#and i thought “what if i tell the guilt to shut up in a new way” bc for me the guilt is unproductive | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

agustdtown1 · 21 days ago

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CLOSER TO YOU [JJK]

PAIRING: nerdy!roommate!jungkook x fem!OF!reader

GENRE: smut, roommates au, nerdy!jk, photography major!jk, friends to fuck buddies.

SUMMARY: After getting various comments about your poor filming skills for your OF page, you finally decided to give in and reach out to the one person that could help you with your problem. However, what started as your roommate just helping you to film your video turned into you begging him to fuck you.

How long would it take for Jungkook to finally give in? After all, all he ever wanted was to be closer to you.

WC: 8,7k

WARNINGS: smut, masturbation, fingering, voyeurism, dirty talk, nerdy!jungkook going from shy to freaky to shy and freaky again. Pet names, jungkook with glasses (that NEEDS a warning idc), jk being completely whipped for reader but also mocking her and being a little shit when he got into it. Use of “good girl” (1), mention of only fans and adult content. If I’m missing something lmk!

A/N: part one is finally out!! I honestly feel nervous to post again and I really hope you guys enjoy this one! lmk what you think in the comments or sending an ask, enjoy ur reading <3!

masterlist

“I need a favor.”

You barging into his room along with those three words were enough to break the quiet and cozy atmosphere that your roommate had going on. He was sitting in his gaming chair, with his headphones covering his ears and glasses slightly falling off the bridge of his nose. Jungkook looked startled, with his big, round eyes staring at you as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, when in reality a loud and violent video game was the only thing playing on his computer screen.

“H-Hi to you too.” His response and his rapid way of blinking let you know that Jungkook was not expecting you to come into his room unannounced, however, there was not a single complaint flying out of his mouth. More often than not, you would invade his personal space with your overenthusiastic self, chatting his ear off about some new gossip from your class that he was not really interested in, but Jungkook being Jungkook could never tell you to shut up, even when it was needed. “What do you need? Is everything okay?”

A pang of guilt spread through your chest by the way he completely abandoned whatever game he was playing to put his undivided attention on you when he noticed how distressed you were; what you were about to ask him was far from being a serious or urgent matter, but rather something that might bring chaos and awkwardness into your friendship. In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you decided to entertain the idea of asking for Jungkook’s help. All you knew is that Eunbi, your best friend, was very eloquent while suggesting your roommate as a solution for your problem, and while you weren’t exactly desperate, you didn’t want to spend more time thinking of other alternatives either.

So here you were, hoping that the following minutes would remain the same after you inevitably tell Jungkook the truth.

“Y/n…? Is everything alright?” He asked once again, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yes, right! It is. I just…” A frustrated sigh escaped your lips. “I need a huge favor, but I don’t know how to tell you.”

“You know you can tell me anything, I’m here for whatever you need.” His tender smile made that guilty feeling become stronger.

You tried to find the words to voice the idea running through your mind without making this situation painfully weird, but nothing could really prevent the inevitable awkward silence that was bound to be installed between you two once you put it all out.

The favor and the help you needed was regarding your line of work, something that Jungkook was pretty much aware of, but never fully involved in. Being a creator for adult content, more specifically for only fans, was already hard enough to explain to him when he moved in with you a few years ago, but somehow you managed to make it seem as if it wasn’t a big deal. You thought that it would be a dealbreaker, that Jungkook would run far away from you and never even consider being your roommate when you told him you made content for only fans, however, after a few days, he willingly showed up at your apartment with boxes full of his belongings and a shy smile, telling you that he was ready to live with you.

That memory was the only thing keeping you from running out of his room and hiding inside your own until the embarrassment subsided, instead, it helped you to follow through with your plan and accept the outcome of this, like the confident woman that you were.

However, the long pauses that you were taking to organize your ideas were starting to worry the brown-eyed boy in front of you. He’s never seen you like this before, hesitating and so unsure of yourself. Your confident demeanor would often throw him off, and the way you so surely carried yourself wherever you went was a stark contrast to his shy and awkward way of living, but that’s something Jungkook was used to, that’s how things worked between you two. You were the easygoing, extroverted friend that would strike up a conversation with almost anyone, while he was the quiet, shy and reserved friend that was ready to lend his shoulder if you ever needed a good cry.

But this, the way you were so notoriously nervous and preoccupied was something new for Jungkook, a new side of you that he never thought he would see.

“Listen, Y/n, you don’t have to tell me right now. I’ll help you with anything you need, but if you feel like it’s too much in this moment, you can talk to me about it whenever you’re rea–”

“I need you to help me film a video for my page.”

There, you said it, it was all set in stone, with no way to go back. No backtracking, no regretting, no way to undo it. Your words hung in the air with a heavy weight falling upon you two. If Jungkook was startled when you came into his room, he was completely dumbfounded after listening to what you needed.

“Co-Come again.” It wasn’t the smartest way to ask you to repeat yourself, but it sure fit into the conversation. “I-I mean, are you seriously asking me to do what I think you’re asking?”

He wasn’t stupid, Jungkook was familiar with your work, and while he didn’t consume your content, apart from a few pictures he looked at while scrolling through your page out of curiosity, the boy knew exactly what your deal was. Posting your whole body on the internet for almost anyone to see was the easiest way to describe your job; making videos, taking pictures that left little to the imagination for the people that came across your profile, even going as far as hosting lives to chat with your followers and sometimes cater to their filthy needs. That’s the kind of job you had, the kind of things you were willing to do, and it was crystal clear how comfortable and okay you were with it.

Jungkook had never judged you or questioned what you did for a living, not once in the years he’s known you, mainly out of respect and because it was none of his business, but also because he didn’t want to think or imagine the things you did in front of the camera. Now, however, he might have to, because what you were asking of him was more than what he was expecting from you.

Asking him to cook dinner, fix your laptop or pick up his clothes from the bathroom floor was okay with him, he could do it in a heartbeat, but filming a video for your secret page was something he was not ready for.

“I know it sounds crazy, believe me. I actually thought about this for a few days, but I wouldn’t ask you to do it if I truly didn’t need your help.” You were almost ready to beg him at this point. It has been weeks since the last time you posted a video and the lack of content was starting to upset your followers. There was really no other option. “I swear I’ll try to make it as normal as possible, but I really need you”

She needs me.

Jungkook had to look away from you, the pleading eyes you were sending his way were starting to affect him more than they should have, and while he was usually willing to lend you a helping hand at any moment, this time he really needed some time to think about it.

“I don’t know, Y/n…” He hesitated, taking his glasses off for a brief moment and rubbing his eyes. “I mean, why me? Doesn’t Eunbi usually help you with that stuff?”

“Yeah, she does, but it’s mainly to help me choose an outfit, makeup or the color of the lights. She doesn’t know about cameras like you do. And lately my followers have been complaining about my poor filming skills.” You finally explained your reasons behind it all. “You’re a photography major after all, wouldn’t you know about angles, settings, and all that stuff better than us?”

You took some cautious steps towards your roommate before making him turn around in his chair only for you to sit on his lap. You were aware that it was an unfair strategy to use on him, but desperate times call for desperate measures, don’t they?

A blaring alarm went off inside of Jungkook’s head the moment you became painfully close to him, invading his personal space. Then again, it was not out of the ordinary for you to be touchy-feely with him, but the boy still had a hard time getting used to your overly affectionate demeanor. His hands were eager to lay on the warm skin of your waist and feel your soft flesh against his, nonetheless, he knew better than crossing that line. If Jungkook wanted to maintain his sanity, he needed to remain still for as long as possible.

“Would you be a sweetheart and help me with this, Kookie?

Fuck, not that nickname.

Jungkook melted right on the spot whenever you called him that or any other short variant of his name. He was weak for you and both of you were aware of it.

“I…” It was a hard decision, but how could he say no to you when you were looking at him as if he was your only saviour. “Okay, yes. I’ll help you, but just this time. I will teach you everything you need to know to make your videos better, but next time you’ll be on your own.”

“Oh my god! Thank you, Kook, thank you so much.” Your arms found their way to his neck, engulfing the shy boy into an effusive hug. “I promise I’ll repay you with anything you want.”

“We can figure that out afterwards, don’t worry about it now.” He assured you with a sheepish grin while his hands finally reciprocated the affection by timidly patting your back.

The more you stayed in that position, the more Jungkook wondered if he was really ready to take such a big step into your dynamic, however, there was no way out. You were already counting on him.

What have I gotten myself into?

The following days were spent trying to figure out the logistics and set a schedule that would work for the both of you. Despite what anyone would think, Jungkook was a very busy guy, between his major, work and tutoring lessons he offered three days a week, he had little to no time to hangout with his friends or even watch a movie with you. Therefore, Saturday seemed like the safest option to film the video. Usually Jungkook would play online games with his friends during the weekends as it was the only time he could actually have some free time for himself, but he was willing to sacrifice one day just this time, especially if it was for you.

The boy was in a constant fight or flight mode during those days, overthinking every single minute of his day about how terribly wrong the whole thing could go. He had a plan from A to Z for any unfortunate situation that might occur, only to prevent ruining your friendship any further. Jungkook was so anxious and absorbed in the predicament that he didn’t even notice when Saturday finally arrived.

In a blink of an eye both of you were already making sure that everything was ready to start filming. You would use his professional camera instead of your phone to enhance the quality of the video; he helped you find the perfect spot in your room, void of your personal stuff or anything that could be used to reveal your real identity. He even showed you the angles that you could use to prevent your face from showing but still giving your followers what they wanted. The setting and ambience was perfect, with the perfect amount of lighting and the right color to make the whole moment more enjoyable for your viewers.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His soft voice echoed through the room while you were doing some touch ups to your makeup. Jungkook was doing a good job with keeping a straight face and calm attitude. It was barely impossible to tell how nervous and anxious he was at that precise moment.

“I’m ready.” You stood up from the chair in front of your vanity, and started your way towards the place where you would be filming. It was a corner decorated with a bunch of pillows and a fluffy blanket to make it comfortable for you. “I should take this off now, shouldn’t I?” A nervous giggle escaped your mouth while pointing to your robe.

It would be the first time you would present yourself like this to Jungkook, at least that you were aware of. The boy had already seen more of your body that he would’ve preferred, thanks to his curiosity, however, this time it was different, it wasn’t a simple picture of you in lingerie or with your bare chest showing. It was you in the flesh, quite literally. Naked and ready to put your body under a plethora of sensations he could only think of —he shouldn’t even think about it in all honesty—, along with sounds that up until this moment were only part of his imagination.

“Do-Do you want me to like… turn around?”

It was an innocent and genuine question, yet you couldn’t help but laugh.

“There’s no point. You’ll have to see me to check that the filming is going right, either way.” You waved him off, trying to ease his worries. “It’s okay, don’t read too much into it, you’re only being a good friend and helping me.”

“Sure… a good friend.”

Why does it bother me so much when she calls me that?

Oh, if only he understood.

“Okay, here goes nothing.” In a swift motion you undid the knot of your robe, taking the piece of clothing completely off to show your body covered in the prettiest set of red lingerie that you owned.

Your tits were engulfed by the soft lace of your bra, adorned with a red bow right in the center, drawing more attention to your cleavage. Your panties left little to the imagination; see through lace covering just enough to tease the viewers and make them crave for more of your beautiful body. In hindsight, it wasn’t the sexiest or most elegant set out there, but you liked the way it enhanced your features just the right way to feel comfortable and sexy with your body. And as it turns out, Jungkook thought exactly the same.

The boy could not tear his eyes, covered with his round glasses, away from your figure, taking his time to let the way you presented yourself before him sink in. So bare and vulnerable, yet so sexy and confident. You looked incredibly stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, delectable… words were not enough to describe what he thought of you the moment your robe fell to your feet. However, along with appreciating your body came the realization that helping you film this video would be the hardest task he would ever do.

How can I do this to myself?

“Does it look good?” A very dangerous question, but it was intended to ease the tension already forming in between the two. The longer Jungkook took to answer, the more you wondered if you chose the correct outfit “Should I change?”

“No!” His answer, then, was definitive. “I-I mean, you don’t really need to change, unless you want to. It looks… good, very good on you.” He used one finger to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

His cheeks turning red was something you could not ignore, it brought a sweet smile to your face.

“Alright then, let’s get this over with!”

A faint fighting came out of your roommate’s mouth while waiting for you to position yourself in front of the camera. The moment you stepped into the comfortable yet sexy set your whole demeanor changed. Your cheerful smile was replaced with a cheeky smirk; your eyes were charged with this sensual energy that made the boy in front of you swallow harshly; your velvety voice was like a siren chant, luring him to step closer and fall into the trap.

Jungkook was mesmerized by the nonchalant way you executed every single movement, as if it was second nature for you, and it sure was. It was part of your routine, part of your lifestyle. The brown-haired man was only now discovering what it was like, but you’ve been under the spotlight for quite some time. Your hands knew perfectly well the path they had to go through to get to the most sensitive parts of your body. Your fingers knew just the right amount of pressure they had to put into your flesh to elicit those sinful sounds. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts, you knew what to do and you loved every single second of it.

Jungkook was entranced by your performance, hands curled into fists to prevent them from acting on their own; cheeks tinted with a rosy color that got lost in the red lights adorning your room. His eyes were glued to your fingers dancing up and down your sides, stealing faint sighs out of you. He had a love-hate reaction to how long you were taking to strip out of your bra. It was sensual, teasing, yet it made the boy fall into a desperate state, eager to see you fully, in all your glory.

“I’ve missed you guys so much.” Your sultry voice sent a shiver down his spine, but the words coming out of your mouth were a cold reminder that he wasn’t there as a viewer but rather as a helper. “It’s been so long since the last time we saw each other.”

A small gasp fell from your lips when you finally pushed down the cups of your bra to display your bare chest. Your hardened nipples were glazed with your saliva after running your wet fingers over them. Little by little you let loose, forgetting that Jungkook was even there, watching you touch yourself and talk to the camera with the most cliche and nasty lines you’ve mastered up until now. Once again, it was part of your routine, and in that routine you needed to have some sort of interaction with your viewers. But truth be told, Jungkook was loving it. He loved how free you looked, and probably felt. He loved how careless you were, how you never hesitated to take a step further and further until you were fully naked, panting and moaning while your fingers graced your inner thighs with a tender touch. He loved it because you were in your element, you were in full control of yourself and body, and that was beyond attractive for him.

“Shit.” A breathy moan elicited from your soft lips when your fingers ran over your folds with a feather-like touch. “I’m so wet.”

Fuck.

Jungkook mentally cursed himself for getting into this situation. It was so hard to watch you in such a lewd way and not be able to get involved. But then again, even thinking of the possibility of being the reason behind your sinful sounds was beyond wrong. You were his friend, his roommate for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be thinking of you in that way.

He shouldn’t think of how beautiful you’d look under him, writhing and chanting his…

“Jungkook.”

Fuck, yes.

“Jungkook!”

If only I could make her sound like that.

“Kook!! I’m talking to you.”

Your urgent tone snapped him out of his dirty thoughts. His eyes connected with yours, with a disoriented expression as he fixed his glasses.

“Shit, sorry, I just… zoned out for a bit.” He tried to excuse himself, but the way his voice cracked in the middle of the sentence prevented it from sounding sincere. “Wh-What were you saying?”

You chuckled, deciding to ignore his reaction and cutting right to the point.

“I can’t get into it.”

“What do you mean?”

His tilted head and innocent, round eyes made your frustration lessen. The whole time you let your hands run free over your skin you were trying —almost begging, to get in the mood to continue with the video, but as it turned out, you were nowhere near turned on. It was disappointing — after putting so much effort into it and gathering the courage to ask Jungkook for help, you couldn’t even get aroused.

What is wrong with me today?

With a deep sigh, you sat right up and covered your naked skin with the fluffy blanket next to you. “What I mean is that I can’t get in the mood to, you know… do it.”

“I’m not following.” Jungkook shook his head slowly, trying to comprehend the message that you were sending him. “Do you need anything? Are you uncomfortable?”

“No, it’s not that. I just can’t get turned on.” Plain and simple. He surely would get what you were trying to say.

“You mean that you’re not–”

“Oh my god, I’m not wet enough to continue filming!”

A pregnant silence fell into the room. Neither of you dared to move or say a single thing after that. Jungkook was rendered speechless after your confession and you could not even look at his face due to the embarrassment you were experiencing right in that moment. Maybe it was too much information, but then again, you were literally naked in front of him, voicing out your frustrations to the only other person in the room wouldn’t be that bad, would it?

Well, apparently it was, especially because it was not just anyone but Jungkook. The boy who not only had to endure seeing you touch yourself but also had to listen to your ridiculous complaints about not being aroused.

“Bu-But you just… you said you were…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence. “Fuck, I feel so lost right now.”

The brown-eyed boy was so confused, if your facial expressions and sounds were anything to go by, Jungkook could swear on his life that you were enjoying it. Your frustrated reaction and straightforward confession threw him off; how come he was fighting his own instincts and urges to not come right on the spot while you were faking it all along? Maybe it was due to being the first time in such an environment with you. Would your viewers know when you’re not being genuine and that’s why you stopped? Or was he really that clueless to women’s pleasure?

“I was acting.” You confessed. “Sometimes I talk like that to help myself and get in the mood, but clearly today is not working for me.” A dejected groan flew out of your mouth.

“Can I, I don’t know, help you with that?” He shyly asked, “Maybe it’s because I’m here. Perhaps having another person in the room is making it difficult for you, I can leave…”

You shook your head, “No, if anything, your presence is helping me to feel somehow relaxed.” You thought about it for a second, trying to come up with a quick solution. “Maybe we can try something else.”

“What would that be?”

It took you a few seconds to voice your idea, mainly out of fear and nervousness due to how much it could damage your friendship. In all honesty, involving Jungkook in the filming was already damaging and risky enough, but it was still within the limits you mentally established for this situation. What you were about to ask him, however, was beyond those limits.

“Could you step closer?” You waited a few seconds before developing your whole idea. “I mean, could you film me from a closer angle?”

“Would that really help?” He asked in a shaky voice.

“We could try and see.”

And see he did. Jungkook moved from his position behind the camera, trying to get his equipment and himself as close to you as possible —losing a little bit of his sanity in the process— with the utmost caution and respect. He didn’t want to overstep the boundaries that were established before starting filming, he also didn’t want to do a wrong movement and throw everything to waste. Jeon had the opportunity to see your body from a closer perspective, and albeit unsure, he managed to keep calm and resume his work.

“Is this okay?” Your roommate asked, angling the camera to focus solely on the space between your legs, right where your fingers wished to disappear in. “Tell me if it becomes too much, okay?”

“Will do.”

After listening to your words of approval and making sure you felt comfortable with the new position, Jungkook continued filming you and every single movement you did. It was hypnotizing how you so confidently went back to your previous endeavors to get you in the mood. Your noises sounded sexier, your breathing was heavier, your eyes were closed tighter than before, willing yourself to enjoy the moment thoroughly and push back the feeling of being so exposed to the only man you swore would never see you like this.

Jungkook tried to stay calm and collected, cool and relaxed, even when he felt the air getting stuck in his throat when he watched your fingers dive into your warm walls through the lenses of the camera.

“Fuck…” He breathed out without realizing. The boy was quick to cover his mouth with his hand when he noticed your quizzical look. “Sorry.” Jungkook mouthed and focused on his work as the cameraman.

You continued with your ministrations, ignoring the heat in your cheeks that wasn’t exactly due to finally getting worked up from your touches. Your fingers moved in and out of your cunt, slowly and carefully, as if you were calculating what you were going to do next. A faint moan fell from your lips, eliciting a raspy groan from the boy in front of you.

Right in that moment you noticed how aggravated Jungkook was. Eyes shining in the dark like a pair of beautiful stars but with a glint of lust covering them along with his glasses; lips parted, letting out his heavy breath and small sighs. His hands were twitching at his sides, eager to move and, most likely, to touch what he was not even allowed to taste.

Maybe this was more than he could handle, maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to help you with this video, perhaps this was already creating a dent in your friendship that you were nowhere close to know how to fix, but the way he was looking at you was nothing you had ever seen before, at least not from him. There was hunger, need and desperation mixed in his hard glare, and as much as you wanted to deny and ignore it, his reaction was doing wonders on you. And so a new idea was installed in your mind. Your friendship was already beyond salvation, how bad would it be to make a last request?

“Kook…” You breathed out, “I need you.”

It was so subtle, so fleeting the smugness that covered his face that you barely noticed. His eyes widened and his lips moved like that of a fish trying to survive out of the water, he didn’t know what to do, much less what to say.

“Me?” He whispered, completely clueless of the effect he was having on you in that moment. You nodded, fingers stilling in between your legs. “Wh-What do you mean?”

You sat up, stopping the filming once again. “Exactly what I said, I need you… I-I need your help with something else. You can say no, but… I would be forever grateful to you if you said yes.”

Jungkook was putting to use his 128 IQ score to try and understand what you were hinting at, but none the wiser, he needed the words spelled out to him to get your idea. And so, as softly as possible, you explained what your need was actually about. You noticed the way his body reacted to you and the show you were putting on for your viewers but more specifically for him; it was painfully obvious how much he desired you, and in all honesty, you weren’t any better.

Ever since you two started living together, you swore that you wouldn’t act on the small and silly crush you developed for him after meeting for the first time. It was just a silly attraction that wasn’t worth the hassle of getting involved with your roommate; his built body and big biceps drove you crazy, and you couldn’t turn a blind eye to the intricate tattoos adorning his arm, which was such a stark contrast to the type of man he made himself out to be; the lip ring shining from his mouth was so painfully enticing, and more often than not, you found yourself wondering what it would feel like against your lips while kissing the life out of him. And God bless the person that gets you started on how much you loved those black rimmed glasses that adorned his eyes almost 24/7, giving him a geeky look that would never fail to make you weak in the knees. But all of those features, as well as the lewd scenarios conquering your mind minutes before going to sleep, had made it difficult for you to stay in your lane all this time. Tonight, however, might be your one and only chance to turn your dirty dreams into reality, only and only if Jungkook agreed to your idea.

“I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.” He murmured, looking down at the floor and avoiding your hopeful eyes glaring at him. You reached out for him, your soft hands coming in contact with his covered thighs while you kneeled in front of him. “Y/n… don’t do this to me.” His whole body stiffened, fighting the urge to jump your bones and turn you into a crying mess just like he always imagined.

“You don’t want me like that, Kookie?” You so innocently asked, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones. “Is that the real problem, hm?” Your hands were sliding up and down his thighs, teasing him.

“God, no.” He answered breathlessly, “You have no fucking idea how bad I want you…”

“Then why don’t you show me? What’s stopping you, hm?” Your cheek resting on his jean-covered thigh elicited a soft gasp from your roommate. “It's just a small favor.”

“I… fuck, you’re driving me crazy right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends while letting out a frustrated groan. Jungkook took off his glasses while rubbing his eyes before looking at you again. “You have to promise… you really have to promise that it will be a one-time thing. No more favors after this, at least not of this caliber.”

You nodded eagerly, looking at him with a spark in your eyes. “I promise, just this time.”

“Okay,” Jungkook nodded, “I’ll help you with anything you need.” One of his hands, albeit shakily, reached out to push away a strand of hair falling into your face.

With a wide grin you pull his hand to get him closer to you. It was a bit hard to get his face and the majority of his body out of frame, but both of you managed. Jungkook sat behind you, with his built back leaning on the soft pillows while yours was resting on his firm chest. Both of his strong arms wrapped around your body while his hesitant hands touched your skin lightly.

In all honesty he didn’t know what to do, it felt unreal to be this close to you, especially under those conditions. Jeon was trying so hard to figure out what to do next that the tension conquering his body was noticed by you.

“Relax, Kook, do what you would do with any other girl.” You tried to reassure him while softly stroking his forearm, but the silence in between you two was making you feel uneasy. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Should he answer honestly? The short answer would be yes, he’s done it before; the long one though, would be that he only did it once when he lost his virginity at a random party his friends at the time invited him to. Jungkook couldn’t even remember the name of the girl or how she looked, all he could recall from that time was the awkwardness and how short it lasted. Jeon wasn’t sure that he could live up to your expectations, and while he was not clueless to how it worked, he doubted his performance would be as amazing as that of all your previous sexual partners, which caused part of his nervousness.

He was reading too much into it whereas you were starting to feel desperate and needy. You had the boy of your dreams right behind you with his hands very close to the place that was basically begging to be touched, but not much has happened. It was a bit disappointing how long it was taking him to act, but you also understood that it might not be an easy task to do, especially if it was your roommate doing it.

“Let’s go with an easy start, okay? I’ll lead.” Your hands reached out for his, guiding his right hand towards one of your tits. “You can explore my body as much as you want, don’t be afraid to touch.” And just as if you were reading his mind, you added, “Don’t think too much about it, I won’t be mad if this doesn’t go as planned.”

“Okay.” With a deep sigh he let his fingers feel your skin up, touching, caressing, pinching even.

His slender fingers wrapped around one of your already hardened nipples, toying with it, which elicited a soft gasp from you. His other hand slowly reached for your other tit, trying to stimulate both at the same time.

“Yes… like that, Kook.” Your praising words were helping him to build up his confidence. The more you praised him, the more adventurous he got, letting his hands explore the entirety of your body.

After a few more minutes of playing with your boobs, his hands finally started to drift south, with feather-like touches here and there before reaching your tender thighs. His big hands looked very attractive against your flesh, like the prettiest accessory. The one that was cladded with a bunch of tattoos started to descend more and more, landing small smacks on your inner thigh.

“Oh…” you breathed out, a bit surprised by the sudden move.

“Sorry, should I not have done that?” Jungkook asked, retrieving both of his hands.

“No, no, no!” You pulled them right back where they were placed before. “Please continue… I really liked what you were doing.”

“Okay.”

With a more confident attitude, Jungkook started to touch your thighs, kneading your skin while his hot breath was hitting the back of your neck. In all honesty, it all felt surreal, you never thought that a moment like this would ever happen, that you would have the same boy that you had fantasized about many times before touching you and willing to please you.

“You can use more than your hands, you know?” You whispered softly, closing your eyes due to how good everything was feeling.

“Are you sure?” He murmured really close to your ear, sending shivers through your body. You hummed in response, leaning more and more into his touch. “So, it would be okay if I do this.” His lips graced your neck with a faint kiss, eliciting a small gasp from you. “Or this,” a firmer kiss was placed right under your ear, Jungkook’s lips moving skillfully. “And since I’m at it, you surely wouldn’t mind me doing this,” His teeth sank into your skin suddenly. “Right?”

“Shit…” You moaned out loud, “N-No, I… I don’t mind, at all.”

A husky chuckle erupted from his throat, “Good.” His hands kept moving in between your legs, now finally reaching your needy cunt. “Are you sure you want me to do anything I want to you, Y/n?” You once again hummed, unable to properly answer due to his touches. “I think I might need to hear you say it, before I go any further.”

If he was trying to get your consent or just teasing you, you didn’t know, but you were sure of one thing, you needed to feel any part of him inside of you. Now.

“Fuck, yes, I’m completely sure, don’t make me wait anymore, please.”

It was the please added at the end that really did it for him, the way your needy and desperate voice echoed through the room was enough for Jungkook to give you what you wanted.

He finally pushed one of his fingers inside your velvety walls, slowly sliding in and out with enough easiness that got you wondering just then how wet you were before he started touching you. Your whole body squirmed, reacting at how great it felt to be touched like that. Curses, moans and gasps were falling from your lips, creating the most sensual cacophony.

“You like that?” His husky voice rang through your ears, earning an effusive nod from you, “You like that I’m touching you like this, hm?” You could feel the smug smile against your skin, right under your earlobe, “Maybe I should try harder, since you’re not answering to me.” With no further warning, Jungkook added a second finger, stretching you out deliciously. He picked up his pace as well, pushing in and out with such vigor that got you sinking your nails into your palms.

“Oh my god!” You breathed out.

Where was this sudden change in attitude coming from? Not a minute ago he was acting shy and reserved, as if he had never touched a woman before, as if he didn’t have it in him to wreck you in the way you wanted. But now, that whole act was left behind and there seemed to be no trace of the innocent and nerdy Jungkook you thought you knew, only this suddenly confident and teasing boy, ready to make you fall apart on his fingers.

“That’s not quite the answer I’m looking for.” Jeon goaded you on to the response he wanted from you. “Come on, pretty, tell me how much you like it.”

“Fuck…” You cursed out loud, “I-I can’t.”

It was difficult for you to concentrate on gathering the words that your roommate wished to hear due to his fingers moving deliciously inside of you. He was hitting the right spots with his long and slender digits, over and over again to the point that tears were pooling in the corner of your eyes.

“Hm, and why is that?” Jungkook questioned with feigned innocence in his voice. “Is it really that difficult for you to speak?”

You nodded desperately, looking into his eyes right through those slutty glasses you adored so much. “I can’t… I-I can’t con… centrate.” You finally admitted.

A mocking chuckle flew out of his mouth, his fingers never relenting, “Poor little you.”

“Ah, fuck, Kook.” Your sounds were becoming dirtier, needier, more naughty and desperate as the familiar hot sensation started to invade your body. You knew your release was coming with such rapidness and ease.

It was astonishing how Jungkook could so effortlessly get you to your breaking point, when it took you several minutes to even get aroused. You wanted to believe that it was all due to your previous touching, but deep down you knew that doing it on your own would never get you the pleasure you were experimenting in that moment.

“Shit, you’re squeezing my fingers so much.” He pointed out, struggling to move thanks to the firm grip your walls had on his digits. “So tight and warm.”

If only he knew that his way of talking was only contributing to your forthcoming release. Your eyes could not look away from his face. His hard features and the way his lustful orbs were looking right down at you got you in a trance, one that you didn’t want to get out. The faint smirk on the corner of his lips, along with the lip ring were once again taunting you, tempting you; threatening you with a good time, and just as you were about to reach and find out if your assumptions were correct, Jungkook leaned down and captured your lips in a harsh kiss.

Kissing you for the first time was life-changing, or so he would say, because despite all the girls –only a few actually– he has ever kissed or been intimate with, Jungkook has never felt like this with any of them, so addicted, so eager to taste more of you; craving you in ways that he probably shouldn’t.Your lips were so soft and sweet, and it was right in that moment that he realized that it would be a living hell to go back to normal after getting a taste of you. The way your mouth was chasing after him when he pulled away briefly due to running out of air, it drove him crazy, making him feel light in the head. Being able to see that look in your face as your orgasm was approaching, while your puffy, red lips were begging him to kiss you more was, in fact, something that Jungkook would never forget.

Kissing Jungkook for the first time felt exactly like you imagined, dangerous and messy. It was dangerous because it was right in that moment that you realized that there was no way to go back to your normal routine after this; it wasn’t only because of the intimate act that you both decided to engage in, but because there was no way in hell that you would let him go on with his life without having him like that again. Your previous words became an empty promise the more his lips devoured yours, kissing and biting as if his life depended on it. The coldness of his lip ring was making you shudder and chase for more; you finally got an answer to your question: it felt amazing while kissing. On the other hand, it was messy due to the both of you being so eager to feel more of one another; saliva coating your lips while his tongue finally made an appearance inside your mouth, making you squirm and fight the urge to burst right in that moment.

“I’m so close.” You announced against his lips, panting ridiculously loud.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby?” It was so strange to hear him talk to you like that, using pet names and saying things that Jungkook would never even think of saying in any other situation. “Wanna come on my fingers, hm?”

“Yes, yes, please.” The begging and whiny voice almost made him come in his pants, but Jeon managed to maintain his composure.

“Go on, let go, baby, but keep those pretty eyes on me.” Jungkook’s free hand came up to lay right under your jaw, squeezing lightly but firmly enough to keep you in place. You didn’t have to be told twice, the moment his hand came in contact with your hot skin you felt the waves of your orgasm crash over you. “That’s it… you’re doing so good.”

Fuck, if only he could talk to you like that all the time.

“Oh my god, Jungkook!” You moaned, closing your thighs tightly, capturing his hand in between your legs. “Shit, it feels… so good.”

“I know, doll, I know.”

Not once did your eyes look away from him, not even when the tears started to spill down your face like the most beautiful raindrops, all due to the overwhelming feeling or your orgasm. You couldn’t even grasp the fact that you just came on Jungkook’s fingers, or that your body was shaking uncontrollably while his hand kept moving rather slowly, going from sliding up and down your soaked folds to rubbing your swollen clit. Even in your post-orgasmic state you recognized that one was not enough; as good as his fingers were, you needed more of him. It was more a want than a need, but you couldn’t finish the day without knowing what his cock felt like inside of you.

Craving.

That’s the best way you could describe this feeling; you were craving his body on top of yours, even under, sideways, it didn’t matter, but you had to have more, even if it was just for the night. Even if it would leave a burning memory in your brain to fantasize about in the solitude of your room, when your hands were the only solace for your lewd desires and obscene scenarios playing in your head.

And so, letting the wild side of you speak, you uttered a sentence that was bound to change the whole course of your friendship.

“Jungkook…” You called for him, getting his attention right back on your face rather than in the space in between your legs. After listening to his humming you added “I want you to fuck me.”

His hand came to a halt, fingers not moving an inch, completely frozen in place. His brown eyes were now coated with a glint of fear and uneasiness. Jungkook had been taken by surprise a lot during the day, but right there in that moment, with you eagerly waiting for his response while looking at him with perfect innocent eyes, it had to be the most unexpected thing that could have happened to him.

A deep silence fell in the room once again, with Jungkook quickly retrieving his hands from your body. It took him several minutes to come up with something to say, something that wasn’t pure stuttering and nonsense coming out of his mouth.

“I-I beg your pardon?” His feeble voice rang through your ears due to the proximity, otherwise you wouldn’t have heard him. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me.”

You sat up straight, turning in your place to be face to face with Jungkook. “I’m fully aware that what I’m asking of you might be too much, but I honestly can’t ignore how much I want you, Kook.” You leaned forward, straddling his hips and resting both of your hands on his shoulders. “I thought you liked this too.”

It was funny how minutes ago he was completely into you, adamant on making you come and talking with his sultry voice until you fell apart on his fingers and now he was back to his shy and reserved persona; stuttering while trying to gather his thoughts. There were two sides of Jungkook as it seems. One was simply Jungkook, the co-founder of a comic club at your local library; the boy that spent a whole night trying to recover a document you foolishly deleted the night before you had to submit it. Jungkook who always pulled you close whenever you walked near a group of guys whose eyes were glued to your legs, and the one that didn’t hesitate to go and buy you a bunch of snacks as a way of comfort when a date you were so excited to go on went terribly wrong. That was the Jungkook you knew and adored, the one that was ready to do anything for you, being at your beck and call, but that also would get upset if you interrupted him while watching his favorite show.

And then, there was Jeon Jungkook, the boy that rocked your entire world with a few touches. The boy that spoke to you in such a sensual voice with the craziest sentences that you would never imagine him uttering. The Jungkook that called you baby, doll, pretty and kissed you so passionately that you almost forgot your name. The same man that unexpectedly acted with confidence, sure of himself and what he was doing, moving his skillful fingers in and out of your cunt with an ease that left you beyond surprised. There was the side of Jungkook that you didn’t know, and that was exactly why you needed to have more of him.

“It’ll be just this time, remember? Why not go all the way out and have a little fun yourself?” You reiterated your previous promise, even though you knew it was far from being the last time having each other like this. Without thinking too much about it, you started to grind your soaked cunt on top of his crotch; hips moving slowly to rub deliciously on top of him. “So what do you say, hm?”

You could see his self-control starting to crumble the more you rubbed yourself on him. His hardening cock felt wonderful under your hot pussy, along with the rough material of his jeans, because yes, he’s the type of guy to wear jeans while being home, even if he wasn’t expecting anyone to visit him.

You were getting too lost in the sensation, in the way Jungkook was fighting against his own moans escaping his lips or his hips thrusting up into you that you were startled by the weight of his hands on your hips, stilling you in place and preventing you from moving any further.

“I say,” He began with a husky tone, “that you’re making it really difficult to be nice to you.”

Those words caused a shit-eating grin to appear on your face, and with the most seductive voice you could muster you said “I didn’t ask you to be nice to me.” Leaning in closer to his ear you added “I asked you to fuck me… as hard as you possibly can.”

A hiss abandoned his lips while Jungkook’s hands squeezed your hips deliciously tight.

“Is that what you really want, hm? For me to fuck you senseless.” One of his hands weaved through your hair, pulling you away with enough strength to get you to look right into his eyes. “Didn’t think you would be that desperate.” A mocking chuckle echoed through your four walls, bouncing on every corner and back to your warm ears.

“You clearly don’t know everything about me.” You said through gritted teeth, the harsh grip he had on your hair was hurting you in the right way, making you wetter by the second. “Please say yes… I need you so bad, baby.”

It was the first time you called him that, and Jungkook would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy listening to your sweet voice saying it. He retrieved his hand from your hair, changing his direction to rest his thumb right onto your bottom lip.

“I did promise I would help you with anything you needed, didn’t I?” A playful smirk adorned the corner of his mouth.

“That you did,” You pointed out. “And now you have to keep your promise.”

“Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want you thinking I’m not a man of my word.” Jungkook sighed. “But you have to be good, okay? You gotta be good for me.” His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, ever so slightly, making it bounce right into place after playing with it.

An electrifying rush went down your spine by the way his voice tone changed so quickly. Once again, there was no trace of his shy demeanor as it seemed to blend into this smug attitude growing slowly inside of him. A lazy smile took place on his face while his hand continued to caress your tender skin.

“You’re gonna be my good girl, hm? Do exactly as I say?”

A moan flew out of your mouth, not expecting him to say it so confidently. You nodded effusively, though, wanting nothing more than to follow whatever order he had for you.

Hot cute, he thought, admiring the way you were so eager to agree to anything he said.

“I need you to say it, Y/n. Use your words, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be good, I’ll do anything you ask me to.”

“Alright then, let’s see how much you can handle.”

taglist 🏷️: @petalsofink @goldietigers294 @ggukieshoe @jk-190811 @hanamgi @internetbelle @songbyeonkim @berryonasummerevening

if your user is in bold it means i couldn’t tag u !

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook fic #nerdy!jungkook #roommate!jungkook #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x reader smut #[closer to you fic!]#cty!jungkook #🥢town originals!#🥢.townsmut!

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garden0fyves · 1 month ago

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thinking about… your older boyfriend, joel who you’ve yet to be intimate with. joel knows you’re a virgin and that scares him, he isn’t some virgin killer. he’s old and his back and knees ache when he stands. but, when you tell him you’re ready something inside him changes. you’re all doe eyed, a soft pout on your lips as you look up at him. “fuck me, please?” the sudden lilt to your voice, the desperation leaking from your words. joel’s never been this turned on in his life.

suddenly, he forgets the guilt of being your first. he forgets all of those things he’s been nervous about. all he can think of taking care of his princess, eating your cunt and making sure you’re properly stretched before he presses his fat cock into your tight pussy. all he can think about is the way your lips part, the way your eyes glaze over and your body warms. the way your nails dig into his back and desperate whines of his name fall from those kiss-bitten lips. “you feel so good, joel. please- dunno what i want, baby just please!” and who is he to deny you?

joel presses a rough finger to your cunt, trying his best to not cum inside of you just from how wet his finger gets from the action. he admires the way your pretty pussy flutters around him at the action because this is new to you. you’ve never felt this before, never had this perfect pussy fucked. and now you were all his. his sweet, dirty girl. “you’re doing so good. so fuckin’ good.” his rough voice whispers against your wet lips. your back arches from the praise and your lips brush just slightly. “y’feel so good, daddy. never- ohhh fuck! never knew it’d be this good. should’ve let you fuck me sooner.”

joel stiffens at your words. his free hand tightens on your hip and his eyes squeeze shut. he’s not strong enough for this. he’s old and you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever had. “sweetheart.” he grumbles, brown eyes opening to meet yours. despite the tears in your eyes you could see the pain and pleasure on joel’s face. your lips pull into a weak smile. “i mean it, joel.” you purr, fingers curling into his hair. “would’ve been ready sooner if i knew you’d take such good care of me.” your voice is breathy and despite the smell of sex filling the air, joel’s so close that he can still smell your warm vanilla perfume.

you smell so fucking good, your cunt feels so good, and the way your lips look while you’re talking—it’s driving him crazy. joel leans down to press his lips against yours in the sweetest kiss he can muster. everything about you currently is sinful. his thoughts are disgusting and it’s all because of you. “joel, baby, dunno- oh my god!” your words are gasped against his mouth. your pussy flutters and your tummy clenches, there’s this newfound pressure seated deep in your pelvis that you’ve never felt before. your body’s practically urging you to pull away from joel, but another part of you wants him to fuck you harder and deeper.

“gonna cum, joel! fuck me harder please please please!” joel thinks you’re being needy, but he remembers you’ve never done this before. he moans against your lips at the sudden reminder that this is your first time, he’s your first. the first to be in this pussy. god, he must’ve been a saint in his past life. joel fucks into you with a new sense of urgency. he wants to watch you fall apart. he wants to see what faces you make when you cum on his dick. how you look when you do something reserved for him—only him. “pretty fuckin’ girl, go ahead. cum for me, sweetheart.”

your orgasm passes through you in a flash of white light. your body’s on fire and your pussy’s clenching tighter than you’d known possible from yourself. joel watches you cum with a burning feeling in his chest. your eyes slam shut and your lips part, though the only thing that passes them is his name. your body’s so fucking warm, so fucking tight. and as he takes in the sight he finds himself cumming deep inside of you. you’d clenched so tight that he could barely move, so tight joel could have only imagined this. your hands claw at his back as your orgasm continues through his. your eyes flutter open just to catch joel’s face as he cums.

his brows are furrowed and eyes barely open so he could watch you. “you’re so good to me.” you breath softly, sniffling as your orgasms subsides. joel chuckles, something low and husky. he kisses the tears from your cheeks before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. “you make it easy to be, sweetheart.”

#gardenofyves #yvieyaps #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou smut #the last of us smut

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lymtw · 11 months ago

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Aftercare

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

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seijorhi · 22 days ago

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Divine Rights

for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy as a somewhat late, sort of birthday present aka the royal fic y'all have been waiting weeks for oikawa tooru x female reader w.c 5.6k tw: non-con, yandere themes, blood and a little gore, murder, violence, abuse, pregnancy & childbirth, breeding kink, smut, nsfw

“Miyuki forgot to bring me my tea this afternoon.” At the blank look you get in response, you hasten to clarify, “The maid– the new one, I mean. She always brings it after lunch, but today she forgot.”

Guilt needles you with every word. You like Miyuki. Quiet as a mouse, most of the time she can hardly bring herself to meet your eye, much less talk with you, but on the days she finishes her tasks quickly enough – the days the guards aren’t watching the clock – she’ll sit with you while you sew or practice your reading. For a brief moment, you can imagine her a friend. Perhaps if you were her friend, or at least a better friend, you’d ignore the gnawing unease in the pit of your stomach, keep your mouth shut and spare her.

Because there will be consequences, of that you’re certain. Whatever grace the King affords you on a whim does not extend to the servants scurrying throughout the castle. Most especially those few he allows within your presence.

Stretched out languidly beside you, Oikawa arches an eyebrow. “Your tea?” he repeats.

Your cheeks flame. What you’d give right now to squirm away from him, crawl out of his bed, this room, and disappear entirely just to avoid him and this mortifying conversation.

There’s a voice in the back of your head that reminds you that there’s a decent chance Oikawa’s ignorant of all of it. Why should he have to concern himself with trivialities like contraception or pulling out? He’s the King, there’ll always be those who trail along after him, cleaning up his messes. No royal bastards. No loose ends when the blacksmith’s youngest disappears behind the walls of the castle keep.

“So that we don’t– there’s no chance of a– a baby. I meant to say something earlier, but…” you trail off, the slow trickle of his seed oozing from the raw ache between your legs speaking for itself.

With your oldest sister and her husband, it’d taken months for her to fall pregnant. Newlyweds don’t always conceive within the first year. If every accidental slip left women pregnant, the streets by the brothels would run riot with unclaimed bastards. It’ll be fine.

You drank the tea Miyuki brought you yesterday, so long as she brings it shortly, and you take it as normal again tomorrow–

Long, elegant fingers coax at your chin, derailing the runaway thought in its tracks. His chuckle, deep and low, registers a split second before the kiss. “Not a mistake,” he tells you, murmuring against your lips. “You’re going to give me an heir, sweet girl. Two, actually. An heir and a spare, and maybe a few after that, if you’re very, very good for me.” He says it indulgently, his own breath catching on a low shudder when his index and middle fingers curl up into your pussy, pushing his spend back inside of you, “Where it belongs,” he whispers.

You seize his forearm, “T-Tooru–” you gasp.

He has to be joking. You can’t– He wouldn’t–

The tea made sense. You’ve no title, you’re not his wife nor his Queen, not a Lady of the court or the daughter of some important, foreign dignitary. Outside the walls of these chambers, you do not exist at all. You aren’t anyone, anything beyond what he desires you to be.

You cannot have his child.

“Please, I don’t want this. I’m not– I’m not ready.” Your nails are digging half moon circles into his skin, and the prickle of tears unshed and the lump in your throat make your voice thick and strained, but the King meets your panicked gaze with a twinkle in his eye.

“You are,” he kisses your forehead, “and you will,” your mouth, sucking on your lower lip. “Trust in your King, love. Everything is as it’s meant to be.”

The woman who brings your meals the next day doesn’t linger, she scurries about, shoulders drawn, flinching when you ask her name.

There’s no tea – not that afternoon, or any that follow.

—

When you were younger, you used to pretend you lived in the castle up on the hill.

Your two older brothers would fight over which would play King while you and your sisters danced and sipped honeyed drinks and pretended to give your favour to one or the other, only to order them about once they’d been crowned. You imagined dances and feasts and thrilling hunts, tournaments with brave knights and roaring crowds. Never a dull moment.

A life of luxury forever out of reach.

Until it was forced upon you, but only a shadow.

You eat delicacies you could only have dreamed of, taste rich, heady wine on the King’s tongue – once, a mouthful from his lips, Oikawa laving up the droplet that spilled down your chin.

But while you hear the distant, muted melodies that play somewhere down below, you’ve never sat in the hall by his side. Only a few of the names he rattles off you recognise. The others remain blurry figures in your head, characters in a play you’ve yet to attend. Won’t ever attend, if the King has his way.

The court gossip you learn in dribs and drabs, never enough to paint a complete picture, and for all that he chatters away in your ear, Oikawa shares little. You aren’t privy to the schemes that run through the castle, the kingdom at large, from its highest echelon. Nothing for you to trouble your pretty little head over.

It should come as no surprise then that news of his upcoming nuptials doesn’t come from the King himself.

“I imagine they’ll be moving you,” the maid – Miyuki’s replacement – says one afternoon, out of the blue. And it might not come as such a shock if she’d ever spoken to you before that, if the comments weren’t accompanied by a wide eyed, frantic look at odds with her stilted delivery, if you had any idea what she was on about to begin with.

You blink at her. “Moving me?”

She nods, a shaking jut of her chin. “When the King marries at week’s end. If he decides to keep you, it won’t be here.”

If.

Oikawa’s never bothered with sweet lies. Every vow he’s ever made to you, he’s followed through on, every threat delivered – no matter your tears. In that, at least, you trust him. When he withheld the tea and told you he wanted you to give him an heir, you believed it. He had no reason to lie.

Your mind spins, trying in vain to pluck the threads of an unravelling tapestry; the colours wrong and the image distorted.

A Queen doesn’t bode well. Moving you would be the logical step; there’s no doubt a plethora of nooks and crannies he could lock you away in until he’s gotten what he wants – but now that makes even less sense than before.

A cold feeling prickles at the nape of your neck.

And then what? What happens when you give him the child he wants? What happens when you outlive your usefulness?

You’ve become stone, blank faced, frozen if not for the slight tremor in your – the hand she seizes by your wrist, fingers digging in tight. Dropping all pretence, she steps closer, voice lowering to a frightened whisper, “You need to leave. Whatever you think you’re gaining from this, you aren’t. He’ll kill us all before–”

“Enough.”

The maid snaps back like she’s been scalded, dropping into a hasty curtsy, eyes fixed to the floor as one of Oikawa’s Royal Guards – knights in their own right – Matsukawa, strides into the room, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

He spares you only a glance, a quick, cursory look to determine you’re unharmed. A laughable notion, really, when one considers his King’s penchant for manhandling.

“She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“She had her hands on you,” he counters. And the King will not abide that.

You bite your tongue, sinking down onto the bed as Matsukawa steps aside and the maid – she never told you her name, never answered when you asked – all but flees with a hand to her mouth, muffling a sob. Matsukawa leaves behind her, the door quietly shut in his wake.

For a long time after that you sit in silence.

Eventually, the door opens again – a boy this time, no older than seven, carrying a tray from the kitchens. He stares with wide, awe filled eyes, and bows and stammers out an apology, cheeks flushed apple red. Only the ache in your chest draws the corners of your lips upwards into a paper-thin smile.

Your sister’s boys would’ve been his age.

If, if, if–

“I hear you’ve had an exciting day, my love.”

The sun has set. The King has returned home to roost.

“Is that why?” you ask, hardly glancing up as he makes his way over towards you.

“Why what?”

“I-is she barren? Hideous? Too old to bear children, or too– too–” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. Cruel, heartless and selfish he may be, you have to believe there’s at least one boundary he wouldn’t cross. “What happens to me when all this is done? When you have your heirs, or you grow weary of this– of… me?” you ask instead.

You don’t realise tears are rolling down your face until he’s looming over you, having pushed his way between your legs, cupping your cheeks to wipe them away. The gesture could almost be construed as something comforting, something genuine, if not for the preening satisfaction behind his sigh.

“My stubborn, sensitive girl, twisting yourself into knots over things that aren’t yours to worry about. We’d both be much happier if you just left well enough alone and trusted me, hm? You know I can’t stand to see you cry.” Liar. “But if it will ease that tender heart of yours, know that she’s a whining cunt, I have a sizeable new merchant fleet courtesy of her father, and there is no scenario, in this or any other life–” his expression doesn’t waver, but every trace of levity bleeds from his voice as his thumb slides between your lips, “–where I will ever be done with you, do you understand?”

You nod. With his thumb hooked in your mouth, pressing against your tongue, it’s all you can do.

“Good girl. Always so good for me.”

It isn’t unexpected when his other hand moves to unlace his breeches and fish out his cock.

“Get it wet,” he breathes.

When he’s feeling generous, your King’s the one to sink between your knees, tongue and fingers working at your core until you’re panting, dizzy on the edge of pleasure, warm and welcoming, dripping with a need that’s his to sate.

But the King isn’t feeling generous tonight. Gathering your hair in his fist, he lets out an anticipatory breath, a near hiss, when your fingers curl around him and you lean in, lips obediently parting. Your tongue swirls around the velvety head giving it a light, experimental suck, and his hips buck, chasing the sensation.

Usually, Oikawa enjoys your mouth almost as much as your pussy, preferring to draw it out, edge himself, let you demonstrate your ardent devotion to your King, your love – but there’s none of that now. Your scalp screams for relief when he tightens his grip, and though you should have been expecting it, the sudden thrust into your mouth takes you by surprise, eyes shooting wide, choking on the intrusion.

It’s rough and graceless, the wet, gagging sounds that spill out amidst his panting, the tears that spring to your eyes and the burn in the back of your throat. You barely have the presence of mind to work your tongue, hollow your cheeks. Suck like he wants you to.

The reprieve comes without warning, Oikawa yanking you off by your hair. True enough, every inch of his thick, flushed cock shines with your spit, gleaming in the flickering candlelight.

“Lie back,” he orders.

You sprawl back onto the bed.

None of your earlier nerves have eased, but the tremor in your heart has everything to do with the naked desire that bleeds across his expression as he finishes ridding himself of his clothes. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous.”

You shake your head, fingers fluttering in the sheets either side of you.

“No?” he purrs. “You don’t wish it were you I were putting in a crown–” Your insides twist into knots as he crawls onto the bed taking an ankle in his grip. A soft whine escapes, but he simply trails his fingers lovingly along your calf, pushing your shift up and sliding closer. “–pledging myself to in the eyes of God and our Countrymen?”

Your breath hitches. He knocks your legs wider, slotting himself into the open space. “I–I wouldn’t dare to be so bold. I’m already yours, that’s… that’s enough for me.”

He laughs darkly, pressing a kiss to your knee and lifting it to his shoulder. “You are mine, but if you want a crown, I’ll give you one.”

You seize the sheets, gasping for air when his cock slides into you in a slow, punishing thrust.

“I’ll give you a crown, the dress, all the pretty diamonds and rubies you like so long as I can have you like this you while wear them– fuck,” he moans, eyes closing, head tilted back as he savours the tight warmth of your pussy, squeezing at his cock.

He leans down, seeking the taste of your swollen lips. With his tongue licking greedily into the open seam of your mouth, he rolls his hips and falls into a rhythm which leaves you writhing and squirming beneath him. The drag of his cock stings. The King’s never cared that it hurts and it doesn’t affect him now, his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, dragging you closer, shifting your hips so the angle is better. Deeper. Every inch of you claimed, every inch of you his.

“I’ll marry you too, if that’s what you want,” he pants.

Each whimper, sharp, stuttered breath, plea for clemency, for a second’s reprieve – they spur him on. Drive him to the brink. You’re sweltering from inside out. Sweat forms at your forehead, beading along the nape of your neck – through hazy eyes, you watch a droplet trickle down Oikawa’s bare chest, struck with the strangest desire to push yourself up and lap at it, all the while the King’s cock rocks inside of you, deep, hard strokes that rob you of sense.

Your bones rattle with each slam of his hips against the cradle of your thighs, your cries swallowed by his tongue, soothed with a kiss. Pain and pleasure war, bleeding over until they’re indiscernible from one another. “We’ll do it in the Old Ways,” he tells you, his eyes alight, his smile almost savage in its raw pleasure. “Oaths sealed in blood and fucking, witnessed by a Priest. I wouldn’t let any of those old fucks anywhere near you, but Iwa should suffice.”

All you can do is cry out, clutching at his forearm. You’re sure that your nails break the skin, but it only urges Oikawa on.

“You want Iwa to come watch me split you apart on my cock, hm?” His weight drops, leaning over and nearly folding you in two, and on the next thrust you see stars that blink out your vision. “You want him to marry us?” You shatter beneath him, eyes rolling back, body shuddering as pleasure explodes inside of you, fizzing through your veins til every part of you is alight with it.

The King swears violently, the heat of your spasming cunt driving him over the edge. With his forehead pressed against yours, he cums with a gritted out moan, fucking his release deep inside of you. Where it belongs.

—

The disparity between the two of you is never so stark as when Oikawa dons his regalia. From the deep teal of his fur-lined cloak, clasped with chains of gold, to the glittering gemstones set into his crown, he wears finery like a second skin. Even his leather boots would fetch more money at market than your family had ever seen in their lives.

You, meanwhile, are barefoot, hair unbound, wearing a shift stained with last night’s blood. Oikawa smiles down at you with a fond sort of benevolence while you fiddle with the last of his fastenings. At one point of time, he must’ve had a servant to help him with this sort of thing.

Now, he has you, and seems all the more pleased for it.

“Are you coming back tonight?” you ask.

He catches your hands when you pull away, bringing them back to rest on his chest. “Where else would I go?”

These are, of course, his chambers.

“And… her?” you choke out, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You mean the blushing bride to be?” He laughs, the sound grating on your already fraught nerves. “You wouldn’t happen to be jealous, darling, would you?”

If he fucks her here tonight, with you in the room, you might actually vomit.

Biting down on the tip of your tongue, you force a nod. It earns another laugh from the King, “My little liar,” he croons. “How quick you are to forget the promises we made to each other.” Like a dance, he spins you to draw your back flush to his chest, turning you both to face the mirror.

The reflection paints a stark, ugly picture. Baleful eyes shadowed and drawn. Skin sapped of its healthy glow. You might’ve been a great beauty once – in the eye of certain beholders – in the King’s covetous embrace, there’s something hollow that stares back, aching and endless. A stranger plucked from the wilds.

Oikawa rests his cheek against your hair and smiles at your reflection, tugging at the top of your shift until it slips low enough to reveal the marred flesh above your breast. He hums appreciatively. “The Queen isn’t your concern. She won’t be setting foot in here.”

The finality in his tone stops you from prying deeper.

That, and the sharp double rap at the door.

A quiet curse tumbles from his mouth. For a split second, his grip tightens, the beginnings of a scowl flitting across his handsome face before he smooths it out with a huff. “Later,” he promises, dragging himself away like it pains him to do so.

Rather than leaving, though, you watch as he steps aside to allow someone else entry – a guard.

Kyoutani. Mad Dog.

Presumably nicknamed for his scowling, vicious mien and the rabidity of his temperament, of all the Royal Guard, he is definitely the last you’d pick to be alone in a room with. Somewhat darkly, you wonder if that’s the sole reason Oikawa says what he does next. “I think we’ve been a little too lax with your safety, my love. Mad Dog will be here to keep a closer eye on you for the foreseeable future.”

Honey brown eyes bear down on you, sharp and shrewd, and a chill rolls down your spine.

“Be good for him, won’t you?”

—

True to his word, she never appeared in his bedchambers; he returned alone, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed and handsy, tugging at your shift with clumsy hands and a sloppy grin before you’d fully roused.

Nothing changes – with the exception of your new guard.

Gone is any semblance of privacy. For every moment that your King does not dog your every waking breath, Kyoutani takes up watch. You cannot ignore him. You cannot relax, pinned under his stare like a rabbit in a trap. If you thought your maids were nervous before, it’s nothing to the unbridled panic the latest exudes working under the eye of the King’s loyal hound, walking on eggshells like he’s one wrong breath away from snapping her spine.

After Matsukawa and her predecessor, you’re not entirely sure she’s wrong. With the way he watches you, tracking your every move with narrowed eyes and a perpetual scowl, you’re more afraid that when he snaps – when Oikawa loosens that leash ever so slightly – it’ll be your neck that finds its way between his salivating jaws. That maybe this is your end, and he’s making you face it day in, day out.

You believe Oikawa, and the oaths he made – but only to a point.

It’s why the morning they bring you eggs for breakfast and the smell sends you hurtling to the bathroom, it isn’t a sense of relief or happiness that fills you. While Oikawa rubs soothingly at your back, kissing your neck, your hair – whatever parts of you he can reach, cooing praise that goes in one ear and out the other, there’s an edge of hysteria that winds its way through your chest and constricts util it feels like you’ll choke under the pressure of it all.

In your womb, a noose and a lifeline.

“I want my sisters. I want to see them.”

Breakfast long forgotten, lying in bed covered solely by the fine sheen of sweat sticking to your skin, you take his hand in yours and guide it to your stomach. It’ll be months before you show, but that doesn’t stop his eyes from flicking down, the hunger that pools at the reminder of the life that’ll grow there. Your child; his heir.

“Please, Tooru. I haven’t– it’s been months. Let me see them. Five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

His eyes return to yours, pityingly, his hand stays where it is, thumb stroking bare flesh. “My love, they won’t see you.”

He might as well have slapped you. “What? Why wouldn’t they see me? You– you promised you wouldn’t–”

“I haven’t laid a finger on them,” he assures you. “They… blame you for what happened. Your parents and brothers. Their husbands. The boys. Even if I allowed the guards to permit you entry, they’d only lash out and hurt you. I wouldn’t put you through that, not for anything.”

Rationality rebels against this. Whatever your faults and missteps, you never asked for the King’s attention, you wouldn’t have tried to run if you’d known the cost. He did this, not you. But rationality gets lost entirely, drowned beneath the wave of grief that sweeps you up. It coils around you and sinks down into your bones. Grief becomes the air you breathe, the blood in your veins. It’s agony and heartbreak and the first sob that leaves you feels like it’s cleaving you in two.

They blame you.

You don’t fight him, not anymore. You sit pretty and spread your legs, let him fill you with rot over and over and over again, all to keep the King’s ire from touching them further.

They live and breathe at your behest while you’ve become a broodmare, and they hate you for it.

The cracks within grow wide and deep.

Still cradling your belly, the King laments, “I’m sorry, my love. I’d have kept you from that knowledge if I could.”

If, if, if–

—

Your breasts swell and grow tender, your middle fills out.

A simple gold band on the King’s left hand marks their marriage, but within the walls of your gilded cage, the new Queen does not exist. Beyond them, you don’t.

She breaks that tentative impasse only once.

The day itself is unremarkable. The King left hours ago, you’re on the chaise, trying, as per usual, to ignore Kyoutani’s overbearing presence with your drawing book when you hear the muffled conversation filtering through the door.

At first, you pay it no mind. While your maid is usually the only one permitted access, servants come and go throughout the day, the guards change rotation, every so often this Lord or that Lord will come seeking the ear of the King. None of them gain entry, and so you’ve learned to mostly tune the noise out.

But the voices get louder, distractingly so.

You recognise Makki’s, the other’s foreign to you. Female, you can discern that much, and with each passing exchange, her soft, dulcet tone morphs into something sharp and shrill.

From the corner of your eye, you spy Mad Dog stiffening, a clenching of his jaw. Without necessarily meaning to, you abandon the quill pen, folding your half-finished sketch shut, one hand drifting to flutter nervously over your stomach.

“– hiding his pet whore! Let me in, or so help me–”

The door thumps violently, rattling the lock and you jump with it. A snarl tears through the chamber – not from Makki or the Queen, but Kyoutani, eyes ablaze, who stalks towards you, seizes you by your arm and hauls you to your feet roughly.

For months he’s prowled on the edge of an invisible barrier he’s erected around you. He smashes through it now without care, calloused fingers digging in through the cotton of your dress while you stumble behind him, struggling to keep up with his long, angry strides.

“In the bedroom. Now,” he growls, as though you aren’t already at the door.

You expect him to toss you inside and slam the door shut behind you, with him on the other side. He doesn’t. He drags you to the huge bed, pushing you – almost gently – back onto the mattress and stomps to stand guard by its foot without so much as a word of explanation. The door swings closed of its own accord, but not before you catch the screeching wail that cuts off with another loud thump.

The silence grows heavy after that.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d entertained the possibility that whatever it was Oikawa was plotting with you and her, the Queen was in on it. Content enough with her crown not to care where her husband buried his cock each night or that her own bed remained cold and empty.

She, after all, would remain once your part in this was done.

But even if she was just a simple fool, tossed into this game at the whims of the men in her life, you imagined she’d be untouchable. Protected in a way you’d never been afforded.

If the Queen – pretty idiot, scheming bitch – is not safe from the King’s violence, what hope is there for you?

Your eyes drift to the sword on Mad Dog’s hip, and you do a very good job of pretending that when your hands curl around your stomach, they aren’t shaking, that the lie doesn’t taste bitter on your tongue when you whisper, “It’s okay, little one. We’re gonna be okay.”

When the King returns shortly thereafter, he doesn’t utter a word about the incident. Dismissing Kyoutani with a flick of his wrist, he cups your cheeks in warm, tender palms, marvelling at the tears that shine there as though he isn’t perfectly aware he’s their cause.

“Give me a son,” he says lowly, a secret just for the two of you, “and I promise we’ll only have to go through this once more.”

—

You know it before the first contraction, before your water breaks, soaking the sheets beneath.

The physician’s called, your maid pulled from her rest to attend you as the King refuses to allow any more eyes into the room. For hours, you wait out your contractions, breathing through the pain while the King paces and the physician flits between examining you and whispering in his ear.

Eventually, though, he rises from your bedside and nods at the King.

“Makki, fetch the Queen. Iwaizumi, too,” he orders. To you, he says, “She’s had such a difficult pregnancy, can hardly get out of bed these days, the poor thing. She deserves to be here for the birth of her child, don’t you think?”

Your chin bobs in agreement, too terrified to speak.

Within minutes the door to the chambers opens again, the Lord Chancellor stepping through, followed by Makki with the Queen in tow.

Mortification stirs within your chest at the sight of the King’s right hand, and you’re quick to divert your gaze to the Queen instead. She stands behind Hanamaki, pallid and thin – certainly not pregnant – and she might have been beautiful, had her expression not been pinched in a sneer.

A whining cunt, Oikawa had said. But no amount of imperiousness can hide the nervous way her eyes dart between you, the King, and the gathered guards.

“Your Grace,” she utters stiffly.

She isn’t wearing a crown. No jewels or pretty dresses. Her hair’s loosely braided and she wears a shift dress not dissimilar to your own. Hardly the picture of royalty.

What strikes you, though, is that she looks passably similar to you.

“Kneel.”

Another contraction hits, stealing your attention. You squeeze your eyes shut and suck in a breath through clenched teeth, waiting for the rippling pain to abate.

“Don’t look at her,” Oikawa drawls. “Kneel.”

When your eyes flutter open again, the Queen’s on her knees, the edge of Makki’s blade resting upon her shoulder. Your heart lurches.

You don’t understand what’s happening, why they’re here, but the panic rising up inside of you threatens to sweep you away and you cannot help the tears that spring to your eyes or the lump that forms in your throat. Your mother should be here. Your sisters. They’d help you through this, guide you with steady hands and keep you calm – but your mother burned with your home, and your sisters, who despise you anyway, now traitors to the Crown.

The bed’s been turned to give you the smallest semblance of privacy, but there’s no escaping the prying eyes across the room. In a room full of voyeurs, you’ve never been more alone. More terrified. You don’t want to give birth in front of them. You don’t want your children taken from you.

You don’t want to die like this, an animal on display.

“Tooru–” you gasp, curling in on yourself as another contraction hits.

He’s at your side in an instant, hand in yours, the other stroking your hair. He shushes you gently as the physician peers between your legs and tells you that it’s time to push.

—

There’s no more proof needed of the divine right of kings than in the two healthy baby boys the physician presents to Oikawa.

An heir and a spare.

The Queen still kneels on the ground at Makki’s feet. Your maid’s fussing with sheets, Iwaizumi and Kyoutani surveying from the corner, straight backed. Alert. Waiting.

Every eye but the Queen’s is fixed on Oikawa and his sons.

“Can… Can I hold them? Please?”

You’ll beg if you have to. Those boys are yours. He can kill you now, throw you in the dungeons below with your sisters – he can erase you from the story entirely, but those two perfect boys belong to you, and you’ll haunt him to the grave if he robs you of the chance to kiss them goodbye.

As though the entire room isn’t holding their breath, dangling on the edge of a knife, Oikawa returns to your side, carefully laying the two swaddled bundles in your arms, and presses a kiss to your trembling lips. “My perfect, perfect girl,” he marvels, smoothing your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “You did so well. Better than I could’ve possibly hoped.”

One of the babies yawns, squirming into the warmth of your chest, the other blinks curiously at you, his tiny brown eyes a mirror image of his father’s. They’ll need to be fed soon.

Rather than snatching them back as you fear, the King eases down onto the bed beside you, careful as to not disturb either Prince, and tucks you into his side. Unable to hold it back any longer, a sob wrenches its way free, and Oikawa sighs with such exasperated fondness that it breaks you a little more.

“Iwa, she’s crying.”

The Lord Chancellor grunts in agreement. “You seem to have that effect.”

Oikawa laughs, the tip of his finger running down his son’s nose. “Women die in childbirth every day. It’s a small miracle, my love,” his lips brush your cheek, nuzzling close, “that you were spared that, especially with twins. The Queen wasn’t so fortunate.”

At first, you think he’s referring to his own mother – it’s common knowledge that there were complications when she delivered the King’s younger brother and neither survived – until you catch a glint of steel from the corner of your eye. On instinct, you turn to follow it, and witness the exact moment the Queen’s head is cleaved from her body and tumbles to the floor.

Her body – kneeling in forced supplication, blood spurting from her still pumping heart – hangs there for a moment, as if waiting for the shock to register, for everyone to drink their fill of the grisly scene, before it too topples to the ground.

An echo, playing out for you once more.

Your maid screams, Kyoutani darting to wrench her back before she can flee. The physician pales. Startled by the sudden noise and the commotion in the room, two near identical wails break within moments of each other, your sons making their displeasure known, wriggling about and crying in your arms. You draw them closer, eyes wide, trembling like a leaf, to press a kiss against both their foreheads as you choke back a sob of your own.

“And the woman?” Iwa asks.

Oikawa, head on your shoulder, utterly absorbed in his children’s outbursts, doesn’t even bother looking up. He waves his fingers in front of their little faces and coos when they scrunch up in response.

“We’ll need someone to clean up the blood. Take her tongue instead.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa #yandere oikawa tooru x reader #yandere oikawa tooru #tw: noncon

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cherryite · 8 days ago

Text

and they were roommates...

summary. being roommates with your friend (and longtime crush) mark isn't all its cracked up to be (w.c 2.1k)

content. fem!reader x mark grayson, roommate!reader, friends to lovers, slight idiots in love

warnings. MDNI!!!!, smut, mark... lowkey creeping but kinda not his fault, masturbation, voyeurism?, mark is jorking it rip, not proofread lol

author's note. hi so this is insane that i just wrote this but it was driving me crazy so i did it anyway.... have fun!! (i'm also aware viltrumites don't technically have crazy good hearing but have u seen how those fuckers act in the show.... like how did they hear that shit...)

All you wanted was a moment to yourself. A little release.

Having a roommate who can hear a pin drop doesn’t help with this predicament. It especially doesn’t help that that person is Mark. So the fact that Mark has been gone on a mission off-planet for two days gives you the perfect window to release it.

Your room is dim, the only light coming from the fairy lights strung across your walls and the amber glow of your bedside lamp. A slow, sultry track plays from the speaker, the music wrapping around your thoughts like smoke. You stare up at the ceiling, your face blank and your jaw tight.

You groan, your hands coming up to cover your face, dragging them down as your mind spins. It’s not just stress, it's a deep ache within you. One that's been cooking in your stomach for weeks, constantly being ignored or pushed down until it was just a dull throb between your legs.

Sighing, you grumble to yourself, dragging your hand down to the waistband of your flimsy sleep shorts. You have been practically unable to get off since moving in with Mark. It felt entirely not cool for you to finger fuck yourself when he was a room over, able to hear everything. Barely ten feet across the hall.

Especially not when the thoughts in your head, the ones that get you closest, almost always end up looking like him. Kind, awkward, stupidly strong, with that boyish voice and a stupid habit of acting like he doesn’t know how good looking he is. You could never tell him that though, your brain makes up terrible scenarios about what would happen if you actually confessed to being helplessly in love with him. Because what if he teased you? Or looked at you weird? Not that Mark would ever do that, you know that, he’s too sweet, too polite… too Mark.

“I’m so pathetic,” you mumble to yourself as you slide your hands below the waistband of your shorts. But the deep need outweighs any guilt and your eyes flutter shut, your breath slows.

You find yourself thinking about his voice. You think about the way he leans in when he’s tired and forgets to keep his distance, his breath fanning over your face. You think about the heat of his body when he brushes past you in the kitchen. You think about the way he says your name when he’s laughing. And the way he’s sound if he wasn’t.

Mark wearily opens the door to the apartment, his suit tattered, covered in bruises and cuts. Every muscle in his body is screaming in protest as he closes it behind him. He winces, reminding himself the next time Cecil wants him to go do something in space to decline. It’s late, the darkness outside flooding over all the surfaces of the apartment.

Mark notices your shoes by the front door. You must be home.

He silently shuts the front door, hovering a bit over the ground, just in case his footsteps woke you up. He can’t help his mind drifting to you, his chest squeezing as he runs a hand through his hair. He can daydream later. Currently, he needs ice and silence, and maybe a new spine.

The hallway is dark around him, save for the tiny amount of light that seeps through the crack in the bottom of your door. Mark floats his way down the hallway, about to just simply pass your door then his ears pick up noises from your room. He typically tries not to eavesdrop on you. Whenever you’re on the phone with a friend, he’s busy turning up the volume on his headphones to the max, stuff like that. But he does pick up a soft, choked breath mixed in amongst your music.

He freezes, his body stilling instantly as he furrows his brows. His ears pick up a rustle of sheets, a faunt creak of a spring in your mattress both typical bed noices. What he hears next is not typical.

A whimper, slightly muffled. It’s faint, soft, and it immediately makes his skin prickle. Heat immediately climbs up his neck, his ears growing hot. He steadies himself on the wall next to your door, attempting to control his breathing, as if even a breath could give him away.

He knows he shouldn’t linger, he knows he shouldn’t. He knows he should just go to his room and blast white noise in his ears until his brain is mush. But his stomach twists as he can hear the wet slap of the intrusion of your fingers, pumping in and out of you steadily. He really should go now, but he’s frozen. His hand moving to cover his mouth, muffling his own voice and the sounds that threaten to pull themselves from his throat. His free hand presses to his eyes, pressing hard into the bone of his brow, trying to free himself from the mind control that's possessing him right now.

He should leave. But the noises you're making continue to penetrate his ears. Subtle but unmistakable, a distinct sound that's steady, rhythmic. The slick slide of fingers moving through arousal.

And then he hears it.

It’s breathy, he almost thinks he hallucinated it before he hears it again.

“Mark.”

A soft gasp, completely unguarded and raw. His name, moaned from your lips, softly in the dark. He can feel himself unraveling and his knees nearly give out.

His hand drifts downward before he even realizes it, gripping his semi-hard cock through the material of his tattered suit. The contact is sharp, jarring, and it sends a shiver of heat down his spine. His breathing is ragged now, chest rising and falling far too fast. He’s being too loud, as he stares at your door like it’s the only thing tethering him to this life. He squeezes his hard on, rubbing himself through the fabric as his ears pick up another moan that drops from your lips.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. It’s sick. It’s invasive. But he can’t bring himself to stop. Not when you’re on the other side of that door, touching yourself and saying his name. Mark feels like he’s burning alive with every small breath that puffs out of your lips.

He hears another noise. This one is higher, needier, and it sucks all the air from his lungs. His body shudders against your door frame as his free hand clenches the waistband of his pants, his other hand still stroking himself through the fabric, pressure building fast as he speeds up his motions. He’s never heard anything like this before. Never felt anything like this before. The sounds you're making, the sound of how wet you are echoing in his ears.

It’s like something has him under a spell. He can’t leave. He can’t even breathe.

The sounds get louder, more desperate, closer to the edge. He can hear your head fall back against your pillow, the sloppy sound of your wet pussy as you plunge your fingers into yourself. He can nearly hear the sound of your walls suctioning your fingers back in and it makes his stomach curl. He can hear your quiet whimpers, softing muttering to yourself, his name mixing with desperate whines. With that, his world shrinks to the thin sliver of light beneath your door, his eyes focusing on the light at his feet.

The tempo of your breathing shifts. And when he hears another breathy, gasping moan; high, sweet, needy, he nearly cums right then. The sound of your fingers moving inside of yourself is steady, wet, rhythmically obscene. He actually groans behind his hand which flies up to cover his mouth, his head nearly thunking gently against your bedroom door.

His forehead falls against the door mutely, mouth open, panting quietly as he can, like he’s not getting enough oxygen. His hips jerk forward into his hand, he doesn’t even notice how he’s grinding against the door, how his fingers are gripping himself tight, how dizzy he feels as his cock twitches beneath the material.

He’s never going to forget this, he realizes as he finally grabs his cock in his hand. The way you sound. The way you say his name. The way he feels right now, feverish and completely undone. He’s so close, the way his gut twists and the way his hand is barely in control as he jerks himself sends his mind blank and reeling.

Another breathy moan breaks the air and Mark loses the last thread of control. He bites down on his hand to prevent himself from making noise, his eyes half-lidded as his release nears its end. His hand moves faster, squeezing himself with no mercy, jerking himself with deep seeded need as his cock spurts cum all over the front of his suit. Jerking himself a few more times, his mind clears. Staring down at the mess he’s made of himself, his body still thrumming with need, he shakily backs up from your door, silently slipping into his own room to contemplate what he’s done.

Mark stands in the kitchen, sloveling some sugary cereal into his mouth. It’s early, sunlight filtering through the windows, basking the kitchen in a golden glow. He leans against the counter, already halfway through the bowl of cereal, his hair damp from a shower and sticking slightly to his forehead. He hasn’t slept. Not really. A couple of hours of half consciousness, his brain too wired and guilty to fully allow sleep to wash over him. He just keeps chewing, his mind too preoccupied to think about anything else, jaw clenched.

He heard his name.

Heard it. From your mouth. Soft and broken and drenched with pleasure. Pure ecstasy.

And now here he is, eating cereal like nothing happened. Like he didn’t spend at least 30 full minutes last night with his hand down his pants and his heart in his throat as he thought of you.

He startles at the sound of your door opening, milk from his cereal dripping out of the corner of his mouth.

You step into the kitchen tiredly, still half-dressed in your pajamas, a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts that barely cover anything. He can't help the way his breath catches in his throat. He keeps his eyes on the floor in front of him, shoveling another spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

“You’re back,” you say, voice still raspy with sleep, a smile on your face. “When’d you get in?”

Mark doesn’t look up, trying to calm his racing heart. “Late. You were already asleep.”

You nod, moving toward the cabinet to grab a mug. “I left my music on last night, I hope it didn’t keep you up. I didn’t think you’d be home until tonight.”

Mark lets out a weak, almost hysterical little laugh before coughing to cover it, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “It didn’t bother me.”

You pour yourself some coffee, standing beside him like everything is normal, like your bare thigh isn’t brushing his. He tenses at the contact, his heart beating against his ribcage.

“I missed you,” you say, casual but soft, looking up at him through the steam that wafts from your cup. “Glad you’re okay.”

Mark finally brings himself to look at you, and for one breathless moment, he thinks you know. That you can see it on him, feel the tension in his shoulders, the heat radiating off him. But your expression is open, sweet, oblivious.

And that makes it worse. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest.

“I missed you too,” he says, and he means it. After last night, he realized how much he missed you when you weren’t near. How he missed your laugh when he did something totally nerdy. How you were always so attentive when he was rambling about comics. How your lips would curl when you saw him. He unfortunately, could deny it no longer; he had a huge crush on you and last night had only made it worse.

You smile at him, eyes warm and slightly sleepy. Mark turns back to his bowl of cereal and focuses on them as they bob around in the milk like they hold the secret to how to deal with these feelings. Anything to keep from looking at you too long. Anything to stop his brain from replaying those sounds, those words.

He’ll tell you eventually, but for now, he keeps your sounds to himself. Locked away in his brain, bound to torture his dreams for a long time.

#invincible #mark grayson #invincible x reader #invincible x you #invincible fanfic #invincible smut #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson smut #invincible show #invincible mark grayson #smut #fem reader #my writing!!

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beloveds-embrace · 4 months ago

Note

I'm sorry, but I'm a big angst lover and i just read the angsty spinoffs of the duchess au. Kinda combining the general Jonny-purposefully-fucks-up-the-food, and the duchess gettin sick Can i ask what would happen if the illness wasn't from the weather but from eating raw food (ex chicken). Assuming she lives, i doubt she will touch Johnny's food again - leaving price with the option of hiring duchess reader a new chef or letting her starve and hope she relents. Anyways, i just wanted to say i love your poly 141 fics, so if you don't feel like writing this ask, it's completely fine. Thank you for all your work in writing!

Thank you sm anon!! 💕🫶🏻

Dukedom masterlist

All I can think about is the abysmal shame Johnny would be feeling. Yes, he served you bad food on purpose but fuck- flat out raw? And in that time period it might as well nearly be a death sentence on its own and they all know it.

John sits at your bedside, his face carved with an unreadable expression. Guilt flickers in his eyes, barely veiled by his usual stoicism, though he says nothing at first. He’s been here for hours, watching over you, but you’ve hardly acknowledged him.

A tray of food rests untouched on the small table near the bed. You haven’t looked at it, haven’t even turned your head in its direction even when it was brought in steaming, and the silence stretches thin and sharp between you.

“Duchess,” John finally says, his voice a low sigh. “You’ve got to eat. You won’t recover if you don’t.”

You shift your gaze to him, dull and tired. For a long moment, you just stare, your chest rising and falling with the effort of breathing. When you finally speak, your voice is hoarse, almost as numb as you feel.

“I’m not eating anything from Johnny.”

The bluntness of your words lands like a physical blow. John straightens slightly, brows furrowing.

“You don’t mean that,” he starts, his tone more defensive than he intends. “He-“

You interrupt him, your voice cutting through the air like a blade.

“He served me raw food, John. And none of you noticed. None of you cared.” Your tone is flat, devoid of anger or venom, but it’s the emptiness behind it that makes his chest tighten. “I got sick because of him, and not one of you thought to check on me until I couldn’t get out of bed.”

He opens his mouth to argue, to defend, but the words die before they reach his tongue. Because you’re right, of course.

“I won’t eat anything from him, not anymore,” you repeat, your gaze falling away from him and back to the ceiling. “Or from the chefs in this manor. I don’t trust any of you to care enough to make sure I’m not poisoned again.”

“Poisoned- ?” John recoils slightly, faltering.

You let out a bitter, hollow laugh, the sound scraping against your raw throat painfully. “What else would you call it? Carelessness? Neglect?”

The silence that follows is suffocating, just as you’d hoped it’d be. John leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his jaw, guilt now a tangible weight pressing down on him. He knows you’re justified- knows that your trust, fragile as it was, has been shattered by their collective apathy.

“I’ll… I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he mutters eventually, the words heavy with shame. “I’ll handle your meals myself if that’s what it takes.”

You don’t respond beyond a derisive huff, don’t even spare him a glance. You’re too tired. His promises feel like empty air now, incapable of undoing the hurt and mistrust that has settled deep in your bones and now landed you sick in this cold bed.

All you can do is close your eyes, shutting him out, and hope he gets the message.

Johnny stands just outside the cracked door, his back pressed against the wall as your words seep into the hallway like a cold wind. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop- at least, that’s what he tells himself- but when he heard John’s voice through the door, something made him pause.

And now he wishes he hadn’t.

Every word cuts deeper than he thought possible. The way you said his name- not with anger, but with the hollow finality of someone who has already given up- makes his stomach churn. You don’t trust him.

He can’t even blame you. He made- a terrible mistake. An unforgivable one. His parents would likely never forgive him if they ever heard of what he’d done.

His hands tremble at his sides, fingers curling into fists. He wants to step in, to apologize, to defend himself, to say it was a mistake- a terrible mistake he regrets more than anything. But what could he possibly say to undo the damage? Nothing.

The knot of guilt in his chest tightens as he hears John try to reassure you, his own voice betraying his shame. Johnny doesn’t wait to hear more. He turns and walks away, each step feeling heavier than the last, his heart pounding with the weight of what he’s done.

How is he meant to ever find pride again in what he does best?

#noona.asks #noona.writes #cod x you #cod x reader #cod #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 x you #tf 141 #cod imagines #poly!141 x you #poly 141 x you #poly!141 x reader #poly 141 x reader

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fastandcarlos · 7 months ago

Text

Friends With Benefits : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you're so used to playing your games with lando, but when a chance at loves come your way, are you both ready to call it quits?

Your hands rested over your face as you rolled off of Lando, laying beside him, staring up at the ceiling of his plush apartment. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the wide smile on his face, his chest heaving as he tried his best to catch his breath again.

You reached across and took your phone, scrolling through what you had missed. Your notifications were pretty empty with the exception of one, groaning as you read through the message of a new contact you’d added, feeling guilt smack you in the face.

The noise you made had Lando glancing across at you, eyes studying you closely. You didn’t look happy after sleeping with him like you usually did, instead, you almost looked as if you were regretting it.

“Everything good?” Lando asked you, turning to lay on his side, smiling weakly across at you.

“Yeah, I’m all good,” you replied, your voice faltering. You turned your phone off, promising to make sure that you replied later on, tossing it onto the nightstand beside you.

As you and Lando laid in silence, your mind was still racing a thousand miles. You couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that you had, having recently found yourself striking up a close friendship, or so you thought, with someone new, you weren’t sure if Lando was still the one for you anymore.

After a few minutes, you turned onto your side so that you were facing Lando too, tucking your hand underneath your pillow as Lando’s eyes landed on you too.

“How long do you see this being your future? Before you settle down?”

Lando’s shoulders shrugged in reply to you. “I’ve never really thought about it, I don’t exactly see myself settling down anytime soon. I’m just enjoying having fun. You?”

“I mean, it would be nice to settle down at some point.”

Lando’s lips pursed together, slightly taken aback by your response. He was sure that you enjoyed spending time with him as much as he did you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

“What are you trying to say?”

It had always meant nothing with Lando, and that was the way that you liked it. But now someone else had shown interest, someone who had the potential to be a bit more serious, you needed to weigh up which direction you wanted to take yourself in.

“Is there someone who makes you want to settle down?”

“Why’d you ask Lan?”

“Because you’re different,” he noted, “you wouldn’t usually ask me something like this.”

Your smile was weak, you were supposed to be happy but with the way that Lando looked at you, you couldn’t be enthusiastic. You were sure you’d shut things down with Lando with ease, but his eyes stared at you with sadness, almost making you feel guilty.

“I’d never make you do this if you didn’t want to.”

“I’ve always wanted to do this Lando,” you assured him, “why else do you still think I come every time that you call? I don’t know what it is that I want, I enjoy this, whatever this is but at the same time there’s a guy that I met. We only met a couple of weeks ago, but it just feels different, it’s more a date kind of thing, it’s not all about the sex.”

“Is he the only guy for you?” Lando asked you, his voice much quieter than it was before. “I mean if you want to settle down, is he the only guy you could see yourself doing it with?”

Your shoulders shrugged, you simply didn’t have the answer that Lando was looking for. You’d never really thought about Lando before, after all the two of you agreed to cut off any emotions when you agreed to your deal, but now he had your heart asking all sorts of questions.

“You just told me you didn’t want to settle down,” you sighed, “that kind of tells me that the two of us just want different things moving forwards Lando.”

“I’d make an exception though.”

Your eyes flickered up, it didn’t take a genius to know exactly who Lando was talking about, all he knew was that he couldn’t lose you.

“How can I trust that you really mean that? How do I trust that you’re not just saying that because you’re scared you’re going to lose the person you go to every time you want sex?”

“Because otherwise I’d just let you go and walk out of that door now.”

You went to speak, but quickly stopped, your mind foggy with thoughts. It was the easy choice to just go, but you didn’t always want to just take the easy choice in life.

“I’m not going to force you to stay.”

Your eyes closed as you tried your best to gather your thoughts. “I don’t know what I want right now Lando, I never thought that you would actually want me to stay.”

He surprised himself by how much he wanted you there, Lando had never anticipated quite how big of a role you would play in his life, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without you there.

“I know we would be good together, scrap that, I think we would be absolutely electric together.”

“It’s not as easy as just sleeping together though Lando.”

His head nodded, knowing exactly what he was getting himself into entering into a relationship with you, confident though that he could absolutely do it.

“I know, but that’s all part of the fun figuring it out, right?”

Lando brought his hand up, brushing it against the side of your face before cupping against your cheek, his touch more delicate than it ever had been before. Your eyes didn’t know where to look as Lando pulled you closer towards him, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s not as easy as this Lan, there’s someone else involved here too. This guy is nice, he makes me feel as if I’m safe, I can’t remember the last time that I actually felt that way.”

“Who would you want to lose though? Me or him?”

It was the question that you didn’t want, at the start of the night your mind was made up, but now you found yourself leaning in the complete other direction, a direction you never actually managed yourself going in.

“Admit it, this has always felt special.”

“It’s felt special because of what we do, we barely talk Lando, you could probably barely tell me a single fact about myself, could you?”

“But I want to learn and find out more,” he argued, “I want to know all those little details about you, I want to talk to you about stupid things because that’s what proper couples do.”

“Do you really mean that Lando?”

His head nodded in reply straight away. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. Just give me one chance to show you how serious I am, if I fail, then I’ll let you go.”

Lando’s eyes looked pleadingly at you, letting go of a shaky breath as your head nodded, trusting that your instincts would serve you well.

As much as the other guy made you smile, you couldn’t ignore the way that Lando made you feel, the excitement you had racing through your body every time you were in his company.

“Let’s go out tomorrow, my treat,” Lando suggested, “let me show you how serious I am and we can go on a date, get to know each other properly.”

“That would be good,” you whispered, “but you know I’ve got high expectations.”

“Don’t worry, I promise to live up to them.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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auroralwriting · 11 months ago

Text

clean 1

tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader (no use of y/n)

after the fight with john walker, you can tell bucky's arm was bothering him. so, you make a trip to see him.

word count: 1.6k | warnings: strong language, multiple parts, part two

Your suit was practically scarp metal after the fight with John Walker. He had tried his hardest to absolutely obliterate your suit. Thankfully, Tony had done a great job of designing it. With a few hours of repairs, it would be good as new.

The one thing you worried about was Bucky's arm, specifically the metal one. You saw how Walker had thrown Bucky across the room into wiring, causing it to shock Bucky's whole body. It made you uneasy to think about wether or wether not the arm was in tact, that and the fact that if it wasn't, it could very well lead to a lot of pain for Bucky.

So, using Friday, you found Bucky's new address. He'd taken residence in a small apartment in Brooklyn, thankfully, not too far from where you were reclaiming the Stark Tower. One car ride later, and you stood outside Bucky's apartment feeling more nervous than you thought you would be.

While Bucky and you weren't on bad terms, it was fair to say he was still uneasy around you. I mean, he had killed your parents, and your only living relative (minus the small Morgan) was also dead. You'd been a baby when The Winter Soldier killed Howard and Maria, so how could there be any bad blood between you and Bucky? You didn't even know what you had lost. That and you were more down-to-earth than Tony, realizing quickly the guilt and shame Bucky felt for his mind-controlled actions.

Using up the last bit of confidence you had, you knocked on Bucky's door. It took less than a minute, and Bucky's surprised face was staring back at you.

"Uhm, hi," You said awkwardly.

"How'd you know where I live?" Bucky asked, confused.

You held up your phone, Friday's screen appearing. "Just a quick scan of all James Buchanan Barnes in the area. Not very many," Your joke fell flat as you stood awkwardly while Bucky processed what was happening.

"Why're you here?" He asked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay after the fight with Walker." You replied. "I saw you get thrown into all those wires, I saw all the sparks."

Bucky gave a small shrug, "I'm alright."

You eyed his arm suspiciously, "That arm causing you any pain?"

Both eyes now fell on Bucky's arm. You looked back up to Bucky to see him staring at it still. "It's been better," He sighed, his reply honest.

"I can fix it if you'd like?" You suggested. Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head at your words, "Or not!" You quickly added. "I, uh, don't want to make you feel weird..er than you probably already do."

Bucky went to move his arm, and you saw the traces of pain etched into his features. "It'll be alright."

"Our fight isn't over yet, Bucky." You argued. "You should be at your best." You took a deep breath in, finding more confidence from deep within, "I promise I won't judge you if that's what you're worried about. I mean, Tony literally had a hunk of metal plunged in his chest, and he made me clean it out all the time, it was really gross and-"

"Alright, alright," Bucky held his hands up. "I don't wanna hear about Tony's gross chest-hole. Just, come on in." The door opened all the way as Bucky walked inside. You trailed behind, slowly shutting the door behind you as you observed the apartment. It was really empty, just a small couch and a coffee table in front of it. The kitchen looked rather bare, too.

You took a seat on the couch, Bucky sitting next to you. You set your toolbox down in between the both of you, putting some space between your bodies.

"I need to see the connection point, if you don't mind?" You said softly, looking to Bucky's covered shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, yeah," He muttered as he hesitantly slipped off his shirt. You quickly noticed the healing scars on his shoulder, all around the joint, but you made sure to pay no attention to them as you hovered your hand over his arm. "It's fine," He said, watching your hesitantcy.

The metal was cool on your hands as you felt around it, looking for the weak point. Once you found it, you grabbed your tools and began to work at it. You weren't used to working in silence, so you tried to make some conversation.

"Steve, uh, used to tell me a lot about you." You said. Bucky raised a brow at you as you continued. "You were his knight in shining armor, or something of the sorts."

"I guess I was," Bucky gave the smallest hint of a smile. "How'd you learn how to do this anyways?"

You shrugged as you grabbed a new tool, "Tony taught me everything I know. Engineering, chemistry, physics, you name it."

"It must've been hard, just you two." Bucky said softly.

Looking up, you shook your head, "Don't start that," You said.

"But it's my fault-"

"For the last time, Bucky, that was the Winter Soldier, not you. I do not blame you, there's no reason to keep hurting yourself over this." You cut Buck off, voice slightly sharp with intention. Bucky's eyes fell on the other side of the room as you sighed, "Tony would have forgiven you, too. He just needed time."

Bucky scoffed, "He had five years."

"Of which we were gone," You countered. "I forgive you for him and myself, okay?"

“Don’t say that,” Bucky shook his head. “Just.. don’t?”

You set down your tool, staring at him. “Do you want proof?”

This gained Bucky’s interest, “Proof?” He asked, voice laced with doubt. “What proof?”

“Who do you think protected your whereabouts in Wakanda?” You asked, “Steve and Sam were on the run. Of course Tony knew you were there. I remember when he got the call. He just sat there for a while, thinking. When we talked about it, he said he was glad you were getting help.”

“What else did he say?” Bucky said with a knowing look in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s Tony, Buck. He says anything and everything and means almost none of it.” Bucky didn’t expect you to use his nickname. He liked the sound of it coming from your voice.

“That doesn’t mean he forgave me.” Bucky said.

“Well I do, okay? So stop being such a grump. I’m trying to be your friend, just let me, would you?” You sighed as you began to work on his arm again.

The soldier gave a small sigh, “Stop wasting your time on me when you have a company to run.”

“Stop trying to push me away. Also, Pepper’s helping me run it, so I have all the time in the world.” You argued.

After a brief moment of silence, Bucky spoke again. “I’m still not sure I’m safe to be around,”

The honesty surprised you, making you glance up at him to observe his face. “I’m literally face to face with your arm, tool inside it, and you wanna say you aren’t safe?”

Your comment made Bucky give a small chuckle, “That’s not really what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” You asked.

Bucky gave a shaky breath, “In Madripoor, when I had to take down those guys when I was pretending to be.. him,” Bucky explained, “It’s like I could still feel him trying to break free.”

You set a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, making sure to avoid his scars. “Bucky, Wankanda said you’re a free man. The Winter Soldier’s gone.”

“Maybe I’m just so used to violence now.” Bucky offered, “Maybe it’s who I am.”

“No,” You replied quickly. “You are Bucky Barnes. You’re Steve’s best friend, Sergeant Barnes. You’re Sam’s friend, my friend, and you’re a survivor. You’re one hell of a fighter, you’re a victim who pushed through all his pain and suffering to become a better man, and that’s exactly who you are.” Your words left Bucky feeling like he could cry, but he just looked away. You didn’t know whether what you said was right or wrong.

“Thank you,” Bucky muttered as you began to work on his arm again.

“It’s no problem, Bucky.” You responded. You silently worked, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Bucky’s eyes poring holes into your head.

"This world doesn't deserve you," Bucky muttered as you worked. You simply hummed in reply, making Bucky's forehead crease. "I mean it, Stark. You're one of the best people in this world."

Rolling your eyes, you put away the last of your tools. "Bucky, I'm just being a decent person."

Bucky's eyes burned with a new passion, "No decent person would do all you've done for everyone you've ever come across." Before you could protest, Bucky's metal hand grabbed your chin softly. "Don't even try to argue, I know it can be hard for a Stark but can you hold your tongue?" When you didn't reply, Bucky continued. "You're so humble, so fuckin' sweet. I mean, you came all this way just to fix my arm."

"And to check on you," Your voice came out babbled as Bucky's hold on your chin was still present.

"I don't deserve your kindness," Bucky admitted, "But here you are, giving me all of it." His eyes bore into your own, his own actions betraying his mind as he slammed his lips tightly onto your own. It took you by surprise, but you happily returned the heated kiss as Bucky's hand slithered behind your neck.

"You deserve all of it, the whole world," You mumbled as you pulled away breathlessly. "The world did you dirty, and I'll be the one to wash you of it." With your words, Bucky felt his eyes water as he kissed you passionately again.

Once you pulled apart, Bucky wiped your lips with his thumb, a small smile on his lips. "Does that mean you're gonna stick around?"

"Yeah," you giggled, "I think it does."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier #sebastian stan x reader

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kysstar · 27 days ago

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WHERE IT HURTS | KIM HONGJOONG (requested 💕)

pairing : : kim hongjoong x fem!reader

synopsis : : after a late-night argument, things go quiet between you and hongjoong. he thinks everything’s fine—but small changes say otherwise.

genre : : angst, hurt-comfort

warnings : : none.

word count : : 2.2k

—The clock’s red digits glared 1:37 AM, casting a dull glow over the apartment. The only sound was the faint hum of Hongjoong’s laptop fan and the clack of his keyboard. You stood in the doorway to his studio, arms crossed loosely, watching him with quiet concern. His shoulders were hunched, the tension in his back visible even from where you stood. His brows were pinched, lip caught between his teeth—he was deep in it again. Music, deadlines, concepts, endless revisions. The new comeback was eating him alive.

"Joong," you said softly, not wanting to startle him. He didn’t look up. “Did you eat anything today?”

Silence.

You stepped closer. “I made some rice earlier. There’s soup too, it’s still warm—”

“I said I’m busy.” His voice was sharp, quick, like a door slamming shut.

You flinched. “I know, I just… I thought you might want to take a break. Just ten minutes. You haven’t left that chair in hours—”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do,” he snapped, finally spinning around to face you. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression worn thin. “You think I don’t know how to take care of myself?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you said quietly.

“Then stop hovering. God, it’s like you think I’m helpless or something.”

You blinked. The words hit harder than they should’ve. “I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah? Well, help by leaving me alone.”

That one landed like a punch. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. You weren't good at fights—not the ugly kind, not when someone you loved looked at you like you were in the way. You felt yourself retreat, folding inward like paper crumpling under pressure.

You nodded once. “Okay.” Your voice was smaller than you'd meant it to be.

You walked out of the room without another word. Hongjoong didn’t look back.

You curled into your side of the bed, the sheets cool and unfamiliar without him. You stared at the wall for what felt like hours, trying not to let the sting of his words replay in your head, but it was impossible not to. You think I’m helpless. Help by leaving me alone. You didn’t cry—you just felt hollow, like something in you had been scooped out.

Eventually, without meaning to, sleep found you.

When Hongjoong stepped out of the studio, the apartment was dead quiet. The kind of quiet that made the back of his neck prickle. He rubbed his face, the pads of his fingers pressing hard against his eyes like it might squeeze the guilt out of his skull.

He hadn’t eaten. You’d been right. Of course you had. And now the untouched bowl of rice and soup sat cold on the counter, a silent reminder of how cruel he'd been. He hated how he heard his own voice replaying in his mind. He hated that it had been aimed at you.

The bedroom was dark except for the sliver of moonlight slicing through the blinds. You were already asleep, curled up small on your side of the bed, back to him. The blankets barely clung to your shoulder, and your breathing was soft, steady. You looked peaceful in the way that made his chest ache.

He climbed into bed carefully, like he didn’t want to disturb the stillness he didn’t deserve to be part of. Then he reached for you, gently, wrapping an arm around your waist. His fingers threaded over your stomach as he pulled you back against him. You didn’t stir. Not even a sigh.

He pressed his forehead to the nape of your neck and closed his eyes, letting the guilt wash over him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracked with something he wasn’t ready to name. “I didn’t mean it.”

—The soft morning light filtered through the blinds, painting gentle gold across the room. You stirred slowly, your body wrapped in warmth not entirely from the blankets. There was a weight draped over your waist—a familiar arm, heavy and secure. Your back was pressed against a chest you knew like second nature, the steady rhythm of his breathing grazing the curve of your shoulder.

You blinked at the faint light, taking a moment to register the calm. Then you shifted slightly, turning in his loose hold. Hongjoong lay beside you, eyes still shut, his features finally relaxed in sleep. The tension that had carved lines into his brow the night before had softened, replaced by a boyish stillness you hadn’t seen in days.

Instinct made your hand move, reaching to brush the hair from his face, but you caught yourself. Mid-motion, you stopped—fingers hovering just above his temple. The memory of his words from the night before came rushing back in. “Help by leaving me alone.” You let your hand fall quietly back to your side. You slipped out of bed without waking him.

The floor was cold under your feet as you padded to the bathroom. You didn’t look at yourself in the mirror too long—just enough to brush your hair and splash water on your face.

Then you moved to the kitchen in a quiet rhythm, pulling eggs from the fridge, rice from the cooker, setting pans on the stove. You weren’t even sure he’d eat. You just needed something to do. Something that made you feel a little less like your chest was filled with shattered glass.

The smell of breakfast slowly filled the apartment. You didn’t hum like you usually did. You didn’t peek down the hallway to see if he was up. You just kept moving, focused on not thinking too hard.

Footsteps finally broke the silence behind you. You didn’t turn around.

Hongjoong’s arms found your waist from behind, wrapping around you like nothing had happened. He leaned into you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. “Hey,” he said, voice still rough from sleep.

You gave a quiet, almost automatic, “Morning.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just held you there, breathing you in.

Then: “About last night…” His voice dipped lower. “I’m sorry. I was a dick. I was tired, and frustrated, and I took it out on you when all you were trying to do was care for me.” His grip around your waist tightened a little, not enough to trap, just enough to cling. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You stayed quiet. Not out of malice—just because you didn’t know what to say. You accepted his words, but they didn’t undo the way they’d settled in your chest, heavy and echoing.

“I mean it,” he added, nuzzling into your neck gently. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, gave a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “It’s okay.”

He seemed to take that as enough. He smiled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Thank you,” he murmured. Then another kiss, this time to your forehead. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You didn’t answer. You just turned the burner down and stirred the eggs, his arms still looped around your waist.

—The days after the apology fell into rhythm—routine, quiet, unspoken. Hongjoong thought things were okay. Not perfect, maybe, but better. You didn’t bring up the fight again. You didn’t ask for another apology. You cooked for him. You kissed him goodnight. You replied when he spoke, smiled when it felt expected.

But something subtle had shifted.

You didn’t lean into him when he hugged you anymore. You didn't brush his hair out of his face like you always used to. A half-second pause before holding his hand. A smile that didn’t reach your eyes. And he, so consumed by work and trying to make things smoother again, didn’t catch it right away.

It wasn’t that you were punishing him. You just… couldn’t shake the way he made you feel that night. Like loving him too much was a burden. Like your care was a nuisance. You’d swallowed it all down to keep the peace, but it hadn’t disappeared. It sat there, quietly, between your ribs.

At first, he thought it was stress. Maybe you were tired too. Maybe you just needed space. But the distance grew—not obvious, not loud, just enough. Enough to notice how you didn’t crawl into his lap while he worked anymore. How you stopped asking if he’d eaten. How your goodnight kisses landed on his cheek instead of his lips. Like you were slowly folding yourself away.

Hongjoong found you on the couch when he came home—curled up with your knees to your chest, a half-drunk cup of tea on the table, and the TV playing something you clearly weren’t watching. The sound was low, just enough to fill the silence. You looked over when he walked in, your eyes tired but your expression unreadable. You gave him a quiet smile—polite, soft, practiced.

"Hey," you said.

"Hey," he replied, but didn’t move right away. He stood there, still wearing his jacket, keys still in one hand, just staring. Something in the way you looked at him—something distant—hit him harder than he expected.

He didn’t go to the bedroom. He didn’t go to the kitchen. He walked straight to you, dropped to his knees in front of the couch, and reached for you like he wasn’t sure if he still had the right.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

You hesitated. Then, quietly, "Okay."

His hands found your legs, resting there gently, grounding himself. He looked up at you, the weight of days spent in silence finally cracking him open.

"I know I said sorry. I know I’ve been trying to make things feel normal again. But you haven’t been the same. And I think it’s because I haven’t really let you say how much it hurt."

You didn’t answer. You didn’t look away either.

"I can feel you pulling back from me. And I get it," he said, voice quiet but desperate. "I told you to leave me alone. I made you feel like you were smothering me. That your love was too much. And I hate that. I hate that the one person who was trying to take care of me... I pushed away like that."

Your eyes stung but you didn’t speak. He exhaled shakily, fingers tightening slightly on your legs. "So yell at me. Scream. Throw something. Hit me. Tell me I’m an asshole. Break my heart if you must. But don’t keep it in like this. Don’t shrink away just to keep the peace. You don’t deserve to carry that weight in silence. Not because of me."

That did it.

Your hands clenched into fists. Your throat burned. All the things you hadn’t said—because you’d been trying so hard to be quiet, to be calm, to be “understanding”—rose to the surface in one breathless wave.

"You made me feel like I was in the way," you said, your voice small, shaky. "Like I was annoying you just by caring."

"I know," he said immediately. "I know I did."

"I made you food. I checked in. I waited until it felt like the right time to speak—and you still bit my head off."

"I remember," he whispered. "And I regret every word. I hated myself the second they left my mouth."

"I felt stupid," you admitted, voice breaking. "Stupid for trying. Stupid for loving you so much that I didn’t know when to stop."

He reached up, cupped your face carefully like it might crumble in his hands. "Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You loving me like that? That’s the best thing in my life. And I made you feel like it wasn’t. That’s on me."

You bit your lip, tears spilling before you could stop them. "I didn’t know how to come back from it. I didn’t want to bring it up again because I thought… maybe it would make things worse. Maybe you’d snap again."

"I won’t," he said quickly, earnestly. "I swear to you, I won’t. I’ll listen. I’ll be there. I’ll take every hard word, every tear, every angry look—because I deserve it. And because I want to fix this the right way, not just the easy way."

You looked at him through your tears, your voice barely above a whisper. "It still hurts."

"I know. And I’ll sit with you through every second of that hurt. I’m not running. Not from you. Not ever again."

You stared at him for a long time. Then, slowly, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. He closed his eyes immediately, one hand moving to the back of your neck.

"I don’t want to fight," you whispered.

"Then don’t," he whispered back. "Just be here. That’s enough for me. You—exactly how you are—that’s enough."

He pulled you into him, and you let yourself go, finally, arms around his shoulders, face in his neck. You cried there, not from fresh pain, but from everything that had been bottled up for too long. He held you tighter with every shaky breath, whispering soft apologies, promises, truths.

"I love you," he said between kisses to your hair. "I love you so much. I’ll never stop choosing you."

When the tears passed, he pulled you gently onto the couch, wrapping the blanket around both of you. You curled into his chest, feeling his heart beating fast beneath your cheek.

"Let’s stay like this for a while," you said, voice tired but lighter.

"Forever, if you want."

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writingouthere · 1 year ago

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friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader

You go on a date with Yuuji's colleague from work and he's nice but you can't stop thinking of Sukuna, your 'friend' with benefits who has made it clear to you that the two of you are not in a relationship.

cw: possessive behavior, smut

"So then the kid and his friends tried to say that there must just be a fire somewhere."

You snort. "And what the fire just happened to smell like weed?"

You both laugh and you take another sip of your drink. It's a little milder than you usually like, but it's growing on you, kind of like your date.

His name is Yuuta and he's a teacher at the same school as Yuuji. He's cute, not much older than you and he's been polite to every member of staff you've encountered at this restaurant tonight. He teaches history to some of the older grades and it's clear he's passionate about what he does. He's spent the past half hour telling you funny stories about the kids he teaches and stories about his co-workers that have you almost choking on your drink. You've heard about a lot of the same staff members from Yuuji so they feel familiar, like you know them, even the ones you haven't actually met yet.

"Sorry, I think I've been going on for a while. I tend to ramble when I get nervous." He scratches the back of his head, the gesture self deprecating, but so charming, and you hate the guilt you feel at being charmed by it.

"I like your rambling, it's cute," you tell him and you find yourself fond of the way he blushes in response.

It's been a long time since you went on on a real date and you've missed the ritual of it. The typical questions and nerves are as banal as ever, but there were the good parts too.

The excitement of getting to know a new person, the way that over the course of the night you imagine how your life may fit with theirs. Which friends could you see them getting along with? Did he keep his apartment clean? How would he kiss you at the end of the night.

A look at his mouth had you thinking he had to be a great kisser.

"What about you? Any crazy co-workers?"

The rest of the night goes smoothly. The food is good, the drinks were lovely, he cuts himself off after his second.

Responsible. Kind. Funny.

He was everything you were looking for and yet.

And yet.

Sometimes when he laughs, you think about another man's laugh. One that's less kind, louder, and so expressive it takes over his whole face when he lets it out.

When Yuuta helps you with your coat, you can't help but imagine his face twisting up in derision at the sight.

What? Forget how to use your arms, princess?

Yuuta and you are talking about a movie you'd both seen recently and liked, and he's so perfect. But he's not yours.

"I had a great time, tonight." You both are taking the same subway home, but your stop comes up first. Your train car is empty and when Yuuta leans in to kiss you, you let him.

It's chaste, sweet and not what you're looking for tonight. The knowing smile he wears when he pulls away tells you he knows it too.

"I had a great time too, text me when you get home?" Your rejection, even an unsaid one, does nothing to change his temper towards you. It's almost a shame, you'd kind of like to see what he could be like with a little more of a spark to him.

"I will!"

You wave and step off the platform and walk home to your apartment. He'd sent you a text checking in earlier but you hadn't answered yet He hadn't sent a follow up, probably distracted. He'd gone out with Megumi and some guys from gym he trained at. He was probably well on his way to being throroughly trashed.

You turn your key in the lock and open the door to your apartment. It's dark and cold. You don't really want to spend the rest of your night alone with your thoughts. You shut the door, lock it and take out your phone. You think about sending a text to Yuuji to see where he is but then change your mind. You don't necessarily feel like sitting a sports bar on a Friday night listening to a bunch of gymbros talk about macros or their upper body circuit.

You could try texting one of your girlfriends, but then you'd have to actually have a meaningful conversation and your brain was one sharp tug away from unraveling.

You bite your lip. There was someone you'd like to see.

"This is a bad idea." You look down at your shoes. "Such a bad idea."

You find yourself outside of bad idea's apartment and your hand is knocking before you can second guess yourself.

The door swings open with your fist still poised to knock again.

"So the date didn't go too well then?"

You bring your arm down, fist still clenched. You had to at least give it to Sukuna, he was fucking consistent. He leaned against the doorway, looking comfortable with how the position allowed him to leer over you and with his choice of casual attire.

He was wearing an old tank top and sweats that looked like they were one wash away from just disintegrating. They did nothing to hide anything and you hated how you couldn't stop your gaze from going down.

"It was a nice date, actually." He hummed and looked over his nails, as if checking his cuticles.

"There's that word again." Sukuna still wasn't looking at you but his smugness filled the air like a pipe had burst that housed particularly toxic fumes. "If he was so nice," the sound came out like a hiss, "then why are you here?"

You didn't answer and when it was clear you weren't going to, Sukuna finally looked up at you.

"I'll tell you why you're here, you know, if you're curious." He stood up to his full height and grabbed your arm, pulling you close to him. When you were right next to each other, he grabbed your chin, pulling you up as he bent down so you were face to face.

His breath smelled like the ginger tea he always had before bed. It was spicy, familiar, it made your hands clench with the urge to hold him.

"You're here because that nice boy wasn't going to fuck you right and that's what you want isn't it," his hand cupped your face, his breath warm on your cheek as he cursed in your ear, "to get fucked?"

You couldn't help yourself from shivering and you nodded as he began to press kisses down your neck. Pulling down the neckline of your dress, probably stretching it, ruining it, and you don't even care, you just want his hands on you.

"Use your words, baby. Tell me is that why you came here? You needed to get fucked right and you knew that I was the only one who could do that for you, isn't that right?" He ends his words with a bite to your collarbone that stops your legs from working right.

You wrap your arms around his neck, your hands going into his soft hair that you know he uses conditioner on and you hate how just the smell of him sends a pulse to your core. That the familiarness of him is just as sexy as his words.

Something about the feel of him in your hands, his words in your ears, his teeth against your neck, it's the same dance you two have done dozens of times and it just keeps getting better. How are you supposed to be satisfied with someone else and when no one else has ever touched you like this, like they know every place that makes you weak, like they were put on this earth just to unmake you?

"Tell me," his words are more urgent now but he doesn't wait for you to answer, pulling you into his apartment and pushing you up against the door after he slams it so hard you're worried the hinges may have snapped. "Tell me, tell me princess. Tell me I'm the only one who can get you like this, the only one who can see you like this."

It's too possessive, too overwhelming. If your mind was still in working order, you may point out these are claims too heavy for a casual hookup. That he was not your boyfriend, or your husband, or anything to you and yet you found yourself nodding anyway.

"Just you, just you Sukuna." For a second he almost seems to freeze and you worry that you said something wrong despite him starting this. That worry is ripped from you when he smashes his mouth to yours, the force of it almost painful. It's an abrupt departure from the other kiss you'd gotten tonight and you wonder if the taste of another man on you fuels him as he starts to pull at your clothes.

You're both barely undressed, only removing what needs to be removed to get him inside you, when he presses his cock against your cunt. It's so hot and you'll never get over how good he fills you, how right it feels when he's inside you and Sukuna finally lets go of your mouth when you let out a moan you're sure they can hear in the hallway. You can feel his grin against your throat and you don't even mind as he settles in you, making you almost uncomfortably full.

"S-Sukuna!"

"Yeah, does that feel good? Like how my cock feels in you?" You don't answer him, not really capable of speech. He hums and pulls out of you just enough for you to feel it when he thrusts back in. You've fucked countless times, it's not even your first time fucking against the front door, which should embarrass you a little more, but something feels different.

Something feels different as Sukuna proceeds to fuck you hard, but somehow gentle, the beat between each thrust calculated for you to get overwhelmed by the feel of him to the point of it being too much just for him to pull away from you, but never fully leave you.

The kisses you exchange are sloppy, more a pressing of mouths together than real kissing and yet it's perfect and he's perfect and you could have tried this with the nice young man you'd gone on a date with tonight, who you're currently forgetting the name of, but what was the point? How could you try and find anyone to take Sukuna's place when he had carved it out himself inside you.

After you've both cum and you feel too tired to even attempt to collect your clothing or your dignity so you can leave, Sukuna lifts you up and carries you to his bedroom. The routine the two of you had previously established was off and you weren't sure what to do about it. You tried not to think about it as he carried you to the bathroom and cleaned you off or as he pulled an old t-shirt over your head. You tried not to think about it even more when he tucked you into bed.

He slid into the bed behind you and pulled you into his arms and you weren't sure how much more you could take before you could ignore it anymore.

He pressed his lips against the back of your neck, his arms tight around you. "Don't do that again."

"Dm mat?" Your words are muddled by sleepiness and the comforter that smells like him that you've pressed to your face.

"Don't go on dates with other guys."

It's not fair, he couldn't ask that of you and you shouldn't let him.

You grab his hands in yours and thread your fingers through them.

"In the morning."

You'll talk about this in the morning, about how you need boundaries and space and maybe this arrangement needs to end. Sukuna hums and presses closer to you, you can feel his lips in your hair.

The both of you can get on the same page in the morning.

Just a little something. Maybe this is a series now? Does the tense change partway through, yes. Does it change in fact multiple times, yes. Idk.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader

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jellofish-plant · 4 months ago

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Caught in the Crossfire

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Summary: Being best friends with Nightwing means you're no stranger to chaos, but falling for Jason Todd, the Red Hood, takes danger to a new level. When a mission involving a dangerous gang puts you squarely in harm's way, the tension between your loyalties and your feelings boils over. Will your bond with Nightwing survive, and will Jason let you in despite his walls?

Warnings: Mentions of violence, injury, light angst, fluff, mild language

[Masterlist]

The sharp snap of a grappling hook echoed through Gotham's empty alleyways as you swung toward the rendezvous point. Another long night assisting Nightwing your best friend on patrol, and you’d already broken a sweat fending off a gang of thugs who apparently had more muscle than brain cells.

“You okay?” Nightwing’s voice crackled in your comms, concern lacing his tone.

“Fine. Just some bruises,” you replied, landing on the rooftop where he waited, leaning casually against a vent.

“That’s my partner,” he said with a grin, ruffling your hair playfully. You swatted his hand away, rolling your eyes.

“Your partner? More like your babysitter.”

Before he could retort, a familiar voice interrupted from the shadows.

“Am I interrupting this heartwarming moment, or should I come back later?”

You turned to see Jason Todd Red Hood approach, his helmet tucked under his arm. His leather jacket gleamed under the moonlight, and his signature smirk was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Jason,” you said, trying to sound neutral.

“Y/N,” he replied, his voice lower, smoother, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Why are you here?” Nightwing asked, crossing his arms and stepping slightly in front of you, the protective older brother act kicking in.

“Intel,” Jason said, holding up a USB drive. “Thought you might want to know the gang you just took down has ties to a bigger fish—one that’s gunning for Y/N.”

You froze. “Me? Why?”

Jason’s smirk disappeared, replaced by a rare seriousness. “You’ve been on their radar since you broke up their weapons shipment last month. They don’t like loose ends.”

Nightwing immediately turned to you, his face dark with worry. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal,” you admitted, guilt creeping in. “I can handle myself.”

“Clearly not,” Jason muttered, earning a glare from Nightwing.

“Enough,” you snapped, stepping between them. “If they’re coming for me, we deal with it together. No macho posturing.”

Jason’s lips twitched as though he wanted to argue but thought better of it. “Fine. But you’re sticking with me tonight.”

“Excuse me?” Nightwing said, stepping forward.

“Relax, Goldilocks,” Jason said with a smirk. “I’m better at keeping people alive when they’re in the crossfire. You can’t argue with that.”

The tension between the two of them was palpable, and you sighed, dragging a hand down your face. “I’ll go with Jason. We don’t have time for this.”

Nightwing looked like he wanted to protest but relented with a nod. “Fine. But you call me the second anything goes wrong.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “She’ll be fine, Dick. Trust me.”

Hours later, you and Jason were staking out a warehouse where the gang’s leader was supposed to be hiding. The silence between you was tense, but it wasn’t entirely uncomfortable.

“Why do you always do that?” you asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

“Do what?” Jason replied, not looking at you.

“Push people away.”

He stiffened, his jaw tightening. “I don’t push people away.”

You scoffed. “Right. Because you’re such a social butterfly.”

Jason finally turned to face you, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. “I push people away because it’s easier than watching them get hurt because of me.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught you off guard. You softened, stepping closer. “Jason… You don’t have to do everything alone. You don’t have to protect everyone by shutting them out.”

His gaze flickered to your hand, which had unconsciously reached for his. For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, he took your hand in his, his grip firm but hesitant.

“Maybe,” he said quietly, “you’re the exception.”

Your heart fluttered, but before you could respond, the sound of footsteps interrupted the moment. Jason immediately pulled away, his gun in hand as he scanned the shadows.

“Stay close,” he murmured, his tone all business now.

You nodded, pulling out your own weapon as the two of you moved into the warehouse.

By the end of the night, the gang was neutralized, and you’d escaped with only a few minor scrapes. Jason had been relentless in keeping you safe, his protective side both frustrating and endearing.

As he walked you back to your apartment, you found yourself smiling despite the chaos.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, glancing at you.

“Nothing,” you said, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how Nightwing’s going to give me an earful for trusting you.”

Jason smirked, his confidence returning. “Let him. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

You stopped at your door, turning to face him. “Thanks, Jason. For everything.”

He hesitated, then leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Anytime, Y/N.”

And with that, he disappeared into the night, leaving you with a heart that felt impossibly full.

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writeriguess · 14 days ago

Note

Hey !!

I was wondering if you could write a bakugo x reader fic. Where reader is a newly found diabetic and they sometimes forget to replace their omnipod (it’s an insulin pump just in case). And Katsuki notices they start slurring while watching a movie or just doing random things and he goes to check the app and see that their blood sugar is through the roof and they forgot to replace their pod. And he scolds reader while replacing it. (All fluff and things)

Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course. ❤️

Sweet Spot of Concern

“Oi, you good?” Katsuki’s voice is sharp, cutting through the low hum of the TV. You blink, head lolling slightly as you realize you’ve been staring blankly at the screen for who knows how long.

“M’fine,” you mumble, trying to push past the fog clouding your thoughts. The movie’s been on for over an hour, but you can’t recall much beyond the opening credits.

Katsuki’s eyes narrow. “You sure? You’re actin’ weird.”

You force a grin. “Just tired, I guess.”

He doesn’t buy it. He never does. His eyes flick down to your Omnipod, and your stomach twists. “When’s the last time you changed your pod?”

“Uh…” You drag the word out, scrambling to recall. It was...a few days ago? Maybe longer. You’ve been so busy—work, errands, trying to keep up with Katsuki’s whirlwind of a schedule. A creeping guilt curls in your chest.

Katsuki’s face hardens. He grabs his phone and pulls up the app synced to your Omnipod. You watch his expression shift from irritation to full-blown alarm.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, glaring at the screen. “Your blood sugar’s through the roof!”

You wince. “It’s not that bad—”

“Not that bad? It says HIGH!” He leans forward, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. “How long have you been feelin’ like this?”

“I dunno…just tired.”

His jaw clenches. “Tired, my ass. You’re slurring your words.” Katsuki gets up, stalking over to the kitchen. He rummages through a drawer and pulls out your spare pod and supplies. “Get over here. Now.”

“Katsuki, I can—”

“Shut it,” he growls. “Sit down before you pass out.”

Your legs carry you over, weak and wobbly. Katsuki grabs your arm and guides you onto a stool, movements rough but careful. He works quickly, disinfecting the site and peeling off the old pod. The adhesive tugs uncomfortably, and you wince.

“Hold still,” he grunts, prepping the new pod. “You can’t be this careless.”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” you mutter.

“Doesn’t matter.” His eyes flick up to meet yours, crimson with a simmering frustration. “You could’ve gone into DKA if I wasn’t here. You know that?”

“I know,” you murmur, shame burning in your cheeks. “I just...forgot.”

“Forgot,” he echoes flatly, pressing the pod against your skin and activating it. The tiny click of the needle sounds, and he smooths it over. “You can’t afford to forget. This ain’t like skipping a damn meal.”

“I know,” you repeat, voice small.

He glares at you for a long moment, then sighs, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. “Look, I get it. It’s a pain in the ass, but you gotta stay on top of it.” He softens, a gruff sort of gentleness creeping in. “What if I wasn’t here, huh?”

You swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he snaps, then sighs again. “Just...do better. I can’t be watchin’ you twenty-four-seven.”

You look up at him, eyes stinging. “I’ll try.”

“Good,” he grunts. He cups your face, thumb brushing your cheek. “Can’t have you droppin’ dead on me, idiot.”

A weak smile tugs at your lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He smirks back, leaning down to press a rough kiss to your forehead. “Damn right.”

The concern in his eyes lingers, even as he pulls away. “You feelin’ okay now?”

“Yeah,” you nod, already feeling clearer. “Better, thanks.”

He grumbles, “Next time, just tell me if you’re off. I’m not a mind reader.”

“I will.”

“Good.” He grips your chin, holding your gaze. “Or I’ll kick your ass myself.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Noted.”

“Damn right,” he mutters, smirking. “Now get back to the couch. I’m rewinding the damn movie.”

You settle in beside him, the weight of his arm draped around your shoulders, and let the warmth of his presence ease the guilt gnawing at you. You’ll do better—if only because Katsuki won’t let you forget.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha #mha #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

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absurdthirst · 1 month ago

Text

The Wedding Planner {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 28.k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, lying, developing feelings, almost/barely kiss, guilt, mentions of menstrual productions/periods, sex, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, condoms, cock riding, protected sex, squirting, one night together, goodbyes, cock worship, body worship,

Comments: You are Javier and Lorraine's wedding planner. Feeling incredibly guilty about developing feelings for the handsome sheriff's deputy. Unknowingly becoming the reason that Javier never shows up at the church. Spending the night together and sending him off to the DEA. Only to reunite when you happen to plan his cousin's wedding.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

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

“Red roses with baby’s breath.” You scroll down your checklist as you wait for the couple to arrive. Wanting to double check everything for them to sign off on since the bride has already changed her mind a few times and you know that this has the potential to backfire and blow up in your face. Wedding planning can be amazing and rewarding and other times….. it can be exasperating, especially this couple.

Javier Peña and Lorraine Smith, the sheriff’s deputy and the rich girl. It’s bad that you have those snarky thoughts, but you have heard about how the Smith’s are very influential around town. Seen it in the way that the bride flashes a brittle smile and a pointed barb to a few of your vendors. It doesn’t help that every time you meet with them, you have to tamp down your growing attraction to the groom.

Javier sighs as he opens the door to his truck, letting Lorraine out and he sees the way she checks her reflection in the window after he shuts the door for her. He hasn't got time to attend all these wedding appointments but Lorraine is insisting. There's word of a drug haul coming over the Rio Grande and he wants to help the DEA handle it. He is eager to help stop the drug routes but it feels hopeless. Lorraine takes his hand as she walks into your store. It's a little place in a strip mall but it's got all the options on display. Christ, Javier knows he shouldn't find you attractive but you standing there in the middle of the store has his stomach twisting and his cock twitching in his jeans. "Hi!" Lorraine squeals, letting go of his hand to embrace you even though she's criticized you behind closed doors.

“Hi to you!” You let her hug you and return it, but your eyes flutter back to where Javier is awkwardly standing, shuffling and propping his hands on his lean hips. He looks so effortlessly sexy in a pair of jeans and a beautiful blue short sleeved button up. Aviator glasses perched on his nose and made the mustache he sports look even sexier in that Tom Selleck, Burt Reynolds kind of way.

"I know it's been a tight timeline but I want to make sure the caterer knows to get the truffle that I want for the potatoes." Lorraine insists and you nod, looking down at your checklist. "It's ordered and the caterer knows to put it in the mashed potatoes with the steak." You confirm and Lorraine grins, "excellent. We just couldn't wait to be married. I know it's been stressful to do this all so quickly." Javier wants to scoff and tell you why it's a shotgun wedding. Lorraine is pregnant but she doesn't want anyone to know. She's old school and wants her family to think she did things the right way. So of course when she told Javier she was pregnant and showed him the test, he made sure to do the right thing. It's what his ma would've wanted. He proposed and Lorraine has set the wedding date for two months. Enough time for her to not be showing and enough time for Javier to admire the wedding planner before he's a married man. You are gorgeous. Funny, smart, and more organized than the damn sheriff's department. You handle Lorraine with grace and he wants to learn your ways, certain it could help him with his impending marriage to the strong willed woman.

“Oh, we want a truffle butter sauce too.” Lorraine adds and you hum, “I can ask the caterer, but you know that truffles are expensive.” You remind her, knowing that it will be another add on to the already tight budget. You don’t have to glance over at Javier to know that he’s grimacing. They’ve already had plenty of heated discussions about the amount of money she’s spent on this wedding so far. “We could save that expense to use on the extra candles you want?”

Lorraine turns to look at Javier, “baby. I just want this to be perfect. I will talk to my daddy. He can pay for the difference. He wants the best for his little girl. I can only hope Jay will be as good a daddy for our kids.” Lorraine giggles and Javier bites the inside of his cheek. He hates it when she calls him Jay. No one else does and it’s not his goddamn name. He shakes his head, “we can’t ask your daddy to pay for more of this wedding. I- I can swing it.” Javier promises, looking over at you to nod his consent.

You scribble the note in your book, nodding in agreement even though you think it’s a ridiculous expense. Truffle wasn’t even good in most of the applications, and you didn’t care for the way that the caterer used it with the potatoes. However, it’s not your wedding. “Filet medallions with truffle potatoes and truffle butter and asparagus.” You glance back up at the couple to make sure there aren’t any changes to the menu. Lorraine nods and you bite your lip as you look back down at the list. “And have you decided on your final wedding colors?”

Javier bites his lip, unsure of why he even has to be here. Lorraine has already decided on these details and she damn sure didn’t ask him for his opinion. She beams, “pale yellow and pastel green.” Javier resists wrinkling his nose, knowing the colors are her choice but Jesus, did she have to have such bad taste? “My bridesmaids have already gotten their dresses. My dress is ready for alterations. Just need Jay to get his suit and we should be nearly there. The girls I picked for my bridesmaids will make me look extra pretty if you know what I mean.” Lorraine smirks and Javier scoffs, “isn’t one of my cousins a bridesmaid?” He asks and Lorraine shrugs, “she clearly didn’t get the looks from your gene pool.” Javier shakes his head, clenching his jaw to try and keep his annoyance in. He isn’t doing this for him. He’s doing this for his child. That’s what he keeps reminding himself.

You can tell that Javier is annoyed, his eyes tighten and his jaw does this sexy clench thing that bulges out slightly. It makes him look a little dangerous and you try to ignore the way that your stomach flips. “Do we want a best man?” You ask, realizing you had never talked about that with them. “Groomsmen?”

“Oh, Jay’s best friend is serving overseas. He won’t be here for the wedding and my baby isn’t one for social events.” Lorraine coos, caressing Javier’s chest and he stiffens under her touch. “I have friends in the sheriff’s office. I couldn’t invite them because you insisted on inviting so many from your side. I had to make sacrifices.” He says through slightly clenched teeth. Lorraine has railroaded him down the aisle without a say in the damn wedding. He barely managed to get his family invited to make way for her nail tech and her husband.

Your eyes flicker back over to Javier and his own dark eyes seem to communicate his unhappiness, but there is nothing you can do. “Do you want me to make an appointment with the tailor?” You ask the couple. “Classic black tuxedo or suit?”

“Tuxedo.” Lorraine answers for him and Javier frowns. He wanted to wear his cowboy boots. A true Texas wedding. Lorraine wants something less Laredo and more Dallas. He knows it’s best to not argue so he nods his agreement and you nod, “I’ll make your appointment.” Lorraine tilts her head, “make sure it’s the best in town. I don’t want a tin pot tailor.”

You smile blandly, almost insulted by the comment. “Of course.” You assure her, as if you would not work with the best. “That’s all that I have on my list.” You glance down again and make another little note. “Is there anything else either of you need? Javier?” You hate how the groom gets shoved aside and he looks frankly miserable.

“I was wondering if we could do a photo of my mom. On a chair in the ceremony.” He asks and you nod, a soft smile on your face. “Of course.” Lorraine frowns, “baby…we have limited space at the front and my sister is bringing her boyfriend. She asked if he could sit so we need every seat we can get. You don’t mind if he sits on your side?” Javier frowns, “in the front row?” Lorraine nods, “yeah.” Javier shakes his head, “instead of my mom’s photo?” He asks incredulously.

You bite your lip, watching as Lorraine skips over Javier’s wishes like they don’t matter. “Baby, don’t fight me on this please?” She begs, pouting in an exaggerated manner and you want to roll your eyes at her blatant attempts to manipulate. “If you’d like, we can have a photo on a stand at the end of the front row?” You offer, wanting to give him what he wants. “It wouldn’t take a chair and it would keep her photo in your sight when looking out at the guests.”

Javier bites his lip, grateful to you for considering his wishes, and he nods, “that would be great.” Lorraine wants to argue that it will ruin the symmetry but she knows when to pick her battles with Javier. She caresses his chest, smiling at you, while Javier keeps his dark gaze on you. He wonders what you’d say to your fiance if he requested a photo of his mom on a chair. He’s certain you’d say yes. From what he’s seen, you appear to be a beautiful person inside and out. He wishes Lorraine could be considerate and loving but she clearly only loves herself. He’s an accessory to her. Something to own and show off about. He was taken in by her, still grieving his mom, and she was fun. A distraction. One that took a turn.

“Javier, if you will get me the photo you want displayed and her name, I will make sure that the display is tasteful and honorific.” You promise, feeling the weight of his gaze and having to look away for fear of your attraction to him becoming obvious. You already feel your cheeks heating up.

Javier swears he sees your eyes darken and he blinks and the gaze is gone. His stomach twists at the mere idea that you could be attracted to him but Lorraine distracts him by dragging him over to the displays. “I want us to write our own vows.” She tells Javier, touching the vow keepsake on the wall. “I want to hear how much you love me.”

You move over to your desk, trying to settle your nerves and give the couple some privacy. You’ve never been this attracted to a groom before and it rattles you. Sure, you’ve thought some were attractive, or even sweet, but none of them have made you nervous like Javier does. Feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush and it bothers you. It’s unprofessional. You sit down and start to make a list of the calls you need to make tomorrow, knowing that this wedding needs to be finalized quickly. Once Javier is married, the attraction will fizzle away. At least, that’s what you hope.

Javier glances over at you, watching you as you make notes and he half listens as Lorraine rattles on about the last minute details. She’s only twelve weeks pregnant but the wedding is coming up fast and Javier wants to bolt. Christ, he doesn’t want this but he has to follow through. He has to do the right thing.

From the way that Javier is staring off into space when you look up, you know that he’s not paying attention to Lorraine. You wonder how the hell they ever made it to this point, considering that he doesn’t seem to be enthusiastic about this wedding, although she had said he wasn’t much of a social creature.

It doesn’t take long to wrap up the meeting and Javier offers you a nod and a smile as Lorraine gushes over you, hugging you and making you promise this is going to be the best wedding you’ve ever planned. Javier takes her hand and guides her back out into the hot Texas sun. “This wedding is going to be the talk of the town for years to come.” She boasts and Javier hums, unlocking his truck as he resists the urge to look back at your place.

****

“Whiskey. Neat.” Javier orders, tapping his fingers on the counter after he takes a seat at the bar. It’s rough and ready, sawdust and peanut shells on the floor along with the odd cigarette butt while country music plays on the jukebox. Lorraine would never be caught dead in here and that’s what Javier is relying on. He doesn’t want to go home to her and he needs a drink. He lost a high school kid today to an OD. Fucking cocaine. The kid died in his arms when he tried to save him while the paramedics were on their way but it was too late. The cartels are winning and killing innocent people and there’s nothing he can do. He pulls his cigarettes out of his pocket, thanking the bartender when the glass is set down in front of him, and Javier curses as he tries to find his lighter.

“This round is on me.” You promise, grinning as you push away from the pool table after laying your stick down. Turning to the bar, you see a familiar set of shoulders and look around for Lorraine. When you don’t see her, you’re a little relieved that you might not have to talk about wedding details. Walking over and smirking when you see Javier fishing for a lighter. “Here.” You offer, reaching into your pocket for your zippo when you lean against the bar beside him. “Looks like you need that smoke.”

Javier is surprised by your appearance, his eyebrows raising as he puffs on the cigarette and he reaches up to hold it as he exhales the smoke. “Thanks. Didn’t think you smoked?” He says, tilting his head and you chuckle, “I don’t. I just - I use it for candles for weddings. Always have a lighter.” You confess and Javier chuckles, tapping the smoke on the ashtray. “Always prepared. Guess that’s what makes you the best wedding planner in town.” He smirks, reaching for his drink.

His compliment makes you grin and you turn towards the bartender as he walks back over. “Another round of Budweisers.” You order before you watch him take a healthy swallow of his whiskey. “And another round for him.” You add, thinking that he might need it after essentially killing most of his drink already. “Lorraine meeting you here?” You ask.

Javier shakes his head, lifting the cigarette to have another drag, “she’s with her mom going over the final alteration for the dress. I got kicked out and uh, it was a rough day at work so I needed a drink. I should be buying you a drink for putting up with Lorraine’s demands.” He chuckles and exhales the smoke from the side of his mouth.

“Nahhhhh.” You shift slightly, turning towards him as you frown slightly. He looks upset, or sad. Either one almost makes him look annoyed if it wasn’t for his eyes. “You look like you need it more than me.” You murmur softly. You know he’s a cop, so whatever happened had to be bad. “Wanna talk about it? Or just drink?”

He knows he should go to his pa's or at least finish his drink and leave but your eyes are soft and inviting. He feels comforted by just your presence and he sighs, taking another sip of his drink. "Lost a teenager today to coke. I tried to give CPR but he was gone." He confesses, "I feel like the drugs are endless. Whenever we have a bust, there's another mule bringing more across the river. It's an endless fight."

“Oh god.” Your heart shatters and you reach over to lay your hand on Javier’s arm. “I am so sorry, Javier.” You murmur softly. “I can’t even imagine how much that hurts.” You know that he has to be blaming himself for not saving the kid even though there was nothing he could do beyond what he had tried.

“It’s - I feel like it never ends. I want to do more to stop it. I see so many people dying from drugs and I want to help save lives.” He confesses, “I was considering joining the DEA.” He admits, “I got the application from work but I’m not sure.”

“Do you think that you would be able to better help there?” You ask seriously, knowing that Lorraine has talked about when she convinces Javier to leave the sheriff’s department. “If you think you can, maybe you should do it.”

Javier sighs, "Lorraine wants me to quit the sheriff's office to go work with her daddy in his furniture stores. I don't - I'm not a salesman. I want to get these assholes who are killing innocent people." He murmurs, sucking on his cigarette.

“You can’t do that.” You shake your head, reaching for the beers that the bartender brings back over along with the new glass of whiskey for Javier. “If you do that, you’ll end up resenting her for making you change your career.” You tell him. “Hang on for a second. Let me deliver these beers and I’ll be right back.” You don’t want to stop talking with him since he needs a shoulder to lean on but you need to tell the guys you were playing pool with that your sitting out the next few games.

Javier nods, thanking the bartender, and he squashes his cigarette in the ashtray as you come over to the bar again. "You don't have to babysit me, hermosa, if you are out with your friends." He says and you shake your head, "it's not babysitting." He snorts until he softens, turning to look at you. "Thank you." He murmurs, knowing you are trying to be a good person. "It's just been a lot. With the wedding and Lorraine and the - well, I- it's been a rollercoaster."

“I understand.” You tell yourself that you are just providing support for the upcoming groom. Ignoring the way your step seems to bounce as you walk back towards the pool tables, almost giddy to talk to Javier alone.

Your perfume is light and fresh as you settle on the barstool next to him, and he finds himself comparing it to Lorraine's heavy and sweet perfume that she got for Christmas for herself on his card that makes him slightly nauseous. Thankfully she hasn't been wearing it lately. "So...are you planning any other weddings?" He asks, eager to hear you talk a little more.

You laugh. “I am.” You admit, leaning against the bar and taking a sip of your beer. “I’ve got three that are coming up in the next month, and several that are over the next four months.” You are proud of the business that you have slowly been building. “With more women working, having a wedding planner makes things easier for them.” You shrug. “I’ve also planned parties for companies, so I do pretty much anything someone pays me to do.”

He can't help but be impressed. You are impressive, managing all those events, dealing with impatient brides. He smiles and hums, taking a sip of his whiskey, and he pauses after he swallows. "How many weddings have a groom that isn't sure if he wants to get married?" He asks quietly, his dark eyes meeting yours.

It’s a loaded question and one that you need to tread lightly on. His unhappiness seems to pour from his eyes and you don’t want to make him feel like he has to do this. “Quite a few.” You admit honestly. “Sometimes it’s just due to nerves, fears of the future.” You sigh. “Other times…..” you trail off and take another sip of your beer and let his imagination fill in the rest.

****

Javier snorts as he sets his empty glass down. You’ve had a few rounds and he feels relaxed, the horror of his work day pushed aside while you make him laugh at a story of a groom who was so drunk he fell into the wedding cake. “Shit. Lorraine would probably kill me if I did that.” He murmurs and you reach out to touch his arm, “the bride was furious but she laughed. The groom fucked up but she loves him so she let it go. That’s what marriage is, right? Forgiving the other when they mess up because you love them.” You say and Javier taps his fingers on the counter, knowing that Lorraine would probably annul their marriage if he fell into a cake. “Yeah. I guess so.” He sighs, “this guy at the station got married a few months ago. We took him out for a bachelor night and of course he wanted to go to the strip club. We went, sat down and ordered drinks, and they announced the first dancer…his face when the girl came out on stage…it was his sister. He didn’t know she was a dancer. Too scared to tell him.” Javier snorts, shaking his head, “he just about had a heart attack.”

“Oh my god.” Your eyes widen as you start to laugh. “Talk about ruining his entire night. He just wanted to see some tits, but not his sisters!” Javier throws his head back and laughs, exposing the long column of his throat at that gorgeous Adam’s Apple. You have to stare, realizing you’ve never seen him laugh like this before, the sound making your stomach flip and your cunt clench around nothing.

Javier chuckles as his laughter settles down and he nods, “he was mortified and took her home. That was the first stop, so bachelor night was cut pretty short.” He turns to look at you after glancing along the bar. “The guys are planning on making it up on my night.” He says and you smile, “it will be epic then.” Javier nods and turns to look at you, “how the hell have you not planned your own wedding yet?” He asks, confused how someone like you is single.

“You know that old saying that those that can’t do, teach?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “I’ve just never found someone that is willing to put up with me, I guess.” You shrug, feeling a little vulnerable.

Javier nods, his eyes burning into yours as he sees the vulnerability there. “Well, I’m sure you’ll meet someone who thinks you are worth putting up with.” He promises, reaching out to touch your hand that’s on the counter.

You don’t think about how inappropriate it is, or how he’s just being polite. Your attraction to Javier makes you lean in to kiss him before you can catch yourself. It’s only when his eyes widen slightly in shock do you realize what you are doing and jump back guiltily. “Oh God. I- I should go.” You stammer out quickly, embarrassed at how big of an ass you are. He’s getting married, he’s a client and you just tried to kiss him. Standing up, you reach into your pocket to pull out money to cover your tab. “I’m so sorry.”

Javier doesn't get a chance to say anything as you rush off and he frowns, his lips tingling from the brief touch of your lips on his, and he sighs. He can't say anything to Lorraine to risk your job but also, he wants to keep this secret. For a brief moment, Javier had a glimpse into a life without Lorraine and he liked it. Just as he considers going after you, the bartender comes over and tells him he has a call. "It's Lorraine." The bartender says and Javier sighs, reaching for his wallet to throw some bills down before he walks to the phone, knowing Lorraine will be chasing him to come home.

****

“Just pretend he is any other groom.” Since that night, you have steered clear of the bar, of the gas station where the cigarettes are the cheapest. Any place that Javier Peña might be. Wallowing in shame, you had halfway expected a screeching call from Lorraine to fire you. Relieved when you hadn’t and hating that you put Javier in that position. Now, one week from their wedding, they are on their way to your office and you are nervous about seeing him again.

Javier opens the door for Lorraine as the bell above your door rings to announce your presence. “Oh Jay. Look at these.” Lorraine rushes over to the mock table to admire the new gold chargers you got in the other day. “Hmmm.” Javier acknowledges her as she admires the table but it’s already been decided and he’s not ready to start the process again.

You swallow down the urge to flee, not even looking at Javier as you stand up and walk over to Lorraine. “One week to go.” You feign excitement, knowing every bride is looking forward to their big day.

Lorraine is beaming as she nods at you, "one week to go until I can call this handsome man mine." She winks at Javier but he doesn't react. Lorraine takes no notice of his lack of excitement and she walks over to where you have a mock set up of the table placement. "I just want you to confirm this is what you want and how you want it." You say and Lorraine eyes the setting while Javier shoves his hands in his jeans. His eyes meet yours and he offers you a small smile, wanting you to know it's okay even though he's really been thinking about that kiss every damn minute. As brief as it was, it consumed him and that made him anxious because he's getting married next week.

You nod awkwardly, trying to keep your demeanor professional, even though you are dying inside. “You know, I don’t think I like the flowers.” You barely resist the urge to groan, knowing that Lorraine had insisted on this arrangement. She had sign off on it. “It’s the red roses with baby’s breath, like you ordered.”

Javier wants to scream as Lorraine changes her mind again. “Baby.” He walks over to her, “I thought you wanted red roses with baby’s breath? Remember? Your cousin had them and you told me you wanted more than her.” He says, knowing that reminding Lorraine of how much she loves to be better than others will get her to agree to this without creating more work for you.

“I know, but it looks a little plain, doesn’t it?” She tilts her head as she looks at the centerpiece. You had made sure that everything was perfect and the were full. “I saw a floral arrangement where there were red, white and pink roses.” You don’t show how frustrated you are, listening to her as she rambles. “I think we should do that.” Shaking your head, you disagree. “I think it would take attention away from your wedding colors.”

Lorraine’s head spins so fast to look at you you swear she nearly breaks her neck. “I want this to be perfect. You want to it to be perfect, right baby?” She coos as she turns to look at Javier who nods and offers you a soft smile, “yes of course but it will clash with the colors you’ve picked. Let’s stick with what you picked. I think you’ll love it on the day.” He says, trying to calm her down.

“No, I want red, pink and white roses.” Lorraine hisses, slapping away Javier’s hand when he reaches for hers. You cut your eyes away and clear your throat. “The flowers have been ordered.” You remind her gently. “Last minute changes will be costly. Especially white and pink roses.”

Javier clenches his jaw, knowing that Lorraine is being completely unreasonable but he knows that provoking her will make this worse. “Fine. How much? I’ll pay for it.” Javier says through gritted teeth, not wanting to ask her daddy to pay for anything else. He’s already ragging on Javier for not making enough money to support Lorraine…he doesn’t even know the whole story.

You wince, knowing that it won’t be cheap, “I’ll have to call the florist, but with the arrangements we have, probably another $600.”

Javier winces at the amount. That’s way more than he imagined but Lorraine is looking at him like he hung the moon and she’s been reminding him that she can’t get stressed out so he nods, reaching for his wallet to write you a check.

You know the florist is going to be upset, but you will buy her a bottle of wine and help her redesign the arrangements. Javier scribbles his name and rips it out of the book, holding it out to you. You hesitate, biting your lip and Lorraine giggles. “Go ahead and take it. It’ll clear, I know he’s good for it.” She coos, reaching out to caress his chest.

Javier tilts his head slightly, wanting to ask if you can wait a couple of days until his payday but he doesn’t. He will ask his Pa for a loan until he’s paid and then pay him back. He’s tired of how much this wedding has cost and he’s a proud man. He doesn’t want to owe Lorriane’s family a dime. He wants to be his own man.

“It’s going to be a few days,” you tell him, folding the check over after taking it out of his hands. “I don’t pay for the flowers until they arrive.” What you don’t say is that you want to wait until Lorraine cannot possibly make any more changes.

Javier nods, a little relieved, and Lorraine squeals, leaning in to kiss him. “I can’t wait for the wedding. I have so many family members coming into town. They are so excited to see me.” She grins and your frown catches Javier’s eyes as Lorraine rushes back over to the table. He had to sacrifice his own family member’s invites to make way for Lorraine’s.

You swallow, unsure of what to say to him, so you don’t say anything until he murmurs your name. “Javier.” You rush out at the same time and then there’s that awkward pause but you push forward. “Have you finalized your fittings with the tailor?” You ask, reminding yourself that this mind is getting married in seven days.

He nods, “yeah. I, uh, I’m due to go in on Tuesday for the final fitting.” He explains and you nod, “good. That’s perfect.” Lorraine smiles at you, a little unnerving, but she wants everything to be perfect. She wants the town to talk about this wedding for years to come.

“Is there anything else we need to discuss?” You ask. “The seating chart is set and the venue will set up the sweetheart table instead of a family style wedding party table.”

Lorraine squeals again, “it’s going to be incredible and I get to make this gorgeous man mine. All mine.” She leans in to kiss Javier and his mind flashes back to the kiss you put on his lips. Fuck, it’s hard to not be reminded of it every time he looks at you. He swallows down that feeling, shoving it from his mind as he kisses Lorraine on her hair. “It’s going to be amazing.” He agrees but it doesn’t sound authentic to his own ears

“Amazing.” You agree, clapping your hands together after a moment of awkward silence. “Well, I know you two probably have a lot to do, getting ready for your big day, so I’ll let you two get at it.” It sounds embarrassing and awkward, but you just give them a smile.

Lorraine grins, “yes. Lots to do.” She smirks at Javier who offers her a bland smile. She wants sex which is strange because she hasn’t fucked him since the night he proposed. He loves sex, craves it, but he never pushes himself on his partner. He has waited for her to come back to him and apparently tonight is that night. “I’ll see you soon.” You promise and Javier nods, thanking you as he takes Lorraine’s hand to guide her from your place.

When they leave, you sit down at your desk and sigh. One more week and you can put all of this behind you. Javier will be married and starting his perfect life with Lorraine. You just need to make it through.

****

Javier exhales as he adjusts his suit jacket. He stares in the mirror as he takes in the sight of his wedding attire. Today is the day. The day he’s going to marry Lorraine. He sighs, rubbing his freshly shaven chin and he’s anxious. His pa is getting ready and Javier feels like he needs some fresh air before he heads to the church. “Pa! I’m going to get some air. I’ll meet you at the church!” He calls out and Chucho chuckles as he lowers his razor. He knows that his son isn’t marrying the love of his life today. He remembers when he married Maria. He could hardly contain his excitement. Hell, he would’ve eloped if he could. Javier slams the door to his truck, taking a moment before he turns the key to start the engine and he reaches for his pack of cigarettes. “Shit.” He groans. He’s out. He decides to head to the store he knows will be open on a Sunday. His usual place will be closed for church.

“Shit, shit.” You had been dragged into the bridal suite at the church to quell another crisis. The fifth one of the day, but this one has a time crunch. There aren’t a lot of stores open today and it’s just your damn luck that the extra supply of tampons you keep in your purse is gone. Now you are hunting down a box for the bride since she just started. “Where the hell is the fucking tampon aisle?” You hiss, unfamiliar with the layout of this store.

Javier strides to the front, pulling out his wallet, and the cashier tilts his head, nodding when Javier grunts “Marlboros.” He points to the pack he wants and the cashier nods, working on getting the pack and ringing him up. Javier taps his fingers on the counter and he turns his head just as you come barreling towards the cash register. He says your name, eyes wide and he looks down at the box of tampons in your hand, raising his eyebrows.

Your eyes widen in surprise to find Javier standing in the store in his wedding tuxedo. He looks damn good and it makes your cheeks burn when he looks down at the box in your hand. “Oh they aren’t for me!” You blurt out, resisting the urge to hide the box behind your back. You’re a grown ass woman for Christ’s sake. “Lorraine started her period, so don’t be surprised if she’s not feeling up for anything tonight.” You wince again, knowing that wasn’t very helpful to blurt that out, but he is about to marry her today. Surely he’s been disappointed when she was on her period.

Javier is frozen. He frowns, his gaze flicking down to the box in your hand. “I’m sorry. You said - you said Lorraine started her period?” He asks, eyes wide when he looks at you in shock. “Yeah?” You frown, confused, “she said she needed them right away so she didn’t get blood on her dress.” Javier shakes his head, glancing around the store and his eyes meet yours as he shakily inhales. “Lorraine is supposed to be fifteen weeks pregnant.”

“Oh….oh god.” At first, your heart drops. Thinking that Lorraine is going through something horrible until you remember what she said. “How? She said that she hated being on her period during her bachelorette weekend.” You had to listen to her complain about her plans being ruined and you had just assumed she had meant the wedding night and honeymoon activities.

Javier shakes his head, “unbelievable.” He can’t believe it. She’s lied to him. He saw the scan. She went to the doctor alone because he had to work and he believed her. He fucking proposed because she got pregnant. “Fuck.” He growls in anger and he shakes his head, turning to the cashier who has wide eyes. “Pen and paper.” Javier demands and the cashier hands it to him with shaky hands. He scribbles a note and hands it to you. “Give this to her.” He orders, grabbing his cigarettes, “and take her the damn tampons.” He throws some cash down for the box, his heart pounding and his blood boiling as he strides out of the store.

You are so confused and your heart is pounding in your chest. The sinking feeling that you had just done something horrible settles in your stomach and you quickly pay for the tampons and rush out to your car. You want to read the folded note, but you can’t. It wouldn’t be right. “Shit.” You huff, knowing you have to go give Lorraine this letter and instinctively knowing it’s not good.

Lorraine is admiring herself in the mirror when you return and she turns to look at you. “About time. Took forever to get some damn tampons.” She scoffs and the bridesmaids giggle despite their puffy dresses that make most people wince. “So-sorry. I, uh, bumped into Javier and he gave me a note to give you.” You say, setting the box of tampons down after giving her the note. Lorraine grins, grabbing the note and she turns to look at the others, “probably a note to tell me how much he can’t wait to marry me. He’s a secret romantic.” She coos and opens the note. Her smile falls as she reads and then re-reads the note. It says ‘I know there’s no baby, Lorraine. It’s over. I’m not marrying you today.’ She gasps, crumbling the paper, and she looks at the box of tampons and then to you. “Did he see these?” You choke, unable to answer, and Lorraine screams, tossing the box across the room. “What’s happened?” Her maid of honor asks and Lorraine turns to them. “Javier has run off. He told me he can’t marry me. He’s left me at the altar!” She starts to sob, desperate to garner sympathy for this.

You sigh softly, knowing that you will need to be the one to tell the guests that have started gathering that there won’t be a wedding. You step back as the bridesmaids swarm around Lorraine and coo, immediately bashing Javier for being too much of a coward to face you himself.

Javier doesn’t know what he’s doing. He drives and drives until he stops at the only phone box in town. He curses as he grabs some change and pulls the piece of paper out of his jacket that was written on the letter he received a few days ago. He was going to throw it in the trash, considering it a pipe dream that would never happen, but was nice to know it was possible. He taps his fingers on top of the metal box as the line rings and they answer. “Houston DEA office.” Javier gives the name of the letter sender and he’s connected through after a few beeps. “Hi, it’s Javier Peña. When can I start?” He asks, feeling this is the right thing to do in his gut.

It’s hours later before you pull up to your house. Exhausted and wrung out from the questions, tears and blame that had been bandied about. Mr. Peña, Javier’s father, had walked into a shit storm when he arrived at the church. You had quickly shuffled him out the door and explained the options. There wasn’t any way to get any money back from the wedding, so you had suggested they go enjoy the reception and eat the food and drink the booze. Luckily enough, the guests liked the idea and Lorraine had been escorted from the church, weeping, by her parents. You sigh as you gather up your purse to go into the house, eager to strip off your dress and soak in a well deserved bath.

Javier doesn’t know why he’s here. He called the office and got the address, ignoring the questions of why he wasn’t currently getting married. He parked up and he’s pacing, the sun beating down on his face as he takes a drag of his cigarette. When your car pulls into the driveway, he exhales the smoke and tosses it to the ground, snubbing it out with his polished dress shoe.

Getting out of your car, you toggle your keys in your hand to find your house key. Eager to get inside and take off the practical flats you wear when working. Someone saying your name captures your attention and you turn to find Javier hurrying towards you. “Javi!” You gasp out in surprise to find him in front of your house. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you, seeing the compassionate glaze in your eyes and he can’t help it. He surges forward to cup your cheeks, his lips meeting yours in a kiss he’s imagined so many times since you pecked his lips at the bar.

Any questions die when he presses his lips to yours. The small squeak of surprise turning into a groan when he takes advantage of that to slide his tongue inside your mouth, your hands coming up to grab his shoulders, to either push him away or pull him closer you couldn’t decide, but you ultimately press your body as close to him as you can and give into the attraction you have for him, kissing him back just as eagerly.

He groans, his entire body lighting up, and he has never felt this way when he kissed Lorraine. He pulls you closer until he realizes that you’re outside and he needs to strip you down, hear you moan his name like he’s ashamedly imagined. He reluctantly pulls back, your lips chasing his until he nudges your nose with his own, needing you to take a beat. “Baby. Baby. Keys. Inside.” He demands, “if you want. If not, if not I’ll leave now.”

You search his gaze, finding need and lust swirling in the dark depths of his eyes. You should feel guilty, knowing that you contributed to him not showing up to that church tonight, but you just take a shake breath and nod. “Inside. Yes.”

He steps back, allowing you to walk to the front door to unlock it with your keys. Your hands shake a little and he keeps his hands to himself until you push the door open. His hands find your hips and he pushes you further into your home, kicking the door shut, and he wastes no time pushing you up against the wall of your hallway, his lips finding yours again.

You moan into the kiss. Reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulder and give into the need that you had felt for him. You know that this is wrong, that you should be talking to Javier rather than kissing him, but you can’t stop.

He's grateful he took the bow tie and tuxedo jacket off in his truck so your hands can explore his back over the thin material of his shirt. His tongue sliding back into your mouth and his hands are everywhere, finding your ass to squeeze the flesh, pulling you against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing against your hip, making you moan into his mouth. Your fingers pull at the crisp white shirt, dragging it free from the neatly tucked in edges under his pants.

He feels like he's been consumed by desire for you. Every sordid thought he's ever had and felt guilty about is surfacing and his hand slides up your thigh, under your dress. His fingers play with the cotton of your underwear and he slides his digits along to press against your clit through the material.

You shiver and moan again. Feeling the firm pressure of his fingers and knowing that this man is talented. There’s no hesitation in his touch, just the eagerness to hear you make a sound for him, considering how his cock twitched in his pants when you moaned.

You are damp through the material and that makes him groan your name. His lips press against your jaw while your hands slide along his back under his shirt until you start to fumble with the buttons. "Fuck, hermosa." He murmurs when your palms slide against his bare skin while his fingers rub your clit.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You pant, trying to reason with him and yourself even as your fingers pluck the buttons from their slots. “You were supposed to be married by now.” Javier snorts and his teeth nip your pulse, making you whimper. “But I’m not married.” He points out.

He knows this is sudden. He just left Lorraine at the altar and now he's here. You should slap him, tell him to fuck off. Instead, you're grinding into his touch and caressing his skin. "I want you." Javier murmurs, "haven't stopped thinking about that kiss in the bar."

“Me either.” You admit breathlessly. “I shouldn’t be so attracted to you. You are - were - engaged.” You flick the end of his belt open. “But I want you so bad it hurts.”

“I’m not engaged anymore. I told her in that note that it’s over. It was before I found out she was pregnant.” He confesses, “I was trying to do the right thing. This feels like the right thing.” He groans, pulling his hand away to grab the hem of your dress and he leans back from you so he can pull it over your head.

“Fucking against the door of my house feels like the right thing?” You laugh, pulling his belt open and freeing it from the loops of his pants. “I have a bed.”

“No. Fucking a woman I haven’t been able to stop thinking about and not marrying the one that lied to me about being pregnant is the right thing.” He clarifies and tosses your dress to the floor. “Bed. Now.” He orders, needing you to guide him to your bedroom.

You grin at his order, enjoying the way his raspy voice drops roughly. It makes your cunt clench as you slide by him, reaching down and squeezing his cock briefly. “Come on and I’ll show you what I’ve been thinking about.”

Javier groans your name, toeing off his shoes before following you down the hall, and when you open your bedroom door, he’s shrugging off his shirt. You turn towards him and his breath catches when he sees you standing there with eager eyes. “Hermosa.” He murmurs, stepping closer to kiss you again.

You lick your lips, reaching up and caressing the smooth, tanned skin of his chest. He’s lean and strong, muscle sinewy under your fingertips. “You are beautiful.” You breathe out, body tense with need. You lean in and press your lips to his neck before he can kiss you.

He groans when you kiss him so softly, his hands gripping your waist and he slowly walks you backwards towards your bed while his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra. “Want to see all of you.” He murmurs against your chin as he drags it down your arms. He groans at the sight of your tits and he wastes no time ducking his head, his hand cupping your breast to tilt it so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

You moan, loving how eagerly he touches you. How it’s not just stripping you down to slide inside you. He sucks and flicks his tongue over the hard nipple, making you whimper in pleasure as you run your fingers through his hair, the crunch of the hair gel and hair spray making you giggle.

He wishes you could run your fingers through his hair but his hair is slicked back for the day for what was supposed to be wedding photos. He groans as you grip his shoulders and he sucks on your nipple, biting down before he switches to the other one.

You whine his name, loving how attentive he is to your body. Groaning against your tit and continuing to suckle like he is a man starved. Lorraine is a beautiful woman so you have to be proud of the fact that this man wants you. His hard cock digs into your thought and you reach down between you to slip your hand in his pants and you hum when you find no underwear and wrap your fingers around his cock.

He hisses against your skin and you fumble to unbutton his pants, shoving them down a little before you take his cock in your hand once more. “Lay down.” He rasps, needing to see all of you. You reluctantly let go of his cock and lay down, allowing him to shove his pants down and kick them aside, stumbling as he peels off his socks. He’s fully naked in front of you and his gaze is dark as he reaches out to hook his fingers in your panties.

Biting your lip, you lift your hips and let him drag them down. They aren’t sexy, they are just practical cotton, comfortable for work but you don’t think he cares. He tosses them aside and groans as he looks down at you. His cock twitches and you get the best view in the world as he reaches down and squeezes his cock before he slowly starts to stroke himself. “Fuck.” You moan, reaching out with your foot to run along his calf. “I want you Javier.”

He nods, happy you are as eager for him as he is for you. He grabs your calf, letting go of his cock to slide his hand along your leg until he is pushing your thighs apart. “Wanna taste you.” He murmurs, shifting to kneel between your thighs and he presses kisses to your skin as he works his way up to your cunt.

“You don’t have to do that.” You promise, trying to close your legs, but his broad shoulders are wedged between them, keeping them open. “Javi-“ you whine. “I haven’t shaved.” You hate shaving, but your ex boyfriend would barely touch you if you didn’t have everything nearly bare. And he never wanted to go down on you, complaining that he didn’t like it.

Javier scoffs, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushes your thighs apart. “I don’t care about that.” He promises, knowing that Lorraine was meticulous about shaving or waxing but he didn’t care. She became boring during sex, laying there and he lost his passion for her. Right now, there’s passion burning inside him and he is starving for you. He leans in, sliding his tongue through your folds without hesitation .

You gasp in complete awe as he starts to devour you. His dark eyes flickering up to your face and then down to your heaving tits as you open for him. Your stiff legs relax and fall open even more, yielding to whatever he wants as long as he keeps going. It’s been so long since someone touched you with such desire. “Javi.”

He doesn’t have forever to spend between your legs, he has places to go, but right now, he takes his time to slide his tongue through your folds. Flicking it over your clit and he loves the strangled cry that escapes your lips as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Oh god.” You moan and roll your hips down to his tongue, wanting more. Still, you want him inside you more. “Javi, baby, you need to fuck me.” You beg, fumbling for the nightstand to pull out a condom. You haven’t had sex in a long time, but you believe in being safe.

He was going to ask if you had a condom. He’s been with Lorraine and he doubts she cheated on him but he wants you to be safe. He pulls away from your cunt, licking his lips, and he shifts to kneel between your spread thighs, hand held out for the condom.

You could cry in relief when you grab the foil packet. Practically flinging it at him and lunging up to wrap your hand around his cock and pumping it as he rips open the condom. He twitches in your hand, making you groan. “I want to suck your cock .” You decide.

“No. No. Wanna be inside you.” He says, batting your hand away so he can roll the condom down his length. He’s so fucking eager for you. He’s twitching as he grips himself and shuffles closer to you. “Are you sure?” He asks, his gaze meeting yours.

Your eyes meet his and you don’t hesitate. “Yes.” You pant, leaning in and pressing your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and drag him back down to the bed with you. His other arm braces his weight so he doesn’t crush you and your legs immediately lift up to his hips as he falls into place between your thighs perfectly.

He reaches between you to grip his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, and he slowly starts to sink into you. “Fuck.” He exhales, his gaze flicking between watching his cock disappear into you and your face as he stretches you out.

Your eyes slip closed in bliss as he slides inside you. The thickness chasing away the lonely voids and any sense of guilt or doubt as he fills you. The pinch of pain mixing with the pleasure, making you groan in awe of Javier Peña fucking you. “Oh fuck.”

He exhales shakily as he fills you to the hilt and he takes a breath before he starts to move. It’s slow at first, your whimpers making him twitch inside you, but he is soon picking up the pace to push deep into your pussy. His hand shifting to squeeze your tit.

Every thrust of his hips feels like magic to you. Pushing, filling, only to make you lift your hips to beg for him back when he draws back again. Your nails start the slow, deep drags down his back, digging in when he hits perfectly as you moan. “Fuck, baby, so good.” You whine. “More, harder.”

He can’t deny you. This is more than he’s ever felt when he’s been with other women. You bring something out of him that has him ravenous. He groans your name and fucks you harder, his skin slapping against yours as grunts escape his lips.

You take everything, loving how he’s slowly starting to lose control. The dark pleasure in his eyes is made even hotter by the clench of his jaw. The way his teeth snap together when you clench down around him. Both of you need this, that is obvious and you make sure that you aren’t passive, wanting him to feel just as needed as you feel right now.

Your legs wrap around him, pushing him deeper into your cunt, and Javier pants, loving it. “Fuck, hermosa.” He wants you to cum for him. Adjusting the angle, he grinds his pelvis against your clit, needing to hear you fall apart.

“Oh fuck, fuck Javi.” Your eyes roll back as he changes the angle. Pressing into you perfectly and making your body sing with every roll of his hips. “I’m so close.”

He leans closer to press kisses to your jaw up to your ear, “cum for me, baby.” He demands and you cry out as you clamp down on his cock. “Shit.” He hisses at how tight you grip his cock and he tries to work you through it. Your nails dig into his skin but he doesn’t care. He slows down and kisses your neck. “So fucking good.” He murmurs and he shifts to roll over, bringing you with him. “Want you to ride me. Take what you want.” He orders, smacking your ass.

You are sprawled on top of him, your entire body limp with pleasure but you want to feel more. Kissing him, you push up off his chest, groaning at how deep he feels from this angle. “You just want to watch my tits bounce.” You tease, taking his hands and bringing them up to your breasts as you start to swivel your hips.

He chuckles, squeezing your tits and pushing them together as you start to move on top of him. “Baby, want to watch all of you bounce on top of me. Fuck. So fucking pretty.” He groans, cock twitching inside you as you rock your hips.

You’ve never felt sexier. Javier twitches and groans as you start to pick up the pace. His thighs spreading and squeezing together under you as he lifts his hips slightly, chasing the tight heat of your cunt. This is obviously a man who loves sex and you can see why. He feels incredible. “Fuck baby, so good. Fuck you have such a good cock.”

He loves your praise, his hands squeezing your tits before they slide down to grab your ass, helping you rock on top of him. "You're so goddamn gorgeous. I - fuck - thought it when we first met. Tried to ignore how gorgeous you are but you are so fucking kind. So fucking sweet." He confesses breathlessly as you grind down onto him.

“Thought you were so sexy.” You feel guilty, but push that thought away. “From the beginning, I was jealous of Lorraine. You are caring, you let her be herself.” You snort and lean down to press your lips to his. “Thought you were too good for her.”

Javier chuckles, "enough about her. Wanna focus on you." He demands, sliding his hand across your hip until his thumb is pressing against your clit. "Want to hear you moan for me again. Wanna feel that tight pussy clench." He murmurs, eyes dark as his gaze trails up to your face from your cunt.

You moan his name, loving how dirty it sounds coming out in his raspy voice. “Soaked for you.” You promise breathlessly. “Gonna cum for you.”

He groans, cock twitching and he’s close but he wants to see you fall apart again. He rubs your clit a little harder, thrusting his hips up into you, desperate to feel you clamp down on his cock again.

Your tits are pressed against his chest as you rock down on his cock desperately. Pressing his hand between your bodies as he rubs your clit. “Javier.” You whine against his lips, rocking back upright again and tossing your head back. “Javi!” You cry out in pleasure as your cunt clenches down around him and soak him with your cum.

He watches you writhe above him, eyes squeezed shut and jaw dropped as you soak his cock and he growls, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you close so he can thrust up into you. He is a man possessed as he fucks you through your high and he’s soon climbing to his own. He pants your name, thrusting up into you as he grips your skin and finally he lets out a choked version of your name as he cums, spilling into the condom.

You collapse against his chest, his arms locked around your body as you pant. Trying to catch your breath and giggling in pure bliss as you sigh. “That was fucking amazing.” You hum, turning your head and kissing his jaw.

He hums in agreement, turning his head towards you so he can kiss you, his tongue languidly sliding against yours until he gently bites down on your chin. “Better than I imagined.” He confesses with a little guilt in his tone.

“I know.” You promise, pulling back and caressing his cheek. “You just broke up with your fiancée. You feel guilty because you should have been imagining her. But I think everyone has fantasies about others. You didn’t act on it. I kissed you, and I’m sorry that I put you in that position. I was completely wrong.”

Javier takes your hand from his cheek and presses a kiss to your palm. “I shouldn’t have encouraged you.” He confesses, knowing he wasn’t in a rush to get back to Lorraine and he might have flirted a little. He shifts, rolling you over so he can pull out of you, keeping his grip on the condom before he ties it off and tosses it into the waste bin next to your bed. “I, uh, I’m not staying in Laredo.” He confesses, looking at you after he caresses your leg.

“I figured.” You admit, reaching out and stroking his side. “When you mentioned the DEA, I heard how badly you wanted to do it in your voice.” Your heart aches but you know that he can’t stay here. Not after jilting Lorraine at the altar. It’s going to be the talk of the town for months to come. “When are you leaving?” You ask softly.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs, glancing across the room, “I called the office before I came over here. I wanted to explain to you properly why I called off the wedding. Lorraine told me she was pregnant. Showed me the test she took and basically said I had to do the right thing. I knew my pa would kill me for leaving her pregnant so I had to propose. Her dad basically got the shotgun and told me what I had to do. I didn’t want to get married. Hell, I didn’t want to marry her. I was railroaded and she wasn’t even fucking pregnant.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes.

“Oh god, and when you found me buying tampons for her…..” you shake your head. “I’m so sorry, Javier.” You murmur, stroking his chest over his heart. “At least you found out before you got married, you got to break free.” You snort. “And you’re leaving, so you don’t have to put up with the backlash from leaving her.” You sigh. “There are some things I might be able to get your money back on.” You tell him. “Do you want me to send any of it back to your dad?”

Javier nods, “yeah. Give it back to my dad but don’t stress yourself out getting it back. I’m honestly glad I didn’t have to get married to her. I fell out of love with her. Watching her plan this wedding…it was all about her. What she wanted. It didn’t matter what I wanted at all and that made her ugly to me.” He admits and takes your hand in his to press a kiss to the back of it.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh softly. “Sometimes, wedding planning brings out the worst in people, or maybe it’s that it shows who they truly are at their core.” You shrug. “But now, you are going to go do what you really want to do. Go help stem the drug problems in the country.” You smile. “I think that’s incredible, Javier.”

“It’s what I feel is right, what I need to do. I told Lorraine I wanted to go but she told me to be serious and focus on making money to provide for our family. She didn’t support me.” He sighs, “but that’s over. It’s over. I’m sorry I can’t stay. If things were different…I’d take you for dinner…dancing. Treat you right.” He offers you a half smile.

“Oh god, could you imagine the scandal?” You snort, your eyes widening comically. “Lorraine would come for my head!” You giggle and shake your head, leaning up and pressing your lips to his. “I understand.” You promise. “How about I order a pizza and we drink the beer I have in my fridge?” You suggest. “Or are you more of a hamburger kind of guy?”

Javier chuckles, “I’ll eat anything but Pizza sounds good. Order it and there’s cash in my pocket. I’m paying.” He insists, shifting to stand up so he can grab his pants, pulling them on and leaving them unbuttoned. “I’ll go get the beers.” He winks and strides out of your bedroom, stepping over the strewn out clothes.

You chuckle and lean over to grab the phone off the cradle to dial the local pizza place that will deliver to you. “Hey, you want a supreme?” You call out as you dial.

“Sounds good, hermosa.” He calls back and he checks your drawer to find the bottle opener. He works fast to open the bottles and he tosses the caps before he takes the bottles and hands one to you where you’re leaning against the doorway with the phone in your hand.

“Ummmhmmm.” You hum into the phone. “Deep dish.” You raise your eyebrows at him to make sure that’s okay and smile when he nods. “Extra sauce, um, everything. A supreme.” You listen for another moment, taking a swallow of the beer and humming in pleasure. “Yeah. Okay, yeah, we’ll pay cash. Twenty minutes? Thanks.” You reach over and hang the phone up and grin. “Pie will be here in twenty minutes. Enough time to smoke and have a beer or two.”

He watches you put the phone back in the holder and he reaches for you, grabbing your waist to pull you against him. “Every fucker in Laredo is a goddamn fool if you haven’t been planning your own wedding yet.” He observes, wanting you to know what he thinks since he’s leaving tomorrow.

You smirk and let yourself lean against him. “You should be tired of weddings right now.” You remind him. “Maybe one day.” It’s not a priority for you right now, not when you are establishing your business.

Javier chuckles and nods, letting go of your waist. “You mind if I smoke in here?” He asks and you shake your head, stepping back to grab him an ashtray while he finds the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier, working fast to light on and he inhales the smoke while watching you wear the white shirt he bought for his wedding day. “I hope you don’t get shit from Lorraine.” He says after he exhales the smoke.

You know that it’s possible but you shrug. “She was too busy spinning the truth to make herself look like the victim.” You admit. “I’m afraid your own reputation is going to be mud for a while.”

Javier shrugs, walking over to tap the cigarette on the side of the ashtray. “Good thing I won’t be here to find out about the shit she says. You’ll look out for my Pa, though? Make sure he doesn’t get dragged into it when people ask you for gossip.”

“Of course.” You promise, watching as his shoulders roll down in relief and you kick your lips. The man should not be this attractive. “And I’m not going to say anything about you.”

Javier snorts, bringing the cigarette to his lips as he pulls the chair out to sit at your kitchen table. “Like I said, I won’t be here to hear the whispers but hopefully it will die down in a few months.” He says, pursing his lips to exhale the smoke. “She will bring the town on her side but it doesn’t matter. Let her process it how she wants. I’m not married to her. That’s all that matters.”

“True.” You take another sip of your beer and sigh. “You get to decide how you live your life, no nagging wife.” You chuckle. “No kids that you didn’t really want.” You don’t know if Javier wants kids ever or if he just didn’t like the idea of kids with Lorraine. It’s not really any of your business. “You can do whatever you want. Fuck whoever you want.”

Javier chuckles, nodding as he picks up the beer bottle and takes a gulp, “I love sex. I do.” He smirks and drags his eyes along your form, “and I’m going to stop these fucking cartels while you grow your business but damn if I won’t think about you while I’m alone in bed.”

“Honestly?” You tilt your head. “I don’t see you being alone in bed often.” You admit. “I can see that you’d be the type of man who needs sex to forget about his troubles.” You take another sip of your beer. “That night in the bar….I just wanted to take you into the bathroom and suck your cock.”

“Fuck.” Javier murmurs, tapping the cigarette on the ashtray as he leans back in the chair, slumping slightly. “If I was single, I wouldn’t have objected.” He confesses, “shit happens. I could be alone. If I get assigned somewhere…hell, I could be in the middle of the fucking desert with just my hand.”

“There’s a sexy image for me to think about.” You tease, winking playfully. “Javier Peña stroking his cock as he thinks about a pair of tits, a warm cunt.” You chuckle. “Maybe even mine.”

“Definitely yours.” He chuckles, feeling light despite the heavy events that have led to this moment. “Definitely. Yours.” He drags out before he snubs his smoke in the ashtray and he pats his thigh. “Wanna find out what I’ll be thinking about?” He teases, a cocky smirk on his lips.

“Absolutely.” You immediately take up the invitation. “We’ve only got one night, after all.” You won’t guilt him about it, so you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his. You’re lucky to just get tonight, he could be dancing his wedding dance to Lorraine right now.

He reaches out to caress your cheek, his tongue sliding against yours, and he is happy to have you in his lap. He groans when you tangle your fingers in his hair and he lets you tug on it, pulling his mouth from yours and his neck stretched as you tilt his head so you can kiss the skin there.

You take your time. Learning that he grunts in amusement when you kiss right below his ear, as if it tickles. His pulse quickens against your tongue. The spicy scent of his cologne is heady and you groan at the slightly salty taste of his skin.

You are worshipping his neck and he doesn't think he's ever had that before but fuck, he likes it. His cock hardens beneath you and he reaches down to squeeze your ass, rocking you on top of him.

“Ready to go again?” You giggle, continuing to kiss and nip at his skin. You’re ready, but you find yourself craving him more and more. “Think we can do it before the food arrives?”

"Gino's Pizza delivers in twenty minutes or less so we have about ten minutes. I think I can make you cum twice in that time." He smirks, grabbing your ass and he stands as he lifts you, turning to put you on top of your kitchen table. "Bend over." He orders, reaching into his pants for his wallet to grab the condom he had in there before Lorraine got pregnant. You follow his order and he tosses the wallet onto the table while he pulls his cock out and rips open the packet to roll the condom down his cock. "Nine minutes." You count and he chuckles, pushing his shirt up your hips, and he kicks your ankle to spread you wider before he positions himself and pushes into you.

The way he pushes into you makes you cry out. Gripping the edge of the table and lifting up onto your toes as you try to push back. “Fuck!” He chuckles, fingers digging into your hips as he starts to move. “Oh fuck me hard.” You beg breathlessly. “Want to feel it.” You want to feel him for days when you move or sit down, loving that ache in your pussy when you are fucked right.

He won't deny you anything right now so he starts to fuck you harder, the table scrapping against your linoleum floor as he thrusts deeper, harder, and faster. His hand grips your hip, the other pressed against your back, and his jaw is clenched. "Feel so goddamn good, baby." He murmurs, sweat starting to bead on his forehead as he gives you everything.

“M-my line.” You pants out, moaning as you turn your head to press your cheek against the cool wood of the table. You love how deep he gets, the harsh thrusts making your ass jiggle as he slams into you. You will think about it every time you sit here after he’s gone. “Fuck baby. So good.”

He grunts, nostrils flaring in the effort he’s taking to push you over the edge. He desperately wants you to cum again for him. Then again. Before you have pizza. Your ass jiggles and he can’t help letting go of your hip to smack the flesh, watching it jiggle and he squeezes it then pulls your cheek apart so he can watch his cock disappear into your greedy cunt.

“Oh god.” You whine, feeling your body pull tight as he changes the angle. Leaning back against you and holding your ass cheeks wide while he hammers into you. It’s filthy and so sexy that it makes your stomach twist as you get closer. “Gonna cum.” You manage to garble out right before you clench down around him, the wordless cry loud as you come apart.

He growls as you squeeze his cock, your cry echoing in the kitchen, and he doesn’t stop. He continues to push into your cunt that’s gripping him like a vice. He pants your name, “need you to cum again.” His hands let go of your ass and he grips your shoulders, leveraging himself to work into your pussy harder than possible.

“Oh, oh- oh fuuuuuuuuuck!” You squeal as he pushes you through your orgasm and into overstimulation. Your legs shake and you would collapse if the table wasn’t holding you up.

He carries on fucking you hard like you wanted. Your cries hit his ears but his heart is pounding as he works himself into your pussy and it squelches around his thick length as the table moves another inch from its original position.

He’s like a man possessed and it’s not long before you are winding up again. “Oh god, oh fuck, Javi!”

He loves the way you cry out his name. You’re shaking beneath him and he is fucking you like a madman. Lorraine never let him get rough. Didn’t want to get her hair messed up. He groans and grabs your thigh, lifting it onto the table so he can sink deeper, “cum for me.” He rasps his order, bending over your body to bite down on your shoulder.

The next thrust spears up against that perfect spot inside you. Making you scream in pleasure while your walls pulse around him. Soaking his cock in your cum as you start sobbing his name over and over again.

You’re gripping him so tight he can hardly push into you but he throbs, pushed over the edge with the way you’ve soaked his balls with how hard you came, and he twitches as he spills into the condom. Your name choked from his lips as he leans over you, burying his face in the back of your neck.

Both of you are silent as you try to catch your breath. The tick of the clock on the wall the only thing that you can hear until there is a knock on the door. “Just in time.” You joke, smiling when he huffs and groans against your skin.

He chuckles and shifts to grip the base of his cock, pulling out of you, and he works fast to tie off the condom. He tosses it in your trash and pulls his pants up, grabbing his wallet from the table and he makes his way to the door. He opens it and the teenager he pulled over last week for speeding has wide eyes. “Officer, uh, Peña.” He murmurs in surprise and Javier sighs, realizing he’s been spotted here. He doesn’t care about his reputation but he does care about yours. “Listen kid. I’ll give you a damn good tip if you didn’t see me here.” He says and the teenager nods, “yes sir.” Javier nods and hands him the cash plus a decent tip, taking the pizza, and he quickly shuts the door.

You see his face when he walks back into the kitchen and you bite your lip. “Everything alright?” You ask, and he nods, giving a little sigh. “Driver recognized me.” He admits as he sets the pizza on the table. “Oh.” You wince, understanding that he wouldn’t want word of this to get out. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“I- it’s not about me. Baby, I don’t care because I know the truth about what happened but I want to protect you. He’s a kid. He doesn’t know who you are so he will probably forget and I gave him a nice tip to get him to keep quiet.” He confesses, “I want to protect you. I’ll be leaving tomorrow and you’ll be here.”

“That’s sweet.” You smile and walk over to drop a kiss on his lips. “You’re sweet. And I appreciate it. Something like that could affect my business so I am glad you thought about it like that.

He nods, “he should leave it alone. Especially if he doesn’t want his momma to know that he got pulled over for speeding.” Javier chuckles and watches as you grab some plates. “I, uh, realized that I don’t really know much about you. Apart from your work and where you live. You got family nearby?” He doesn’t know of any of your family members in town.

“No.” You shake your head and chuckle, setting the plates down and opening the box before moving back to grab napkins and more beer. “I wanted to move away from family. The drama was too much for me.”

Javier nods in understanding, “I get that. Their loss.” He says as he reaches out to open the pizza box and he grabs a slice and puts it on the plate for you. “Here you go, baby.” He murmurs, setting the plate down after you sit down with the beers and napkins.

“Thank you.” You are surprised by his thoughtfulness, although maybe you shouldn’t be. “Yeah, I honestly just picked a town. I liked Laredo.”

Javier snorts, "you picked it? Christ. I have been here my whole life and I - I wasn't sure I wanted to stay here. Most guys leave by joining the army but I don't really take orders well so that was out but then I met Lorraine and then she - well, I thought she was pregnant." He shakes his head and picks up his beer, taking a swig.

“It’s not so bad.” You snort. “There’s a quiet kind of peace here.” You hum. “Sometimes I like to walk along the river at sunset and just look out at the water.”

"And see the drug mules. You gotta be careful, hermosa. You could get hurt. Don't go there at night." He orders, picking up a slice of pizza. "There's bad men out there."

You understand his concern but you huff slightly. “I know. But you’re gonna make it safer.” You point out. “So I can walk at night. Get rid of the drug mules.”

He nods, hoping that's the case, and he takes a bite of his pizza. "Just be careful, sweetheart." He says after he swallows his bite and you nod, taking your own bite.

Javier nods, “that’s a good idea but you need to go to classes. Learn how to use it. Too many people die from accidents not knowing how to use a gun. You gotta respect it. It’s a weapon.” He says, “I’ll talk to Julio at the station. He does gun safety classes for civilians.”

You hum, knowing that it is sweet that he cares. “You are going to make a lot of good changes.” You predict with a smile. “Agent Peña with the DEA.”

Javier smiles, ducking his head a little, "we will see. Maybe I'll be back here soon. If I don't pass the academy." He sighs, admitting something he was worried about.

You snort. “You’re smart.” You him. “Lorraine bragged on you, even if she didn’t understand why you got a degree in philosophy and criminal justice.” You lift a brow. “I have no doubt you will breeze through the academy.”

“Thanks.” He winks at you, picking up the pizza and you both eat in comfortable silence. It’s nice to not have the constant chatter. Lorraine never stopped talking while they would eat dinner but nothing of substance.

You notice that he finishes his beer quickly and get up to grab him another. “Here, baby.” You kiss his lips and then grab another slice of pizza. “What time are you leaving tomorrow? I’d imagine it would be pretty early.”

He nods, “gotta leave by 8 and I need to go to my pa’s to get my things.” He says and leans back in his seat as he picks up his beer. “Do you want me to go home or stay the night?” He asks, not wanting to assume.

“I’d like you to stay.” You admit selfishly. “But I understand if you want to get a jump on things.” This could never be more than what it is right now, a night. You’re grateful that you get that, so you won’t make him feel guilty for leaving. “Up to you.”

He tilts his head, reaching for your hand to squeeze it. “I want to stay. We only get one night and I want to be here.” He says, “is that okay?” You nod and he smiles, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it.

The pizza is put up and dishes cleared away. Javier helps throw away the trash and you smile at how easy this is with him. “Let’s go back to bed.” You suggest with a grin. “Still have to suck your cock.”

He smirks, wiping his hands on the dish cloth after he washed them, and he reaches for you. “You are a devil.” He teases, his hands squeezing your hips and they slide down to your ass to pull you against his body. “Too beautiful for your own good.”

“Don’t know about that, Peña.” You tease. “But your last night here in Laredo is going to be spent in my bed and I damn sure plan on making it memorable.”

****

Javier groans as he glances at your alarm clock. It’s six in the morning. He blinks a few times, his hair all over the place, and he turns to look at you. You’re still sleeping and he shifts to kiss you, wanting to wake you up so he can say goodbye.

“Hmmmmm.” You are drawn out of your sleep slowly, feeling the warmth from his touch as you come to. Smiling to yourself as your eyes start to flutter open. “Mornin’.” You mumble, kissing him back after the next kiss and you feel him roll you onto your back. “What time is it?”

“Six.” He answers, kissing your jaw, “wanted to say goodbye before I left.” He says, kissing your neck, and he shifts between your thighs, his hand squeezing your breast through your tank top.

You want to pull him close, beg him to stay a little longer, but you can’t do that to him. It wouldn’t be fair. He has a dream, a goal and you wouldn’t try to manipulate him like Lorraine had. “Should make some coffee.” You moan when you feel that he’s already hard, wanting you again.

“Let me say goodbye to you properly.” He demands, shifting under the covers and he wastes no time pulling your panties aside so he can slide his tongue through your folds.

Your stomach immediately starts to clench, it doesn’t matter how many times you came last night, your body responds to him. “Javi, fuck.” You gasp out, reaching down and tangling your fingers in his hair. “Oh fuck. Hell of a goodbye.”

He chuckles against your flesh and flicks his tongue over your clit. He sucks it between his lips and his hand slides up to drag your tank top down, squeezing your breast when it’s free from the material.

He loves tits, but he also seems to be an ass man. Or maybe it’s just that he loves a woman’s body. You have never felt more appreciated, more worshipped than you have over the past few hours. Your hand covers his and you moan his name.

He loves the way you moan his name, his tongue sliding through your folds until he’s pushing it into your cunt. His nose pressing against your clit, and he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair.

The way he lazily eats your cunt is almost deceptive. You would think that it would take so long to get worked up, but every flick of his tongue is so perfectly placed, already leaned what makes you shake. You whine as he pushes his tongue deep. “Fuck baby, I’m gonna miss that mouth.” You pant,

He groans into your flesh in agreement. He’s only just had you but he’s going to miss you. This pussy. He will definitely be thinking about you when he’s alone. He slides his tongue up and takes your clit between his lips, sucking in an effort to push you over the edge.

Your eyes close and his name becomes a prayer, chanted out again and again as he rolls you closer to cumming. Every push of his tongue makes you until he sucks one last time to send you careening into space as stars burst behind your lids. “Javi!”

He groans at the way your thigh clamp down around his head and he works you through it, lapping at your soaked pussy, pushing his tongue into you to lap it up while you relax beneath him.

“Oh god.” You pant, chest heaving and you lift the covers to look down at him. “One more time.” You hum with a grin, “I want to feel you inside me one more time before you go.”

He nods, shifting up your body, and his cock is aching. He didn’t wear anything in bed so he is pressing against your thigh while he kisses your neck. “Baby. Get a condom.” He orders against your skin.

You moan in agreement, shifting the side to open the drawer and fish around in it. “Last one.” You hum, pulling out the box and one final rubber to press into his hand. “Fitting.”

He chuckles, taking it from you to rip it open and he works fast to roll it down his cock. He inhales deeply as he shifts to position the head at your entrance and he slowly pushes into you. His eyes adjusted to the dark so he can see your face as he pushes into your pussy. “Fuck baby. So goddamn tight.” He hisses, stretching you out and he leans down to press his lips to yours.

You feel the pinch, knowing that you are going to be sore after this, but you wouldn’t stop him for anything in the world. “Just for you.” You moan breathlessly, clenching down around him and giggling when he hisses again. “Gotta keep you pining for home when you leave.” You tease, reaching up to caress his side. “Promise me you will be careful, Javier.”

He nods, knowing he can’t really promise that but he wants to give you something. He rocks into you, his hand grabbing your thigh to lift it higher so he can press into you. “But I’ll think of you, of this pussy.” He promises, sinking deeper into you.

“Yessssssss.” You hiss, tilting your head back as he completely takes over. “I’ll be thinking about you.” You promise, knowing that the specter of his presence in your bed will be felt long after you are a distant memory in his mind. “So good, Javier.”

Your praise rings in his ears and he grunts, grabbing your other thigh and he lifts your legs onto his shoulders. “Wanna see you cum again.” He groans, bending you over. He wants to wreck you, leave you aching for him when he goes.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes widen in surprise, but immediately you are moaning from how good he feels. Your walls are tighter around his thrusting cock and he is hitting something inside you that has you squealing when he drives into you again.

Your cries are loud in the early morning air and he loves it. Grunts escaping his lips as he fucks you harder and your cunt starts to squelch, fluttering around his cock as you get closer to your high. “Cum for me, baby.” He orders through clenched teeth.

His neck muscles are bulging and he looks magnificent in the soft light of daybreak. It contrasts with the concentration and dark look in his eyes as he fucks you. Your nails dig into his forearms as he hammers into you, pushing deep when you cry out again, your cunt soaking him and you feel the wave of your juices soak his stomach.

“Fuckkkk.” He groans, looking down at his stomach as you squirt over his cock. “Fuck, hermosa. Look at that.” He murmurs, continuing to fuck into you. The squelching noise is deafening as you cry out and he pushes deep, chasing his own orgasm.

You continue to spasm and squeak as he fucks you. Your body tensing and bowing in pleasure while he thrusts in and out of you at a pace that has your tits shaking. “Javi, Javi, Javviiiiiiiiiii!”

He pants, thrusting to work you through it but it only takes a few rocks of his hips for him to let out a guttural groan. He buries his cock deep and his cock throbs as he spills into the condom. He struggles to keep his body from smothering yours and his arms shake next to your head.

You moan as you watch him ride out his pleasure. Almost wishing you could feel the heat of his seed as he filled you up, but you couldn’t ask for that. Especially after what Lorraine had put him through. You honestly wonder if she had meant to trap him. Have him get her pregnant between telling him she was and the wedding so there would only be a little bit of time to fudge. Or if she had been hoping for a convenient ‘miscarriage’ right after. “So good, baby.” You coo. “Best fucking sex I’ve ever had.”

He smiles, nudging your nose against his, and he kisses you softly. “Glad my fantasies came true.” He murmurs, “you - shit - exceeded them.” He assures you and he grunts as he reaches down to grip the base of his cock. His skin is drying from your cum and he slowly pulls out of you so he can tie off the condom. He slumps on the bed next to you, catching his breath for a moment.

You chuckle and curl into his side, pressing your lips to his chest. “Do you want to take a shower while I make some coffee?” You ask. You know he needs to leave, but you don’t want to send him off back to his dad’s without some caffeine at least.

He nods, kissing your forehead before he shifts off the bed. He wants to ask you to join him but he can’t. He needs to focus now and get ready to leave town. He showers quickly, redressing in the clothes you found and left on the bed for him, and he makes his way out into the kitchen to find you there pouring a cup of coffee. “I’m not sure how you like it.” You say and he smiles, “this is good.” He takes a sip and leans against the counter.

You had wrapped your body up in a robe, but you don’t think that he cares about that. He groans in pleasure and you smile after taking a sip of your own coffee. “Well, I have to tell you that I had an amazing night.” You admit shamelessly. “I’m happy that you stayed.”

He nods, “me too. I’m - I’m sorry I can’t stay and give you more but I think it’s for the best this way.” He says, “we can’t - I don’t want you to get shit because of me. You deserve better than that. Deserve better than me.” He sighs, looking down at the cup in his hand.

“Don’t apologize for following your dreams.” You reach out and touch his hand, making him look up at you. “But I don’t think I deserve better.” You shrug. “It’s just the wrong time. That’s all.”

Javier nods, setting his cup down, and he cups your cheeks, “wrong time.” He agrees and leans closer to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Thank you, hermosa.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead.

“Nothing to thank me for.” You promise, smiling at him as he pulls back. “You are supposed to leave Laredo.”

He pulls back and takes another look at you before he wipes his hands on his pants. “I better go. I need to get my shit from my pa’s.” He says and cups your cheek one last time. “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.” He winks at you, grabbing his keys from your kitchen table and he walks towards the front door.

You set your coffee down and trail after him. “Be safe, Javier.” You murmur as he reaches for the door. “I’ll be praying for you.”

He turns to look at you one last time, nodding and offering you a wink as he leaves your house as the sun rises in the sky. He heads home and gets his stuff, hugging his Pa goodbye. “I’ll handle Lorraine and the wedding stuff. Chase your dream, mijo.” Chucho tells his son who hugs him again and gets into his truck. Javier watches the sun shine as he drives down the highway to make his way to Houston. A new beginning and a new career. He’s ready to kick some cartel ass.

****

“Yesssss.” You laugh into the phone, loving how relaxed the couple is. It’s been a lot of fun planning the young couple’s wedding. “There are plenty of cases of beer.” You promise. “I’ll even stash an extra case in the trunk of my car as back up, okay?” Since he’s a Marine, the groom hasn’t been able to be present for the planning of the wedding but he’s called a few times with his own requests, simple as they might be. “We can get all of Laredo drunk, or maybe just you and a few of your Marine buddies, alright?”

Danny chuckles, “nah, it’s gotta be all of Laredo. Especially my cousin. He’s been a boring fucker since he got back from overseas. Gotta make sure he gets some beers in him.” You chuckle, “sure thing. Consider it done.” Danny thanks you and you smile, happy for the young couple getting married this weekend.

****

Javier sighs as he walks into the reception hall, wiping his hands on his jeans as he follows his pa into the beautifully decorated hall. His cousin Danny and his new wife are taking photos outside. Chucho slaps Javier on the shoulder, “let’s get you beer, mijo.” Javier nods, making his way over to the bar and that’s when he sees you. You are adjusting some flowers on a table display and his heart stops. You look beautiful, as always, and his heart beats hard when your eyes meet his when you look up.

“Javier.” His name falls off your lips in surprise. Eyes widening when you see him again. He is still devastatingly handsome. His dark eyes held more sorrow, more heartache than you had seen when he walked out your door so many years ago. You had forgotten that Danny was related to Javier, even when you had run into Chucho a few weeks ago and talked about the upcoming wedding.

He pats his father on the shoulder and makes his way over to you. You’re a sight for sore eyes and after everything that went down in Colombia, he offers you a tilt of his head and smiles as he says your name. “Should’ve known it was you planning the wedding. It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You fiddle with the flowers and look at him again. “Although I can’t claim too much credit. They knew what they wanted and it was just perfect for them.” You bite your lip, wanting to ask him why he suddenly stopped appearing in the newspapers about Pablo Escobar, but you don’t. “How are things?” You ask instead.

He half smirks, tilting his head, “things are…well, let’s just say I could use a beer.” He chuckles, “Colombia was not what I expected.” He confesses and reaches up to rub the back of his neck, looking around as the drinks start to flow. “How have you been doing?”

“I’ve been good.” You can tell that he’s a little unsure of himself so you step over to the bar and grab a Budweiser. “Still drink these?” You ask, holding it up. When Javier nods, you use the bottle opener you keep in your pocket and hand it to him. “Now that your first wish is granted, what else can I do for you?” You ask playfully.

“Dance with me.” He blurts out, unable to stop himself, “later, I mean. When the band plays. I want to -” He clears his throat and takes a sip of his beer, “want to catch up.” He says and he glances over to see Lorraine walking into the hall with her husband. Some big oil guy from Dallas. Javier exhales deeply and turns back towards you.

You follow his eyes. “Of course.” You wonder if he had heard about Lorraine getting married but you doubt he’s very upset. “As soon as they get done with pictures, they will greet everyone and then start the dancing.”

“I guess you didn’t get invited back to plan that wedding.” Javier chuckles softly, “did she - was there any hassle after I left - after everything that went down?”

“Nothing except me nearly biting my tongue off to keep from exposing all her bullshit.” You huff, shaking your head. “Although it was really hard not to. She moved on pretty quick though.”

Javier snorts, “yeah. I heard about what she was saying after I left town. I was the bad guy but whatever…she got her happy ending.” You tilt your head, “and what about you?” Javier chuckles, rubbing his jaw, “I don’t think I get a happy ending.”

That breaks your heart, especially since you know that Javier is a kind and wonderful man. Sometimes a little too dry or serious, but who wouldn’t be, given the type of work he does? You kept up with the news articles when you heard Javier was down in Colombia. The horrors that happened down there. You can’t even imagine what he was going through. You sigh. “You do.” You promise, smiling at him. “You just have to find it. You are too good a man to not deserve a happy ending.”

Javier shakes his head, “I don’t know. I guess we will see.” He says and takes a sip of his beer. “Did you…have you found your happy ending?” He asks, curious if you’ve found a boyfriend. He has no right to be jealous when it’s been years but he knows he’d be disappointed to find out you’re taken.

You laugh slightly as you shake your head. “Nope.” You admit, shrugging it off as if it was no big deal even though you honestly worried if you were destined to be alone. “Still planning everyone else’s happily ever after and not my own.” You tease.

“You’ll be fine, baby.” He promises, “just gotta get some of these assholes to realize what’s under their nose.” He sips his beer and turns when your assistant comes over to tell you the bride and groom are ready. “Showtime. Ill, uh, see you later.” You promise and he nods, thinking about the dance you promised him and he watches you walk off.

Javier is here. You can’t believe it. You had heard about him of course. The same people who had gossiped about him when he had left town and dragged his name through the mud had bragged on him. Boasted about his work as if it was their own or they helped him. You had bitten your tongue and wished that you could call or write to him, just to remind him that you were still praying for his safety. You hadn’t stopped thinking about that one night you had together.

Javier watches you as you rush around making sure everything is beautiful for Danny and Maria and he smiles, appreciating how much effort you put in. “Beautiful.” He murmurs to himself and Chucho comes over, patting his son on the shoulder. Javier claps as the couple walks into the reception hall.

“She hasn’t really dated.” Chucho offers, seeing the way that his son’s eyes drift towards you again and again. He had wondered if something happened before Javier left for the DEA. He hadn’t come home the night of his missed wedding and when he had come home that morning, he smelled like the shampoo you seem to favor. Not that it was his business, you nor Javi were the type to cheat and he had ended things with Lorraine when he hadn’t shown up to the church. Still, he always wondered if you were waiting on his wayward son. “Can’t remember anyone.”

Javier isn’t sure if he’s pleased or upset that you haven’t dated anyone. He hates to think of you alone but he is pleased that he doesn’t have to stay away from you. He hums and his Pa chuckles, nudging him as he sips his beer. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t even know what I’m doing next. The DEA put me on the shelf until they decide what my fate is. I can’t drag her into my bullshit.”

“Mijo….” Chucho sighs. “I never said anything about letting the other one go because she wasn’t right for you.” He reminds Javier. “But that one….” He takes another sip of his beer. “She’s exactly what you need. Your mother would have loved her.”

Javier grips his beer bottle a little tighter, his stomach twisting, and he watches you as you prepare for Danny and Maria’s entrance. “She is too good for me. Always has been. She said - we spent the night together after I told Lorraine it was over. She said - it was the wrong time. Is it still the wrong time?” Javier asks his father like he is needing him to figure everything out, to tell him what to do.

“Last time you were at a crossroads in your life.” Chucho reminds him. “Much like now, except you have a better grasp on yourself. She obviously has the skills to soothe you and leave an impression.”

Javier snorts, "that's one way to put it. She - she never left my mind." He admits and Chucho chuckles, "or your heart from the sounds of it." Javier doesn't answer and thankfully he doesn't need to as the band announce Danny and Maria and Javier shifts his beer bottle to the nearest table so he can clap for his newly married cousin.

You move over to the buffet to make sure that you’ve got plates made for the happy couple. They will have to snack between conversations but you want them to have some of the delicious foods that had been prepared. Turning and humming in surprise when you see Lorraine. You know she had been invited, but you didn’t think she was going to show.

Lorraine isn’t surprised to see you there. You’ve become more successful and well known in town - hell, she’s heard you’ve planned weddings in Dallas - after her disaster of a wedding. She says your name, “it’s a beautiful day.” She offers you a stiff smile, “although I probably would’ve told them to go with silver instead of gold.” She hums, looking at the table settings. “At least this wedding happened under your planning.”

You expected some kind of comment, of course. Knowing that Lorraine isn’t the type of woman to be able to help herself. “So true.” You give a casual shrug. “Actually that is the only wedding that I’ve planned that didn’t happen. And ironic that both of you are here.”

Lorraine’s eyes widen and her head swivels comically as she looks over at Javier who is talking to Danny and his new wife. “Can’t believe he’s finally shown his face.” She scoffs and ignores you as she makes her way over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck.

You figure you should probably warn Javier, but then you see his eyes wander around the room, finding Lorraine. He doesn’t look surprised to see her, although it’s hard to tell what he’s thinking. He’s very good at keeping his thoughts to himself. Instead of worrying about it, you move over to make sure that the photographer has pictures of the wedding cake.

The food and booze are soon flowing and Javier greets his third cousin while sitting next to his dad at their assigned table. He sees you rushing around, fixing Maria's dress, fixing flowers, and making sure the food is refilled in the buffet. You walk past Javier and he can't help but wink at you, letting you know he's watching.

That wink. It will be the death of you. Your entire body heats up at his attention and you try to smother the smile on your face, but it’s hard so you just pretend that it’s wedding happiness. That you aren’t seeking out the gaze of a certain man. He looks damn good in that red plaid shirt and crisp jeans. Making your mouth water as you remember every second of the one night you spent together.

The food is soon eaten and the band begins to play so Danny and Maria can have their first dance then cut the cake. Javier sips his beer as the couple dance, looking lovingly into each other's eyes and then they move over to the display table to cut the cake. When the traditions are done and cake is eaten, the dance floor gets busy and Javier looks around for you after he stands up.

“Be careful.” You decide that instead of instructing them on what to do, you will politely nudge them out of the way and do it yourself. “The cake has to be wrapped so it will last.” You explain. “They will have the top layer of the wedding cake on their first anniversary.”

Javier slowly makes his way over to you as you finalize the storing of the top layer so the happy couple can enjoy it on their anniversary. "Best cake I've had in a long time. New baker in town? I don't remember the cake being that good when I tried the samples." He says, tilting his head.

You turn towards him and smile. “I baked it.” You confess. “The baker I normally use got sick and it was too late to find a replacement.” It hadn’t been a big deal, the baking was easy, the assembly was what had taken the longest.

Javier raises his eyebrows, "goddamn. Beauty and cooking skills." He smirks, "are the men in Laredo stupid?" He asks and you chuckle, looking down at your shoes for a second, "well...the only one I ever liked left for Colombia." Javier licks his lips, rocking on his heels for a moment, "he was a fool trying to stop a never ending cycle. He left the best thing that ever happened to him in this town." He admits, rubbing his neck.

Looking up, you try not to smile, but it’s hard when he just said something so sweet to you. “You had to go. For you. I understood that, understand it now.” You promise. “Are you back for long?”

Javier tilts his head, “I don’t know. I’ve been put on official leave by the DEA. I’m not sure but I’m going to be called to D.C for a review by the board. Then I’ll know if I’m back helping my pa or if I’m still working for the DEA.”

“Because of the Judy Moncado thing?” You ask, tilting your head and smirking as his eyes widen in surprise. “I kept up with you. Or tried to. I wondered what happened when you went dark in the papers but then that article came out.”

Javier nods, “it was a shit show. I- I was frustrated. Tried to cut corners, skip bureaucracy and sink down to their level and it backfired on me.” He confesses, scratching his jaw, “still…they got him in the end.” You sigh, “yeah but you weren’t there after all your hard work.” Javier shrugs, “I know what I did to contribute.” He promises and glances over at the dance floor, “do you, uh, maybe wanna dance?”

“Absolutely.” You would never turn down a dance with Javier and you set down your drink and reach for his hand. “Let’s dance, handsome. I want to hear about you. Not your cases or Escobar, but about you.” You clarify. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing outside of catching bad guys.”

Javier guides you onto the dance floor while the band singer croons, allowing Javier to pull you closer, and his hand is on your back with one hand in yours. “I- I wasn’t - the sicarios used to frequent the brothels so I’d - I’d do the same trying to get information.” He confesses, his dark eyes on yours as he tells you the truth.

You aren’t stupid, you knew that Javier wouldn’t be celibate while he was off living his life. You’ve had a couple of lovers, but nothing worth noting. Your life has just been a lot tamer than his. “That’s smart.” You hum. “Hopefully they could help you and provide some comfort.”

“An escape.” He corrects you, “I saw - it was rough and I buried myself in work and whiskey and - well, it was all for nothing now. Escobar may be dead but others will take his place. It never ends.” He sighs, pulling you closer.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur softly. “I’m sure it wasn’t for nothing. There were real people saved by your work. Even if it’s just one, it’s one more than would have been if you hadn’t been there.”

Javier nods, glancing over at Lorraine and her husband who are tending to their kids. "It's done now. I am trying to not hold on to the past." He admits, swaying you to the music, and his dark eyes meet yours, "but some things just won't go away."

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, slightly breathless at how mesmerizing his stare is.

Javier chuckles softly, “I don’t know. I- I don’t know what my future is, so I don’t want to drag you into my bullshit but I didn’t stop thinking about you, about that night. I’d like to get to know you more.” He confesses softly as the song comes to an end.

“I don’t care what your bullshit is.” You admit, smiling back at him. “I kept you in my prayers the entire time you were gone. And hoped that you were finding peace.” Your fingers caress his arm. “Do you want to go out for a drink after the reception?”

Javier nods, “I’d like that.” He offers you a soft smile just as his tía comes over to grab you. “Sweetheart, the drinks are getting low. We got more stored up?” She asks and you chuckle, “we are fully stocked. I’ll get it sorted.” You look at Javier and he nods, winking at you and he turns on the dance floor, near Danny and Maria, and he sees Lorraine. He decides it’s time to talk to her and he makes his way over to where she is standing with a glass of red wine in her hand. “Lorraine.” He greets her calm and cool.

Lorraine looks up at Javier and hates that he still looks so damn handsome. “About time you showed your face.” She hums as she lifts her glass to take a sip. “Good to see you, Jay.”

He shoves his hands in his jeans, “you, uh, you got your happy ending?” He asks, his gaze drifting over to her husband, and she smiles. “Yeah. I- I did. We weren’t supposed to be together. I see that now and I- it all worked out in the end.” She hums and Javier nods, “yeah. I’m glad you’re happy.” He says, telling her he doesn’t hold that over her anymore. He didn’t want to marry her. She got her happy ending. It worked out. “I’m very happy.” Lorraine says with a little bite to it, “good.” Javier nods, “I’ll see you around.” He nods to her husband as he approaches and Javier makes his way back to his Pa, counting down the time until the wedding is over so he can see you again.

Several times you look over to find Javier watching you. Making you smile and wave as you try to finish up the wedding activities so you can spend time with him. You see the interaction with Lorraine and you wonder how he feels about it. It didn’t seem to be acrimonious, which is a good thing. Finally, the couple rush off to their cars in a shower of birdseed and you walk over to where Javi is standing. “I’m done.” You tell him. “The clean up will wait until tomorrow.”

Javier grins, “good. You got your car? My Pa drove.” He says, knowing you might want to take your car so you’re in control. He glances around as the crowd begins to get into their cars and he sees his Pa.

“You can ride with me, mister DEA.” You hum teasingly, holding up your keys after your fish them out of a discreet pocket in your dress. “Where you want to go?”

Javier chuckles at your nickname and he wraps his arm around your waist as you walk towards his Pa. “What about that bar we met in that night?” He suggests and Chucho smirks as Javier appears in front of him. “I guess I’ll be driving home alone tonight…good news for me. Haven’t got to listen to your loud thoughts.” Chucho teases and Javier snorts, “I don’t think that much.” Chucho adjusts his hat, “that boy could put Aristotle to shame.” Javier rolls his eyes, “okay Pa. We are going for a drink.” Chucho nods, “have fun kids.” Javier squeezes your waist and lets you guide him to your car.

“So do you want to drive?” You ask him seriously. “I don’t know if you have issues where you like to be in control?” You ask gently. You know he has to have seen some shit and you want him to be comfortable.

Javier shakes his head, "I trust you. It's other people I don't trust, but baby...you can drive." He tilts his head, appreciating how considerate you are.

“Okay.” You reach your car and unlock the doors. “What made you decide to come to the wedding?” You ask curiously. “I can’t imagine you have a fondness for them.”

Javier snorts, opening the door for you to get in, "just my own." He quips, "but I love Danny. Practically changed his diapers and my tía...she was there for me after my mom died. I had to see Danny get married...even if weddings aren't my thing." He confesses, "look at us...you plan weddings...I run from them."

You snort and shake your head. “You ran from a lie.” You defend. “I think that despite your past, you are a ‘til death do us part’ kind of man and divorce isn’t an option. Lorraine knew that.”

He stands under the parking lot lights, his hand on your door, surprised at the way you just cut him open and found out who he is. He's been branded the casanova, the man whore who slept his way through Colombia, but you...you see that he can be more than that for the right woman. He can't help it. He lets go of your door, cups your cheeks, and surges forward to kiss you.

Your surprise quickly turns into desire. Moaning softly into his mouth when he opens up to slide his tongue against yours. You had expected the night to end like this, but you don’t mind it happening now.

His hands pull you close, enjoying the feel of your body against his, and his tongue caresses yours. You kiss for several moments until he pulls back, pecking your lips, and he nudges his nose with yours. "Drinks are on me." He murmurs, not wanting to assume you want him to go back to yours.

You hum softly. “That’s almost disappointing.” You admit breathlessly. “I was honestly hoping we weren’t going for drinks.” It’s probably wrong to assume he wants to jump into bed with you. It’s been years and he’s had a lot happen. You peck his lips again and pull away. “First round is on you. Then I’ll buy you a drink. Men should be treated too.”

Your words run on a loop in his head as you settle in your car and he shuts your door, walking around the back of the car to open the door and slide into the passenger seat. “Baby. Look at me.” He orders and you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face that makes his heart race. “I want a drink at your place. Not the bar.”

“That sounds perfect to me.” You slide the key into the ignition and turn it. “You were sexy in the tuxedo, but you are even sexier in those jeans and boots.”

He can’t help but smirk, watching as you back out of the space and he leans back in his seat, happy to be driven. “You’re always sexy. In anything.” He confesses, eyeing the cute dress you’re wearing. “Even when you’re trying to be professional.”

“I think you might be biased.” You tease, looking over at him for a second before turning your attention back to the road. “Considering you’re the only groom I’ve ever thought about sleeping with, I’m pretty biased too. It was hard being professional around you.”

Javier snorts, rubbing his jaw as he turns to look out the window. “It feels like a lifetime ago since I was a groom. A lot of shit has happened since then but one thing hasn’t changed…I thought you were the prettiest damn thing I’d ever seen that day Lorraine introduced us. Felt goddamn guilty for that when I believed Lorraine was having my baby, but now? That thought is flashing in my brain.”

“I’m sure there were plenty of beautiful women around you.” You reach out and squeeze his knee. “You seem to attract them. Several women at the wedding kept watching you. Wondering who you were and how you could be so handsome.”

“Beautiful women, yes…beautiful on the inside? Not as much as you. There was one woman…her name is Helena. She - I’d give her money in exchange for information and we - she kept me company. I got her swept up in some bullshit meeting and she…we had to fight to get her back and when we did…she was never the same.” Javier confesses, reaching for the hand on his hand to take it in his.

You hear the pain in his voice, the regret. Something bad happened to her and he blames himself. “But you got her back.” You murmur softly. “You cared enough to fight. That’s more than some people, most people.” You sigh. “You are a good man, Javier. I’ve always thought so.”

He finds it hard to believe, the flash of Helena on the floor in that apartment makes him feel sick, but your hand in his chases that away. Helena is safe with her son. He got her out. “I’ve done a lot of bad things, baby, but I’m trying to be better. I want to be better.”

“We all do bad things sometimes.” You know that his are probably darker than most, but he was going after cruel and ruthless men. “All that matters is your future.”

He offers you a half smile, squeezing your hand, and he lets go so you can drive to your house. The radio plays and he looks out the window as Laredo passes by. So much has changed within him but his town is exactly the same as when he left it. He is a different man. Jaded and heavy with guilt and regret, but you are here. He wants to be better.

It doesn’t take long for you to pull up to your house, it’s the same one that Javier had been parked in front of when he left Lorraine at the altar. “Home sweet home.” You joke, pulling into the driveway and parking. “Except this time, I have better booze than just beer.”

Javier chuckles, "beer suits me just fine but I'll drink anything. Except gin." He wrinkles his nose, "never could get into gin." He confesses and opens the door, getting out of your car and he hangs back as you lock your car and walk to your front door. He's a little nervous. He can't deny that. He's thought about you so many times and now he's here. You unlock your door and he follows you inside, "you've painted." He observes, glancing around your living room.

“Yeah.” You haven’t done much to the place as far as redecorating, but changing the paint freshened it up. “Surprised you noticed.” You admit with a grin. “We were….busy when you were here last time.” You set your purse down on the entry table and lock the door behind Javier. “Beer?”

Javier chuckles, “still noticed the little things. Wanted to memorize that night.” He confesses and nods, watching you kick off your shoes before you make your way over to the fridge. He takes his boots off, leaving them by the front door, and he decides to make his way to your sofa. He’s a little on edge, unsure of what to do or say when you didn’t really do anything but act on your lust when he saw you last time.

You take a minute to compose yourself before you grab the beers. A little nervous since this is more than just a night of desire. You decide that you will let him lead the night and come back out into the living room to find him sitting and waiting for you. “Do you want to watch tv, talk?” You ask, bringing the beers over. “I’m not exactly sure what you want to do.”

He takes the beer from your hand, thanking you, and you settle down on the sofa next to him with expectant eyes. “I want to talk. I want to know more about you.” He decides, knowing this return home is supposed to be a fresh start for him and he wants to try and do things differently this time.

“Okay.” You smile, finding it sweet that he is making an effort to talk. “Well, while you’ve been gone, I’ve expanded my business.” You admit. “I have two coordinators that work for me, planning weddings when I am doing other events. It’s lucky that I was even at the wedding today, to be honest.”

Javier’s eyebrows raise, “wow. That’s - that’s incredible.” He compliments you, “you’ve done so well and you deserve it. You’re damn good at your job.” He compliments you with a wink. “I loved how passionate you were and you managed to control Lorraine when she wanted to go over budget.”

You sigh softly. “I wish I could have controlled her better.” You admit. “She would go off on tangents, and to be honest? Her wedding colors clashed horrendously.”

Javier chuckles, “fucking awful. I know nothing about weddings but even I could see it clashed. She didn’t care about how it looked as long as it was the most expensive.” He shakes his head, “I’m sure her new husband got stung by her taste for money.” He snorts and you tilt your head, “jealous?” Javier shakes his head, “absolutely not. We were not - I didn’t even want to marry her.” He rubs his hands on his jeans, “and seeing you. How sweet you are. How beautiful you are inside and out made me realize what a mistake I was making but I thought she was having my kid and I couldn’t walk away from that.”

“Hmmmmm.” You take a sip of your beer and tuck your feet up under you as you turn towards him. “And you think you aren’t a good man.” You huff. “You stepped up, even if you didn’t want that life, some men wouldn’t. Most men wouldn’t. You could have just easily told her it wasn’t your problem. But you didn’t.” The entire point was useless since she was never actually pregnant, but he had believed she was.

He smiles softly after he takes a sip of his beer, “always been fighting my corner. That’s why you’re too damn good for me. I’ll just disappoint you.” He confesses, “I’m good for sex. Emotions? Not really my wheelhouse but I know how I feel about you.” He confesses, his eyes meeting yours as he lays himself bare.

“And how do you feel?” You ask curiously. “Because I’ve never been a grand gesture kind of woman.” You confess, leaning in as you grin. “I would actually hate ninety-eight percent of the weddings I plan. I want a man who might not give me flowers ever, but listens when I talk about my day.” You hum. “He might not tell me he loves me every ten seconds but he shows me when he touches me.”

"I've never been a man who envisioned himself having a marriage like my parents. Especially after seeing how much my momma and my pa loved each other. I wasn't - I wasn't a good man in Colombia. Whenever I do take a moment to imagine a future married...any kids...I always see you." He admits, "I might not talk about my feelings but I can show you."

“Then you’ll show me.” You decide, setting your beer down and scooting closer to him. “I don’t have to have words.” You promise. “Not all the time, even if I give them to you.”

He looks at you, seeing a future he never imagined and still doesn’t believe he deserves, but he can’t help but lean forward. He reaches out to cup your cheek, leaning in to softly kiss you.

You don’t pull away or lunge forward. You let him slowly kiss you. Less hunger in his lips than the last time, but there is a tenderness that has you sighing into the kiss. Your lips curving up in a smile.

He caresses your cheek with his thumb, his lips slide against yours and his tongue pushes into your mouth. He groans into your mouth, chasing the memories of the night he left Lorraine and you are giving that to him.

The first moan is so soft, breathed into his mouth as you shuffle closer. Pressing against him and reaching up to caress his shoulders. He said he was good at sex, but he’s also incredible at making you feel like the only woman on the planet.

The kiss is slow, lazy slides of his tongue against yours, while his hand caresses down to your neck. He groans, blindly setting his beer down and he reaches for you, grabbing your ass to drag you into his lap.

You squeal slightly, but it’s amazing how easily you are transferred into his lap. Pulling away breathlessly to grin at him before you duck your head down to kiss him again. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

He chuckles against your lips, “so are you. Fuck. Thought about you so many goddamn times.” He confesses, his hands sliding under your dress and under your panties to squeeze your flesh. His lips press against your jaw and down your neck, enjoying the gasps and moans that escape your lips.

“Now you have me.” You hum, tilting your head to let him do whatever he wants to your neck. “You can do all those things that you’ve thought about. I’m very willing.”

“You have me.” He grunts against your collarbone, “have you had any thoughts? I’m all yours. You can do what you want to me.” He counters with a smirk against your skin.

“You shouldn’t tell me that.” You groan, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Never did get to suck your cock like I wanted to, but I think I’ll just ride it right now.”

“Take me how you want. Got tested when I came back. All clean.” He reveals, pressing a kiss to your throat as you look at him, “ride my cock, suck it. Sit on my face. I’ll willingly let you do it all.”

“Oh god.” You moan. “Let me strip you down. Kiss up and down your body and suck your cock until you are begging to feel my pussy wrapped around it.”

“Fuck.” He pants, nodding and breathless as you shift off of him. He fumbles, working fast to unbutton his shirt as you stand up to grip the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head. “So fucking pretty.” He murmurs, dragging his eyes down your body as he shrugs off his shirt.

You reach out and push the material of his shirt off his broad shoulders. Finding that his body has softened slightly, not as lean as he was before and you love it. You wonder if he knows how sexy he is as you lean in and kiss along his collar bone.

“Jesus.” He pants, eyes closing slowly as he tilts his head back while you do what you want to his body. His cock is already hardening and he groans your name when you kiss his neck.

“That’s right.” You hum, scrapping your teeth over his skin and smirking when you feel him shudder. “I’m going to make you forget everything but my name. And how good I make you feel.” Your fingers slide the end of his belt free of the loop and you start working on unbuckling it. “Burned up so many vibrators thinking about this cock. How good you felt inside me.”

He lets you do what you want. Last time he was in control but right now, he’s happy to let you take the lead. He groans when you work on unzipping his pants and he almost chokes when you pull his cock out to wrap your fingers around it. “Thought about you when I had lonely nights with my hand around my cock.”

“Can’t believe you had too many of those.” You praise, leaning down and spitting on the tip before kissing your way back up his stomach as you steer him back towards the couch again.

“Plenty to think of you.” He promises, breathless and you start to pump his cock. “Fuck. You’re so goddamn pretty.” He murmurs, watching you and he leans in to kiss you but you pull back, a smirk on your face that makes him twitch in your hand.

“Be a good boy for me.” You coo playfully, not minding really if he takes over but you feel like he deserves to let loose. To give control over to someone else and just let the pleasure cloud his mind of all those bad memories. He sinks back onto the sofa and you continue to pump his cock as you kneel down between his spread thighs.

His dark eyes watch you as you shift between his thighs, cock leaking pre-cum as he twitches again, and when you finally take him into your mouth, he lets out a guttural groan, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallows.

He’s salty and musky. Delicious on your tongue as you slowly take him deeper and then pull back to release him with a pop.

You look like a goddamn angel and devil in one as you smirk at him before you take him back into your mouth. His hands grip the edge of your sofa cushion and he is transfixed by you.

You can tell he likes it. His stomach heaves and his chest puffs out before deflating with a low groan. You know the man has had blow jobs, but you wonder when the last time someone really took their time with it. You keep your tongue soft, your mouth wet as you push him deep into the back of your throat, pausing to swallow so you don’t choke.

Javier groans, watching you, and he caresses your cheek. It bulges under his touch with your mouth full of his cock and he groans, “you’re so pretty.” He murmurs, closing his eyes for a second.

You hum around him, wanting to tell him that he is just as pretty, but you don’t want to pull your mouth away. Not when his eyes flutter closed and his head rolls back slightly in pleasure. Watching him as the tension in his body practically melts away as you suck his cock.

He feels like he’s in fucking heaven. You suck his cock with an enthusiasm he hasn’t experienced in so goddamn long and he moans your name as you hollow your cheeks.

You look down, concentrating on taking him as deep as you can. Loving how he’s responding to you. How wrecked he already sounds. Your hands slide up his jean clad thighs and you reach for the band to tug them down. You had just pulled his cock out in your eagerness to touch him, but now you want to strip him while his cock is down your throat.

He groans and lifts his ass to allow you to drag the jeans down his legs and he’s bare before you, his cock down your throat, and he can’t believe how quickly you’ve unravelled him. In bed and in his heart. “Fuck, hermosa.” He pants, caressing your cheek, “I’m close.” He warns you in case you don’t like to swallow.

Your hands hold his thighs as you hum around him. If he wants to cum down your throat, that’s perfectly fine with you. You are dripping into your panties and his groans might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

Your hum sends him over the edge and he lets out a choked groan as his cock twitches in your mouth. Hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat and you swallow them down, making him pant and tilt his head back as you milk him dry.

It has to have been awhile for him. The way he just cums and cums has you struggling to swallow all of him down but you only let a few drops escape from the sides of your mouth. Whining at how fucking sensitive your clit is as you drink him down, listening to his sounds as he comes apart for you.

He slumps against your sofa when he stops twitching, his eyes squeezed shut until he finally gets the strength to lift his head so he can look down at you. His cum is dripping down your chin and he groans, “fuck. You are a goddamn angel.” He murmurs, reaching for you to pull you up into his lap from your place on the floor.

You hum, grinning slightly at his description of you as you wipe your chin with your hand and then lick his cum off of your palm. “A little salty.” You tease, leaning in and kissing his chin since you don’t know how he feels about kissing someone with his cum on their tongue. “Need to drink more pineapple juice, baby. Makes it sweeter.”

He chuckles, “I’ll make a note of that.” He grips the back of your neck to drag you closer so he can kiss you properly. He doesn’t care about the taste of his cum on your tongue as his slides into your mouth, eager to show you how much he enjoyed that.

You make a noise of surprise and melt into the kiss. Letting him take over as you lean into his strong body. You know it will take him a little while to recover, but you don’t mind at all.

“Fuck. So gorgeous.” He murmurs, kissing down your neck, nipping the skin, and he runs his tongue along your collarbone. Your fingers tangle in his hair and he groans against your sternum, shifting his mouth so he can take your nipple into his mouth.

It’s your turn to moan, letting him twist you around to where your back is against the side of your sofa. “Javier.” You tug on his hair and that just makes him suckle harder. “So good baby, it feels so good when you touch me.”

He cups your other breast, squeezing it until he switches over to take your other nipple into his mouth. He bites down and loves the way you gasp and he sucks again, releasing it with a pop and he smirks as he starts to kiss your stomach.

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” You ask, knowing the couch would be cramped and you feel like he might want to take his time since he needs to recover.

Javier nods, shifting off the sofa and he holds his hand out towards you. You grin and take it, letting him guide you to your bedroom. “You still remember where it is?” You tease and he chuckles, “I remember every detail of that night.” Your heart flutters and he enters your bedroom and spins you so he can press his lips to yours again, walking you backwards towards the bed

You love how he doesn’t let you fall back on the bed without him coming too. Your knees hit the bed and when you sit down, he follows, kneeling on the bed and hovering over you with his mouth still fused to yours.

He loves how you react to him and he’s quick to pick up where he left off in the living room. Kissing his way down your stomach, he groans and hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down while he watches you wiggle on the bed. He tosses them over his shoulder, making you giggle, and the giggle transforms into a moan as he grabs your waist, lifting you higher up the bed so he can spread your thighs. Javier groans at the sight of your cunt. “Fuck. Missed her.” He murmurs to himself, reaching out to slide his fingers through your folds.

You were about to comment on that, hearing him refer to your pussy like that, but then he steals your breath away. His fingers are quick, nimble as he presses them against your clit and then moves down to slide them deep inside you. “Oh fuck.” You gasp out, clenching down around the thick digits.

He watches you with rapture, the lamplight making your skin glow, and he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you. He isn't in a rush, dark eyes taking in every detail, and his free hand caresses your thigh.

Your eyes close as he works you open. Feeling the way that you start to soak his fingers as they move in and out of your needy walls. Thighs open, chest starting to heave as he finds that spot that has you moaning his name when he presses against it.

He loves the way you clamp down on his fingers when he presses against that spot and he continues to work it, pumping his fingers. He wants you to cum like this for him then he's going to make you cum on his tongue. He twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to your clit, and continues focusing on that spot.

“Kiss me.” You beg softly, wanting to feel his lips on your while he plays your body like it’s his personal instrument. He’s adept at making you feel everything, the rough callus on the side of his finger scraping against your sensitive walls and making you shiver.

He can't deny you so he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, his fingers curling deeper inside you, and your choked cry puffs against his lips when he pulls back for a moment. "Cum for me, hermosa." He demands, wanting to feel it, see it, after imagining it so many times

You completely huge yourself over to him, pressing your lips to his again while your hips chase his fingers. Letting him curl them deep, pulling moans from your body as he pumps them deep inside. “Javi. Javi, I’m gonna cum.” You promise breathlessly.

He loves how breathless you are and he keeps that position and pace, watching your brow furrow when he pulls back to watch you. Your cry hits his ears as you clamp down on his digits, soaking them, and his spent cock twitches at the sensation.

The orgasm pulses through you. Making your tits shake as your body twitches and jerks in pleasure. Fingers twisted into the sheets while he works you through it. Groaning his approval in your ear. “So good hermosa. That’s it. Cum for me.”

His growled demand sends you over the edge and you moan, clamping down on his digits and he hisses at the way you soak his fingers. "That's it." He coos, working you through it by pumping his fingers.

Turning your head, you kiss along his jaw, panting as you slowly relax into the bed. Blissed out by how good it feels to cum from something other than your toys or your own hand. “Fuck.” You whimper. “You are so good at that.”

He chuckles and smirks, continuing to pump his fingers slowly and he shifts until he’s laying on his stomach between your thighs. He kisses the sensitive flesh, knowing you’re still riding the last wave, and he slowly kisses his way to your core until he softly kisses your clit.

“Javier.” You moan his name gently, as if saying it too loudly would stop him from touching you like this. Your toes curl against his ribs and he hums as you lift your legs onto his shoulders. “Baby, you are so good.” You praise.

He groans against your wet flesh as you praise him and he withdraws his fingers, making you whine. He soon replaces them with his tongue, sliding it through your folds to lap at your cum.

“Oh fuck, oh god.” You whine over and over as he starts to lick through your folds. Tasting you as if he is savoring a delicious meal. Taking his time with his dark eyes fixed on your face and his lips curled up in a cocky smirk. “Javi.”

He groans, sliding his hand up to squeeze your breast, your slick still on his fingers as he pinches your nipple. His tongue slides up to flick your clit, loving how your heels dig into his back at the sensation.

“You-“ you choke out a sound of surprise when he sucks your clit into his mouth and pulls harshly. Loving how he tempers his tongue and then changes the tempo. Your nipple stiffens under his touch and starts to ache pleasurably.

He is happy to stay between your thighs all night, loving the sounds you make, and he is eager to push you over the edge again and again. He flicks his tongue over your clit, closing his eyes as he moans so the vibrations add to the sensation.

You swear that you are already seeing stars as he works you up again. He’s not rushing it, taking his time to make sure that your descent into madness is thorough. “Oh fuck, you should be a porn star with that tongue.” You gasp. “You licked all of your informants' knowledge out of their cunts, didn’t you?”

Javier chuckles against your folds, “maybe.” He resumes his attack on your pussy, needing to hear more praise, and he groans when you tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing him deeper into your folds.

“Yesssss, you did.” You moan. “They should have paid you.” You start to rock your hips down onto his tongue. “You’d be rich.”

He smirks at your constant praise and he lets you use his face. His tongue flicking your clit and pushing into your cunt while you moan his name. His hands slide down and under you to squeeze your ass.

He lifts your hips up. Bringing your pussy closer to his face. Wanting to devour more of you. You whimper in pleasure and tug on his hair. “God, you need to keep doing that.” You beg.

He follows your order, eager to make you fall apart on his tongue, and he sucks on your clit like those stupid candies Colleen used to have on her desk that he’d steal and suck on when he was trying to cut back on cigarettes. “Fuck. Cum for me.” He rasps, lips smacking until he resumes sucking, his dark eyes on you as you writhe above him.

You shiver, helpless to do anything but obey his command. Your body lurches and you cry out his name loudly. Screaming it out for anyone to hear if they were close enough. “Javi!”

Your thighs snap shut, squeezing his head as you tremble. Your fingers almost pull out his hair but he doesn’t give a shit as he works you through your orgasm, lapping at your cum with a hum of satisfaction even if his cock is aching while pressed into the mattress.

“Javi, no more.” You whimper when it becomes too much for you, pressing your hand against his forehead to pull him off your clit. Panting softly, you start to giggle. “Jesus Christ, you almost killed me.”

He can't help but chuckle, kissing your thighs up to your stomach as you release his head from your grip. He shifts, kissing up your stomach until he takes your nipple into his mouth once again. He quickly switches and he grunts when you cup his cheeks, dragging him up to your mouth and he eagerly presses his lips to yours.

This time, you are the one sliding your tongue into the other’s mouth, not caring about your taste on his lips. Pouring yourself into the kiss and making sure that he knows how you feel without needing to say anything. Your arms are around him, keeping him close as your legs wrap around his waist and you feel his cock pressing against your lower belly.

He doesn't beg to fuck you. It's been a while since he was inside you and he doesn't want to assume you want him to fuck you. He'd be happy with oral. He kisses you back, letting you slide your tongue against his.

“I’m clean.” You murmur against his lips. “On the pill.” You add. “But I don’t have any condoms.” You pull back slightly. “It’s been awhile for me so I don’t keep them around.”

“I’m clean. Got tested when I got back stateside. Haven’t been with anyone since. Fuck, you sure?” He asks, cupping your cheek to look into your eyes. You nod and he shifts his weight to his forearm next to your head while he reaches down to grip his cock. He is measured as he rubs the head of his cock through your folds, tapping your clit enough to make you moan, and he chuckles as he positions himself at your entrance. He lifts his gaze, starting to push into you, his heart pounding in his chest.

It feels amazing. The slight stretch is nothing compared with the way your heart leaps at the heated gaze in his eyes. The emotions showing in their dark depths as he rocks into you. You reach up and caress his cheek, almost confessing those three words, but you don’t want him to feel trapped by that. “Javier.” You whisper his name and lunge up to press your lips to his when he bottoms out inside you.

It only feels like this with you. He’s a man who has buried himself in cigarettes and booze and sex since he left your bed but it’s never felt like this. The mind numbing feel of your hot pussy squeezing his cock and now, it’s blazing hot without the condom on. It’s like he’s connected to you in every way and it almost takes his breath away. He’s not a man of many words when it comes to how he feels so he starts to move instead, rocking into you with a low groan of your name against your lips until his tongue pushes into your mouth.

The moment completely takes hold. Little grunts being traded back and forth as your tongues curl around the others and your hands grasp greedily. If you were to use a word, you would call it lovemaking, both of you rocking to the natural instinct to crave this intimacy. He is amazing, and every kiss, every caress silently tells him that while you moan your approval.

He’s so used to frantic fucking, trying to get off as quickly as possible to make it back to his desk or to a stakeout, but right now, he can take his time. He murmurs your name again, kissing along your jaw, and he groans when your nails scratch down his back a little. “Fuck.” He hisses in pleasure and his thrust is harder.

“You like that?” You purr, digging your nails down his back again and loving how his hips nap forward sharply again. “You like being marked up, my nails telling you how good you are fucking me?”

“Fuck.” He curses again, “I- shit - keep doing it.” He orders, his pace picking up, and he grabs your thigh to change the angle his cock pushes into you. “Feel so goddamn good, hermosa.” He groans into your neck, breathing you in.

You hum in delight, finding something that he apparently can’t resist. You love learning about his needs. Turning your head and kissing his cheek as your nails rake up and down his spine. “You’re so good. Gonna make me cum all over your cock. Soak you. Fuck Javi!”

Your words make him twitch inside you and he rocks a little faster, needing to feel you clamp down on his cock. “Goddamn baby.” He murmurs, “tell me what you need.”

“I need-“ he’s brushing against your clit but it’s not enough. One hand on his back lets go to snake down between your bodies. Starting to rub your clit frantically. Caught up in the need to cum for him.

Javier tuts, letting go of your thigh, and he bats your hand away, replacing it with his fingers. He wants you to focus on feeling the pleasure while he gives it to you. “Good, baby? That what you need?” He asks roughly.

“Yessssssss.” You whine, tossing your head back and moaning his name. “Javi- I’m so close. More baby, just- so close.” You are starting to ramble, your body shaking because you are so close.

He can feel how close you are and he continues working your clit, groaning at how tight you squeeze him and when you fall apart, his chest heaves. You gush around him and cry out his name, making him hiss, "that's it baby. Fuck. That's it."

All you can do is ride it out. Trapping in pleasure so thick it takes your breath away as he starts to fuck you even faster when he can finally move again.

He works you through it, continuing to rub your clit until you whine in protest. He slows his thrusts and presses kisses to your neck, “so good baby.” He murmurs, loving how you relax beneath him.

“You aren’t going to pull out, are you?” You ask, caressing his side softly. “I want to feel you inside me. Filling me up.” You like a little cum play and are willing to risk it with Javi, never having anyone cum inside you without a condom since your last serious relationship.

He hasn’t cum inside anyone since Helena and that was only because of their closeness and trust in her. He used a condom with every other woman. “Fuck. Are you sure?” He asks, wanting to make sure you want it because he’s close.

“Yes, please.” You moan, nodding. “If you want. I trust you. I want to feel it.” You have thought about it more than you can admit since that one night with him. Using it as fuel for your masturbation fantasies.

He nods, wanting it too, to completely possess you in this moment. He groans, thrusting into you to work you through your orgasm, and it doesn’t take long for him to fall over the edge. He thrusts a half dozen more times, grunts escaping his lips, and pushes deep until he’s pressing against your cervix. With a deep groan of your name, his cock pulses and he paints your cunt with his hot cum.

It feels so good. Hot pulses spurting inside you, making you moan his name again and cup his cheeks to kiss him while he’s rocking into you. Emptying himself with sexy groans every time he grinds deeper. Until he finally stops and you feel some of his cum leaking out from around his cock buried inside you. “Fuck, I love you.” You murmur softly.

He isn’t surprised, he has seen it in your eyes, and back when you were planning his wedding, he pushed that aside to be a good man but now, he’s unattached and time has passed. “Love you too.” He confesses, eyes closed as he buries his face in your neck.

You hum softly, enjoying the feeling of his weight pressing you down into the mattress. “When do you think the DEA is going to stop punishing you?” You ask about ten minutes later after you’ve both cleaned up and he’s tucked you into his side. He’s trying to stop smoking, so he’s chewing on a piece of nicorette gum and playing with your hair.

He sighs, “I don’t know. It depends if they will let me back on the job or if I’m given severance pay. I fucked up so I don’t know what they will decide.” He confesses, “but until they decide, I’ll be here. With you…if you’ll have me.” He adds, raising his eyebrows when you pull back from him to look at him.

He looks so doubtful that you roll your eyes when you lean in to press your lips to his. “Of course I’ll have you.” You huff, kissing him several times before you pull back again. “You can stay here, or just have sleepovers when you want. Whatever is comfortable for you. I’m assuming you’re helping your dad?”

He nods, “Pa is getting older. I want to help him on the ranch. Been replacing the fencing and been shovelling shit.” He chuckles when you wrinkle your nose, “he’s getting older. He can’t do it all anymore.” Javier sighs and caresses your shoulder, “if I do get accepted back and sent off again…I want you to remember how I feel but I’m not gonna make you wait for me. It’s not fair. If you find someone, you be happy and you forget about me.”

It’s practical and you hate it. “I don’t know if I would wait.” You admit softly, “I don’t want to waste years. Not if I want kids.” He might not want children at all, especially after Lorraine tried to trap him.

He nods, cupping your cheek, “I know. Shit, timing just isn’t on our side but we don’t know what’s gonna happen. I’m just saying I don’t want you to wait in case I am gone years again. You deserve better and you deserve to be happy.” He says and leans in to softly kiss you.

You don’t offer to go with him. It would be impractical, with your business and you won’t ask him to stay. Not when he still obviously wants to be a DEA agent. “So do you, Javier.” You remind him gently. “If it’s not me, I want you to find someone who is a shelter from the storms for you.”

He smiles sadly, knowing that timing might not be on your side again, “never know. Might be handing in my badge and you’ll be stuck with me. Let’s see what happens, cariño.” He murmurs, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

****

His heart is heavy as he leans against the phone booth, fist clenched on the metal as he listens to the operator connect him to your phone. You answer with your name and his heart clenches, “hey baby. I- I said I’d call you once I found out my fate and, uh, they want me back. I’m flying out to Cali tomorrow.” He reveals, shifting his hand to rub his nose.

“Tomorrow, wow.” Your heart drops but you swallow down any questions that you have. You had known, deep down, that he would be sent somewhere else. The drug war was one they were losing and they needed good agents like Javier. “They didn’t give you a lot of time.” You chuckle, although the sound falls flat when he’s quiet on the other end. You sigh softly. “Good luck, Javier.” You murmur. “I’ll keep praying that you will be safe.” He hums on the other end and you feel tears start to build behind your eyes. “I love you.” You don’t expect a response and pull the phone away to quietly hang it up.

"I love you too." He murmurs, eyes shut as the guilt swells within him but there's nothing he can do. He loves you but he has to go to Cali. He has to redeem himself. No matter the cost. ****

Javier rubs his cheek when he returns to his apartment. He slept with someone last night to try and forget about you. He can already tell that he will be in Cali for a while. He knows you'll be moved on by then. You're too beautiful and smart to be available by the time he gets home. Yet he's ashamed to admit that he's selfish. He reaches for his phone after lighting a cigarette (he'd abandoned the gum after one day in his new job). The dial tone echoes in his ear and he waits, wondering if you'll answer the phone.

“Hello?” You are cooking dinner for yourself, a change from the few weeks that you had been feeding yourself and Javi. Or coming home to find Javi had already thrown something on the small grill in your backyard. Today was stressful and you are unwinding with a big glass of wine and a beer.

The guilt swirls in his stomach and he wonders if he should tell you the truth. "Hey baby. It's me." He announces and he can hear your smile in your voice when you say his name, it makes his heart thump. "How are you doing?" He asks, wanting to hear your voice.

“I’m okay.” You tuck the phone under your chin and start to stir your food. “I’m just making some dinner to have with my wine.” You tell him. “It was a long day with a very difficult bride, but luckily her mother has some common sense.” You hear him exhale and know that he has to be smoking a cigarette. “How are you?”

Javier taps the cigarette on the side of the ashtray, "I- I'm not so great. Been digging into what's been going on here and I - I don't know how long I'll be away trying to take these bastards done. Baby...I slept with someone last night." He confesses, wanting you to hate him. If you hate him, he won't have hope and he won't care how long it takes to take Cali down.

You swallow harshly, stopping what you are doing and setting the spoon down so you can grip the phone. “I see.” You had hoped that he would go longer than a week before moving on, but that wasn’t to be the case. “You and I aren’t together, Javier.” You remind him. “You are free to sleep with whoever you want. Just like I am.”

"I know." He murmurs, closing his eyes for a second, "I- shit - I was trying to forget about you because I ain't gonna be home anytime soon. I don't want you to wait for me." He says with conviction, "but she - I woke up and instantly regretted it. She wasn't you."

“You don’t owe me any explanation, Javi.�� You wish you could reach through the phone. Pull him close and hug him. You almost offer to come to visit him, but it would be a bad idea. You don’t need to distract him. He explained that he needed to redeem himself and you understand the drive behind his determination. “I’m not mad.” You promise. “A little hurt, but I’ll get over that.”

"I know. I know, hermosa. Baby...I just - shit." He rubs his forehead, smoke curling up into the air from the cigarette between his fingers, "I'm sorry." He whispers, wishing things were different and he didn't have to choose between the two most important things to him.

“Javi, I-“ you hear the anguish in his voice and you know that he is struggling with what he wants. “I love you.” You promise him. “But I want you to concentrate on your job, your mission to take the Cali cartel down.” You say steadily. “You do what you need to do. Be safe. And I’ll still be praying for you.”

He knows he's hurt you but he had to tell you in hopes you'd see that he isn't worthy of your love. "Thank you." He murmurs, knowing it's more than what he deserves.. "Is it okay if I call you? You know...when shit gets hard?" He knows he's being selfish but he wants to keep hold of you in some small way.

“Baby….” You sigh softly. “You can call me whenever you need to.” You promise. “In fact, I’ve got a cellular phone.” You had just gotten it a few days ago and haven’t given out the number. “Let me give you the number.”

He immediately snubs his cigarette out and he reaches for the pen and paper on his coffee table. “I’m ready.” He says and you tell him the number which he eagerly writes down. “Thank you.” He murmurs, tracing the number with his fingers, another connection to you.

“Have you eaten today?” You ask, making him sigh. “No.” He admits, making you shake your head. “You should go get something to eat, Javi. You can’t live off of booze and cigarettes.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll eat something.” He promises, knowing he won’t get away with telling you anything else. “I’ll call you.” He vows, “until you tell me to stop.”

“That won’t happen.” You know that eventually the calls will taper off, but you would never turn him away. “So you keep calling, so I know you are safe, okay, baby?”

He feels relieved that you’re not telling him to fuck off and never call him again. He knows he will call you when times are tough. You’re his light in the darkness. Something to work towards. “Thank you.” He murmurs, “I- I’ll let you go. Let you eat your dinner.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, Javier.” You murmur softly. “I love you.” Again, you don’t expect anything in return and gently hang up the phone. You might hear from him or you might not. You can never tell with him.

****

Javier adjusts his duffel bag over his shoulder as he makes his way off the plane from Bogotá. He is ready to return home, Cali was a mess but he did it. He redeemed himself. He had called his Pa to tell him he was coming home a few days ago and he didn’t ask about you. He doesn’t want to know if you are with someone…he wants to get home before he gets that heartbreaking news. After that first week, he hasn’t buried himself in sex. The guilt was too much and he didn’t want to be involved in more complications. He makes his way out into the terminal and he nearly stumbles when he sees you standing there. He murmurs your name and stops in front of you. “You’re here.”

You are leaning against your car, arms folded over your chest as you watch him stop short. A surprised look on his face makes you smile. “Welcome home, Javier.” You push off the car and step closer to him. “I hope you don’t mind. Your dad told me you were coming in and I offered to pick you up.” You won’t say that you didn’t date while he was gone, but nothing ever went past a few dinners. You reach out and caress his arm. “How long are you here for?” You ask softly. “Chucho couldn’t tell me.”

He’s surprised to see you but so happy, and takes your hand in his when it slides down his arm. “I’m here for good. Retired from the DEA. Turned in my badge. It’s done.” He confesses, “I’m home for good.” He adds and he braces himself for you to tell him you’ve got a boyfriend or shit, a husband.

“That’s great.” You light up when he tells you that and there’s only one thing keeping you from pressing your lips to his. Your eyes slide behind him, looking for someone that might have followed him out. “You didn’t bring someone home, did you?” You ask softly.

He shakes his head, “didn’t sleep with anyone past that first week.” He promises and squeezes your hand, “what about you? Boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband?” He tests all of them and each time you shake your head. You’re single. His heart pounds in his chest and he lets go of your hand. He cups your cheeks and looks into your eyes, “marry me. I don’t want to wait anymore. I love you. I know what I want. It’s you. As my wife.”

You are surprised, eyes widening as you stare into his eyes. Looking for any hint of doubt, of regret for blurting out something so impulsive. All you find is hope swimming in his eyes, want trapped beneath the surface. “Yes.” You whisper breathlessly, starting to smile back at him. “But I want to elope.”

He grins, nodding, “yes. Whatever you want, baby.” He promises, leaning in to kiss you. He loves you so much and he can’t believe you’re giving him another chance. He thought he would’ve lost you during his time in Cali. You press your lips to his and his hands shift to grip your waist, dragging you against him. He pulls back a moment later, “are you sure you don’t want to plan your own wedding? Or hire someone? You’ve spent so long giving everyone else their special day. You don’t want your own?” He asks, a frown on his face as he cups your cheek.

“All that matters is that you and I are married.” You promise. “All the other shit doesn’t matter. I just want to start our life together, Javi. I don’t need a dress or a day to do that. Do you want a wedding?” You ask seriously.

He shakes his head, “I want whatever you want. All I want is you.” He promises, knowing that this is so different from Lorraine. She wanted the biggest wedding money can buy. You just want him. “I love you, soon to be Mrs Peña.” He smirks, cupping the back of your neck, “and we can go tomorrow and get you a ring.”

“That works for me.” You let him drag you closer, pressing your lips against his and you smile happily. There was a wedding in Javier Peña’s future after all. Just not the one that you had met because of.

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