive, spongy spot inside you that dots your vision, and you gasp, your nails digging into his forearm as a surge of ecstasy ripples through you.

You can’t tell if the words he’s saying are born from genuine emotion or just fueled by the ferocity of his horniness.

But in this moment, it doesn’t matter. You push the logical part of your mind aside and surrender to the sensation, allowing yourself to be consumed by his touch, his words, his passion— everything that drives you wild about him.

Javier finally claims your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth with an urgency that leaves you lovestruck.

You moan softly, sucking on his tongue before playfully nipping at his lower lip.

He grunts in response, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he shifts the rhythm of his fingers inside you, coaxing out every moan and whimper of bliss.

He swallows each sound greedily, deepening the kiss, making it clear that in this moment, he’s completely lost in you.

“That’s right, baby, come all over my fingers. I can feel you clenching around them.” He scissors his digits inside you, each movement drawing you closer to the edge.

Your wetness has smeared everywhere, squelching sounds of his fingers fucking you only helping him in his quest to make you come.

His cock grinds against your ass, hard and insistent, and the urge to reach down and palm him through his work slacks is overwhelming.

But the way he has you positioned, and the dizzying gratification he’s giving you, makes it impossible to do anything but take it.

“Javi,” you sigh, your voice trembling with need, “I’m so close. Dame un beso.”

He smirks, adding his thumb to the mix as he presses it firmly against your throbbing clit.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss just as your thighs begin to tense, and your orgasm crashes over you with breathtaking intensity.

You ride out the waves of aftershock, your lips parting from his as you struggle to catch your breath.

Javier’s mouth moves to your ear, whispering sweet words that make you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, completely wrapped in the afterglow of him.

He slowly withdraws his fingers from you, and they’re coated in your release, glistening in the sunlight that pours in from your bedroom windows.

Without breaking eye contact, he brings them to his mouth, sucking them clean and that makes you whimper, the familiar heat of arousal already rekindling deep in your core.

“Open that pretty mouth, gatita.”

Obediently, you part your lips, and he leans in close, letting a thick drop of his spit fall from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow.”

The command is electrifying, leaving you feeling all charged with a tension only Javier can elicit.

You swallow, the faint taste of yourself mixed with his saliva lingering on your tongue, and it’s the hottest, most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced.

He swiftly spins you around in his arms, and you instinctively wrap yours around his neck as your lips crash together in a passionate kiss.

The potency of it makes your head spin, and his hands are everywhere—exploring your curves, tracing the length of your body until they find the zipper of your skirt.

With a swift tug, he pulls it down and pushes it over your hips, letting it fall to the floor in a soft rustle of fabric. You step out of it, slipping off your heels in the process, all while your lips remain locked with his.

Your fingers eagerly push his suit jacket off his shoulders, and you waste no time unbuttoning his shirt, your hands shaking with anticipation.

“How much do you like this blouse?” he murmurs against your lips, his large hands moving up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric.

“I don’t really—”

Before you can finish, he’s ripping the blouse apart, buttons flying as he tears it open to reveal your bra-clad chest.

The sheer force of it catches you off guard, and you gasp, the sound muffled by his mouth on yours. The unrestrained eagerness in his action only serves to turn you on further, making your heart race even faster.

When you’re both stripped down just to your underwear, you begin to lead him to your bed but he stops you, once again pulling you back until you’re flush against his warm, solid chest.

“We’ve got plenty of other opportunities to fuck in bed. I want to take you right over here.”

His words have anticipation dancing up your spine as he gently steers you toward the large, full-length mirror in the corner of your room. When you’re standing in front of it, your eyes lock with his in the reflection.

“Look at how gorgeous you are, nena. Why would you hide such a pretty face behind a mask?”

Javier’s strokes your cheek affectionately, truly in awe with how beautiful you are. Then, his touch moves to your arms, and he drags one of your bra straps down your shoulder.

His lips follow the path of exposed skin with open-mouthed kisses, each one igniting a fire on your skin.

You let out a shaky breath. “You blew me off once. I didn’t want it to happen again. Thought keeping my identity a mystery would make me more enticing.”

His touch is deliberate, savoring every inch of your skin as he teases you. The sight of his sinewy hands on you, combined with his heated gaze in the mirror, makes your heart race and your core ache with need.

His nose glides up the curve of your shoulder until he’s kissing your neck. His tongue flicks out to trace a path up to your ear, biting down on the lobe gently.

“Don’t take it so personally, gatita,” he murmurs in a seductive purr. “I had a lot going on that day.” His fingers deftly undo the clasp of your bra, letting it fall and revealing your bare breasts.

A low groan escapes him as he takes in the sight. His hands move to cup your tits, relishing in their warmth and weight in his palms.

You shift restlessly, your thighs rubbing together as your breaths come in quick, ragged gasps. His fingers play with your nipples, pinching and tugging until they’re tender and stiff.

Desperate for more, you reach back between the two of you and grasp his hard cock. A pleased hum escapes you as you feel the damp spot of precum seeping through the cotton.

“Want you in my mouth, baby,” you coo, regaining your confidence as he smiles against your neck, planting a soft kiss on your pulse before stepping back to let you spin around and sink to your knees.

He swiftly pulls down his boxers, and you don’t waste a second. You envelop his fat tip between your lips, skipping the usual teasing.

Javier’s voice, deep and gravelly, drawls your name in a way that sends jolts of excitement straight to your clit. You move your head rhythmically, your tongue tracing along his underside as you blow him with eagerness, losing yourself in the act.

He grips the back of your neck, guiding you as he begins to thrust into your mouth, making you gag and drool over his cock.

“Shit, just like that,” he groans, his eyes shifting from looking down at you to the mirror, where he watches, absolutely satisfied, as you expertly suck him off.

Your mouth travels down to his balls, your tongue teasing the fleshy sack, saliva pooling in your mouth before spitting on them, then you suck one into your mouth.

He tenses, cursing fervently in Spanish as you move to the other, giving it the same attentive care while your hand wraps around his throbbing dick, stroking him.

“Such a fucking sight, gatita,” he growls. “Swallowing my cock like a good little slut. I’m tempted to paint that pretty face of yours with my cum.”

The thought of it has lustful excitement buzzing through you, a muffled moan vibrating against his cock that prompts him to pull you off roughly.

He grips the base of his shaft and smacks it a few times against your mascara, tear-streaked cheeks— it’s evidence of your eager submission. His cock, wet and heavy, leaves a trail of slickness on your skin.

He traces his plush head over the curve of your lips that are glimmering from the messy blowjob. You pucker up, pressing a fat, wet kiss to his flushed tip.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

You flash him a playful, cutesy smile, and he tenderly caresses your cheek again, making your heart skip a beat.

With a gentle touch, he kneels on the carpet alongside you, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before guiding you into position.

On all fours, facing the mirror, his broad, handsome frame looming behind you. Javier’s dark eyes meet yours through the reflection, intense and full of promise.

He’s going to give it to you good.

His hands trace the curves of your body, caressing and kneading with an adoring touch, cherishing the feel of every part of you.

It’s a contrast to the frantic pace of previous hook ups— much more like the sweet aftercare he gave you that night in his office.

Javier pulls down your panties, a lopsided smile playing on his lips as he takes in the sight.

You’re completely exposed in front of him.

“Tan hermosa, gatita.”  he murmurs, his voice a husky caress. “You don’t understand how good it feels seeing all of you now. Fantasized about this so many nights.”

He bends over, his lips brushing tender kisses along the back of your shoulder, then trailing down the curve of your spine. You arch your back, instinctively responding to his touch.

The way you both connect so seamlessly speaks of the depth of your intimacy and how quickly it evolved.

“I tried to bury myself in other women,” he confesses. “It didn’t fucking work. No pussy is as good as yours.”

His name escapes you in a sweet whimper, “Javi,” and his hands grip the lush curves of your hips

You feel a twinge of jealousy bloom at your chest at hearing that he’s been with other women, while you have not even thought about another man since laying eyes on him.

“Accusing me of spreading my legs for the entire city, meanwhile it’s been you all along. I shouldn’t even let you fuck me, you whore.”

A sharp, stinging crack echoes through the room as his hand lands on your ass, the sudden impact making you jolt forward.

“Ah!” you yelp, the sting of the spank sending a rush of heat through you.

“No empieces con esas babosadas, gatita. I’ll make you eat your fucking heart out.”

“Sounds delicious,” you quip, your tone teasing and sultry.

Another spank lands, and you don’t bother hiding how much you enjoy it. Your reflection in the mirror smirks back at him, and you catch the sly, satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Traviesita,” he tuts in a reprimand. His length slides teasingly along your folds, the head of his cock pressing insistently against your clit.

The feeling is electrifying, causing your confident smirk to fade into a biting, anxious grip on your lower lip.

Your wetness mingles with his precum and your saliva from before, creating a slick, intoxicating lubricant that allows him to glide effortlessly into your tight, hot cunt.

Your face, heated with desire and utterly exposed, meets his gaze in the mirror as his cock slowly disappears into your pussy. 

It feels profoundly intimate.

The weight of his thick cock filling you, coupled with that fucking look that he has on his face, deepens the connection and amplifies the feeling that you have for him, making the experience even more consuming.

It’s going to be so hard to move on if he decides you’re not what he wants.

Once he bottoms out, your head drops forward between your shoulders, a quivering exhale escaping your mouth and your arms lightly shaking.

The overwhelming fullness of him stretching you makes your entire being blaze with vehemence. Each inch of his cock that he feeds into your pussy ignites a cascade of euphoric delight, leaving you panting and needing more.

“Eyes on me, nena,” he commands softly yet firmly, a blend of authority and tenderness.

The demand to keep your gaze locked with his only heightens your senses. His gun calloused hands grip your waist with a steadying force, guiding you as he moves inside you.

It’s a downright delicious feeling, your folds gripping onto his shaft and spreading with each shallow thrust he delivers. 

You admire how sexy he looks as he begins to fuck you. His brows furrowed in concentration, his jaw clenched tight, occasionally flexing with each thrust. Your cunt continues to swallow him back in, begging him not to go. 

His pretty pink lips, so kissable and enticing, make you wish you weren’t bent over like this so you could taste them. But then he delivers a particularly forceful snap of his hips, making you cry out.

You instinctively move your ass back against him, your mind cleared of all thoughts that aren’t his girthy cock.

“Mira que bella te vez taking this cock. Fuck yourself on it, don’t be shy baby.”

You can’t help the flutter in your heart as he calls you beautiful, the compliment urges you to do as you’re told.

You slide your knees apart slightly, adjusting your position to get better leverage as he stills, cock pressed so deep inside of you, you can practically taste it coming up your throat.

You begin to move your hips slowly, sensually, setting a rhythm that lets him slip in and out of you with a deliberate, tantalizing pace.

It’s electrifying, your thighs slapping against his with each thrust. The ripple of flesh on your ass is captivating, drawing his attention completely.

Javier is torn between the sight of you splitting yourself open on his cock and the blissful, fucked-out expression that adorns your face. Both are equally mesmerizing, and he can’t decide which is more arousing.

“So fucking pretty,” he voices with a deep growl of approval, overwhelmed by the visual feast.

He lavishes you with praise in both English and Spanish, his words stoking the fire of your arousal. The way you move back against him grows more urgent, and his hands find their way to your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to get a better view of the connection between your bodies.

Groaning deeply, Javier starts to match your rhythm, his thrusts synchronized with your movements. The pace you both settle into causes your core to tighten, the build-up of your second orgasm sneaking up on you with a mounting vigor.

Your knees ache from the friction against the carpet, but the discomfort blends with your fervor, pushing you closer to the edge of your climax.

As your eyes lock with his again, you convey that you’re on the brink wordlessly. He tilts his head with a patronizing smirk, his brown eyes dancing with a mischievous sparkle.

“Already, gatita?” he chuckles smugly, his voice laced with playful arrogance. “S’okay, let go for me. I’ve got you.”

His words are the final catalyst, and it’s both exhilarating and a bit embarrassing how quickly he makes you finish.

He’s the first man to ever make you come from just penetration, and you can’t help but let him revel in this achievement.

As you come, your pussy quivers and your walls pulse around him, your creamy release coating his cock while you scream out his name.

The eye contact makes it hotter, despite the struggle to keep yours open.

Javier continues to fuck you through your orgasm, even as you go limp, your arms giving out. Your chest falls onto the carpet, your cheek pressing against the textured fabric, completely surrendering to the blissful exhaustion that overtakes you.

He pulls out with a soft groan, his cock swollen and pulsating, glistening with your mixed juices. It rests between your ass cheeks as he bends over you, his lips trailing gentle, reverent kisses across your heated skin. He moves from your lower back up to your ear.

“¿Todo bien, corazón?”

The new term of endearment makes you moan softly, your head nodding in response, eyes closed as you struggle to catch your breath.

His mouth continues its tender assault, soothing you with its gentle touch, yet you can’t ignore the subtle way his hips grind against you, his shaft brushing against the soft skin of your ass and teasing your puckered hole.

“You didn’t finish.”

“I’m more focused on trying to get you out of the clouds than getting mine right now,” he replies, his sincerity cutting through the haze of your arousal.

You smile, his sweet statement pulling you back into the familiar, heady trance he always manages to put you in.

It reignites your lust, bringing you to the throbbing need he so effortlessly inspires.

You push yourself upright onto your knees, pressing firmly against him as his hands explore every part of you they can reach.

“On your back, agente,” you purr in a sultry and commanding tone.

His eyes narrow, curiosity and challenge evident, but he obeys, shifting away from you and laying flat on his back, positioning himself horizontally from the mirror.

The reflection is, for lack of a better word, hot as hell. His beautiful figure sprawled out on the floor, messy dick just waiting for you to take a ride.

You crawl over him with sensual grace, echoing the way you broke into his apartment on that rainy night, your mouth working to milk his cock.

As you reach his groin, you pause, your gaze meeting his. He’s already watching you intently, making you feel like you’re the only girl in the world. You give him a playful wink, then stick out your tongue, licking his shaft clean of your cum.

Your name vibrates in his chest, followed by a litany of expletives and you hum contently at the reaction. With a satisfied smile, you straddle his hips, positioning yourself perfectly above him. 

“Think your back can handle this?” you tease, grinding your freshly fucked, sensitive cunt against his hard, naked cock. Leaning over him, you place your hands on either side of his head, your lips just inches from his.

His hands seize your ass with a rough grip, fingers digging into the flesh as he guides your hips to rock against his length. “Muñequita, don’t be such a tease. I’m letting you take whatever you want.”

“You’re not letting me do anything,” you breathe out, tightening your thighs around his hips, locking him in place.

He could easily overpower you, but he won’t. The sight of you on his lap, completely cock drunk with only his touch to satiate you—your breasts hanging enticingly close to his face, your pussy grinding along his length—is more than enough for him to relinquish control, something he rarely does.

But you’ve changed that for him, shifted his view on power dynamics in the bedroom.

Your hand wraps around his thick, veiny base, guiding him to your entrance.

Slowly, you sink down onto his cock, your head falling back as you take him in, inch by glorious inch.

The angle is perfect, sending waves of pleasure coursing throughout. Your mouth falls open, breath catching in your throat as you nestle him fully inside, your walls squeezing around him.

It drives Javier wild, dark eyes focusing on the different expressions that flit across your beautiful countenance, seeing your face completely bare like this only strengthens his feelings for you.

Your hands slide up to rest on his broad chest, stabilizing yourself as you begin to swivel your hips in slow, sensual circles. The delicious drag of his cock slipping in and out of you sends shivers down your spine, and the room fills with the symphony of your shared moans and grunts, the wiry hairs at his base tickling your clit with each movement.

You grind down on him, rolling your hips in that way that’s supposed to feel good only for you. But with every tense of your muscles, every tight squeeze of your walls around him, Javier is utterly consumed by you, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together.

Now, it’s his turn to be drunk on you, completely overwhelmed by the way you command his pleasure.

The sight of the two of you in the mirror, bodies intertwined and moving together in perfect rhythm is like work of art— each motion a brushstroke on the canvas of desire.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Javier murmurs, one hand gripping your ass while the other moves up to roughly palm your tit, his fingers pinching your nipple.

“Mhm,” you hum, completely lost in the moment, focused entirely on the euphoria coursing through you. You feel his cock swell inside you, a clear sign that he’s on the precipice. 

With a wicked grin, you change your rhythm, shifting from grinding to bouncing, your hands finding purchase on his strong thighs as you lean back.

The new angle gives him an unobstructed view of your pussy eagerly taking his cock, and the sight drives him wild.

“You’re so fucking hot, gatita,” he groans, watching as your breasts bounce with each movement. You ride him like a pro, your entire being burning with exertion, knowing full well that the delicious ache spreading through your muscles will leave you sore and satisfied for days to come.

He slips his thumb between his lips, coating it with saliva before pressing it firmly against your swollen, raw clit.

The suddenness rips a loud exclamation from you, causing you to lose your rhythm as you lean forward, breathless and overwhelmed.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, sucking with a fervor that sends sparks of pleasure shooting everywhere.

As he bends his knees, he begins to thrust into you with relentless force, driving deep with every stroke. The combined assault of his mouth, cock, and thumb is too much to bear, you’re vibrating with pleasure that borders on pain.

“J-Javi, I can’t,” you cry out, tears welling up in your eyes, the intensity threatening to break you.

But he pulls away from your chest just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with ardor, though his thrusts never falter.

“You can and you will. No llores, hermosa. You know I’m going to take care of you.”

With a desperate need to kiss him, you press your mouth to his.

It’s messy and hungry as he continues to move you on his cock like you’re his living, breathing flesh light. He grunts against your lips, driving into you forcefully.

After a few more thrusts, his hips begin to stutter, and he pulls away from your lips, his voice strained. “Fuck, gatita, where do you want it?”

You trail kisses up his neck, tasting the salt of his skin before nipping at his ear. “Inside, please. Need to feel you fill me up, Javi. Want to feel your cum drip out of my pussy.”

You know it’s a reckless decision—you’re not on birth control, and the logical part of your brain knows better. But the overwhelming need coursing through you drowns out any sense of caution.

You’ll just make him get you the morning-after pill once this fevered moment passes.

Javier growls, landing a sharp smack on your ass. “I’m right there, baby, need you to come with me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the wet sounds of his cock pounding into you, the pressure building until that final snap at your core. You practically scream in his ear as your orgasm rips through you.

He’s right behind you, his grip on your body tightening as he buries himself deep inside, flooding your cunt with his release while your name falls from his lips.

The sensation is overwhelming, the two of you melding together in a heated, panting embrace until you collapse, bodies spent, hearts pounding wildly in sync as you come down from the high.

The bliss of your shared climax begins to fade and the reality of the situation starts to settle in.

The air between you shifts, the once burning passion giving way to a different kind of tension.

You pull back slightly, your bodies still entangled but your mind racing with everything left unsaid.

Javier is the first to speak, his voice low and gravelly. “So now that we’re past that… What happens next?”

You swallow, feeling the weight of his question. You’d known this moment would come, but facing it is another matter entirely.

You take a deep breath, fingertips tracing mindlessly against his chest, gathering your thoughts before you meet his smoldering gaze.

“Javi, I—” The words stick in your throat, and you force yourself to continue. “I never thought it would go this far. I was supposed to just watch, get information… But the more I learned about you, the more I couldn’t stay away. It became more than just a job.”

He studies you, his expression unreadable, and it makes your heart race for a different reason now. “You were stalking me for weeks,” he finally says, not accusing but stating a fact.

You nod, feeling a mix of guilt and something else—relief, maybe. “I know. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. But… I couldn’t help it. You’re not the man I expected. You’re more.”

His eyes soften just a fraction, the tension between you loosening. “And now that Cali has gone down? Where does that leave us?”

Your heart stutters at the use of us.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about you, and now… Now I don’t know what to do.”

Javier sighs, caressing your back “You’ve got me in one hell of a position, you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way… So don’t feel like you have to reciprocate anything.” Though it pains you to admit this.

He looks at you for a long moment, and then, unexpectedly, he reaches out, his hand cupping your cheek, admiring your natural beauty. “I feel something for you, gatita. It confuses the shit out of me,” he mutters, “But… maybe we can figure all this out. Together.”

A wave of emotion washes over you, hope mixed with a little bit of fear. “You mean that?” It’s more than you could have asked for, really.

He leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’m not making any promises. But yeah, I’m willing to try. As long as you’re done with the secrecy.”

You nod, a small, relieved smile tugging at your lips. “No mas. I’m done with that.”

“Good,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. “Then we’ll see where this goes. One step at a time.”

As he pulls you into a gentle, lingering kiss, you feel a sense of tentative hope. How the fuck did you manage to walk out of this with such an extraordinary man?

“Wait—” you pull away from him, and Javier looks at you, confused, as you struggle to regain your thoughts. “Cali’s gone down. Fuck, the press conference.” You move off his lap, wincing as his softened cock slips out of you, followed by the warm trickle of his cum slipping down your inner thighs.

Your legs are wobbly as you head toward the restroom to clean up and get dressed.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he protests, rising to follow you. You hear him grunt as he stands, his joints popping in protest.

Javier catches up to you quickly, his hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you back to him and stopping you in your tracks.

“As much as I’d love to spend the rest of the day wrapped up in you, I have a job to do.”

“Nena,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl, “we both know that press conference is long over. Besides…” His hand slips between your thighs, making you twitch as he gathers some of the release that has seeped out of you onto his fingers. 

Bringing his digits up to your lips, he offers them to you, and you narrow your gaze at him, playfully annoyed that he’s able to flip your horny switch just like that.

Slowly, you stick out your tongue, licking his fingers clean as he watches you with a smirk.

“I can give you a better story,” he whispers, his fingers lingering at your lips.

“Better than the president being bribed by narcos?”

“In the same vain, but yes, anything you want. On the record,” he replies, his voice steady, revealing a seriousness that catches you off guard. “I resigned before coming here. Got a lot of stories saved away for a rainy day.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You resigned? Why?”

“Tired of dealing with the bullshit,” he admits, his tone laced with a weariness you clocked the moment you met him.

Your mind races, a thousand questions bubbling to the surface. Each one competes for attention, your journalistic instincts kicking into overdrive. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, something raw and real, that makes you pause.

“I can feel the gears turning in your head,” he murmurs, a small smile playing on his lips as he begins to gently guide you toward the bed. 

You let him lead, your body moving on autopilot as your mind continues to spin.

When you reach the mattress, you sink into the soft sheets. Javier crawls in beside you, his presence warm and reassuring as he pulls the covers over both of you, even though it’s the middle of the afternoon.

“Can’t help it,” you admit, your thoughts still racing but slowing down as his familiar scent and warmth envelop you.

“I know,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. His lips trail slowly down your skin, his touch grounding you as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

The questions that had been buzzing in your mind begin to fade as you sink into the comfort of the bed and the feel of him against you.

There’s just one question that can’t wait.

“So, you’re leaving Colombia?”

He grunts against your neck, his lips still caressing your skin. “Yes.”

A pout forms on your mouth, and he immediately notices, his hand pinching your hip in response. “How are we supposed to make this work if you’re not going to be here, Javier?”

The way you use his full name makes him pause. He doesn’t like it, the distance it implies.

He pulls back, his fingers firmly gripping your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes meet his. “I was hoping you’d come with me. A little bird told me some of your work is being published stateside. What better time than now to go back?”

“A little bird, huh?” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Javier has been doing some digging of his own.

The thought of him taking such an interest in you makes your heart swell, and the smile that spreads across your face is wide and genuine.

It’s infectious, mirrored by the grin on his own handsome face.

You had only come to Bogotá to cover the Cali cartel, and with that chapter now closed thanks to him, the idea of following him back to the States seems more appealing by the second.

Navigating this intense, thrilling relationship in a new setting feels right, like the next step in whatever you two are building together.

“So, will you?” His voice is soft, feeling vulnerable for proposing such an idea this early on. “Will you come back with me, gatita?”

You gaze up at him, your heart brimming with love and desire, your decision already made. “Sí, Javi,” you whisper, your lips brushing tenderly against his. “I’ll go with you.”

[astermath]

 “So? Whatever.” pt.3

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: you and dave grow closer and you both share stories and secrets. one faithful night, when he’s got nowhere else to go, he reveals his biggest one.

word count: 1.7K

warnings: mentions of blood and injuries

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

notes: this is probably the final one in this series, but I’ll definitely be writing some blurbs and whatnot using the popular!reader. any requests or things you want to see between these two, or just dave, are welcome in my asks!! thank you for the sweet comments and reblogs, they mean the world to me, hope you enjoy!! <3

Meeting Dave at your house had now become a weekly occurrence.

Every Saturday he’d stop by for a “tutoring session”, backpack filled with new comics and sometimes collectibles, usually bought with the money you gave him for his time. You’d started enjoying your time together so much that you started bailing on party plans or shopping trips, raising some suspicions from your friends as to what you were up to. You simply said you were focusing more on school to finish the year off properly. Which would be a decent excuse if your grades were actually improving, which they weren’t exactly. 

Your Saturdays were usually spent on the carpeted floor of your room, pages spread as excited voices filled the space, talking about your favorite arcs and discussing who the best supervillain really was. 

You had easily become one of Dave’s favorite people to spend time with outside of his vigilante duties, and the feeling was mutual. A crush had started brewing between you two, but neither of you wanted to admit to it. Not just because your worlds outside the safe space of your bedroom were so vastly different, but because you didn’t want to ruin this perfectly good thing you had going on with each other. Even if it meant suppressing the urge to ask him to stay the night, or him pushing away thoughts of kissing you before he’d leave, it was for the best.

Dave had grown so fond of you, you’d shared so much about yourself. You’d opened up about your insecurities, about how competitive cheerleading had affected your mental health, how you hated how your father was away so much for work, how you felt trapped by your reputation... All these things you could never talk about before, they were safe with him.

That’s why Dave felt so ridden with guilt any time you would share things like that with him. Because he was essentially just... Lying to you. You had no idea he was Kickass, at least that’s what he hoped, and the thought of you resenting him for it was eating away at him. If you knew what he was doing when you weren’t there, if you found out about this entire other persona, there was no way you’d still want to spend time with him. At best, you’d turn him in to the police, and he’d never see you again.

But something inside his head, something really stupid and naïve was telling him you’d accept him.

That really stupid part was also in love with you.

Dave’s text messages had been less frequent lately, further adding to your worries about what he’d been up to. He’d cancelled multiple times in the past few weeks, something he’d never done before, and when you asked what he was doing he got so nervous. He’d usually just give some strange excuse or said his dad needed him to be home with all the crime that’s been going on. But that wouldn’t explain the bruises you’d notice on his arms when he took his jacket off, which he’d quickly try to cover by pulling down his sleeves. You’d asked your brother if him or any of his friends had been messing with him, threatening to light his jerseys on fire if he lied about it.

“The fuck would I know about what your boyfriend’s been up to?” He spat, upset that you were bothering him with this at all.

“He’s not my boyfriend, shithead!” You yelled, throwing a pillow at his head.

But damn, did you wish he was.

You sat in your room, flipping through the pages of the collector’s edition Spider-man comic Dave had gifted you months ago. Your fingers traced across the lines of the damaged paper, wondering if he really bought it like this or some asshole at school did this to it. For someone so secretly strong he sure let a lot of people fuck with him.

You thought back at all your years in high school where you deliberately ignored him or even allowed your friends to make fun of him. You wished you could turn back time and give him a chance earlier on, maybe be able to spend more time with him now that he seemed too busy for you now. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock against your window. You didn’t respond at first, thinking you imagined it, but when the sound returned a bit louder you got up. You squinted, finding it a bit hard to see who or what was outside your window when it was so dark outside. You approached and realized it was Dave, looking a bit panicked. You didn’t even think much about it, sliding your window up so you could talk to him. “Dave! Where the fuck have you--” 

“Can I please come in?” He interrupted, his breath ragged, looking like a mess. It was only now you noticed the bruises and the cut across his cheek. You nodded, moving aside so he could come in. He struggled, limping a little, and you turned back around to close the window, hearing him take off his jacket and drop his bag.

“What the hell were you even--” Your own sentence was cut short when you were met with a sight you had not expected. Your eyes widened and your expression changed into one of shock and worry.

There he was, full Kickass attire, no mask. 

And everything clicked.

The random bruises, the comic book obsession, his secret strength, his sudden disappearances...

A heavy silence filled the room, the only sounds present his rough breathing as he put a hand against your bedpost to keep standing. 

“Is... Is this why you’ve been so busy?” Your voice sounded hurt, betrayed even. “You’ve been fighting people?”

Dave struggled to get any words out. He’d hoped he’d never have to do this, but he had nowhere else to go, and you deserved to know the truth. He looked to the side in shame, sighing. “I’ve... Been meaning to tell you. For a while now, I promise, I just... It all escalated so much, I never meant for it to become such a big lie.”

You looked at each other, and Dave’s heart literally ached at the sight of your teary eyes. Or maybe it was the cracked rib that was doing that, who knows honestly.

“Sit down.” You said, pointing at your bed.

“W-What? I don’t--”

“Sit. Down.” Your voice demanded, eyes meeting his with a look he’d never experienced from anyone before, not even when he was getting his life threatened by criminals.

He gently sat down on your bed, groaning slightly at the movement straining his injuries. You silently walked to your bathroom and took out the first aid kit from below the sink. You sat down next to him on the bed as Dave kept his head down in shame. He was certain he’d cry if he saw the expression on your face right now. 

“Take it off. The top part.”

He didn’t say anything, reaching behind him and unzipping the back, peeling the layer of clothing off his body and revealing a wide array of injuries. Normally you’d be excited to see him shirtless, his toned body surprising you, but right now all you felt was hurt. You put some rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad and gently patted the cut on his shoulder. Despite your anger, your grip on his arm was soft. 

He winced slightly at the burning feeling, looking at you and seeing a few tears roll down your cheeks. “Hey, I’m... I’m really sorry.” He spoke softly as you prepared a bandage. He said your name so gently, so sweetly, that you almost wanted to kiss him, if you weren’t so upset. “Everything got so real, and I met other vigilantes, other people like me... It started taking up so much time, I felt bad, and I couldn’t just abandon it, so...”

“So you abandoned me instead?” You finally looked up to face him. You were still holding his arm, and even like this, crying and upset, he thought you looked so beautiful.

“I...” He felt his own eyes start watering. “I would never abandon you...” His hand reached out to rest over your back. “No matter what, I swear, I would never give up what we have...” He gently pulled you in, hugging you so softly, a bit hesitant.

You leaned in closer, head against his bare chest as you started calming down. He didn’t hate you, he didn’t leave, he was there, right there. You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat as he reached down to rest his face against the top of your head, the gentle scent of your shampoo calming him as well. You stayed just like that for a few minutes, holding each other. Nothing else in the world mattered, everything you wanted was right there in the room with you.

You gently pulled back, and Dave was certain he’d be met with either a slap or a finger pointing to the window to get out.

Both of those guesses were wrong.

You leaned in, lips meeting his in the softest, gentlest most loving kiss either of you had ever experienced. No lust, no intentions other than to just feel closer to him. Your mouth opened slightly and Dave leaned in more, a hand reaching out to rest on your cheek as yours sneaked into his brown curls. A warmth had spread through your body, mind running blank, until you gently pulled away.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” You whispered against his lips.

“Yeah...” He whispered back. “Me too...” The both of you leaned back in, passion growing as your breathing became heavier and the kiss became more intense. His arms snaked around your waist and you moved onto his lap, straddling him. He didn’t care if it hurt, all he wanted was to be even closer to you, to never let you go. 

You pulled away and looked into his eyes, before a soft smile appeared on your face. “You know I’d never hate you, Dave...” You reach out to gently touch his cheek, and he melts into your hand, tilting his head slightly to lean into it.

“I really thought you would...” He smiled. That adorable, nerdy, slightly nervous smile that you’d grown to love.

“Of course not...” You grin. “In fact...” You leaned in closer to his ear. “I always thought Kickass was kinda hot...”

Heat rises to his face, and his grip on your waist strengthens just a bit at your lustful tone. 

He gained another ally that night. His most valuable one, for sure.

tag list <3

@nephilimsss @tangerinesgf @dynamitehacke @izzyisstuff @cinawoah @amoebagrl @ykyouluvme  @stilloverthinking @erodastylinson   @reneehillary69  

[taintedcigs]

OMG LITERALLY LOVED POLAROIDS SO MUCH DUDE 🤭

Also if your taking requests could you maybe write Eddie x fem!Scoops Ahoy Worker!reader

✦ A SCOOP OF MISUNDERSTANDINGS | e. munson x reader ✦

wc: 2k+

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: not a lot of warnings tbh, just swearing, jealousy, fluff, like annoyingly fluffy, i hope this isn't cheesy and tiny tiny bit of angst if u RLLY squint

summary: eddie is really enamored with the new scoops ahoy worker, and is jealous of how her and steve get along so well.

authors note: NONNIE PLS EXCUSE HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO WRITE THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A LONG TIME!! im so glad u liked polaroids and now i hope u like this as well and hope i did ur request justice <33 this concept was so fun to write!! ITS ABIT CHEESY BUT I LOVE CHEESY SO EXCUSE ME PLS! also lmk if u want more like this or all ur requests and any of ur feedback pls send me an ask abt anything ily all <3

eddie LOOVES ice cream, and most of all, eddie loves going to scoops ahoy with dustin and annoying the shit out of steve.

it's like their weekly routine at this point, getting ice-cream, but also trying all the flavors so they can get free ice-cream, steve and robin always end up yelling at them.

so eddie entered the scoops ahoy shop with a smirk on his face, and the mission of annoying steve, but his smirk is wiped off and he is almost baffled by something, or rather someone.

you.

he is intrigued at the sight of you, standing next to steve, pouting your glossed plump lips at him for something he is saying, and you look so pretty, that it catches him off guard. even with that stupid scoops ahoy hat on top of your hat, eddie thinks you look so fucking good that it's unfair, and he is too dumbfounded to speak.

you laugh at something steve says, and it makes eddie's heart skip a beat. his mind is fuzzy when he's staring at you, he wonders if you're new here, because if someone as angelic as you worked here before, he wouldn't have missed it.

his attention is drawn back to robin, who tries to take his and dustin's order and dustin asks to try his 100th flavor "god, will you take eddie and dustin's order i need to go on a break!" she exclaims shouting your name, groaning. you nod quickly as you wave steve away.

a warm smile is plastered on your face, "welcome to scoops ahoy! what can i get for you, dustin" you point to dustin, guessing the kid steve always talked about must've been him, and then you turn to eddie.

"and, eddie?" you smile, also remembering him from steve's stories, as he told you all about eddie and how he was 'not jealous' that dustin had gotten another older brother, who played the 'same stupid nerd game as dustin'.

"you know my name?" eddie asked, his eyes widening and his mouth dried up. "robin just told our names, you doofus." dustin lightly nudged him, and a blush crept up eddie's cheeks, his first words to you and he already looked like an idiot, great, he thought to himself.

"oh, not only that but that one talks about you two all the time!" you said giggling as you pointed to steve.

"all good things i hope." eddie chuckled and you gave him a warm smile again, nodding. the way your eyes sparkled as you smiled was etched into his brain forever, dustin realized eddie's adoring looks but he kept his mouth shut.

"so, uh... what kind of ice cream would you like today? we have a lot of flavors!" you asked, showing them dozens of ice cream flavors.

"i'll have one scoop of chocolate and one scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough, and same for him, if that's okay." eddie said, smiling at you.

you looked up at him, your smile widening. "coming right up!" you said sweetly, grabbing a cone and getting to work.

as you did so, dustin lightly nudged eddie's shoulder, eddie could barely turn his head around to dustin when all he could do was focus on you. "what?" he asked annoyed.

"dude, you have to ask her out!" dustin exclaimed excitedly and eddie threw him a look as to say 'keep your voice down idiot, she's right there!'

"what?" eddie asked playing dumb and dustin rolled his eyes, "you've been gawking at her ever since we walked in, just ask her out!" dustin encouraged eddie.

but eddie didn't know how he was supposed to do that. he was the 'freak' of hawkins, and you were- oh you were so pretty, so nice and you seemed so kind. he couldn't even manage to get his words out when you were around, let alone ask you out on a date.

"maybe next time, kiddo." he gave dustin's shoulder a squeeze, as eddie watched you laughing at steve's jokes again, and sighed.

he knew you were out of his league and possibly suited better for someone like 'king steve' anyway, but it didn't stop him from returning in a few days.

"eddie, hi!" the way your face instantly lit up and how you remembered his name, made him smile, eddie was putty in your hands with just two interactions.

"one scoop chocolate and one scoop chocolate chip again?" you remembered his name and his order? eddie's heart was about to burst out of his chest, you were giving the poor boy hope with just existing.

he nodded, and you scooped a generous portion of ice cream into a cone. "will that be all?" your tone was so sweet that it was making eddie sick.

"um, yeah." eddie said, feeling a bit flustered. he took the cone and turned to leave, but then he hesitated, dustin's words rang in his mind. he knew he at least had to start more conversations with you.

"hey, um, do you have any recommendations for other flavors?" he asked, his voice was still timid.

you grinned, excitedly. "oh, there are so many! have you tried the mint chocolate chip? it's my personal favorite." when he shook his head no, you immediately grabbed a spoon feeding him the ice cream.

you excitedly waited for his feedback, your eyes were glimmering, "really good." he managed to get out with a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, making you giggle.

even if eddie wouldn't have liked the flavor, he would pretend that it was his favorite flavor for the rest of his life if it meant he would get to hear your pretty laugh and those dreamy eyes again.

and eddie knew he was obsessed now, he didn't want to be so hooked on you, but you made it easy, so very easy.

and in the next few weeks, eddie started coming to the shop more often, finding excuses to try new flavors and linger around you at all times. and the more he came the more he got comfortable with you, always making small talk, while trying to be funny and charming, but always feeling like he was failing miserably.

but you didn't seem to mind. in fact, him always coming around to see you, and your conversations were the best part of your day, and your job.

you were always laughing the hardest at his jokes, asking him about his day, and even sneaking him extra scoops of ice cream every now and then.

but eddie had one problem.

steve.

he was always there, talking to you, and making you laugh, jealousy was starting to consume him.

he couldn't help the agonizing anxiety inside of him that made him feel like he wasn't good enough for you, especially compared to steve who seemed to be a ladies' man and had a natural charm to him, along with the 'king steve' title that eddie felt he lacked, the only title he had was, 'the freak'.

and eddie couldn't get you out of his head. his head was constantly filled with thoughts of you and the little moments the two of you shared at scoops ahoy.

so when he came to the shop the next day, he had one thing on his mind. he had to at least try his chances, and ask you out.

"hi, honey." he greeted you, the nickname was something you felt so comfortable with, and it made you feel so giddy inside.

"hi, eds." he loved the nicknames you gave him, 'handsome, eds, pretty boy.' he could feel his insides about to burst when you called him any of them.

when the two of you fell into your routine conversations again, eddie felt comfortable, he felt at ease with your presence, and he realized he could really do it, he could actually ask you out.

so when he called out your name in a soft voice, he gathered his courage, clearing his throat.

"i just wanted to ask you if-" but once again, his voice was drowned out by steve, and he sighed his anxiety was starting to bubble over when your shift instantly focused to steve.

"shit- sorry i'm late, again!" steve's voice was irritating him now, and you waved steve off, to say that it was fine.

"you're only late like 5 minutes." you offered him a smile, and as steve gave you a hug to greet you eddie could feel his stomach knotting up.

he tried to stay composed, but he couldn't help his mind getting fuzzy about his insecurities.

when you returned to eddie, you could sense he was off. "sorry handsome, what were you saying?" you asked, as you gave him a sympathetic smile.

but eddie was distant, and even the 'handsome' nickname, wasn't enough to ease his worries "oh, it was nothing important." his voice was timid and he was now lost in his own thoughts.

"is everything okay?" you asked, your voice filled with worry.

"yeah, yeah, you can go back to your thing with steve, i didn't mean to interrupt." he meant for it to sound casual, but it sounded bitter.

you looked at him, furrowing your brows. "what?" and when you saw the way eddie looked at steve, it clicked.

all the times when steve came and interrupted you and eddie's conversation, all the times steve made you laugh, eddie always had the same disappointed look on his face that he did now.

and you actually face-palmed at the realization, and gave him a chuckle, causing eddie's attention to shift to you again as he gave you a puzzled look.

"jesus- eddie, have i ever told you how i started this job?" you asked, and he shook his head.

"we moved into hawkins a few weeks ago, my dad told me i had to find a summer job and then my cousin told me he got this new job at scoop's ahoy, so i thought why not? and i signed up as well." the information was slow to process eddie's brain.

"steve is my cousin, eds." you said, a smug smirk played on your lips, and eddie immediately felt his face grow hot with embarrassment. "oh."

"shit, i didn't know. sorry." he shook his head, glancing down at the floor.

he wanted to laugh at how foolish he had been, worrying about steve this much in the last few weeks.

"it's okay, i mean we do hang out a lot, but that's because he's my favorite cousin, and it's really fun to be able to annoy him 24/7." you giggled and eddie chuckled, nodding.

he felt a surge of relief, but he wanted to slap himself for being jealous over nothing.

when the conversation between the two of you went back to normal eddie felt comfortable around you again, and he decided to push his plans to asking you out to the next day, his cheeks still blushing at the mention of steve.

so when he says his goodbyes to you, it makes you groan, and eddie tilts his head, confused, as he turns his attention to you.

"are you ever going to ask me out?" you asked, impatiently, and you felt desperate to do so, but you had spent weeks flirting with eddie, and it was driving you crazy now.

eddie blinked slowly, not believing the words that were coming out of your mouth his heart pounding in his chest. "w-what?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

you huffed, "i mean i've been flirting with you for weeks, and i thought you weren't interested, but you did nothing." you pouted, and eddie felt like he was going to faint.

"shit, honey." now your heart was pounding out of your chest, the nickname, again, was enough to make you melt.

"fuck, i've been trying to ask you out for weeks, but i thought you weren't interested, especially because i thought you were interested in steve-" you made a gagging sound at that and his mouth turned up into a soft smile.

he felt like he was dreaming, he felt so stupid. "would you wanna go out with me? maybe to that new restaurant that opened up just right down the street?" he asked, intoxicated by your hopeful eyes.

"yes," you replied, without hesitation. "i would love to."

eddie grinned sheepishly at you. "great," he said. "how about tomorrow afternoon?"

you nodded eagerly. "tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect."

"see you then." eddie replied, appearing to be casual and trying to hide the fact that he was screaming internally. and trying to comprehend that he was actually going to go on a date with you.

[adore-laur]

GET MINE, GET YOURS

— your ex-boyfriend is a mechanic, and you still jump his bones on occasion ❤️‍🔥

——

2004

Heavy raindrops cascade off the roof of the mechanic shop, its metal shingles mottled with splotches of orange rust. The sight forms tight knots in your stomach as dreary storm clouds loom over the town. You stall outside for another minute, soaked pebbles crunching under the soles of your shoes as you pace near your car. 

After exhaling a quelling breath and rolling your shoulders back, you slowly walk toward the half-closed garage. Harry is running the shop all by himself this afternoon, working gruesome nine-to-fives just about every day of the week. You don't know how he does it, so you try to visit and keep him company once in a while.

Today, however, is different. The brakes on your car have been squeaking incessantly, and you know jack squat about anything car-related, so you had no choice but to ask your ex-boyfriend for help. 

Yes, your ex-boyfriend.

You would honestly rather listen to him drone on about all the intricate parts of an automobile than some wise guy who makes you feel stupid when you confusedly nod along and attempt to ask clarifying questions. Harry is much nicer about it. He simplifies terms for you while your mind drifts away to things much more interesting than the anatomy of axels and tires. For example, Harry's pink lips or the beautiful veins protruding from the backs of his hands.

You've gone to him with car problems before, but you mostly visit to hang out with him. It's never awkward since the breakup was mutual, and you are still on good terms. Plus, you find contentment in the routine of bringing him fast food and talking his ear off while he does the strenuous work. 

And so what if you still fuck him on the down-low?

There's nothing wrong with having no strings attached, especially since he gives you heavenly sexual experiences each and every time. It's not like it's a weekly thing, either. It's just that whenever you cross paths with him, it always ends up with his body hovering over yours and his cross necklace dangling above your bare chest. 

Unfortunately, you're not in the mood for that right now. The stress caused by your shitty car and having to probably pay a hefty amount of cash just to be able to safely drive anywhere has quickly turned your day sour. 

As you duck your head to enter the garage, the smell of rubber and oil instantly permeates your senses. The plug-in air freshener on the wall is doing the absolute bare minimum. Soft bass creeps into your eardrums, and a groovy R&B track plays from Harry's boombox sitting beside his reliable red toolbox. You grin and roll your eyes when you recognize the eminent growl of Christina Aguilera coming through the speakers. You're greeted with a song you'd never expect him to listen to whenever you visit. 

Turning your head to the left, you spot Harry working under a beat-up vintage Cadillac. He's lying down on a roller with his knees bent, metal clinking from whatever he's fixing. The black skinny jeans he's wearing are faded, and he's not wearing any shoes for some risky reason; only white socks cover his feet. 

"Hi, baby." Harry's voice rumbles, jolting you. You've told him to stop calling you that, but it falls on deaf ears every time. 

"How'd you know it was me?" you ask, running your fingertips across a stray wrench. 

He laughs huskily. "I can see your dirty ass sneakers from under here."

Before you can defend your mud-stained shoes, his hands grip the bottom edge of the car as he rolls himself out from underneath, revealing his face decorated with smears of grease and his long hair tied into a bun. It's been two weeks since you saw him last, give or take, and you swear he gets more physically buff each time. His biceps are practically bulging as he wipes beading sweat from his forehead, the sheened muscles filling out his grubby uniform deliciously.

You break away from your lustful trance and nod your head toward his boombox. "Stripped on cassette, huh? You keep on surprising me." 

"Is there a problem?" He slings a soiled rag over his shoulder.

"No, not at all," you reply lightheartedly. "It just isn't really a manly record to fix cars to." 

He teasingly sticks his tongue out and saunters over to you, bending down a bit before wrapping one arm around your waist and lifting you in a firm embrace. His mouth breathes warm air against your neck, and you can smell the spearmint gum he's been chewing.

"Came to visit me?" he murmurs as he gently sets you down, keeping a firm grip on your hip and hooking his middle finger through your belt loop. 

You pout and tell him, "My car is broken." 

He mimics your expression. "Yeah? What happened?" 

"I was driving home from the grocery store, and the brakes started squeaking out of nowhere." 

Harry stops smacking his gum and furrows his eyebrows. "And you drove all the way here without calling me?"

You grimace. "Please don't be mad." 

"You're not supposed to keep driving when your brakes are acting up," he says seriously. "You know better." 

"I didn't want to make you leave work," you reply, fidgeting with your hands. 

He softly tuts while flinging the rag somewhere behind him. "I would've come and gotten you if you had asked." 

You just shrug helplessly and look around the garage, admiring Harry's workspace, which completely encapsulates his personality, even though he shares the space with a coworker most days. Various cassettes are stacked haphazardly on a shelf, ranging from girl groups to classic rock to spa music for meditation purposes. He has an opened bag of organic potato chips on his workbench, the brand he always buys from the gas station just down the road. There's also a shallow pottery bowl in the corner where he puts his rings so they don't touch oil. 

He's a moody motherfucker, but you know all of his soft spots. 

"I'm guessing I'll be spending the entirety of my last paycheck on the repair," you mutter while wandering around, picking up random tools. 

Harry leans back against the car he's working on and crosses his arms. "It'll probably cost around two hundred dollars to replace the brake pad," he says. 

"What the hell?" you say incredulously. "You need to talk to your boss about lowering the prices around here." 

"I am the boss."

"Oh, that's right."

He laughs through his nose. "Negotiate with me about it, then. Convince me to lower the price." 

You stop in your tracks and stare at him, unimpressed with the upper hand he tries to have over you. "Nope. I'm not doing that." 

"Why not?" he asks. "C'mon, I'm bored out of my mind." 

You groan and stride over to stand in front of him. He's so hard to resist. "Fine. Will you please give me a discount?" 

Harry drags out a monotonous hum before plainly saying, "No." 

Standing on your tiptoes, you touch your nose to his and whisper, "Pretty please?" 

He narrows his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against yours. "You're getting warmer." 

"I'll help you fix my car," you plead, willing to do anything to save a little money. "I'm really good at following instructions." 

"You are, sweetheart, but absolutely not." 

You frown and bury your face in his neck. He's sweaty, yet there's a hint of some pine-scented cologne coming through that drives you insane. "If I let you fuck me," you suggest boldly, leaving a slow kiss near his pulse point, "will you give me a discount?" 

Harry moves his head to look at you straight on, smiling smugly and using his teeth to stretch his gum across the tip of his tongue. "That's more like it." 

"But don't you have a car to fix right now?" you ask, feigning innocence to get under his skin. 

"Baby," he murmurs, "you can't come here and expect me to actually get work done. You're too distracting." 

You pinch his thigh through his jeans. "Stop calling me that." 

"No," he says softly. "You're still my baby." 

"Not anymore." 

"Then no discount for you." 

You scoff and step away from him. "Stop being a jerk, Harry." 

"Letting me fuck you just for a discount, hmm? Is that it?" He raises his eyebrows.

"You know I'd let you fuck me anyway," you admit under your breath. 

The muscles in his jaw twitch. "God, you give me whiplash." 

You get up in his face and say, "Yeah, well, you give me a headache."

His hand quickly reaches out to push the back of your head toward him, messily smearing his lips against yours. "I hate when you're like this," he mumbles into your mouth. "My baby's so stubborn when she doesn't get her way, isn't she?" 

You bite his bottom lip and tug on it before releasing it. "Don't want to be your baby." 

His hand gravitates toward the curve of your ass, squeezing just once. "Then tell me what you want."

"I want to be your brat."

Harry's head tilts as he visibly swallows. "Get on the couch," he orders lowly. "Face down, ass up." 

You grin, pleased to the max, and stroll over to the black leather couch in the back while Harry shuts the garage door for privacy. The screech of the lock makes you wince, and the sound of the pelting rain becomes muffled. The continuous drops on the roof match the speed of your racing heart. 

Placing your forearms on the cold, cracked leather, you bend your knees to get into position and tilt your head so your cheek rests on the cushion. Harry swiftly removes his hairband, his curls messily falling past his shoulders. Next, he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his swallow tattoos and chest hair, both slick with sweat. His cross pendant rests perfectly against his skin as he comes up beside you and leisurely trails his fingers down your spine until they reach the waistband of your low-rise bell bottoms. 

Goosebumps erupt across your arms when his other hand goes to unbutton his skinny jeans. You can see his bulge strain against the tight material, and it makes you squirm impatiently. 

"Sit still," Harry says, pulling down his jeans. His black boxers and thigh tattoo are now directly in front of you. 

You pitifully moan when he crouches and grabs your wrists to place them behind your back. "Not fair," you grumble. 

"Oh, really? It's not fair that I'm about to fuck you." 

"You know what I mean." 

Harry tugs down your pants and underwear in one go, the material bunching at the back of your knees. He then takes his boxers off, placing one knee on the cushion and lining himself up as he grips the top of the couch to stay balanced. 

"Still on birth control?" he asks, planting a quick kiss on your shoulder blade. The cold metal of his necklace against your skin sends an avalanche of chills down the length of your spine. 

You nod, and Harry immediately thrusts into you. You gasp as the burning sensation spreads like wildfire all the way to your thighs, your hands clenching into tight fists as he continuously rocks deep strokes in and out. You whimper with each one, and Harry's hand holds your hair back in a makeshift ponytail to watch every pleasurable change of expression on your face. 

"You good?" He pants while slowing down his thrusts, keeping them long and purposeful. 

"I want to touch you."

His hips pound into your backside. "Yeah? Where do you want to touch me?" 

"Anywhere, just please let me." 

"I didn't know brats begged like whores," he says, tugging your hair. 

You wiggle your fingers behind your back, trying to touch his stomach, but it's to no avail. Harry stops thrusting, his hair hanging over his face as he looks down at you. "Want it that bad?" he says in awe.

You muster up fake tears and nod pathetically to get your way. "Please, daddy." 

It always works like a charm. Harry grunts and instantly pulls out, hastily sitting on the couch with his legs spread and grabbing your waist to make you straddle him. 

You kick off your pants and underwear the rest of the way, along with your shoes, then sink down on his cock, slowly grinding on him with your hands in his hair. You want to touch him everywhere, so you rub your palms down his chest and then hold both of his hands as you arch your back and tilt your head up toward the ceiling rafters. The new position tightens your orgasm more quickly, and the way Harry is desperately moaning with his hands clutching your thighs causes heat to prickle all over your body. 

"Such a pretty brat for me, right?" Harry praises you, kissing along your jaw and down your neck. "Getting your way like you always do." 

"Mm-hmm," you hum, every grind making your stomach rub against his, all sweat and smooth skin. "Only for you." 

He nips love bites along your collarbone. "It fuckin' better be. I don't want you doing this with anyone else." 

"And what if I do?" you ask, the slickness of your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs. 

Harry opens his mouth with a scoffed moan when you circle your hips. "Th-think I'd die from jealousy." 

The fact that you got him to stutter makes you grind faster until his jaw is clenched and he's clawing scratches on your back. "What's there to be jealous about?" 

"That they get to stuff this tight pussy, and I don't." His eyes roll back as he starts to stimulate your clit with his thumb.

Not only is he a moody motherfucker, but he's a filthy one too. 

"You're doing it right now, though," you say, and Harry nods briskly. "Consider yourself lucky." 

"But I want to be the only one." 

"I know." You suddenly choke out a moan when your orgasm approaches. "I'm gonna come, Harry. Oh, God..."

"Me too," he says, his chest heaving. "Give me a good one, baby." 

You hold onto his shoulders and tense your thighs while you release, Harry stilling as well as his hips jerk to meet yours. You feel him fill you up, and after he runs himself dry, you fall against his body from exhaustion, whining into his neck as the pleasure consumes you. His arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in for a lazy hug while his cock slowly softens inside you. 

The rain pours outside, and the ambiance calms you down while your body relaxes. It reminds you of a time when things were easier, a time without complicated feelings or unresolved issues. 

Harry abruptly begins giggling, his chest raising with each breathy laugh. You join in, but you don't necessarily understand what's so funny. You lift your head to see deep dimples carved into his cheeks and the devastatingly gorgeous crinkles near his eyes. 

Once his laughter dies down, he says, "We just orgasmed at the same time to "Beautiful" by Xtina." 

"No way," you reply, breaking into more giggles. 

Harry starts cackling as the dramatic piano ballad plays from the boombox, possibly the worst song to listen to while having sex. It's so ridiculous that tears form in your eyes and your sides start hurting from laughing so hard. 

"We also just fucked with our socks on," Harry adds, resting his covered feet on the couch and wiggling his toes.

"Sexy." 

"Super sexy. And quite comfortable." 

You smile and glance at his lips, feeling an intense urge to kiss them, but you know you shouldn't. As soft as they look, it would only make things more complicated. Well, besides the fact that you still have sex with him. You're okay with the equal exchange of satisfaction, even though the emotional boundaries seem to blur more and more each time. 

"You can kiss me," Harry whispers. 

You swallow and shake your head, playing with the ends of his curls. "That's not what we do anymore. I get mine, and you get yours, remember? That's it." 

"You let me kiss you earlier," he points out. 

"That was a different kind of kiss." 

He just makes a disappointed face and lifts your hips so he can pull out. He then stands still, holding you with one arm, and you wrap your legs around his waist as he walks over to the boombox. 

"What should we listen to next?" he asks in your ear, delicately pressing a button to remove the black and white cassette. 

You tilt your head sideways and read the names on the stack of cassettes. "Hmm... how about Time and Form: Celestial Meditation? Sounds like the perfect soundtrack for aftercare." 

Harry snorts. "Shut up." 

You laugh and dig your heels into his lower back, wanting to be even closer to his bare skin. The full-fledged urge to kiss him returns again, this time with a bizarre wave of sadness. 

You can't. He's your ex. 

It would cross the line that was never really there in the first place, but it's a faint one, and it still matters. To you, to him, and to the stakes of what you are to each other. Yet you spend days and nights lying in bed, wondering if he'll call you on the old wall phone at the shop and ask you to come over just because. Or when he tells you he missed you when you do show up, hugging you tight and thanking you for lunch. Or when he's glum and sulky to everyone else but you, his face immediately lights up when you step into the room. 

It all means something, but you'll never allow it to become more than that. Just fleeting moments make up for the emptiness you felt when you stopped being romantically involved with him. It quells the ache, but only in real-time. Afterward, you go home to the apartment you live in by yourself, wishing he could follow you there and stay with you like he used to. 

You didn't cry when you broke up with him because you knew there would still be some sort of relationship present, even though it wouldn't involve dating. That's when you both agreed to keep having sex without the strings attached; however, the buried feelings you have always seem to burst into uncontrollable flames when he touches you. You'll never admit it, though, because a purely physical relationship with him is better than not having one at all. 

It'd be a shame to lose the fire where the smoke is. 

——

[hannie-dul-set]

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF.

p — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, beomgyu is embarrassing but that's nothing new with my recent works. 1.6k words.

note — inspired by this post. i'm supposed to be studying rn.

everyone in your department knows that choi beomgyu is not to be trusted.

no, it’s not like he scams people with overpriced products on the university buy and sell forum. he doesn’t give you wrong answers during tests to fuck you over. he isn’t seeing multiple people at once behind their backs like a shitty fuckboy, either.

but when choi beomgyu tells you that there’s a buy one take one promo at the coffee shop near campus, you should probably think twice before rallying your friends over because of your shared coffee addiction. it’s the reason why hueningkai showed up to a department party last month wearing a penguin costume when the theme was business-casual. it’s the reason why choi yeonjun sends a string of curses to the group chat bi-weekly because he’s told that there’s a quiz today, only to arrive at an empty classroom.

it’s all harmless. it’s all fun and games and for a good laugh— but nevertheless, everyone knows to think twice before listening to the honeyed words that fall from choi beomgyu’s mouth. the problem is, the bastard is charismatic and he knows it. “he’s weaponizing his pretty face like a motherfucking gun,” you mentioned to soobin one time. so even if people are ware that he’s slimy little bitch that likes to fuck around a lot, they still listen to what he says. even when in doubt.

well, they’re all fucking stupid.

“hey, let’s compare hand sizes!”

and you refuse to be branded as a gullible idiot, too.

“what?”

the sandwich you’re having for lunch suddenly feels dry on your tongue. “gimme your hand,” he insists, and you narrow your eyes at him. what...what the fuck is this bastard trying to do? “i wanna know whose is bigger.”

now, that’s a familiar line. it almost made your heart flutter when he’s batting his eyes at you so expectantly with that pretty face of his from across the cafeteria table, the fingers of his right palm outstretched and ready to catch yours upon your consent.

almost. but there’s no way in hell you’re humoring his dumb ass.

“sure,” you respond. and, after wiping your lips with a napkin, offer out your open palm for him in the air.

his face brightens— a tiny smile pulling at his lips.

beomgyu reaches out for your hand. before he can press his palms against yours, you quickly fold it into a middle finger.

it’s almost funny how his expression quickly tumbles into despair.

“eat shit, motherfucker.”

you clean up your tray and leave your dumbfounded friend behind. you have no idea what his intentions with that was, but you aren’t risking making a fool out of yourself at the suggestion that beomgyu might be trying to (pathetically) hit on you. he’s probably just concocting some more mischief— especially since you’re one of the people he has yet to victimize with his dumb jokes.

so you’re not surprised when he makes another attempt. but what you don’t understand is why he keeps trying to hold your hand.

“booooring. this class is so boring.”

he’s sitting next to you inside the lecture hall. so far, not that out of the ordinary. you do your best to catch up with your professor’s discussion, but from the corner of your eyes you see beomgyu finally giving up and melting his head into the desk, burying his face into his arms. “this sucks,” he muffles, before craning his head and you can feel him staring at you from below. “aren’t you bored?”

“i’m trying to pay attention, beomgyu.”

“pay attention to me,” he whines. “i’m bored. let me scribble on your hand to pass—”

“please shut the fuck up.”

at some point, it’s starting to confuse you more than annoy you. all signs lead to a boy simply trying to get the attention of his crush, but this is choi beomgyu you’re talking about. you just can’t trust him. not even when he always tries to follow you around in the hallways. not even when he drops a warm latte at your desk every 7AM class.

“i know how to do palm reading. do you wanna—”

“i’m not superstitious,” you immediately put up your shield to his spear. “thanks for the coffee.”

you really don’t understand him.

“there was a hit and run incident yesterday. you should hold onto me just to be—”

“red light. let’s go.”

you seriously don’t fucking get him.

“aaaah! i’m falling! grab my hand, i’m falling to my death!”

what the hell is he trying to do?!

“beomgyu, it’s a four-foot deep pool,” you deadpan, face flushed and it’s definitely not just from the heat of the sun. he perishes into the water with a splash. my god, what’s going on with him? you shake your head, trying to ward off an incoming headache. 

really. if this wasn’t beomgyu doing this shit, you’d be a hundred-percent convinced that he’s trying to make a move on you. that he likes you and is trying his stupidest to catch your attention. but it is beomgyu, and everyone knows he can’t be trusted unless you want to be laughed at. being this week’s joke isn’t on your bucket list. so no matter how many more attempts he’s going to make, you will be impenetrable. you will not be fooled.

“hey.”

that is until he shows up all serious in front of your classroom the next week. 

students are pouring out from the door, and you’re a heavy obstacle from their rush to go home because for some reason, choi beomgyu is there— also obstructing the traffic flow in the hallway. 

“what is it now?” you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at the worryingly large bouquet he has in his arms. “are your hands cold? do you want me to hold them to keep you warm?”

“that would be nice,” he replies. you seriously want to hit him. “but, no. that’s not what i’m here for. i decided that it might be best to stop asking for your hand because you might actually punch me this time.” this is a public area, you’d like to remind him. and that dangerously constructed statement of his is eliciting murmurs from the passersby surrounding you. you feel your face flush. 

“if you phrase it like that, people are going to get the wrong idea.”

“let them misunderstand, i don’t really care,” he shrugs. “what i care about is clearing up the misunderstanding between you and me. i don’t think we’ve been on the same page for the past few weeks.”

you furrow your brows. “what are you getting at?”

“taehyun told me that you think i’ve just been fucking around with you,” he says. “and i have to admit that i definitely have nothing to blame but myself and my reputation. but i want to tell you that i have been seriously, seriously serious about you.”

“sure,” you snort. “i definitely trust you, beomgyu.”

he frowns. “dammit, taehyun was right. you really don’t trust me.”

what did he expect? for the past year and a half that you’ve known him, he’s been nothing but unserious and troublesome. beomgyu brings mischief wherever he goes and you don’t want to make a misstep and be caught in that shitstorm— not even when your heart is racing a little too fast for comfort at the moment. not even when those flowers actually look really pretty.

“but i expected this. i’ve come prepared,” beomgyu tells you. what is it this time? you exhale. had he been normal, you might’ve trusted him at his first attempt to shoot his shot with you. “i’ve come to the conclusion that in order to get your trust, i need to stop messing around with everyone. and that begins with being completely, absolutely, unapologetically honest.”

again, this is a public area. people are staring and you’re starting to get a bad feeling.

“i’m in love with you.”

holy shit.

“i’ve been in love with you ever since taehyun introduced us to each other, i think.”

there’s fire somewhere. 

“that was over a year ago!”

that somewhere is your face.

“yeah, and?” he raises a brow. “that means i’ve liked you for over a year. i can do the math. i’m not stupid.” you want to throw yourself into a ditch and die.

“beomgyu, tell me you’re kidding.” not even your hands can fan out the inferno overtaking your face right now. somehow, there’s a lot more people around you than you remember, and while you’re suffering from a sudden onslaught of unprovoked feelings, beomgyu looks relatively unfazed. “you can’t be serious. if you’ve liked me for that long, then why haven’t you done anything until recently?!”

“funny story,” he starts. there is nothing funny about this at all. “i didn’t think i had a chance until soobin hyung told me you thought i was pretty the other week.”

soobin, that fucking rat. 

the context wasn’t even a positive one! you said he was using his pretty face for evil!

“i—” 

like what he’s doing now.

the words get stuck in your throat when you notice that beomgyu actually looks earnest. he’s not smiling or laughing— but patiently waiting for you to say something in response. your mouth is dry. your ribcage is shaking. it doesn’t fucking help that there’s three dozen people watching the scene unfold. couldn’t he have chosen a more appropriate place to pour his fucking heart out?

“you know what, let’s go.”

it’s an act of impulse. you quickly grab him by the hand and lead him away from the crowded hallway with hurried steps. “damn,” he says, trailing from behind you. “i didn’t have to try and convince you this time.”

what’s ironic is that this is the most honest you’ve ever felt of him. his palms are clammy and slipping through your fingers. he’s making jokes, but his desperate squeeze is telling you more than what he’s actually saying. “everyone knows to think twice before listening to me. but everyone also now knows that i’m pretty much in love with you, so that’s a win for me.”

THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.