#but fun ones which moved along at a good pace

[woodelf68]

As far as the limited time goes, Young Adult novels tend to be a bit shorter and a quicker read. I've also found comic fantasy is very easy to get into and read quickly, stuff like Terry Pratchett's Discworld series or Tom Holt or Craig Shaw Gardner. Or books of comedy essays, where every chapter is complete unto itself, perfect if you've only got small bits of time to read like during your lunch break at work. Dave Barry and Patrick F. McManus are both highly entertaining American writers of that genre, in my opinion. Helene Hanff wrote very engaging personal memoirs as well that are very easily picked up and gotten into as well.

Do you have any advice on picking books for readers with limited time? I love to read, but in the past couple years I've been dissatisfied with almost everything I've read and I've purposely been trying to pick a variety: obscure, best-sellers, internet-recs, vintage, recents and I can't seem to pick well. I know the key to finding more good things is to read more quantity, but I've only got so much free time and can only read so fast.

Oh I feel you! There was a whole period of my life when I was desperately trying to find some alchemical formula to ensure that most of the books I read are good-to-great rather than okay-to-good. I had this scientific process where I tried to log a lot of details about the books I read and then look at the numbers year after year to find a common denominator. Is it a matter of reading more, or is it reading more older books vs. recent ones, male vs. female authors, books from my to-read list vs. impulsive reads, books recommended by friends vs. books I find myself? etc. etc. I made line graphs.

In the end the only factor that seemed to correlate with how many good books I read in a year was the number of unfinished reads, so the one piece of advice I have is to not hesitate to give up on a book you're not enjoying. I read multiple books at a time so it's easy to see if there's one that I keep neglecting in favour of the others; and I get most of my books for free or very cheap (from my local library, or OpenLibrary or Zlibrary, or secondhand bookshops where they're like 50cts apiece, or swapping books with friends), the ones I buy new are mostly books I've already read & enjoyed, so I don't have qualms about giving up 20 pages in if I'm not feeling it.

Other than that, I've kind of made my peace with the fact that finding a good book is a mysterious serendipitous process and most of the books I read will be just okay, plus a few bad ones and some great ones.

That said if most books you read end up being unsatisfying rather than at least okay, maybe you're not sure what you're looking for? It helps to identify what you want from a book at a particular time (fun escapism, learning more about a given topic, immersion in a specific atmosphere and if so, which one...) I tend to start a new read with a precise idea of what it would take for this book to be satisfying, e.g. "rn I feel like reading about someone's quiet daily life, maybe a diary or letters, set in a place or context I don't know much about, without turmoil or tragedy" or "a story set in the 17/1800s with flowery prose, interesting female characters, focused on intricate social shenanigans rather than romance or adventure" etc, so it allows me to narrow things down and eliminate potential reads where too many criteria are missing.

And I like to read a few 1-star goodreads reviews—some prefer to focus on 3-star reviews which are more balanced; personally I figure, if the people who hated this book the most cite reasons for disliking it that aren’t dealbreakers for me, that’s a good sign. And if the worst reviews cite stuff I'm actually looking for right now ("too long, too many digressions, long-winded prose, too quiet / not enough action", etc) then it’s a book that comes recommended both by 5-star and 1-star reviewers :)

[applescabs]

WE'RE FINALLY DONE WITH TACTICAAAA AGHAGHHS

[thewispsings]

elevators and fears (redbull!driver)

pairing. max verstappen x reader x charles leclerc

summary: redbull!reader gets stuck in a elevator with her teammate, max verstappen, and charles leclerc.

notes. first oneshot of my redbull!reader, hope you enjoy :)

redbull!reader masterlist

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Elevators were a dangerous thing, and you found it strange how underestimated they were. They move at an unsafe speed, it could malfunction at any time, and they get stuck in between floors more often than people thought. 

Being a Formula One driver, constantly traveling around the world meant you spent more than enough time in hotels, which meant, you spent more than enough time in elevators. 

Your fear of elevators wasn't something you talked about often, it was something private, or more so embarrassing. And you didn't want anyone to tease you about it. It would probably be like the time you told Charles you might, sorta, kinda, have a fear of planes. Next thing you knew, you were jumping out of a plane with a parachute attached to your back. Your team thought it would be a good idea so you would, ‘get over your fear’ You didn't talk to Charles and his blabber mouth for two weeks after that.

So when you stayed in hotels, you always took the stairs. You killed two birds with one stone, you worked out, kept your weight down, and stayed away from the death machine. 

Normally you would leave the paddock alone, leaving Max and Cheo there, while you tucked in early.

This time it was different, it was the Mexican Grand Prix, one of your favorites, the culture, the passion, and the fun. However, that also meant that you were worn out by the time the interviews were wrapped up. Max normally wasn't, he could talk with the people at the paddock for hours, but he didn't this time.

He insisted on joining you on the way back to the hotel, you would never deny his company, so together you made your way back to the hotel. It was late at night, the streets were empty, and both you and Max talked as you walked, your managers along with some cameramen trailed behind you two. 

Halfway through the walk, you stumbled across Charles and his team, you three found a pace and walked together all the rest of the short walk.

You were exhausted by the time you arrived, and all you wanted to do was sleep. So politely you said goodbye to your managers, who decided to spend some more time down at the bar.

You were walking towards the hotel stairs, not realizing both Max and Charles were hot on your tail. 

“Where are you going?” Max questioned behind you. 

You paused, closing your eyes tightly before turning to the two men in confusion, you thought they were going down to the bar with the others, “Uh,” you glanced over the elevator, where a group of Red Bull workers, (you could tell because of their shirts) were exiting out of. “Up to my room.” 

Charles tilted his head, “But you were going to the stairs.”

You nodded slowly, taking the time to answer, “Yeah, I thought I would take a quick workout, you know.” 

Max furrowed his eyebrows, he always hated it when you overworked yourself, “You worked out this morning.” “You can never work out enough.” you shrugged. 

“Yes, you can.” Max stood firm.

You two stared at each other for a moment, you saw Charles turn to you, before turning to Max, and then turning to you, he reached over for your hand and took it, walking you over to the elevator, not noticing your horror-filled eyes. You felt Max trail behind you. 

“You guys have crazy tension,” Charles commented as you watched the elevator doors close in front of you, it was like slow motion, it was like the doors were teasing you. 

You hadn't been in an elevator in over three months at this point, you felt your heart drop, you gripped the wall handle tightly, feeling the metal dig into your skin, you took a deep breath trying to stay calm. “Like you and Max don't?" 

Shouts of disagreement came from the two men, thankfully you three were the only ones in the death machine, Max reached over and pressed the ‘9th-floor’ button, “Not romantic tension.” he grumbled. 

“We have romantic tension?” you teased, trying to distract yourself from the feeling of the elevator starting up.

Max glared at you mockingly, Charles stared down at you in concern, his eyes following to where you were gripping the handlebar in what seemed to be despair, your body pressing itself against the wall, “Are you okay?” 

You swallowed thickly, and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I just really wanted to take the stairs, you know…for the workout.” 

“What is it with you and working out? Did someone say something about you needing to lose weight? Because if they did, I swear to–” a blood-curling scream erupted from your lips, interrupting Max’s sentence, when the elevator suddenly stopped, jolting you forward before throwing you back into the wall.

“Holy shit.” you gasped looking up at the flickering lights. “What happened?” you turned to Charles, your voice dripping with desperation. 

The other two men did not seem half as concerned as you, as Charles looked up with a small frown, “Hm.” he hummed, “I think the elevator stopped.” 

Max nodded with an eye roll, “Yeah I think so too.” 

You groaned, sliding down onto the floor with tears welding up in your eyes. This was it. You were going to die. 

Charles instantly fell to the floor with you, questions spewing out of his mouth, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Oh, please don't cry.” 

Max kneeled behind him, a deep frown on his face. “We're going to die.” you whimpered, hands desperately clinging to the floor.

Max shook his head, reaching over to hold your hand, “No we're not.” He pulled you up slowly, "It's just a stopped elevator, we'll be fine.” 

You shook your head vigorously, “No. No. We're going to die. We're going to die in this stupid elevator, and I'm never going to win a world championship, or win multiple champions, or win the most championships.” you groaned, “Oh god I'm never going to win a world championship.”

Charles hid his amused smile behind his hand, “We are going to get out,” he pulled on the emergency button multiple times,” See, they’ll come get us out soon…and you’ll win a world championship. Trust me.”

You shook your head, but didnt say any more, Charles and Max both watched you, holding in their laughs until they physically couldn’t anymore. Charles was the first to break. 

You watched in offense as Charles doubled over in laughter, “Are you laughing at me?”

Charles tried to sober up, shaking his hand, “No. No.” you scoffed rolling your eyes, Charles walked over to you, bringing you into a hug, “I’m not I swear.” he exchanged a look with Max. “It’s just… you’re scared of elevators?” he giggled once more. 

You pushed him off you lightly, “Shut up before I don’t talk to you for two months this time.” 

That certainly got him quiet. 

You looked around the elevator, avoiding eye contact with Max, your palms sweating. “Shut up Max,” you grumbled, hearing him finally break into laughter. 

“How did I not know you are scared of elevators?” he chuckled, you shot a sharp look to Charles, who avoided eye contact.  

“Because the last time I told someone what I was scared of, I was thrown out of a plane.”

Max gasped, a thoughtful look on his face, “I remember that!” 

Normally you would have laughed at the adorable look on Max’s face, but you were too busy fearing for your life. 

“Wait.” Charles butt in, “I’ve seen you ride elevators before.”

You gave him a strange look, shaking your head, “No. You haven’t.” 

Charles hummed, squinting his eyes. Max turned to you with his head titled, “Wait. So you just take the stairs, like all the time?” 

You nod, wondering why the maintenance people were taking so long. 

“Even at your apartment?” Charles gasped. You nod again, “But you live on the tenth floor?” Max’s eyes were wide, he had done that climb, you both lived at the same apartment building, on the same floor, and it was hell. He refused to work out for a week after that. 

“Why do you think my quads are so strong?” You teased, both Max and Charles took a look at your thighs simultaneously, letting out sounds of approval. 

“Wow.” Charles gazed in amazement, “Maybe I should start taking the stairs.” 

“But how come I’ve never seen you take the stairs?” Max asked. 

“Have you ever taken the stairs before Max?” You asked slowly, he shook his head, answering, “Only once.”

“That’s why.” 

The next few moments were silent, you kept your eyes shut, while Max and Charles took the opportunity to take photos of your–what they deemed–‘cute’ face. 

Your freakout was cut off by the sound of loud yells coming from above you. 

“You guys okay in there?” You heard a gruff, muffled voice.

“Yes!” Both Max and Charles coursed, while you did the opposite, “No!” you whispered, clinging onto the wall harder. 

Both Max and Charles stood by your side, rolling their eyes, “We’re okay.” Charles assured the man, “When can you get us out?” he glanced down at you, worried, yes he teased, but he nor Max wanted to see you have a panic attack, which you looked on the verge of. 

“Soon.” was all the man replied before he went silent for ten minutes. 

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋

Stepping out of the elevator, you had never been so relieved, you had nearly kissed the floor in happiness, although your tear-stained face was more than embarrassing, especially since the firefighter who had got you out, asked for a picture. Perfectly capturing your humiliation. Charles and Max looked perfect, what’s new, but you? Hair Deshilved, eyes red, and a frown on your face. Yeah, you were not going to live this down. By this time tomorrow, everyone will be talking about the elevator incident. 

You had spent no more time than needed before you made your way to your room, taking a quick, hot shower, before slipping on your pajamas. 

You were snuggled into bed, kicking your feet under the sheets, happy to be comfortable and cozy, and not stuck in a metal box.

A knock on your door ruined it. You groaned, swatting off your bed sheets before hurrying over to the door, “What?” you snapped, swinging the door wide open. 

On the other side stood Max and Charles, in their pajamas, holding a pillow in their right hand, and a blanket in their left. You sighed. 

“Can we sleep over?” Max asked slowly, lifting his pillow slightly. 

You said nothing, you just opened the door wider and stepped to the side, the boys shared a smile before practically running into your room. 

You closed the door slowly, letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. 

Walking back into the room, you saw Max and Charles, sitting on the ends of the bed, both wrapped up in their blankets. This wasn’t an odd occurrence. You had sleepovers with them, along with others, for more times than you could count.

Max patted the middle of the bed with a giddy smile. You slipped under the covers, pulling the blanket up to your neck. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. The two boys provided more than enough warmth from your sides. 

“Why didnt you tell us you were scared of elevators?” Charles broke the silence, you opened one eye, peeking up at him. 

“Because it’s embarrassing.” You murmured. 

“I mean yeah.” Max joined, “But you still could have told us,” he glanced at Charles, “Or at least you could have told me.” 

“There’s no point.” you shrugged, “It’s a fear, there’s nothing you can do.”  

“We could have tried therapy.” Charles tried. 

“God no.” you groaned, “The press would have a field day with that.”

Max rolled his eyes, “Stop worrying about the press, they don’t matter, and therapy could help.” 

“Yeah, or like hypnosis.” Charles beamed. 

“You believe in that?” You looked up at Charles with a raised brow, before shaking your head. “It’s fine, guys. I promise.” Although you couldn’t deny how special it made you feel that they were worrying this much about you. 

“How about we try taking it slow.” Charles suggested, “Like a small, one-level trip at a time.” That sounded awful, but if they were willing to help, you had to be willing to try, if you were honest, taking the stairs all the time was staring to become exhausting, even if it did make your legs looks great.

You sighed, nodded, “Okay.” before quickly adding, “But not this week. Next week?” 

Charles laughed, and nodded, “We’ll start next week, right Max?” 

Hearing no reply, you both turned to Max, who had his mouth open, eyes closed, and small huffs leaving his mouth, asleep, “That’s cute.” you whispered. 

Charles scoffed, before letting a small nod of agreement. “I’m cuter though.” 

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 4

4th — cockwarming, Max Verstappen

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Prompt: You are an actress and have been in a relationship with Max for a while. You have been trying to learn all your lines in the upcoming movie, and since this time of the year is off-time, which means no racing for a few weeks for Max, he volunteered to help you remember your lines and practice it with you. 

You and Max sat on the couch together in their comfortable living room. Max had a script in his hand, and the other one was in yours. "Okay, ready to start?" Max asked, a slight smile on his face. You nodded, a look of determination on your face. "Ready as I'll ever be," you replied. Max chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll help you remember your lines. You've got this."

Sometimes you would stumble over a word or phrase, but Max was there to help you through it. He would gently correct or repeat the line if you forgot it completely. "Schatz, there’s another fun way to rehearse all these lines, and you can even memorise it faster. Take a break and meet me in the office.” 

Max's proposal piqued your interest and curiosity. You couldn't help but wonder what new method he had in mind to help you remember your lines more effectively.

With a nod, you got up from the couch and headed towards the office. You found Max already there, waiting for you.

He waves you over to where he’s sitting on his desk chair, motioning for you to sit on his lap. You look at him, confused for a moment, before doing as he wordlessly asked. 

“What are we doing? I thought you would help me with the script.” you half laugh, half ask curiously.

You can feel Max fumble his hands behind you, his cold watch brushing against the warm skin of your tailbone that’s exposed from your dress.

“I’m helping you to study it better with some motivation.” He whispered to your ears. 

You hear his zipper come undone, and that’s when you realize what he’s wanting. Max adjusts you on his lap so you’re hovering, and he aligns his length with your clothed entrance, teasing your clit through your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side with his fingers, allowing his tip to brush against your wetness. You slowly push yourself onto him, and Max guides himself into you at a snail’s pace. You aren’t quite wet enough yet, so he takes his time. Once he’s wholly sheathed inside your warmth, Max grabs your hips so you can’t move.

“I want you to just sit here and be a good girl while learning, alright?”

“That’s kind of hard with you inside me, Maxie .”

“You can do it, baby. You’re so good for me.”

You aren’t sure what you’d do if you had to act normal while Max’s thick, now-throbbing length is being squeezed by your walls. 

He grunts softly as you shift a little, and he kisses your neck, nipping and sucking on your skin. Max's trying to distract himself by reading the script. "Act 1, Scene 1... Oh, god, you're getting wetter, aren't you?" 

​​He starts moving his hips slowly, pushing himself in and out of you, his thick length stretching you open with each movement. He keeps his hand on your hip, holding you in place as he sets a slow, steady pace. "Focus, baby... Focus on the script..."

Max thrusts into you, disguising it as a minor shifting in his chair, and you have to clear your throat to stifle a moan, “Uh … Oh, a chapel. Do…Do you think dad will be able to cross the threshold,” you try to read the line outloud. 

“You are doing great, Schatzi. Can you go on.”

“Of course,” you nod your head, rubbing your palm along Max’s thigh out of sight. 

Max's breath hitches slightly at your touch, but he keeps his face neutral, continuing with the script. "That’s a good question…" He punctuates each phrase with a measured thrust, maintaining the facade of simply coaching you through the scene. His voice grows huskier.

You begin to feel restless on Max’s cock, wishing for nothing more than to fuck him senseless. You want to end your learning session, spin around, and bounce on him for hours. But of course, until he gives the word, you can’t move. Max's intense gaze bores into you as he slowly trails a finger along your jawline. 

“Please,” you whimper, “Let me move.” “Then move.”

With his permission, Max's hands move to your backside, gripping firmly as he helps guide your movements. His hips thrust up to meet yours, the two of you finding a rhythm together. The sound of your labored breaths and wet, slapping bodies fills the room, the script is long forgotten on the desk.

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[yoongis-black-grilfriend]

Mothers Night Out

Warnings: SMUT, oral, lactation, toxic! rafe, car sex, penetrative sex, and breeding.

Ring Ring Ring

The sound comes blaring as you're face down in your pillow, head pounding a mile a minute. The ringtone continues to jingle you answer and put the phone to your ear.

“Hell-” You try to answer before the voice on the other line starts, “Why the hell am I over here watching our children while you're running around as if you don’t have any responsibilities in life?” The voice quickly cut in as you rolled your eyes.

“Rafe, it was one night out, what are you on about-” You were cut off again, the man on the other line not wanting to hear that. “NO, you told me that you were going to hang out with friends; NOT those fucking pogues and you know that”.

“Those pogues are my friends.” You start to say before he cuts you off, in his frustration.

“I don’t care. Get ready” he snapped. Before you could say anything else, the dial tone reached your ears as you sat up in the bed you were lying in, which happened to be John B's.

Ever since you became a mother you were dedicated to taking care of your children trying to be the best mother you could be for your little girls. You sacrificed everything for them, including your well-being. Your friends thought it would be a good idea to hang out last night since you have yet to have the time to genuinely hang out just as a group. Last night was fun. You all piled in John B’s living room playing drinking games and catching up on everything social that you might have missed.

“How are you doing in here sleepy head?” JJ leaned up against the door with a smile. “My head is killing me” You respond, messaging your head. “Well sorry to break it to you but your baby daddy is outside, so your hell awaits you”

“Ha ha, you are so funny.”

Gathering your things you throw a pillow at his head which he dodges with a smirk. “Kiss the girls for me!” He yells behind you as you make your way towards John B's door. “Will do!”

Wanting to say goodbye to everyone else you were met with disappointment as they were all still asleep. Walking out the door you are met with the father of your children leaning against a black truck with your door already opened.

Climbing into the truck, you close the door with Rafe following behind you. Looking behind you, you expect to see your baby girls in the back but you just met with their car seats. Looking to Rafe you ask. “Where are Whisper and Clover?” Looking at you he shakes his head.

“They're with Rose since you want to act like they don't exist.” “Rafe please don’t do this for the past six months I have been held up in the house” you breathe in, tears threatening to fall. “Taking care of our girls day in and day out so please don't act like me hanging out with my friends for one night makes me a terrible mother”

Regret flickers across his face as he reaches across the armrest and he takes your face in his hands, expression softening. “I didn't know you felt this lovely, I’m sorry I treated you that way. I was just upset because I thought you didn't want to spend any time with me.”

Moving his hands under your skirt to your thighs you gasp as his fingers barely graze your skin. His touch sends shivers down your spine and Rafe notices this with a smirk on his face. “Have I been neglecting you, baby?” He teases.

Pulling your legs apart, his tongue runs along your inner thighs while your breath starts to get shallow, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Please Rafe” You gasp as he continues sticking his tongue out it quickly dips into your folds, your head hitting the car window. His tongue moves at a regular pace while you feel your skin getting inflamed with the pleasure that you are receiving from your core.

Moving his head from side to side he groans as he pulls your hips impossibly closer to his face. “C'mon baby give it all to me.” “Ohhh fuck.” you groan, your body trembling with desire, as he pulls his head closer in between your legs your stomach starts to form a knot.

“Please- please don't stop” you begged, Rafe moaning into your pussy as you started to shake with your heels digging into his back. “I’m cumming, fuck!’ Crying out your back is arched as your white spot starts to blur your vision. Waves of pleasure begin to wash over you through your climax.

“Get in my lap lovely” Rafe murmurs. Blinded by the orgasm you just had you let him guide you into his lap, with his pants unzipped and his length hard as you feel it nudge your walls as you place your hand on your shoulders.

Bending his head he latches his mouth to your nipple gripping your hips as the sweet taste of your nectar fills his mouth greedily taking it in as he moves his cock inside of you as you slowly move back and forth on his lap.

Detaching his lips he attaches his mouth to yours and as you inhale the slight sweet taste of your milk you take his tongue in your mouth. His hips match your rhythm with the car moving side to side due to the impact of Rafe's thrust, each one bringing us closer to the edge.

“You are perfectly lovely please make me cum, inside of you let me give you another baby please!” he begs, tightening his hold on your hips. “Give me another daddy cum deep inside of me!” Gasping for breath, you wrap your arms around his neck burying your head in his shoulder. your orgasm splashing between the two of you, as Rafe’s cum fills you up.

With your mind in its dizzy state, Rafe guides you back to your seat buckling your seatbelt and finally pulling out of the chateau.

*Ding* The notification sound draws you to your phone and your face turns red with the message you read as Rafe busts out with laughter after reading the message on your phone.

JJ🦾:”I hope you know WE all saw that…“

[wileycap]

So, uh, Netflix Avatar, huh? Yeah. I guess I'll make a really long post about it because ATLA brainrot has is a cornerstone of my personality at this point.

So.

It's okay. B, maybe a C+.

That's it.

Now for the spoilers:

The biggest issue with the Netflix version is the pacing. Scenes come out of nowhere and many of the episodes are disjointed. Example: Aang escaping from Zuko's ship. We see him getting the key and going "aha!", and in the next scene he's in Zuko's room. And then he just runs out, no fun acrobatics or fights, and immediately they go to the Southern Air Temple where he sees Gyatso's corpse, goes into the Avatar state, and then sees Gyatso being really cheesy, comes out of it, and resolves that conflict. Nothing seems to lead into anything. The characters don't get to breathe.

The show's worst mistake (aside from Iroh fucking murdering Zhao) is its' first one: they start in the past. Instead of immediately introducing us to our main characters and dropping us into a world where we have a perfect dynamic where Aang doesn't know the current state of the world and Katara and Sokka don't know about the past, thus allowing for seamless and organic worldbuilding and exposition, they just... tell us. "Hey, this is what happened, ok, time for Aang!" There's no mystery, no intrigue, just a stream of information being shoved down the audience's throats and then onto the next set piece.

The visuals are for the most part great, but like with most Netflix productions, they just don't have great art direction. It feels like a video game cinematic, where everything is meant to be Maximum Cool - and none of the environments get to breathe. It's like they have tight indoor sets (with some great set design) and then they have a bunch of trailer shots. It's oozing with a kind of very superficial love.

Netflix still doesn't know how to do lighting, and with how disjointed the scenes are, the locations end up feeling like a parade of sets rather than actual cities or forests or temples. As for the costumes, Netflix still doesn't know how to do costumes that look like they're meant to be actually worn, so many of the characters seem weirdly uncomfortable, like they're afraid of creasing their pristine costumes.

The acting is decent to good, for the most part. I can't tell if the weaker moments come down to the actors or the direction and editing, but if I had to guess, I'd say the latter. Iroh and Katara are the weakest, Sokka is the most consistent, Zuko hits the mark most of the time, and Aang is okay. I liked Suki (though... she was weirdly horny? Like?) but Yue just fell kind of flat.

The tight fight choreography of the original is replaced with a bunch of spinny moves and Marvel fighting, though there are some moments of good choreography, like the Agni Kai between Ozai and Zuko (there's a million things I could say about how bad it was thematically, but this post is overly long already.) There's an actually hilarious moment in the first episode when Zuko is shooting down Aang, and he does jazz hands to charge up his attack.

Then there's the characters. Everybody feels very static - Zuko especially gets to have very little agency. A great example of that is the scene in which Iroh tells Lieutenant Jee the story of Zuko's scar.

In the original, it's a very intimate affair, and he doesn't lead the crew into any conclusions. Here, Iroh straight up tells the crew "you are the 41st, he saved your lives" and then the crew shows Zuko some love. A nice moment, but it feels unearned, when contrasted with the perfection of The Storm. In The Storm, Zuko's words and actions directly contradict each other, and Iroh's story gives the crew (and the audience) context as to why, which makes Zuko a compelling character. We get to piece it out along with them. Here - Iroh just flat out says it. He just says it, multiple times, to hammer in the point that hey, Zuko is Good Actually.

And then there's Iroh. You remember the kindly but powerful man who you can see gently nudging Zuko to his own conclusions? No, he's a pretty insecure dude who just tells Zuko that his daddy doesn't love him a lot and then he kills Zhao. Yeah. Iroh just plain kills Zhao dead. Why?

Iroh's characterization also makes Zuko come off as dumb - not just clueless and deluded, no, actually stupid. He constantly gets told that Iroh loves him and his dad doesn't, and he doesn't have any good answers for that, so he just... keeps on keeping on, I guess? This version of Zuko isn't conflicted and willfully ignorant like the OG, he's just... kind of stupid. He's not very compelling.

In the original, Zuko is well aware of Azula's status as the golden child. It motivates him - he twists it around to mean that he, through constant struggle, can become even stronger than her, than anyone. Here, Zhao tells him that "no, ur dad likes her better tee hee" and it's presented as some kind of a revelation. And then Iroh kills Zhao. I'm sorry I keep bringing that up, but it's just such an unforgiveable thematic fuckup that I have to. In the original, Zhao falls victim to his hubris, and Zuko gets to demonstrate his underlying compassion and nobility when he offers his hand to Zhao. Then we get some ambiguity in Zhao: does he refuse Zuko's hand because of his pride, or is it his final honorable action to not drag Zuko down with him? A mix of both? It's a great ending to his character. Here, he tries to backstab Zuko and then Iroh, who just sort of stood off to the side for five minutes, goes "oh well, it's murderin' time :)"

They mess with the worldbuilding in ways that didn't really need to be messed with. The Ice Moon "brings the spirit world and the mortal world closer together"? Give me a break. That's something you made up, as opposed to the millenia of cultural relevance that the Solstice has. That's bad, guys. You replaced something real with something you just hastily made up. There's a lot of that. We DID NOT need any backstory for Koh, for one. And Katara and Sokka certainly didn't need to be captured by Koh. I could go on and on, but again, this post is already way too long.

It's, um, very disappointing. A lot of telling and not very much showing, and I feel like all of the characters just... sort of end up in the same place they started out in. I feel like we don't see any of the characters grow: they're just told over and over again how they need to grow and what they need to do.

To sum it up: Netflix Avatar is a mile wide, but an inch deep.

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily

warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself

word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)

A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.

You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.

It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.

What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.

He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.

He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.

“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”

One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.

“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.

One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.

“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”

His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.

“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”

“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“

Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.

The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.

It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.

“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-

He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”

He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.

“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.

You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.

Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:

“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.

He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.

Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.

Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.

His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.

And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.

So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.

The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.

You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.

The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.

You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.

His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.

He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.

“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.

He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.

“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”

You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.

He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.

So that you knew what you were missing.

The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.

But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.

So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.

You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.

You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.

To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.

Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.

But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.

And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.

So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.

Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.

There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.

Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.

You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.

You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.

You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.

The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.

Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.

So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.

“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.

“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.

And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.

“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”

His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.

He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.

And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?

But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.

So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.

But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.

He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.

“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.

“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”

And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.

Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.

His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:

“Go out with me.”

He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.

“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.

“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.

“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”

“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.

He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.

“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.

“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.

He owes Steve.

For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.

He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.

When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.

The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.

Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.

You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.

It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.

As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.

Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.

“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.

“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.

You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.

“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”

You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.

You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.

You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.

It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.

The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there

Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.

“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.

“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.

“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.

“You remember that?”

“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”

The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.

“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.

He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.

“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.

The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.

You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.

It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.

Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.

Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.

When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.

He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.

All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.

He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.

He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.

His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.

And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?

The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.

This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.

He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.

Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.

“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.

“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.

He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.

“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”

“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”

“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.

“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.

Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.

You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.

A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.

He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.

“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.

“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.

The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.

And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.

“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.

He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.

He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.

“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.

“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.

“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”

They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.

You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.

The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.

His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.

Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.

You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.

You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.

He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.

You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.

“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.

Game on, Peña.

You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.

Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.

“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.

He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.

“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.

The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.

“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.

The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.

The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.

“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.

He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

He hopes you understand.

When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.

He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.

He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.

He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.

He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.

You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.

He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.

“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.

“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.

It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.

“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.

You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.

“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.

“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”

And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.

One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.

He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.

You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.

The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.

His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.

You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.

He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.

He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.

“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.

The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.

When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.

You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.

When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:

“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.

And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.

It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.

Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.

It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.

“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.

It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.

So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.

So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.

What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-

A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.

But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.

The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.

His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.

“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.

You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.

“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.

He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.

You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.

You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.

His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.

Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.

The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.

Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.

He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.

You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.

The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.

You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.

It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.

You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.

You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.

His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

[twitchmattentusiast]

｡°✩ BIRTHDAY BOY . . . . .ᐟ

- MATTHEW STURNIOLO.

parings. matthew sturniolo x female gf reader

❝ you're going to cum for me, aren't you? let me hear those sweet sounds. ❞

# warnings: birthday sex, morning sex, soft dom reader, sub(ish) bf matt, slight mommy kink at end.

matt has always been a deep sleeper.

whenever his brothers make fun of him for it, your boyfriend shakes his head, claiming that it’s not true and that he’s totally a light sleeper.

but as you sit on the edge of his bed, your hand running softly through his hair as you glance back down at matt, who’s still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath, even though you’ve trailed kisses around his face and leaned down to whisper in his ear twice, “happy birthday, baby,” it just proves that your boyfriend is a deep sleeper.

but that works in your favor this morning.

it’s matt’s 21st birthday, and you’ve been dating for the last three years, so you know the drill by now that chris and nick always immediately rush to matt’s room to wish him and each other a happy birthday. but this morning the other two seem to be in a deep sleep too.

it’s a peaceful morning, which is very rare in the sturniolo household; it's so rare. usually you're woken up by your boyfriend's brothers in the morning. you and your boyfriend not having a moment together until later because you're both literally forced out of bed, nick and chris pulling disgusted faces when you guys try to sneak a kiss while they push you out of matt’s bed.

so since chris and nick are asleep, you decide to relish in the fact of deciding to wake your boyfriend up in his favorite way.

“i got something special for you today, baby,” you whisper as you run your fingers along the lace trim of the new blue lace bra and matching panties you bought the other day. "i think you’re going to love it,” you smirk. 

you lean down slowly, starting to leave soft kisses on his collarbone. you watch as matt stirs slightly at the gentle kisses on his neck, a soft moan escaping his lips, and you’re sure he’s about to wake up, but he falls back asleep again, and you giggle. 

you take your time trailing kisses down his body, making sure to leave little trails of kisses down his skin.

as you continue to trail kisses down matt’s body, your hands start to explore as well. one hand gently traces the lines of his muscles while the other slips just over his boxers.

you look up at matt with half-lidded eyes, a coy smile playing on your lips as you slowly start to rub his length through the fabric of his boxers. "mmm... someone's excited to see me," you purr, your voice low and husky with desire. “let’s get these off, shall we?" with deft fingers, you hook your nails into the waistband of matt’s boxers and start to tug them down, revealing more of his hardening cock. 

you can’t help but chuckle at the sight of matt still sleeping soundly despite everything you’re doing. you lean down and give his tip a teasing lick, tasting him for the first time that morning. the taste sends a jolt straight to your core, causing you to grow wet. 

you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, giving it a final firm stroke before you lean down to take him fully into your mouth. at first, you bob your head down slowly, savoring the taste of him. you moan, “mmm, you taste so good, baby.” you murmur against his skin, your free hand moving to cup his balls and gently massage them. “could do this all day.” you whisper as matt begins to move in his sleep, letting out whimpers, which encourages you to pick up the pace. taking him deeper with each stroke. 

matt’s hips buck involuntarily as you takes him deeper, his whimpers turning to soft moans of pleasure as his eyes fly open and his hands come up to thread through your hair, tangling in the dark strands as he loses himself in the sensation of her warm, wet mouth engulfing him. “oh fuck baby" he gasps, not expecting to wake up to the sight of you in front of him with him in your mouth as you suck his cock hungrily.

matt quickly moved his hand towards your head, his fingers moving to your hair, where he fists a bunch of it in his hand, holding it tightly, his head thrown back as whimpers leave his mouth. 

feeling matt’s fingers tighten in your hair, you pull back slightly, allowing only the head of his cock to remain in your mouth. you gaze up at him, locking eyes once more as you swirl your tongue around the sensitive tip before taking him back into your mouth completely. “mmmm" you hums around him, sending vibrations through every inch of his cock.

matt grips your hair even tighter. “fuck baby, yeah, suck my cock just like that,” he moans. 

you him louder, the vibrations intensifying as you bob your head up and down on his cock. your hand joins in, stroking the base of his shaft while you suck on the head. you glance up at him through half-lidded eyes, smirking as you see how much pleasure you're giving him. "mmm... you're going to cum for me, aren't you? let me hear those sweet sounds," you tease.

the sight of you looking up at him with those half-lidded eyes, coupled with the feeling of your hand stroking his length and your mouth enveloping his cock, sends matt spiraling towards orgasm. he lets out a guttural groan, “yeah... fuck! i’m going to cum!” he warns you, his grip tightening even more in your hair as he prepares to release inside your eager mouth.

hearing matt’s warning, you quicken your pace, bobbing your head faster and taking him even deeper into your mouth. you hum loudly now, determined to draw out every last drop of cum from his throbbing member. "that’s right, baby... give it to me," you murmur around him, encouraging him further.

matt’s control snaps as you increase your pace, your mouth and hand working together to push him over the edge. with a loud roar, he spills his load into your waiting mouth, his hot seed filling her as you swallow eagerly. “fuck yes!” he exclaims, panting heavily as he rides out the waves of pleasure coursing through him.

still recovering from the intense orgasm, matt stares down at you with wide eyes filled with adoration and lust. “fuck baby,” he says breathlessly, reaching down to pull you up onto his lap so you can enjoy each other more intimately.

you grin and lean to peck matt on the lips. "happy birthday, baby."

matt wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he deepens your kiss. his tongue delves into your mouth, exploring every inch as he tastes himself on your lips. “waking up to birthday head?... best. birthday. ever.” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands roaming over your curves possessively. "look so hot in this,” he says, his eyes finally roaming over the new matching set you got.

you smirk. “you think so?”

matt nods, tracing a finger down the curve of your hip. “i love it,” he admits, his gaze lingering on the way the material clings to your curves. he leans in to press another kiss to your neck, nipping lightly at your skin. “but i think you'd look even hotter underneath me with my cock buried deep in you.”

you smirk as you notice that at some point matt had managed to switch positions, you underneath him as he hovered on top of you, trailing kisses down your neck. “mhm matt.” you moan, and he smirks because he’s always the one in control, so why wouldn’t he be on a day like this?

but you surprise him when seconds later you flip him over, appearing on top of him as you reveal a pair of handcuffs that were behind your back. matt’s breathing heavily now, watching you with lust-filled eyes as, with no explanation, you handcuff his hands together and then to the bed, moving down to take off his boxers, leaving him completely naked for you, completely at your mercy.

matt looks at you in confusion. confused because he doesn’t know when you got these handcuffs. confused because he doesn’t know what’s going on right now, even more confused because he doesn’t know when you decided you were taking control today (or ever), but he’s shocked at how much he likes it and how his cock is growing harder by the minute.

his eyebrows furrow. “baby wh-“

you place your finger on his lips. “sh baby.” you tell him, moving your finger slightly and trailing it at the bottom of his lip. smirking as you can feel his hard on pressing at the corner of your thigh.

“you’re going to be a good boy and let mommy take care of the birthday boy, hm?”

｡°✩

lowkk kinda hate this that’s why it’s so short. im a sucker for subby men especially sub matt so wanted to test this one out. i do have a part 2 where matts whimpering asking if he’s a good boy so let me know if yall want a part 2 !

[fangswbenefits]

Appreciation

Summary: Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

That 🎂 needs more appreciation! Mildly suggestive. Innuendo. Just having some fun. Inspired by this amazing fanart!

“You’re drooling.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

You gave Jessica Drew a side-glance. “Peter, tell her I’m not drooling.”

“You’re drooling.”

Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you heaved a sigh.

Miguel O’Hara had his back turned to you, and you just couldn’t tear your eyes from his glorious ass.

It should be illegal to wear something so tight around it, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Do you need some tissues just in case in?” Jess leaned in with a devious smile.

You growled in annoyance drumming your fingers on the table, which was enough to catch his attention. He turned around, facing away from the orange screens floating around his platform.

“Can you pay attention?” he asked, hands on his hips and crimson eyes narrowing.

The three of you nodded instantly and you straightened in your seat, inwardly mourning the loss of visual contact with his backside.

Peter was the next one to sigh, and Miguel scowled. “It’s important we go through these procedures. The fate—”

“—of the multiverse is important,” Peter then yawned from beside you. “Yeah. We know, we know.”

You giggled and saw Miguel scowling. “Leave. Go get ready for your reconnaissance mission, then.”

Jess and Peter didn’t need to be told twice and rose to their feet, heading towards the exit.

You were about to follow suit when Miguel’s voice was heard, “Not you.

Oh?

“You stay.”

Peter turned briefly and mouthed a ‘good luck’ before exiting, the door sliding shut behind them.

But what he didn’t know was that you had just struck gold.

You cheered inwardly, barely able to contain your excitement, as you sat on the table behind you, dangling your legs playfully.

Miguel paced slowly in your direction, face as serious as usual.

When he stopped right in front of you, you parted your legs, waiting for him to settle in between, which he promptly did.

“You are so frustrating.”

“Hmm?” you rose an eyebrow playfully.

To an outsider, it might seem like he was beyond annoyed.

He always strived to look serious and intimidating.

But you knew better.

“You you were supposed to be paying attention to what I was saying,” he whispered.

“In my defense, it was staring at me first,” you rose both hands in defense. “Not my fault.”

His eyes fell to your lips. “Ah. So you were staring.”

“Your ass is magnificent, Miguel,” you said with a click of your tongue. “What do you expect me to do?”

“Be more professional.”

You scoffed. “Says the man wearing a suit so tight we can see every single line of muscle.”

He chuckled and you did the same, enjoying the sound of his carefree voice.

“Can I touch it…” you asked with a devious smile.

He answered by grabbing both of your hands and setting them on his hips. “You don’t have to ask.”

You let your fingers trail down slowly behind him, grazing the material of his digital suit. Once you moved past the generous curve of his ass, you gave each cheek a gentle squeeze.

Everything was firm and in place, and you couldn’t stop yourself from massaging him with the palms of your hands.

“Does your suit need to be this tight?” you asked.

He slid the back of his index finger from your neck to rest under your chin, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “Aerodynamics.”

“You’re such a tease,” you mumbled.

He craned his neck to match your height. “Me?”

The pads of your fingers traced patterns along his taut muscles, and you were reminded of how lucky you were to have this all to yourself.

“I need your workout routine.”

He leaned in even closer. “I’ll show it to you, then.”

You hummed, his lips almost touching yours. “And is it hard?”

The pun didn’t go amiss and Miguel chuckled softly. “Depends on the position.”

“And then I get to have such an amazing ass?” you asked, squeezing him again with both hands.

His warm breath fanned your skin. “You do.”

You then narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re not scamming me, are you?”

Miguel’s lips grazed yours. “Scamming?”

Giving both his cheeks a few more squeezes, you straightened up.

“You sound like those shady fitness gurus from Earth-1610,” you feigned seriousness in your voice.

He surprised you by planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I would never scam you.”

Then another kiss.

“What you see is what you get.”

Your fingers curled harder this time into his hard muscle, drawing his lower half closer. “That sounded so shad-”

Miguel interrupted you with a kiss, bringing both hands to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks.

You melted into his touch, smiling but not breaking the kiss.

He was so easy to love.

Eventually, he managed to tear himself away with a genuine teasing smile. “Was that shady?”

You patted both of his cheeks lightly, enjoying the slapping sound. “I may need more convincing.”

Masterlist

[rileyslibrary]

HR thought it’d be a good idea to handcuff you and Ghost together as a team-building exercise. It wasn’t. Or was it?

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,345 (approx. 5-6 min reading time)

Notes:

Fluff and the typical shenanigans

Warnings: language, suggestive content

For @ddiamondsdancing, who inspired me through her story

More of these.

———————————————————————

He secures one end of the handcuffs to your wrist and adjusts them.

“Is it okay?” He asks.

“It’s beautiful, Lieutenant, you shouldn’t have,” you reply and flick your wrist.

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue and rolls his eyes.

“I mean, does it hurt?”

He’s one of the most feared men on the base, yet he worries about hurting you. That’s… new.

You twist the handcuff, and he advises against fidgeting too much, asking you to let him know if it hurts so he can readjust it.

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” you finally say.

“Good,” he responds and clicks the other end of the handcuff to his wrist, “shall we get going?”

You nod.

Things have started changing around the base since HR got their hands on your superiors. They switched their focus away from resorting to punishment and toward more effective ways of communication.

That was all good and fun until Captain Price and the other higher-ups decided that this training shouldn’t be limited to them alone. They believed that everyone at the base could benefit from the same approach.

And here comes today, where you find yourself assigned to Ghost as a buddy with a pair of handcuffs—key not included—and instructed to spend the entire day helping each other. Or torment. Whichever comes first. Or more naturally.

He starts walking, but his strides are so broad that you get dragged along.

“Can you—” you struggle to find the words while keeping up, “can you chill for a second?”

He stops in his tracks, which causes you to bump into his back. You look at him, annoyed, and he stares down at you.

“You need to slow your pace, Lieutenant.”

“You need to pick up yours.”

“I can’t lengthen my strides,” you explain, “but you can shorten yours.”

He looks down at his boots briefly and lets out a sharp chuckle. You wonder what’s going through his mind. He turns his feet outward like a ballerina and starts taking little steps forward.

“Are you mocking me, Lieutenant?” you ask.

“Do you walk like that?” he asks back.

“No.”

“Then no, I’m not mocking you,” he replies, although you can hear the amusement in his voice. He stops and turns to face you.

“Go on,” he says, gesturing with his head for you to move to the front, “you take the lead, and I’ll adjust my walk.”

The rest of the day wasn’t easy, but it was manageable.

You went to the training room, where you had to do the same exercises simultaneously and adjust to each other’s pace to get work done, except in some cases where the Lieutenant wanted to put in more reps. So you sat on the ground, cross-legged, with your hand attached to his, and waited until he finished his push-ups.

“Ready to hit the showers with me, Lieutenant?” You tease and anticipate his reaction.

He stands up and helps you off the ground.

“From bonding to bondage...” He says, and you immediately get flustered. You weren’t expecting this kind of reaction, that’s for sure.

“Tempting offer, soldier,” he says in a flirtatious tone, “but first, you have to tell me...”

He pauses and seizes you, looking at you from head to toe. Your heart beats so fast in your chest that you can feel your pulse in your throat and head.

“...how are you going to remove your shirt?” He asks and shakes your handcuffed hands.

Good question. But you won’t let logic, or Ghost, take hold of you now.

“When there is a will, there is a way, sir,” you reply. “I can cut through it.”

“And what about putting another shirt on afterwards?” he adds, raising an eyebrow. “Will you be sewing one back on?”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Always with the logistics, aren’t you?”

“Someone has to think ahead,” he explains, pulling you gently to keep moving, “just in case we have to explain to HR why we’re both handcuffed and naked.”

Touché.

You organised the warehouse for your next task, and the handcuffs forced you to communicate and collaborate more closely than ever before. Navigating through the cluttered aisles and shelves became a shared challenge. You relied on each other’s strengths to find the best way forward. Every movement had to be coordinated, and every decision was made together.

Even when you wanted to take a break and have a snack, he helped you by holding up your water bottle while you munched on your sandwich. It was as if the handcuffs became a synonym for unity and teamwork rather than restraint and suppression. You had to trust each other’s judgement and, by combining your resourcefulness, turn every obstacle into an opportunity.

Up until you had to pee.

“Can’t you hold it in?”

“Until the end of the day?” You ask, squeezing your legs together, “No way, Lt., sorry. I—we have to go now.”

“No wonder why,” he snaps and pulls you with him, “you drank the entire water bottle.”

“It was you who fed me the entire water bottle,” you snap back and follow him to the toilets. “You were squeezing too much water in my mouth—that’s why it went empty.”

You approach the bathroom stall and squeeze into one of the cubicles. Ghost looks away to allow you some privacy.

“Sir?” You ask, and he turns halfway.

“I need your hand; I mean my hand to unzip my pants.”

He lets out a long exhale and relaxes his arm, so you can use it as you wish. With his hand very close to your zip, you pull down your pants and squat.

But nothing’s coming out. You need more privacy, and unfortunately, under these circumstances, you had none. How didn’t HR think of that? The HR, of all the departments!

“You done?” He asks with his head facing the door.

“I haven’t started yet,” you explain. “I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable.”

“A couple of hours ago, you wanted to shower together, but now you’re uncomfortable peeing in my presence?”

“That’s different, Ghost; I think you know that.”

And, as if things weren’t awkward enough, someone knocks on your bathroom door. Ghost lifts his heels and peeks from the top of the door. He instinctively turns halfway to talk to you, but you kick him to look in front.

“It’s Janet from HR,” he jokingly tells you. “Want to say hi?”

“What the hell, Ghost?” You whisper, “Shut up.”

He chuckles and then turns to face her.

“Sorry, ma’am,” he apologises, “you’re going to have to find another loo; we’re trying to pee in this one.”

You glance at Ghost’s back, and your face flushes with embarrassment.

“We’re... experiencing a tiny issue, Janet,” you explain, “the handcuffs, you see...”

Before you can finish your explanation, Ghost interrupts you.

“It’s a team-building exercise, Janet!” He says in a threatening tone while peeking at Janet, who’s hurrying out of the bathroom, “We’re exploring new levels of trust and communication; ISN’T THAT WHAT YOU FUCKERS WANTED US TO DO?”

“GHOST!” You shout.

“What?” he asks, acting innocent. “They should have considered the consequences before implementing stupid shit.”

“Speaking of shit...”

“Don’t tell me you have to do that as well,” he says, throwing his head back. “We’re going to stay here forever.”

“No,” you reply, “I’m done—your feud with Janet helped me.”

With Ghost’s help, you zip up your pants, wash your hands—all four of them—and head to Price’s office, where you’re about to report how the team-building exercise went. In return, you will receive the key to your handcuffs.

You stand at the captain’s door with several other soldiers, handcuffed in pairs.

“I’ll miss you, Lt.,” you whisper, “my other half.”

He chuckles and shakes his head.

“No, really,” you continue, “who will I have now to unzip my pants when I want to pee and squeeze the fucking ocean in my mouth when I want water.”

“Don’t worry,” he replies, “I’m sure you’ll find another poor soul to torture.”

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“No,” he says, taking your hand discreetly and interlocking your fingers in his, “not one bit.”

———————————————————————

[fairlyang]

Sleeping Beauty🍷

w/c: 995

tags: 18+ smut!!! somnophilia (!!), dub-con (!!), established relationship, he’s down bad, force usage x2 (if you squint), unprotected sex, you wake up, creampie

a/n: still working on my 6K fic of ep6😵‍💫 (i’m going insane) in the meantime i might write more short smut drabbles like this for fun 🫶🏼

qimir slowly, and gently sliding inside you as your breathing slowed down and your eyes were barely able to stay open. his hand made its way to grab your waist while you let out little gasps, too tired to tell him to stop and because it felt too good.

add along the fact that you’ve both been wanting to dabble in somnophilia and have given him consent to do it when you’re sleeping, he took this opportunity.

you were going in and out of consciousness, sleeping calls to you with every flying second and you let it take over.

meanwhile qimir was now fully inside you. so warm and tight. you hugged him to perfection. he did slow and sensual thrusts, eyes rolling back because it was amazing.

he kept his moans as quiet as he could, biting on his bottom lip so he didn’t wake you. but then he realized if him fucking you wasn’t enough to keep you awake, then surely a few moans won’t wake you.

so he let out a few moans under his breath, grabbing your right leg and carefully moving it up so he could go deeper. you were laid on your side but now with your leg up, it gave him more room to fuck you how he wanted.

you were stirring in your sleep, letting out small whimpers which only drove him more feral. he was so ecstatic to finally indulge in one of your shared fantasies, he couldn’t help but change his pace to be slightly faster.

his thrusts were desperate. something about how you just fell asleep knowing he was inside you did something to him. and the fact that you’re yet to wake up.

a sleeping beauty in all her glory. you looked so peaceful, beautiful. as always. your beauty never fails to impress him and he was eternally grateful you were all his.

your breathing was somewhat steady but your pussy was clenching against him and there was already a white ring of cream around the base of his cock. even though you were unconscious your body still reacted the same way to his like when you’re awake. he groaned and closed his eyes, wanting to rely on the force alone to really feel you.

he always seemed to find himself using desire as the emotion to help him use the force. his desire for you was unlike any other so it just felt beyond perfect, he was speechless. his mind was clear and he could feel your own desire radiating off your body.

you always claimed you didn’t have a connection to the force, and your stubbornness would never let him help you nor venture past something as simple as sensing when he’s near. but when it came to moments like these it was painfully strong, another reason he was happy you were his.

you’d only be this way with him and if that was as far as your patience with the force ran, then he’d be content.

you were now slightly snoring which had him grinning ear to ear like a lovesick fool. he slowed down and went back to sensual thrusts, making sure you had every inch of him inside you.

he opened his eyes and looked down at your body, now noticing that your arousal was now dripping down to your asshole. “fuck-“ he muttered under his breath and felt himself twitch.

you stirred in your sleep and squirmed around only to just heighten the pleasure. he bit his lip and gripped your waist a little more while his right hand went to grab on to the back of your leg. he steadied himself and was trying to not just explode inside you that very second.

you suddenly just felt that ache between your thighs and your consciousness woke you up. dazed and confused, you wipe your eyes only to realize your wet dream was actually real.

you fell asleep and qimir finally made the move to fuck you as you slept. you let out a yawn and turn your head to face him, his pretty eyes already on you as you murmur, “i thought it was a dream.”

he chuckles and shakes his head, “a dream come true maybe..”

you playfully roll your eyes and he grins, “there’s my girl.”

you sheepishly grin, feeling your cheeks grow warm like they always did with any sweet words he’d give you. you stretched your arm out back to your waist to which he instinctively interlocked your hands together. his thumb gently rubbed your skin and he went back to focusing on his deep strokes.

you laid your head back into the pillow and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just relax and feel everything he’s doing.

he was now freely moaning, absolute music to your ears and unsurprisingly the cause of your orgasm getting closer. you whimpered and tried to squeeze your thighs together but his second hand didn’t let you. he clicked his tongue and you could just picture the look of disapproval on his face while you pout.

that alone was enough for his own orgasm to build up in his body and he started going faster, desperately trying to catch his release. “qimir-“ you whimpered and squeezed his hand.

he groaned and suddenly released his load deep inside you. his pace didn’t calm down until you were shaking and crying in pleasure from your orgasm suddenly hitting you too.

he stopped and slowly pulled out, not wanting to hurt you. he let go of your leg but leaned down to kiss your hand before letting go when his dick just slid out of you with a plop.

he kissed your hand some more before laying down behind you. you turned your body to lay on his chest, with a hand on his heart just feeling it beat for you. already having in mind that you need this to happen again, and qimir knowing without having to ask.

[jasmines-library]

Tried and True

WHUMPTOBER 2023 DAY FOUR: Prompt - Hiding an injury.

Fandom: Batfam/DC/Young Justice

Summary: During a fight with Bane you get critically injured but leave it hidden from your brothers. When they find out, it's a race against time to get you back to the safety of the manor. Warnings: Bullet wound, blood loss, near death experience, surgery, cursing. Word count: 2.8k Note: I'm super excited about this one. That's all i'm gonna say :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Bane fired three shots down the alleyway. They ricocheted off the bricks, clattering to the ground with a metallic ping. Dick Grayson hid crouched behind the lip of a building overlooking the alleyway, his mask pulled tight over his face. He watched with cautious eyes, surveying the villain before him. You were hunched over on the opposite side of the street dual daggers pressed firmly into the palm of your clammy hands. Damian and Jason lingered nearby, Tim opted to survey with his older brother. He had his bo staff hooked under his arm, ready to draw back and swing at any second. 

“I know you’re out there little birdies.” Bane sung, drawing out his steps as he paced the length of the alley. “Why don’t you come out for a little chat?”

He fired another round of bullets, this time up into the sky. Your little brother cast a look at you from your left, you held out a warning hand.

“Nightwing?” You asked into the coms quietly, careful not to draw unwanted attention. Even though Bane was outnumbered 5-1, he was still extremely powerful and if he caught one of you off guard, you would be in some deep shit. 

“We need to wait until he gets to the end of the alley. There’s a fork. We can flank him from both sides.”

The five of you watched intently as he walked, monotonously slow. When he was a mere few steps away from the end of the alley, Nightwing gave the signal and the five of you sprang into action, disguised and protected by the thick plating of your vigilante suits each specified to fit your needs. 

Landing roughly on your feet, you jumped from the building, reading your daggers in front of you. Your brothers formed a circle besides you, trapping bane between the three exits. He grinned manically.

“Finally! I thought I was going to miss out on all the fun.” 

He hoisted his gun up onto his shoulder and eyed the five of you up. The look on his face was mad; cynical. His eyes glistened beneath his mask as they settled on Robin. He fired, releasing a fresh wave of bullets, but the youngest was small and quick enough to slip away, behind a crate. 

With his back turned, Red Robin took his chance to make a move on Bane. He swung his staff in an arc, swiping at the giant's feet in an attempt to knock him to the ground. He wobbled, but spun around and knocked him out of the way, sending him flying into a nearby pile of junk.

“Red!?” You called out through the coms.

There was static as he shuffled around, coughing slightly as he tried to recover from having the wind knocked out from him. “All good.”

You moved next, Robin at your side. Using the walls, you propelled yourself towards Bane, trying to swing your dagger and lodge it anywhere on his exposed chest, only to have to skid across the floor as he swung his arm out to hit you. Although you weren’t successful, Robin had managed to get in a well placed slice along Bane’s torso. He had been aiming for the thick tubes which pumped him full of venom, but he wasn’t so successful. 

The five of you went many rounds with Bane, swinging, slicing and dodging as you tried to get the upper hand on the giant man. Though despite being outnumbered, he had still managed to get his own in on the five vigilanties. Red Hood was suffering a twisted ankle, and Robin had a trickle of blood running down the side of his temple where Bane had managed to strike him.

“Raven!” Nightwing hollered “Flank left.”

You retreated back round the alley with your eldest brother, twisting and navigating in the dinginess to flank him from his other side. When you returned, he had Tim pinned up against a wall, gasping for air and flailing, his feet struggling to scrape against the floor. You picked up your pace, feet slapping against the concrete. You swung, leaping high into the air and bringing your daggers down in a large sweeping motion, it lodged itself in one of Bane’s tubes, staunching the flow of venom pumping into his veins. You rolled across the ground and onto your feet, skidding against the asphalt as you dodged another swing that caught Robin instead. Nightwing was suddenly flanking from Bane’s otherside, cutting off the rest of the venom’s flow. Pulling Robin to his feet, he raised his katana.

With a signal from your brother cracking out over the coms, you gripped your daggers tighter, shifting them into a more comfortable grip in front of you. The humming of Dicks escrima sticks filled the alley. There was a beat, then you all charged, using bane’s weakness to your advantage. He took a large slice across his abdomen and a shock to his body. He roared, releasing a round of bullets into the brick. Dropping like a sack of flour the five of you pressed your body to the ground, trying to dodge the lethal pieces of metal he flung your way. And that was when you felt it, a raw indescribable pain that radiated across your body above your right hip. You stifled a cry, biting your lip beneath the cover of your mask. Your breath shuddered as you rose, trying to ignore the dark red patch that bloomed across the front of your suit. You readied your daggers, trying to conceal the wound with your arm. You were hoping that the cover of the darkness would help disguise it from your brothers. 

From his place on the ground, Jason fired at bane, distracting him from Tim, who swung his bo staff again at his feet, this time bringing him to the ground. Stepping forwards,you pressed your dagger to his neck, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to get the message across. He howled and grunted as Nightwing and Red Hood made quick work of securing him with rope they had stored on their suits, then delivering a quick blow to his head to render the giant unconscious. 

Nightwing took a step back and sighed, dropping his twin fighting sticks to the ground. “Is everyone ok?”

There was a chortle of agreement between the comms. You sheathed your daggers in the hosters at your hip, groaning as your fingers brushed against the pulsating wound. 

“Call B, tell him we have Bane.”

“Copy.” You said, flicking through the channels on the comms to call your father. He answered gruffly, signifying that he would be on his way on his way over as soon as he could. You heard the rumble of the batmobile in the background. 

“B’s on his way.” You told your brothers, changing the coms back. “He’ll be here soon.”

You glanced down at your stomach, still oozing blood, crossing his arms in front of you, trying to hide the growing patch and keep some pressure on it. You could feel the warm, stickiness against your skin clinging to the fabric of your suit. You couldn’t feel the exit wound, piercing the back of your flesh. Just the thought of the bullet still lodged inside of you made the pain worsen tenfold. You just had to hope that you would get back to the manor in time to stitch yourself up. 

~~~

Left, Right. Left, Right.

You had never been more glad to see the silhouette of the wayne manor, illuminated by the lights from the many windows that had been left on whilst you were out on patrol. You were trudging back slowly with your brothers after finishing up on patrol and ensuring that The Bat had bane secured and was taking him to Arkham. Your steps had grown sluggish, your vision doubled and your breaths uneven as you tried to keep up pace with your brothers, only to end up falling behind anyway. Your whole body ached, but nothing compared to the stabbing pain near your hip. You pulled your hand away from where you had been discreetly keeping pressure on it. Your head spun as you took in the sight of the blood dousing your hands. 

Left, Right…

Not much further now. You told yourself as you forced your body to keep pressing forwards. Home was so close but felt so so far away. You made your shaky legs push on, but with your hazy vision you swayed on your feet. 

Dick turned around, noticing your absence besides him. 

“Raven?” He asked, stopping in his tracks. His panicked tone alerted the rest of the boys. 

You were leaning on a nearby fence, trying to regain your composure.

“I- I’m fine. I just need-” 

Left…

Your body gave out beneath you as you tried to push yourself away from the wall, you were swallowed by a blinding pain; hot and inflamed as you collapsed in on yourself. Jason, the closest to you, rushed forwards before your body could collide with the hard asphalt. He laid you down tenderly so that your head was lying down on his lap. Dick was by your side patting down your body for the hidden injury, followed quickly by the other two.“Raven?” Damien stared at you with wide eyes. 

“Shit.” Dick cursed when his hand skimmed the tear in your suit, pulling it back with his fingers coaxed in your blood. 

You cried out in pain, eyes flying wide. 

Damien gripped your hand tightly, wincing at your pained expression when Jason hastily tore your mask away. He wiped away the tears which stained your cheeks. 

“AH!” Your face twisted when Dick ripped apart the fabric of your suit to get a better look at the wound; circular and ugly, only around the size of a penny, but it was already an angry shade of scarlet and was leaking more blood than you though you had in your body. The fabric which had matted with your blood tugged at your skin. You squeezed Damian’s hand tightly.

“R, what happened?” 

“...Shot.” You forced out. 

Jason reached around the back of your suit searching for an exit wound then cursing loudly when he failed to find one. “It’s still in there.”

Dick cursed. “Okay. Tim?”

The boy looked up meekly. 

“Grab the emergency pack, we’ll need tweezers, bandages. Something for the pain.”

“On it.”

“Damien? Call Alfred, tell him we need help, stat.”

Hesitantly, the Wayne let go of your hands and scrambled to get his phone. Tim was rushing back over with the supplies. 

“Y/N? This is going to hurt okay?”

You nodded feebly, head lolling around in Jason’s lap. 

“Hood, keep her awake.”

Jason took your head in his hands and angled it up to face him. Your eyes were fluttering closed.

“Hey, look at me, keep ‘em open kid.”

Your eyes opened in fraction as you listened to your older brother's words, though you were in a pained daze, only registering the pain in your side.

They would never forget the inhuman scream that pushed its way past your lips as Dick dig the tweezers into the wound. The pain was indescribable as your fingers clawed against the ground. You writhed in Jason’s hold, squirming away from the onslaught of pain. Dick cringed. 

“Tim, keep her still.”

His hands were like cold vices on your arms as he pinned you down, trying to keep you still as his older brother rummaged through your body. Your screams had morphed into horse shouts by the time he finally got the bullet out. But then came the burst of agony as he pushed his hands down as hard as he could on your wound. You whimpered.

“I know. I know Y/N I’m sorry.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you began to lose a grip on consciousness. Black dots danced in your vision.

“Hey. Stay with us!” Tim patted your face. “We need to move fast.

Jason leaned you up against his chest so his brothers could wrap the bandages tightly around your stomach. Damien had returned, informing them that Alfred was on his way. Once the bandages were secured, you were laid back down in Jason's chest, eyes fluttering. Damien returned to holding your hands, rubbing his thumbs back and forth across the flat of your hand. 

“Stay awake, Raven. Talk to us.” Tim prompted.

You were silent for a horrifying moment, before muttering out a few words. “...I’m sorry.”

“No. None of that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“I love you all.”

Your breaths were becoming shallower and you struggled to get the air you needed into your lungs. The black spots began to take over your vision. 

“We love you too, Y/N. So, so much.”

You hummed contently. Your body had begun to go numb. 

A dear ran down Damien’s cheek. You reached up to wipe it away as your older brother had done to you mere minutes ago.

“It’s okay.” You hushed. “It doesn’t hurt bad anymore.”

The two eldest vigilantes swallowed thickly, sharing a wide eyed glance between each other. That was when Alfred turned up, and the next minutes went by in a blur. The boys could do nothing more than watch as they whisked you away into surgery, praying that you would pull through. 

~~~

Dick watched as you began to stir. Your face twitched and you shifted uncomfortably. He had his much larger hand wrapped around yours, and had done for a few hours, insisting that he stay with you. You were his baby sister after all. Bruce had tried to send the other to bed, but like Dick, Jason had insisted that he should be allowed to watch over you too. Bruce was about to protest, but he couldn’t dismiss the distraught look plastered on Jason’s face. He had no doubt that the youngest two were lingering around somewhere, minds too full of opposing thoughts to let them succumb to the sleep that their bodies begged them for. Damian had kept trying to sneak in before being dragged away by Bruce. 

The room had been silent for a few hours as they watched your chest rise and fall. The surgery had been hard on your body, and for a while no one was sure that you were going to pull through. Albeit there you were lying pale but showing signs of waking up, on your bed.

  Alfred and Bruce were frequently in and out of your room where you lay hooked up to all sorts of machines that made Jason cringe. His head was resting on the side of your bed by the hand that Dick wasn’t nursing. His eyes had begun to droop shut as the early hours of the day crept around, when you shifted the let out a pained whimper. When he turned his head, he was greeted by your striking eyes. 

He scrambled off of the floor and into the chair that had been pulled up by your bed. “Y/N? Hey.”

“Boys?” You blinked, your head still groggy from the anaesthesia.

The eldest boy gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah kiddo. We’re here.”

Trying to sit up, the tug on your stitches elicited another cry of pain. Instinctively, both boys helped you sit up. 

“Take it easy, little bat.” Dick told you as you gingerly pushed back the sheets. Your hip was bound tightly in a white bandage. “He got you good.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jay pressed. “You could have…”

“I-”

You were cut off by the sound of the door shuddering open and a pair of your ‘not so little anymore’ brothers' heads peeking around it. They were hesitant, glancing around the room until you gave them a gentle smile.

“Y/N,” Damian rushed into the room, wrapping you tightly into a hug. 

“Hey Dami.” You murmured into his ear. 

He was suddenly ripped away from you by a grinning Tim who chided “Hey, be careful with her, you demon spawn. It’s my turn.”

You chuckled as he pulled you desperately into his arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay Y/N/N. I was so scared.”

You frowned, hoarse voice breaking as you spoke. “I’m sorry-”

“Damian.” A haggard voice sounded from somewhere in the hallway. It was followed by a pair of heavy set shoes. “How many times do I have to tell you to get back in bed-”

Bruce stopped abruptly at the sight of his children crowded before him. His eyes were clad with dark bags and his hair was unkempt on his head. 

“Hi Dad.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but he heard it nonetheless. Pushing past his sons, he was at your side in less than a second. 

And that was when the reality of the whole situation hit you. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

“Dad. I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”

“Shh.” He hushed. “This isn’t your fault. This is no one’s fault but Bane’s.”

“But-”

“Listen to the old man for once little bat. All that matters is that everyone is still together.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY THREE ⛤ DAY FIVE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

[achilles-rage]

Eager to Please

summary: buck has had you on edge all day, and when you finally get back to his place, it's time for your reward

word count: 2.7k

request: Could you write Buck being a munch with fem reader? I feel like he’s definitely eager to please and it would turn him on majorly

A/N: i am a munch!buck truther first and a person second. thank you to the person that requested this, it was fun! enjoy<33

warnings: smut, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

You never knew it was possible for a man to be so eager to please until you met Evan Buckley. Sure, guys might go down on you sometimes, but you can always feel the clear difference between wanting to do it, and feeling obligated.

Evan Buckley was not one of those men; he would spend hours with his mouth latched to your clit, adding his fingers every now and then to really make you scream.

You first noticed the first time you had sex. He was quick to strip you of your clothes, and then he laid you down on his bed with a hungry look in his eyes. He insisted that he wanted to watch you fall apart on his tongue before he even thought about fucking you, and you knew you were done for.

Today, he’s been teasing you since you both woke up; bringing you in for a hot kiss as you lay beside him, running his hands along your curves and down to your pubic bone, but never quite to where you want him. He gets up abruptly when he hears his phone ring, and the dejected look on your face has his mind racing with ideas.

It’s one of those rare days that you both have off, and he decides to take full advantage of it. First, he makes you breakfast, making sure to keep his chest and back bare so you could take it in. He’s always known how much you like his chest, and his tummy, and his broad back, so he uses this to his advantage. He sees the look of desire in your eyes as he sets your plate down in front of you and smirks to himself, knowing his plan is already working.

After breakfast, he tells you that he wants to take you out for the day. He brings you to the mall first, then to get coffee at a small café, then for a walk along the boardwalk, then out for an early dinner at a restaurant you’ve been wanting to try for ages. He makes sure to keep his hands on you the entire time. They’re just innocent touches: on the small of your back to guide you, on your waist as you look out at the ocean, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand as you walk. But it’s enough.

By the time you get to the restaurant, you’re aching for him. He’s wearing a shirt that stretches tightly across his chest and arms, and your eyes have been wandering down to his biceps all day. He keeps giving you those eyes at the restaurant, making you bite your lip as his eyes trail down your plush figure.

By the time both get into his jeep, your mind is so clouded with desire that his hand on your upper thigh makes you spread your legs instinctively. You don’t even notice at first, but Buck does. He smirks to himself and keeps his hand on you the entire way home, moving up an inch or two every few minutes, which keeps you on edge.

By the time you’re home, you’re speed walking to the door, ready to pounce on him the second you’re both inside his apartment.

He chuckles when you finally launch yourself at him, returning your hungry kiss slowly, keeping his hands on your cheeks to guide you.

“Slower.” he whispers against your lips. He pulls your head away for a second to force you to stop, then leans back in, moving his lips slowly against yours to make you match his pace. It takes a few more whispers, but you finally move at the same speed as him, keeping your hands wrapped around his wrists as you push against him.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he mumbles against your lips, tutting softly as your hands claw at his shirt, desperate for more of him.

“You’ve been so good all day, waiting so patiently. Think you deserve a reward.” he tells you in a gentle tone, looking down at your blown pupils and heaving chest. He chuckles when you nod eagerly, a breathy whimper escaping your lips.

He picks you up in one swift motion, fingers digging into the back of your thick thighs as he makes his way to the kitchen counter. You’re so needy for him; he doesn’t think you can wait any longer, but neither can he.

Once you’re on the counter, he pulls your panties down your legs, tossing them carelessly behind him, and lifts your dress up around your waist. He leans down and his lips cover your inner thighs with featherlight kisses, working his way slowly up to your dripping core while his arms loop around your thighs. He almost loves this as much as actually being able to taste you; he loves seeing how whiny and needy you get for his mouth.

Your hands are gripping the counter hard as you watch him move closer to where you want him the most, and it’s not until you let out a breathy “Buck, please” that he finally ducks down to your heat, licking a firm strip through your folds. You whine softly at the contact, and throw your head back when he buries his face into your slick, beginning to lick and suck urgently.

One of your hands moves to his hair as his lips wrap around your clit, and you whine loudly, which makes him chuckle against you. The vibrations add to the pleasure, and a string of “yes, yes, yes” make their way out of your mouth.

He unloops one of his arms and trails it up your plush tummy to your breast under your dress, which makes you lay back on the counter, and when he squeezes your breast roughly over your bra, you arch your back. His hand continues to explore your soft curves, ghosting over stretch marks and scars littered across your body, and he moans at the feeling. He loves having you like this; moaning and writhing underneath him as your arousal drips down his chin.

He darts his tongue in and out of your desperate hole as soft whimpers escape your throat, fingers pulling on his hair slightly. He groans as you pull his hair particularly hard, and he knows you’re getting close. He wants to make you come at least once with just his tongue before he uses his fingers, so he continues, spelling his name and circling your clit with his tongue as he sucks gently.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he murmurs against your folds, and smiles as you nod quickly, a soft “please” escaping your lips. “Come for me, pretty girl. Let me taste you.”

His words are all it takes for you to fall over the edge, your other hand moving to the back of his head as he continues his attack on your core, working you through your orgasm and lapping up all of your juices.

He slows his movements, and finally pulls his head away to look up at your face. He smirks as he sees you panting, head tilted back slightly as you come down from your high with hooded eyes.

He barely gives you a minute to recover before he pulls you into a sitting position and picks you up again, your panties left to find later as he brings you upstairs.

He sets you down on the bed, your head landing on his pillow, and then he pulls away just long enough to rid himself of his pants and shirt. You sit up on your elbows as you watch him, mouth watering as your eyes dart to the tent in his boxers, but he’s not even thinking about himself right now.

He’s back on you quickly, finally pulling your dress off before he kisses down your neck to your chest, hips grinding against yours as his lips move. He slides down you slowly, making sure to stop at your tummy as he presses hungry kisses across your skin, his lips and tongue ghosting over stretch marks as he goes.

He finally brings his head between your thighs again, his dick twitching as it makes contact with the bed beneath him.

He doesn’t tease you this time, instead, he nuzzles into your warm cunt, nose nudging your clit as his tongue works its way through your folds again. You let out a loud whimper at the feeling of his nose, and your hands grip the sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

You’ve just barely come down from your high, and the way he’s working your center has you squirming against his grip on your thighs.

He pulls away just long enough to push two fingers into you, moving in and out a few times before he curls his fingers upwards. You’re practically seeing stars at this point, and you can barely get any words out except incoherent babbling. His tongue is back on you, sucking and nipping at your sensitive clit, and you can’t help but buck your hips as he quickens the pace.

You’re too distracted to notice, but he’s started to grind his hips against the mattress below him, his low groans sending vibrations up your spine and making you shudder and whimper. His length is achingly hard as he ruts against the bed, but he keeps his focus on the way you taste, and the way you mumble his name like a prayer.

It’s not long before you’re coming again with a loud cry, and he continues to hit that spot with his fingers as you squirm and whimper for him.

Feeling you clenching around his fingers is all it takes for him to let go as well, hot come filling his boxers as he continues to rut against the mattress. He mumbles a quick “good girl” against you, reveling in your juices covering his face, dripping down onto the sheets as he tries to lick you clean.

He moves back up your body until his head is leveled with yours, leaving soft kisses along your hot skin as he does.

“You like that, baby?” he murmurs once he makes eye contact with you, licking his lips as he takes in your blissed out state. He leans down to kiss you softly, and you moan against his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Wanna try something.” he whispers against your lips. He pulls back and urges you up onto your knees. He then lays on the bed where you had just been, with his head on the pillow.

Your eyes travel down to the wet spot on his boxers, and you bite your lip. You fight back a moan at the thought that he was so turned on by your pleasure, that he came without you even touching him.

You look back up into his eyes, brows furrowed as you whisper a quiet “what?”

“Just come up here. Want you to sit on my face.” he tells you with a smirk, one hand still in yours as he pulls you up to him. You bite your lip nervously, but let him pull you up.

Honestly, you’re a little surprised he’s never asked before, and although you’re a little nervous, the idea excites you.

“Right now?” you ask in slight disbelief. Your legs still feel weak at your previous orgasms, and you really don’t think you can do another.

“Of course. Come on, pretty girl. Let me feel you.” he purrs, eyes trailing down to your pulsing core as you oblige. You’re kneeling beside his head, and he pats one of your thighs, urging you to swing it over his head.

You sigh, hesitating for a moment before you finally do what he wants. His arms are quick to loop around your thighs, growling softly as he sees that you’re not lowering yourself down onto his awaiting mouth.

“All the way down, baby. Come here.” he tells you sternly, and when you don’t immediately do it, he pulls you down harshly.

You let out a soft moan as his tongue makes its way through your folds again, and you tilt your head back. You’re still sensitive from him, so you grip his headboard tightly as your hips squirm slightly, which makes him tighten his grip on your thighs.

He can barely breathe, but he doesn’t care, he thinks this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Your thick thighs draped across his head, your dripping heat against his tongue. He can just see your head over your plush tummy, and he groans at the sight. He loves your tummy, and if he weren’t so preoccupied, his hands would be touching and squeezing the flesh with his fingers.

You can’t help but buck your hips against his mouth, of both overstimulation and intense pleasure, and he groans as he feels your weight on him. He bucks his hips up as he sucks on your clit, already growing hard again as he pulls louder and louder whines and moans from your pretty lips.

As your third high approaches, you feel yourself trying to pull away from his mouth, the overstimulation becoming overwhelming. Your hands have moved from his headboard to his hair, and you try to pull his head away from your slick folds with a soft “too much.”

He shakes his head as much as he can, growling as he holds you down firmly. He moves his tongue faster in and out of your desperate hole, once again using his nose to nudge at your clit.

With a few more thrusts of his tongue, you’re coming so hard that you can barely see. Your body goes taut as you come on his tongue yet again, and your hands are firmly weaved through his hair, keeping his head in place as he slows his tongue.

He pats your thighs gently once he’s worked you through your orgasm, silently telling you to raise your hips. You oblige and swing one leg back over his head, then collapse onto the bed beside him, breathing heavily.

He moves so he’s lying beside you, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, then your cheek, then your collarbone. He pulls you so you’re lying on your side beside him, resting your cheek against his chest as he stays on his back.

“Is that it?” you ask through shaky breaths, and he raises a brow with a small smirk.

“Was three not enough?” he asks in slight disbelief, but his eyes cloud with desire again at the idea of making you fall over the edge for a fourth time. You shake your head, closing your eyes for a moment.

“What about you?” you ask in a soft voice, struggling to keep your eyes open. It’s his turn to shake his head, and he shushes you softly.

“I don’t need anything, baby. Watching you was enough. And I already took care of myself.” He finishes with a soft chuckle, and you bite your lip as you remember that he had come in his boxers already.

You nod, breathing finally going back to normal as you rest against him, listening to his heartbeat. He kisses the top of your head as you lay there, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your shoulder as he keeps his arm around your shoulder.

After a few minutes, he breaks the silence, looking down at the top of your head.

“You wanna have a bath?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you smile softly as you raise your head to look up at him.

“Yes please.” you whisper back, your cheeks growing hot at the idea, as if a bath is the most intimate thing you have done today.

He leads you to the bathroom, and strips your bra from your body as the bath fills up. He guides you in to sit back against his chest, and he wraps his arms around your waist, sighing happily.

He may love watching you fall apart on his tongue, but he loves this just as much. Sitting in silence and holding you close as the warm water soothes your muscles and makes your eyes grow heavy.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[danikamariewrites]

First wanted to say I love your stories they are amazing! If possible, I have a request for a xaden x reader that’s preferably fluff. The reader is in the same quadrant as xaden but they aren’t super close. The reader gets hurt and Xaden takes them to the infirmary but the reader starts to freak out because of fears of needles/blood (maybe an anxiety attack?) reader tries to hide it because they are embarrassed but Xaden notices anyway and tries to comfort them. :)

Squeeze My Hand

Xaden x reader

Notes: thank you for requesting this anon bc I’ve been struggling for weeks to write and this gave me my spark back. this was the first thing I’ve finished (happily) in weeks💕

Warnings: blood, stitches, injury, and needles

You couldn’t look down. You’d pass out which would make everything worse. It’s bad enough you can feel the blood seeping down your thigh. The last thing you needed was to see the liquid along with the gash.

Taking deep breaths you laid at the bottom of the Gauntlet, thinking about where you misstepped.

A pair of strong arms scooped you up, helping you to stand. Looking up you see Xaden Riorson’s dark eyes roaming your face. Worry set in on his features, wondering how you’re staying so calm in a situation that would have anyone else writhing on the ground.

“I’ll take her!” Xaden calls out to the Leader. You hadn’t heard a word anyone said in the last five minutes with the adrenaline and blood rushing in your ears.

“Can you walk?” He asked softly, taking you by surprise. “Kind of,” you mutter as you study the color of his eyes. The darkness of them holds the littlest flecks of hazel and gold, making them look kinder up close.

Getting to the stone stairs leading up to school you let out a huff. Without hesitation Xaden picked you up bridal style, careful of the still bleeding gash on your thigh. You suck in a harsh breath at the stinging sensation running up your limb.

“Sorry,” Xaden murmured.

He slowed his pace to not jostle you around as much. Even when you got to the top of the stairs Xaden kept you in his arms. He was warm and gentle with you. The initial shock of your injury had you too occupied to wonder why Xaden was helping you.

Even though you’re in the same Quadrant you rarely talk with Xaden. Like every other girl with eyes at Basgiath, you found Xaden attractive.

As he gets closer to the infirmary you subconsciously grip Xaden’s shirt. Your fist begins to shake, knuckles turning white.

Xaden looks down at you, noticing how bad you’re trembling. The color drained from your face as he pushed through the infirmary doors. Your eyes watch the move of every healer as Xaden places you on an empty bed.

You keep your gaze from the wound, knowing the sight of blood makes you nauseous.

One of the senior Healers comes to inspect your cut, gently moving your leathers to get the full scope of your injury. “You are going to need stitches. I’m going to cut your pants and then clean you up.”

You nod wordlessly at her, your eyes screwed shut. You had hoped that you would not need stitches. Needles are a big fear of yours. You never wanted one near you whether it was to help or harm you. A wild fear to have as a dragon rider, honestly.

Xaden’s hand covers yours, now fisting the sheets. You jump as he softly squeezes your fingers. “What’s wrong?” You open your eyes for the first time since the healer looked at you.

Taking a deep breath you give Xaden a reluctant look. Your cheeks flush bright red in embarrassment. Good Gods, how do you confess your stupid fear of needles to one of the toughest people you know. “Y/n, it’s ok. You can tell me.” Xaden reassures.

“Promise you won’t make fun of me.” You say sternly. Xaden holds out his pinky, “I swear I won’t.”

You give him a small nod. “I don’t like needles. I’ve never had stitches before and I’m terrified.” You hold Xaden’s stare for a long moment. Xaden gives your hand another reassuring squeeze, folding between both of his hands. The roughness of his palms rubbing against the smoothness of the back of your hand felt comforting.

“The Healer will put some numbing salve on your skin. It takes a few minutes for it to work, then you’ll barely feel it. And if you can, squeeze my hand if it hurts.” You blink at Xaden, surprised he is being supportive.

“Thank you,” you murmur, looking down at your lap. The Healer comes back with the supplies and starts applying the salve, just like Xaden said. When you saw the needle you tensed up, your eyes as wide as saucers.

“Relax,” Xaden whispers. Your eyes water as you look at him again. Xaden sits next to you, wrapping his arm around you, letting your head rest on his shoulder. The needle pricks your skin, the Healer working quickly.

You feel the needle every few passes. You squeeze Xaden’s hand, praying this ends soon.

“All done.” The Healer says, covering the stitches with a bandage.

Xaden gently kisses the top of your head. “Good job, y/n/n.” He whispers sweetly. A furious blush rising to your cheeks.

[linopls]

birthday boys pt 2

part one is here ! jisung x fem!reader x felix, college au summary: to celebrate your boyfriend and roommates birthday, you all play a fun drinking game which reveals something about your boyfriend. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, alcohol, threesome, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it pls), voyeurism/exhibitism, cuckolding (kinda?), oral (fem receiving),  a little more degradation, a lot of praising, nipple play, p in v, cum tasting 2.2k words

“will you let felix and me take care of you now?”

jisung holds out his hand to help you up off your knees and onto the bed. he pulls down the covers and the three of you slide underneath. you’re facing jisung and he slowly brings you into a messy kiss. felix slots himself right behind you and begins to kiss at your shoulders, he traces his fingers along the pattern of your lacy lingerie.

“you’re so beautiful, love. did you know that?” felix whispers into your ears, sending a cold shiver down your spine.

you moan into jisung’s mouth and he pulls away. “felix asked you a question, baby.”

“yes, lixie, sungie tells me all the time.” you feel yourself slowly drift into the warm headspace where you no longer have to think because you know these boys will take care of you. jisung starts to kiss down on your collarbone and felix guides your head to the side to kiss him. 

jisung moves his hand up your back and starts to fiddle with the lingerie strap. as the bralette starts to slide off your arms, felix pulls away from the kiss and takes the bra, folds it nicely and sets it on the nightstand. 

“those are expensive,” he whispers. “don’t want anything to happen to it, i’d like to see you in it again.” 

your eyes roll back, the thought of this being a recurring thing sounded like a dream. felix catches the look on your face and chuckles before sliding one of his hands around to your front, cupping one breast in his hand. jisung begins to work on the other with his mouth, sucking and biting down on it until it elicits a reaction from you. your back arches and you moan loudly as both boys work on your breasts.

 jisung stops suddenly and looks up, “felix, would you like to taste her?”

if it was possible for you to be any wetter, you would be now. felix kisses your cheek once last time before fully sliding underneath the covers to be face to face with your clothed cunt. jisung pulls back the covers and moves himself to sit behind you so you are propped up and can watch.

“love, you’ve soaked through your panties,” felix says, putting his hands on your thighs to spread your legs. your head rolls back and you make eye contact with jisung who is looking down at you with awe and admiration.

felix places a gentle kiss to your clothed clit and you whimper in response. jisung snakes his hands around to your breasts and begins to gently squeeze at them. the feeling of the two most beautiful boys you’ve ever met taking their time with you could bring you to tears. felix licks a long stripe from the bottom of your core to where he kissed.

“p-please don’t tease,” you whine.

“hmm, that’s ironic of you to say, baby,” jisung giggles into your ear.

“i won’t, love, i won’t.” felix hooks one of his fingers into the waistband of your and uses his other hand to lift your legs above his head. he gently slides your panties off your legs and kisses down the back of your thighs. once he reaches the bottom of your thighs he slowly parts your legs.

“wow,” he whispers and places another soft kiss to your now unclothed clit.

jisung his hands off your breasts and places them on your knees, fully parting your legs for felix to admire your sweetness. “isn’t she pretty?”

“so fucking pretty,” felix groans. he starts to lick, at a slow and agonizing pace, at your clit. you moan and whine in response and lay your head back on jisung’s shoulder.

“is felix making you feel good?” jisung asks.

“s-so good, so good,” you whimper. 

your hips start to grind down onto felix’s face to feel more of his tongue. felix slides his arms under you thighs and wraps his arms fully around them, halting you of any movement. he slides his tongue starts working wonders on your clit again. your moans become uncontrollable, the body heat of the two beautiful boys around you is enough to drive you insane let alone the naughty acts being done to you. felix then moves down to your hole, jisung takes this opportunity to slide one of his hands down to your clit, rubbing small circles on it.

“fuck,” you moan loudly, back arching off of jisung. both the boys take that as a cue to start working faster. felix pulls your cunt closer to his face, if that was even possible, and rapidly fucks your hole with his tongue. 

jisung pulls his fingers into your mouth, “suck.” you eagerly comply, swirling your tongue around his digits before he quickly retakes his position rubbing small, but quicker, circles around your sensitive bud. 

the pleasure is insane, nothing like you’ve ever felt before. yes, jisung was amazing in bed and you’ll always think that, but the extremely erotic scene of being eaten out by his best friend was something that made your heart race. your hips unconsciously try to buck up into felix’s face, but his firm grip on your thighs has you moving nowhere.

tears begin to stream down your face as the familiar knot begins to brew in your core. you start to babble a stream of ‘yes’, ‘fuck’, ‘oh my god’, and ‘please’’s. jisung moves one of his hands to your breast, circling and pinching at your sensitive nipples. 

“can i please cum? please,” you beg. 

“asking for permission,” jisung teases. “you are such a good and pretty girl, hmm. felix what do you think?”

you feel felix mumble a ‘mhm’ into your cunt in response, not breaking contact for a second. 

“go ahead baby, cum for us, please,” jisung whispers into your ear. 

waves of pleasure take over your body, your back arching completely off of jisung, and tears flooding down your face. whimpers, whines, and moans spill from your mouth as the two boys work you through your orgasm. as you lay your head back onto jisung’s shoulder and your breathing slow, he pulls his fingers away. felix finally breaks from your core and looks up at you. your release shining all over his face and his pupils blown wide. 

felix starts to crawl back up to sit with you, when you take notice is cock is fully erect and leaking again. jisung must notice too as he asks, “would you like to fuck her?”

felix’s face flushes pink, “can i?” he asks you.

with the little strength you have left you nod. 

“do i need a-” felix starts.

“no, y/n likes to be filled like the little slut she is,” jisung interrupts and you moan. 

“jesus fuck.” felix’s eyes roll back and he aligns himself with your entrance. “are you sure, love?”

“mhm,” you nod.

felix slowly slides himself in with a loud moan. the feeling of his long cock dragging against your velvet walls has both you and felix’s eyes rolling back into your head. felix takes his hands and places them on the underside of your knees, pushing your legs back slightly. the new and deep feeling has you seeing stars. felix was semi-right, he wasn’t has thick as jisung, but he was longer. as the head of his cock hits new spots on your cervix, he stops and looks into your eyes once again, silently asking for permission. 

your eyes must’ve answered for you. felix begins to slide out slowly, but before fully removing his cock he slams back into your tight hole. the feeling unconsciously releasing a moan from your mouth. he does this a couple more, painfully slow, times but he starts to pick up the pace until he’s fucking into your cunt at an animalistic pace. his head rolls back in pleasure and his low grunts drive you insane. jisung slides one of his hands back down to your clit and begins to rub quick circles on it. you’ve never felt more pleasure in your life.

“that feel good, love?” felix grunts, not stopping his pace for a second. all your able to do in whine back. 

“answer his question, baby,” jisung says, his free hand tangling into you hair and pulling back on it. “or are you being fucked too stupid you can’t think.”

you’re sobbing at this point, wanting nothing more than to cum all over felix and then pass out. 

jisung scoffs, “stupid, stupid slut, hmm?”

felix laughs, “ you’re taking me so fucking well, you’re gonna make me cum inside your pretty hole. do you want me to do that?” 

you moan loudly in response and frantically nod your head. “yes, yes, yes please lix,” you whine.

“will you cum with me baby?” he asks and you nod. “good, then cum for us, please.”

as soon as he finishes his sentence you’re seeing white, the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had washes over you. you feel felix’s cock twitch and his warm seed fill your throbbing, wet cunt. you gripping onto the arm that jisung is using to toy with your clit and dig your nails into his skin. felix and jisung both slow down their pace as your body begins to go limp. 

your eyes are closed, you don’t have the strength to open them. you feel jisung move out from behind you but not letting your body fall. felix slowly pulls out of you and moves to take jisung’s place behind you. jisung then takes felix’s place and lines himself up with your entrance.

jisung slowly pushes himself in, the stretch of his thickness giving a good burning feeling to your core. felix holds one of your limp legs open with one hand and moves two fingers in front of your mouth.

“suck,” he says firmly. you do without question. 

once jisung fully pushes himself inside of you, he groans. “my beautiful, fucked out baby, can you give us one more, please? for the birthday boys?”

you had almost forgotten your name, its not shocking you could barely remember why you were in this situation. you mumble a soft ‘mhm’ and jisung begins to fucking his throbbing cock into your slick hole. you’re so fucked out at this point that all that comes out of your mouth is occasional whimpers. tears begin streaming down your face again as felix takes his fingers from your mouth and moves them down to your clit, pinching and rubbing your bud very gently. 

“you’ve done so well for us,” jisung praises.

“this is the best birthday present i could ever ask for.” you can hear felix’s smile in his voice. 

jisung moans and quickens his pace. “felix has prepared you so nice for me. do you want me to fill you as well?” 

your too weak to response, but the way your cunt tightens around jisung’s cock gives him his answer. 

“i’m gonna fill you so good,” jisung grunts, starting to pound into you like never before. “gonna fill you til both our cum is dripping out of your tight fucking cunt.”

“please,” you whisper.

jisung smirks and felix finally begins to quicken his pace on your clit, stopping every so often to pinch it between his two fingers. 

“gonna take both of our cum like the good girl you are?” felix whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you gather your strength to nod frantically.

“c-close,” you mumble. “please.”

“gonna cum on my cock baby?” jisung asks, grabbing both of your legs and pulling them over his shoulders. you nod again. “you can cum whenever you’re ready, baby.” 

felix moves your hair behind your ear and puts his soft lips up to it. “come on, pretty cumslut, you can do it.” 

that brings both you and jisung to your orgasms. much more intense than the first two. your eyes are rolling back into your head and your back arches. you feel your wetness seep out around jisung's cock. you feel jisung's seed painting your walls as he's spilling out 'i love you' over and over again.

after fucking you through your third orgasm, jisung quickly pulls out to watch both his and felix’s cum spill out of your cunt. felix dips his finger into your hole to gather the cum spilling out of his and brings it to your lips. you quickly take his digits in your mouth and swirl your tongue around them til they’re clean. 

jisung disappears for a second and felix is whispering in your ear about what a pretty and good girl you are. your ears are still ringing from your three insane orgasms so you can’t really make out what he’s saying. jisung returns with a towel and starts to wipe your legs and core clean, he’s complimenting you as well. the only words you can make out for sure is “i love you”. 

the two boys are talking and next thing you know you're being carried into felix’s room bridal style. jisung leaves and felix crawls into bed with you. jisung returns quickly? you’re not sure of time anymore and crawls into the bed behind you. the two pepper soft kisses all over your body and you start to return from your haze.

“are you feeling okay, baby?” jisung asks.

“mhm,” you mumble.

“ready for bed?” felix asks while placing a kiss to your forehead.

“mhm,” you mumble again. before you can hear either of their responses you’re out like a light. 

thank you all for your support on pt 1! i hope you enjoyed pt 2.

please submit asks and requests if you have any, i'm open to writing about anything! also lmk if you'd like me to do kinktober for skz bc i'm thinking about it <3

[kiwicopia]

🔞 MDNI | Kinktober: Knife Play 🔞

🎃 Slasher!Toji x Fem!Reader 🎃

TW: Non-con, obsessed serial killer, reader bound and gagged, slight choking, knife usage, use of a pet name (doll), mentions of stalking, insinuated kidnapping, age gap (Toji in his mid thirties, reader in early to mid twenties), creampie, sideways position.

tags: @stygianoir @uzxotic @shes-so-insane

You never believed in monsters. The stories your parents told you as a kid were nothing more than that. Stories. Lies that parents told children to keep them in line, and you knew that. It was why you never fell into the paranoia that swept over your city with the latest string of murders. Some crazed lunatic that snuck in through open windows and sliced the throats of their victims before leaving without a trace. Maybe you were asking for it when you decided to leave your window cracked one night, or perhaps you were just wanting to see if they would show. Either way, you knew one thing: you weren’t afraid of a monster. Or so you thought.

You didn’t have time to even comprehend what was happening through the daze of exhaustion. Having woken up once you felt large hands move along your body before they roughly turned you over. That was when the fear kicked in, but it was too late by then, as your wrists were bound together tightly behind your back by cable. You tried to scream, but it seemed as though the intruder was one step ahead and shoved your panties in your mouth, silencing you. 

“Can't have you screamin’, doll,” he drawled. His voice was deep, husky, and it sent a shiver down your spine as you lay in your own bed, completely at his mercy. “Been watchin’ ya for a while now. Pretty careless to leave your window open like that.” He paused, and you felt another shiver run down your spine as his blade slid carefully down your back. His body shifted as he straddled you and leaned his face down to your ear. “Unless it was an invitation,” he whispered. You tried to speak in response, yet your panties muffled the noise, and the man chuckled. “A girl like you ought to be careful. Didn’t your parents ever warn you?” Your eyes widened when his large hands shifted your body, turning you onto your side. “Gonna have a little fun with ya.” 

Once again, your sounds were muffled as you tried to speak in protest, to which the intruder blatantly ignored. He was too focused on putting you in position. With you on your side and one leg on the bed while the other was placed over his shoulder, he unzipped his pants and quickly yanked them down. Your room was too dark to see him—not that you could from that angle—but you made a small whining noise when you felt his cockhead slide up against your folds. You should have been ashamed of how wet you had gotten, with your slick coating his tip enough for him to slide in with ease. 

Your muscles tensed the further he pushed his cock in, only to pull halfway out before his hips snapped forward harshly. He got himself into a steady rhythm, and aside from your pathetic and muffled moans, the only sounds heard within your room were his grunts and the slapping of his balls against your ass. “Fuck,” he groaned. He relished in the feeling of your cunt as it constantly sucked his dick back inside of you, and his pace soon slowed as he shifted around again. His chest pressed against your back as he lay behind you, and one hand tightened around your ankle, keeping your leg up while his other settled around your neck. The slight pressure applied had you moaning against the panties in your mouth, all while he bullied your pretty cunt with his cock. 

The position he had you in, the angle, it felt so good. Too good. Honestly, you really should have been ashamed, but the pleasure that flooded your body from the way he fucked into you clouded your judgement. His breath tickled your ear as he buried his face into your neck. “So good,” he mumbled. “All for me. All for me.” The hand around your throat squeezed a little once more before moving to your mouth, pulling out the panties that kept your sounds muffled. “Talk to me,” he said. “Tell me how good ‘m fuckin’ ya.” 

“So good,” you whined. The man groaned at your response and shoved his dick deeper into your cunny. A moan fell from your lips as your head leaned back from the pleasure it gave you. “More,” you panted. “Harder.” His chuckle sent a shiver down your spine as he complied with your request. The pace at which his cock bullied your hole increased, causing your eyes to roll back at the feeling. It was like your pussy was made for him, and only him, but it was starting to feel like too much. You could already feel the way he twitched inside of you, yet he showed no signs of stopping or even pulling out. “Wait, stop—.” 

“Shut up,” he growled. Your chest tightened at his tone, but you remained quiet, save for your wanton moaning that echoed off your walls. “Been waitin’ for this.” You didn’t know what he meant by that, and he knew it. You were oblivious to his stalking, and while you were supposed to be another victim, something about you changed his mind. He didn’t know what it was, but all he knew was that he had you now, and there wasn’t a damn thing in this world that would get in the way of that. 

His hand moved back to your throat and tightened around it while the other hand squeezed your ankle, and his thrusts increased further as his cock practically hammered into your sopping hole. The lewd squelching only fueled his desire to fuck you even more, and that was exactly what he did—until he was driven over the edge. The man’s hips sputtered as he bucked into you one last time, spilling into you and painting your gummy walls with his cum. His hand around your throat tightened to the point where you struggled to breathe a bit, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bring forth an orgasm. 

Your release came while your pussy milked him, and he groaned into your ear at the way your walls squeezed him, almost as if coaxing him to cum again. Your mind was in such a daze from the moment that you didn’t feel him slide out of you, however, you did feel him pull your nightgown up over your hips. A sharp hiss slipped out between clenched teeth as the tip of his blade dug into your skin, drawing blood, yet it only lasted for a few minutes. Once finished, the man sat back and admired his work before looking at you. 

“I’d kill ya, but I want to keep ya,” he said. His body moved away from you as he slipped his pants back on and gave you one last glance. “I’ll come back for ya later.” All you did in response was nod and pant hard before watching him approach you again. There was a small cutting noise, and you realized that you could now move your hands. When your eyes looked back at him, he was already slipping back out through your window, shutting it before vanishing into the night. 

You laid in your bed for a while longer, resting until you got enough strength to head into your bathroom. When you lifted your nightgown, you saw it. Jagged and still bleeding were two letters that seemed to be his initials. T.F. He marked you, yet you didn’t know why, and you would never know until he came back for you a week later.