#and if you wanted a different pairing im serious please let me know

[allylikethecat]

If you want to do it and if you have the time could I humbly request prompt 20, a kiss on a scar. I absolutely love all these kiss prompts

Hello! I realized after I wrote this that you didn't give me a pairing- I just assumed Matty x George. If that was NOT who you were looking for let me know and I'll write another one! I'm sorry that this took a few days to finish and I hope that you enjoy it regardless of the pairing!

I also have another request for #20, and because I really like this prompt I am going to be writing another one for it. I just have a few more to get through before I get to it!

Thank you again for reading, and I'm so happy that you're enjoying them! Let me know what you think!

❤️Ally

Kiss…on a scar

“I love you,” Matty whispered, his head resting against George’s chest, the blankets pooled around his waist as he traced George’s “broken” tattoo with his finger, feeling the raised skin of his scar from his collarbone surgery, listening to his heart beat, trying to match his own breathing to George's rhythmic inhale and exhale. 

“I love you too,” George murmured, his words vibrating in his ribcage. Matty turned his head, nuzzling his nose against George’s bare chest inhaling the scent of his skin. He closed his eyes and tried not to cry, so overwhelmed that this was something he got to have. 

If someone had told him he would have this ten years ago, twenty four with a chip on his shoulder, their debut album on the horizon, he would have laughed. He had been so far in the closet he hadn’t even realized that was where he was. If you had told him at twenty eight, having relapsed after rehab, the rest of the guys icing him out, convinced that this was the end, that George would ever hold him with kindness, that George would still even want him in his life Matty would have said you were delusional. Even at thirty, hunkered down with a global pandemic on the horizon, quarantining with George, overcome with fear and uncertainty, Matty wouldn’t have believed it.

He  still didn’t believe it, he kept waiting to wake up in 2014, in 2017, in 2020 and be told it was all just a dream, all just a hopeless fantasy. Because why would George ever want him. He was Matty Healy the hot mess express. Emphasis on mess. But here they were in 2023. Matty was thirty four, George was thirty three. They lived in the home they had picked out together in West London, they had a yard and a dog. They had a fifth album that had gone number one in the UK, they had a sixth album that was on the way. They had each other. 

Matty wished he could go back in time, wished that he could tell Matty at twenty seven, strung out and terrified, heart racing, thinking he was going to die in portaloo in Scotland when he had accidentally taken too much that it was all going to be alright, even as the rest of the guys having caught on to his deep his addiction ran. They had confronted him and he fled to score. He wished he could tell twenty seven year old Matty who was ready to give up, that was starting to accept that he wasn’t going to make it to thirty, that he was going to get through it, that even after the lowest of lows, even after he hit rock bottom, and then kept digging, that he would be able to claw himself back up, that he would find someone who loved him, someone who loved him all along. 

“Are you crying love?” George asked softly, reaching up to run the pad of his finger under Matty’s eye, ruffling his eye lashes and making Matty scrunch up his nose at the sensation.

“No,” he said, even as his tears leaked against George’s skin, causing him to chuckle. He never thought he would be this soft, that he would allow himself to be so vulnerable. He had always been emotional, cried at the drop of a hat his entire life, but at the same time he had always been guarded, had always protected his soft underbelly. But he was now, metaphorically belly up, neck bared, fully trusting George and at his mercy.

“Awe, love,” said George, voice full of love rather than condensation when Matty sniffled, and turned his head, pressing a kiss to George’s collarbone, right over the silvery scar from his surgery, the word “broken” tattooed into his skin just below it. 

“I hate this tattoo,” Matty said suddenly, pressing another kiss to the scar as if he could erase the flaws from the skin with his love alone. George shouldn’t have the word broken on his skin when he was anything but. Matty was the one that was broken, glued back together haphazardly, ready to topple over again at a moment's notice. George was steady, George was whole. 

“What?” George asked, leaning back on his elbows, changing the angle of Matty’s incline, causing him to grumble as he shifted his weight into a more stable position. 

“You’re not broken,” Matty said. 

“I know I’m not,” said George, not following Matty’s train of thought. “And neither are you.” 

“You’re perfect,” Matty said, breath hot against George’s scarred skin. 

He snorted and reached up to run a hand through Matty’s tangle of curls. He had been letting them grow longer again, after seeing the fan support for them on the internet. George would never admit it, but he liked Matty’s hair like this, overgrown and messy, the gray threads interwoven with the dark strands. He had hated the hair gel but knew better than to try and police Matty’s body, his fashion choices. 

“You’re not broken,” Matty said again, more weight to his voice this time as he kissed the scar. 

“Do you know what they say about broken bones?” George asked, and Matty shook his head. “When you break a bone, it heals stronger.” He paused. “Just like us.” 

[idkwhatever580]

You Like Me?

Pairings: WandaNat, WandaNatxreader (eventually)

Prompt: I decided to pair this prompt and this prompt together to create one big mess :)

Warnings: Poly couple, swearing, Nat being kind of a bitch, crying, a wee bit of angst I assume, fluff, soft Wanda, suggestive tones, shit writing, really im serious this writing is so shit, lmk if I missed any!

A/N: I really hope I did y'all justice because this is my first time writing WandaxNatxreader so please bear with me as I probably write a trainwreck of a story @sxlfishbrokenheart

Also don't ask what is going on with the povs I am clearly struggling throughout the whole damn thing T-T

Natasha's thoughts = Red

Wanda's thoughts = Orange

Y/n's thoughts = Purple

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movie night at the Avengers' tower means cry night for you. Everyone in the tower has strict assigned seating so that nobody gets in a fight, even though it doesn't always keep the peace.

Everything seems to be great except for the fact that you have to sit beside Wanda and Natasha. Which isn't a problem for everyone else right? Wanda, Nat, and Y/N the towers' favorite trio...

Bestie trio, that is.

While Wanda and Nat are the perfect power couple, you're left as the third wheel that also happens to be pining for the both of them. So, while everyone thinks you love sitting with them on movie nights, you sit in agony while watching them out of the corner of your eye.

Sometimes Wanda, who sits in the middle of you and Nat, will pull you into her and claim that it's just what besties do. You of course, can't say no to her, so you end up running back to your room after most movie nights to cry about your wishful thinking.

You honestly can't even remember a movie night where you actually watched the movie. You usually just fall asleep in their arms trying to soak up the affection while you can.

But your dynamic has changed in the past few months...

Wanda is still super lovey and always pulls you in, maybe even more so than before, while Nat has become meaner and ruder towards you. So, you really feel like you're impeding on their relationship, which makes you get into your head.

Maybe Nat is being mean to me because she is jealous. Of course, she has a right to be jealous when Wands has been really close with me. I don't want to ruin their relationship. I'm not even trying anything. Maybe it is because they can sense that I like them. Oh my gosh, it is... Of course! Wanda is being extra nice because she pities me, while Nat is being mean because she is blunter and more obvious that she doesn't like me. I need to leave them alo-

You are cut out of your thoughts when a hand is placed on your thigh. That hand is none other than Wanda's, she leans in and says, "Hey, you alright?"

You quickly nod your head, and she visibly relaxes, but she continues, "Are you sure? Because we haven't even started watching anything and you look like you're zoned out on the tv that isn't even on."

This conversation peaks Natasha's interest, so she leans forward so she can see you past Wanda with an eyebrow raised. She is clearly waiting for you to conjure up an answer.

You quickly stutter out, "Oh- yeah, um, I am fine, I just- I just zoned out for a sec, you know how my ADHD can be."

Wanda squints her eyes and exchanges a look with Nat, but they let it slide. You still decide that you need to pull away from them, you can't be pretending like they are yours to love when they aren't.

So, you scooch over to the other side of the couch you three share, which isn't too far considering there is almost no wiggle room between the three of you. It still saddens Wanda regardless, but you don't see that it also saddens Nat.

The movie starts and Wanda tries to pull you in again, you consider letting it happen, but today is different. Today you pull away again, but the look of hurt that flashes over Wanda's face hurts you more than any sort of cuddling could ever.

Her expression pains you so much in fact that you get up and go to run off. Nat grabs your hand to try and catch you and see what is going on with you, but you are somehow swifter, so you just pull your arm away from her grasp and walk off.

Nobody saw you run off because your couch is in the back, but Wanda and Natasha exchange each other's glances and immediately jump up to go comfort you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda's pov

Y/n just ran off after I tried to cuddle with her, so Natasha and I are currently going to find her.

We are standing in the elevator waiting for it to go to our floor which is also Y/n's.

"Wanda, why did she run off like that?"

I look over at Nat and shrug with wide eyes, "I don't know, she doesn't normally do this. She pulled away earlier before the movie started but I didn't think anything of it. Oh God she didn't want to cuddle today, and I did it anyways I totally made her uncomfortable!"

Natasha cuts me off, "Hey! You're spiraling, clearly Y/n needs us to be there for her, so we have to stay calm. I am sure there is a very good explanation as to why she didn't want to cuddle tonight."

The elevator dings and we rush over to Y/n's room and before Nat bangs on the door, I lean up and hear her sniffles.

Nat hears this too and loudly knocks on the door.

I say, "Y/n? Honey? Can you let us in?"

She lets out a sob, but doesn't answer, and I am concerned for her safety, so I say, "Okay, I'm going to come in now."

I carefully pry open the door and see her sitting on her floor in tears, so I quickly make my way over to her and sit down next to her, "Darling can I hold you?"

She shakes her head, so I sigh and stay seated next to her. Eventually though, she ends up leaning into me and I wrap my arms around her. Once her tears cease, I softly say, "Can you tell us what's going on?"

She looks up at Natasha and gets scared and shakes her head. Natasha tries to ask, "Why did you run off Y/n?"

I know that she means well when she asks this, but the way it comes out is really harsh and Y/n starts crying a little bit again, and just starts shaking her head, so I hush her and lean into her ear to whisper, "Do you not want to say in front of Natasha?"

Y/n thinks about it and softly shakes her head.

I sigh and say, "I can send her out if you'd feel more comfortable."

She stays silent for a moment, and right when I think she is going to start crying again, she nods her head into my shoulder, so I lift my head up and use my powers to silently conversate with Nat in her head.

"She wants you out..."

"What?! Why?"

"Not sure."

"Then why do I have to go?"

"I know you don't get it, but she needs to feel comfortable and if that means that you have to leave then you need to go, please, I love you baby, but we have to get to the bottom of what is going on. I'll let you know after."

Natasha huffs and nods her head without another word, and she leaves the room to presumably go lay in our bed waiting for me to come and give her an update.

Once Nat leaves I go back to tending to Y/n. "Do you want to go on your bed? This floor might hurt your back."

Y/n nods softly and I pick her up and carry her to the bed. When I set her down, she sits up, so I know she is ready to talk. "Alright, what was that whole thing about? You never leave a movie night early, and you definitely don't run off crying... Right?"

The defeated look Y/n sends my way makes me realize this crying is a normal thing for her, "Oh dorogoy, why do you do this? Why don't you come to me or Nat?"

She sighs and says, "I can't go to you because- because... I- I can't tell you."

This hits me kind of hard, I don't want the woman that we love to feel like she can't come to us for anything. "Why do you say that?"

She gets frustrated and just blurts out, "Because Wanda! I-" Her face contorts to surprise at her outburst, and she quickly tries to cover it up, "I said I can't tell you for a reason."

I sigh and secretly read her mind, She is struggling because she thinks Natasha hates her.

All I see when I subtly read her mind are flashes of Nat being a complete and utter bitch to her, and that is all it takes for me to realize that she thinks Nat totally hates her guts.

I nod and say, "Okay, well I will let you figure it out, since you seem to want to be by yourself. We're always here if you need us. I am gonna go to bed I guess, Nat is waiting in our room, are you alright on your own?"

She simply nods and I ask another question, "You'll come to us if you need anything?"

She nods again and we say our goodbyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I almost run to my shared room and immediately start telling Natasha everything. "Natasha, she does like us!"

Nat furrows her eyebrows, because I only use her full name when I am mad at her. So, she looks at me and says, "That's old news, but are you mad at me? And it also doesn't explain why she was crying."

I sit down on the bed and tell her, "Nat, I am not mad at you, you are just dumb."

Her jaw drops a bit, and she says, "I'm not stupid!"

I laugh when her subtle Russian accent comes out, (she's been hanging around Yelena way too much recently, but I like it) and say, "I called you dumb, not the same thing as stupid. Anyways, Y/n was crying because she likes both of us, and she is scared she is going to split us up because you don't like her."

She frowns and retorts, "but- I do like her?"

I glare and say, "I know that, but Y/n thinks you hate her because you are mean to her! You know she is a sensitive soul; you have to try a different approach than what you did with me."

The crease across her forehead never goes away, if anything, it gets bigger, "But I am only flirting with her, you know that is how I flirt."

I laugh and say, "Oh Natty, I knew you liked me because I can read minds, Y/n cannot do that, so she can't tell that you like her if you are a bitch to her, no offense."

She looks down and realization washes over her, so she says, "So what do I do? She barely talks to me anymore, and she definitely won't let me in her room right now."

I sigh and say, "you'll have to figure it out somehow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

idk pov (guys I can't- I seriously don't know right now)

It has been a few days since the day you locked yourself away from everyone, and you have been avoiding both of them since.

You have locked yourself up in your part of Tony's lab and you just can't bring yourself to face them. You also skipped movie night last night and everyone was trying to see if you are okay, but you just told FRIDAY to let them know you are fine.

You are tinkering with one of your suit pieces when you realize you need a tool that you don't have, but you know Tony has it on his work bench.

So, you walk over to his side of the lab and of course none other than the Natasha Romanoff is sitting at his bench looking for something. You sigh and contemplate waiting for her to leave, but you really need this tool, and you see it right on a shelf above his desk. So, you sigh and make you way quietly over to the desk, but while you reach out to grab it, Nat also reaches up for the same tool and you bump each other's hands.

Within the blink of an eye, three things happen; Nat and you bump hands, you end up hitting the shelf, and one of Tony's weird gadgets fall onto your wrists effectively locking around your wrists and binding you together.

You groan and Nat says, "Shit, I didn't see you."

You shake my head and turn away as much as you can, and you say "It's fine, I should have made my presence known."

She starts looking at the gadget and you take a second to examine it closer and say, "Oh. My. God."

Natasha furrows her eyebrows in confusion and says, "What is it?"

You groan and say, "These are the vibranium tondricuffs Tony has been working on."

She rolls her eyes when you don't explain and says, "And what does that mean? I might be a spy, but I don't know this sciencey shit you do."

You shake your head from the soft thoughts of her perfect lips and say, "Oh- uhh it is just what he calls them, but when I say he is working on them, it means that he hasn't figured them out yet and I don't think he knows how to unlock them."

Nat takes a deep breath and says, "So, you're telling me, that since Tony can't seem to put away his stupid toys, we are locked together for the foreseeable future?"

You sigh and nod your head, dropping it the second you feel heat rising to your face at the thought of all the things you might have to do with Nat. "Who do we tell? Isn't Tony on a mission?"

Nat groans even louder at the realization and says, "I guess we should go tell Wanda, and then she will help make a plan right?"

You bite your lip at the thought of facing her, and Nat sees your hesitation, "Hey, what's up with you lately? You always want to see Wanda."

You make brief eye contact with Nat and quickly look away until she puts her fingers to your chin and pulls you to look at her. She looks deep into your eyes and says, "You've been distant, ever since..."

You sigh and say, "Sorry, I guess I don't like when people see me cry."

Nat furrows her eyebrows and says, "You're a terrible liar."

You look at her with shock and say, "I am not lying!"

She laughs and says, "Oh really?"

When you nod your head she smirks and says, "If you really didn't like when people see you cry, then why did you never shut us out before? You have cried in our arms before, and you have never done something like this."

You sigh and say, "Okay, well- maybe I have changed."

Nat rolls her eyes as you decide to continue your work on your suit, effectively dragging Nat along wherever you go, not that she minds. She keeps pressing even though you clearly want to drop the subject, "You're hiding something."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"No. I'm. Not."

"If you weren't hiding anything then why don't you tell me why you couldn't face me the other night? And why you can barely look at me today?"

This seems to break you, her constant nagging is really pissing you off and you just slam your tools on the work bench and say, "Alright fine! You really want to know why I have been avoiding you?"

She nods her head, "yes please do enlighten me."

You groan and turn to her completely and just blab everything, "Because! You clearly see that I like Wanda and you are mad so you have been really mean, which is understandable, because she is your girlfriend, but what you don't know is that I like both of you and I know you probably hate my guts even more than before, but I really needed to get that off of my chest and-"

Before you can let any more word vomit fall out of your mouth Natasha's lips are on yours in an instant. They shut you up really well.

Your eyes widen and you push her away as much as you can, given the fact that you're still handcuffed together.

"Nat what are you doing?!"

She looks at you, "Is that not what you wanted this whole time?"

"Well, yes, but what about Wanda?"

She realizes that you don't know that she and Wanda knew, "Oh! Right! Wanda knows you like her. And I knew I just didn't know how to flirt. I am apparently a really shitty flirt when I am being genuine. I can fake flirt, but when I have a real crush, I turn into an asshole. It worked for Wands, but I realized it didn't necessarily work for you huh?"

You shake your head with wide eyes. Still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that both of your crushes like you back. Before you can fall deeper into your thoughts, Nat asks, "Wanna continue what we were doing?"

All you can do is nod, but her lips are immediately locked on your own. The feeling burns but it burns so so good. You two continue to swap spit until you hear someone speak, "Am I interrupting something ladies?"

You both pull away and look to see Wanda standing in the doorway. You freeze, still unsure if she is okay with you kissing her girlfriend, and she starts to step towards the two of you.

Once she gets up really close to you, she gives you a soft look and walks by you to kiss Nat pulling away to say, "Hi baby."

They exchange some small talk, and you are really uncomfortable because you have no idea what to do. They are just acting like you're not there and that you and Nat weren't just kissing.

Then, they both turn to you and Wanda leans closer to you, "Tell me Natasha, was it your intention to keep this sweet thing from me?"

Your eyes widen as Nat shakes her head aggressively letting out a soft 'no'.

Who knew Natasha was a bottom... they even acted like she was the top around me. Impressive.

Wanda lifts your chin a bit to look at her and she smirks, "What is going on in that pretty little head of yours, y/n/n?"

You snap out of it and whine a bit, and Wanda smiles and says, "Do you want a kiss too?"

You nod your head.

"Words sweet one."

"Y-yes please."

She smiles and looks back at Natasha briefly saying, "This one has good manners. She knows her place well. We've known her for all this time and yet we're just finding this out. Oh, we're going to have so much fun with her Natty."

Nat nods her head, and Wanda turns back to you to say, "Now... about that kiss."

She leans in, and you meet her halfway to interlock her delicate lips together with yours. It is likes soft pillows meeting sparkling fireworks.

You get lost in the kiss and try to push a little more for a deeper one, but Wanda pulls away with a soft smirk. As much as you want to pout for losing contact with her, all you can do is send a dopey smile her way.

Wanda exchanges looks with Natasha and they both look back at you. Nat speaks first, "So, now that we have that out of the way, Wands and I were wondering if you wanted to be our girlfriend?"

Your eyes widen and Wanda speaks up a bit, "Don't feel pressured to give us an answer right now. We understand it's new, and you might be feeling overwhelmed, we just want to put the offer on the table."

Then she leans closer to you and speaks in a low tone, "Although we don't like to be kept waiting."

Her silky voice makes you blush a bit, but you clear your throat and say, "Date both of you? At the same time?"

They both nod their heads and you say, "Yes! A thousand times yes!"

They both smile as you kiss each of them multiple times.

Natasha sighs and says, "Alright, what do you want to do as our official girlfriend now?"

You smile and say, "As much as I would love to go watch movies to make up for the last two movie nights that I missed, I really would like to get this thing off."

You hold up both Natasha's and your connected arms up to show Wanda the tondricuffs.

Wanda's eyebrows raise, she's probably wondering what happened to get that locked onto you. Natasha sighs in defeat and says, "Oh, right... that." You softly grab Nat's hand.

Wanda is about to ask questions, but you cut in and say, "Ask questions later, find Tony now. Please."

Safe to say there was a lot to discuss, but it will all work out now that you have your girls.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I'm so terribly sorry for how long this took me to write... I genuinely thought it would be quick and easy, but college is kicking my ass, and I really didn't want to leave you with nothing. So, it's a little shitty, but it's something!

Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao @mrsrushman @kkreader78o @cheekysnake

[kdctrin]

Missin' You Already

Synopsis: You're finally getting the time to spend with your girls after you all planned a long-awaited trip away for the weekend. But how will ony take being away from you?

pairings: semi-clingy!ony x black reader

warnings: nsfw, more suggestive, use of the n word, not proofread fr (lemme know if I missed something)

"Onyyy!!" you whine, irritated, while pacing around the room. where the fuck did you put it? You JUST had it no way it could be gone just like that.

"hm?" he says more interested in the game than you. this just makes you more irritated. You have somewhere to be in not even 30 minutes.

You and your girls have been planning to go on a weekend getaway after you all agreed to the stress of jobs and life. This was the one time you could see all your girls in one place and relax all at the same time.

"Ony did you see my phone? imma be late!" you say flipping the sofa cushions up and down.

"Nah ma, i ain' seen it. did you check the dresser?" ony asks nonchalantly while still keeping his focus on the games screen not even sparing a glance. Of course you checked the dresser, that was the first if not second most obvious place to check.

You let out a sigh knowing he'd be no help in your search. You end up finding it in the bathroom on the sink. "how'd it get here?" you think, but you have no time to fully process it and give ony a quick, "I found it." before rushing back to the bedroom to gather the rest of your things.

Rolling your suitcase out to the living room you ask "Baby can you take me over to shy's place? I don't wanna be late." he looks over at you while removing one side of his headphones. "Yea ma don't worry bout it. I'll take you over there... just after this match" placing his headphones back on and refocusing on the game.

He cannot be serious. You've told him about this trip for weeks and now he's making you late.

"Baby please! everyone's probably already over there and im gonna be the only one that's not!" you pout in hopes of him immediately taking you to your destination.

"cmonn mama. just sit on my lap here" he pauses the game and pats his thigh and you hypnotically make your way over and place your self on him. He was dressed in his signature black sweats and his black compression shirt. Dont know what it is but it gets you everytime. "you're gonna be gone all weekend just give me 5 more minutes witchu baby. I know you're gonna miss me too" he gives you a peck on the cheek. you sigh and say,

"but I don't wanna be late" you whine hoping he'll just get up and take you.

He gives you this confused look while saying "but baby you're always late. it don't make a difference now." you look at him shocked. "fashionably late" he's quick to save himself.

"I know that's right, don't try to play me" you both laugh at each others antics. "but for real let's go, you know how long this has been planned I wanna go like now ony." you tell him as you start to get up but he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you on him.

"but maybe I don't want you to go mama." he teases. damn he's too cute. how can he switch up so fast? what happened to 5 more minutes?

"ony" you say his name in seriousness. nows not the time for this you gotta go he promised to take you.

"I'm serious mama, I don't want you to go" his tone is whiney but alluring all at the same time. he leans up to kiss you pouty glossed lips. it'd almost be sensual if it wasn't for how quick it ended. "you don't love me no more so you tryna go away wit yo friends for the whole weekend?" he says smirking. he knows what he's doing. "I know what yall doin there anyway, bouta be flirtin wit other niggas n shit tss" he shakes his head and pushing you off jokingly. "I guess I can take you."

You smile "Baby I'm not. you know you my only one" you bring your finger to brush his nose, a little habit you developed to show your affection towards him, and kissed it right after.

"yea I believe you ma" he chuckles. You stand up out of his lap and start to gather your things again to get ready to leave.

"wait baby, shit. why you in such a rush? s'not like they gonna leave you here. damn" hes gripping his arms around you harder to keep you in place but now he's kissing up on your neck. you know he's trying to be slick and get you to stay. "how can I let my pretty baby go when she looks this good hm?" he breaths into your neck and keeps kissing on it.

you let out a soft moan and started to lean into his affection forgetting all about your plans. he starts to tease you, kissing you everywhere but your lips. he knows exactly how to get to you.

"cmon mama, just let me say goodbye to her." rubbing on your clothed pussy. ony whispers in your ear, "just a quickie I promise." you're hesitant. you know it's never a quick fuck with him. he loves to make you feel good inside and out. so there's no way he'll ever leave you dissatisfied. which is why you say:

"Fine." with a playful smirk on you lips.

Because what would he do without you?

[minnies-puppydoll]

{ Kinkmas Day 2: }

🎁 .*• Gift Wrapped •*. 🎁

pairing: minho x reader

summary: what's the best way to spend time with your lover if you aren't tied up? minho found a new skill to teach his viewers, and you just so happen to be the test dummy.

warnings: hard dom!minho, bondage, camming, sex toys, praise, degradation, impact play, overstimulation, exibitionism, homosexual/ship implications, if i missed any let me know!!

note: IM SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LATE🫣

dating someone like minho was sure an adventure. you were aware of his camming job before you really got official, and to be honest, it wasnt really a suprise to you.

minho has always come across as a domineering person. of course, he still has his sweet, almost motherly caring moments for you…when he isn’t forcing your legs apart and showing his viewers how to treat a slutty pussy like yours.

even his humor seems sadistic, its like in every aspect of life, he loves to see you writhing the most.

minho’s cam show is all about BDSM instruction. all of the content is based around sexual safety and health, while also keeping it pornographic with live demonstrations, starring his obedient, loving girlfriend.

tonight’s live was no different, but it was a little intimidating you have to admit. minho would go out every week to this unknown location, he wouldn’t tell you what it was about, and when you asked he just said it was a suprise.

you were about to assume the worst, till he came home with a long, tied up cord of red rope hanging out of his bag, and peered at you excitedly.

it was a face you were very familiar with, a pleased, almost shy smile lit up his face as he greeted you, before taking your hand and coaxing you into the bedroom.

he told you he has been going to shibari classes for his streams, and he wants to play with you on live and show everyone what he learned.

you were hesitant at first, till you remembered, if he’s been taking classes for this long then he’s probably good, and you know for a fact minho, being the responsible dom he is, would never try something like this on you unless he was sure he was good.

so here you sat, all pretty in a lace black set, next to the intimidating bundles of shibari rope that’ll be restricting you soon, along with a few other selected toys. but it’s fine. you trust your boyfriend to do what’s best for you.

“alright..everything is all set up. are you sure you want to do this? it’s never too late to back out if you feel uncomfortable.”

“yeah! honestly..i was a little nervous, but now i’m getting pretty excited.”

“oh? is the pretty whore already messing up her new set? such a good girl, but does she remember her safewords?”

“uh huh!”

“go on then.”

“red means stop, yellow means pause and discuss, and green means keep going!”

“good girl! such a smart little thing aren’t you?”

the large webcam setup clicks on, revealing you and minho in the reflection. the familiar system of the camsite focuses you as minho hovers over the livecam button.

“we are live in 3..2..1!”

minho sits on the bed next you, prettily fixing up his hair and taking on a serious look in his eyes, before cheerfully saying his intro as viewers flood and start commenting.

bbok.flx: omg i was first ㅜㅜ that’s a bit embarrassing..

j.onee: i had this stream time on an alarm bro

“hello everyone, you’ve just joined lee know’s weekly sexual education stream..”

you giggled to yourself, you knew lee know was just an online alias, but it was still such a cute name for an intimidating man like your minho.

“if you’re new here, i’m lee know. i work as a professional dom, and this is my little demonstration doll right here next to our topic object tonight.”

minho moved behind you, stroking his hands over your soft body to show you off. you relax in his touch, fluttering your lashes to the camera in front of you.

“there she is. isn’t she pretty? god..look at that, this whore is already wet for all of you.”

the chat moves faster, reading all of these filthy comments about you works you up even further. a few even make you laugh a bit.

fck_hyune: i love seeing her tits. the things i would do to a girl like that ughh

j.onee: i should be her god THIS ISNT FAIR.

minho cracks a loud slap to your thigh, before picking up the rope and unwravelling it slowly, making a bit of a show for the audience. he holds it up to the camera, sliding it between his hands like a pet.

“that’s right, the lesson starting tonight is bondage. i will be teaching you how to safely execute shibari ties on a submissive. this is only lesson one of this subject, so i will only demonstrate one full tie for you this stream.”

minho reads a few comments, then bites his lip, smiling devilishly.

cbbang97: cute rope lee know, but we all know who the real slut is~

he sighs before placing his hands on your shoulders and leaning down to rest his head on you, arching his back a bit behind you so the chat can see his pretty hips and gorgeous thick thighs you and the audience fantasize about.

“excited? i can feel you squirming behind your screens, but you all know the rules. i’ll only go through with the lesson if you pay the fuck up, hm? i want three hundered in donations right now, or i’ll just end the stream now and leave this slut untouched.

minho commands the chat, and you know he isn’t bluffing either. you rub your thighs together and smile when donations start to flood in. but only 105 dollars? that isn’t enough for minho.

“tch. really? you expect to excite me with that pitiful amount? seriously, pay it or i’m done.”

j.onee: SOMEONE PLZ PAY SERIOUSLY IM BROKE AS FUCK

bbok.flx: hehe i got u one sec ^o^

minho cuts his eyes at the camera, tapping his finger impatiently, before looking pleased at the large donation of 300 on its own. that’s more than what he asked for, and he swears he can feel his cock growing in his pants at the sound of the donation ring.

“good job. all of you are being so good for me, follwing directions, want this lesson now as a reward? let’s begin with a chest harness.”

minho sits behind you, he pets your hair sweetly, spreading the rope out in his hand. he sticks his tongue out obscenely before licking up the rope, his dark eyes never leaving the camera.

“start with your rope doubled by looping it in your fingers, then simply wrap it around the submissive, just under their chest.”

he follows his words expertly sliding the looped rope under your boobs, he does it slowly though, making sure he doesn’t hurt you.

“loop the end through the back, then repeat again.”

his words aren’t loud or aggressive, yet you’re sure they could make a mountain move. you say nothing and keep still, letting whatever pretty commands he makes flow out of his mouth. you swear you’d serve him for the rest of your life, your sweet love.

. . .

as the ties and teachings go on for a while, you feel yourself slipping into a familiar, euphoric headspace and the feeling of the restricting rope over your shoulders and breasts, down to your tied up wrists behind your back.

he occasionally answers questions in chat about parts of the knots, or ask you your color.even though it took a long time, you feel like it was over too soon as he tightens the final knot over your ribcage. despite streaming porn, he still leans down and kisses your head sweetly, checking on you.

“feel good? is anything too tight? just say the word and ill comepletely untie it.”

“it feels so good, min-“

he quickly puts a finger up to his mouth, reminding you to not say his real name.

“ah! sorry! it feels fine, lee know.

minho smiles and kisses your cheek, before moving up to sit in front of the camera to show you off.

“this is what the harness should look like when it’s completed. did you follow along? im sure you did such a good job. you always do, y’know?”

j.onee: it would be better if u did it on me instead food for thought

ppup_m1nnie: j.one a simp fr

cbinniwh0re: hes not letting you hit bro

j.onee: SHUT UP

“silly things. getting impatient? should we move on to the fun part of the stream?”

the chat moves at a crazy speed. a few eager viewers have already donated and sent requests, but minho already knows what he wants to do today.

minho adjust you to sit center in front of the camera. he picks up two toys to play with, and holds them to the camera. letting chat decide what he’ll use on your restricted form first.

in his left hand, he holds a pretty clit sucker with purple accents. in his right, he holds a black riding crop with a red heart.

“i’ll be nice and give you a choice today, hm? say A if you wanna see me use this clit sucker on her pretty pussy before i fuck her brains out, or B if you want me to mark her ass red with the crop. choose wisely between pleasure or pain.”

ppup_m1nnie: B

cbbang97: B for sure

bbok.flx: srry but B would be so hot god

j.onee: A PLS OMG

ppup_m1nnie: …

ppup_m1nnie: block j.one

j.onee: BRUH

“hm..looks like B is the winner. you wanna see her suffer that bad, huh?”

minho places the clit sucker on his bedside for later use. he sits back behind you, putting his hand over your eyes and dragging the smooth leather of the crop along your back.

his jaw drops with yours in faux arousal, imagining how you must feel. he takes his hand off your eyes and pushes you face down on the bed. he feels your pretty ass in his hands, you know he loves your ass.

minho stops teasing and lets the crop crack down on your ass for the first time. you yelp loud like a puppy, flinching at the sting. it hurts, but the first time only makes you wanna feel more. you swallow and relax your bdoy for him, waiting for his next strike.

“color?”

“green.”

“i love you.”

“i know. i love you too, min-“

the next hit lands right after your sentence. this one feels like fire, it ignites with pain but burns like pleasure through your dripping cunt.

“what’s my name?”

“mm’fuck..lee know?”

“wrong.”

minho pulls you up by a firm grip on the ropes tied around your arms, his mouth right next to your ear. you squirm in the ropes uselessly in his grasp.

“what’s my name, whore.

“lee know! it’s lee know!”

this time it’s his hand that corrects you, spanking you once with a harder force than the crop. he moves you closer by your neck slightly, pressing your red ass against his bulge, wetting the fabric.

“if you keep getting it wrong i’ll just keep hurting you. you know what i wanna hear from that dirty mouth, slut. you’re doing this to yourself.”

you can barely respond. his words alone have your mind fuzzy and dumb for him already, and his cock isn’t even in you yet.

“answer me. i won’t ask you again.”

you’re quickly woken up from your daze when minho lets go of you and drops you down on the bed. the ropes on your arms make you fall directly on your chest, ending with a painful hit with the crop. this one hurt the most, but it also had you crying out in pleasure for your dom.

“sir! sir- that’s your fucking name, sir..fucking feels so good..”

“ah, so you do know how to use your words.”

“please..need your big cock s’bad, sir..”

you grind your hips down on his bulge desperately as more begs spill from your lips.

“well, you know the rules. if they wanna see that, they have to give me their fucking money.”

minho grinds himself back on your pussy, letting out a few shaky breaths at the feeling of the tension in his pants being slightly relieved. he looks at the camera with a slutty expression on his face.

“fuck..you all have been so good, i think you deserve a reward. wanna see me fuck this bitch into the mattress?”

fck_hyune: god fuck yes

j.onee: fucking a dildo rn thinking of you

j.onee: wish it was your fucking cock pounding me instead while i eat her out

bbok.flx: realest take ive ever heard

i.yen.01: i wish i was HIM. her little noises are so cute jsndbn

“seems like a yes. you all know the drill, get the donations up to eight hundered and this cock is all yours.”

minho flips you over on your back restraints and unzips his pants, he makes a show out of pulling his dripping cock out of his boxers. he’s always been big, that attitude he has isn’t for nothing. he bats his lashes at the camera, while circling his thick, pink tip with his thumb.

he dips his thumb into his slit and lets out a faint moan at the feeling. he chuckles shyly at the noise he made and teases his chat.

“ah..look at it fucking dripping..this is what you paid for.”

fck_hyune: im so broke now but ts is worth every penny so far

cbinniwh0re: hey who says i need to pay rent

j.onee: fuckk i need that fucking cock in my mouth noww ur streams are torture.

minho looks down at you, he moves the hair out of your face and circles his hand soothingly along the small of your back.

“still okay, sweet girl? ropes good?”

you arch your back and squirm your arms to show him that the ropes are secure and not too tight.

“hm. okay. color?”

“green, jus’ want your cock.”

you pout. minho hums and running his cock through your folds, collecting the wetness on his tip and jerking it softly. he runs his finger up a vein and throbs around nothing till more precum drips down his cock.

all you can hear are the obscene sounds of him jerking his wet cock and letting out soft airy moans. it torture. you just want him inside you, but the ropes leave you helpless and pliant as you just whine impatiently at his sounds.

without warning, he spreads you open and slides his cock inside, forcing more in with short, forceful thrusts. he circles his hips inside you slowly once he’s all the way in.

“fuck! sir, yes! so fucking big.. mmplease fuck me please i’m such a good girl-“

minho shoves your head down into the pillows and grabs something off the counter. you feel something attach to your clit and start sucking it roughly. the clit sucker from earlier. it’s too much. you squirm your hips around, but all that does is work minho inside you deeper.

“if you’re such a good girl, then fucking take it.”

minho graps the ropes on your wrists as leverage to pull you back on his cock over and over. he just started moving and he’s already pounding the shit out of you. the double stimulation of the suction on your clit and the cock rubbing along your g-spot, already has you close.

“ah! fuck! fuckfuckfuck sir don’t fucking stop please..”

“gonna cum already? go ahead but im not stopping till i cum.”

he reaches under you and clicks the clit sucker into a higher setting that has you squirting around his cock in seconds. your eyes roll back as your thighs tremble and drip from your intense orgasm.

minho takes the clit sucker off of your puffy, wet clit and leans forward, he places his hands on either sides of your waist and fucks into you roughly. pounding your pussy just the way you like.

your brain is absolute mush. you’ve never cum that quickly before in your life, and he won’t stop.

“you like that huh? like being my little fucktoy on livestream? want everyone to see your little pussy leak my cum everywhere?”

“yes! fuck yes, pleaseplease- mark me, claim my fucking cunt, sir..”

“okay. just for you..fuck, i’m gonna cum..”

with a few more satisfying thrusts and he’s spilling inside you. rutting out his orgasm inside you and placing sweet kisses down your back.

“sweet girl..milking my cock. keep all my fucking cum, you earned it. such a good girl.”

minho pulls out, you’re about to protest till you feel something else sliding inside you. minho places a pretty, red plug in your pussy, keeping all his cum inside you.

“shh. you can rest for a second while i wrap up stream, okay? i love you.”

“i know, i love you too. minho.” you whisper.

. . .

“so! did you all enjoy the stream? did you get to cum too? i hope so.”

j.onee: i don’t think i’ve ever cum so hard in my life

fck_hyune: ..i don’t know which of you i’d rather be honestly

“im glad you did, but! it’s time to say goodbye. don’t be sad though. the next stream is in a week anyway so stay tuned. say bye bye!”

bbok.flx: awe bye bye ;(

cbinniwh0re: byebye silly

cbbang97: ill miss youuuuu

ppup_m1nnie: bye yall

j.onee: ILY SEE U IN A WEEK

ppup_m1nnie: glazer

“hm, see you soon, j.one.”

j.onee: OH MY GOD

ppup_m1nnie: oh shit

taglist: @estella-novella @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @theresstardustinmyblood @annafeebou @pancake-freckle @elizalabs3 @minniesverse @loxgirl2004 @mintymintmint251 @y-ur--i @liv1sworld

pink=didnt work

[ilwonuu]

𐦍༘?can i 𐦍༘⋆

↬ choi seungcheol

𓇣 pairing- nonidol!cheol x fem reader, dom!seungcheol x sub!reader, bestfriend!cheol x fem reader, friends to lovers<3

𓇣 summary- your best friend calls you late at night for something other than a innocent hangout.

𓇣 warnings- dumb confessing love to each other, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, cum swallowing, kissing, MDNI, lmk what else

𓇣 a/n- this is just a random fic that u wrote a long time ago.. i liked it enough to post so lmk what you think!! should i write a part two? ALSO IM BACK FROM LITERALLY NOT POSTING FOR DAYS!!!! im posting a lot of fics today<3 luv u guys 😡

tossing and turning in your bed has gotten you wide awake. you’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past hour. it now being 1:30am as glance at your clock.

you sigh closing your eyes again before you start to get a call. you groan reaching for your phone. seeing it’s seungcheol you make a confused expression, pressung answer.

“cheol? it’s so late what’s up?” you question and he just sighs. “okay- um this is gonna sound crazy but can i pick you up? i’ve been thinking you all night.” he confesses. his voice sounding tense but lust filled.

“thinking about me? what do you mean?” you are beyond confused now, wanting him to explain it. of course cheol has said something like this to you before, but this time it feels different.

“just let me come get you and i’ll explain then. can i?” he asks. you don’t even know why but your mouth is immediately saying that you would love for him to pick you up.

you having no control when it comes to cheol. you sigh again as you force yourself out of the warmth of your bed to grab some pants to throw on.

quickly changing as you know cheol, how fast he would get to your house. speaking of, your phone lights up with a text from the boy telling you he’s outside. you slip on your slippers and head out of your house into his car.

“well good morning to you.” you say sarcastically as you get into the passenger seat. “can i just drive and explain? it’s kind of a lot to take in.” he starts to drive to your guys usual spot to watch the sunset. you couldn’t do that now obviously…

“so.. were you asleep when i called?” “no unfortunately i haven’t been sleeping very well and these were one of the completely sleepless nights.” he sighs not taking his eyes of the road.

“i’m sorry i hope you can sleep better tomorrow.” he says looking at you for a moment to give you a soft smile before finally arriving at your spot.

“are you gonna tell me why you wanted to pick me up at 2 in the morning?” you turn your gaze to him and he just nods. “don’t freak out okay-“ he cuts himself off.

“y/n- i’m in love with you. and everyday i’m more and more in love with you. i couldn’t get confessing to you off my mind. i wanted you to know in person.” he says looking at you for a reaction, response, anything.

“cheol i-“ he sighs thinking he already knows what you’re gonna say. “i know you don’t feel the same. i had a feeling you didn’t but i just need to tell you okay? it was killing me and i just don’t want anything to be weird now-“ you stop his words with your finger.

“cheol shut up. i’m in love with you too.” you confess as well catching him completely off guard. “wait are you serious? don’t mess with me that’s not funn-“ you cut him with a kiss against his lips.

“you believe me now?” he nods pulling you to kiss him again. “you don’t know how bad i wanted to do that.” he admits with a deep sigh.

“cheol-you know-i- me too.” his hands intertwined with yours. you feel so safe with him. you want nothing more than to be his. you want him to be yours.

“y/n i- please let me kiss you again.” and that’s how you ended up here. on your knees in the backseat next to your best friend, reaching for his dick as he fucks his fingers into you.

“cheol-“ he smirks down at you. “feel good baby? keep going.” you nod at his words finally pulling his dick out of his pants. shocked at the size of course. you have never been with anyone with a dick this big- nearly coming on his fingers.

“go ahead, let me see you baby.” he’s looking down at you with intimidating eyes. you give his dick a couple strokes causing him to hiss but mindlessly ruts his hips up with your hand.

you kitten lick the tip of his dick not breaking eye contact with him. a load groan erupting from him. his fingers are starting to fuck into you faster. your moans against him making him crazy.

“fuck just like- that. feels so fucking good.” his hips moving with your mouth as you fuck yourself back onto his fingers.

“look at you. o-oh fuck” your mouth speeding up on his cock. his fingers curling inside of you causing you to moan. you gag on his dick as his hips start to meet your mouth.

you cum on his fingers hard as you feel him start to fuck your mouth. he fucks his fingers into slowly before pulling them out to bring them up to his mouth.

he hums before groaning when he sees you looking up at him. he pulls his fingers out his mouth, his hand inching to your ass rather quickly.

“i’m gonna- fuck i’m coming. you’re so beautiful.” his cum shooting deep into your mouth as his hips fuck up with his groans.

you keep eye contact with him as you swallow. he groans trying not to fuck your mouth again. you sit up to kiss him.

“you’re so pretty.” he gives you a big smile as the two of you get dressed. you blush and look away from him. “want to come to my house?” he smiles at you.

[goldsainz]

THE COOLEST DRIVER — one shot.

pairing: lando norris x reader

MASTERLIST.

summary: when you introduced lando to your siblings, you didn’t think they would become so attached.

request: “Lando × reader. Your younger siblings who are 2 and 3 are crazy about Lando. Lando is amazing with them they don't like when you to hug/ kiss him Though. "No he's mine!" Your sister says as she pushes you away. When you go for a kiss. "My Lando time" your brother says. Snuggling into Lando. You find it adorable but annoying. Fans love it.”

warnings: im pretty sure that none

NOTE: thank you for requesting!!!! so this is short and sweet, and i also added a little smau at the end 🫶 i’m in my lando obsessed era. so if you suddenly see a lot of lando content posted, just let it be. silverstone grand prix has me so so excited, can’t wait… also fingers crossed lewis gets podium🤞

[ word count: 737 ]

Lando and you had been going out for quite some time now. It was as serious as a relationship could get, and evidently, he had met your family. 

It was no surprise when your siblings got obsessed with him and just about followed him everywhere. They wanted to go to every Grand Prix you went to, because if you could, why couldn't they? It took quite some time for them to understand that you were an adult, and as such could do what you pleased. 

Your brother adored Lando. He tuned in for every race and Lando quickly became his idol, even though he would never really say it out loud. Suddenly, he wanted to be a driver too. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help him out with his dream, and since he was so little, he could have a shot at doing it for a long time. 

Your sister however, seemed to like Lando in a completely different way. Whenever she saw Lando he would hug him while burying her face in his neck, hiding her smitten face. There was no way you could ever kiss or even be too close to Lando if she was present, not if you wanted to avoid the tantrum she would throw. Claiming Lando was hers, and that you were stealing him from her. 

Lando loved your siblings. It was refreshing to have such support from little humans, who idolised him and always got excited to see him. So it was no surprise when for this year’s Silverstone Grand Prix, his home race, he invited your whole family to the paddock.

When you broke the news to your siblings they ran to hug Lando, their excitement almost pushing him off balance as he attempted to hold both of them at the same time. It was a sight to behold, and you wished you would've gotten it on camera because it was just too precious. 

“Go pack your bags!” You told them, watching as they scrambled to their rooms.

“I can’t believe they are coming.” Lando says, one wrapped around your waist, pulling you in for a side hug.

“They can’t even believe it themselves.” 

You watched your parents talk with Lando over the schedule, all while holding you in his arms. They both couldn’t stop expressing their gratitude, and your boyfriend just repeated that it was his pleasure and there was nothing he would love more than having all of you there. 

His sweet words made your heart rush, and you turned to face him just for a quick peck since your parents were still around. You should have known what a bad idea that was, because all of a sudden your siblings appear in the room and they cannot hold in their disgust. 

“Ew!” Your brother shouted, covering his face with his little hands.

Your sister ran to push you off of Lando, not liking the sudden closeness. Your mother rolled her eyes at the dramatics your siblings loved to display. Lando just brushed off your mother’s concern, more amused at the reaction than anything. 

“Hey! We’re not going to Silverstone if you behave like that.” You tell them, you know you’re lying because there is no way you are not taking them. Not when you know how excited they are.

“No!” Your sister screeches, wrapping her arms around Lando’s leg as if to show how much she wants to go.

“Did you pack your bags?” Lando asks your sister, kneeling down to her level. 

“Yes.” She says, her voice muffled now that she has thrown her arms around him.

“And your brother?” 

“I think so.”

Your brother takes his hands off of his face the moment he hears he was mentioned. Moving to sit beside Lando, an annoyed look passes his face as he watches his sister.

“You excited to go to Silverstone?” Your boyfriend asks, knowing full well your brother is bursting at the seams of excitement. 

“Very!”

“Is there anyone you’re excited to meet?” 

“Lewis!” 

“Lewis?” Lando asks, a smile creeping onto his face as he hears the emotion on your brother’s voice. 

“He’s so cool!” 

“Is he?”

“Yes!” A giggle pushes its way past your brother’s lips, suddenly bashful at the admission.

“Cooler than me?”

“No, silly.” He says with an obvious tone, face palming himself as if the answer was obvious, “You’re the coolest driver ever!” 

“That’s what I like to hear!” 

[cranberryjuice-posts]

A BRAINROT THAT I CANT LET GO OF!!

VAMPIRE!DAUGHTER OF HADES!READER X CLARISSE

Like Clarisse finds out cus reader was like feeding off a animal or smth and offers reader to feed on her instead if reader uses her superspeed to like win capture the flag or something!

Maybe a camper sees a old scarred bite mark on Clarisse and asks about it but Clarisse quickly makes a excuse 👀 (they eventually date ofc)

- Apex predator -

Pairings - Clarisse La rue x Fem! Vampire! Daughter of hades! Reader

An - this is pretty short and rushed I’m sry I had a comp today and I just wanted to get sum out🙁🙁🙏

“Y/n!” Clarisse yelled running around the forest.

You heard her. Only problem you were to busy to answer. Clarisse continued to move about the forest trying to find you.

After a few minutes the stronger girl noticed you crouched down with your back facing her. “Shit.. there you are” the girl panted. You didn’t respond only keeping yourself hidden from her. “Hello? Babe what are yo-“ clarisse stopped once she saw blood pooling around you.

Cautiously clarisse set her spear down against a tree before slowly stepping to you.

You were frozen not knowing what to do, if clarisse saw what you were doing she would hate you and if you ran she would be suspicious. In anxious thoughts you hadn’t realized clarisse turned you around.

Once the She had saw you with a dead rabbit in hands and blood dripping from your mouth she looked down at you with horror. Taking a step back clarisse grabbed her spear storming off.

You threw the dead rabbit aside quickly getting up and chasing after the girl. “Wait wait please let me explain” desperately you tried to catch up to clarisse who was now walking away.

“Explain what!” She turned around looking You up and down “explain why you were eating a dead rabbit raw?! Yeah I would love to hear about how my girlfriend is a psycho”

“Clarisse please” You begged grabbing her arms. “I know this is weird but I can explain I just need you to trust me” looking in her eyes you watched as clarisse started to calm down. “Fine” she bitterly spoke. “Explain”

You let out a slow breath before speaking “being the daughter of hades im a forbidden kid.. I had been killed a long time ago and in an attempt to save me my dad made a deal with thanatos to bring me back but even that costed something, my humanity. In Order to keep living and aging like a normal person I have to drink blood”

Clarisse looked like she didn’t belive You but at the same time she knew the gods did unbelievable things. “So what your a vampire now or something” she scoffed, nodding your head you looked down embarrassed by it all. “I’m sorry.. I know I should of told you but it’s just… fuck” you sighed

After a few moments clarisse grabbed your face, confused you followed the girls lead allowing you to turn your face in different directions. Eventually she pried your mouth open taking a look at your sharp K-9’s.

Clarisse sighed pulling You Close by your waist into a hug. “You should of told me” she kissed your forehead. “We’re having a talk about this later ok, a serious sit down talk got it” she pulled back holding your face. You nodded once again placing your hand over hers. “Good, now I need you to come with me to do something to get the flag”

———

“And That’s Everything” You sighed, sitting on your girlfriends lap as you both were in clarisses bed. Clarisse nodded rubbing soft circles on your hips. “Have you ever tried to feed off a person?” She asked looking up at you.

You shrugged your shoulders “once I mean human blood holds me over much longer than rabbit or animal but I don’t know anyone who willingly would let me do that”

Shifting around some clarisse pulled her camp shirt collar down tapping her neck. You looked confused earning you an annoyed scoff from clarisse “do you need an invitation just do what ever it is you do”

“Are You Sure? It’s gonna leave a mark I don’t know”

“I don’t care about a damn mark”

Debating it for a second you sighed leaning forward. Sinking your teeth into clarisses neck you punctured the girls skin. Immediately sucking on her neck you reveled in the warmness of the girls blood.

After a few moments You pulled pack panting. Looking at clarisse you started to laugh as the tough girl covered her face from how flustered she was.

“You liked that?”

“Fuck off”

You leaned in giving her a teasing peck on the lips, laughing as the girl jokingly complained.

——

Random camper - Jesus clarisse what happened to your neck

Clarisse - Thats none of your damn business

[thelastofhyde]

you cut your hair, and take some space (2)

pairing. narcos!javier peña x fem!reader

synopsis. an anthology of events that precede and procede the termination of you and your father's best friend's sexual relationship. this is part 2 of 3! (part 1)

warnings. no use of y/n! all spanish text is followed by immediate translation ( please note that i am fluent in castilian spanish, therefore some words/phrases may differ from that of other hispanic countries ), age gap , student!reader, dbf!javi, post-s3!javi, policeofficer!javi bc i said so, break up au, mutual pining, forbidden lovers kind of vibes, reader has a healthy relationship with her parents, violence, nondescript depictions of sa ( not javi ), pedro-ception aka there's a small cameo of another pedro boy, vomiting, mentions of pregnancy, reader is described to have hair and celebrates christmas ( but no mention of the reader's religious beliefs )! smut ( creampie, breeding kink through the roof, domesticity kink?? javi just wants to love and be loved and start a family, dacryphilia, indecent use of a credit card, spanking, dirty talk, prostitution kink?? i feel like i'm making these up at this point, + a hell of a lot more ) this fic is based on bsc by maisie peters except this has a happy ending bc im a sucker for mr. peña :( not all warnings listed here appear in this part, these are warnings for the fic as a whole !

word count. 14.3k

hyde’s input. hey... hey... how y'all doin'?🧍remember when i said part 2 would be posted a few weeks after part 1? yeah, that was a fucking lie. and, remember when i said it would be 2 parts in total? that was also a lie! the universe is praying on my downfall ( i had a fun mental health episode and fell into a black hole for a few months <3 ) unfortunately, i am very much still alive and kicking, so this is me trying to get the ball rolling again when it comes to posting fics. as the fic has surpassed 40k words, meaning it would likely crash the tumblr site for anyone trying to read it + tumblr will not allow me to post it as a whole due to it's paragaph-count limit, i've decided to post it in three parts. the fic will be posted in full on ao3 once all three parts are available on tumblr!

if you see any typos, no you didn't 🫣

“...wouldn’t have to be serious,” he’s speaking, finishing off a sentence you don’t quite catch the start of. “huh?” “this. us. it could be casual, y’know?”

Golden boy, you dropped the ball I am Annie fucking Hall

The year moves too fast.

It’s like you blink, and suddenly it’s Thanksgiving.

Leaves turn brown. Pumpkins are carved only to rot upon front porches. A gathering of friends, young adults getting their first taste at hosting a thanksgiving meal.

You’re put on dessert duty, which culminates in stressful tears and your mother’s hand rubbing soothing circles into your back, reassuring you that it’s okay, everyone burns their first pie.

No one at the party needs to know the pumpkin pie you brought was a product of your mother’s gentle care.

Then there is actual Thanksgiving, which you celebrate, as always, at your aunt's.

The highlight is, and forever has been, the road-trip out of state, your father making it his mission to deafen you and your mother with his horrific singing.

As they drop you back at your apartment, your father has no qualms leaning out the car window and calling after you.

“I expect to see you cheering me on at the Thanksgiving Touchdown event!”

Which brings you here, to said event, sweater sleeves tugged over cold fingers and a wandering pair of eyes who refuse to comply with your wants.

You want to focus on the ongoing football match- Fire Department vs Police.

Your eyes prefer to follow him, striding up the field, his hair soaked in sweat and his t-shirt long removed.

You’ve no valid reason to roll your eyes at the other women who seem to prefer spectating the sport of Javier Peña. You’re no better than them.

Yet, as one of them let’s out a joyous shriek as he takes a pass at the ball, your eyes roll.

"He’s a show-off, that boy.”

At least you have company. An older gentleman, who you caught struggling to pick his wallet up from the floor. He’d smiled as you returned it, and conversation had flowed easily from there.

As the whistle blew, commencing the final match of the local community services’ football league- or, Thanksgiving Touchdown, as your father so aptly named it-, he’d patted the empty seat next to him.

“Hmm?”

He points, and you follow the direction, realising he’s speaking about Javi.

“Him,” he says it with a teasing tone to his voice. It’s like he’s mocking the agent. “Think’s he’s God’s gift, takin’ his top off like that.”

The more you sit with the older gentleman, the more you enjoy his company.

On the field, your dad bellows something at Javi. He replies with a curt salute, and shoots off down the length of it.

He’s fast, agile, stealthy.

A force to be reckoned with, keeping pace with rookies half his age.

The vision of him, gun strapped to his leg and a tact vest on his chest, speeding down streets in the columbian heat conjures in your mind.

You wonder how it felt to know him then, if worry kept his companions awake.

It had certainly kept you awake in recent months, and that was with him safe, in Laredo, cooped up in some bachelor pad.

“Surprised he’s not thrown his top to the crowd of screaming ladies!” The gentleman continues his mocking, and it rouses laughter out of both of you.

A whistle is blown, your eyes return to the field and, though he’s quick to look away, you catch the tail end of Javier’s eyes on you.

Fifteen minutes pass, in which you do your best to not stare at him.

You’ve made worse attempts in the past.

Eventually, the man next to you coaxes you into getting him a lemonade from the food truck.

You oblige, of course, and deny his attempts to hand you cash, insist it’s on you.

He’s kept you smiling on a rather gloomy day.

You tell him you’ll be right back, smile, and realise you don’t know his name.

“Chucho,” he tells you, and waves you off.

You join the queue, keep your head down, ignore the gossiping women three spots ahead of you, claiming to have each shared an encounter with Javi.

You don’t need to know what he’s been up to.

You don’t want to know who he’s been up to it with.

It happens when you’re finally being served.

There’s no longer a queue, just you, smiling as sweetly as possible. The service industry is rough enough, nevermind on holidays.

You order successfully, both Chucho’s lemonade and a hot chocolate for yourself.

The guy working the truck- young enough, a bit too traditionally good-looking, with coiffed hair and a shaven face- he’s talkative.

Friendly.

Too friendly.

Till it crosses the border into flirty.

You’re not interested.

At all.

But it’s flattering, to feel wanted.

Even more so after a something that means nothing yet everything ends out of the blue and you’re left reeling over whether or not some part of you is to blame.

So you let him shoot you his dashing smile, and throw in unnecessary pet-names that just feel forced into every sentence he speaks to you, and write his number on the paper cup of your hot chocolate.

“Here you go, pumpkin,” he winks. The pet-name feels a little too on the nose for the season. Couldn’t he have called you sweetheart instead? “A sweet treat for that sweet smile.”

You wonder if he’s allowed to gift the free donut he slides your way.

Your stomach growls and begs for sugary release before you can fully bring yourself to care.

An awkward thanks. Hands reach up to grab the to-go cups, three fingers curling up the bagged donut. 

He helps you get a grip on the beverages, placing them in your hands.

His touch lingers, more than necessary, fingertips brushing over your knuckles as if trapped in slow-motion.

“So, a pretty girl like you got a boyfriend, or are you gonna let me take you out to-”

Gasps fill the air.

Half the crowd boos.

Your father screams one name, loud and clear, down the pitch.

“Peña, get your head out your fucking ass and pick up the ball!”

Turning on your heal, the scene unfolds.

The ball, abandoned on the ground.

The players, scrambling to grab it before one another.

Javier, frozen in place, face an unreadable maze of emotions, eyes staring right at you.

They follow you all the way back to your seat, even as the game picks up again.

Even as you congratulate your dad on another victory for the police department, now the four-time consecutive champions of the Thanksgiving Touchdown.

Even as you head off to your father’s car.

Even when you’re home, curled under a blanket and watching a televised copy of Annie Hall, you feel his eyes on you.

The look of betrayal on Javier Peña haunts you even once you fall asleep.

If you don’t love me, What was April?

You’ve always been organised.

Everything has it’s place, from the books that line your bedside table to the memories inside your mind.

You compartmentalise.

Tucked deep into the right side of your brain, there’s a box.

It’s contents, memories you’ve yet to process.

Moments you know that, if you wish to move on, you’ll have to relive.

Caution tape holds the lid shut.

Fragile stickers cover every corner.

And, scribbled in bold red marker, April ‘99.

A late night.

You, wide awake, laying on your back and mapping out stars in his ceiling.

Javier fell asleep hours ago and now snores softly against your neck, muscled arm curled around your waist as his legs entangle your own.

The agent is a fiend for cuddling, and so often wraps himself around you like a vine.

You find yourself nestling your hand in his hair, and take note of the sharp breath he intakes.

Go still.

Worry you’ve woken him.

Relax when you feel him snore and press himself even deeper against your naked skin.

He’s tired. Exhausted.

Work was getting to him as of late.

He hadn’t told you that, but he didn’t need to.

You know him. You can read him.

Can tell in the way he moved slower against you.

In the way he let you take the lead, resting back against the couch to watch how your hips wound down on him.

In the way he got even clingier than usual, dragging you into the shower with him just to have you near, holding you from behind as you washed up the plates he’d used to serve you dinner (a trade-off he’d reluctantly agreed to months ago: he cooks, you clean), laying his head on your lap as you curled up to watch some cheesy horror movie- one you’re bound to fall asleep during and he’s counting on it, glancing up till he spots you slumped over and eyes closed, granting him the perfect excuse to carry you to his bed and nestle himself in beside you.

Unlike other nights, you’re trapped awake.

Something feels off, makes you queasy.

There’s something nagging at your mind.

It’s like you’ve forgotten something, misplaced something, and can’t even figure out what it is.

You just know its absence is wrong.

Javi mumbles something, dreaming away, and you feel the subtle press of his lips against your skin.

Fingers curl tightly into the fabric of your (his) shirt.

He can’t get you close enough, it seems.

Playing against his wants, you pull back, slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

There’s a pinch between his brows, furrowed in worry.

It’s not fair, you think.

Sleep is usually where you see him at his calmest.

It’s a selfish act, born purely from your own desire, but you find yourself pressing a kiss against his forehead.

His grip loosens, though slightly.

It gives you enough time to feel a stir between your thighs, a calling coming from your bladder.

So you do your best to slip out his hold.

It’s a struggle that leaves you topless and feeling a pinch of cruelty, standing over the bed as you watch his hand grabbing at the vacant spot you once occupied, your scent and shirt the only traces you leave behind.

You don’t bother turning on a light, make your way to his bathroom with practiced ease.

Pad your way across the cold linoleum floor, sink down onto the porcelain seat- he’d stopped leaving it up when your overnight visits became more frequent. You hadn’t asked- didn’t need to ask-, he’d simply done it.

Closing the door over, yet not enough for the hinges to squeak and the handle to lock, you pray the wood muffles noise of the flushing toilet.

When it stops, you wait a few seconds, until you’re sure there’s no rustling coming from his bedroom.

Then, you open the tap.

The water is barely a trickle, yet you tell yourself its enough.

Lather your hands in soap, sit them under the constant drip of cold water till you feel the suds wash down the drain.

It’s hard to stop yourself from sneaking a glance at the mirror, just as it’s hard to recognise the version of yourself you see.

Your hair frames your face, though messy.

Your eyes are bloodshot, yet carry less bags.

Your cheeks are rounder, fuller.

You look different.

You feel it too.

Yhen come the thoughts of Javier, and how he sees you.

Has he noticed a change?

Is he the reason for it?

Does he feel different, too?

Your stomach flips.

He’s not said anything. Or done anything, to make you notice a change.

But, then, Maybe it’s been subtle, slow, dragged out long enough it’s not drastic enough for either of you to take note of.

You eye the spare toothbrush he keeps in his bathroom, and try to remember when it became yours.

You don’t remember.

One moment, his toothbrush sat alone. And, the next, you were standing side by side, laughing as you raced to see who could make a foamier mess of the toothpaste.

Corazón, you look like a rabid animal, he’d called you once, laughing through tears as he wiped away the white suds dripping off your chin. You’re lucky that you’re just so cute.

You can recall, even now, how quickly his mouth had found yours that night, with no ulterior motive other than to bask in the minty taste of one another.

The stir in your stomach becomes more intense.

Eyes refocusing, you find yourself in the mirror again.

Only, sweat lines your forehead and your face seems drained of colour.

You make it only two steps back before you’re hurtling across the bathroom floor.

Your knees crash down first, harsh and unforgiving against the tiles.

The first wretch burns, has you coughing over your own gag.

In the dark, it’s hard to see what exactly comes out of you, but you know where it came from.

Your stomach.

Another wave of nausea hits, this one harder, and you’re gripping at the sides of the bowl, spewing into the water below.

A splash meets your cheek, but you’re too out of it to care, wave after wave of nausea leaving you a coughing, gagging, crying mess.

You feel lightheaded, only managing a moment to catch your breath before another wave hits.

It feels like you’re suffocating.

It’s in your throat, in your mouth, in your nose, in your hair.

It feels like it’s never stopping and you’re doomed to spend the rest of your days submitting to the horrors of throwing-

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” warmth, against your naked back.

It’s a nice warmth, not like the one that has you covered in a cold sweat.

There’s a soothing motion over your skin.

Up, down, up, down.

You try to follow it, match your breathing to the tactile comfort.

“That’s it, baby,” cool air meets your neck, the hairs that stuck to your skin now pulled up and pushed back. “I’m right here, I got you.”

Eventually, all that’s left is the burning of bile at the back of your throat and the dull ache of eyes gone raw with tears.

You’re pulled into a solid mass, naked chest pressed to naked chest as you go slack upon the bathroom floor.

You’re exhausted, and covered in your own sweat, tears and vomit.

Javier doesn’t care, pulling you tighter against him and whispering sweet words you don’t quite pay attention to.

“Woke up and you weren’t there, corazón. Don’t do that again,” even in his attempts to chastise, he’s gentle, brushing the remaining strands of sweat-slicked hair off your face. You must be an awful sight, yet his expressions don’t give way. “You wake up, you wake me up too. ‘Specially if you’re gonna hurl, okay?”

You glance at him, swallow back a lump and deal with the realisation that dawned upon you ten minutes earlier, as you sat hunched over the toilet’s bowl.

“Javi,” he smiles at the way you call his name.

You feel sick all over again at the thought of that changing, everything changing, as you build the courage to speak.

He calls your own name back to you.

“I’m late.”

You await the sharp inhale.

And the unwinding of arms.

You imagine he’ll stand up, pace the floor.

Run his hands through his hair, rant over every thought he has.

Ways to get rid of it, the dangers of your dad finding out.

Then he’ll turn the blame to you.

That’s what men do, right?

He’ll ask why you weren’t safer, why you forgot to take that morning-after pill, why you played so fast-and-loose with your body.

None of it arrives.

He stands, yes, but only to pull you up with him, tired limbs leaning into his strong build as he drags you both under the heat of a warm shower.

You watch the remnants of your own vomit wash down the drain, and question how he can stand there, not disgusted with you.

He dries you off, delicate drags over your skin.

He’s rougher with himself, scarcely drying properly before he’s carrying you back to his bed, a replay of hours earlier as he lays you down, crawls in behind you and tucks you both under the soft comfort of his worn-out sheets.

Only, this time you’re wide awake.

He so easily nestles himself behind you, dragging you back against him and committing himself to the role of big-spoon.

His hands have always felt large, their touch always electrifying, but nothing compares to the feeling of him splaying one across your lower stomach, a subtle press into where part of him could be growing within you.

“Javi,” you whine, fighting off the sleep your overwhelmed body so badly needs. “I’m sorry.”

You say it because you feel obligated, like it’s your place to be apologetic.

After all, the blame is yours, surely.

“No seas boba (Don’t be silly),” there’s a fresh set of tears already sliding down your cheeks by the time he replies. “Don’t need to be sorry, baby.”

“But I-”

“But, nothing,” his tone feels final, one that tells you you’ll get nowhere arguing against him. “You’ve done nothing wrong, corazón.”

You fall asleep, eventually, soothed by his gentle breathing and the repeated motion of his thumb stroking over your belly.

Yhe next time you awake, there’s a crack of sunlight creeping through his blinds.

Javi’s still in bed, only he’s propped up on his elbow and staring down at you.

His smile stretches a little wider when he spots your open eyes.

Lips press against your own, soft and subtle.

A quiet greeting, a wordless goodmorning.

“I gotta go, corazón,” is met with a protest from you, rolling over to curl into his solid chest.

Expecting it, he wraps you up tighter in his arms, presses an array of chaste kisses to your head.

You don’t want him to leave this bed.

Or this apartment.

You don’t want him out, in the real world, where the hours you’ve spent cooped up together become more scandalous than the peaceful nature of them.

“I know, I know. Don’t wanna go either, baby,” you wonder if you spoke your thoughts aloud, or if Javi simply knows you so well.

Eventually, he peels himself away from you.

You watch him dress.

Tell him which tie to wear.

Help him tie it, the comforter pooled around your naked waist as you sit criss-cross-apple-sauce and Javi’s at the side of the bed, legs bent at the knee.

He thanks you with a kiss, then asks you to pass him his cologne.

It’s on the other side of the bed- his side of the bed- and you lean over to grab it.

You don’t bother handing him it, spraying it directly onto your own wrist and dabbing it into the skin of his tanned neck.

He lets you, a gentle smile on his face and eyes that pull you in for a hug, burrowing himself between your naked breasts.

He presses a kiss between them, hums in enjoyment.

“You’re gonna smell like me all day, cariño (darling),” he tells you.

“Good,” you reply.

Another hum, this time of approval, and a squeeze to your hip.

When he pulls back, he looks even more reluctant to leave.

Reality rears it’s ugly head, but he pushes it out your mind with the pressing of his hand against your stomach, the same spot he’d held onto all night.

Leans down, brushes his lips against it.

Your hands instinctually curl in his hair, and you like to think you leave it a little messy, enough to ward off any of the women he works along side, hopeful eyes hoping to get a taste of the handsome, unmarried cop.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your skin, as if you’re the one who’s about to leave. “Don’t go, ok? I’ll call around lunch.”

He keeps his word.

Calls you, a few minutes past two, interrupting whatever daytime TV you were pretending to watch.

Answering leaves you feeling lightheaded, like you're trapped in a daydream.

Listening to him croon down the line while your finger anxiously tangles in the phone’s wire as you stand in his apartment, it feels domestic, like you’re waiting for him to come back home, a place you share together.

The thought has you pressing a hand against your womb.

“How bout you, corazón?” He knows how to make you melt, picturing him smiling at his desk. “Have you ate yet?”

With a grimace, you admit you haven’t.

“You need to eat, baby,” you don’t like the fact he uses that pet-name, not right now. “There’s plenty in the fridge. Could make yourself a sandwich, or some toast. Might even have some of that pasta left over. You know, that one you said you liked? Oh, wait, maybe don’t eat that, don’t think uncooked salmon is good for pregn-”

You don’t want him to say the P word, so you cut him off.

“I’ll probably just have toast.”

He says ok, then you hear him take a bite of whatever his lunch is.

The call goes on a little longer.

It’s mostly him talking.

He tells you a quick story, something about one of the younger guys accidentally stapling his tie to an arrest warrant.

That rouses a laugh out of you, makes you forget all about the massive P word he almost said.

“I’ll be home soon, okay?”

That sounds nice coming from Javi.

Home.

Not his home, just home.

A place he feels his soul at rest.

A place he’d begged you to stay this morning, safe and tucked away.

“Was thinking we could drive out to the clinic, find out for sure if we’re pr-” he cuts himself off this time, like he knows you’re not ready to hear that word. “Then we’ll take things from there, okay? Whatever you decide you wanna do, corazón, you call the shots.”

He keeps his word, again.

Comes home barely three hours later.

He walks through the door and welcomes the way you coil yourself around him, humming in delight as he peppers a few kisses over your face.

“Still smell like me,” he says it with approval, takes a purposeful whiff at you as he pulls you tighter against him.

You still smell his cologne on him too, buried beneath a few layers of sweat and cigarette smoke.

Near clinging to one another, it’s a miracle you two make it out his apartment and down the elevator.

An arm around your waist, he guides you over to his car.

Pulls the door open for you, stops you from bumping your head on the way in.

He practically runs round the car’s hood, jumping into the driver’s seat and thrumming the engine to life with the turn of a key.

“You remember to eat?” He asks as he pulls out onto the street.

You nod, then audibly reply.

Tell him you did in fact eat toast, leave out the part where you spewed your guts again twenty minutes later.

The drive is quiet.

Not uncomfortable, just relaxed, with the radio playing gently and his window rolled down enough to let in some air.

At some point, his hand slides over the console and rests against your thigh.

You welcome it, covering it with your own.

As you watch out the window how he drives past the turning for the local hospital, he must catch your questioning gaze.

“They, uh,” he clears his throat, rings his hand over the steering wheel. A small stain of sweat marks it. “Know your dad pretty well in there. And me. Figure you’d rather he not find out about us like that.”

He’s right.

So you relax back into your seat, accept the fact you’re both driving out of town together.

At some point, the beginning notes of your favourite song play through the stereo.

You instantly perk up, sitting up straighter in your seat and tap your foot a little to the beat.

Javi says nothing, simply peels his hand off you to turn the volume dial up.

Seconds later, he turns his head and throws you a look just asking if he’s done good.

You smile, and thread your fingers between his own.

A soft squeeze before he pulls them up to his lips, eyes back on the road.

The clinic is bright.

And squeaky, each step you take making you a little more nervous than the last.

Javier, by all accounts, is solid as a rock, signing you both in, picking up a few pamphlets, buying you a can of soda, all while you curl up in some plastic chair and just focus on not spewing your guts out.

You only relax once he’s sat beside you, helping you get a sip of the sugary drink and wrapping a protective arm around you.

You don’t mean to but you fall victim to sleep, the past 24 hours getting the best of you.

You come-to likely not much later, but to the sound of a childish giggle.

Cracking one eye open, just slightly, you notice you’re slumped into Javier, head on his shoulder.

There’s a giggling little girl in front of you both, in purple overalls and with two pigtails to hold her curly hair.

One of her hands is on Javi’s knees, using him to keep herself standing.

“First time?” You snap your eyes shut as a stranger’s voice fills the quiet bustle of the clinic.

A confused sound leaves Javier.

“Yeah, could tell from the look on your lady’s face,” the man continues. “Same one my own wife had during our first visit.”

You want to pay attention to Javi’s response, but you’re a bit busy dealing with the fact he’s not correcting the man, telling him you’re not his lady nor his wife.

His thumb soothes over your hip, and you wonder at what rate you’ll melt away into a pile of nothing thanks to his soft touches.

“You hoping for a boy or a girl?”

You tell yourself to try harder, to actually pay attention.

You succeed, catch as Javi replies, “a girl.”

“Yeah?” the stranger seems genuinely invested, it almost makes you want to open your eyes, see him for yourself.

But you don’t want to ruin the moment.

“Wanted a boy, myself,” that same little girl giggles again and you can’t fight the temptation to peek once more, catch as she crawls into her faceless-father’s lap. “Doc told us it was gonna be a boy, too. Then this one came along and, wouldn’t ya know, not a boy.”

“Surprise!” the little girl squeals, and you feel Javi’s shoulder shake under your head.

God, you want to look at him, see if he’s looking at her with the same adoration that’s festering in your heart.

“Yeah, baby, you’re my little Sarah-Surprise,” the man coos and, despite his rough accent, it suits him. Like he was only ever meant to speak with gentle words and a soft heart, all for his precious daughter. “It’ll get easier, on your lady, just so ya know. Less scary, more exciting. ‘Bout to welcome our second one, and I’ve never seen my wife so happy.”

Javi’s still not correcting him.

It makes you nauseous for a whole new reason.

“Mr. Miller?” A voice calls out.

A nurse, you imagine.

A chair squeaks as pressure is taken off it, the stranger standing.

You peak your eye open in time to see him picking his daughter up, her little legs dangling off his hip.

He takes a few steps, till Javi interrupts him.

“What,” he clears his throat, and you wonder if it’s of emotion. “What are you hoping for this time?”

“A girl.”

Eventually, it’s your turn.

You’d pretended to wake up to Javier’s coaxing.

Shuffled into some room, reluctantly separating from Javi.

A smiley nurse handed you a cup, talked you through what you needed to do for your tests.

Took your blood pressure, complimented your earrings, and stepped out the room to give you privacy.

A short while and a reunion with Javi later, you sat in a doctor’s office, both a nervous wreck as you clasped each other’s hand.

“Mrs. peña,” again, Javier does not correct the doctor. And you realise it’s because he filled out the forms, he signed you in. He wrote you down as Peña. “You and your husband are not pregnant.”

What should have followed was a sigh of relief, from both of you.

But all you felt was led drop in your stomach and Javier’s grip tighten on your hand.

“You are, however, displaying symptoms of acute food poisoning, likely salmonella.”

The doctor continues on, detailing a prescription you’re being given.

But it falls on deaf ears, the world around you gone blank as you wrestle with conflicting emotions.

You’re not pregnant.

You should be elated. Jumping, and cheering, and dancing all over the place. Instead, you’re silent, letting yourself be guided back into the car by Javi.

This time, the drive is silent.

Not quiet.

Silent.

You watch him drive past the turning into your street.

He doesn’t explain that he’s taking you back to his place.

Getting you back in his bed, switching off the lights, he curls himself in behind you and splays his hand over your stomach.

Over your empty womb.

For some reason, you find yourself sobbing into your pillow, unaware of the tears from him that stain your neck as he tries to hush you.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” the irony of him repeating those very same words last night is not lost on you.

It’s hard to move on, when every month there’s a stabbing pain in your abdomen and a trickle of blood staining your underwear to remind you of April.

And so you keep it locked in it’s box, slapping another caution tape over it’s lid as you groan and roll out your own bed, trudging your way into your bathroom to check if the wetness between your thighs is your monthly visitor.

You played a game But I run the table

You’re avoiding your dad’s calls.

It’s not because he’s done anything to warrant your rejection, but, rather, it’s the forthcoming actions he’ll be guilty of.

See, you know why he’s calling.

Your mom let it slip, over brunch and a few too many glasses of wine.

He’s hosting another poker night.

He wants you there, as always.

Some baseless theory of you being his good luck charm.

Or, at least, that’s what you were until the last poker night he’d hosted, way back in March.

He slips away, phoned by your tipsy mother and obligated to drive three towns over to go pick her up because she misses him.

“Fill in for me, will ya, kiddo?”

It was less a suggestion, more of a pleading, his hands already scraping the seat back and awaiting you to plop yourself down.

He leaves you with his hand, his winnings so-far, and a kiss to the top of your head.

“Watch out for Peña,” he whispered, as if you hadn’t been keeping an eye on the agent all evening, clouded by his own cigarette smoke and sitting looser each sip of his whiskey, no ice. “His poker face is dangerous.”

He turns out to be no threat.

None of the officer’s are, really.

Rounds end and rounds start, and you father’s pile of winnings grow more and more.

It’s an ego boost, taking money from these cocky men who look at you as though surely you have no clue what cards you’re holding.

But, taking from Javi?

That’s something else, entirely.

Each time you win, he gets more agitated.

Flinging down cards, muttering curses, shoving his cash across the table.

All whilst glaring, at you, eyes black with ire.

And intoxication.

And something else.

Something you know all too well on Javier.

Lust.

Nearly an hour’s past since your father left, someone else leaves the table.

Says he needs the toilet, you point him in the direction of it.

You all call for a break, and then you graciously offer a refill on drinks.

It’s what your dad would’ve done, kept them all drinking and lowering their inhibitions, their focus disappearing alongside it.

“I’ll help!” One of the officers exclaims.

He’s on the younger side.

Practically a rookie, it’s only the second poker night he’s attended.

He’s sweet, with his large-framed glasses and his nervous smile.

You both make your way out of the basement- refurbished to be your dad’s man-cave- and head towards the kitchen.

You open the fridge, grab however many bottles of beer you need.

He heads to the liquor cabinet, pulls out a bottle bourbon.

You beat him at grabbing the whiskey, an unvoiced need to be the one who refills Javi’s glass.

Maybe, he’ll offer you a sip.

Conversation flows naturally between you, in spite of him being a near stranger.

He asks about college.

You ask about working with your dad.

You both agree on the fact he’s a pain in the ass.

He tells you about a new bar, downtown.

You tell him where to go to get the best club sandwich.

It’s light, it’s easy, it’s friendly.

You’re enjoying his company.

nNeither of you can tell who causes it, but one of you mispronounces a word and you both wind up in a pile of giggles, falling over yourselves and banging into counters.

His hands grip his sides.

You’re clutching your chest.

Through wheezes, he repeats the phrase that left you both in this state.

You laugh harder, louder, warn him to stop before you lose control of your bladder.

Something thuds in the hallway, your eyes shoot up to the kitchen entry and you swear you see Javi’s retreating figure.

Blink a few times, realise there’s no one there.

You both gather some decorum.

He grabs as many of the beer bottles he can manage, and looks at your empty hands in question.

You tell him to head back without you, that you just need to go to the toilet.

Parting ways, you find the both the downstairs and upstairs bathrooms occupied.

Sigh in frustration, only to remember your parents en suite.

It’s empty, because of course it is. No one would feel comfortable enough invading the privacy of your parents' bedroom.

You do your business, wash your hands, fix yourself in the mirror.

Decide your lipstick needs a little touch-up, your clothes need straightening out.

And, when you’re done and ready to head back down to the poker table, you hear a thud.

Pull open the bathroom door, expect to find your father struggling to put a tipsy, giggly, clumsy version of your mother into bed.

Instead, there is only a brooding look and disapproving grunt.

A firm grip, on your arm, dragging you right back into the bathroom.

The door slams shut, a little harsher than you’d like, the sound of it surely reaching the ears of those regrouping for the next dealing of the cards.

He doesn’t pounce, like he so usually does when he’s wearing that look of frustration.

He’s simmering in it, teetering on the edge of boiling anger as he smooths a hand over his chin, visibly clenching his jaw, swallowing back whatever it is he wants to say to you.

He takes one step forward, and you go one back.

Then two steps, which you also match.

Your hip smacks into the sink’s counter on your fifth step backwards and it’s enough to finally put his hands on you.

He tugs you right into his chest, one hand soothing over where you’d banged your hip.

It’s alarmingly gentle for his stoic features.

When he speaks, you nearly melt into a puddle, the heat of him invading your space, face inching close to your own, enough to have you questioning the sanctity of your parents en suite.

“What’s going on with you, huh?”

“Could ask you the same thing, officer,” you make the fatal mistake of giggling, but you’ll blame it on the fruity cider you’d helped yourself to.

He clearly finds no humour, not even as you fiddle with the top button of his shirt and shoot him your best look of innocence.

“Think you’re real fucking funny, don’t you?” His hand, warm and imposing, grips a hold of your face.

It’s almost painful, but you like it, squirming a little at the blunt stab of his nails and the way he smooshes your cheeks, forcing a pout onto your lips.

You try shake your head, his grip won’t let you.

“Sitting in a room full of men, making yourself the centre of attention,” he huffs a breath out of his nose, and you can’t help but compare him to an angry dragon.

He’s worked up, frustrated, angry.

And it’s hot. A turn-on.

“What’s the matter, Javi? Jealous you’re not the centre of all those men’s attention?” You’re poking the dragon, teasing him, and it’s an act that may leave you burned and scarred.

Or, as you’re hoping, it’ll win you the ride of a lifetime.

He doesn’t even grace you with a verbal response.

No, he scoffs, as though he’s in physical disbelief at the words you’re saying.

Spins you around, pins you to the sink’s counter, tugs your hair till you’re forced to stare at your reflection.

He’s right behind you, seething in anger, fire in his eyes.

His head dips between you neck and shoulder, brushing his lips against your pulse point.

“Not all of us are attention whores like you,” it’s fleeting, and he’ll deny it if you dare mention it, but he smiles.

Just a second, but you feel it, see it even though he tries so hard to turn his face into your neck.

It’s what lets you know he’s playing, teasing, egging you on to push him over the edge.

“I’ve been with real whores, corazón,” he confesses a sin you already know, eaves-dropping one too many times on your dad fishing stories of Colombia out of him. “Fucked them so often they started doing their nails in colours they knew I wanted to see wrapped around my cock.”

Involuntarily, your back arches, brushing your ass against him and providing him the perfect access to wind his hand up between your heaving breasts, all the way up till his fingers curl round the base of your throat.

In the mirror, the image is one of ownership, of Javi seizing your bodily autonomy. A whore and her gentleman caller.

It’s arousing to think about, Javi and his whores.

You wonder what positions he put them in.

How many rounds he lasted with them.

How often he made them cum.

“And not one of them took half the money you’ve taken from me tonight.”

Oh.

So that’s what this is, his pretty ego, bruised at the hands of you?

Poor Mr. Javier Peña, humiliated in front of all his peers round after round, hundred bill after hundred bill.

You almost taunt him for giving into the temptations of the fragile male ego, but you’re stopped in your tracks.

By him, hands squeezing at you a little tighter as he grinds the unmistakable outline of his hardened cock against you.

That single action changes the game, entirely.

Because this isn’t about you stealing his money and his ego.

No, this is something far filthier, that has your panties growing wetter beneath the skirt of your dress.

“I’m worth every dime though, aren’t I, officer?.”

The grip tightens.

He shoves you harder into the counter, so hard a tub of your mother’s moisturiser topples off.

The hard outline of him is still there, ever-present.

“‘S that what you like, huh, taking my money? Wanna be Javi’s personal little whore?”

Every ounce of feminism evaporates within you.

Who could deny such a tentative offer?

Certainly not you, reflection mimicking the way you eagerly nod, teeth biting down on your bottom lip in a failed attempt to hold back a grin.

Javi notices- of course he notices- and takes his victory, hips rocking even deeper into you.

There’s too many layers between you, a feat on which you both agree, yet neither of you do anything about.

You just savour the friction, instead, pushing and pulling one another to the axis of pleasure.

Your panties, soaked.

His jeans, tight.

“What’s it gonna cost me to get you bent over and stuffed full of my cum, corazón?” One hand leaves your body. The mirror snitches on him, exposing how he’s reaching into his back pocket. “This?”

He smacks something down, into the bowl of the sink.

It’s his wallet, and you watch the worn leather of it shine with the residue of water on the linoleum.

The hand at your throat pulses a squeeze, his knee nudges you from behind.

“C’mon, don’t be shy.”

His mouth, right by your ear, lips tickling you with the subtlest of brushes against it.

His hand guides your own, down into the sink, flipping the wallet open and putting it’s belongings on display.

Bills, some placed neatly, others stuffed in forcefully, edges spilling out the pockets. There’s less in there than when he arrived, courtesy of you.

There’s a few miscellaneous cards. A library card, an ID slip you’re sure he uses for something in the sheriff's station, a loyalty card to some record store.

The picture of his mother sits centre stage, radiant smile and loving eyes grabbing the attention of any who dare open it.

He has his mother’s eyes, you notice.

And then you notice something else, peeking out from behind his mother’s picture.

You dive into temptation, dart your nosy fingers over to tug at the object, till you realise it’s another picture.

A picture of Javi, and you.

Taken on a polaroid you found under a box of his belongings, you remember the day clear as ever.

The two of you had messed around, captured your sins on film with the promise of destroying it after. It would be too risky a thing, to allow image evidence of the intimate ways in which you knew each other’s bodies.

Javi’s fingers on your skin, your nipple in his mouth, his cock’s outline bulging within your lower abdomen.

There was no point risking your father ever finding it.

But this picture, this one you do not remember.

Fully dressed, eyes fixed on his television, your head lays in his laps while his fingers card through your hair.

It’s captured from above, as if Javi’s own eyes had made a permanent record of his view.

The sweetness of this living on, of Javi taking something sacred for himself to keep hidden in his wallet distracts you for a moment.

He does good to bring you back into the room.

“Take how much you think you’re worth, corazón,” whispered into your ear, as he rips a few of the notes out his wallet.

They sit in the sink, growing wet.

And you are too, frozen on the spot.

You glance down, count over the different bills.

Five dollars.

Twenty dollars.

Hundred dollars.

With each bill you count, your internal price shooting up within your head, you try picture his reaction.

In the mirror, he’s watching.

Not the sink bowl, no.

You, your face, looking at your expressions in a way that reminds you it’s his job to read people.

You decide to be bold, dig into his wallet and, even though your insides twist in anxious turmoil, hold up your hand to present him with your answer.

Resting neatly, between your fore and middle finger, a shiny credit card.

The gleam in Javi’s eyes just about match it, blackened and blown out with lust.

The card is plucked out your hand.

The hand on your neck leaves, in search of your waist.

The fabric of your dress bunches, wrinkling and creasing as his fabric-straining grip inches it’s hem higher and higher.

You feel sexy like this, face heated and breathing heavy.

It’s an effect he has on you, has had on you, forcing you to look at yourself in new lights, in new angles, admiring every out-of-line trace of you for what you are.

Desirable.

And attractive.

And pretty.

And smart.

And every other word under the sun that Javi whispers into your skin with innocence as his body commits sins within you.

At the bottom of the mirror, you watch as the white cotton of your panties comes into view.

Wet, as you both expected, the thin fabric now turned almost sheer, exposing the delectable view of your cunt hugged cutely by the cotton’s tight seams.

Javi hisses, muttering something to himself.

There’s a strain to his voice, one that would have you worried he’s in pain if it weren’t for the way you’re watching as his face contorts with lust.

His eyes are dark and you study them like he studies his card, contemplating something.

A few seconds pass. 

Tension is puffed out his chest with one exhale, through the nose.

You feel the air tickle your skin.

He nods curtly, to himself, and flickers his gaze back to meet your own in the mirror.

It’s unwavering, even as he brings the black plastic down and smacks it against your mound.

You squeal, he hushes, and you both know he doesn’t mean it at all.

He likes when you gift him noise, a private aria only he has tickets to.

Just as easily as the first time, he snaps the card against you again, a jolt of pleasure shooting straight through your clit.

Just as loudly as the first time, you squeal, a jolt back into his warm, steady, hard embrace.

“What’re you running from, hmm?” His face turns, burrowing itself in the tresses of your hair.

A shallow sniff, and you wonder if he notices the smell of his shampoo on you.

There’s a pressing of lips, against your scalp, and it’s far too gentle of a juxtapose to the imagery of his fingers pulling your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the bathroom’s cold air and the two pairs of hungry eyes in the mirror.

“You say that this is what you’re worth, and then you don’t want to take it?”

The third spank of the card against your bundle of nerves is harder, louder, echos in the confined space. A moan, minuscule and muffled, slips past tightly shut lips, a look of fear flashing through wide eyes.

Javi’s quick with his reassurance, gentle with his comfort, a hand stroking over your collarbone.

“Don’t worry, no one’s gonna hear you. You just be as loud as you need, hermosa, they’re too busy encouraging that boy-cop to ask you to dinner.”

There’s a tint of jealousy to the way he says boy, and you’re reminded of the image of him in the kitchen doorway.

Smack!

The card strikes down, once more, this time eliciting an open-mouthed gasp. 

He doesn’t let up, repeating the action twice more.

It hurts, in a way that makes your core throb and your toes curl, squirming aimlessly in a grasp he knows you don’t truly want to escape.

But he mocks you, with a hushing noise in your ear and gentle it’s okay, corazón, Javi’s got yous against your neck. His thumb swipes through your folds, coating it in your wetness and dragging itself up to your clit, soaking it in soothing rubs.

His gentle nature lasts mere seconds, his wrist flicking back only to smack the credit card down again. This time, it’s a pattern of three, repeatedly crashing down on your sensitive nerves one after the other.

In the mirror, you watch him observe as he twiddles the card between deft fingers, contemplation on his mind.

The room’s quiet, apart from your shortened breaths and his deep inhales.

You hear a cheer.

From the basement.

It must have been a loud cheer, for you to hear them all the way up here.

And, suddenly, the stakes feel higher than when you were sat at the poker table, counting Javi’s coins with every passing round.

If you can hear them, they could hear you.

This doesn’t seem to cross Javier’s mind, who merely twists your head away from the bathroom door and back to the mirror, to where his hungry eyes await.

All contemplation is gone, he’s decided in what he’s going to do, and so you watch as he takes the card and swipes it through your cunt.

It’s not a pleasurable act, in itself.

In fact, it’s rather uncomfortable, the solid plastic hard on your delicate skin.

It’s the arousal of him doing it that gets you weak in the knees, to have him perform such a mundane act- the swiping of his credit card- in such a crass, dirty, wrong way.

Like he’s paying for you, committing a physical transaction in exchange for your body.

It doesn’t matter that he could have you for free, has had you for free.

He wants to pay, wants to reward you in a way that aligns with the capitalistic world.

“Javi…” You whimper, softly, head lulling back against his shoulder as he swipes the card again.

Your eyes, slowly slipping shut, shoot right back open as you feel the rounded corner of the card prod at your opening, as if trying to notch itself within you.

“Think she could take it, corazón?” Javi bites at your ear, teeth clamping down and pulling at it’s lobe. The card sinks in, not even an inch. You nudge back into, your cry circling the room around you both. “I know, baby, I know. It’d be a wide stretch, but ain’t that all pretty whores like you are good for, hmm?”

It’s automatic, the way you bend to his every whim, head nodding without direct orders from your brain, every part of you, conscious or not, ready and willing to prove you could fit his card inside of you.

For him, you can do it.

“Fitting big things in your little pussies?”

Surprisingly, the hand between your thighs retracts and you watch as he brings the card up to your mouth, glistening with your arousal.

“Open,” the directions are unnecessary, your mouth already dropping open for him in an act of muscle memory.

He hums approvingly, yet his eyes are still fury filled as he slots the card between your lips, lathering your tongue in your own taste. 

“You’ll take anything I give you, won’t you, corazón?”

The statement rings true, both ways: as much as you’ll take anything, he’ll give anything.

You don’t tell him that, though, finding it much easier to rest your palms on the countertop, backing your sopping core into him, enticing him with the wiggle of your hips and whines from your lips to take you already.

“Shh, shh, don’t you worry that pretty head. Javi’s gonna feed this greedy little cunt, ok?”

The unbuckling of a belt.

The unzipping of teeth.

The shucking down of-

Something smashes, in the basement, and it’s enough to have you flinching.

Javi’s touch soothes you, a hand running over the curve of your shoulder as he presses yet another kiss into your neck.

“S’okay, probably just a beer bottle.”

He doesn’t move another inch, not till he sees you nod, melting back into him.

You hear, more than you see, the way he tugs his trousers down, just enough to free his hardened cock from its jean-clad confine. The risky business of a quickie in your parents’ en suite calls for clothing moved aside, and not removed.

Much to your annoyance, his all-encompassing warmth drifts away as he moves back, hands clamping down on your hips. 

He tilts them to the angle he wants, the angle he knows gets him brushing all your sweet-spots.

He tugs the skirt of your dress up, and then readjusts your soiled underwear.

You hear him draw a deep breath and watch his eyes in the mirror, glued to that spot between your legs, entranced.

The drag of his cock over your folds is familiar, the way he smacks the head of it against your clit is welcomed.

He spears you no gentle coaxing, no stretching around his fingers first, coming undone just for him to fill you right back up, this time with his cock.

No, this is a vengeful touch, the kind that’s meant to display his irritation, his fury, for reasons you’ve yet to confirm yet you’re more than willing to accept.

A man like him, so unfairly selfless, taking something in this world for himself, how he wants to and how he likes to.

You’ll be his vice, so long as he grants you his virtues.

Javi fills you with a single thrust, grunting low into your ear as you feel the way the air is physically knocked out both for your lungs.

He’s still, head buried in the crook of your neck as he works on steadying his breathing, giving you time to adjust to the delicious stretch.

You whine out some version of his name, feel yourself pulse around him.

A hand, reaching up to cup your cheek.

A kiss, gentle and longing against your mouth.

He’s making you wait for it, you think, torturing you with an impending paradise.

He’s savouring the feel of you, he thinks, taking advantage of the few moments alone he wins with you.

"Javi,” he barely lets you part from him to speak, chasing a trail of kisses down your jaw. “This isn’t the time to develop patience.”

The snide remark earns you a bite, his teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin of your earlobe. You squeal, try remind yourself to be quiet, only to squeal louder when his hands tickle at your waist.

“I’m a very patient man, corazón.”

You scoff.

“Just not when it comes to you.”

His hips roll back, slowly, but it’s better than nothing, better than when he wasn’t moving at all.

Still, he makes you squirm a little longer, moan his name a little louder.

Only then does his fake resolve snap and he’s fucking into you at a brain melting pace in the blink of an eye.

Javier does his best to keep quiet, at first, biting down on his lip and your neck just to contain all those melodies he usually makes.

You can’t say the same for yourself as, despite your efforts, broken moan after broken moan tumbles out your mouth and into the sink, filling and filling and filling it in sync with how Javi your cunt.

You wonder how long till it all spills over the edge.

“Joder (Fuck),” he groans as you unconsciously squeeze him tighter, pulling him deeper into your walls. serves him right, for the teasing and the torturing. “Tienes el coño más lindo en todo el mundo. (You have the prettiest cunt in the whole world.)”

You feel lightheaded.

Warm, sweaty, covered in the fingerprints of a lover you shouldn’t be with.

The bathroom fills with an array of sounds. The slapping of skin against skin, the broken cries of an agent’s name, the mindless rambling of a man drunk on pleasure.

“So good to me, baby. Always so fucking good to me.”

“Gonna stay here forever, fuck. That sound good to you, corazón, hmm? Full of my cock always?”

“Look at yourself… Pura belleza (Pure beauty).”

He consumes you, mind, body and soul.

There’s no worrying about the happenings around the poker table, no listening out for your father’s car pulling in the driveway, no worrying about your tousled hair or sweating skin.

There’s just Javi.

Beautiful, gorgeous, deserving Javi.

“Please, please, Javi-“ The words all melt together, pleads becoming his name, his name becoming pleads.

You’re not sure what you’re begging for.

It’s okay though, Javi always knows what you need.

“I know, amor (love), I know,” he murmurs into your skin, butterfly kisses so gentle you wonder how they come from the same man that’s pistoning his hips into you like it’s the last chance he’ll ever get. “Let go, c’mon. Show me how much you love this cock, how much you love-”

He’s cut off by his own groan, you cunt fluttering around him as you inch closer and closer to the edge of euphoria.

Hands hurry off your waist, slipping between your thighs. 

It brings a welcomed cushioning, shielding you from repeatedly bumping against the marble of the countertop.

Your legs part further, eagerly, an easy pathway for his yearning fingers to seek out the wonders of the female body as they brush over your clit.

The gentle tactile that he strokes over your bundle of nerves, partnered with the repeated brushing of his cock against that spot that makes you weak in the knees, drool out your mouth, it’s becoming too much.

Eyes glancing in the mirror, you wonder if yours is the same image of the whores who’d warmed his Colombian nights: sweat soaked skin, hooded eyes, messed up hair, wrinkled clothing.

He tilts your hips, a deeper angle to fuck into you that has you perching up onto the tips of your toes, fighting with the chance of losing balance.

He’d catch you, if you fell.

Wrap you up in an embrace that’s more familiar than your own.

“I’m gonna- Fuck! Corazón, need you to cum. Now, please. Please. Need to feel you-”

He’s babbling, losing composure and revealing the side of him you pray he never showed those other women: the side that needs, the side that longs, the side that begs to see you cum before he allows himself to, before he’s able to.

“Javi,” it’s a struggle to speak, but you endure, fighting off your orgasm and holding back tears. There’s something you need from him too. “Cum with me. Wanna be full of you, all of you-”

“¿Sí? (Yeah?)” He pleads back, thrusts already getting a little sloppier, hands a little shakier in the way they touch you. Much like his poker face, you know how to read the face he wears moments before he falls apart. “¿Eso es lo que quiere mi corazón? (Is that what my sweetheart wants?) Want me to cum in you, hm?”

“Yes, oh god yes! So bad, Javi, I want it so bad!”

“Ay, bebesita, no llores. (Aw, baby girl, don't cry.)” He coos, a condescending lilt to his words that has you falling into a bigger mess. “Shh, don’t worry, baby. Gonna fill you right up, so my cum’s dripping down your thighs when that poor kid asks you for your number. Thinks he’s got a shot with you cause he made you laugh, poor boy wouldn’t know how to deal with all the noises I get out of you.”

Javi divulges into a spine-tingling rant of burning hot jealousy, the kind that leaves your cheeks burning and your heart scorching, lit under a flame of your desire for more of him. To have him, equal parts physical and emotional.

You try warn him of the bubble that’s about to burst, the feeling in your loins building and building till it’s seconds way from toppling over. 

“That’s it, baby, squeeze my cock. Lemme feel it,” He urges, heart pounding out his chest against your back, hands tightening their grip on your hips. “Need to feel you cum, ‘s all I want.”

You both crash and burn, together.

You fall first, a chaos of unfinished words, crying out for Javi.

He follows close behind, body pressed against your own like he’s willing you to fuse together, to become to entangled in one another that all possibilities of separation become void.

“Take it, cora-” He’s in your ears, in your head, in your heart. Inside of you, consuming you, as eagerly as he’s willing to be consumed by you, fingerprints on hips and teeth-marks in necks. “Take it, take it, take it.”

Arms envelop you from behind, crossing over your chest to pin you back against him.

He’s nearly stagnant, nothing but the twitch of his cock and the shallow thrusts he fucks you deeper with, filling you with another, another, another pump of his cum.

“So good,” Javi’s voice persists, teeth gritting as he bites back the need to be loud, to be heard, to lay a claim on you so blatant no one could deny hearing it. Your relationship with your father is the only thing that holds him back. “Good to me, baby. Always… Good… Díos. (God.)”

Craning your neck to the side, you manage to pull him in for a kiss.

It’s something he accepts easily, lips parting and melting into a dance against your own.

One of his hands falls over your jaw, twisting your face even closer to him.

The kiss dies slowly, with each of you refusing to truly part, pecks being splattered messily against the other’s mouth.

“Was I,” Javi interrupts you with another kiss, his free hand smoothing up and down your side, his hips still slowly rocking into yours, a delicious sting of overstimulation biting at your core. “Am I worth it?”

He pulls back, tired gaze warm as it takes in your messed features.

With the smile that stretches over his lips, however, one would think you were the prettiest creature in all the world.

He calls your name, calmly, slowly, like he’s trying to memorise the shape of it on his tongue. “You’re worth everything I could give, and more.”

There’s something behind the ways he says it that makes you believe him.

With little will to do so, you peel apart from each other, his hands moving quick to adjust your underwear as his cum starts to leak out onto your folds.

He exits the bathroom first, a final kiss placed on your cheek before your left alone, forced to confront the wrecked version of you that will never see your parent’s en suite in the same light.

Your dad arrives back just in time to see you slipping back down to sit at the poker table, no seat left for him to take but the one between his sweet daughter and his loyal best friend.

If only he knew he was placing you both where you most wanted to be when he suggested Javi give you a ride home, waving you both off through the car window with no idea Javi's cum sat dripping out your cunt, staining the car seat.

Your phone buzzes to life in your hand, slipping you out of your memories.

Your father’s contact name reads clearly on the screen.

Hitting decline one more time, you roll over and try ignore the gathering slick between your thighs.

Damn Javi and all the memories he haunts you with.

Mr, I don’t want a label You made me a little miss unstable (And it)

Days grow colder.

Nights grow longer.

You change your bedsheets, stuff a comforter back inside.

Pick out a tree, synthetic, and lump the box up the countless stairs to your apartment.

Try not to think of how he would’ve insisted on helping, refused to let you carry it.

Even if it culminated in him doubled over in pain, clutching his lower back.

Lights, baubles, action.

The tree’s smaller than you expect, barely reaching your hip, but it’s green, tree-shaped and festive. It’s enough.

Your decorations are minimal, a few inconsequential things you picked out your parents’ stash. There’s a Santa hat, frayed with time. A few cracked baubles, with string so thin you suspect they’ll snap off. A gingerbread man ornament, a glass snow-flake. A crooked star, missing one of its points, tops the tree.

A homemade snowman, one you’d gifted your parents after a busy day in nursery. Neither of them had the heart to tell you you’d made its nose a rather phallic shape.

And then there's the red phone-box, nestled somewhere in the middle, an etching of LONDON brandishing it as a reminder of your trip.

You’d picked it up in a tiny bookstore, right next door to The Distillery Club.

The winter season has never felt so lonesome, tucked away in your grown-up apartment. 

There’s no fireplace to warm your hands, no hot cocoa boiling on the stove. No cheesy hallmark movies to laugh at with your mother, no racing past your father to grab the last slice of dessert.

It’s just you, alone, with only your wandering mind as company.

Sometimes, more often than not, it wanders to him. To if he’s alone.

To if he’s filling his heart as easily as he fills his bed.

To if he’s finally bought a second seat for his dingy balcony.

“Is this some tactic of yours?”

He hums, brows furrowing, lips pouting, smoke dragging into his lungs.

The cigarette sits perched between two fingers of the hand resting on your knee, his other curled around your waist.

“Some what?”

“Tactic,” you repeat. Watch him blow a puff a smoke, taste his ash at the back of your throat. “Only having one chair, so pretty girls have no choice but to sit in your lap.”

He lets his gaze wander away from the streets below and up to you, sitting pretty in his lap. Like a cat, draped over his thighs.

Nothing but his own rumpled, inside-out shirt to cover your skin.

Bare legs, messed hair, smudged lipstick.

Fingerprint bruises littering your hips, bitemarks etched into your collarbone.

“I gave you a choice,” he speaks with a reservation he didn’t have before, when he’d offered you a ride home from the bar. There’s an etching of something that’s diluting his expressions, sinking him deeper and deeper into his own pensive mind. “You were the one who insisted on sitting on me.”

“You weren’t complaining earlier.”

Nails pinch at your thigh, causing a squeal out of you.

A few birds fly off a nearby wire, a head or two turn in the street below.

They don’t see you, or Javi, or the lack of clothing that sits between you.

“Neither were you. In fact, you were a little busy fucking my fac-”

“Stop!” Your sudden modesty feels unearned, yet that does nothing to stop you from placing your hand over his mouth.

He licks at it, you grimace, he licks again.

Then takes another breath of nicotine, as you wipe the remnants of his spit onto his naked thigh.

When he offers the cigarette your way, you hesitate.

Picture your father, disappointed to see you smoke.

The whiff of Javi’s post-sex smell- muted cologne, matted sweat, burnt ash- steals your senses, reminds you you’ve already done enough to disappoint your father, a cigarette can’t do much damage.

So you let him hold it up to your mouth and inhale it’s poison.

You and Javi were never meant to happen.

Sure, the line had already been crossed weeks ago.

But that was supposed to stay in Vermont, tucked between snowy slopes and wooden cabins. Existing in a timeline separate from your reality, where you are your father’s precious daughter and Javi is his trustworthy colleague and friend, that is where it should have stayed.

And it had, for two weeks. Sixteen days, specifically. 

You’d returned to classes, to sharing lunch breaks with your father in his office, to slowly moving more of your things out the family home and into your new apartment.

And Javi, from what you heard, had returned to keeping civilians safe, to sharing a drink or two with your father at the end of the work week, to flirting with every secretary within a mile radius.

Neither of your crossed paths and, when you nearly did, the other made the effort to turn a corner, shut a door, hide behind a wall.

Until tonight.

Until you ditched your mediocre date, some lame excuse of having a last-minute paper due.

Until you’d gone to console yourself over your failing love life, unknowingly sliding into a bar stool right next to the most desired cop in town.

Until he’d turned to you, tilted his head, and asked “d’you wanna get out of here?”

He’d offered to take you home.

The drive was quiet, tense, until his hand drifted over the gearstick and you dragged it down onto your thigh.

He squeezed.

You inched it further up, till the tips of his fingers brushed at the edge of your dress.

He took the invitation, took a turning towards his own place.

Brought you into his apartment, drowned you in his fountain of kisses, begged you to sit upon his face. He’d made you see stars beneath a roofed sky, eyes rolling so far back they threatened to get stuck there.

With barely a moments recovery from a third blinding orgasm, he dragged you down the expanse of his body, sat you down on his cock and refused to help your overstimulated, puddle-brained self ride him, grinning cunningly with his back pressed against the mattress as you struggled through shaky legs.

Eventually, he tired and launched himself, arms tangling behind your back, feet planted flat behind you, hips fucking up into your battered cunt until you both came to a haltering crescendo.

He’d layed you down to rest, cleaned you of any mess, and then wandered out to his balcony, inviting you to join him when the feeling returned to your legs.

Which brings you here, fifteen minutes later.

“...wouldn’t have to be serious,” he’s speaking, finishing off a sentence you don’t quite catch the start of.

“Huh?”

“This. Us. It could be casual, y’know?” Another puff of smoke slips right through his lips. “If that’s what you’re worrying about… your dad, and all that other stuff. I don’t need a label, not if it means I get to have… We could keep it casual, if that’s what you want.”

It takes a few moments for you to fully register his words, and then a few more to formulate a response.

“Is that what you want?”

He shrugs.

Pulls in another breath of his cigarette.

Stubs it out on the arm of the chair.

And says nothing.

You assume it’s a yes.

Because what else could Javier Peña, notorious womaniser, want with you if not a casual, no-strings-attached permit to sleep with you, as many times as he sees fit, without the risk of losing his job or, worse, his best friend?

Silence falls upon you both.

You twist in his lap.

He tightens his hold.

Within a half’s hour, he’s got your hands white knuckling as they grip the metal bannister of his balcony, his own hands busy pulling your hips back to meet each of his desperate thrusts, not even the cool air of the night enough to soothe the flaming desire that burns between you.

Your stomach twists, your mouth dries, your eyes water at the thought of him out on that balcony now.

Somebody else, some new body sat in your spot, upon his lap as they exchange smoke rings and warm mouths.

Broke me big time It’s funny and I’m laughing baby You think i’m alright

The Laredo sheriff’s department is known best for three things: its lack of parking, its swoon-worthy ex-DEA agent, and its office holiday parties.

Each year, it’s the same.

The station, decked out in decorations.

A Christmas wreath, mistletoe hanging from every doorway, egg-nog and mulled wine.

It’s not just Christmas.

It’s menorahs, and ficus trees, and a statues of different gods.

Each piece of culture, tradition, holiday that makes up the people that inhabit the station, day in and day out, behind desks and in cop cars, filing paperwork and fetching coffees, represented in some way, celebrated.

Each member of staff is encouraged to bring their friends, their family.

Their spouse, their mothers.

Anyone, and everyone, is welcome.

Then there’s the gift exchange, a Secret Santa system, optional for each member of staff.

It’s the part you look forward to most.

Crowding your dad the minute he gets home on the first of December, poking and prodding till he lets it spill who he’s got.

Fishing out a pen, some paper.

Drawing up a list, made of details and anecdotes your father remembers of his target.

Dragging your shop-avoidant father down to the mall, for a day of gift hunting and sweet-tooth indulging.

Getting to watch your father’s coworker open their gift, eyes lighting up as you once again knock the ball out the park and gift them something perfectly tailored to them, winning your dad the spot of top gift-giver year after year.

This year, there was none of that.

No list of pros and cons for each gift option.

No trying to crack just what exactly your dad should gift his person.

No waiting with baited breath to watch them open it, heart racing with that little fear of them not liking it, of you failing.

No, the moment that name fell from your father’s mouth, you knew what he needed to get.

Hinted at it, slightly.

Claimed you’d smelt it on a friend, thought it would be a good idea.

Sipping on some wine and picking at the buffet, you watch him pick up his gift.

Hold it up to his ear, shake it.

Look down at the box, confused, then tear into the wrapping paper.

The whole room stops.

Not really, but it feels like it does, as somewhere across the room Javier Peña holds up a bottle of that damn cologne.

And, when his eyes instinctively find yours, it feels like everything else fades away.

Fades to grey.

It’s just him, and you. The only two within the room, holding a secret too heavy on the tongue to ever speak it aloud.

He knows.

Of course he knows.

Knows you’d watched him spray it on his skin, day in, and day out.

Knows you’d worn it on your own, sunk it deep into your pores after intertwining your souls upon wrinkled sheets.

Knows you’d watch its contents decrease over time, time you’d spent with him.

That bottle of cologne reminiscent of a timer on you both, that morning before the hospital trip becoming the last few sprays he got out of it.

Colour returns to the world that surrounds you as your dad steps into view.

He’s hugging Javi, pathetically tipsy and ignorant to the lipstick stain on his cheek, no doubt ingrained to his skin with how hell-bent he is on having your mother kiss him beneath each mistletoe.

They’re exchanging words you don’t hear, slapping one another on the back.

You turn on your heel, insides twisting as nausea overcomes you at the scene.

The next time you see Javi is hours later.

You’re trying to leave, tempted to take the good old Irish exit and just slip out a back door.

But your parents- ne, your father- are so busy show-ponying you around the room, that you fail to take a single step that goes unnoticed.

“There she is!” Your father calls out, somewhere behind you, as you slip your hand into the arm of your coat. This act sparks outrage, a frown birthing onto his face. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving too.”

You say you’re tired.

He boos, loudly, like he’s not the chief of police and a whole grown adult.

Grabs at you, lovingly, trying to pry the coat out of your hands.

The effort is minimum, and you know he’s only messing around.

You can leave, if you want to, even if he’d rather you stay.

“It’s not even midnight and you two buzzkills are leaving!” He wails, all the while he’s reaching around and helping you slip your other arm into the coat.

That’s when Javi’s face comes into view, over the arch of your dad’s shoulder, sporting a smile and a pair of keys dangling off one finger.

You try your best to counter his smile with your own, though your throat feels dry and your cheeks feel tight.

“I can’t believe I’m being betrayed like this by two of my favourite people!” The smile slips before you can catch it, eyes widening at your father’s words.

Words you’d spent months agonising over the thought of hearing. Picturing the circumstances in which he’d find out. Imagining the horrendous fallout, a red slash over Javier’s reputation. Swearing you’d quit it, quit him, and then winding up tangled in his sheets again, head pressed to his chest, eyes closed in the soundest of sleeps.

Javi plays it cool.

Nudges your dad’s shoulder, shakes his head and tells him to “quit the dramatics, viejo (old man).”

“I gotta head out to my pop’s first thing in the morning, he’s wanting me to help him rewire some of the fences.” Comes out as his excuse, one your dad can’t really argue against.

He knows better than anyone that Javi drops everything for his dad.

Well, better than anyone but you.

Your excuse, however, falls a little short, a consequence of the last minute conjuring of the lie.

“I’ve, uh, got an early class. Don’t wanna flunk out in my last year, right?”

Your dad stares at you.

Your mum stares at you.

Javi stares at you.

And that’s how you know you’re screwed.

“Class? I thought you were on winter break.”

Javi takes the momentary distraction to shrug his coat on, over those broad shoulders.

Shoulders that twist with the rest of him, as he makes space for you in the doorway, nodding you over. Here, he’s saying without really speaking, escape with me.

So you do, tiptoeing past your parents as though, the slower and quieter you move, the less they’ll notice your approach to the exit.

“Oh! Yeah, I- Sorry, I meant that I-”

“The library, it’s still open for the graduate students,” Javi swoops in effortlessly, dragging the spotlight off you.

He takes hold of your jacket, too, slipping the zip into place and dragging it up the length of your torso, over your chest, till it rests snuggly at your sternum.

A little too snug, making each new inhale deeper, harder, practically heaving the air into your lungs.

At least that’s the reason you give yourself.

You don’t get to dwell on it too long, fortunately, for your mother lets out a gasp.

She points, eyes a little widened by excitement, at the both of you and nudges at your father.

“Look!” She tells him, and you watch in confusion as he displays her same reaction, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Then comes the laughter, straight out the depths of your dad’s belly and right to your weak heart, a melody that reminds you so much of easy Sundays and curling up next to him on the sofa, watching kids’ shows that seemed to entertain him more than you.

“Oh that’s just,” he takes a laugh break, doubling over slightly, his own finger joined in pointing at you two, beneath the doorway. “Too perfect!”

Before you can inquire on either of your parents bizarre reactions, Javi’s eyes are staring into your own and pointing upwards.

Wrapped with a red bow and barely hanging onto the door frame with a single strip of tape, a mistletoe stares down at you, two white berries like mini eyes.

When you glance at the agent once more, it’s hard to read what he’s thinking.

His shoulders are tense, his lips are pursed, his brows are furrowed. But, his eyes.

His eyes burn you with an unspoken intensity, a look he should never possess in front of your parents.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You mom, camera in hand, urges you both, a wide grin cast upon her face.

You dad is in no better state, rushing forward to squeeze you both closer, one hand clasped over the back of Javi’s head.

When the once-agent exhales a nerve-striken breath, the warmth of it, of him, hits your neck.

“Dad, c’mon, stop-” you’ve never imagined yourself stuck like this, your mother and father both urging you to kiss a man you spent months tossing and turning in bedsheets with behind their back.

The creatively deviant part of your brain tells you this is how it could be, maybe, in some other life.

Some other life, where Javi’s not a cop, you’re new in town, and you both bump into each other at the grocery store.

Both of you reaching out for the same apple, or box of cereal, or bottle of milk.

Your hands, brushing.

Your eyes, meeting.

He’d charm you, easily as he always has.

Get your number and then, the next day, a date.

One date leading to two, three, four, more dates.

Till you bring him home to meet your parents at last, squeezing his hand tighter when he tries to pry it away as the door opens to your father’s stern face.

It would take a while, you reckon, for your dad to see past the difference in years.

Your mother wouldn’t care, wouldn’t spare a second thought to it, not when she notices how much he makes you laugh and how he can’t keep his eyes off of you in any room you occupy.

This could be your first Christmas together, your parents begging for one sweet photo of you under the mistletoe, before you both head off to spend the rest of the holiday season with Javi’s father.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“C’mon, it’s bad luck not to!” Back in the present, in reality, your dad’s found his way over to your mother’s side. “Peña, just kiss the girl on the cheek for Christ sake, I ain’t gonna bite your head off for it this one time!”

His lips brush your cheek like an autumn breeze.

Gentle, a hint of warmth, a tickle from the wisps of his well-groomed moustache.

“Get a bit closer, you’re not fully in frame!”

The flash goes off on your mother’s camera, and the two give a little cheer, and Javi wraps an arm around your back, squeezing you a little closer.

When all is said and done, your mother’s forcing you both to stare at the camera screen, a perfect picture of the most doomed couple to ever grace this Earth.

Such dramatics in your thoughts reminds you of the copious glasses of prosecco you’d downed throughout the night, and of your intentions to get yourself home before you done something stupid.

Like stand under the mistletoe with your former casual lover, the very same man your father calls for golf matches and March Madness debriefs.

Javi offers you a ride home, an idea your father approves of.

“I’m heading that way anyway, gotta pick up a few things before I drive out to the ranch.”

A part of you thinks he’s lying, wanting any excuse for a moment alone with you, but then that’s the kind of delusions you shouldn’t be feeding into.

You and Javi don’t spend time alone anymore.

You and Javi do not exist together anymore.

Maybe you never did.

“It’s okay, I already called a cab.”

You part ways at the door, your father watching you from inside.

Javi calls your name, before you can take more than a few steps.

For a second, he just looks at you.

Then his arms are pulling you in, and he’s got you right against his steady chest, and he’s resting his head atop your own, arms squeezing tightly at your sides.

“Get home safe.”

He walks away before you can tell him to do the same, the door slamming to his car the last thing you hear as you pull out your phone and call a cab.

It takes twenty minutes for it to appear, in which the rain starts and your clothes get soaked, but all that and the fifteen dollar fare are a cheaper price to pay than the torture of letting Javier Peña drive you home.

Crawl up the stairs, unlock the apartment door, drop your clothes onto the floor.

You find sanctuary under the shower, soap suds and boiling water, a dynamic duo that scrub off any remnants of his skin against yours.

Even as you step out, fully cleaned and towel wrapped around yourself, you catch a hint of his cologne, the very same one you’d made sure your dad picked out for him.

And as you pick your coat off the ground, a distant voice that sounds much like your mother scolding you for leaving such a mess, you notice it.

First, just a little extra weight.

Then, scratchy paper as your hand dives into the left pocket.

The wrapping is haphazard, with an uneven bow tied atop it, but that’s not what matters.

You tear away at it, let the paper fall to the floor at your feet.

Then you’re met with a small box, which you tear open too. 

And find it sitting neatly among balls of yarn, the prettiest, most delicate looking glass bauble.

It’s ribbon a deep green, and it’s centre an image of mountain slopes, backed by a green forest and a valley full of wooden lodges.

It shakes in your grasp, and you spy the snowglobe-esque white foam that dances around within it.

In it’s centre, in bold, italic and green, Vermont.

One more glance in the box.

There’s a note, tucked at the bottom.

You fish it out in one breath, hold it up to read what it says.

Corazón, For your tree. I hope there’s still space.

[badgyalshii]

WANNA TRY IT WITH ME?

word count: 3.1k?

warnings! smut, maybe some typos, oral (f) and missionary, overstimulation, some dirty talk.

pairing! only fans!timothee chalamet x (f) friend!reader (ALWAYS SAFE FOR POC + PLUS SIZE)

a/n: hereee goes my long awaited apology for the finale of its never over🙄 i hope you guys enjoy! two hands on the phone please😏 the “xxx” is a divider btw i just got lazy lmao TELL ME IF IT SERVES CUNTTTT (requests are open)

have you read the series? check it out!

like shii’s writing!? check out her masterlist for her future imagines/series! (that needs to be updated, come on shii wtf r u doing😒)

It was no secret that timothee owned a onlyfans, he didnt really talk about it though. He didnt want it to be the main conversation between him and his friends, he kept the subjects separated but he was very close with his fans. You said you would always support what he does and even registered for an account to follow him, he tried to fight it and block you from his page, but you said it wasnt really that big of a deal considering you would never open the app and just to let you love him, to which he sighed and let it go, but convsersations were awkward because in the back of his mind he didnt know and was wondering you ever watched his videos. It was only a side gig, but he wanted to focus on college and small acting.

One day, you decided to initiate the conversation with timmy while you both ate chinese. ¨i just felt like if i talked to you about it then it would be hard for you to separate me from being a normal sensitive person from being ya know….that¨ he explained, you shrugged. ¨i mean, i wouldnt look at you differently- not that ive watched but i know you, and how could i judge such a sweet person like you? The only thing that i would have questions about is, like, is it awkward? On camera? Im not even comfortable with myself so put myself on camera and do that-¨ ¨if you dont like yourself, trust their is someone to appreciates you like ten times more than you do on a good day. Theres no reason for you to feel like that¨ he said looking over before eating the rice with a fork. You let out a hum and things fell silent as you both watched a movie, but it was clear you both were thinking. ¨would- would you like…¨ he looked over at you, your eyebrows lifted as you looked at him, he seemed nervous as his cheeks were slowly turning rosy, he cleared his throat before finishing his question. ¨like try it?¨ he asked, ¨erm¨ you said before thinking to yourself, ¨maybe with someone i trust, could be fun¨ you smiled before asking for the rice, taking a forkfull bite off of the same utensil that timmy used. He shrugged, becoming more comfortable, seeing as you were rather chill about the situation, it was a joke to him, what he was about to say, but the tone that came out otherwise said different.

¨wanna try it with me?¨ your eyes widened in surprise, to which he laughed, ¨joking, im joking¨ he let out with a nervous chuckle leaving his lips, his face was visibly warm now, a big grin on his face trying to fight off the fact that he said that. You chewed and swallowed your rice carefully, not saying a word and looking at him while he looked at you, itching and waiting for your response. You shrugged, ¨fuck it¨ your stomach was doing flips, what were you saying? Are you fucking serious? You thought after you said that, your eyebrows high and a side smile on your lips. His mouth parted, ¨when-when would you wanna do it?¨ he asked, ¨its your page, shouldnt you make the rules?¨ you muttered, setting down the rice. ¨tommorow maybe?¨ he let out, watching you get up, you said yeah and said you had to use the bathroom.

When you made it to the bathroom you looked at yourself in the mirror before letting out a sigh and putting a hand on your face is disbelief, what had you singed yourself up for? Why were you just talking? Were you just talking? It was clear that you both were very attractive, so imagine what people think. Your shared friends already think you guys have something casual going on, so would they really be surprised if you both busted out with a cake saying ¨we did it! We fucked! (and recorded)¨? You bit your lip before running the water and washing your hands, before exiting out of the bathroom and sitting next to timothee again.

XXX

You both shyd away about the idea even if it was just the next day, but here we are. You sat ontop of timothees bed, fully clothed and your hair out of the way. You bit your lip, you were anxious, you didnt know how to feel about this, how would others take it? What if they didnt like you? What if you didnt like it. Timothee sat infront of you the entire time, telling you that it was okay if you didnt want to do it and reassuring you the entire time and double checking in with you. As nervous as you were, there was a small burst of excitement that jumped in your stomach.

He bit his lip, ¨you ready?¨ he asked, holding up the camera, about to record you. On the nightstand sat a white viberator, body oil, and lube just incase. He raised three fingers behind the camera, initiating a count down, he very soon pressed the record button, you saw the red small light from the camera flicker. A smile played on your lips from awkwardness but you tried your best to cover it up. ¨this is y/n. One of my closest friends who wanted to join us today¨ he chuckled, ëyes on the screen as he looked through the camera to see you. ¨but ill let her introduce herself¨ he finished, your eyes widened, you didnt know what to do. ¨im nervous¨ you let out with a pity smile and you both let out a laugh, ¨just get undressed while you introduce yourself¨ he let out a small grunt as he watched you immediately catch on and start pulling up your top.he bit his lip, he couldnt deny you looked fucking great, the way your breasts were laid pretty in that bra and how your hips sat with the hidden treasures just waiting to be touched. You watched as he slowly palmed himself and continued to record. You decided this was the right time to speak up.

¨my name is y/n, but timothee told you that¨ you laughed as you stripped your shirt off, muffled music played in the back but you both werent too focused on that, you wore a matching set for the circumstance, and when your bra was revealed he let out a muttered fuck and applied more pressure to his clothed cock. T̈his is my first time¨ you continued, looking over at the oil before reaching over, your ass in the air as you reached for it he let out a sigh, and watched as your back arched and when you came back at sat correctly, he lended his hand out, ¨i wanna do that¨ he said, and you complied, handing him the oil, he let out a small groan, he was as hard as a rock and youve barely even started, he had no shirt on but he had his grey sweatpants, he took the camera and set it up on its stand on the end of the bed.

When he looked back at you, you sat there innocently, you sat on the back of your calves, legs closed and looking up at him so lost, it turned him on that he could take control and lead you. He softly grabbed your neck and pulled you in for a slowly soft to passionate open mouth kiss, pulling your head towards himself before letting you go and moving behind you, his warm touch on your arms, following all the way up to your neck and you tilted your head back on his shoulder as he now kissed your neck and uncuffed your bra. ¨shittttt¨ he muttered, looking at your tits and taking them into his hands, to which they fit perfectly, your nipple between his first and middle finger, rolling them around as soft sighs of pleasure left your lips, he looked at you the entire time before applying a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. You closed your eyes and let him lead you, you felt like you were falling in his arms and allowed him to take you anywhere, you swore this is what you needed, you almost forgot the camera was even there. He put his hand on your waist before he reached for the oil and while he did that, you stripped yourself from your shorts, revealing your matching thong before getting back into pisition and you looked at the camera, thinking you should be more seductive, you looked at it and let out a moan as the warm oil hit your body, he rubbed it over your chest, your stomach, his touch was gentle the entire time, ¨can you bend over infront of the camera for me?¨ he asked gently, you looked at him and nodded, your ass was pointed to the camera and he moved behind you and to the side, his eyebrows raised as you arched as your already glistening cunt was soaking the thin material of the thong, he applied oil over your ass and rubbed it in before his hands crawled up to the sides of your thong, ¨is it okay if i pull this down?¨ he asked, you nodded and he looked at you before dropping your panties, he let out a sigh of satifacation and rubbed over your entrance, you let out a hum and arched your back further before he plunged a finger into your soaking wet cunt, your mouth dropped as he slowly fingered you, he watched as your walls tighten around his fingers, his mouth dropped and he couldnt wait to put his dick inside.

He lifted up your ass as he started to apply pressure and finger harder, your eyebrows furrowed as you looked back at him. ¨like that?¨ he asked as he continued to finger, you bit your lip and nodded your head, your hips moved back into his hand as a small smirk played on his face before he stripped his fingers away, you let out a whine, wanting him to keep going before he surprised you and applied his tongue to your clit, your mouth dropped, his tongue was circling and you let out a moan.

¨timmy” left your lips, fuck. Is this what you were missing out on? Your stomach has butterflies as you leaned back wanting more, he let out a chuckle against your lips in cockiness seeing as you were enjoying this. He shook his head against your pussy and you moaned his name again. ¨dont stop, make me cum timmy¨ he let out another hum against your pearl before pulling away with a pop. ¨make you cum? Want me to make you cum baby?¨ he asked, pumping his fingers.

You looked back at him and seen your juices covering his lips, you could finish just now, looking at his low eyes, looking at him made it seem like he was clouded with ecstasy. He licked his lips and you nodded, letting out a soft please. He kissed your ass before getting on his knees and pulsing into your pussy harder, your eyebrows furrow as you close your eyes, opened mouth gasps and a deep moan just rips away from your lips, fuck, you couldnt take it. And the way timothee looked at you didnt help, ¨shit¨ he muttered, taking his thumb and rubbing your pearl in complete circles. Your mouth hung low as your belly started to heat up, you could feel yourself about to explode. You let out a whine and he bit his lower lip, ¨look at me, look at me while i make you cum¨ he circled faster, you looked at him desperate, desperate to finish.

And suddenly you did, ¨timmy!¨ you let out, your eyes rolling and the way he tried to ride your high out was overstimulating for you so you jerked your body from his fingers, to which he laughed at. ¨shut up¨ you laughed, putting your heand in your hands as your stomach continued to burn from the release. ¨you okay?¨ he asked again, you nodded yes and it was okay and that you were ready for the next round, he smiled at you, and you smiled back, before something else caught your attention. He was clearly breathing heavier and as you shamelessly panned his body, and something else was clearly looking at you.

He didnt try to hide it, instead, he grabbed it while he looked at you, ¨missionary? Or?¨ he asked. You shrugged in return, you liked that he mentioned missionary first, “is that a good angle?” you asked, “any shot with you in it is a good angle, y/n” he said, stripping from his sweats and boxers before coming over to press a kiss on your lips. Once again, the kiss became heated, he leaded you to lay on your back while your lips were still together. He came down and laid firm on you, pressing up against your bare pussy. You held onto his curls as his soft lips were on yours, his tongue entered your mouth, shamelessly clashing against yours, your teeth. It was so hot, he pumped himself before pressing up against your entrance. He rubbed his dick messily against your clit, looking at you jutter under his touch, he kissed your head before he entered slowly, a soft sigh left your lips as you made eye contact with him, watching his eyebrows press together from the easy slip in, to the tight satisfying feeling of your pussy wrapped around his hard throbbing dick. He looked at you for approval, and you nodded.

“y/n, fuck you feel good” he muttered, his mouth opening as you opened your legs further, wanting more. A throaty moan left your mouth as you leaned up on your elbows to watch him fuck you, his dick hit your spot everytime and he only moved faster. “Timmy, keep going” you moaned, your head tilting back from the euphoria. He reached up and grabbed your tit, massaging it as he continued to let out moans, “fuck, like that? You like that?” he muttered, now focusing and putting his hands on both sides of your head. He rocked his hips thorough, his mouth agape and low groans ripping away as the headboard of the bed clashed against the wall time and time again.

“yes! mmph-“ you were cut off by how deep his dick was inside you and how your sensitive nipples tickled in his touch, the way he looked so focused and lost in the moment only made you more wet, you tilted your head back and let out a cry, he was hitting the same spot over again and fucking you harder, you felt your walls clench desperately and that only motivated him more. “timmy!” you whine, putting your hand on his stomach and closing your legs around him, the sound of skin on skin became more relevant as he didnt stop, “i got you” he let out in a breathy, low and seductive tone.

he slapped your hand out of the way before taking it and your other and placing them ontop of the pillow, holding your hands by the wrist as he came down and kissed your sweet spot, “oh my- mmm!” a high pitched hum broke and tried to hide your neck, this was all so overpowering and it felt so good, “where do you want me to cum, y/n” he whispered in your ear, “fuck!” he closed his eyes and his hips rutted slowly, still having powerful strokes, “inside” you let out, he looks up at you before letting out a laugh, “are you crazy? you’re gonna get pregnant- shit” the pleasure took over, canceling his sentence.

“i wont” you shook your head, fuck thats all you wanted, for him to fill you up, give himself to you fully. he looks at you and presses a kiss to your lips before letting out an okay, he takes one of his hands off of your wrists to come down and rub your clit, but it was difficult considering how wet you were. your body was overstimulated and tried to fight his hand off by moving your hips, but when you moved them it just made him go deeper, past your spot, you froze in that position, your body shocked as he hit a point you didnt know anyone could. “fuck! dont stop!” you scream in a whiney tone, keeping your hips where they were. “cum for me” he said, his jaw clenching as he looked at you with all seriousness, “take it, take it from me make me cum!” you cry, his hand moved faster against your clit and more rough groans left his lips, your mouth suddenly became agape and he looked at you, your eyes pouring into his as you came. “timmy, im, im cumming” your eyebrows furrowed, it felt like the world stopped, your body jerked and released all the knots in your stomach. he came down and you both shared and open mouthed sloppy kiss, he bit his lip and and looked down at you, fucked you harder and the bed creaking and the camera was so close to flipping over.

“mmm” his lips pursed together, fucking you faster now, “timmy!” you cried again, before his mouth dropped, a whiney moan left him lips “y/n, y/n, aw, fuckkk y/n” he said over and over again, feeling his seed shoot up in your stomach as he looked at you, both eyes were desperate for each other, so hazed in the stars. he let you go and your arms went under his, holding him as he let out “uhs” as he finished cumming inside you, and making sure you got all of it as he messily rutted his hips until failure. your back came off the matress as you accepted the cum shooting up your pussy as your chest uncontrollably heaves.

his head falls into the deep of your neck, still breathing heavy but applied kisses there. Once he catches his breath, he sits back up and pulls out, a curse leaving your lips as he grabbed the camera and pointed it at you, you looked at him behind the camera, he was still breathing heavy and he reached his hand to your lips, his thumb brushing over them before you took it into your mouth and sucked, a smirk and a small chuckle left his lips before he took out his thumb and traced it along your body, you were covered in sweat, your body glistening heavenly, or at least he thought so. the camera following, all the way down until he zoomed in on your fucked out area, seeinng the cum slowly leaking from your hole and your clit visibly swollen. he separates your folds from each other, “man i could really eat you out again” he joked.

[jishyucks]

Baby, Please Come Home – ldh

‣ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader

‣ genre: fluff !!!, established relationship

‣ wc: 2.0k

‣ summary: They weren’t lying when they said that the holiday season was the busiest time of year. With finals rolling around, gift shopping for your family, and keeping yourself in check, you barely have time to give your boyfriend the attention he wants. Donghyuck, however, has a way to work around this; alternatively, in which Donghyuck just wants one kiss and you think it’ll be funny not to give it to him

‣ warnings: clingy!hyuck (so it’s just hyuck being his normal self) and reader's a menace for not giving him the kisses (he deserves),, I tried to make it tooth-rottingly cute,,, keyword is tried

‣ an: honestly did this for me, I really needed something disgustingly cute with hyuck okay? (im serious, i was giggling writing this),,, this is lowkey so different from everything i’ve written which was why I was excited to write it >ᴗ< pls enjoy!

Series Masterlist

It’s 8 in the morning and you wake up before your alarm.

That alarm was your boyfriend. 

Typically, your beauty sleep would be disrupted by Donghyuck bearing all of his weight on you, smothering you against the mattress. He’d pepper your face with kisses, whispering a short ‘good morning’ in between each of them. Then, he’d press his cheek right up to yours before he sighed at the warmth. 

He’d always be the first one to wake up given that he made the dumb ass mistake of scheduling 8AMs for two semesters straight (only tolerating it because he could end the school day sooner), but the past week was different.

Donghyuck had finished his exams two weeks earlier than you—each one of them being planned back-to-back by the university—while your exams were spread apart, reaching right until the school closed for the holidays. 

Sure, you preferred Donghyuck’s exam schedule, considering you had far more things to check off your list than you could keep track of, but it was just something you had to accept. You were going to be booked and busy for the days leading up to Christmas and you couldn’t do shit about it. 

A guttural groan bubbles out from your chest as you go to roll out of bed, eyes still half-lidded. You’re already mentally preparing yourself for your day, listing and prioritizing everything you had to do and setting small goals you wanted to complete before dinner. 

Yet, before you can leave the warmth of your bed, you find yourself restrained by two arms, tugging you backward and snugly pressed against the owner's body. 

“Don’t go.” 

“Hyuck, I have so much shit to do.” You try to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but when you struggle, you realize that he’s fixed you in his arms by interlocking his fingers. 

He pulls you in closer, “Just for longer, please?” 

You’re positioned so that Donghyuck was able to nestle his head in the crook of your neck, and you wanted nothing else than to just stay here for a little while longer. The room was chilly and the feeling of your boyfriend’s warmth made his touch a lot more alluring than it would usually be at such an ugly hour. 

You shake your head. “Hyuck, you’re acting like we never cuddle.” 

Donghyuck lets out a groan and you feel the vibrations of his throat against your shoulder, “I know, but you’ve been sooo busy lately and I never get to actually cuddle with you.” He presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing it before he buries his head deeper where it had been. 

“Shut up, you big baby,” you snort. You elbow him softly in hopes that he’ll let you go, but he only does the opposite. And he doesn’t respond, simply settling with the wordless act of pulling you in even closer, “I need to go, babe.”

He says nothing and you’re convinced that he’s drifted back to sleep, breath steady and his hot breath brushing against your exposed skin. You take this as your sign to free yourself, nimbly prying his joined fingers open before barely slipping out of his arms. 

“Sunshine~” Donghyuck murmurs into his pillow, his arms going limp. 

“Later. I promise.”

You leave him be to get ready, shaking your head as you laugh at his behaviour. Donghyuck was and is clingy—and not in the irritating, almost toxic way. He was the endearing type of clingy, always finding ways to engage in skinship between the two of you. It's his love language, after all, so you’ve grown to learn to love it. You’re honestly surprised that the man hasn’t gone crazy with how scarce the physical touch has been lately, being that you weren’t home for the majority of the day.

Once you’ve gotten changed, you finish getting ready in the bathroom, not quite caring to put effort into the look for the day because you know you’re going to end up all haggard by the end of it. 

Entering the kitchen, where your school materials were still scattered from the night before, you're met with the sight of Donghyuck sitting in the chair next to what will be your chair. Two mugs, both filled to the brim with hot coffee, were placed in front of the boy, who had his hands distinguishably crossed on his lap and posture being the straightest it's been since birth. 

“I made us coffee.” 

There’s a comically u-shaped grin placed on his lips and you want to laugh out loud. 

“Thanks, Hyuckie.” You pull your chair back and sit in it, crossing your legs (criss-cross applesauce) before you go to turn your laptop on. 

He waits for you to say or do something more, sitting in silence as he takes tiny sips from his coffee. His gaze feels intense as if he's trying to read your thoughts or burn holes through the sides of your face, and he hardly blinks, keeping his eyes focused on you with unwavering intensity.

“Lee Donghyuck quit staring at me.” You don’t lift your attention from your computer, bringing your mug up to your lips. 

“Aren’t you going to give me a ‘thank you’ kiss?” From how he's talking, you just know he’s pouting, but you don’t want to look at him, knowing that one look at your boyfriend would send you down a spiral of distractions—and frankly, you really couldn’t afford any distractions right now. 

“Nope.” 

“Even just one little peck on the cheek?” An ugly sound comes out from underneath you, coming straight from Donghyuck moving his chair along the hardwood floors. “Please?”

“Nope.” Donghyuck angles his head so that he is almost blocking the view of your computer, “Please? Just one on my cheek, or on my forehead—”

“I said later, remember, babe?” Your eyes flicker to meet his own and then you look away, “I promised, too.”

You’re a bit relieved when he says nothing. Instead, he stands up and heads to the living room. Although there was a tiny part of you worried that you might have upset him, you know Donghyuck, and he rarely lets small things bother him. 

If anything, he was likely just scheming up another way to persuade you into giving him a kiss.

Pushing through a few more topics, you almost forget that Donghyuck was still in the apartment with you. That is until he starts whistling aloud as if trying to create the illusion of being occupied.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s making his merry way over to you, concealing something small behind his back. Once he's right behind you, he reveals it, holding it up for both of you to see.

His shuffling pulls you out of your state of focus, “Yes, Hyuck?” 

“Look up.”

You’re not sure what to expect when it comes to Donghyuck, but you look up nonetheless, deciding to take a break and actually follow his wishes. You let your head fall back to look at whatever the hell this boy was up to now. 

“Mistletoe~” Donghyuck sings. He smiles, the chub at the top of his cheeks covering the bottom half of his eyes. 

You glare at him, “Babe, that’s a random leaf.” 

Maybe Donghyuck has gone crazy. 

He pouts, “Can’t you pretend?”

“No,” you attempt to refocus on your work, trying to block out the fact that Donghyuck was waving a leaf in front of your face as if it would genuinely convince you to give him a kiss. 

Honestly, at this point, it would’ve been easier for you to simply give your boyfriend a peck on the lips and have him leave you alone, but you’re honestly not hating the attention he’s giving you. That, and you wanted to see if he’d do anything else to earn your affection. 

You continued on with your day as usual, scanning through familiar topics and thoroughly rereading your weaker ones. Surprisingly, Donghyuck’s chance of receiving a kiss from you relied on the scruffed-up leaf he had probably plucked from one of your house plants, and he hadn’t chosen to switch up his strategy. 

“I thought you liked Christmas and the holiday season and winter,” Donghyuck lists, following you around the apartment. You’ve now checked your study session off of your list and you were preparing to go out for errands and brief Christmas shopping. (Spoiler alert: you weren’t dragging your boyfriend along with you). 

“I do.”

He frowns, “Then why aren’t you upholding the mistletoe rule? We’ve been under it a million times today and I got no kisses from you.” 

“That’s because it’s not mistletoe, Hyuck.” You slip your puffer on before forcefully pushing your feet into your sneakers. Donghyuck follows you to the door, leaf still in hand the same way a kid holds their stuffed animal. “I’ll see you later, okay? If you need anything while I’m out just text me.” 

“No goodbye kiss?” 

“Later.” 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Your phone buzzes while you’re in line for checkout. 

Loml ‹𝟹

just remembered what I needed

Loml ‹𝟹

a kiss from u :(

You (lovingly) roll your eyes and respond. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You were exhausted and starving, the arches of your feet aching from taking you from one place to another. You’d say today was a success, having checked off all of your to-do’s for the day. 

You’re out of breath from lugging the bags down the hall and you’re not sure whether your fingertips felt cold because of Jack Frost or from the weight of the bags cutting circulation. But at this point, after you’ve finally managed to turn the key with your knuckles, it was a reward simply being able to drop the bags by the door. 

“Babe, I’m home!” It’s odd when you’re returned with no greeting at the door, something you’ve grown used to ever since you moved in together. “Babe?” 

You move deeper into your home, the fatigue momentarily forgotten. The absence of the familiar sounds—no running shower, no clicking of Donghyuck's keyboard, no loud singing—piqued your curiosity. 

Your gaze scans the main area of your home. The dining table lights were on, a pot of kimchi jjigae sitting on the stove, the hallway to the bedroom was off, no lights leaking through any door cracks… where the hell was he?

“Hyuck?”

Heading to the living room, you finally catch sight of your boyfriend knocked out on the couch. It's a downright adorable scene—knees pulled up to his chest, hair sticking out in different directions, and his arms dangling off the sofa. You wonder how long he’s been there for. 

When you round the couch to get to him, you almost laugh out loud at the sight of that damn leaf still clutched in his hand. It was sitting in his loosening grip, creased and worn out from the way it's been handled. Donghyuck was committed to getting a kiss from you. And now you almost feel bad that you’ve left him hanging for the whole day. 

You kneel down so that your face is right in front of Donghyuck’s, “Hyuck.” 

He doesn’t stir until sink your index finger into his cheek.

“Sunshine?” He calls, eyes still closed. 

“Did you eat?” 

Donghyuck’s eyes open in the slightest before he shakes his head, “I was waiting for you.” 

Your heart melts. 

You’ll never get used to that.

“Let’s eat, then.” You bring your hand up to brush his hair out of his face before tracing your thumb over his moles, “I’m starving.” 

He shakes his head and whines, “Not before I get my kiss.” 

“My kisses before kimchi jjigae?” You say, feigning shock. You bring a hand up to your chest and let your mouth fall open for effect. 

Donghyuck doesn’t give you a verbal reply. Instead, he looks back at you with the look he knows damn well you couldn’t resist, pout on his lips and everything. 

You sigh, “Just one.”

That was a joke—you weren’t the only one here dying for a kiss (or rather, give kisses). 

Bringing your lips up to his face, you pepper the man’s face in kisses, making sure that there is not one spot that you’ve missed. Donghyuck’s face melts into a soft smile, eyes closing as he lets you move his head around so that you can plant your lips wherever you want.

Before you could pull away, Donghyuck reaches up to cradle your cheek, urging you to come back down to press his lips onto yours. 

“Just one.” Donghyuck echoes before he pushes himself to sit up, hair still a mess. 

“You’re crazy if you think I prefer kimchi jjigae over your kisses.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: hyuck looks like he has the most kissable cheeks ever im sorry,, i just had to put that out there

[f10werfae]

Kissies and Waxed

pairing: Lumberjack!Henry Cavill x Short!Shy!Wife!Reader

summary: Y/n gets all shy and adorable with her grumpy husband on their wedding night, letting him enjoy his waxed present(Dom Henry) (requested by anon)

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Come on sugar, no need to be shy, m’your husband now. Seen your pretty pussy a handful a’times” Henry grumbled tugging on the laced back of his wife’s wedding gown, his lips dragging themselves down her neck and exposed shoulders. His larger hands coming round to subtly cup her breasts, giving them a light squeeze and jiggle.

“D-do I havta get butt naked?” She cutely whispered out, wrapping her arms around her smaller stature, her french tip nails highlighting their elegance. Having dated for a few months then eloping, Henry had definitively manoeuvred his way into her sweet tight pussy repeatedly; but for some reason tonight she was feeling shyer than normal.

“I mean i’d love to see ya, but it’s up to you” Henry chuckled, already pulling down the top of her dress, even with his words. “But you can trust me honey, don’t you trust me? love me?” Henry frowned furrowing his brows, making eye contact with her wide eyes through the mirror, the poor woman not noticing his manipulative tone.

“W-what! Of course I do! I promise I do Hen! Please forgive me” Y/n whimpered turning around in his arms, instantly feeling at ease when his burly arms wrapped around her short frame, his head resting atop hers. “I know you do sweet pea, I know” He whispered kissing the top of her head, he thought she was absolutely adorable and sexy at the same time, God he loves her so much; even if he shows it a different way than most..

“Can I take this off you sweets?”

Nodding into his chest, his fingers skilfully removed all the lace, his fingers tracing down her bare back and noticing that she was wearing nothing under the heavy gown. “No underwear? How naughty of you baby” Henry smirked softly smacking her ass softly, rubbing it with his palm afterwards.

“S’too warm n’ was too sensitive” Y/n whimpered rubbing her thighs together desperately, her face tucked away from him. “Sensitive? Why?” Henry asked confused, he hasn’t seen her since two days before the wedding for tradition, unless she had played with herself like she wasn’t supposed to.

“S-Stephanie brought me to get my private parts w-waxed” She whispered not knowing how he’d react, looking at the gown which had now pooled around her freshly painted toes, hearing nothing but his breaths starting to deepen. “So my pussy, is bald?”

Letting out a giggle at his stupid words Y/n stepped back a bit, doubling over in a giggle fit as he simply chuckled and smiled back. “What? Im serious, let me see my bald pussy” He smirked stepping forward, his eyes travelling down to see the bush that was usually on her mound, was now fully gone; instead showing off her soft smooth looking skin.

“Jesus baby, did ya do it for me?” His finger came under her chin so their eyes could meet, his lips coming closer to press a small kiss to her chin. Her hands holding on tightly to the waistband of his briefs, her lip held tightly beneath her teeth. “Yeah, wanted to be pretty for you!” She said naively smiling up at him, showing off all her beautiful pearly whites as she batted her lashes at him.

“So sweet, but you’re already so sweet n gorgeous sugar, s’just an extra present for me huh” He nuzzled his cheek against hers as he slowly walked her backwards towards their now shared marital bed, filled with new cotton sheets and velvet blankets to keep them warm during this harsh winter.

“R-really ya think so?” She whispered as he crawled on top of her, gasping as he left kisses all over her neck and chest, his lips tugging and licking at her pebbled nipples. “Oh baby trust me, I know so” He growled moving downwards to come face to face with her wet centre.

An excited smile coming onto his face as he nuzzled his face into her smooth pussy, lightly kissing its lips almost as if it was her mouth.

“s’smooth honey, still miss my woman’s bush though” He smirked keeping each hand on her breasts, his nose nudging against her engorged clit teasingly, breathing in her vanilla scent. “ill keep that in mind for next time b-bear” She whispered nodding her head seriously, Henry loved how his wife would do absolutely anything just to keep him happy, and he’d make sure she was looked after.

“Course you will sugar” Henry said more to himself, dipping his tongue in between her sticky folds, humming as he tasted her sweet self on his tongue. Not even giving her a second to adjust before his mouth is ravaging her centre like crazy, causing her upper body to sit up, her thighs clamping onto his head to keep his mouth on her. “T-too quick, oh-oh my” She whimpered out meeting Henry’s icy blue eyes, noticing the darkened lusty look in them, telling her he was nowhere near done tonight. He spat right onto her mound, making it shiny and slippery with his tongue before delving back into her hole again

Feeling her hole clench around his thick tongue, he pulled it out, giving her pussy one last tongue kiss before crawling over her; a smirk on his face as he watched her whimper and whine out. “Gotta love on my favourite pair of lips” He whispered against her lips, kissing it softly, the wetness on his lips transferring onto hers and letting her taste herself.

His tip was already prodding at her wet hole, his body knowing hers like the back of his hand. Remembering all the times he had taken her in the back of his truck, during a picnic, at the drive-in cinema and of course right on their front porch.

“A-ah” Y/n moaned out feeling Henry slowly start to inch into her extra sensitive pussy, his rough pubes scratching onto her newly waxed skin. “So sexy baby, my sweet wifey” He moaned bottoming out inside her, his heavy sac smacking against her rear softly. Wrapping her hands around each bicep Y/n felt hot tears build up in her eyes, Henry’s nestle of curls had rubbed against her clit, his balls had slapped her pussy and his fingers were toying with her nubs.

“F-feel you everywhere, I love it” She gasped out hanging her head back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her mouth sat agape. The tip of her tongue found itself being sucked by Henry, his mouth needing to taste her even more, he was addicted to her. That’s why he needed her, just as much as she needed him.

“Now that you’re my wife, gonna make sure you’re full of me every single day sugar, ya like that? Have ya walkin’ around our cabin drippin like a broken faucet” He growled letting go of her tongue, his mouth directly whispering the filthy things into her ear, in turn her moans were echoing in his. Her nails scraping against his back while his hips smacked into hers, her pussy being slapped continuously simultaneously.

“Fuck your pussy is going to make me cum sugar, your sweet honey pussy is going to make your husband cum” He said almost whimpering, his thrusts growing erratic and rough as he clawed at the sheets by her head, her own voice sore and hoarse as she squirted all over his messy cock.

“S-squirted?-“ Y/n looked down shocked, an embarrassed look on her face,

“Maybe this bald thing is the way to go then huh?” Henry teased before thrusting one more time, his hips still slightly grinding against her poor clit as his cum spurted in waves inside her cavern. Both of them breathing out tiredly, Y/n peppering Henry’s face with kisses, muttering out small words of ‘i love you’ ‘you deserve some kissies’ ‘my husband’

“Aw baby lemme give you a kissy since you love ‘em so much” He smiled rubbing his lips against hers, his fingers cupping her jaw enough for her mouth to pucker open, his tongue licking into it lewdly before spitting into it. A smiley look on Y/n’s face as she hugged him to her chest, giggling and squeezing him tightly, a sense of love overfilling her. Only letting go once she realised that Henry had actually fallen asleep, her big hibernating bear

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @beck07990 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @athena-roy @fdl305 @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @princess-paramour @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @sparklemarysunshine @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @aerangi @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @spencerreidat4am @keiva1000 @acornacre @ninasw0rld @ggmimitf @teti-menchon0604 @thebaileybugle @p4st3lst4rs @grxnde-dwt @kzhlvlysstuff @thoughtsofreid @cilliansangel @theekyliepage @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @imahallucinationnn @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @kimm4710 @esposadomd @kaydesssssssss @morenoc @HcavsCevans

[celestie0]

so your insecure about your smut I hear ? if it makes you feel better I still mentally jerk it in memory of the following:

kickoff chapter 6 particularly when reader’s collapsed over the sink and gojos still on his knees behind her just WATCHING and then when their eye fucking eachother in the mirror and readers hand is reached behind to grab the back of his head THATS SO SEXY

the tension in chapter 8 i know there was only a proposition of smut but when it was stripped away I think that’s when I fell in love with the series because the slow burn is just everything - disclaimer I don’t jork it to that I just like the scene

The duration of kickoff chapter 11 couch scene 👌. My stomach does the thing every time, dry humping is elite, and the high school in love-ness between them 😭I’m throwing up

THE IHM SNEAK PEAKS

I refuse to believe you think those are bad as well like tf???? And not just the lazy morning sex that had me bust a load but the death row meal comment??????? Making out while doing calculus in his head so not to get a boner???? And for someone who’s not a fan of dirty talk like babe come on, the way you capture all the different sexy aspects of that sexy man like the vulgarity had me HOT and then his dumbass down bad-ness just UGh the need to put a baby in him right now

anyway that deserved its own paragraph but then obviously there’s works with smut as the actual premise

L&L specifically the bj scene I think you awakened my praise kink with that one - btw will we ever get a part 2 because I’m pretty sure that plan fell through but just letting you know I’m all up for seconds, no pressure if it’s not a part of ur agenda though

Round the clock.

actually hold up let me elaborate on these above two points in my full opinion because I really want you to understand this, the tropes/pairings/dynamics which your brain births are so fucking hot that the smut scene is instantly made good even if it’s not your most proud part of the writing process, this links to the common knowledge which ihm reader preached in the recent chapter- men will get hard to anything - but unfortunately it’s not so easy as a woman, personally that’s why I tend to resort to reading cause there’s nothing more psychologically immersing and of course the point of fanfiction is we’re already in love with our husband gojo so just add a little sexy lore ie. older, boxer, babysitter and babe I’m already halfway there cause of the quality of your ideas and writing, smut is only part of the experience and it’s not necessarily the most important

Last but not least that one domestic drabble you wrote I know it’s kind of a pwp moment but the position wifey reader and toji did it in omg and when he called her a slut and when he had her cockdrunk and babbling and begging for a baby 😫✋

honorable mention because like I said smut isn’t everything: the scene where ihm Gojo is shirtless fixing the kitchen sink and drinking oj from a mug and then when he picked up reader while she’s in a measly silk gown … yeah I jork it to that😔

in conclusion ur smut makes me horny🙂 so I think your sufficiently successful in achieving its primary purpose, please don’t be so hard on yourself and I hope you can learn to find more self satisfaction in these parts of your work where you lack confidence and see it in a better light

<333

ok hi anon im back! lol

first of all thank u sm. some people might think a fanfic author would desire a good dicking down from their favorite fictional character and a blunt shortly thereafter. but no. THIS is all a fanfic author truly wants.

HAHAH no but in serious you’re so sweet to point outtt these little details i could sob :”) i was cheesing so hard in the morning when i read it haha!!

i always forget the kickoff ch6 party bathroom scene happened xd sometimes i get thrown into a state of shock when i remember i wrote it. and that’s the thing!! i was so excited n giddy to write it bc it was back when i didnt think too hard about my writing haha. somewhere along the line i just became so self conscious ab smut :( but anywho yes the couch scene in kickoff ch11 had me screaming while i was writing it i was so excited to eventually post it so i’m so happy you enjoyed ittt aaa :”)

STOP bc i have SO much smut planned for ihm 😭😭 ranging from borderline crack smut to passionate lovemaking loool i can’t wait to get to those parts of the series but ouf yea them insecurities be haaaaard. i think i just don’t see a lot of representation of the kind of smut i like to write in the fandom very much so it gets me second guessing 🥲 like idk i like dirty talk but it has to be kinda on the nose?? like the whole part where ihm gojo says the thing ab doing calculus in his head so he doesnt get a hard-on 😂😂 like idk it’s so cute n hot to me in my head but it’s kinda niche to my preferences haha

sorry i’m rambling but like ugh same w the morning sex scene i wanna get to that part sooo bad but i just hope i don’t second guess that scene once i get to it 😩😩 bc oh my the way my coochie was clenching the whole time while writing it LOL i sob

aw yeahh i was supposed to do a pt2 for l&l but hmm i kinda got bored of the concept. it was my first major oneshot smut n like aaa i like it but :0 i think it does stand good alone as just one part

thanks my dear :”) i agree i think…well, i have a hard time giving myself credit for anything usually haha, but i do think that the character dynamics i created outside of i guess the smutty stuff rlly helps? i guess its kinda like a buffer when i get into writing smut bc im like oh yknow even if this isnt the hottest thing my readers have read i hope that they enjoy it bc they like my versions of gojo xd so you’re so sweet for validating me on that HAHAHA

also stooooop i love that scene in ihm. the one where he picks her up effortlessly while she’s on all fours in her grandma nightgown on the floor 🤣🤣 idk if this is so hyperspecifically arousing but like the thought of sporty muscular gojo having just come back from a run n he’s manhandling vintage silk nightgown-wearing reader while she’s has barely awoken from sleep is so cute n silly n hot to me. sorry it sounds like im jerking myself off here but i just love ihm gojo sm honestly i would like to fuck him until his balls look like raisins :/

anywhooo you’re too sweet. like seriously. and i saw your follow up ask, an hour?? imma sob. i’m saving the link for this ask to look back on whenever i feel bad ab my smut writing abilities!! or just writing in general. i fear u may have saved me anon LOL i haven’t felt this excited to write smut in a while! i appreciate you :)) much love!

[angelus-scripturae]

Heyy! Could you do headcannons for the boys with a partner that is a very well known youtuber/streamer? Thank youuuu! <3 (also I'm Dyslexic so sorry for any spelling mistakes!)

Of course! I actually wanted to write something like this soon so thank you for giving me a reason to!

Also i’m dyslexic too i very heavily rely on autocorrect lol :))

ALSO IM SORRY ABOUT MY PROLONGED ABSENCE ONE OF THE PEOPLE HERE WHO HELPED LEFT SO IM TRYNA LEARN TO WRITE SMUT SO I CAN KEEP GOONG WITH IT AND NOW ONE OF MY IRL FRIENDS IS HERE (sorry mate) PLEASE BARE WITH MEZ

The Boys headcannons for an influencer!reader.

Pairings: EddieVR x Reader, juicyfruitsnacks x reader, joshdub x reader, sleepymully x reader, YourNarrator x reader.

Warnings: Bad language, mentions of guns/ robbery, shitty writing.

Eddie

I feel like you would be a paranormal investigation channel in this case

Or a channel that does scary short films/ skits

You upload your clips from streams and videos onto tiktok and other social media

One time when doing a “Worlds scariest tiktoks?” video, someone had sent in one of your videos for him to react to

He found it so scary that he reached out to you.

He asked for you to help him and the boys at some haunted places and you two just began to bond and become close.

One night he invited you out to ‘record’ with him and the boys but when you arrived, he was there with a hand made poster.

Almost like a promposal

At first, you started laughing out of confusion but when you realised it was serious you immediately said yes to dating him.

Fans had notice how close you two had gotten (even more than before) and started theorising.

Eventually, you told them after having a talk about where you wanted the relationship to go

Once everyone knew, the edits and posts talking about the two of you flooded in.

You both loved how sweet everyone was

Of course you both got hate from fans as does every internet-open relationship between two well loved people

However, all that matters is the two of you.

You help each other when the hate gets a bit extreme with love and breaks from socials

Eventually after a few years, Eddie takes you out to ‘record’ once again

However, when you get to the studio you were due to record at, there’s a small table with a candle in the middle

You turn around to ask Eddie what was going on, you saw him on one knee with a small, black, velvet box in hand

It seemed like a cheesy and cliché situation but as he asked you to marry him, you barely let him finish before saying yes.

Let’s just say fans went crazy finding this out

Narrator

You probably know what I’m gonna say

You’re a VR voice actor channel.

like the ones that troll people in vr with different voices

or just a normal va channel but we’re going with VR rn

He was recording with the boys when he started with his deep voice in a sort of fake-flirting situation

You gave it right back ofc

He was startled at first but then you set up a hole storyline and his fans loved it.

At the time, you hadn’t known who he was

but your comments did

they urged to to do more with him and so you reached out

you made more and more content together to the point the fans shipped you to the moon and back

you couldn’t deny your feelings for him any longer

so one day in a call with him you asked him out.

He said yes almost immediately

then backtracked and tried to act “cool” about it

that made you giggle

so you began dating and the fans could tell

Narrator became so much more bashful and touchy around you

especially in person

Although they new for sure when he proposed in a video where you all went to disney land and they loved it

so did you

You started crying

I feel like you were at the wishing well thing and you said something like

“i wish to marry my best friend” or smth as a joke

then you turned around and he was on one knee

The amount of edits with sappy songs in the background…

thousands

Juicy

You’re a streamer in this case

You were playing your favourite game on stream

it just so happened to be juicy’s favorite as well

Let’s say the boys were doing a “if you laugh you donate”

Juicy laughed and chose you to donate to

Then got hyped when he saw the game

Had to donate like $100

you got fucking hype at the money amount

You also sort of knew who he was so you freaked out that too

let’s time skip to after you ended stream

you checked your phone to find a twitter notif from him asking to record with you sometime

You obviously instantly accepted duh

so you did

you knew you liked him but never once thought he felt the same i mean it was just professional right?

WRONG

he was head over heels for you

always finding ways to be close to you or talk to you

Always trying to make you laugh

I mean always

makes him happy y’know

when he asked you out, he was half asleep on a discord call and just blurted it out

You said yes but had to remind him in the morning

He then got bummed out about not being able to say it extravagantly

accepted it none the less

Mully

You were dating wayyyy before you began youtube

Usually playing horror games or watching scary animations

However you weren’t very public

the fans only found you when you posted your engagement tweet. ikr

they went insane over it and bombarded you both with questions

“when’s the wedding?”

“how long have you been together?”

And the obvious jokes

a few people were upset you kept it from them but it’s your life innit lol

You can keep whatever you want from them

You even posted a vlog with him planning your wedding.

The fans had no clue when it was but waited semi-patiently

WENT INSANE when you dropped the date

on the day, you posted on insta with all the cute photos of you two kissing and having fun

but had a VERY cursed caption

he however posted cursed videos like you drunk after the reception or

any of the boys doing dumb shit

but had one of the sweetest captions you’ve ever seen

when the full video of the wedding dropped there were HUNDREDS of edits made

almost brought a tear to your eye :,(

Josh

G-mod

You met in G-mod

now I think i could stop it there but i’ll go into detail

you were kinda fuckin around and you were pretending to be a receptionist

when juicy and reekid came in doing their usual shenanigans trying to rob you

the audacity

You switched it onto them ofc

and it made amazing content so he asked for your discord

you didn’t talk for a few weeks before you got a video recommended to you saying

“Psycho receptionist pulled a gun on me!”

You watched it and soon realise it was what you had done

You sent him a message along the lines of

“Psycho? i though i was pretty tame.”

He then sent you a message apologising and offering to change the title

you then pointed out the fact you were joking and he went back to usual josh

Then asked you to join him and Eddie for a scary discord video

you agreed and had a blast

I mean of course you did with your effortless humour

through that you gained quite a large following on your main channels

you continued to record with josh but also focused on your own channels too

after about half a year he confessed to you

i’m the middle of recording a G-mid video

at first you thought it was a bit

when you realised it was serious you instantly agreed.

you let the relationship move quite slow

and the fans loved you both together when you became public on your one year anniversary (with a tweet)

though many people pressured you to tell them if you had plans for marriage

your answer was always the same

“we’ll see how it goes.”

Hi lovelies! sorry for such a long absence life is fucking me over recently and I’m hoping you’re not too mad for the absence

also thank yous for 75 followers <33333

[cherrysurf]

YAYA EVENT!!!! let me get pecan, waffle cone, cheesecake bites (pick whatever character u feel like writing), & oreos!!

it’s not suna but i think this is cute idk 😞

105 dates for suga!

teacher!sugawara x f!reader

contains; fluff, profanity, crack, blind dates, hopeless romantic suga

Suga would say he’s a good man, he has an exceptional background, was fit, still active in sports ocaccially, he was a good teacher heck even some of his students would say he was the best teacher ever? So how come it’s been about 105 dates over the past two years and none have led to anything? i mean there some he'd never forget like the girl that threw up during the date because she was hungover from last night, then the girl who ran out mid dinner, then the other girl who was a teacher but a strict teacher who kids hated her and he really didn’t want to be associated with someone like that. So sad to admit he was losing hope, i mean seeing all his friends get or have been in serious relationships made him feel like he was falling behind—

so he told himself tonight as he looked in the mirror “if this isn’t the one i’m never going on another date” he spoke out into the ether of his apartment he took a deep breath and smiled to try and have a positive note on this date.

He walked into the restaurant slightly nervous you’d think after being on so many dates he’d overcome that but no, he was shock to hear from the hostess that you had already arrived he’s never been the last one to get to the date so it was a weird start already he found himself approaching the table the host told him where you’d be at, mind you this was a blind date so he had no idea who or how you looked all he said for the date was to go to the table reserved under his name for this date, and there he found you looking off to the side with a glass a water by your hand, it made him smile how gracefully you looked. He wiped his hands on his jeans before getting closer, the sound of shoes on the wooden floor caught your attention to be met with a soft pair of eyes. To be honest everything about him seemed “soft?” if that’s a word that made sense for him, he sat down at the table examining all your features “hi i’m sugawara” he said sticking his hand out to your face “hi it’s finally nice to put a name to a face i’m yn” you say taking his head giggling a bit that’s when it hits him of course you knew his name it was his face you didn’t know, he wanted to slap himself out of embarrassment but refrained until later tonight to debrief on this date. “Oh yeah im sorry” he said with a nervous laugh still not letting go of your hand until you looked at him with widened eyes at his nervousness and being very apologetic. “It's fine, don’t worry sugawara” you said “please call me suga all my friends do.” he added “suga it is then” you smiled “so suga tell me about being a teacher how’s that?” you say questioning the silvered haired man, usually suga would hold back on talking too much about the joys and or pains of being a teacher but when he saw how attentive you were listening he started and couldn’t stop until the host came over and asked what you two wanted for dinner—

The food was good. “Do you want to order wine?” he asked you, noticing you haven’t ordered anything of the alcohol sort “no thank you i’m driving” you say politely “same, so what do you do?” he asked playing with his food, “uhm i’m actually a writer, it’s not really typical i mean with my family they don’t necessarily approve but i’ve always had a passion for it so..” you say awkwardly laughing for dumping a little too much on him “that’s actually interesting, one of my friends he’s a editor for manga magazine maybe you know him?” Suga said “yea, i know a few people who do that, what's his name?” you say “akaashi keiji” he said “no way?! you know him? He's one of my good friends. He works at the office next to my building. Our buildings are under the same thing, just different departments” you said happily that you had common ground with him. which made him smile—

The date had been going really well by now. It checked off all of sugas things on his list. amazing conversation, common ground, jokes, friendliness, you were beautiful, funny, sweet and smart and very attentive and engaging in the conversation. He wanted to pursue this more but did you feel the same? as you both walked out after paying (he paid of course) he offered to walk to you your car which you kindly and happily accepted, you liked suga his demeanor the way he carried himself, how kind he was, he was nicer and more respectful than any of the guys you’ve met his eyes and his tone was sweet like honey, you wanted more but did he feel the same? that’s when you too arrived in your car you thanked suga and just as he was about to walk away he turned around “hey uhm you can totally say no but i was wondering if you’d like to go on a second date?” he says the smile on your name couldn’t have been more brighter “yeah id really like that suga.” you said feeling your heart beating faster “perfect see you soon yn.” he said “see you soon too suga” you say waving him off.

a/n- not sure how to feel about this tbh..

[sleepy-achilles]

HbTaker ideas… hmm.. how about:

Taker being frustrated with something humans would find simple (either a task or a concept) and Shawn patiently and kindly helping him?

Shawn being sick and Taker looking after him?

Either one of them getting peeved at the other for something silly (eg. Leaving the dishes overnight instead of washing them)?

Shawn being fascinated over Taker working on his bike (fixing / cleaning it, or something).

Either one of them damages / breaks something in the house and is worried what the other will say - but it’s all OK when they do.

If I’ve totally missed the mark with these thoughts, please let me know!

I'm tryna get out of my writers block so imma do them all.

Hbtaker

------------------------------------------------------------------

1.

Taker let out a frustrated growl as he throws the book down. Shawn raises his head from the newspaper and glances into the kitchen. He's been hearing crashes and curses from there all morning.

Normally Shawn would leave taker alone, knowing he likes to try do these things alone and will eventually come ask Shawn for help but Shawn also knows takers in a very shitty mood because he's had a very shitty week. So he knows that call isn't coming.

Shawn carefully makes his way into the kitchen and pauses at the mess. "Baby? Everything okay?" Shawn asks confused but gently. Taker looks at him, his face is one of pure frustration. "I was trying to make you dinner. You've done so much for me this week and I wanted to do something nice but I just can't work any of this or get any of the food to turn out edible!" Taker snaps. Shawn smiles and moves towards him, hugging his waist. "Thank you baby. How about we clean this mess and ill help you?" Shawn asks. Taker frowns and holds Shawn's arm. "You serious?" Taker asks quietly. "Of course baby. Cmon" Shawn smiles moving away. Taker smiles softly and helps Shawn clean.

Shawn is gentle and patient with taker as he teaches him how to cook dinner, how to use the different equipment in the kitchen, what ingredients to use. And taker? Taker is forever grateful he's got Shawn, that Shawn picked him.

------------------------------------------------------------------

2.

The sneeze echos through the house, stirring taker from his nap. He sits up on the sofa and looks around confused. That's when the sneeze happens again. "Shawn?" Taker mutters as he gets up and follows the noise. He ends up in the bedroom and he stares in horror. Shawn is pulling one of his hoodies on as he sniffles and struggles to breathe. "No" Shawn looks at taker confused. "No?" Shawn asks. "Back in bed. Now." Taker orders. Shawn fully faces him. "Im fine taker, it's a simple cold-" "bed. Now!" Taker snaps taking Shawn by the shoulders and leading him to the bed. Shawn raises an eyebrow as he's pushed onto the bed. "Rest. Sleep. Stay here, ill have goldust bring over some soup and medicine-" "Taker it's a simple cold" Shawn sighs as he's wreslted under the blankets. "I don't care. Let me look after you." Taker tells him.

Shawns cheek flush slightly. "Okay" he whispers. Taker nods and walks out. When Shawn thinks about it, letting taker look after him wouldn't be a bad idea at all.

And it wasn't. The whole day Shawn got to stay in bed whilst taker fed him, watered him, cuddled him and even carried him to and from the bath. It was paradise.

-

Shawn kisses takers cheek softly. "Thank you for looking after me" shawn whispers. "Anytime baby" Taker yawns as he adjusts the flannel over shawns forehead. "You can't get ill..right?" Shawn asks. "Nope" Taker smiles. Shawn smiles and rests his head on takers chest. "Night night" Shawn murmurs. "Night baby" Taker yawns.

The pair sit in silence when a sneeze echos through the bedroom. Shawn jolts up wide eyes and looks at taker. Taker stares at him with shock. Shawns smile grows. "Your sick!" Shawn gasps. "No-shawn no-shawn.." he groans as a damp flannel is slapped against his forehead. "Ill text goldie to drop is some soup tomorrow baby" Shawn smiles kissing Taker.

------------------------------------------------------------------

3.

Shawn was normally the calm one. But this? This was ticking all the wrong boxes in his head.

Taker stretches as he walks into the kitchen. "Morning baby" he yawns. "Morning baby?" Shawn asks. Taker pauses. "Whats wrong?" Taker asks. "Whats wrong? What's wrong?! What did I ask from you last night?" Shawn asks crossing his arms. Taker tries to think back. Nothing.

"You are really attractive right now baby" Taker tries, moving closer to shawn and grabbing his waist. Shawn immediately steps back and raises a very unimpressed eyebrow. "No. No amount of charm will get you out of this." Shawn snaps. "Worth a shot." Taker sighs rubbing his neck. "What did I do baby? Tell me" Taker frowns. Shawn steps aside, revealing a sink full of dishes.

"Oh baby no, you go relax, have a bath, get ready for bed, ill do the dishes and be right up." Shawn mocks Taker. "And what do we have here? Dishes from last night. Not clean. Infact, the sink isn't even got a single drop of water in it. No attempt was even made to do them." Shawn snaps. "Oh fuck..." Taker groans tilting his head back. "Im sorry baby..." he sighs. Shawn shakes his head. "One thing. One single thing." Shawn snaps before walking off.

Taker huffs. He really did fuck up. He makes his way towards the sink.

-

Shawn walks into the house, slipping the keys into his pocket as he adjusts his grip on the shopping bag. He pauses, the house is awfully fresh looking. He moves into the living room to see taker asleep on the sofa, cleaning products laid around him. Shawn smiles softly and kisses takers forehead.

He moves into the kitchen and places the bags on the counter. He immediately pauses. He can't believe it. "UNDERTAKER!?!" Shawn yells. The man had only moved the dishes out of the sink to fill the mop and clean the sink and left the dishes.

------------------------------------------------------------------

4.

Taker mutters to himself as he wipes his oil covered hands into the dirty rag. He just couldn't figure out why this bike wasn't working and it was starting to frustrate him.

Shawn? Shawn was leaning against the door enjoying the view. Taker in a pair of shorts and a vest? Yes please. Shawn watches his muscles flex as he throws the rag down.

Shawn let's out a low whistle. Taker lifts his head and looks at shawn with a raised eyebrow. "Something you like boy toy?" Taker asks. "Damn right and if you don't either join me in our bedroom or finally let us have sex on one of the bikes, like right now, I will go on strike." Shawn tells him. Taker chuckles. "I don't even know what that means. But my hands are dirty and I'm tryna fix this" Taker sighs. Shawn moves over and runs his fingers through takers hair. "And you are becoming frustrated and we both know that will stop you from completing it. And we can easily shower together after-" Shawn cuts himself off with a squeal as Taker suddenly stands, lifting him up. "Bike it is then baby" Taker chuckles.

------------------------------------------------------------------5.

Shawn stares at the broken vase in horror. What if it was a family vase? What if his mother hand picked it? What If it was the only thing taker had left from the house before the fire?

Shawn could feel the panic build as he dropped to his knees to pick the glass up, ignoring how it cut his skin.

He was being stupid. He was dancing around when cleaning and knocked it. It was a complete accident. He didn't mean to.

"Shawn? You good? It's fallen awfully quiet in there" Taker calls. "Yes! It's fine! Go back to your bike!" Shawn yelps. And boy wasn't that a mistake. Taker walks into the room to see Shawn hunched over something. "Shawn? What's wrong?" Taker asks. "N-Nothing!" Shawn cries. Takers eyes move to the now empty table. "Oh..oh baby it's just some ugly vase kane brought me, I've been tryna get rid of it for years." Taker tells him. He quickly moves to shawn as he sees the man shaking.

He kneels and takes shawns hands into his, brushing the glass off. "Baby, seriously its okay" Taker tells him softly. Shawn looks at him with watery eyes. "Yeah?" Shawn asks quietly. "Yeah. Didn't like it anyway. It was ugly and stupid." Taker tells him before kissing his hands. "Cmon, let's clean you up and then I'll clean this mess. And we won't tell kane." Taker tells him. "Okay..ok" Shawn whispers with a nod. "Atta boy" Taker smiles wiping shawns eyes and kissing his head.

------------------------------------------------------------------

NOTES

Out here saving my life with these asks.

Writers block and editors block has been kicking my ass lately.

Not amused at all.

Which is why these are so short.

[b3mym1stake]

A very serious the 1975 fanfiction.

This is.... interesting.... so um please dont take it seriously. There is nothing weird or nsfw about this. Just your average cringy 2014 style fanfiction.

PLEASE IGNORE ANY SPELLING OR PUNCTUATION MISTAKES I WROTE THIS AT THREE AM.

During the night, i was sleeping peacefully in my king sized bed, but in the morning, my mothers harsh and shallow voice awakened me. "Wake up you waste of space" she screamed. It didnt bother me. i have been allowing it to happen for years, me letting her treat me like shit i mean. It doesnt hurt me anymore. I get up and i go to the bathroom to wash up. As i stare into the mirror i notice all the imperfections in my skin. The deep gash of my forehead from when i had a huge pimple and just couldnt leave it alone, the multiple scars on my nose from peeling my skin too much in the summer when i got sunburned, the millia under my eye that is very permanently injured and scarred from when i was 12 and thought it was a pimple... Im so different than all the other girls... They all have glass skin and look like if Serena Van der Woodsen and Taylor Swift had a lovechild that was raised by Blair Waldorf. Yet here i was, imperfect and unloved, still feeling happy about who i was.

After i was done with all that daily philosophical thinking, i threw my long, blonde hair in a messy bun, wore my favourite band t-shirt, my "the 1975" muscle tank. I bought it after i saw taylor swift wearing it even though i absolutely love the 1975. I wear a pair of boho themed patterned leggings, and my high top uggs. I gaze into my shining blue orbs in the mirror and decide that today will be a day where i actually wear a bit of makeup. Unlike other girls, i dont need to wear makeup to feel pretty, i have found a source of happiness very deep in me that no one can ever truly take away.

"Autumn Raine!!!!! Come down RIGHT NOW!!!" My mother screamed from downstairs. I sighed, breathing away all those thoughts that had occured to me while i was zoning out while looking at myself in the bathroom mirror. "Cominggg!!" i said back, my voice soft and feminine. As i walked down the stairs, i saw four men sitting on our couch. For a second i thought my mom was making me go to casting for a COMPLEEEEETELY different thing, but then i remembered, im still her daughter and she probably wouldnt want that to happen right in front of her. However, after a close inspection, i figured out who the four unknown men sitting on our couch were, and how they werent so unknown after all....

"Matty, Adam, George and Ross?!?!?!" I say in surprise. "What the actual hell is the 1975 doing on my couch??" I think. "We are here for a very special reason, George says, his voice thick and coarse. He doesnt talk much but i bet that when he does, people listen. "We are here for you, actually" The small one says, his voice somehow both high and low pitched at the same time, "Im Matty, Matty Healy." He states and extends his hand for me to shake. "I know.. heh" I answer back shyly and shake his hand. He gives me a smile. "Your mother contacted us and said you guys were running low on money and that she needed to get rid of you asap" Adam continues, his voice more deeper than i expected based on how thin and zesty he looks. "Why would you pick me?" i asked, geniuenly wondering. "well," George says, his voice cold and mysterious, "it is quite a long story, according to our research, you are...." he stops abruptly. "i am what? Come on you cant just stop in the middle of that" i shout. "My sister." He states and looks to the side as if he is trying to hide his face. "Oh." i say, as it is all i manage to get out of me. "Am i seriously directly related to my favourite band?!?!?" I think, but it doesnt take long before my train of thought gets interrupted by George again. "My paren-" He stops. "Our parents, they couldnt afford to have another kid after they had me." He starts explaining. "Mom didnt have another option than to give birth to you, then give you away.. So thats exactly what she did." He sighs. "So, my- my- my mother is-is-is not my- my- my actual mom?" I say and my voice come out sounding more sad than how im actually feeling. "No, honey" My mom says. "Dont you "Honey" me, you have never been nice to me in my life. Now suddenly youre all nice and loving. Youre so fake" I say. My mom stands up, and raises her hand as if shes going to slap me. I close my eyes and prepare for the slap. Sure, ive been slapped by her before, but never infront of guests. Especially infront of actually important people. I brace myself for the slap, but the slap never came. Instead, i open my eyes and see.... a back? Its a weird pattern of a colorful floral thin button up shirt. (See picture for exact pattern hehe see what i did there lol)

"You will not touch our property." a voice said, that i later realised to be Matty. (writers note: that single line took me ten minutes to write because its so cringe i physically couldnt bring myself to write it) "Oh- so sorry." said my mother. I gave her a snyde look that i just knew annoyed her so much. Matty turned around, "Are you okay love?" He said. "Oh- oh um yeah its alright." I said and giggled. "Shall we go?" Ross suggested and slowly, all of them got up from the couch. "Wait," i said, worryingly "I havent even packed my stuff yet. i didnt know i would be getting out of here permanently." I say, pleading for some time to pack. "Okay go on," Matty said, "We need to have a chat with your mother." I nod. As im going up to my room, i hear Matty and George talking to my mom about how shes never gonna be able to contact me again and how no matter how badly she needs money she should never try to contact me or any of them for any reason. I went up to my room and started packing. "All those band shirts...." I thought. There was no way i would fit all of them in my duffel bag. I just took my all-time favourites. The 1975, Halsey (ironic i know), Arctic monkeys, Marina and the diamonds, taylor swift, the strokes, G-easy, and finally, The Neighbourhood. I grabbed my big pile of skinny jeans and urban outfitters jewellery, a couple of my cds from my collection, and any sort of actually valuable merch i had. I ran down the stairs, i tripped, and started rolling down the stairs, when i felt a pair of arms catch me. "Woah there!" Matty said, and gave me a side smile. (this just took 10 years off my lifespan). I smiled shyly. "Im so clumsy." I complains. "Me too" Says Matty and gives me a wink. I blush. "Shall we go?" Says Ross. "Of course." I reply. "Dont you want to say goodbye to your mother?" He asks. "Shes not my mother, and no, not really." I say and give her a sneaky look and smile. She looked furious. i didnt care. i was way past that now that i discovered that my all time favourite people loved me too, nothing mattered anymore.

And thats how my story with the 1975 started...

Ending thoughts: i swaer to god this thing just took 20 years off my lifespan i have never physically cringed so hard while doing something. Some parts took me like half an hour to finish because i couldnt bring myself to actually write what i had in my mind. but hope i made lots of people cringe. Anyways, lots of love, gooooooodbyeeeee.