#and now I need a coffee break and to take a drag on my cigarette of self-negation

[subzeroparade]

Chapters: 12/12 COMPLETE (part 1 of 2) Fandom: Elden Ring (Shadow of the Erdtree spoilers) Characters: Messmer, Melina, Queen Marika Additional Tags: Messmer and Melina are twins and Marika is going at it single-mom style,  featuring assorted Shadow Realm NPC cameos (Black Knight Huw, Count Ymir, Inquisitor Jori, Rellana, Messmer’s assorted knights); the usual greek tragedy family dynamics, a frankly disproportionate amount of worldbuilding, Hornsent culture pre-crusade (is theocratic apartheid), some shipping as set dressing though not until later chapters

Summary:

Those who have never birthed something from a forge think all fires burn the same. Messmer and Melina know better.

*

Updated every week

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[that-irrelevant-ricecakeaddict]

"She's a regular here..."

Drug Dealer!Seonghwa x f!reader

CW: mentions of drug dealing/usage (seonghwa smokes), drug dealers!seonghwa and hongjoong, slight fluff, !!SMUT!! (unprotected sex, pls stay safe!!!), reader n seonghwa are dating, seonghwa fucks reader in his fur coat lol , not really proofread?? Idk I tried

My first time trying to write a proper smut scene 😭😭 I hope its okay omg. Wrote this cuz @/ygswl on instagram (best ateez editor btw) brought up the concept of drug dealer! Seonghwa ARGHHHH. I wanted to write a more intense, concept-heavy smut scene but I js tried my best since I'm not familar with smut writing💔💔

Edit: Part 2 is out!!!

Part 3 is out!!!

"Fuck..." Seonghwa groaned, breathing out a puff of wispy smoke. He leaned his head back against the couch as he clocked in the sight of jumbled notes on his mahogany wood coffee table. Orders from customers. Usually, he would've been able to keep up with them, no problem. But there had recently been a huge surge of calls, requesting for the new, trending drug: ARRIBA. And as part of the most reputable dealers in the area, MATZ, he was well-expected to have the best supply. He irritably grinded his teeth together, pre-installed Grillz provided a light, screeching noise.

Taking another drag from his rolled cigarette, his ears perked up at the sound of the door opening. "Hwa, what are you doing?" Seonghwa's business partner, Kim Hongjoong, walked into the shabby makeshift office. Seonghwa didn't reply, merely staring blankly at the ceiling as he absentmindedly played with the blunt in his fingers. Meanwhile, Hongjoong's eyes lingered on the stack of order forms, and he gave a stern look to his tattooed counterpart. "I asked you a question, Park Seonghwa." "What? I'm fucking exhausted from taking calls and names. I've been at it since 11, give me a break." He jerked his head towards a wall clock behind him. A quarter past 3pm.

It had always been this way with the duo. Ever since they started their underground business as barely legal adults, Hongjoong dealt with supplies, and Seonghwa would deal with the customers and their orders. 2 young men in struggling financial situations, who were desperate to make ends meet, starting a drug-dealing business together, it worked out strangely well. This also, despite their constant bickering, formed a strong bond between the two.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes at the response. "Whatever, sure." He tilted his head, eyes settling on the faux fur coat that rested on a chair beside the couch. "Is that new?" "Yeah... I picked it up after getting the payment for that huge order earlier this week." "Ohh, the order for that college frat party?" Seonghwa nodded silently in response, his eyes beginning to glaze over. "Anyways, Yunho says we can expect restock within the next week. ARRIBA's selling out fast, but we can finish these orders right away once the new shipment arrives." Hongjoong rattled off an imaginary list, giving a reassuring pat on the shoulder to his partner. Seonghwa was unresponsive, clearly stressed out from the recent increase in workload, but Hongjoong knew he was listening. Although, that didn't stop him from doing what he was about to do. "You shouldn't keep using this, by the way. It's reaaaally bad for you." With that, he leaned forward and snatched the smoking blunt from his partner's fingers.

Seonghwa hastily whipped his head around, sighing internally at Hongjoong's classic shit-eating grin. He furrowed his eyebrows at the realisation that he had given the man the satisfaction of getting a reaction. "I'm stressed, man. Gotta relax somehow." "I don't think you'll need your weed when your favourite 'regular' is here, though." Hongjoong tilted his head towards the office door, calling out in a singsong voice. "Y/N, you can come in now~"

The mention of your name caused Seonghwa's eyes to immediately light up. He scrambled to snatch the cigarette back from Hongjoong, and quickly crushed it with his heel.

Just a quiet, veterinary student that he had met in a cafe 3 years ago, Seonghwa had adored you from the very beginning. You were the cashier taking his order, nervous on your first day, and fumbling a little with the cash register's buttons. Seonghwa had found your clumsy nature both alluring and endearing, and he had asked you out on a date right away. The two of you had hit it off, and a beautiful relationship bloomed from then on. Even when you found out Seonghwa's line of work, you understood his situation and never judged him for it. It didn't make you love him any less. He would often spoil you with gifts and spend as much time as possible with you. Your college classes and his odd working hours would clash often, but you still found time to drop by his office to visit him. After all, it was quite easy to locate your drug dealer boyfriend. He mostly stayed in his office, only occasionally going out with Hongjoong when they had a large shipment coming in or a customer that wanted to deal in-person. Thus the nickname that Hongjoong gave to you: Seonghwa's Favourite 'Regular'. Despite your support for his business, Seonghwa still hated doing or dealing drugs around you, especially cigarettes. It was part of his line of work, and he was used to it, but he would always quickly put out a blunt or stash away powdery white packets when you visited.

"Seonghwa~ I'm here to visit you! My class today was cancelled, so my afternoon is free," you hummed as you walked into the room in your red checkered pants and (Seonghwa's) oversized hoodie. You offered a smile to Hongjoong, who was already on his way out to give you two some privacy. He winked at Seonghwa just before he walked out the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

Seonghwa's gaze softened as you crashed onto his form on the couch, snuggling into his exposed collarbone. "I missed you..." "I missed you too, sweetheart... you've been so busy with classes lately, I haven't seen you for a full week. Do you even love me anymore?" He sighed dramatically, earning a muffled laugh from you. "My finals are coming up, Hwa. Been rushing my deadlines and finishing up on revision. I gotta do this to earn my veterinary certification, hm?" "Well, anytime you wanna quit your course and live with me 24/7, I'll take care of you. Nothing would make me happier to, actually. MATZ has been doing so well recently." He puffed up his chest. You found it cute whenever he was protective like this. "Okay, Hwa. I'll keep you posted." The two of you settled into comfortable silence.

The quietness and stillness in the air suddenly made him very aware of your movements. He raised his eyebrows when he realised you were being touchier than usual. Your hands were roaming his shoulders, tracing circles over his neck tattoo and gold chains that sat above his unbuttoned collar. The occasional shift of your hips didn't go unnoticed by the tattooed man, either. Seonghwa experimentally slid a veiny hand under your hoodie, blushing when he felt your bare back, marking the absence of a bra strap.

"Sweetheart, are you-"

"Mhm... needy for you, Hwa."

"Oh-- we're in my office now, though, Hongjoong could hear us..."

"Wouldn't you like that?"

Seonghwa's face heated up at the thought of his partner overhearing the two of you. The possibility someone else, especially his best friend/business partner, hearing the two of you fucking in his office turned him on. A lot.

His shy expression quickly changed to a dominant, cockier one. Quickly pinning you onto the couch, he connected his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. He tasted like smoke and the cherry lip gloss you had bought him a month ago, and you loved it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, effectively hoisting yourself up, before pulling away from his lips to kiss and lick at the tattoo scrawled across his neck. Seonghwa groaned at the feeling, his eyes glazing over and landing on his fluffy, new fur coat that was draped on the nearby chair. A devious idea popped into his head.

"Sweetheart, wait... I wanna do something." You stopped sucking at the 'A' on his neck and tilted your head curiously at him. He tugged at the hem of your hoodie, his eye contact with you searching for consent. You let him, of course. You trusted him. He lifted off your hoodie right away, sucking in a breath at the sight of your bare torso. "My pretty girl," he sighed, making you flush a bright red hue. Seonghwa leaned forward to leave a kiss on your breasts and gestured you to take off your pants, before getting off the couch, seemingly to get something. You sat confused, naked except for your dark blue panties, until you saw him grab the fur coat on the chair beside the couch.

The faux fur brushed against your skin as Seonghwa helped you put it on. It was huge, heavy and fluffy, covering everything yet nothing on your bare figure. He stepped back to take you in, a guttural moan leaving his throat at the sight of you naked form practically drowning underneath the fluffy mass of fabric. You, on the other hand, were aching for his touch. A whole week of being apart from your lover, deprived of his love, his intimacy, deprived of him. He noticed your pouty lips and squirming, and chuckled teasingly.

"Can't wait, sweetheart?"

You were about to nod in response, but was cut off when you felt a long finger being pressed against your moist folds. A whiny gasp slipped out of your mouth, and your hands scrambled to find support on Seonghwa's strong forearms. He smiled as he lightly rubbed circles on your clit through the thin fabric of your panties, your whines sounding like music to his chain-adorned ears. "Hwa...hurry, I want your dick in me already," you panted out. Seonghwa scoffed teasingly at your impatient tone. "Patience, sweetheart, I need to prep you first."

His expert fingers tugged aside the fabric covering your pussy, exposing yourself to him fully. Two fingers were pushed into your aching hole, causing you to arch your back at the feeling. Breathless moans filled the room as he curled and thrusted his fingers into you at a torturously slow pace. He knew you were sensitive, and it was driving you crazy how slow he was going.

"H-Hwa..."

"Shhh, I know."

The building knot in your tummy snapped, and you came undone on your lover's long fingers. But just as you began to catch your breath, Seonghwa leaned down to lick up your juices. The cold metal of his grillz shot through your core, drawing out a high-pitched cry from you.

Blinking back tears from the overstimulation, you glanced down at your boyfriend. He was sitting comfortably between your legs, lips and grillz teeth shiny with your arousal, mouth spread in a loving grin as if he didn't just finger-fuck you to an orgasm.

He got up and kissed a tear rolling down your cheek. "I'm sorry, baby, I just had to tease you a little. I'll give you what you want now." Seonghwa picked you up and shifted you to a more comfortable spot on the couch, the heavy coat's fur swishing quietly as he did so. You shivered as the fur brushed against your nipples, perky from being exposed to the surrounding air.

There was a light clunk of a belt buckle, followed by a zipping noise, before Seonghwa finally pressed his pretty cock against your bare stomach, earning a sigh of relief from you. You licked your lips at the sight of his flushed, hard member. "Did you miss me or did you miss my dick?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow when you stared for a little too long. You whined back, and he sighed in defeat before pressing his cock into your entrance, already wet and lubricated from him fingering you open earlier.

"F-fuck! So warm..." Seonghwa hissed as his cock sank into you. You cried out, reaching out to bury your face into his neck when he started to thrust in and out of you. Sloppy slaps of skin, whiny moans, curses and the occasional swish of faux fur against leather filled the room as Seonghwa fucked you into the couch. The air reeked of hot sex and cigarette smoke, but neither of you minded. He gazed lovingly at you through his lashes, admiring how you looked in his fur coat, with his dick in you. The possessiveness that you two had for each other always made him hard whenever it showed.

He winced when you clenched on him particularly hard. "Oh s-shit- you like my cock? You like your drug dealer boyfriend's cock?" You nodded hastily, drool beginning to form on the side of your lips. Seonghwa smirked, but was barely keeping his composure at the sight of you so cock-drunk. He pulled you in with his free hand for a kiss, heavy metal rings on his fingers squishing your face and making your breath hitch involuntarily. The lingering taste of tobacco on his lips made you moan, eyes glazing over from pleasure as his tongue pushed past your lips to invade your mouth.

It wasn't long before both of you came undone. You sighed breathily as your second orgasm formed a ring of white liquid around Seonghwa's dick, and he quickly pulled out to cum onto your bare stomach. Still panting from his orgasm, he gathered some of his fluids onto his fingers, and stuffed your mouth with them. You hummed appreciatively in response, suckling his fingers clean as he admired your flushed, fucked-out expression.

♡♡♡

"Yah, I was only out for awhile! What did you guys do??" Hongjoong snickered an hour later as he waltzed into the room and over to the couch. He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth when Seonghwa shot a stern look at him, index finger pressed to his lips as if to say "shut the fuck up you big-mouthed minion". His other hand was wrapped around your sleeping figure, still naked but bundled up in his fur coat and shielded from Hongjoong's eyes.

Hongjoong raised his hands, exaggeratingly mouthing a "sorry!" that his best friend scoffed quietly at. Seonghwa rolled his eyes and returned his gaze back to you. His heart warmed at the peaceful look you had in your sleep, but his dick stirred at the sight of you covered by nothing but his oversized fur coat. Needless to say, he was definitely giving you a round 2 once you woke up.

If you've managed to read this far, thank you so much for reading my fanfic! 🙏 I hope you enjoyed it 😭

[zablife]

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ screeching in here now that my coffee has kicked in and I can type sentences again. Very excited that your requests are open again!

Please could I have something based around ‘Are you jealous?’ with Tommy?

Sorry I know you’ll get a million Tommy requests but I’m just a girl 🙈 I am not immune. Ideally the filthier the better 🤭 but just wherever the muse takes you babe! xxx

Thanks for the request, Alex! I've combined your ask for smut with another lovely anon's request for a Cillian character w/ breeding kink. I hope this is ok! (Slight warning for hints of dark, possessive Tommy, but not to worry bc it turns to fluff at the end.)

All Mine 🔞

Tommy x gf reader

Tommy's nails dug into your forearm as he dragged you away from the party you were hosting. "Where are we going?" you whispered, stumbling slightly to keep pace with his strides. Taking one last glance over your shoulder, you flashed an apologetic smile to your guests, realizing they were as confused as you were.

Once out of earshot, Tommy's composure shattered, rage melting his icy blue eyes. "Why didn't you tell me you'd fucked my new business partner?" he seethed.

You shook free of his hold with an indignant look. "Jesus, Tommy! That was five years ago!" You rolled your eyes as he began pacing the long corridor. In his haste to leave the table, he'd forgotten his cigarette case and without the distraction, his agitation grew.

Throwing your hands up, you exclaimed, "Yes, I have a past! But I didn't think someone like you would hold that against me."

He stalked toward you, narrowing his eyes as he came close enough for you to smell the whisky on his breath. "But I do, especially when you spend half the fucking night whispering in his ear!"

You gathered your long skirt over your arm in preparation to leave, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Every conversation you'd had that evening was in promotion of Shelby Company Limited. Frankly, you were fed up with all the business talk and ready to scream at him for his ungrateful attitude. However something stirred inside when you glimpsed the tortured look in his eye. Your shoulders relaxed, backing down from the fight when you realized he was nothing more than a hurt little boy lashing out.

"Are you jealous?" you asked incredulously, an irrepressible giggle bubbling up from your chest at the idea of him pouting like a child.

"You're the one making a fool of yourself," he grumbled, not in the mood for teasing.

Caressing his face with your hand, you attempted to bring back the confident man you knew. In these moments he needed you to quiet his inner voice of inadequacy. "Where do you get these ridiculous notions and when will you give them up?" you scolded with a peck to his lips. You only intended a brief moment of affection before returning to your guests, but Tommy had other ideas.

Leaning down to hook a strong arm beneath your knees, he lifted you off the ground. Yelping in surprise, you threw your arms around his neck to brace yourself. You couldn't be sure, but you thought you detected a hint of a smirk tug at Tommy's lips as he carried you toward the staircase and away from the noise of the first floor.

Alone in the quiet of the bedroom, Tommy's intentions were clear. Hands roving your body, he hitched up your skirt, squeezing the flesh of your ass appreciatively. His body pressed into yours insistently, slamming your back against the vanity mirror with enough force to break it.

"Tommy, slow down," you begged, unable to keep up with his feverish kisses. However, his ministrations did not stop, his large hand encircling your throat possessively as the other dipped between your legs. He unexpectedly forced your underwear aside to push two fingers into your sopping heat.

"Is this for him or me?" he demanded in a low voice, pumping his digits into you the way he knew drove you wild. You could scarcely think as he worked you into a frenzy matching his own, but you knew he expected an answer.

"You...always you, Tom," you huffed out in uneven breaths, gripping his shoulder for support when he began biting and sucking near your collarbone. With that declaration Tommy abruptly stopped, staring into your eyes to determine the truth. Finding them glossy with unshed tears and feeling the flutter of your desire around his fingers, he was satisfied you were being honest with him. He rewarded you by hooking his fingers against the achingly delicious spot within you that set stars dancing behind your eyelids.

"So perfect," he praised, pressing his forehead to yours. "And loyal?"

"Yes," you whimpered as his thumb grazed your clit, sending sparks shooting through you.

"Then there's one more thing you need to do to prove it," he pronounced, withdrawing his hand and denying your pleasure so as to have your undivided attention. You whined at the sudden loss of stimulation, tears nearly spilling onto your flushed cheeks in protest.

The hand at your throat stroked your delicate skin gently as he fed you his soaked fingers. You sucked wantonly on your own juices while he nuzzled his nose against yours and whispered to you softly. "If you give me a child, there won't be any more doubts."

Your eyes went wide at his request, but he scarcely noticed, rubbing himself against your thigh to show how eager he was to begin. "Take off your dress," he commanded in a low voice.

"Now? We have guests," you reminded him, but he wouldn't hear any arguments.

A growl of frustration rumbled in his chest as he answered, "I don't give a fuck. Take it off now or I'll do it for you."

Apparently you didn't make your decision quickly enough because you heard the snag of fabric before catching the rapid motion of his hands out of the corner of your eye. Within moments the slit at your thigh was torn to your waist, exposing your lower half and sending shivers through your entire body.

With a harsh gulp, you removed the damaged garments as Tommy watched with lust filled eyes, stroking himself before you shamelessly. "That's better," he hummed in satisfaction, palming the globe of your breast. You nodded, biting your lip. You'd learned long ago you were powerless against Tommy's will, his desires becoming your own.

"Have to show that bastard who you belong to," he said through gritted teeth as he pushed you onto the mattress. You could only nod in agreement as he entered you swiftly, setting a brutal pace from the start. It was unlike anything you'd experienced before with Tommy rutting into you with reckless abandon. His hips slammed into yours with punishing force, fingers at your hips wrapped tightly enough to leave crescent shaped bruises.

Your cries soon echoed through the room and he did nothing to quiet you. In fact he spurred you on, demanding to hear how much you wanted his seed. You had no trouble complying, cries falling from your lips with each deep stroke. "Please, Tommy," you pleaded in a high pitched whine you barely recognized as your own, needing his comforting warmth within you instead of spurting across your chest or stomach.

The sight of you with half lidded eyes, begging for his cum was all Tommy needed to tumble over the edge. Quickly losing rhythm, he clutched your waist mumbling, "Going to fill you up." Suddenly his hips stuttered to a halt as he seated himself deep within you. You moaned at the intoxicating feeling of rope after rope of hot cum coating your insides, his release triggering your own. While you rubbed your clit to prolong the waves of pleasure, you heard Tommy moan at the way your cunt continued to milk him. "Such a good girl, taking every last drop," he praised.

He took a moment to admire you, watching your ample chest heaving and plump lips parted in ecstasy. He'd never felt so satisfied, but he soon collapsed upon you in contented exhaustion.

The enormity of what you'd just done came rushing toward you, but you were calmed by the weight of his body holding you down. Running your fingertips through the soft, shorn sides of his hair you mused, "Tommy, what is it you really want?" You could still feel the way his heart beat against his ribcage, transferring vibration through your body. It felt as though you could share anything with each other in this moment, while you were still joined as one.

He raised his face from the crook of your neck to place a tender kiss to your lips. "You," he stated simply. Running a hand down your body to rest over your stomach, he added, "Can you blame me? You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. Of course I want you to have my children."

You beamed at him, heart swelling with pride at his admission. He wasn't normally so effusive. Leaning in to kiss him, he withdrew from you and you let out a whimper at the aching emptiness. As sticky white rivulets of his spend ran down your inner thighs, Tommy scooped it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you.

You sighed contentedly as he placed a kiss to your temple, aftershocks from your orgasm causing you to clench onto his fingers, drawing his cum further inside you. "Good girl, keep it in," he instructed, peppering your face with kisses as you grew sleepy.

However, one thought lingered in the back of your mind. "How could you have thought I wanted anyone else? You know I'm all yours," you declared, hoping to dispel any lingering worry he might have. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt Tommy's cock stir against your thigh.

Removing his fingers from you, he replaced them with his cock and began slow, gentle thrusts against your opening until he was hard enough to bury himself into you once more. He groaned at the sight of your tightness split around him, looking as though you were made just for him. Leaning down to cradle your neck and shoulders under his arms, he held you close. Hot breath fanning over your ear, he murmured, "When I see your beautiful body swollen with my child, then I'll know you're all mine."

A needy cry escaped your throat as his cock dragged against your oversensitive walls, your nails clawing at his back to urge him back inside. "S'alright," he hushed, "I'm going to keep you full," he promised with a snap of his hips. You wrapped your legs around him, heels eagerly pressing into his back to accept everything he could give.

------------

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[drewizz]

THIRD TIME - 03. fortuitous

pairing ꕀ rafe cameron x reader

WARNINGS. none. (but the tension thickens increasingly fast)

WC. 1.8K

TAGLIST. open! comment or send in an ask

series masterlist. previous next

fortuitous. (adj) happening by a lucky chance; fortunate.

Luck wasn’t necessarily supposed to come in arrogance and trouble. But it seemed to be the case for you in the span of three consecutive days.

This time, it wasn't in the warmth of a coffee shop or the chaos of a party, but it was a pleasantly quiet stretch of the waves. Where one could note the scent of fishy saltwater hanging in the air, and how only the sound of the occasional cry of a seagull could be heard.

It was a late afternoon, and you had been walking along the docks – thoughts heavy as the gray clouds gathering on the horizon. The docks had always been your special place to think. A spot where the world felt a little less inordinate. Peace. Solitude. Tranquility.

And after many days being alone here at the docks, you didn’t expect anyone to be there before you. At least least not him.

But there he was. Rafe Cameron, sitting on the edge of one of the docks like he had all the time in the world. His legs dangled over the edge, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, and his gaze fixed on the water as if he were waiting for something – or more specifically, someone.

Your first instinct was to turn around (like last time) and leave before he noticed you. But the creak of the dock beneath your feet betrayed you, and his head turned, those sharp blue eyes locking onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you two was thick with tension, unspoken words hovering like a raging storm waiting to break.

Breaking the silence, he spoke first. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite mystery girl,” Rafe remarked, his voice laced with that infuriating note of charm.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Do you plan to appear every part of this town this entire week, or are you just trying to follow me?”

He smirked, flicking ash from his cigarette into the water. “Neither. I'd like to rather think of it as fate.”

“Fate? You think you’re poetic now?”

“Maybe,” he said, his smirk widening. “You’d be surprised what I’m capable of.”

“Surprise me then,” you challenged, eyes narrowing at him.

Rafe’s expression shifted slightly, the teasing edge softening as he studied you. “Never mind that, what are you doing here?”

Your brow furrowed. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked first,” he said, leaning back on his hands, looking completely at ease.

You hesitated, taking a seat carefully next to him. “I just like coming here time to time. I like having my own time to think about stuff. The bits of silence here eases me.”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Then he nodded, as if your answer satisfied him enough.

“What about you?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

He shrugged, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “Needed some air. Couldn’t stand being around people for a while.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “You? Needing space from people? That’s hard to believe.”

“Don’t act like you know me,” he said, his voice carrying a sudden edge.

“I don’t,” you admitted, tone getting softer. “But you make it pretty easy to assume.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and for a wild moment, you thought you’d pushed too far. But then he let out a breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “You said that last time, but fair enough.”

Silence. It started to lightly drizzle, the droplets cold against your body. You shivered but stayed where you were, the thought of walking away feeling strangely wrong.

“So when you said you like to come here and think,” he said, breaking the silence. “I'm guessing that means you like to think about how you think you're better than everyone else.”

Your head snapped toward him, eyes beadily staring at him. “Excuse me?”

Rafe smirked, but there was something darker behind it. “You’ve got that look on you. Thinking as if you’re too good for this place, all snotty and haughty.”

You laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “That’s rich coming from you. Having no worries about life, money, and other shit. Looking down at everyone else.”

The smirk faltered, just for a second. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t?” you pressed, being unable to stop. “Life's easy because you have the money. You have lots of friends. You think the world owes you something just because your daddy’s loaded.”

He stared at you, his jaw tight, and for a moment you thought he was going to fire back. But instead, he let out a short, bitter laugh.

“You think it’s that simple?” he said, his voice quieter now, almost bitter.

You frowned, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. “What are you talking about?”

Rafe stood, brushing his hands on his jeans as he turned to face you fully. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you? The spoiled rich kid who’s never had a real problem in his life.”

“Well, am I wrong?” you challenged, though your voice had lost some of its heat.

He shook his head, a forced smile tugging at his lips. “You have no idea.”

For the first time, you noticed the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders seemed to carry more weight than they should. Though it didn’t excuse his behavior (certainly not), it certainly made you pause.

“Then?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “I wanna know. Tell me about it.”

Rafe hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the water. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost like he didn’t want you to hear.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to live up to someone else’s expectations? To know that no matter what you do, it’s never going to be enough? And you always have to do something fucking reckless to get someone's attention?”

Your breath caught, the rawness in his voice catching you off guard. You didn’t know what to say, so you said nothing, letting the silence stretch between you two.

“Didn’t think so,” he said finally, his tone sharpening again as he turned away.

“Wait,” you said before you could stop yourself.

Rafe paused, glancing back at you.

“I didn’t know.” You hesitated, unsure of what to add. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, the motion almost dismissive. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” you said, surprising yourself with how much you meant it.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching yours like he was trying to figure out if you were messing with him. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he let out a long breath and sat back down next to you.

“You know,” he said after a long pause, “you’re not as tough as you pretend to be.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he said, leaning back on his hands, “you act like you’ve got it all together in life, but I don’t buy it. And it’s obvious you don’t.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat. Because he wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong at all.

“What’s your point?” you asked instead, your voice was much more defensive than you intended.

Rafe shrugged. “No point. Just saying it takes one to know one.”

Silence fell again, the rain now falling hard, soaking through their clothes.

“I come here to breathe,” you admitted over the long stretch of silence. "Not just to think."

Rafe glanced at you, his expression softer now. “Breathe?”

You hesitated. “Sometimes it just feels like the world’s too loud for me. It expects too much out of me, and I can’t give what it’s asking for. And if I don’t get away once in a while, it’s going to swallow me as a whole.”

For the first time, he didn’t have a quick reply. Instead, he nodded, as if he understood exactly what you meant.

“I get that,” he said finally.

You turned to look at him, your curiosity growing. “You do?”

His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. I do.”

The honesty in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

“To be honest, I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

“Maybe,” he said, his tone lighter now, “you’re starting to like me.”

You laughed, the sound genuine despite yourself. “Don’t push your luck.”

He smirked but didn’t press, and you two sat there in companionable silence. The sounds of the drizzling rain washing away some of the tension between you two.

The wind started to pick up even more. You glanced at the clouds, then back at Rafe. “You should probably head inside now. It’s going to pour soon.”

He smiled, a lazy, lopsided grin that sent an unwelcome warmth through your chest. “Is mystery girl seriously getting worried about me?”

“Not even a little,” you uttered, though the corner of your mouth betrayed a slight twitch of amusement.

Silence fell over again, the kind that wasn’t quite comfortable but wasn’t entirely hostile either. It was strange, being here with him like this. It’d been only three consecutive days where you had short conversations with him, yet now you were here having a conversation you could barely get out to anyone.

The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, and you glanced at the sky again. “Seriously, you should go.”

“And leave you out here alone?” he asked, feigning mock concern. “What kind of gentleman would I be?”

“You? A gentleman?” you scoffed. “That’s a wild stretch.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “But I’m working on it.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed silent, letting the silence stretch once again. This was okay. Silence and peace.

Rain started heavily pouring, the droplets cold against your clothes. You shivered, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“You’re really going to stay out here?” Rafe asked, standing and flicking the stub of his cigarette into the water.

“I’m fine,” you said, though your voice betrayed you.

He shook his head, pulling off his jacket and holding it out to you.

“I don’t need it,” you said, your pride flaring (but failing).

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you accepted the jacket, the fabric warm and surprisingly soft. “Thanks,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

Without a reply, he gave you a curt nod.

For a moment, you two were just there - under the rain, the tension between them shifting into something quieter, something neither of them could name.

“You know,” you started off, carefully standing up. “My house is nearby, you can dry off until the storm subsides.”

Rafe glanced down at your face with a teasing grin. “Inviting me to your house already? I don’t even know your name, mystery girl.”

With a quiet mumble you answered. “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N. Well now I won’t have to call you mystery girl,” he chuckled.

Rolling your eyes, you asked in a more casual tone. “You coming?”

Rafe nodded with a smirk, following you.

As you two walked (quite quickly), your steps were falling into an unspoken rhythm. You realized something strange.

For the first time, being around Rafe didn’t feel like a battle. It felt like something else entirely.

And that terrified you.

NOTES. we finally get to see some rafeyn development 😊😊😊😊 THANKYOU for all the love and support omg. it hasn't even been a week and i've been already getting so many love for this series :') so excited to write the most false hope giving chapters ever..!

TAGS. @urbrunettebombshell @rafesfavouritegirl @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account

[tightjeansjavi]

knead

A/N: so after rewatching Narcos all weekend and staring at the screen with big ole heart eyes for the infamous Javier Peña, I decided that he, like Joel, deserves nice things 🤍

~word count: 1.2k~

Summary: Javier Peña desperately needs a fucking break and to be kinder to himself <3

Pairing | Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of guns, cigarettes, implied death(s) due to an unsuccessful raid, established relationship, fluff, hurt and comfort, Javi is incredibly hard on himself, takes place during season 3 of Narcos, both Javi and the reader speak Spanish, reader has no physical descriptions, no age gap, +18 minors dni!

Lo entiendo, hermano. - I understand, brother.

No lo entiendes, hermano. Nadie lo entiende - You don’t understand, brother. No one does.

No tienes que esperarme despierta todas las noches, querida. Tu sueño es importante también, cariño. - You don’t have to wait up for me every night, querida. Your sleep is important too, baby.

Jav, yo quiero asegurarme de que has llegado bien a casa. - Jav, I always want to make sure you’re home safe

Javi, No tienes que disculparte por nada. Por favor, mi amor. - Javi, please don’t apologize for this. Please, my love.

Siempre tan bueno conmigo - Always good to me

Te quiero con todo lo que pueda ofrecerte, cariño - I love you with everything that I have to offer, cariño

Te quiero más a ti, Jav - I love you most, Jav.

When he comes home, he’s still in his olive green tac vest. His hair is strewn about in a sweaty mess across his face. He reeks of gunpowder, stale tobacco, and disappointment. It drips from his pores and lands in a puddle at his shoes, once shiny, now dull, scuffed and speckled in blood. A failed raid. Innocence lost, and disappointment. So much fucking dissapointment that swallows Javier Peña alive.

An anonymous tip leading to more fucking bloodshed. So much for things being done differently this time around.

A hero? Hardly.

Javier doesn’t feel like a hero. Not when all he’s done is failed over, and over again.

We’ll get them next time, Javier.

Will we?

Of course. You know the Cali Cartel like it’s the back of your hand, Peña. We’re this much closer to bringing them to justice.

Justice? He laughs. If there was any justice in this world, I would be in fucking jail right now.

Lo entiendo, hermano.

Javier laughs, voice rasped in bitterness. He swings his keys around on his pointer finger, jaw ticked, muscles aching beneath the sweat stained fabric of his shirt.

No lo entiendes, hermano. Nadie lo entiende. Javier responds coldly and unlocks his car door before climbing into the driver seat.

He thinks hard on his failure the entire drive home. He doesn’t listen to the radio. He sits in silence, puffing away on a stress cigarette even though he swore he was trying to quit.

In the lowlight from the hallway, Javier is able to make out your sleeping mass under the colorful patterned quilt on his couch. He swings the door shut softly behind him and quietly locks it.

His back and shoulders are tense, aching with each step he takes. Another jab and painful reminder of his failure tonight.

Despite Javier’s protests, you always wait for him to return home. He appreciates this more than you realize. It’s his one sense of comfort that he feels he’s undeserving of.

No tienes que esperarme despierta todas las noches, querida. Tu sueño es importante también, corazón.

Jav, yo quiero asegurarme de que has llegado bien a casa.

The worn couch cushions gradually press down from the weight of his body as he slowly sits down in the unoccupied space between your covered feet. He winces when he feels that annoying pinch in his lower back and brings his hands over his face, dragging them down over his alquine nose with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his gun, badge, cigarettes, and lighter. He tosses them onto the coffee table and leans back just as you begin to stir awake from the sound.

“Jav?” You murmur softly and subconsciously reach for him over the blanket.

“Its me, cariño.” He rasps. His hand reaches towards you in the dark, finding you soon after. He laces his fingers through yours.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, sitting up and facing him.

“No. I’m not okay.” He admits.

“What happened?”

He looks over at you through the darkness and shrugs his shoulders. “What didn’t happen.” He clarifies. His thumb skates across the back of your hand gently.

“Do you want to talk about it?..”

“No. I just..I’m tired, querida. I’m tired of failing all the fucking time.” He sounds exhausted. You know just how much his job truly weighs on him.

“Javier, my love, you are not failing all the time. You aren’t. No one thinks that you are a failure, Jav.”

He makes a snuffling sound through his nose that comes across more like a scoff. His movements cease when he feels your freehand grasp his jaw and pull him in close. Even in the dark, your eyes are soft, gentle, and laced with concern.

“Everyone tells me that I’m a hero, cariño. I’m not a hero. I’ve never been a hero.”

“Javi, you don’t have to be a hero. People mean well with their words. I know they do, but you have to try and not let it get to you this much. Okay? Javier, you have one of the toughest jobs out there. No one but yourself is going to understand how you feel. Whatever happened tonight, does not make you a terrible person, or a failure. You’re doing everything you can to take down the Cali Cartel.” You reassure him.

“I feel like I have to be the hero. Javier Peña, the dashing DEA agent that took down Pablo Escobar.” He laughed. “Cariño, I was told that this time things would be different, but they were wrong. Everytime I try to ensure that innocent lives won’t be lost, someone gets caught in a crossfire. A civilian. A child. An unsuspecting bystander. It weighs on me. It fucking weighs on me more than I’m willing to admit.” He said in an exasperated tone.

You saw the tears begin to brew along his waterline before he even realized he was crying. You detected the strain in his voice, and sprung into action. Your hand dropped from his face only to then pull him into a hug with your hand gently cradling the back of his head and your fingers slipping through his hair, nails scratching his scalp gently in hopes to soothe him.

His arms instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap so he could be closer to you. His warm palms slid under the thin fabric of your shirt along your lower back and he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He sniffled. “I don’t want you to see me like this, cariño.”

“Javi, No tienes que disculparte por nada. Por favor, mi amor.”

“You’re so good to me.” He kisses the exposed skin on your neck, the tips of his mustache tickles you as you hug him tightly, rubbing your hands up and down his back and shoulders in a soothing motion.

“And you’re good to me, Javier. Siempre tan bueno conmigo.”

He nuzzles you affectionately, wishing he could crawl inside of you and live there forever. “Cariño, can you do something for me?” He asks softly, dragging his lips across your skin once more.

“Anything, Jav.”

“My back and shoulders are fucking killing me. Can you—” you cut him off before he even has a chance to finish his sentence.

“Of course I can.”

He breathes a sigh of relief through his nose “Gracias, cariño”

He slowly drops his arms from around your waist so he can remove his shirt. He undos each button with meticulous precision and slowly slides the fabric down from his forearms. He lays his shirt along the side of the couch while you slide into the space behind him, with your thighs wrapping around his torso. He leans back into your touch, lashes fluttering shut when your hands work their way up from his lower back, kneading the tender strained muscles there.

You work your way upwards and pay close attention to the areas where he’s feeling the most pain. He murmurs praises in both Spanish and English under his breath when you slowly and delicately work through a particular nasty knot between his shoulder blades.

Your gentle, yet firm touch sends the DEA agent into a state of bliss, and he’s putty in your hands in no time.

Your chin comes to rest along the crook of his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss along his jawline. He hums and tilts his head to the side, finding your lips in a gentle kiss. A thank you. An I love you, and an I appreciate you can be tasted through the kiss. He rests his hands along your thighs that are wrapped around him, gently kneading the soft flesh with his strong, yet gentle hands.

“Te quiero con todo lo que pueda ofrecerte, cariño”

You smile against his lips, kissing him deeper while your fingers gently brush through the wispy tendrils of hair along his forehead.

“Te quiero yo más, Jav.”

Banners made by the lovely @saradika 🤍

I no longer have a taglist so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i only wanna worship you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Seven

Chapter Summary | When a promising lead for your story turns to dust, you find comfort in the only person you know can make you feel better these days.

Chapter Warnings | mentions and discussions of drugs, drug consumption and the drug trade, swearing, flirting, explicit smut, oral sex (f), protected piv sex but nothing else.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Authors Note | GUYS I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Thank you so much for being so patient - my new job and the festive period kicked my ass, but we're back, and it's the one you've all been waiting for! I'm having so much fun weaving in the story along with these guys' relationship, and I hope it was worth the wait for you. If you're enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You’ve been sat in the parking lot for what feels like ages. Turning up at the office that morning, you’d stared blankly at the article you’d written, listening to your managers voice in your head telling you that you could go and get your story, swirling the dregs of your coffee in your mug. It was almost like a switch had flicked in your brain and before your head could catch up with you, you were stuffing your supplies into your bag and swiping your car keys off the desk.

Now, your car is surrounded by others in the parking lot of Laredo’s biggest factory - one of the towns biggest employers of people who hadn’t gotten sick of it and left for college and never come back - waiting for Tyler Johnson to appear out of the front doors for his lunch break.

You watch the clock on your dashboard, counting exactly seventeen further minutes until his tall, lanky frame comes through the door. He’s fishing in his jeans pocket, pulling out a cigarette. He leans up against a brick wall just down from the front door, lighting the cigarette and taking a long drag. It’s now or never.

You get out of your car, deciding against taking your notepad and pen, you don’t want to spook him before you’ve had a chance to talk. You can feel the familiar nervous bubble in your stomach, something that hasn’t gone away when you blindly go up to someone to interrogate them.

“Tyler?”

He turns his head towards your voice as you come to a stop a few steps away from him.

“Depends who’s asking,” He looks you up and down, “But for you honey, sure thing,” He puts the cigarette into his mouth, reaches his hand out for you to shake which you do, “What can I help with?”

You take a deep breath, the speech you’d rehearsed in the car suddenly blanked from your mind as you try and figure out how to explain to him why you’re here.

“This is so strange, but can you remember hosting a party a few months ago?” You ask, “It was in town?”

You watch him think for a second, taking another drag on his cigarette, “Yeah I think so, was pretty wild if I remember, were you there?”

You reply with a nod, “Yeah, with my friend Liv,” You sigh, “Listen, I’m not trying to pry or anything, but you know that place was raided a few days ago, right?”

“Whole place knows it was raided,” He shrugs, “Been the talk of the town.”

“Right,” You’re thinking, how can you catch him in the act? “So, why were you hosting a party in a house that was empty, that was then raided for drugs?”

“Family own it,” He shrugs again, “Guy who rented it died and it needed doing up before we could get someone else in, so seemed like the best place to do it.”

“And the drugs?” You push.

“Listen, lady,” His tone sharpens but he doesn’t move towards you, you don’t feel threatened, “I haven’t got a clue as to why there were drugs there, okay? I haven’t been there since the party.”

“So you have no idea how they got there?”

“Not the faintest.”

“So it wasn’t you?”

“What the hell is this, twenty fucking questions?” He sighs again, flicks his finished cigarette to the ground, stamping on it with his boot, “I don’t know anything about the drugs, I’ve never taken drugs, I can’t even if I wanted to, we get tested here for them.”

“When was the last time you got tested?” You ask, eyebrows raised.

Tyler snorts at you, “You and everyone else in this fucking town are so predictable,” He shakes his head, “Just because I’m not a golden boy like my brother means I take drugs?” You’re about to open your mouth to reply when he started talking again, “I got tested about three weeks ago, and then probably six weeks before that too, clean as a whistle, always have been.”

“Do you have the test results?”

“You think I’m gonna show my drug test results to a random girl?”

You nod your head because it his trepidation makes sense, “I’m a journalist,” You finally let on, “I wrote a story about the drug bust but figured there was probably more to it than first meets the eye so I’m just digging around a little,” You shrug, “If you show me, it puts you in the clear though, means people’ll stop talking about you.”

Tyler rolls his eyes but starts walking towards a car. You follow behind him, waiting as he unlocks it and looks through the glove compartment, pulling out a couple of pieces of paper. He hands them to you, which you look through and just like he said, there are the result of his last three random drug tests, everything negative. Fuck. You try not to let your disappointment show as you hand them back.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of what’s going on here.”

“S’alright,” Tyler responds, putting everything back in order to lock his car back up, “I know how it is, but just…” He trails off, “Be careful, okay? I don’t know what’s happening either but this could be dangerous.”

“I’m a big girl,” You counter, “I’ll be fine,” You take a few steps back, “Sorry for bothering you though, I hope the rest of your day is alright.”

There is a part of you that would love nothing more than to roll over, push your face into your pillow and scream. When did having meltdowns like that become frowned upon? You’re sure when you were little they were cathartic, but what use was that at three years old? You needed to be able to scream at this age.

Instead, you lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, frustrated that the one lead you had turned out to be a dead fucking end. Were you wrong about this whole thing the entire time? Were you barking up the wrong tree? Did you just need to cut your losses and publish the story as is, without needing to dig around further? You had no fucking clue.

Before you can think about what you’re doing, you reach over, pluck the phone off your nightstand and press the redial button. You don’t even need to tap in his number anymore, he’s the only number you really call these days. The phone rings three times before he picks up.

“Hello?”

“Javi?” You ask, although you don’t need to, you’d recognise that voice anywhere.

“You alright, cariño?” There is just a sigh that you let out in response, then his voice is back in your ear, “I’ve had enough bad days in my time to know that sigh, what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Is your response, you know you can’t tell him what’s really up because you know the deeper you dig into this, the more dangerous it’s going to get, “Just work stress.”

He’s silent for a moment, “What can I do? I can listen.”

“Can you come over?”

Even over the phone, you can hear him thinking it’s a bad idea. You can hear him thinking about how weird it will look if your parents find him in the house with you on your own, how you’d explain it, even if they didn’t necessarily catch you doing anything.

“They’re out at the moment,” You offer, “Dinner with some people on the force, and I won’t make you stay long, I promise.”

You can hear him do that thing he always does when he’s thinking - clicking his tongue against his teeth. He’s done it for as long as you can remember - a real tell that he’s battling with something in his head.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” You hasten to add, “We can just talk like this if you’d rather.”

“Need someone to make you feel better, huh?” His tone is lower now and it makes you squirm, all you can reply with is a small mmhmm sound, “I’ll be there soon.”

Then all you can hear is the dial tone. You lie there for a moment, listening to the sound through the phone, then glance around your room and panic. You slam the handset back onto the receiver and hop out of bed, dragging the sheets up to make the bed properly, aimlessly throwing abandoned clothes into the laundry basket, shoving half-read books back onto their shelves and generally tidying up enough so as to not look like a total slob.

Once you’re sure there’s nothing on display that you wouldn’t want Javi to see, you pace around the living room, drawing the curtains a little whenever you can see headlights bleeding through, until one set of those headlights are Javi’s truck. He pulls into the drive and sits there, before he’s reversing back out and driving off. Your heart sinks a little, until you can see his frame walking back up the street. You let the curtains fall back into place and stand by the front door, smoothing your hair and your clothes when he knocks twice. You don’t wait, just tear the door open.

“Waiting for me, huh?” He asks, stepping across the threshold, one hand slipping around your waist, the other letting the door close behind him.

“N-no, I was just by the door when you knocked.” You breath, so close to his mouth.

“That so?” He asks, eyebrow raised, “Someone else looking out the curtains then?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to answer. Instead, he dips his face to yours, lips pressed softly to yours. You can feel the aches and the stress leaving your body as he does, you bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, as Javi’s palm on your lower back presses you into his body fully.

“Y-you wanna m-maybe go upstairs?” You ask, lips still a hairs breadth from his, you don’t want to look at him whilst you ask.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, free hand cupping your cheek to make you look at him.

“I think so, yes.” You breathe.

“Well then, lead the way cariño.”

I don’t deserve this, is all Javi can think as your hand is clutched in his, leading him into your bedroom. He doesn’t deserve the flutter in his stomach when he looks at you, or the way your eyes look at him like he’s the best thing the world has ever offered you, and he certainly doesn’t deserve the opportunity to do what he thinks you’re going to let him do in the next few hours. All of the bad he’s done, veiled as something good, all of the shit he’s fucked up before, the people’s he’s hurt, the people he’s killed, whether at his own hand or as a knock on from his actions, he doesn’t deserve someone as good as you.

You’re stood at the door to your room, back pressed up against it, hands clasped behind your back as he stands in the middle of your room. He knows you’re nervous, you always are around him, and he wishes he could say something, express that he feels exactly the same around you, that you make him nervous too, but he thinks it would sound wrong if he tried to explain it, so he doesn’t, just holds out his hand and beckons you over to him.

The warmth of your hand slipping into his, the way he knows those hands feel when you touch him, the way your lips are soft when you kiss him, all of it makes him a weak man, a man who knows you need someone with less baggage, because he can’t say no to you, he doesn’t want to say no to you.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, manoeuvring the two of you so you’re sitting on the edge of your bed.

He watches as you shake your head, “No, it’s honestly nothing, it’ll be fine.”

“What do you want then?”

You lift your head, flash those beautiful eyes at him and instead of fighting the strength to stay upright, he takes a single step towards you and drops to his knees, settled on the floor with your thighs spread to accommodate him. He puts his hands on your knees, looking up at you, and spreads them a little wider.

“This what you want?” He asks, trailing his hands up to your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress up with his hands as he goes, “Something to take your mind off things for a while?”

“Y-yes,” You gasp when his hands hit the material of your underwear wrapped around your hips, “Yes please.”

Javi hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, watching as you lift yourself off the bed a little so he can pull them down. He’s slow with it, making sure that the hem of your dress keeps you covered as he can. It strikes him now how much he wants this, how much he’s craved the opportunity to get you like this so he can really hear you, really see you for once, without having to worry about getting caught.

“You wanna show me that pretty pussy, hermosa?” He speaks lowly into the skin of your thigh he’s nuzzling at.

He watches from between your thighs as your cheek drops to your shoulder, trying to hide how bashful you’ve become, but it does nothing to help the growing bulge in his jeans. Javi lets his fingers push the hem of your dress up your thighs, pooling at your waist, your legs widening.

Javi thinks he might audibly gasp at the way you’re already glistening for him. He leans forward, puckers his lips and presses a single kiss to your clit. It’s gentle, he revels in the small gasp you suck in, then he’s on your properly, tip of his tongue flicking gently against that little bud. He can feel your hand gripping at his hair already, hips moving in time with his mouth, and he wonders if anyone has ever blessed you like this. He needs to know.

He pulls away, letting his thumb gently replace his mouth, looking up at you, “Anyone ever done this for you?”

You shake your head, “No, but even if they had,” You’re biting at your bottom lip, “I don’t think it would have felt like this.”

He can’t help but smirk as he brings his mouth back to you, suckling your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, listening to you the way you whine for him, the way you start moving your hips in time with the movements of his mouth again. You taste divine, he thinks, as his tongue drops a little lower, drinking up the slick you’re creating for him, dragging it back up to run over your clit again.

“T-that’s so g-good.” He hears you moan.

“Yeah?” He replies, barely pulling off you.

He hears a noise in reply, lets one of his fingers trace up the skin of your thigh until he’s slowly pushing it inside of you, amazed at how easily you let him in just like he had been in the alley. He slips another in, curls them up gently, moves them until you tip your head back and really cry out for him this time. Javi can tell you’re close - he’s made enough women in his life feel good this way to know the signs - the way you’re tightening around his fingers inside you, the way your hips are moving but your thighs are starting to tighten around his shoulders and the way your moans are louder but more breathy, he’s addicted already, he knows it’s bad, but right now he can’t find it in himself to really care.

“J-javi,” You breathe, fingers gripping at his hair, “I’m gonna-”

“Go on, cariño,” He urges, “You can come for me.”

And you do, God alive you do, and it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever been party to. Your cunt goes tight as a fist around his fingers, slick drooling down into his palm, he can feel the way you flutter around them as you say his name over and over again in some sort of fucked up prayer, and he thinks about how it would feel around his cock. Your entire body convulses as he works you gently through the aftershocks with his mouth, fingers slipping from inside you to rest, wet and sticky, on your thigh.

All of a sudden, he can feel you gripping his shoulders, pulling at the material to try and drag him up to you.

“Slow down, baby,” He says, but he moves anyway, pushing you back onto the bed, settling himself between your thighs, “We’ve got all night.”

“Javi, please,” You beg, and he doesn’t think he’s heard anything nicer in his life, “I want you,” Your fingers are fumbling with his jeans, trying to move his belt, “Inside me.”

Javi moves, taking your wrists in his hands, pinning them above your head, letting his hips grind into your own, front of his jeans grinding into the soft wet of your sensitive cunt.

“Do you have anything?” He breathes right into your ear, teeth nipping at the lobe.

“Top drawer.” You say quietly, whining when he pushes himself up onto his knees to reach into the draw.

Javi fumbles around a little until the familiar crinkle of foil hits the tips of his fingers. He pulls it out, places it into his mouth as he works to undo his jeans, pushing them down only far enough to free his aching cock. In an ideal world he’d strip the two of you off, but there’s something about this image of you, laid out on the bed in your sinful little sundress, tits heaving as you breathe, that means he just can’t wait.

He almost cries when you reach up, smooth palm stroking at his cock, so slowly he thinks he might die. Tin foil packet between his teeth, he tears it open, rolls it into his cock like it’s muscle memory. He leans back down, feeling the head of his cock nudging at your aching pussy, gathering your wrists back into his hands to pin you down again.

Javi is looking right into your beautiful eyes now, looking at the very soul of you as he stills. He’s damning the both of you to hell with this. He thinks if he’d been stronger, he could have stopped this - sure your mouth around his cock in the bar had been like silk, and the way you’d let him touch you against the brick wall had him seeing stars, but he knows, once he’s sunk himself deep inside you, he won’t be able to come back from this.

“You sure?” He asks, lips pressing softly to your own.

“Please.”

And it’s all he needed to hear to start slowly sinking into you. He watches closely as your eyes flutter closed, head tipped back, throat exposed to his mouth. He listens as he inches in slowly to your panting breaths and your little moans, until he’s buried fully inside you. His hands are gripping at your wrists tightly as he stays still, your hips wiggling underneath him.

“Hermosa,” He pleads, warns with his tone, “Don’t m-move, please.”

Like the devil himself, you don’t listen, and when he pulls his face from the crook of your neck, you’re smirking, you know exactly what you’re doing.

“Javier,” You use his full name and he swears he feels himself throb inside you, “Fuck me.”

He should have known the whole time that this wasn’t going to be a shining star performance, it’s been too long since he’s felt like this, felt the warmth of someone like this, but he knows this is different, he knows that look in your eye, not quite love, definitely not quite love, but it’s something different to the girls of Colombia. He can’t offer you a lifeline, he can’t offer you money to get yourself out of a country that’s trying to kill you, they needed him for something, and he needed them for something in return. But here, he just needs you, no whistles, no bells, just you.

Pushing himself up a little, letting go of his grip on your wrists, he puts his palms on the backs of your thighs and pushing your legs back, folding you underneath him as he starts moving a little faster, fucking you a little harder, you let out a proper moan into the air of the room and he finds himself smirking.

“That what you needed, baby?” He coos as he fucks you, feeling himself reach the very end of you with each thrust, “Just needed me to fuck whatever was in that pretty head of yours away?”

He can feel you tightening around his length, can feel the sweat sticking his shirt to his back, and that tell-tale tightening he feels when it’s almost time. He wishes he could hold on, wishes he could string this out, make it better for you, but god he needs to feel you again, he needs to feel the way you come around his cock.

“Touch yourself,” His tonne is demanding, but he watches down at you as you smirk, bringing your hand to your pussy, finger circling your clit as his hips start to falter, “Come on baby, one more just for me.”

It happens all of a sudden, the way your body snaps under him, and that feeling he’s been chasing, the feeling of you clenching around him, arching your back into him. He can feel the effect it has on him, just seconds later he’s following you over the edge, stilling inside of you as he finishes, banishing the tiny thought in the back of his head that says he wishes he was filling you up without a barrier between the two of you.

Once he’s caught his breath a little, he pulls out of you, groaning into your skin, listening to you whine at the loss of him. He takes off the condom, ties a knot in the top, wrapping it along with the packet in a tissue to put in the bin. He puts his clothes right, before crawling back onto the bed with you, pulling you into his chest, sighing at the feeling of your arm draped over his stomach, your leg entwined with his own. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did that help?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah,” You reply softly into the material of his shirt, “Thank you.”

“You feel okay?” He’s slightly worried he was too rough, maybe that you didn’t enjoy it, “Was it okay?”

You move your head, looking up at him with sleepy eyes, “Javi, please,” You whisper, “Stop worrying, it was perfect.”

He lies there for a while, wishing he could strip the two of you down, press your warm bodies together and fall asleep like this is all normal and you aren’t younger than him, or the daughter of one of his closest friends.

“I should go,” He muses, “Not that I want to,” He adds quickly, worried you’ll think he wants to make a quick escape, “Just need to leave before any eyes are around to ask questions.”

You move slightly, letting the warmth of your body drag away from his own, “One day we’ll be able to do this properly, I hope.” You say, pushing yourself up on your palm as he rises from the bed.

“I promise the next time I have you like that,” He’s looking at you now, chin held in his hand, “I’m going to strip you down, take my time and fall asleep next to you, I promise.”

He kisses you then, slipping his tongue into your mouth and it takes every inch of his strength to pull away.

“Go on,” You smile at him, “Before my dad comes home and shoots you.”

“He wouldn’t shoot me baby,” He smiles back at you, “He wants me back on the force too much.”

“Before he gives you a black eye then.”

He can’t help but laugh at that, giving you a small salute as he turns to leave, but there’s something niggling at that back of his mind as his hand reaches for the handle of your door, something he needs to ask before he leaves, “If something was bothering you,” He asks, turning back to you, “Or you were getting into something at work, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

He’s looking right at you as you answer, searching for anything that says you’re not telling him the truth, and as you answer, he doesn’t find a reason to doubt you, “Of course I would.”

When he’s gone, twenty minutes later your parents are falling through the door, laughing at each other, too many glasses of God knows what over dinner have made them jolly and you find yourself smirking, biting at your bottom lip in the dark, that the two of them have no idea that Javier Peña left just twenty minutes ago after fucking you better than anyone else ever had.

It’s something that keeps you smiling, even as you fall asleep, eyes closing, any thought of work and dead-end leads forgotten and replaced by dreams of what else that man might be able to show you.

[cherryflavoured7777]

Do you miss me, dear? [h.c]

Summary: Stuck at a graduation party, surrounded by memories of your past relationship and your own loneliness, your night takes an unexpected turn when you find yourself dialing the number of the one person you vowed you wouldn't contact.

Pairing: College!Hazel x College!Fem!Reader 

Contains: smut 18+ only, explicit language, drinking, smoking, mutual pining, slightly toxic reader I think, fingering (r! receiving), oral(r! receiving), break-up/make-up sex, idiots in love, this one gets straight-up MUSHY I’m not gonna lie

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: I just need to say I am deeply obsessed with all of you who interacted with either of my last two fics. reading your comments/ replies seriously makes me SO happy you have no idea. Got me giggling and shit fr! I don’t know why my writing always ends up including partying and drinking but maybe it’s because I just graduated college and am having an existential post-grad crisis. Anyway 💀I hope you enjoy and thank you again for reading!!!

Also, this is inspired by this song by one of my favourite bands:  

“I don’t know what I’m still doing here.” You say out loud to yourself, standing up from the musty green couch you were sitting on. An empty beer bottle falls from the cushion onto the ground, shattering into pieces beside your foot. 

This party sucked. Pushing your way through the crowded, stuffy kitchen, you couldn't shake off the feeling of suffocation. Tipsy couples entangled in each other's arms seemed to be everywhere, a painful reminder of what you once had and lost. The memories of being that annoying person in love at a party flooded back, amplifying the ache of your loneliness.

The thumping music in your ears only made your head pound harder. Desperate for a breath of fresh air, you stumbled toward the door, ignoring the intoxicated laughter and clinking glasses that filled the air. As you stepped outside, the cool night breeze hit your face, offering a momentary rescue from the overwhelming atmosphere inside.

The darkness of the night sky above seemed to swallow you whole, but it felt strangely comforting. Leaning against the porch railing, you closed your eyes, trying to regain your composure. In the silence outside, you could hear distant laughter and the faint sound of music, muffled by the walls of the house.

You settled into a seat around a glass table, next to a guy you recognized from one of your classes. You exchanged a quick nod of acknowledgment before reaching into your purse, retrieving a box of cigarettes. Smoking was not a regular habit for you, but you reserved it for moments like these—after a few drinks and a growing sense of irritation. 

You lit the end of the cigarette, watching it crackle, and took a long drag. As you exhaled the smoke, you tilted your head back, noticing the full moon glowing brightly above.

"Full moon tonight," the boy beside you remarked, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "They say some crazy shit can happen on full moons."

You chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well, that could explain why I'm stuck at this party right now."

He leaned back, studying you intently. 

“I wish I could be an astronaut and get the fuck out of here.” You mused, gaze fixed on the bright glow of the moon. "I only came to this party because she said she would be here." Another drag of the cigarette punctuated your words.

"Who's she?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"My ex," you replied, trying to seem nonchalant. His gaze was fixed on you, "Hazel."

-

Until today, you hadn't spoken to Hazel in over three months, choosing to cut off all contact in an attempt to speed up the process of moving on. You're both surprised that you managed to endure the silence for so long, and disappointed that she hasn't made any effort to reach out, not even once. 

That was until about six hours ago when you were sitting at a coffee shop on campus with your roommate, Brittany, studying for your upcoming statistics exam. 

"Don't look now, but Hazel just walked in," she whispers, her tone hushed, and her eyes widening. "And she's with another girl."

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You were seated with your back to the door, and you watched as they both approached the corner, heading in your direction.

"Brittany!" the blonde girl accompanying Hazel exclaims, leaving the three of you momentarily stunned.

Hazel follows a few steps behind, clearly taken aback by the encounter. She looked annoyingly hot, her disheveled brown hair, baggy white t-shirt and black jeans, adorned with her signature silver chains and rings. It takes all your strength not to stare. 

"Hey, Amanda," Brittany replied, forcing a polite smile. "Hazel."

Hazel offers a nod in greeting to Brittany and then to you. You feel like a middle-schooler again, awkward and unsure of how to act around your crush.

"Did you manage to finish that paper for Professor Sharpe's class?" the girl asked. 

As Brittany carries on the conversation with Amanda, you can feel Hazel's gaze on you, catching her eyes occasionally. 

You never anticipated the aftermath of your breakup with Hazel to be this awkward. All those nights spent tangled up together, where you both believed you could read each other's minds, now reduced to this.

"So, Hazel, are you going to Emma’s graduation party tonight? All of us are going," Brittany chimed in, attempting to steer the conversation away from the obvious tension.

Hazel smiled sheepishly, replying, "Yeah, I’m going."

"Cool," Brittany replied, her smile masking the underlying awkwardness in the air.

A beat of uncomfortable silence hung between you all.

"Will you be there?" Hazel asked breaking the silence, turning toward you, her voice almost hesitant.

"Yeah, I'll be there," you said, mustering a small smile. "Wouldn’t want to miss it."

Hazel smiled, "Cool," she said, her voice soft, "I'll see you there then."

Just as the atmosphere began to ease, Amanda abruptly intervened, her grip firm on Hazel's hand. "Hazel, let’s go, I forgot something in my car," Amanda said, her tone strangely possessive, and she dragged Hazel away before you could utter another word.

-

This breadcrumb of information has led you here. You spent the first fifteen minutes at the party searching for her like a lost puppy. When you couldn't find her, you contemplated leaving but opted to drown your thoughts with tequila shots instead. Now, you're clinging to any scrap of attention you can find, desperately trying to purge her from your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the male voice beside you. "D’you have a light?" he asked, his cigarette aimed in your direction. You stare at him for a moment, deadpan, still frozen in your thoughts from the events that unfolded earlier today. 

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, reaching for your phone. You’re calling her.

-

“You’re soaked,” Hazel says as you climb into the front seat of her car, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance. “Seriously, you’re getting mud all over the floor of my car.” While you were waiting for Hazel to pick you up from the party, It started raining, you thought enduring it outside would be better than being stuffed in that small house full of people you didn't even really know. 

“You lied.” You retort back. 

“What?”

“You said you were coming to the party.” 

“Yeah well, my plans changed. Put your seatbelt on.” As she shifted the car into reverse, she placed her hand on your seat to steady herself. With a quick glance over your shoulder, she backed out of the driveway in one brisk movement.

You attempted to keep your composure, trying not to make it entirely obvious that you were basically drooling over how hot she looked doing that.  

“I can tell that there’s someone else,” You say after a few moments of silence, trying to disguise your jealousy with innocent curiosity. “Come on, tell me,” You finally click your seatbelt into place. “I can take it well.” 

"Oh, I know you can," she replied, shooting you a smug look, trying to divert this conversation from getting too deep right now.

“Hazel.” You groan at her dumb attempt at an innuendo, throwing your head backward and hitting the headrest. “Just be honest. Is it the girl from the coffee shop earlier? Or what about the girl Isabel saw you with last week at the library? Or both? Who am I kidding, there’s probably even more than that.”

“Do you have like, personal spies assigned to watch over me?”

You don’t respond right away, deciding to avoid her questions like she’s avoiding yours. You crank the window open and throw your head out. The spring wind cool on your face. 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

She’s quiet for a moment. 

Look, I know I wasn't where I said I'd be, but I was busy, doing stuff," she replied defensively.

"Yeah," you scoffed, your words tinged with a hint of anger. "I'm sure you were."

You sit the next few minutes in silence, wondering if this whole thing was a bad idea. You couldn't pinpoint why you had called her in the first place. The intensity of seeing her earlier mixed with the disappointment of the lackluster party had left you missing her, even though you weren't entirely sure why.

"So, where am I taking you?" Hazel asked, her gaze shifting from the road to you. Strands of her brown hair were tousled by the wind.

Your buzz had faded, and with it, your initial courage waned. Swallowing hard, you hesitated before speaking. "Can I sleep at yours? Not— not like that," you hurriedly clarified, feeling a sudden need to explain. "It's just that Brittany has her new boyfriend over, and I could go back there, but I don’t really want to."

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” 

After a moment, Hazel hesitantly rested her hand on your thigh, both of you aware of the significance of the touch, even if neither acknowledged it. Her fingers gave a gentle squeeze, the subtle pressure made your tummy flip. Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding lingered, hinting that this night might entail more than just a ride home.

-

Hazel's apartment is full of brown moving boxes, an aching reminder of why you broke up in the first place. 

“Wow, this place is pretty much all packed up.” You say, slowly walking through the place, eventually landing at the doorway into her bedroom. 

She nods in response, her face reflecting a mixture of anticipation and sadness, settling down at the end of her bed.

"So, when do you leave?" The question weighed heavily on your heart as you voiced it. You wished you didn't have to ask these questions, yearning for a time when you were part of her plans, not just a spectator.

“Two weeks. My Aunt is gonna meet me at JFK and help me move into my new place.”

You sighed, feeling brave, "I wish I had the date circled on my calendar, helping you move, or going with you." You say the last part quiet, mostly to yourself.

The conversation lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You walked over to her dresser, where a mirror was propped up, decorated with photos of you two from a photobooth, still clinging to the glass. Your heart swelled with mixed emotions.

Hazel says your name, breaking you from your trance. 

“Come here,” she says. 

You walk over slowly, standing between her legs. Your hands rest on her shoulders and you take a deep breath.

With both of your gazes locked, her hands came up behind your thighs, gently grabbing them and pulling them on either side of her one by one so you’re straddling her. Her hand comes up to brush a piece of hair from your face. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby” Her voice is barely a whisper as she stares up at you, her eyes practically shimmering with your reflection, Her hands settle on your waist, the warmth of her touch sending a pang of guilt through you. This breakup was unlike any you'd experienced before, and the raw emotions lingered, making you hesitate for a moment.

Your hands move up to cradle her face, your thumb dragging on her bottom lip. Still maintaining intense eye contact, you slowly slip your finger into her mouth, watching her with a mix of awe and longing.

The silence as you stare at each other is anything but awkward. It was charged with the weight of shared mourning, each of you navigating the complexity of a relationship's end.

You removed your finger, and in response, she grabbed your head gently, guiding it down towards her face, her eyes locked onto yours. Your lips barely grazed each other, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear your rapid heartbeat. Hazel kissed you slowly at first, the touch of her lips sending a rush through your entire body. It quickly escalated, and there was a certain neediness to the way you both kissed, scared it could be the last time.

"Missed you," She whispered against your lips. Your mouths slid together, tongues pressing and exploring. The intensity of the kiss speaks volumes, like you were making up for lost time. Her lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, lingering kisses, setting your body on fire. 

“Fuck, Hazel.” It was almost embarrassing how quickly you melted beneath her touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” You say, your voice strained, a soft moan escaping your lips. You very much wanted to be doing this, you just thought you should at least try to seem like you had stronger breakup morals than you did. Her hands found the curve of your ass, and you instinctively started to rock your hips slowly back and forth, seeking some much-needed friction. 

"Do you want me to stop? Say the word, and I'll stop, pretty girl," she murmured against your neck, her open-mouthed kisses and gentle suction on your pulse point sending shivers down your spine. You didn't reply with words, but your fingers found her hair, silently urging her to continue. "I need an answer, babygirl," 

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice catching in your throat. "Please, don't stop." Your hips still lazily moving on her. Her mouth was back on yours, deepening the kiss as she guided you both down, her hands roaming over the back of your legs and your ass. She tugged at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of it and leaving you in your black lace bra.  

"So fucking perfect. Missed you so fucking much," she confessed, 

"I missed you too, Haze, every day," you whined, 

"You ever think about me? she asked, breathless. "About this?" she continued 

You nodded, your breath hitching as you confessed, "All the time. Couldn't stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth."

Her eyes darken as you sit up and effortlessly unhook your bra, leaning back down, your lips finding their way to her collarbone, marking a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Your hands slowly creep their way up under her shirt, seeking permission. She nods, a silent affirmation, and you gently peel her shirt off over her head. Your stomach flips as you feel her arms effortlessly turn both of you over, trading places, landing on your back as she hovers over you. Her silver chain dangling above your face. It felt like your first time all over again, you felt a sense of shyness creeping over you under her gaze. Anticipation and excitement blooming in your chest.

“Fuck, look at you.” She says. The way she’s studying you makes you feel like the most beautiful thing to ever exist, as if every curve of your body is a masterpiece deserving of praise. Unable to contain your impatience, you pull her head down to meet your lips, your hips instinctively bucking up, frustration showing in the heated moment. Her fingers start to trail downwards under your skirt, meeting your clothed cunt. “You want me to fuck you? Hm?” She whispers in your ear, “Is that what you want baby?” She taunts, her fingers slowly grazing over your underwear. 

You nod vigorously, your enthusiasm evident. She responds by sucking on your neck again, sending shivers down your spine, your face flushed with heat. Your hands instinctively tug at her hair.

“Yes, Haze, please, fuck.” You arch your neck, pressing it firmly into the softness of the pillow beneath, a small gasp escaping your lips as you surrender to the moment. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

She makes a noise of desperation, her warm breath fanning over your face. “Gonna make you feel so good baby” She moves your underwear to the side, running her fingers through your slick folds. You gasp and she groans. “Wanna make it up to you.”

She tugs at the waistband of your skirt. You lift your hips as she guides it down along with your underwear. Hazel curses under her breath, “You’re so wet, it’s so fucking hot.” She plants kisses all over your chest, each one feeling like it could set you on fire. 

She slowly fucks you with her middle finger, the touch leaving you reeling. She adds her ring finger, her free hand snaking under your neck. Her fingers gently grab the side of your face while she fucks you, slightly tugging and grazing them against your parted lips. It's an intimate gesture, conveying both tenderness and desire.

Your hips buck up to meet her fingers. “Holy fuck” you groan as she pumps them faster into you. “Like that,” your voice is completely shot. Your entire body fizzed from the contact. You gently bite down on her fingers near your mouth while she places kisses all over your cheeks and your lips. Your head spun with thoughts of her - her mouth, her hair, her scent, Hazel was everywhere, all-encompassing. 

“Fuck, you’re so good” She half slurs, her voice wrecked, pupils blown and her lips parted. “So good for me.” She whispers, keeping her pace, dragging her digits through the wetness at your core.

Her mouth makes its way down your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses until she’s on her stomach between your thighs. Pumping faster, her lips suck at your clit. Her other hand presses down on your abdomen, holding you in place. You cup your aching tits, feeling them move with every motion she makes.

“Hazel,” you whine, “Haze, I-” Her fingers pick up the pace, curling inside of you. You tread your fingers through her hair, tugging slightly, the coil in your tummy growing tighter and tighter. 

“I know, honey, I know,” She says in response to your moans. “You sound so pretty baby, missed those sounds so much.” She keeps babbling, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look for her. 

“Fuck, don’t stop” you moan as she continues fucking you with her mouth and fingers, her pace alternating between teasing and fast, pushing you toward the edge. The contrast in her movements intensifies the pleasure, almost giving you want you want but flaking at the last moment, it’s torture.

“Shit, you’re almost there sweetheart” Hazel swears under her breath, voice laced with her own arousal. Her words drive you closer to the edge. You swear you can see stars as the overwhelming feeling shocks through your body. Your heart rate picks up immensley, pounding in your chest.

“Gonna come for me baby, yeah?” “Want you to come all over these fingers.” 

And you did. Your body clenches around her fingers, trembling, moans and curses spilling from your lips. Your eyes form with tears from the overstimulation. Her face landed in the crook of your neck, planting sloppy kisses and whispering reassurances as she guides you through the climax.

“Good girl, that’s it, honey. That’s it,” she murmurs.

Her fingers still slowly pumping in and out of you, riding out your high.

“Holy shit," you say once you've caught your breath. "Haze, c'mere." She lifts her head back up and you yank her face down to yours, tasting yourself on her lips as she lets out a soft moan. When you eventually pull away, both breathless, you lock eyes before bursting into disbelieving laughter.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You whisper.

"I can," she says smugly. You playfully shove her before she collapses beside you. Both of you lie face to face, studying each other's features, committing them to memory, afraid you might forget what they look like. Her hand rests on your waist, mindlessly grazing up and down.

"What's the real reason you didn't come to the party? You ask. Were you with someone else?" Hazel shakes her head.

She pauses before speaking, "I thought if there was any chance of you being there, that I was gonna walk in and maybe see you with someone else. There was no way I could've handled that. I've been distracting myself with other girls, yeah, but..." Her voice trails off. "You have no idea how in love with you I still am." Her voice cracking with emotion. You can see a tear forming in Hazel’s eye, glimmering in the low light of the room.

“Hazel..” Your own voice slightly breaking. You reach out and drag your thumb delicately against her cheek, wiping the stray tear away. Your heart is breaking with a mixture of guilt and longing for the girl lying beside you.

“I still play pretend, in my head.” She whispers.

You smile, your hand resting on her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, a signal of encouragement for her to keep going. 

“I picture us, living together in our apartment in the city.” 

Hazel was moving to New York City to work for her aunt after graduation. The reason you broke up, neither of you wanting to do long distance.

“Waking up next to you everyday, cooking you breakfast, fucking you on the countertop for hours” You both laugh at that. “Ever since I met you, I’ve always pictured you just being there. And these past few months…” 

“Absolute hell.” You finish for her. 

“Absolute hell.” She agrees. 

You take her hand and squeeze it, a silent form of reassurance. 

She shifts slightly and hovers over you again, brushing your damp hair off your forehead with her hand, and scans your face. “I don’t want this to end” she whispers. 

You wish you could capture this moment, tuck it away, and replay it whenever you wanted. You’ve been waiting for her to say these exact words for the past three months, you just never thought it would happen. The reason for your break-up still heavily taunts the back of your mind. 

“I love you” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. Taking her face in your hand and capturing her in another kiss. She kisses you sweetly and desperately.

You pull away, gently coaxing her back towards you, and cuddle her into your chest, assuming the role of the big spoon.

She nestles into your arms, finding comfort in the warmth of your body. With a soft sigh, she murmurs, "I wish we had more time.”

You tighten your hold around her, "We'll figure something out, I promise," you whisper, though you aren’t even sure of the reality of your own words. You choose to let go of the uncertainties, preferring to revel in the present moment. She looks back at you, and you kiss her forehead, a silent promise to cherish what you have, even if time feels fleeting.

“God damn full moon.” You mutter to yourself, remembering your earlier conversation at the party.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing.” You say. “Don’t worry about it.” You kiss her shoulder, settling into the softness of the moment.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

tagging @astroph1les @vster0769

[stellar-waves]

stay on my side tonight *

. . .

[ boondock saints : connor + unnamed fem!oc ] ⚠ warnings: 18+ only! explicit language, poorly written angsty smut, unprotected because established relationship A/N: Established relationship AU set just after the first movie. This has been sitting in my brain and in my drafts for a while, and I'm finally in a headspace that I was able to finish it (poorly). ♫ music inspiration: "Disintegration" by Jimmy Eat World

. . .

“You have some nerve, you know that?” 

She’s angry. She has every right to be angry. And Connor knows that. But still, he wanted to see her…he needed her.

“May I come in?” he asks quietly, shifting his weight under her firm gaze. The twist in her mouth gives him a bit of hope, coating his voice with a wash of desperation. “Please?”

She steps aside, letting him enter her apartment. He feels like a stranger, a ghost of what they used to be. She moves to the sofa, curling her legs up impatiently while Connor just stands there. He opens his mouth, searching for the right words to say…to fix this. 

She shakes her head and looks down at her fidgeting hands. “It’s all over the news.”

Her voice rips his heart apart. He should have told her. He should have told her the truth from the beginning. But he thought he could protect her, so he lied. With a lump in his throat, he forces himself to speak. “Lass, I…”

But she holds up her index finger, staring him down. “Don’t.” After a few heartbeats, she sucks in a breath, relaxing her shoulders as her face softens slightly. “I don’t want to fight right now. And if you apologize, I’ll want to fight, so just don’t.”

Connor slides off his coat and lays it on the dining table. He slips his hands into his jeans pockets, slowly walking back toward her, genuine and cautious. “What do ye want, then?” 

She can’t bring her eyes to meet his; instead, she rests her gaze on his forearms and shakes her head. “I just want to know why, Connor...why you didn’t tell me.”

He sits on the coffee table in front of her, resting his arms on his knees as he leans forward, wanting everything to go back and change what he had said in the past few months. “Would ye believe me if I said I wanted to protect ye?”

“No…well, yeah…fuck, I don’t know,” she covers her face with her hands and lets out a small, bitter groan. Connor wants to reach for her and place his hand on her knee, but he holds back, pulling air into his lungs when she wipes her cheeks and glares back at him. “But now I know. You still going to protect me?”

He presses his lips together, biting back the guilt and the fear. “Aye. That’s why I have to go away.”

The hurt in her eyes makes him want to crumble. All he has to do is offer to take her with him. But he can’t. Because it’s better to live with regret than risk putting her in danger. 

The questions spiral in her face, questions she knows he won’t answer. 

Connor rubs his thumb over the tattoo on his other hand, then twists the plain silver ring around his finger that matches hers—never traded in front of witnesses, never accompanied by a legal document, instead just a simple promise to each other. 

“When do you leave?” she asks quietly, breaking the thick silence between them, refusing to look at him. 

He inhales slowly, his promise to her shattering with one single word. “Soon.”

She nods, a tear escaping down her cheek as she still can’t bring her eyes back to him. She reaches out for the pack of cigarettes, her arm brushing against Connor with a chilling spark. Her breath hitches with hesitance, and she offers the box to him. He pulls two cigs out, along with the lighter he stole from his brother, lighting both simultaneously between his lips. He hands one to her and watches her body relax from the nicotine as she slowly blows out smoke. 

Her eyes finally meet his, a sense of resignation dulling the color of her irises. “Do what you want,” she says, her voice flat and void of expectation.

Connor takes another drag and hangs his head, his eyebrows pressing together as he watches the love they both knew fade away. “None of this is what I wanted. It just…it is what it is.” He rubs at the back of his neck, the rosary beads pinching his skin as if to remind him what remains at stake. And maybe that’s why he never told her, because he couldn’t understand why his devotion to the greater good started to outweigh his devotion to her. 

She hangs on her cigarette, her eyes narrow yet somehow empathetic. “Then do what you need to do.”

He breathes out, his chest tightening as he stares at her. She tamps out her smoke in the ashtray, and as Connor discards his own, she grabs his face and kisses him. He’s caught off guard, but the burning in his heart moves him. He threads his hands into her hair, deepening the kiss with his tongue. 

Because tonight, he needs her. 

He drags his lower lip over hers, drinking her in as she pulls him to the sofa. She strips his t-shirt over his head, the wooden cross falling to his stomach as he brings his arms back around her. He grips her hips, and she runs her fingers along his jawline, feeling the stubble of facial hair until her hands slide to his neck. His pulse drums next to the Virgin Mary tattoo, and he can’t tell if his blood is surging with love or desperation. 

Whatever it is, he feels it under her skin, too. 

She discards her shirt, leaving her bare breasts heaving as she reaches for his jeans. Connor moves his hand to assist, his fingers tangling against hers as they release his belt. His blood pumps harder into his veins as she takes off her remaining garments. His cock swells at the sight of her while his heart breaks simultaneously. 

A distant thunder growls in the night outside, bringing a steady rain pattering against the windows. Connor inhales slowly, his chest hot and sweaty against her hands. She stares at him with a palpable lust, though her eyes remain dark reminders of his lies, of his sins. Still, he needs her. 

He rolls back as she moves to straddle him. She wraps her fist around his cock, pumping him hard as his eyes drop to stare at her breasts. He rubs his hands around her ribcage, coercing her to lean in closer as he kisses her sternum.  She shifts above him, stroking his cock against her clit until he twitches and pulsates harder. He moans and digs his fingers into her skin. 

Connor can’t help but stare into her eyes as she positions his member to her entrance. Her eyebrows knit together briefly as he slides inside her, salt stinging his eyes as he watches her slowly begin thrusting. He knows this pain, this physical pain she feels, will be over in just a few seconds, just like every time before. But the other pain, the pain that will elude everything he knows about her…that pain still sits just under her skin. 

Despite the pleasure of their bodies being connected as one, Connor feels a tear fall fast down his cheek. His breath catches in his throat as she leans in, brushing her lips against his while her hair brushes his shoulder. “Shh,” she whispers into his mouth, wiping her thumb across his salt-stained cheek. 

But that dangerous mix of love and desperation rushing through Connor’s veins suddenly explodes in his heart. He kisses her frantically, holding her tightly as they tumble onto the floor together. He loops an arm under one leg, lifting her knee to hook onto his shoulder. The stretch coaxes a sultry moan from her throat, rippling into Connor as he shudders with desire. 

His bicep flexes as he holds her leg, and her walls tighten around him. Somehow, he blinks slowly, letting everything come back into focus as he feels the edge of her orgasm echo into him. Her eyes glisten, and her voice trembles slightly, staring at him as he holds her face with his other hand. “Stay.”

Connor’s gaze traces over his tattoo before finding hers again. He exhales softly, biting back the burning conflict inside his chest. “Tonight, álainn.”

A small smile tugs at her lips but quickly disappears as Connor moves ever so slightly inside her. She grasps his forearm that’s keeping her leg in place against him and wraps her other leg around his waist as she shivers in ecstasy. He thrusts harder, slower, holding onto this feeling for as long as possible…holding her for as long as the night will allow. 

Her orgasm sends shockwaves through her body, vibrating into Connor and pushing him to increase his pace. She groans loudly as she comes, and Connor knows he’s done for. He slams his hips into her once more, gasping as he releases inside her. 

As he stills his body and steadies his breath, Connor gently guides her leg off of his shoulder. He gently runs his hand back up her thigh to her hip before shifting himself to lie next to her on the floor. She inhales softly as Connor grazes his fingers across her forehead, brushing her hair off her face before trailing his hand down her collarbone. 

She presses her hand over his, rubbing her fingers against his knuckles until she stops at his ring. He doesn’t move, letting the sad silence fall between them as she pulls the ring from his finger. He deserves that, he admits to himself. But she slides her ring onto his finger instead, the smaller circle of silver unable to move past his first knuckle. “To remember,” she confesses quietly, hooking his larger ring on her index finger as she clasps his hand again.

Connor kisses the side of her head, muttering a hushed “come on” as he pulls her into his arms. Without argument, she loops her arms around him, and he carries her into the bedroom. She slides under the blankets and sheets, her naked body starting to shiver as the cold of night breaks through their dissipating heat. Connor begins to tuck her in, figuring it’d be best if he leaves now…but she reaches for his hand, tangling her fingers between his and yet somehow still holding onto his ring. Her eyes burn his soul as she pulls him into bed with her. 

She melts into him as he holds her tighter, feeling his rosary pressed between their skin as if to remind him of everything he’s done…everything that’s bigger than the love they used to know so well. 

Her broken heart beats against his own, and Connor swallows his pride as he blinks to release the tears he’d been holding back.

Tonight…stay tonight.

. . .

[ericaand]

I Saw It On TV

Characters: Eddie Munson x olderfem!reader

Summary: Eddie needed to return something, and you confess that you've been watching him, watching you.

Word Count: 1800+

Warnings: Smut (minors, DNI, please), pnv (unprotected), oral. And a little fluff thrown in, you shouldn't have to squint too hard.

A/N: Um, this is my first (and maybe last) smut. I'm not sure if it's good, bad, ugly, etc. Considering this is my first, feedback would be extremely helpful if you're willing. I feel like I shouldn't have to preface this but, it is the internet after all. Hate won't be tolerated, however constructive criticism is appreciated.

MASTERLIST

You inhale a large puff of your cigarette and lift your foot behind you to drag the cherry across the bottom of your heel.

"You know, I've been watching you, Munson." You exhale your smoke. "And I know you've been watching me."

"Listen, Ms. Y/L/N - "

"Eddie, please. I'm not that much older than you, and I'm NOT my mother. You know my name."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Sorry, Y/N. Listen, I...I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I know I shouldn't but - "

You take a step forward and look into his eyes, dragging your hand from his shoulder down to his hand, taking the hammer he's returning. "Hey, it's okay. I actually think it's kinda hot." You shrug and smirk.

Eddie's mouth falls open as he looks anywhere but your eyes.

"Eddie, would you like to come in for a bit, maybe talk a little?" You grab his hand and start for your front door. Mouth still open, Eddie nods fervently.

Eddie shuts the door behind him and follows you to the couch. Before you sit down you ask, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Uh, sure. Whatever's fine." He sits with his knees wide.

You pull a glass from the cupboard, and grab yours from the table, along with the open bottle of wine. At the coffee table, you pour both glasses equally and hand one to Eddie.

Eddie gives you a shakey smile, smelling the wine and swirling it. "Never tried wine before." He remarks.

You giggle and shake your head. "You look like you have."

He shrugs confidently, " I saw it on TV."

You swing your legs on the couch and turn towards him, your arm resting on the back of the couch. Your boobs getting squished together and showing more cleavage than normal. You notice Eddie's eyes darting between your chest, your eyes, and his wine.

Your mouth curved into a smile, as you lowered our head, without breaking eye contact with him. "Hey, eyes up here big boy. You've been watching me for years. How old are you now? 19? 20?"

"Uh, 21 actually." He took a swig of his wine and winced at the bitterness. Your shoulders shook with a giggle.

"You don't have to drink that, you know. Twenty-one huh? There's less of a gap between us than I thought. Adulthood looks good on you." You run your fingers from the corner of his jawbone to his chin.

He shivers and stutters, "I don't mind. It's not bad. Hey Ms. Y/L/N...uh, I mean y/n - "

"Would you stop that? I'm only like 5 years older than you, not a century. What do I have to do to show you I'm not some old lady?"

You half slammed your glass down on the coffee table, and did the same with his, small splashes of red wine sloshing and spilling over the sides. Eddie looked at your wide-eyed like he was in trouble.

You stood, and climbed on top of him, resting your weight on his hips straddling him. "Would an old lady do this?" You cupped both sides of his jaw in your hands and dove into his parted lips. Gently sucking and licking his bottom lip.

You pulled away, his lips remained parted and eyes wide with shock and disbelief.

"Nnn...no. I..I...I don't think so." He shook his head.

"Eddie, do you think I'm hot?" He nodded. "Do you think I'm sexy?" He nodded again, but this time with eagerness.

You crossed your arms in front of your body, grabbing either side of your cami and lifting it over your head. Eddie grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you toward him; he began to nibble and suck at your lip. You engaged and leaned into him as he slid his hands down your back to your ass, grabbing firmly.

You moved your kisses down to his jaw, and neck, and eventually peppered his collarbone with kisses. He leaned forward, with you still on his lap, and allowed you to pull his shirt off his body.

He gripped your squishy hips, biting his bottom lip, and traced his eyes from your unbuttoned shorts to your eyes.

"I feel like I should tell you, I've only done this like...2 times."

You smirked, and bent down to whisper, "It's okay, I can teach you what I like."

You crawled off of him and situated yourself on the couch next to him. You curled your finger toward yourself, and Eddie quickly stood up and kneeled between your legs.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, allowing it to fall and reveal your breasts. You weren't sure, but you thought you heard an audible gasp come from Eddie's direction.

"Come 'ere." You spoke softly. "I want you to kiss me...here." You pointed to your neck. "Here." To your collarbone. "Here." In between your breasts. "And here." You grasped your boobs and squeezed, letting out a whisper of a moan.

Eddie looked like a deer in headlights but happily obliged. He began trailing kisses from your neck to your collarbone and eventually reached your boobs. He cupped both sides and brought them closer together. He began to swirl his tongue around each areola, without touching the nipple just yet.

He moved his hands behind your back to your shoulder blades, digging his nails in slightly, as his head wandered to your left breast. First kissing your hardened nipple, before gently sucking. Followed by the same action on the other side. You sucked air between your teeth, hissing.

You watched as he slowly began making his way toward the top of your pants. He looked at you beneath his brows. "Is this okay?"

You reached down and unbuttoned your shorts, lifting your hips while he gripped the sides of them, pulling them down and off. You were left in your underwear, a clear damp spot where there was none minutes before.

Eddie inhaled and began kissing your inner thighs until he reached your covered pussy. You looped your thumbs into the sides of your underwear, lifted your hips, and pulled them down, revealing your slick to Eddie.

He looked you in the eyes, as his smile lies began to form, then back down to your pussy. He took his middle and index finger to open your lips so he could get a better view of your clit.

"For someone who's only done this a few times, you sure seem to know what you're doing." You smiled.

He shrugged once again. "I saw it on TV."

He placed his tongue on your clit, first swirling circles around it, and flicking it; up and down, left and right.

You arched your back and grabbed your boobs, fumbling with your nipples.

He wrapped his lips around your bud and began to suck, looking at you with blown pupils, as your moaned.

He pulled back, and ran two fingers up and down your slit, making sure you were wet enough. He plunged both fingers into you, curling and flicking them toward himself. He wrapped his lips around your clit once again and combined sucking with licking as your moans cheered him on.

You felt a tightness in your stomach, as your breathing became quicker and more intense.

"Don't stop, please." You groaned. "Right there. Dont move. Ugh fuckkk."

Eddie continued to work your body into orgasm. Your moans became louder and longer until he felt you shuddering around his fingers. But he didn't stop, he continued on, making your body tremble until you had to reach your hand to his forehead, grasp his hair, and pull him off your clit.

He kept his fingers inside you, continuing the flicking motion; you didn't let go of his hair, arching your back further and further. With a swift motion, he pulled his fingers from you and wiped them on his jeans. When you opened your eyes, he was staring intensely, mouth turned into a large smile.

"Up." You motioned with your index finger.

Eddie stood. You leaned forward, pulling the strap of his belt through the buckle, and the prong from the hole. You slid his belt out of each loop, tantalizingly slow. Eddie used his toes to take off each shoe and push them aside.

You wrapped your fingers on either side of his slender hips, into his pants and boxers, sliding them down to his ankles. His cock sprang forth as the elastic slid over it.

You sat up straighter and elongated your neck while looking at him proudly. "Off."

He hurried to pull his pants from his ankles and kick those beside his discarded shoes. Like the good soldier he was, he went right back to his placement, standing in front of you.

You dragged your nails from his hips to mid-thigh and back up. You slid your fingers from the base of under his member to the tip, then back to the base, gripping it firmly. Eddie's hands were both behind his neck, hips thrust forward slightly, as he let out a groan.

You stroked his cock slowly and kissed the tip. Looking at him from beneath your lashes, "I want you to fuck me."

"As you wish, m'lady."

You leaned back on the soft blanketed couch and scooted so that your ass was barely hanging off the edge. Eddie knelt and aligned himself with your entrance.

He scanned your face, and you nodded back.

He slowly rubbed his cock up and down your slit, as he held it firmly, slipping the head in. You gasped, and he smile devilishly.

He plunged into you, bottoming out as you yelped in shock. You didn't understand how he could be so inexperienced but be so fucking good.

He pulled himself almost out of you completely, until he began to pick up the pace; pounding himself into you. He gripped your hips to keep you in place and watched as your breasts bounced with every thrust.

You grabbed his hands, which were still on your hips, and dug your nails into them, making Eddie move faster and faster. His moves began to stutter, as he tightened his grip on you even further.

With one last guttural moan and thrust combined, he released thick ropes of cum, coating your insides. He folded over and rested his head on your stomach, slowly catching his breath.

You gently pet his head, moving hair from his face. "Damn Munson, you must watch a lot of TV."

His shoulders jerked slightly as he laughed. He looked up at you, "I'm sorry."

You knitted your brows. "What? For what? That was probably some of the best sex I've ever had." You remarked.

He sat up and licked his lips, ending with his tongue clicking. "I came inside you..."

You shrugged, "It's ok. It'll be okay."

[kahvilahuhut]

a surprise visit

also find the drawing here :)

A little Cynosure scene I wanted to write out asap because it's been rotating a lot in my head lately :]

Summary: Klara looked at the weather forecast and decided to leave from her work trip two days earlier than she was supposed to, in case the flights will be cancelled because of another storm. Getting home early, she decides to surprise her spouse while it's at work. And instead she finds it has picked up its bad habit again.

Warnings: smoking, implied mental health problems

Klara carefully opened the door and saw Tobias stand next to the ledge. At first, she was going to say hi straight away, or slowly sneak up and hug it from behind.

But then she stopped and leaned at the doorway. Just looking at it for a moment would be fun.

It was looking at the street, slowly stretching its hands. A typical habit it would do when stressed. Klara watched it rotate its wrists, stretch its fingers, slowly move its shoulders...

It took a deep breath, stood still for a moment, and took out a pack of cigarettes.

Klara raised an eyebrow. It's not something she expected to see.

It lit its cigarette quickly, as if its a typical thing for it to do, and put it in its mouth. Klara shifted a little, getting ready to come closer, when Tobias leaned on the ledge and glanced at the doorway, suddenly noticing Klara.

"Uh, hi. Lydia said you'd be here?" Klara said, slightly waving, and raised the brown bag she was holding, "I brought, um, coffee and chocolate croissants..."

It stared at her, mouth half open, trying to still hold the cigarette, brown eyes wide open, with dark eyebags under them. A somewhat frightened look at its face. No, not frightened, something else? Surprised, mixed with exhausted and... ashamed?

Klara placed the bag on the floor and walked closer, gently wrapping her left hand around its shoulders and took its cigarette out with her right. "Oh, honey..." she murmured, kissing its forehead as it blew out the smoke. "How did this happen?"

"I'm- I-," it began, leaning its head on her shoulder, "Had an, um, bad day three weeks ago... Went outside to get some fresh air, while it was raining. Abner came there to have a smoke and I, um," it let out a sob, "I don't know, I... I just stared at it and he asked if I want some, and I just...couldn't say no, I guess? I-" it paused to wipe its cheek and sniff, "I needed something to feel better so bad, to have something else to think instead of... all this," Tobias gestured with its hand towards the building.

Klara brushed its hair with her fingers, "It's fine, honey, it's fine," she said, glancing at the cigarette in her other hand, "I don't remember you smoking two weeks ago when I returned from the first work trip..."

"It wasn't, um, it wasn't that bad back then, I could-" it covered its face with its left hand, "I could, like, take a break, or only smoked like twice or thrice... But then I, um. God, this is so embarassing..." It muttered and buried its face in Klara's neck, sobbing.

She said softly, "No, it's not, that's just how life is sometimes... Everything can happen to all of us," she smiled at it as it started to rise its head again.

"That's- ugh. It's just that it's been, what, 20 years since I stopped," Tobias managed to say, "And now where am I? Back at this shit again. I just..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay," she said and glanced at the cigarette again, flickrd the ash into ashtray and took a drag. "See? We will get through this."

"Käresta, come on..." it murmured between its sobs, as Klara put put the cigarette back into its mouth for a moment, before putting it out in the ashtray. "I, um, fuck-" it sniffed, "when you left to another work trip and I woke up in this, um, empty, cold bed all alone, I just suddenly, um, I felt so awful... As if all the stress and bad feelings just filled my brain and, well, I-"

"Decided that smoking more would help?"

It nodded slowly. "I know, sounds ridiculous, right?"

"No," Klara murmured and gently wiped its tears from its cheek.

"Mmh," Tobias buried its face in her neck again, wrapping its both arms around her in a hug. "I'm just- I'm so fucking tired. I feel so exhausted, I'm so tired of this fucking project, I-" it mumbled, and Klara could swear she heard its voice crack despite it being muffled, "I want out so bad. But the fucking contract doesn't let me. I am so done with all this, I just... I want to leave. Now. I can't do this anymore..."

Klara squeezed it closer in a hug and whispered, "I could see if Sarah could do something about it, if you want?" Not like Sarah would listen to her, after she just up and left from the work trip earlier today instead of sitting through another meeting where she had nothing to do. It's not like she'd let it affect work related stuff, right?

"You don't have to, I can, um, try and ask by myself, um..."

"No, I'll do it. And you take a sick leave for the rest of the week while I try to figure everything out."

"Klara..."

"Shh, you need a break. We can start with the iced coffee and croissants I bought."

"Mmhmm..." it sighed and gently kissed her neck. "By the way, um," it began, "What are you doing here? I mean, um, you said you'll return in two days on our morning call, and I-"

"I checked a weather forecast and noticed the possibility of a storm getting even higher for this week, and realized that they may cancel the flights, just in case," she explained, gently running her fingers through its hair, "And so I decided to, well, go 'fuck it' and booked a flight that would've been in two hours after our call. I just didn't care at that point. I wanted to get here, surprise you with a snack break..." she felt it smile against her neck, "Not like this, though, but hey, it's something."

"I'm so glad you're here, honey."

"I'm glad to be here, too," Klara smiled, "Now go sign out of work and let's go home. I think we should also stop by the cafe again and get their bagels."

[munsoninthedark86]

Every Day is Halloween(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

words: 1,1k

warnings: general smuttiness, making out, heavy petting, vaginal fingering, vulgar words, drug use.

It’s Halloween night. You have nothing to do. No party to go to. You’re bored as all hell. You want to find something to do. Breaking you out of your superficial thoughts, the phone rings. You answer slowly, lighting up a cigarette at the same time.

“Glad you picked up, babe. I was wonderin’ if you were coming over.” Eddie’s voice came through from the other line.

You smirk, “I thought you were busy with Hellfire club tonight,” Eddie had been planning a special Halloween campaign for tonight, but it must have fell through.

“Nah babe. The kiddos wanted to go out tonight. So I’m just sitting here alone, waiting for my baby to come to me.”

You take another drag of your cigarette. “Be there in ten.”

Inside the trailer, you follow Eddie to his bedroom. The place has been slightly decorated for Halloween, but this is mostly an effort from your part. Since the beginning of the month, you’ve been bringing a little decoration with yourself to decorate the trailer. You knew it needed a little holiday spirit.

In Eddie’s room, you drop the bag of candy on his bed and settle on the floor to kick off your shoes. Eddie sits at his desk, and he watches as you begin rummaging through the tapes for something to listen to. Recently the two of you have been listening to all kinds of stuff, but tonight you want something classic. You pop it into the tape player and you press play.

When you turn to face Eddie, he’s smirking at you. He pats his lap, and he beckons you over. You saunter over to him, and you straddle him. Eddie chuckles at your neediness.

“Thought you were feeling a little needy for me. But you were playing shy, weren’t you?” You shake your head no, but he’s just smirking again.

“C’mon baby, don’t play coy with me like this.” Eddie teases. He presses a kiss to your lips. “Though, you are very cute like this.”

He picks up the joint from his desk and lights it up. Eddie takes a few puffs before passing it to you.

“I know I’m not a drunken Halloween party,” you pass him back the joint and he takes a hit. “But we can have our own little fun together. I rented your favorite, Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

You cheer happily, and Eddie smiles. He’d do anything to make you smile like that. It’s just so damn adorable to him whenever you’re this happy. He knew you had wanted to make plans to go out tonight, but you didn’t because you wanted to see him. And that alone was enough to really see how much he means to you.

“So, here’s what I’m thinkin’,” Eddie ashes out the joint. You feel so tingly like this. Your body feels warmer while pressed up against him. “I’ll put on the movie for my princess, and I’ll fuck you while we watch it.”

You can’t help the gasp that escapes you. You both giggle, and which slowly dies off as Eddie begins kissing you. It’s not long before you two are making out sloppily. The cold metal of his rings feel so fucking good pressed to your cheek. You long to feel it elsewhere on your body.

“I think that’s the best way we could spend tonight. Plus, I even brought some candy.” You answer. You point to the bag sitting on the bed. It’s a little childish, but you know you’ll be hit with the munchies sooner than later.

Eddie sets you down on the ground, and he grabs one of the blankets on his bed. You two head out into the living room, knowing that Uncle Wayne won’t be home for hours. Not until morning of course. Eddie sets up the movie in the VCR and you’re grabbing some water from the fridge. The bag of candy is also on the coffee table now.

With the blanket set up on the couch along with some comfortable throw pillows, Eddie thinks his work is done. Until he realizes he’ll need to get you naked. Articles of clothing get discarded with every chaste kiss until you’re naked and Eddie is just sucking on your tongue.

“Get on the couch, baby. ‘Wanna show you how badly I’ve been wanting you.” He begins taking off his clothes.

You watch as he takes off his shirt, revealing his gorgeous chest with the many tattoos. You’ve always loved that so much about him. His tattoos look so good on him. They suit who he is. Then, his hands trail down to his belt, and while he’s looking dead in your eyes, he begins to unbuckle it.

“Baby, I want you to touch yourself while you watch me strip.” He’s surprised at his own naughty words, but you only nod your head.

“Okay, Eddie.”

Your hand soothes down your own body as you settle on the couch. Your thighs open wide, and your hand slips between them to stroke your wet folds. You’re surprised to feel just how wet you are, but you suspect the weed had a big role to play in that. Along with your boyfriend undressing right in front of you.

“Fuck—” Eddie sputters as he watches you rub your clit. Your lips are parted ever so slightly, letting out little pants of his name. “If only you knew how fuckin’ sexy you are right now.”

His hands make quick work of unbuckling his belt. Then he looped his fingers into the belt hoops and watched you. Your soaking wet pussy is just dripping all over the couch. How is he going to mask the scent? Part of him doesn’t care, but he thinks about a few ways he can make it so you two weren’t fucking so filthy in the living room.

“Shit! Are you really that wet already? We didn’t even do anything,”

You pant, “I know. Just want you so fucking bad, Eddie. You weren’t the only one thinking about this.”

He smirks as he begins to unbutton his jeans. Already his cock is rock hard and straining against the tight denim of his jeans. You really are a wet dream come true to him. You are everything he wants and more. He can’t believe his lucky stars sometimes when you tell him you love him.

Eddie comes closer and bends down to kiss you sloppily. His hand replaces yours, and he pumps two of his fingers into you. The invasive stretch makes you cry out. Eddie moans when he feels how fucking warm you are.

“Fuck baby, I’d blow my load right away if I fucked you right now. Your little cunt is so good,” He blushes at his confession, but you don’t seem to care one bit.

“It’s okay baby, we’ve got all night.” You press a kiss to his lips once again.

“I fuckin’ love halloween…”

[justsomeclintasha]

@tashas-hawk I thought I posted this forever ago but I can’t find it so I guess I didn’t. I know it’s not what you were looking for but thought you might like it anyway? ( @scarlettjohanssones )

Update: turns out I had posted it before but I’m leaving this here anyway

Finally, back at home. Unlocking the door to his apartment, he shuffles inside and drops his bags on the floor. It’s late- or early- depending on how he wants to look at it, which at the moment, is not at all. All he’s been thinking about is his bed for the last six hours. He steps into his room, right into the barrel of a gun aimed between his eyes.

“Nat?” She swears and backs away, laying the weapon on the nightstand.

“You should have knocked.” It’s as close to an apology as he’s going to get. She settles back in his bed, pulling the covers to her chin.

“It’s my room,” he defends. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“Needed somewhere to crash. Didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Something wrong with your apartment?”

“Water pipe burst. Getting it fixed tomorrow.” He strips off his dirty clothes and searches through the clean pile on his floor. “Hurry up. I’m cold,” she mumbles, her voice tired. She curls into him immediately as he joins her under the covers. They’re both asleep within minutes.

XXXXX

“Breakfast,” she offers, setting it on the table. A perk of his apartment- their favorite cafe is right down the street. Arguably, they have the best bagels in the city, maybe even the world. At least according to him.

“Coffee, a bagel, and strawberry cream cheese? You really do know the way to my heart.”

“Can’t say I never did anything for you.”

“You want me to take a look at that water pipe before you call someone? I could probably fix it.”

“Uh, no, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure? I could-“

“It’s fine.” His eyes narrow, and she’s suddenly very interested in spreading cream cheese on her bagel.

“You’re a shit liar around me, you know that?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Push too hard, and she’s going to shut down. Subject change.

“Mission was boring. Hot during the day, freezing at night. I’ve seen enough sand to last a lifetime. And you know, I used to think camels were nice, but not anymore. Could you believe he threw me off? In the middle of the desert, just dumped me off his back!” His smile is contagious, and soon she’s laughing along with him as he recounts his mission.

XXXXX

He drops off his report and decides to swing by her apartment despite her earlier protests. Hopefully she’s not there and he can clean up some of the water damage for her. His key turns in the lock. A brushing noise comes from inside, stops as he pushes the door open. The smell of fresh paint stings his nostrils.

“I told you I could handle it.”

“I know, I-“ His breath catches in his throat. Someone has spray painted Soviet symbols on her walls, thrown her books on the floor and covered them with an angry stripe of paint. Even her comforter has been destroyed- he can only see the first few letters, but can guess what is says. He swallows down the rage building inside of him. It’s not the time to be angry. Wordlessly, he grabs a roller and begins to help cover it all.

“Let’s get some air.” He’s grateful she breaks the silence. They step outside onto the fire escape, settling down on the cool metal. Her legs dangle over the side. She pulls out a cigarette, lights it with shaking hands.

“You can’t stay here. Smell of paint is too strong,” he remarks as if he’s stating the obvious, ignoring all the other reasons why she shouldn’t. “Stay with me.”

“Thanks.”

“You know you could just.. stay with me.” She takes another drag and doesn’t respond. He’ll take it for now.

He stuffs the comforter in a trash bag. Broken coffee mugs from the kitchen follow. She grabs another one for the books and halfway through he notices her wiping her eyes.

“Hey.” She shakes her head, not looking at him as she shoves another one in. A small photo album makes her pause, and he steps closer. He recognizes that book. It may be the most important one she owns. She’s staring at the undamaged cover, afraid that her pictures are gone, the only ones she has from her past. She can’t bring herself to do it. Slowly he reaches out and opens it for her. It’s not damaged. They missed this one. She clutches it to her chest, tears running freely down her cheeks. They dampen his shirt as he pulls her into his arms. “It’s okay, Nat. It’s okay.”

XXXXX

It’s only temporary.

They’ve finished moving the last of her things into his apartment. It feels like she’s always been here. A routine has already been established- three snooze alarms in the morning before work, which leaves just enough time for sleepy kisses and breakfast from the cafe as they drive. He makes dinner. She tries to help. She soon becomes banned from cooking, so she does the laundry instead.

Shooting arrows is not allowed in the living room, and neither is throwing knives.

He loves the smell of her shampoo in the morning, and he’s even upped his own, replacing the 2in1 bottle that was almost empty anyway. Her toothbrush lives next to his on the counter, along with her hairbrush, and he owns a lotion now.

They watch tons of movies and she buys more books. She stacks them in the living room. He builds a bookshelf in the corner for her, then a second in the bedroom when the first one overflows. She finds herself laughing more than she has in a long time. He could listen to that sound forever.

She could say it’s only temporary, but what’s the point of lying now?

[celestialsister0918]

Chapter 2, "Someone's Dirty Bathwater"

Jackson Lamb x fem!OC, Slow Horses

Rated 18+ for later chapters.

If you have time to show some love on AO3 or want to bookmark for later, head here! :)

Adelaide throws the rubbish in the giant bin outside of Slough House and hops into her car. That interaction was certainly something.

She does not understand at all how smelly, greasy old Jackson Lamb, King of the Fuckups, had her so horny right now. Attraction is a very mysterious thing. Perhaps she likes the challenge? Or maybe she likes the way he spoke to her. Maybe a little degradation is sexy? At any rate, she knows nothing can happen until he learns the most basic of hygiene. She wasn’t asking for him to clean up like a prince, but some Pears soap and a bit of attention under the nails might be nice. As it stood right now, he would finger her into needing a double round of antibiotics.

She has dreams about him that night. He wasn’t really doing anything in the dreams. Just repeatedly pulling his pants up over his belly and glowering at her with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He looked like a caricature in a comedy. She should have woken up laughing at the absurdity. But she actually wakes up with a damn tingling between her legs and an excitement to start her day. What the actual hell?

That morning, when Lamb appears in the Slough House office, unshaven and unshowered, he's surprised to see such a glow on her face. In fact, Lamb is surprised at the brightness all round. The office is clean. Spotless. But more importantly, it smells a lot nicer than usual. Even with him in it.

“Good morning,” Adelaide says brightly. “I decided to start at 6 instead of 8. Ho took a break from his game to let me in. Apparently he gets here and games with people overseas before everyone else reports to work.”

“Does he now?” Lamb huffs, but he’s too distracted to give that tip too much thought. He looks around at the office, which now gleams in the morning light. It was like she was trying to piss him off. "You’ve been pretty busy, I see."

“I have,” she agrees, taking steps toward her pile of belongings in the corner. “And I brought a few things for you as well.”

The thought of this woman doing something nice for him was starting to irritate him a little. "A few things? What kind of things?"

She drags a carpet bag up on the table like a fucking sunshine-bubbly Mary Poppins.

“For starters— chocolate croissants. Something tells me the way to your heart is through your stomach. Assuming you have one. A heart, that is. But if we’re going to spend a month around one another, I’m determined to at least make you pleasant.”

Lamb is stunned into silence by her generosity. No one has done anything this considerate for him in… longer than he could remember. She thinks this is the way to his heart? That it'll be some kind of chink in his armor? This girl must be crazy. Insane. But the thought of those chocolate croissants and the scent of the accompanying freshly brewed coffee has him considering how it might be possible to like her, even if just long enough to eat.

“And here we have…”

She takes items out of the bag one by one: a bar of soap, body wash labeled “blood orange and spice,” anti-dandruff clarifying shampoo, deodorant, Nivea, and some concoction called “Moroccan neroli” aftershave. She also sets out nail clippers and a file. A fucking nail file!

That girl is out of her mind - a nail file? But he’s beginning to see the effort she’s making. This girl's really thinking out of the box. This could be the best way to get to him. She is getting to him, that much was certain. "Well, well… how fucking considerate,” he mutters. That was all he could manage for the moment.

“So I won’t be able to work in the washroom today, then? Because you’ll be occupying it?” she asks pointedly.

Lamb laughs, enjoying the sparring– the sense of them working each other to their breaking point. "Oh God, I guess you won't. I guess I'll be doing my personal grooming right here. On the office table. In full view of everyone."

“They might buy tickets,” Adelaide laughs.

"I can see it already,” he drolls. “Long queues outside the office. Tipping their hats from every direction. All to see that distinguished silver fox take the most refreshing shower of his career. You'd think I was bloody Brad Pitt for the way everybody’s going to be staring at me.”

She seems pleased with herself. “I bet you’ll clean up quite nicely. Then you can take me out for a drink after work.”

“Oh? And why would I want to do that?" he demands. "This isn't a date, is it?"

She shakes her head. “Of course not. It’s a drink.”

"Oh, so there’s no expectation of anything romantic in any way whatsoever?" He stares hard, a gleam in his eye.

She looks away briefly. “I don’t get the sense that you’re the romantic type.”

"Oh, you think you've got the measure of me, do you?” he says in a surly voice. “You think that I don't know how to treat a lady?" He moves slightly closer to her, so close she can smell the hint of chocolate croissants on his breath and feel the heat of that breath hitting her skin.

She appraises him with a raised eyebrow, leaning back slightly at the waist but not actually stepping away. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

Lamb closes the gap between them again. He’s so close now she can see grey flecks in his blue eyes. Close enough to kiss her….

Close enough to kiss her deeply and passionately, if that’s what she wants. And then he remembers... the smell. The smell of his breath, his clothes. And the fact she’s so very young. No. She can't actually like him like this. Can she?

Adelaide tightens her jaw and doesn’t breathe. She’s very attracted to him carnally, but her nose is still unfortunately fully functional. And it’s betraying her more forgiving body parts.

Lamb can tell he's got her on the hook. He's been able to read women since before he could read at all. Women tend to find him irresistible, even in the midst of his worst moments. Of course they didn’t like to show it; they preferred to banter and fight. But he knew. And this girl was no exception.

Just to prove it to her, he takes the cigarette out of his mouth, takes a last drag, and crushes it out in the ashtray next to her. And then he leans in toward her and whispers in her ear, "Let me know what time you're free tonight, and I'll remove any mystery.” Before she can say anything in response, he leans his head slightly back and smiles smugly.

“I’ll feel comfortable leaving around 5:00,” she finally replies. “I should be able to tackle a few of the other desks by then.”

“So then you'll be free at... say seven?" He's trying his damndest to sound nonchalant. 

She laughs. “You’re giving me two whole hours to go home and get dolled up for you? Do you think this is a date or something?”

"Yes," he answers flatly. "It is a date, and there's nothing you can do about it but prepare to have your wet knickers seduced right onto the floor."

She laughs out loud at this. “You’re pulling my leg.”

"I might do that later, too,” he remarks. “You can deny it all you like, but the truth is, you're already going to dress up for me, and we both know it. Even if it's only for dinner, there's still an element of courtship taking place. Or, if you prefer, seduction. And I'm telling you now, I'm going to seduce you. There's nothing you can do to stop me.”

She blinks again, biting her thumbnail in amusement. “We shall see then, won’t we? You might want to start on that bath. You only have 11 hours.”

"Oh, that's plenty of time,” Jackson assures her. “And remember, you might find that you like what you see when I'm clean. After all, you haven't experienced the unadulterated essence of Lamb yet."

Adelaide’s face feels like it might burst with the effort to hold back her giggles. “Is that something you share with women often? Your essence?”

"Women love my essence." Lamb's tone is playful, confident. He's got her hooked. "And you're no exception - you'll love it too. Once you get a taste, there won't be another guy you'd even consider. I'm going to ruin you."

Now she’s really chomping on her nail. He’s got her fascinated. It’s like he actually understands the disconnect between his appearance and the power he has over the female sex. Though she’s sure 99% of women would never admit it, and would therefore never spread their legs for him. She’s quite interested to find out just how much experience he’s actually had.

"The other men in your life will pale into insignificance,” he continues, taking a seat that nearly sends the rolling chair crashing into the wall. “They won't be able to compare to me. Once our lips meet, I'll make you crave me for the rest of your life, even when I'm not around. I'll be the one you have wet dreams about. The one you picture when you're trying to get turned on. The one whose face you imagine at your most private moments..."

She squirms and darts toward a feather duster, going to work. She simply can’t take it anymore. For one thing, she didn’t bring a change of knickers. And as he’d predicted, these were quickly becoming uncomfortable.

Lamb smiles to himself as he watches the girl squirm. She can't pretend to ignore him, even with a duster in her hand. Even now, she's pretending to clean, when they both know she's thinking about more lascivious things. The woman is a tease, but it's obvious she has a plan. She's playing hard to get.

About that time, River Cartwright pokes his head in with nervous eyes.

Lamb doesn’t even look over. He’s never surprised by the interruption of ineptitude. 

“Um…” Cartwright begins.

“What do you want, Cartwright?” Lamb still doesn’t take his eyes off the girl.

“You told me to bring your car around and wait for you. That was 30 minutes ago,” Cartwright reminds him.

Lamb looks across to Cartwright, and his demeanor suddenly changes. He goes from arrogant playboy to irritable, annoyed chief in seconds. And it's all for show. He doesn't want Cartwright thinking he's been flirting with a girl, even if he’d actually rather be flirting with a girl. "Get my car to the front. I'll be down in a minute."

Cartwright disappears, and Adelaide shakes her head with a “tsk tsk.” “So you’re out in the field today? Time’s really ticking on that bath. I bet you’ll show up at 7 tonight looking just like you do now. Only with maybe a few extra stains from lunch.”

"Oh, I'm sure the stains won't be a problem for you." His tone is smug again. He knows he's already got her under his spell. And there she is, biting her nail, again.

“As a matter of fact it will,” she snaps back. “No bath, no drink.”

"Are you telling me you'd actually turn me down if I was still dirty?” he asks incredulously. “It's not like you're the epitome of cleanliness. That nail is getting shorter by the minute, you know."

“I’m dirty from cleaning decades of muck up from this shithole,” she says with rolled eyes. “Believe me, I pretty-up quite a bit before I go out for drinks.”

He props his feet up on his desk, revealing a big toe poking through an undoubtedly putrid old sock. "So you're saying you're planning to get washed and ready tonight for your hot date?” he teases her. “That's good to know."

“You’ll take one whiff and wish you could drown in me,” she promises.

"Is that a challenge?" Lamb raises an eyebrow, as the girl is clearly trying to flirt with him now. He can practically hear her heartbeat through the air between them.

“A challenge on who will smell the best? Or a challenge not to drown in me?” she clarifies.

"Either one," Lamb grins, enjoying this. It's good to flirt again. The girl is attractive– beyond attractive. And witty enough to keep him from boredom. “I guess both."

She grins back. “River Cartwright’s waiting.”

Lamb's face hardens abruptly. "Fuck River Cartwright. He's still there?"

She laughs, aghast. “In your car, Lamb. Christ, you’re really slipping, aren’t you?”

"No I'm not,” he insists. “He's... he's..." It's hard to think clearly. The girl has thrown him off his usual game. He's finding her extremely distracting. And to have something like a bath waiting for him at the end of the day is just unbearable. This girl might be the end of him.

She's looking at me with those big innocent eyes. She's biting her lip again. And that nail is almost gnawed all the way down to the knuckle . 

She's going to make him lose focus, and it's driving him mad.

“Go to work, Lamb. I’ll see you somewhere at 7. Where are we drinking?”

"Anywhere's good. What about the Gristle?" It's a nearby pub he knows she'll like. It's dark and moody - and it has a billiard table - but he also knows it'll cost about £20 to get into the place with his stink. At least he'll probably be able to get her to pay for the first round.

She shrugs. “Sounds fine. I’ll see you then. If I recognize you, of course.”

"You might remember me as the guy with all the charisma, whom you had a long, suggestive conversation with earlier,” muses Lamb. “The guy you're almost definitely going to sleep with later."

Adelaide snorts. “You’d be so lucky.”

He winks. "Oh, I don't think it's me that'll be the lucky one. I think you might even think I'm a little bit handsome after a couple of drinks. Though you might not admit that."

She crosses her arms defiantly. “I would say I’m eager to find out how you think I look after two drinks, but you could probably tell me that right now. I’m assuming you’ve already imbibed this morning?”

He slaps the desk and stands. "You're damn right I've imbibed this morning. I drank enough to make your knees shake and your tongue curl. I'm going to need a bath just to sober up.”

“Bath— good. Work also good. Go find River.”

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Don't give me any more orders or we'll forget that date altogether."

She laughs lightly. “Yes, sir.”

"Don’t suck up to me, buttercup. I've already got the date. Besides… if we’re playing that game, I think I’d fancy ‘Master’ or ‘Daddy’... anything other than Sir. You’re not one of these lame fuckups around here, so don’t refer to me like you’re one. Got it?"

She blushes a deep red at this but says nothing, simply waiting for him to go off to the field.

Lamb gives a little smirk, which makes her blush even harder. Then he looks her up and down. He enjoys the way she blushes. "I expect to see you tonight, then?" he demands.

She nods. “7. The Gristle. We’ll both clean up.”

"No need for you to clean up. I'll enjoy you either way." Lamb doesn't care how it sounds. This girl is going to get what she asks for, and then he's going to have what he wants too. There'd be no need to clean anything up, as far as he's concerned. But he's not going to say that to her face; he’ll just string her along thinking she’s won… for now.

[rxgueone]

TANG

Word count: 3,618

Pairing: Elvis!Austin x oc

Summary: A story based in the late 60s, Austin who works for a famous man, sees a girl in need of help, to which he comes to her aid.

Warnings: fluff, angst (?), age gap, smut is mentioned, cigarettes, smoking, hippies, and cursing.

Tags: none.

Note: This story is shit, but I had to get sumn out this week. If Tumblr deletes paragraphs. I’m gonna lose it.

MASTERLIST

—

Opening the door to the house, the tall figure had his hand in his pocket. With his black hair greased back into a pomade, clean shaven face, he seemed ready for another day. As he entered the house, he was greeted with his boss. “There you are, Austin!” Hearing a boastful voice. He meekly looked to where the voice was coming from. “You know them hippies was here last night, smokin’ pot down the damn street or sum’n like that.”

His boss, Colt. He was a nice guy. Tall, with tanned skin but blonde hair that was slicked back. Colt Turner was a famous guy. Real famous, and well, Austin worked for him. Always.

Colt had found Austin one day down the street, and thought that he was suited for some work. Austin at the time who was homeless, had figured it was a good idea. So he took the deal. What was the deal? If Austin could drive Colt around, take him to where he needed to be, make coffees for him and etc. then Austin would be payed.

Austin was allowed to drive Colt’s car anytime he wanted to. Colt didn’t mind, in fact, he actually encouraged his friend to do it. Austin was the only person allowed to touch Colt’s beautiful and well maintained car. Anyone else who touched it without Colt’s or Austin’s permission, Austin was pretty much obligated to punch them.

Colt met Austin when he was in his late teenage years, and now Austin was reaching his late twenties, while Colt was reaching his forties. In spite of having to work for Colt for such a long time. Austin trusted Colt with his life, and it was the same for Colt. They both would probably risk their lives for each other.

“Should’a been here, I would’a gotten you to take care of em.” Colt said, when he took out a cigarette case from his pocket. Popped it into his mouth like usual and struck it lit with a lighter. Austin smirked, shaking his head, as he walked towards his friend. He approached the kitchen to where Colt was standing, seeing him holding a glass root beer bottle. He grabbed a bottle opener, snapping the cap off with ease then handing it to Austin.

“What’d you do?” Austin dipped his head in thanks when he took the bottle. “How’d you scare em off?”

“I didn’t. I’m too scared.” Colt smirked, shaking his head. Taking a drag from his cigarette, “You’re tougher than me Aus.”

“I’m a stick.”

“You ain’t a stick. You work out, I see you work out, you fix my roof n’ everything. You ain’t weak.” Colt was baffled by how Austin was underestimating himself. To which Austin shrugged, taking a swig at the root beer before walking back to the door of the house, Colt following right behind him.

Austin grabbed the keys to Colt’s car, which was a 1969 Dodge Charger. He walked over to the drivers side of the car, unlocking the door then pressed the button that allowed the passenger side to open. Colt swung the door open and they both sat down in their places. With the car roaring to life, he took the shifter in his hand and put it into reverse, Austin looked over his shoulder. Stomping on the gas, the car shot backwards, break, spun forward, shift into drive.

Colt’s back slammed against the car seat, he gagged from his cigarette almost going down his throat. “Holy shit Austin-“ he coughed out, looking at his buddy, “-you could at least fuckin warn me dude!”

“My bad.” Austin chuckled slyly, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. With his other hand on his side, eyes narrowed to focus on the road in front of him. Colt chuckled, leaning back as he shook his head. Both windows rolled down so when Colt could smoke, it wouldn’t fill the car up.

“Oh yeah Aus,” Colt looked over at his friend, and in response Austin glanced at him, “I bought a supercharger kit for the lady, I was wonderin’ if you could drop by home n’ make sure it’s arrived safely. Also a new camshaft.”

“Sure.” He shrugged, not minding a thing.

Austin pulled up to the building to where Colt worked. Popping the door open, Colt took one smooth motion to walk out. Leaning down to look at Austin through the open window, he held onto the door. “Oi take good care of her.”

“I treat lady better than I do my own.” Austin assured, and Colt smiled, patting the top of the door before pulling away to walk into the building. Austin raised a brow as he watched Colt. “Aye Colt!”

“Yeh?” Swiftly turning around to face him.

“Do you need more for the rest of the day?”

“No, do whatever you want. Good luck to ya.” Colt smiled, winking at Austin before he turned his back on him. Walking towards the door of the building and opened it to disappear inside.

Austin sniffled, rubbing his nose for a moment to process what he was going to do. “Well shoot alright.” He giggled like a school boy, starting the car back up. Slowly prowling back into traffic. He leaned over to the dash, deciding to blast the radio.

—

Austin had stopped by at a stop light, he looked through the windshield and could see a girl who was standing on the sidewalk with her thumb up. She was alone, and looked in need for a ride. He stared at her quietly, intrigued.

She was pretty, he couldn’t lie. But, she looked young, real young. He was curious, why was a young girl like her out on her own. Shouldn’t she have been in school? Where it looked like she belonged. Unless Austin was just assuming wrong, it didn’t answer the question why she was out in the street.

Well, this was the 60s, the late 60s, and many young people were homeless cause they chose to be. Hippies… hippies and sex. In spite of her being a hippie, and the stigma behind them. Austin couldn’t help but worry over her. He saw her at that spot every damn day, and he wondered if any men would take advantage her.

Austin could see the girl look over at him, instantly, a beaming smile flashed on her face. She waved at him, and he tilted his head towards her, waving. She pointed to herself, then down the street, the opposite direction where Austin was headed.

‘Wanna give me a ride?’

Austin shook his head, then pointed forward. ‘I can’t, heading that way.’ After that, he shrugged in sorry.

She pouted at him, expressing her sadness. Then mouthed the words, ‘how about next time?’

Austin glanced at the light, seeing how it was still red. Looking back at her, he gave a nod. Mouthing back to her, ‘when I got time for you.’ It was a firm nod, he knew he had to keep his word to her. She smiled, jumping up in joy. She had successfully read his lips, and just as the light shot green. The Charger prowled forward. He waved bye to her as he drove past, and she returned the wave.

Austin had rolled up to Colt’s driveway. Right as he rolled up, he spotted two boxes stacked that was just sitting in the middle of the driveway beside his own stink bug of a car. Austin raised a brow up, as he parked the Charger beside his own car. Popping the door open, shutting it, then locking it. He walked towards the box quietly with his hands in his back pockets. He could feel a few strands of his own hair loosen up in front of his face.

“Well shoot.” He looked down at the two boxes stacked on top of each other, seeing the name COLT TURNER. Leaning down, his arms wrapped around the box. It was a supercharger, and it was going to be the heaviest pile of dung heap in the world. So with as much strength as he could form, he swiftly picked it up. Stumbling a bit as he walked towards the door of Colt’s house. “Holy fuck.” He breathed, trembling from how heavy it was. He was practically holding a whole engine.

—

When Austin went to go pick up Colt from work. He could see the girl in the same spot, this time with what looked to be her friend. Who also looked way too young for her own good. Austin watched them both as they held out their thumbs, sitting on the bus bench.

The girl had turned around, seeing the similar black 1969 Dodge Charger, and when she peered inside. She could see the same man who looked like Elvis’ doppelgänger. As she looked at him, he looked back at her with a blank expression, a smirk slowly peering on his lips. “That’s the guy I was talking about Lila!” She exclaimed, nudging at her friend who looked off her rocker. The girl pointed to the doppelgänger, waving at him.

He smiled, waved back at her. She pointed to herself, with raised brows. He shook his head, pointing down the street. She flailed her arms, annoyed he had no time for her. He was a handsome man, and she wanted to see if she could get her way with him. He looked kindhearted too, looked like he was a good listener. Which was why she wanted to befriend him so badly. Maybe yap away if she could.

But to her dismay, he had shaken his head no. Then mouthed the words. ‘When I got time for you.’ Like always, every day. But she couldn’t lie, for a man as handsome as him, she’d wait willingly. He dipped his head, waving goodbye to her as he drove off, she jumped up and down, waving bye at him.

When Austin had went to go pick up Colt. He could see him holding a can of beer, and Austin knew he’d probably have to deal with an emotional Colt, cause when Colt drank, he was emotional. Meaning something at work as well went wrong. “Hey there Aus,” he greeted as he opened the door, sitting down in the passenger side.

“Hey Colt.” He smiled, seeing Colt take a drink from his beer can. “Bad day at work?” Looking over his shoulder to drive back in the street, when he didn’t hear an answer, his head turn to glance at Colt. “What? Samantha reject you again or somethin’?”

“Samantha is as crude as a woman gets Aus!” Colt complained. “Damn well threw her coffee at me and I needed a new suit and everythin’ man!”

“Why she throw her coffee at you?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know Aus sum’n ‘bout the damn editors, and that ain’t even in my department either! Sure I produce but fuck me, I don’t focus on the editors! She does! God dammit Aus, she’s a strange woman. I don’t even know why they hired her.” He wiped the sweat off his brow. Austin glanced at Colt, he wore a brown leather jacket, black shirt with some white slacks. “Fuckin’ hate producing movies with her!”

“Yeah I bet Colt… I bet… wanna watch The Good, The Bad, The Ugly back at home? Bet that’ll cheer you up.” He suggested, a cunning smile on his face.

“Good idea… I should’a thought of that.” Colt inhaled, nodding his head repeatedly. “I knew I could trust you!” Punching at Austin’s shoulder, he was laughing, happy that his best friend could always cheer him up.

—

The next day it was the same routine. Austin had dropped Colt off. And he told him. “Do whatever you want for the rest of the day. I don’t need ya. I’ll take Lady down by the shop to get that supercharger installed. So just explore ‘round, pick me up at nine.”

“Sure thing.” And Austin watched Colt walk off into the building. He said nothing but start the car back up, knowing damn well that if he ran into that hippie again, he’d have to give her a ride. Considering he would repeatedly promise to give her a ride.

And he did. He ran into her again, and she was sitting on that same bench. She waved at him once she spotted him, he waved at her. She pointed to herself, raised brows. He gave a nod, confirming he could give her some of his time. He could hear her squeal dancing around, wiggling her hips like there was no tomorrow. Kickin the sand around as she danced, the light green, he pulled over in front her.

She saw him stop the car in front of her. “Hey there.” She heard the casual greeting, as she had leaned down to look at him. She couldn’t help but smile at him, now up close he seemed more handsome.

“Hi,” she bit her lower lip nervously, twitching endlessly, “I see you finally made time for me!”

“Yeah, my boss says I can screw ‘round today before takin’ Lady down to the shop tomorrow.” He informed.

“Well… can I come in?”

He gave a nod. She swung the door open, plopping down in the passenger seat. She leaned up close to him instantly, he sat in the drivers seat, relaxed as her face was inches away from his. “Where you headed off to?” He asked her.

“Creek side.” She gave the simple answer.

“Oh.”

“It’s just down—“

“I know where it is.” He cut her off. She looked at him, surprised. But that smile remained on her face, and he smirked at her. “I’ll take you there no problem.” Merging back into traffic, sighing. “So,” he started as he glanced at her, “whad’ya do? Just hitch round all up in here all day? And you ask someone to take you to Creek side when you’re done?” He asked, genuinely curious.

“Well yeah, aw c’mon, tourists love me!” She laughed innocently at him. “They talk about me y’know? Tell people about that one pretty girl who made their ride the best experience they ever got! And an even better experience at Creek side.” She proclaimed confidently. Austin said nothing after that statement, simply shrugged and nodded along. Whatever you say. He thought to himself.

After a few miles of pure comfortable silence Austin had merged into the freeway. The girl had been staring the doppelgänger down intently, hadn’t yet learned his name yet. She could see how he had a clean shaven face, greased back black hair, one hand on the steering wheel of the car. He was bobbing his head to the radio, enjoying the sweet tunes that were playing. He wore a simple white shirt, jeans, with a belt and some cowboy boots.

Wanting to make conversation with him. “You remind me of Elvis.” She suddenly said.

Austin glanced at her. “The pomade?” He chuckled, quirking up a brow.

She gave a nod before leaning closer to him. “Only problem is,” she began, “is that your pomade unlike Elvis is messy.” Grabbing the loose hairs that was in his face, she slicked it back, then grabbed his face to force him to look at her.

His face was turned towards hers, but his eyes remained on the road. A small smile on her face as she let go so he could be fully focused on the road. She kept watching him drive. “Want me to suck your cock?”

He looked at her, raised brows at the sudden question. Licking his lips for a moment due to his amusement and not knowing how to react, he brought his hand to his mouth. His fingers rubbing his jawline, trying to hide his smile. She was bold, very bold. When he gave her another glance, her eager face distorted into a worried face, as if she was afraid that he’d reject her. “How old are you?”

“What?” She seemed offended by the question. “There’s no way you just asked me that.”

“How old are you?” Followed with a low chuckle. She could tell that he was serious. He shook his head, which caused her to believe he had already known.

“Wow man,” she thought about it for a moment. He was the first one to have ever asked her that in a long time. After maybe a hundred tourists it felt like, she was finally asked that. Shaking her head, “been a long time since someone asked me that.” She still didn’t answer his question.

He didn’t say anything but shake his head, amused by how she was avoiding his question. Glancing at her, he could see a hint of sadness in her eyes. As she watched him in those three seconds of silence, she had already went to the assumption that he was a good man. “Well,” deciding to press on, “I’m eighteen. There. Now can we get the show started?”

He revealed amused smile. Looking back at her with a face that showed he didn’t believe her for shit. “You got a drivers license? I need’a see sum’n that says you’re eighteen. Sure I’m givin’ you a ride but not that type of ride.”

She rolled her eyes, sitting back in the chair. “You’re obviously the fun one at parties huh?” She mocked, and he nodded his head. She kept looking at him, and now knowing that he wouldn’t lay a finger on her. She comfortably shifted in her spot, laying her head down on his lap.

He moved his hand out the way to let her, glancing down at her as she stared up at him in awe. “Why don’t you just do me? I mean, I’m sure Elvis would.”

“Because ma’am,” rolling his eyes, “if I’m ever gonna go to jail it ain’t because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants for some chic who keeps lying to me ‘bout her age so she gets in bed with me.” He said with a scoff. “And I ain’t Elvis.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I ain’t him, but I also ain’t like those stupid sons of bitches who take advantage of folk like you.”

“Folk like me? What? Hippies?” She wanted to clarify how he saw her, how he viewed people like her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you guys just got different beliefs. I ain’t gonna take that to my advantage. Most of you are young’uns.”

“You talk like you’re old.”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

“No you’re not.” She called his bluff. “You look like you’re some nineteen year old.” He scoffed but took it as a compliment. Reaching into his pocket to get out his wallet. He handed it to her, so she could take out his ID to look at it. She said nothing but take it, grabbing out his ID. She looked at the photo. He had a sultry look. With his lips slightly parted, dazed siren eyes. She kept looking at it, reading the information. “Name… Austin Butler, height is six-one, age is twenty-eight, sex is male… eye color gray…” she looked at his face to confirm that he had gray eyes. Which he did. Not only was he Elvis’ doppelgänger, but he even had the rarest eye color. Then looked back at the card, “…and Elvis’ doppelgänger.” She added. “Y’know, Austin Butler is a pretty badass name.”

“Badass?”

“Rolls right off the tongue.” She giggled childishly, kicking up her legs out of the car. “Austin Butler.” She repeated, still staring at his ID photo.

—

Pulling into the dirt lot of Creek side. He sat in the car for a moment, looking at the ranch site. He could see a few little sheds of the ranch that seemed occupied. Creek side was huge, it was like a little town actually in the eyes of Austin.

He looked at his surroundings, there were horses, cowboys, dogs walking around with old abandoned rusty cars, and of course, hippies as well. As he looked around with his eyes, he could see at least four of them were pregnant. Well, sex does make babies.

“Austin!”

His head shot towards the girl. “Hm?”

“C’mon.” She walked out the car. “I wanna introduce you to my friends!” She said eagerly. He sighed, hopping out the car and locking it like usual. He made his way towards the girl, and she reached out her hand. He took it, their fingers intertwining. She quickly walked forward, but he leaned back, slowing down her pace. Which had caused her to practically drag him behind her.

She was looking at her surroundings. So was he. And she saw at least only maybe 10-16 people there, when usually there was way more. “I wonder where everybody is.” She looked around, standing beside Austin, her hand still clutching his. “I mean, everyone is asking about this doppelgänger I keep talking about y’know.” As she kept walking around, she made her way towards another part of the ranch, a small little shop. Where a girl was walking towards her. And this girl looked to be a high schooler as well. “Hello!!” She called to them.

“Hey Connie!” The girl had ran towards them.

Connie let go of his hand, seeing that the girl wanted to embrace him, “Hey Angel.” They both exchanged a hug with a quick kiss. Austin slipped his hands into his pockets, watching them both quietly. “This is my friend Austin,” she looked up at Austin then at Angel. “The doppelgänger I keep tellin you guys about.”

“He does look like Elvis.” Angel looked at him up and down. “Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes.” Austin chuckled, his eyes looking at Connie then away from her.

[milkberryroll]

in a heartbeat.

She wants to blame herself for making him worried sick, for this. But, if he knew, he'd tell her she's the pot calling the kettle black.

also in AO3

Two gunshots ring in the middle of the night in Karakura. Hitsugaya Toshiro closes his eyes and accepts his fate.

Silence follows.

When he opens his eyes, expecting a bullet to hit him, he sees Kuchiki Rukia, gun in hand, and the shooter down, bullet to and through his skull. And his partner, in a sea of scarlet, holding him down to the ground.

The eerie tranquil is torn by a flurry of voices, panic and chaos.

"Officer down! Send an ambulance here to Mashiba Sakurabashi Intersection, near the middle school! Hurry!"

Toshiro becomes painfully aware of the blood soaking into his clothes, his hands painted red, and his partner's weakening grip on his shirt wth every passing second.

Applying pressure on her back, where the bullet came in, he tries to staunch the bleeding. It's working, barely.

"Kurosaki, you can't die on me. I've got you. Hold on. Please."

He thinks she shouldn't be this weak, her hands shouldn't feel this cold, and she shouldn't be dying here, in his arms, because he was about to get shot.

He shouldn't have had to see Karin, red spilling from her back like a waterfall, unable to breathe — bullet hitting lung, hitting her.

She shouldn't have gotten in the line of fire just to shield him from a bullet.

It should've been him.

Kurosaki Karin tries to reassure him, tell him she's fine. But her body betrays her, and everytime she opens her mouth to speak, she loses more air and blood.

The whole time he's waiting for an ambulance, he feels like it's torture.

//

She survives. But the doctors say she's lost too much blood. They don't know when she'll wake up, or if she'll be herself when she does.

It's a waiting game.

Yuzu places snapdragons in the vase of Karin's room. She says it's to give her room some color, and as a symbol of strength, much like her dear Karin.

Isshin and Ichigo arrange and rearrange the room, only allowed due to their connection to the hospital director. Karin can't have her room looking too plain, too sad, the two men say.

He asks Yuzu if he could do something, anything, to help. To make his sin lighter. He can't keep standing on one corner, doing nothing, again.

She tells him it's fine, and he needs to rest too. He needs to get a doctor's evaluation, too. He's got wounds and bruises, too. But he knows, she can only keep straining a smile for long. The dark circles under her eyes suggest everything else but fine.

All he wants is to apologize. To Yuzu, her brother, and father. Maybe they could ask him to pay for damages, at least.

Instead, Isshin invites him out of the room for a cigarette. He refuses the nicotine stick, but obliges to his offer for a walk.

"My daughter being someone who could sacrifice to save someone dear to her, son, it makes me proud. You shouldn't feel any guilt." Isshin tells Toshiro, gaze piercing, bringing him back to when he was a new officer under the older man's captaincy. Funny how the man has been retired for years and himself, now a lieutenant, yet the thought of him as his higher up feels as right as before.

"But, Sir, I—. I am to blame for this. No one else. It's only right that you do."

"Why would I? Even if I wanted to, I know Karin herself wouldn't.” Isshin takes a drag of his cigarette, lets the smoke fill his lungs, and lets it out.

Her family doesn't blame him. He wishes they did.

//

Toshiro types away forms after forms, fills paperwork after paperwork in his office desk. Stares at his computer monitor until his eyes water in retaliation.

His chief, Shunsui, delegates him to desk work. Says he's not fit for his usual suspect searching, criminal chasing work. He thinks its funny — he's not the one who got shot, and he's fine.

Much unlike Karin.

Breaking his thoughts, Rukia plops down a mug of warm, black coffee, along an egg and vegetable sandwich, beside his hand. Another one to the growing collection on his desk.

She knows she can't keep on feeding into his coffee binging, but he doesn't need berating now.

"That's with one sugar. Drink up."

"How'd you know?" He takes a sip, silently thanking the younger Kuchiki, soon to be Kurosaki, courtesy of Ichigo.

"Karin's mentioned it in passing before. Never thought her stories about you would come in handy." Rukia chuckles, while gathering her things, calling it a day.

She takes a glance at the younger man, looking tired and soulless. He's been working for 72 hours straight, only taking bathroom and coffee breaks. He looks. Unkempt.

"I'll visit her on the weekend." Toshiro says after a brief moment of silence.

"Sure, I'll tell Ichigo. You two should get some proper meals together. Please. Both of you need to eat." She taps on his shoulder to say goodbye.

"Oh, and. Take a rest. She wouldn't want to see you like this."

His hands stop moving. She leaves without him saying a word.

//

It takes months before she manages to open her eyes.

The first thing she sees is white. The walls, the ceiling, the gown she'd wearing, the blanket on her.

His hair. His lashes. His hands on hers. Pale, she notes.

Him.

Move, her brain commands her hand and all she manages was a twitch of a finger.

He doesn't miss it.

Scrambling, Toshiro immediately stands up, making sure she's awake, alive. She's alive.

"Kurosaki?" He calls her.

She manages to croak out his name, voice like sand and throat scratchy from disuse.

It's the happiest he's felt in weeks.

//

"You look. Disheveled." Karin comments.

"It's an image change." He strikes back, smirking. An attempt to keep himself from tearing up.

She laughs.

He's scared he's almost gotten used to him talking all by himself. Only her breaths and the beeping of the machine monitors greeting him back.

He's missed this — her candid quips, their banter. He's glad he can hear her now.

She coughs and chokes on her own saliva from laughing after weeks of disuse. He more than gladly fetches her a glass of water. She drinks it up like its her saving grace.

"Thanks, Toshiro." She places the glass on the desk beside her, watching as Toshiro sits on the chair beside her bed.

"I should be the one thanking you." He says as he helps Karin sit back down on the inclined bed.

"What for?"

"Saving me."

"I only did what I had to do, Toshiro. It's nothing special."

He places a hand on her hers. She feels it trembling.

"I... was scared to lose you, Kurosaki. You could've —" It dissolves in his throat, her and that word in the same sentence just doesn't sit right with him.

"Died?" She finishes it for him.

He takes her into his embrace, and suddenly all feels right in the world.

She's here, she's alright.

He nods in confirmation, and buries his head in the bend between her neck and shoulder.

Her chest tightens, and her breathing quickens. Her wounds ache, but she pays it no mind.

"I know." She squeezes him back, accepts and receives him.

I'm still here. She leaves them unsaid, and rubs circles on his back for comfort.

Toshiro mumbles words of apology with his lips grazing her skin. She ignores the feeling of warmth spreading on her neck and asks him why.

"You're here because of me. It should've been me."

Karin breaks herself free from his hold, and grabs his collar, pulling him close.

"You weren't the one who shot me, Hitsugaya Toshiro. So shut up, and listen to me."

She holds his face and seizes his lips with her own, chapped as they were.

He doesn't hate it.

"I did it not only because I had to. I wanted to, Toshiro. My only thought was to protect you." She says after she breaks the kiss. Toshiro immediately misses the feel of her mouth on his.

“And I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.” She caresses his face and smiles at him, driving her point home.

Toshiro dives in to take a taste of her lips again, vowing himself to her, from this point on. He feels whole, like she was the missing piece to his self and he can never let go.

He holds her in his arms tighter, and listens to her little noises as she tries to breath with her mouth locked with his, and their tongues tangled.

He has half a mind to stop with his ministrations, reminding himself his partner is currently in recovery. He very much wishes she was in perfect health, though.

He settles for a hug, with her head on his chest. She clutches onto him like a lifeline, trying to hide the rouge warmth of her face.

With her in his nuzzle, she notices how much thinner he's gotten. She wants to blame herself for making him worried sick, for this. But, if he knew, he'd tell her she's the pot calling the kettle black.

"Do not do this again, Toshiro. Stop blaming yourself. No one would want to see you beat yourself over this."

Not me.

"Don't hope for a repeat of this, Kurosaki. Just stay alive."

Please.

Karin only smiles at him without a word, despite waves crashing on rocks — his eyes locked onto hers, pleading, asking.

She doesn't make promises she's not sure she can keep, after all.