#he's probably not gonna go into details about bulges and shit

[toxicanonymity]

Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas.  You packed your swimsuit this weekend.  You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway.  Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off.  In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.  

-

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie.  Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does. 

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail.  She leans over and looks at the screen. 

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up.  “Gross, he's like 50.”   

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?”  She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot.  It turns out, you had no idea.  

You sigh,  “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.”  You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't.  You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?” 

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.” 

She looks at you sympathetically.  She knows why you came home this weekend.  You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing.  “I get it,” she says.  “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it.  Then on to the next,” she smiles.  

If only it were that easy.  You really don’t feel like going back and facing life.  Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive.  But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you.  You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears.  You just hate feeling so powerless.  On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend. 

Your phone dings.  Your friend looks at it.  

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious.  "Oh, shit.  You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me."  You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism. 

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. " 

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy.  She really tickles herself pink with that.  Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.  

Your phone dings again.  She looks at the screen and side-eyes it. 

"What?" You ask 

"You should block Chad." 

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.  

Chad: miss u already. 

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.  

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond. 

-

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute.  A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable? 

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note.  It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing: 

You have no idea.  

Your heart races as you look around the street.   How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back.  Laundry, you guess.  You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts. 

-

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street.  Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house.  Comically high-security, too.  Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him.   You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back.  The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.  

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing.  Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis.  You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further.  You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window.  Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear.  Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece. 

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house.   When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise.  It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.  

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches.  He doesn't bother pretending not to watch.  You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts.  He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.  

-

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool.  You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water.  When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.  

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks. 

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.  

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair.  The glimpse makes your knees weak.  He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on.  He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months.  Look, Trouble, I’m human at best.  She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.” 

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything.  He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool.  You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees.  You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s.  His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.  

“There,” he says, handing you his phone.  You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask. 

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles.  “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.  

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window. 

"One what?"

"iPhone pro.  Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using." 

"What do I need an iphone pro for?" 

"They didn't have the regular one in blue." 

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.  

-

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing. 

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.  

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything. 

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”  

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.  

You still don't say anything. 

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh.  All your blood rushes to your loins.  You don't move.  He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass.  A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.  

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb.  When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach. 

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.” 

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.  

-

“God damn.  Look at you.”  He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again:  The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you.  The length of his cock slamming into her when he came.  And now it's right there for your taking.  Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants.  Too bad he doesn't deserve it. 

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head. 

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.  

He takes a deep breath and his lips part.  He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand.  You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you.  He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back,  jutting your tits into the air again.

 "Yes ma'am," he growls. 

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you. 

"The whole thing." You nod at it.  

He pulls the fabric back. 

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.  

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought. 

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand. 

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies. 

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip.  Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base.  You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own.  He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly.  You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it. 

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock.  He clenches his jaw.  

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away.  He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly.  He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand. 

He shakes his head slowly.  “Yeah, you would.” 

He looks down at himself then back up at you.  His eyes darken.  The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . . 

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy. 

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs.  You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.  

“Thirsty?” he breathes. 

“Hell no.  Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.” 

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie.  A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.  

“Gross,” you say.  But you ache for him so badly.  “You know, a gentleman always asks.” 

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute." 

-

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let  it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone.  He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.”  Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call."  He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled.  Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly. 

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes.  Half of it is dark with sweat now.  His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels.  You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.  

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly.  He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house. 

-

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.  

How devious of him.  

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head.  Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you.  Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear.  He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away. 

-

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock.  Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away.  Asshole.

[kumezyzo]

nsfw bf!sapnap x female!reader....so, minors do not interact! read it or whatever idgaf just dont reblog or comment or like the post. its pretty long already but it could have been longer lol.

so enjoy! or dont.... :) m.list

bf!sapnap who invites you over to the house to hang out like normal but it just so happens that you two get pulled into drinking by the other two

bf!sapnap who would have a few too many white claws and gets a little more touchy the more the alcohol starts to hit. feelin up the sides of you waist and hips, messing with the bottom of your shorts, and pressing himself into you

bf!sapnap who heavily denies it when george notices the bulge in his shorts and starts laughing loudly about it while calling him weird

bf!sapnap who has to pull you to his room into because he cant handle the ache between his legs. but obviously he cant pull you away without the other two saying something.

"wait, nick where are you going!?" dream asked loudly, giggling with george

"ew he's gonna go have sex" george scrunched up his face in disgust

"so what if i am?" sapnap would respond, pushing you up the stairs

bf!sapnap would then immediately kiss you once he closed the door behind him, locking it and pushing you towards the bed

he would make you sit as he gets down on his knees and starts kissing down your body

bf!sapnap who groans happily when you throw his hat off his head and grip tightly onto his hair. all while he practically rips your shorts off and kisses up and down your thighs

bf!sapnap who licks up your slit through your panties, humming at the warmth radiating from you. he forcefully tugs them off and presses rough kisses on your slit, smiling at the way you throw your head back and tug harder at his hair

HE cant handle teasing you so much. he cant help but to start eating you out desperately. if he was being honest, he was probably enjoying it more than you. with every jaw movement he made, his beard rubbed against you deliciously

bf!sapnap who would make you cum so nicely and lick up every drop that spills out of you, making you squirm away from him and push his head away.

or

bf!sapnap who gets so worked up with you sitting on his lap and kissing up and down his neck. he would have his hands holding your hips and waist, trying to grind up into you as discretely as possible

bf!sapnap who tries to act like youre not affecting him so much when you ask him if hes alright as you grind down into him slowly

bf!sapnap who cant help it when he moans at a particular grind of your hips and the unbelievable amount of heat radiating from your core

bf!sapnap who has to hurridly pull you off his lap to remove his sweatpants and boxers. and if you happen to not be moving fast enough for him, he'll help you out by practically tearing your own pants and underwear off of your legs

bf!sapnap who grips your hips tightly and forces you to straddle him before he kisses you roughly, placing one hand on your neck and the other one on your waist

he would start rocking his hips against you, shuddering at the feeling of your wet slit running along his dick

bf!sapnap who pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours when you start to rub yourself against him.

he fills with a sense of pride when you moan softly at the heat hes giving off between the lips of your pussy

bf!sapnap who helps you grind against him faster. he moans right against your ear as the wet sounds fill the room, his words barely filtering in your mind

"fuck, peaches, im not even- fuck- inside you... and you feel so fucking good. shit."

"yea?" it comes out like a whine, "you like me grinding on you like this?"

"yea- shit- cum on my cock. fuck- go ahead"

lol. it wasnt too detailed but whatever. remember to send asks, comment, or like to show support, i really appreciate it. or dont, thats fine too lol. thats it... bye -Nony

[bigoltrashpile]

No Matter What

Hi everybody! This here is a commission for Palestine by the amazing @galacticroyal93!! Thank you so much for the support! If you want a commission, see this post for more details. Also, this fic is about broken bones, so if that freaks you out, maybe sit this one out.

“-and then, do you know what he said?  He fucking said that I was the stupid one!  After he asked for a discount on the shoes that he scuffed up!  Can you believe it??”

Papyrus fought back the urge to laugh.  He always loved when you told him about your day at work, even when you weren’t in the same place.  That’s what phones were for!  “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT!  SOME PEOPLE HAVE GOT A LOT OF NERVE!”  He threw his wet laundry into the dryer and stepped into the living room.  He had you on speaker phone so that the other skeletons could hear you.  “I HOPE TOMORROW GOES BETTER FOR YOU.”

“Yeah, me too.”  You sighed through the phone.  “Oh well, these delicious nuggets will help me.  And the gummies.”  That was another thing about you, you were always fun to talk to while high, you had no filter.  Just how Papyrus liked talking! And one of the many reasons Papyrus liked you.  You didn’t try to hide how you felt. “Anyway, how was your day?”

“OH, NOT BAD, I JUST-”

“Oh, hold that thought, the doorbell rang, I think my package is here!”  There was the sound of you jogging to the door, and then the door opening.  Just then, your shrill oven alarm echoed through the tinny speaker.  You swore softly.  Suddenly, Papyrus heard the sound of slipping, and a sickeningly loud “CRACK.”

Immediately, Papyrus froze up.  Sans shot straight up from his supposed sleep on the couch.  From the kitchen, a mix between a gasp and a choke came from Slim.  “HELLO?  HELLO???  ARE YOU THERE, WHAT HAPPENED???”

“Ow,” you muttered.  “Oh shit, I think I broke something.”  There was a pause.  “Yeeeeeeeah that’s broken, I can see the bone.”

“OH MY GOD.  OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, SHIT, STAY THERE, WE’LL BE THERE TO HELP IN JUST A MOMENT, STAY CALM!!!!” Papyrus shrieked, very not calm.

Sans was instantly next to his brother.  “i’ll shortcut us there,” he said.  His eyes were black.  “slim, you coming?”

Papyrus’s double poked his head into the living room.  “i...i don’t think i can.”  He somehow looked even more pale than usual.  “i think i’d throw up.  i’ll tell the others.”

“SIT TIGHT, WE’LL BE THERE IN A MOMENT,” Papyrus promised you.  His brother grabbed him and they both fell through space, right outside your apartment.

As soon as they were there, Papyrus pounded on your door.  Sure enough, there was a large package on the mat.  “WE’RE COMING IN,” Papyrus announced.  He phased through the door, unlocked it from the inside, and swung open the door.

Right on the floor of your living room, just feet from the door, there you were.  You waved casually up at Papyrus, like your foot wasn’t currently facing the wrong way.  Papyrus shuddered and tried not to look at it.  He could see an unnatural bulge in your skin where your bone was attempting to poke through.  “Hey Paps,” you smiled.

Papyrus couldn’t move.  You were hurt.  Badly.  This couldn’t be happening.  Would you be okay?  He had never gotten to tell you how he felt.  Seeing you like this was splitting his soul in two-

“holy shit.”  Sans stepped in as well.  His eyelights were still gone, and his smile was slack on his face.  “oh stars.  we gotta get ya to the hospital.”

“Oh.  Yeah, probably.”  You shrugged.  “Can one of you go turn the oven off?  My nuggets are gonna burn.”

“i got it,” Sans said quickly.  He vanished, and from the kitchen, Papyrus could hear him retching.

Papyrus knelt next to you.  He had helped Undyne with a broken arm once, so he knew how much pain you would be in once the adrenaline wore off.  “DON’T WORRY, WE’LL GET YOU TO A DOCTOR.  WILL YOU BE OKAY IF I PICK YOU UP?”

“Yeah, I should be okay.”  Papyrus carefully, carefully picked you up, trying his best not to jostle you at all.  You winced, but didn’t scream in pain, so that was good.  “Damn, you’re strong!” you said, clearly trying to distract yourself.

“ALL THE BETTER TO HELP YOU, MY DEAR!” Papyrus said, trying to avoid looking anywhere near your ankle.  “SANS!!!!  HURRY UP!!!”

A few seconds later, Sans returned, also not looking at the injured limb.  His face was just even more pale than Slim’s had been.  “yeah, oven’s off, let’s go.”

He put a hand on Papyrus’s shoulder, and the three of you were instantly in the hospital.

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

“You guys can take me back home,” you complained.  “I can take care of myself.”

“IN ANY OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE THAT WOULD BE TRUE,” Scar admitted as he placed a large glass of water on the bedside table.  “HOWEVER, YOU CAN’T EVEN WALK.  YOU’RE STAYING RIGHT HERE.”

You pouted and folded your arms.  After your hospital visit, the skeletons had unanimously decided that you would be staying with them.  Your ankle was so swollen that the doctor’s couldn’t perform surgery yet, so you couldn’t put any weight on it until the next week.  Papyrus shuddered to think of you trying to crawl around the house, before giving up and just walking on your broken foot, hurting yourself even further.

“yeah, you ain’t goin’ anywhere until you’re better.  now shut up and take your drugs,” Butch insisted, shoving your bottle of painkillers into your face.

You laughed and tried to swat him away.  “Jeez, your bedside manner is terrible!  You guys are awful nurses!”

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS THE BEST NURSE!” Papyrus argued, putting a hand on his chest.  “THESE TWO ON THE OTHER HAND…”

“RUDE.  BUT FAIR.”  Scar had to admit.  “REALLY THOUGH, WE ARE GOING TO TAKE CARE OF YOU, NO MATTER WHAT.”

There was a knock on the door, before it swung open.  “GOOD NEWS!” Lucky announced.  He strode happily into the room with Slim and Sans, holding a large grocery bag.  “WE HAVE COME WITH GIFTS!”

“Presents?  For lil’ ol me?” you gasped, putting on a false Southern Belle voice.  “Golly, ya shouldn’t have!”

“too bad, we did,” Slim smiled.  “you’re hurt, so we wanna take care of ya.”

That made a small blush spread across your face, but you quickly covered it up by leaning forward eagerly.  “Well in that case, what did you bring me?”

Sans put the bag on the bedside table.  “to start with, we got ya some more nuggets, since yours went cold while we were in the e.r.”  He put a large container of fast food nuggets in your hand and you gasped.  If you were a skeleton, stars would have appeared in your eyes.  “then we got ya some candy, for emotional support.”

“also a new video game for ya to play while you’re stuck in bed,” Slim said.  “i can set up my system in here for ya.”

“AND THEN I GOT YOU A BOOK OF CROSSWORD PUZZLES, AND…YES!!  THE PIÈCE DE RÉSISTANCE!”

“i tried to veto this but i was outvoted,” Slim interjected.

Ignoring him, Lucky triumphantly pulled out a nightgown.  It had lobsters on it, and the words “Pinch me, I’m dreaming!” on the front.  Your face lit up at the stupid pun, but Papyrus groaned.

“Oh my god, that’s so thoughtful!” you beamed.  “It’s going to be really hard to take pants on and off, so that’s a great idea!  And I love the pun!”

“i knew ya had good taste, doll,” Butch winked.

“I THOUGHT YOU HAD BETTER TASTE,” Papyrus huffed.

“Anyway, I should probably get that on.  And take a bath or something.  And go to bed, it’s been a really, really long day.”  You sighed.  “Thanks again for all your help, guys.”

“do ya need any help with that bath?~”  Butch winked.  He wiggled his bone brows suggestively, just to really drive the point home.

“I mean…maybe, but not from you!” you laughed.  “You’re way too horny to actually help!”

“I CAN HELP!” Papyrus immediately volunteered.  “...IF THAT’S OKAY, OF COURSE.”

You smiled.  “That would be perfect, actually!  I trust you, Papyrus, you’re a gentleman!”

“I’M ALSO A GENTLEMAN,” Scar argued.  “I CAN HELP AS WELL.”

“That is true, but you have those scary claws,” you pointed out.  “No offense, but I don’t want to get stabbed and have a broken bone.

“c’mon, let’s give ‘em some privacy,” Slim said gently.  “they need sleep anyway, gonna be hard with all of us in here.”

The skeletons, besides Papyrus, filed out of the room.  A few of them shot Papyrus jealous glances as they left.  Once they were all gone, Papyrus turned to you.  “LET’S GET YOU CLEANED UP,” he said gently.

Once again, he picked you up bridal style.  He was terrified of jostling your broken bone, so he was sure to treat you like a porcelain doll.  He carried you to the ensuite bathroom and set you on the closed toilet seat.  He turned on the water before turning back to you.  “ARE YOU OKAY WITH GETTING YOUR ANKLE WET?  YOU DON’T HAVE A CAST OR ANYTHING SO IT SHOULD BE OKAY, BUT WILL IT HURT?”

“No, I’ll be fine!” you beamed.  “Can you go grab me my pills while I get undressed?  I should maybe take them now so they kick in once it’s time for bed.”

“GOOD IDEA.”  Papyrus went back to the bedroom and grabbed the pill bottle and the glass of water Scar had left.  He waited politely outside the bathroom door until you shouted that he was okay to come back in.

Keeping his eyes firmly on the ceiling, Papyrus walked back into the bathroom.  He did not want you to feel uncomfortable in the slightest.  You giggled at his actions before taking the pills.  “Can you help me into the tub?” you asked.

Papyrus nodded, and helped you lower yourself into the water using your one good leg.  You winced at the heat, but quickly relaxed.  “This is so nice…you guys are the best,” you sighed happily.  “How did I ever get such good friends…”

“BY BEING YOURSELF,” Papyrus pointed out.  He handed you a rag and some soap.  He gently scrubbed your back while you very carefully washed your ankle.  “YOU’RE WONDERFUL, YOU DESERVE ALL THE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE!”

“Ha, my wonderful stupid self, tripped over my own door mat,” you laughed bitterly.  “If I could just walk straight you wouldn’t have to take care of me…”

Well now, that negative attitude just wouldn’t do!  “Hey,” Papyrus whispered.  He gently gripped your chin and turned your head around so he could look you in the eyes.  “Do Not Speak Poorly About Yourself.  I Am More Than Happy To Help You.  You Would Do The Same For Us, Right?”  You nodded silently.  “Then Let Us Take Care Of You.”

He let go of your chin, and you turned back.  Your skin seemed much hotter than before as Papyrus continued to help you wash.  “T-thank you,” you whispered.

“ANYTHING FOR YOU!”

Once you were finished washing up, Papyrus once again helped you out of the tub and handed you the-ugh-pun filled nightgown.  Gently, he helped you pull the nightgown on.  He would have let you do it yourself, but your painkillers had clearly kicked in much faster than you had expected, and you were having trouble staying balanced.  Even while sitting down you seemed wobbly.

Papyrus scooped you up once again to take you back to bed.  He loved holding you like this, you were so light and cute, and it made him feel strong.  Like he could protect you.  It was a great feeling.

You yawned as Papyrus tucked you into bed.  “Mm…thank you Papy,” you beamed sleepily.  “You’re the coolest.”

“Thank You!  Now, Get Some Rest.”

Papyrus tried to leave, but your hand on his stopped him.  “Hm?  Do You Need Something Else?”

“C’mere.”

Papyrus leaned down.

“Closer.”

Papyrus knelt next to you so his head was right next to you.  “Yes?”

Suddenly, you sat up and pressed a kiss to Papyrus’s teeth.  “Mm…love you…”

You plopped back into bed, and were somehow immediately snoring.  Papyrus was frozen.  You had…kissed him???  On the teeth????  Does that mean you like him????

After a…much longer time than he would like to admit, Papyrus finally came back to reality.  He walked out of the bedroom in a trance.  On his way out, he almost ran into Hound and Noir.

“we weren’t eavesdropping-” Hound quickly said, before freezing.  “you good?”

“YOU LOOK…ORANGE,” Noir half chuckled.  “DID YOU TWO HAVE FUN?~”

“I…UM…” Papyrus’s brain was still working at half speed.  “THEY…KISSED ME??” “WHAT???” Both skeletons shrieked.

“IT WAS PROBABLY JUST THE PAINKILLERS, BUT…YEAH!”

“damn, lucky,” Hound grumbled.  “drunk words are sober thoughts and all that.  i bet they like you more than they let on.”

“REALLY???”

“yeah.  i’ve confessed so much shit while drunk, you have no idea.”

“MAYBE I’LL SEE HOW THEY FEEL ABOUT ME TOMORROW,” Noir thought aloud.

While the two skeletons spoke, Papyrus’s thoughts were back with you.  Did you actually like him?  He liked you, a whole lot.  He just thought you didn’t feel the same!

Well, he would ask you later.  Having you feel the same as he did would be a dream come true!

Papyrus went back to his own room.  Even though he was practically shaking in excitement, he forced himself to stay calm.  Right now, taking care of you was the biggest priority.  He could have a long talk with you later, after you were healed.  In the meantime, he would just have to prove that he could take care of you better than anyone!

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter VIIII.

GIF CREDIT

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: After months of dancing around their emotions, Javier and Paloma finally address the tension between them head-on.

WORD COUNT: ~9.2k

RATING: 18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: smuttt, bulge riding, dry humping, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being an asshole, angst, crime talk (if it's not accurate don't @ me), descriptions of violence against women, vomit mention, slut shaming(?), detective!javi is very gorgeous ME, other things that I'm probably forgetting.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS: The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized, including the usage of the song(s) that Paloma will perform throughout the story.

A/N: we did it… we did it joe !! javi and OFC finally [REDACTED] !! thank u to everyone who has been keepin up w this foolery so far, it makes my lil heart happy to see engagement < 3 also wanna say that years of watching criminal minds is finally starting to pay off and i rly hope u guys are enjoying the crime aspect of the plot because i'm havin A LOT of fun writing and developing it !! shit is gonna get twisted and intricate so brace yourselves for where we're about to go !!! the smut in this chapter is heavily inspired by touch it by ariana grande so i def recommend giving that a listen bc i feel like it just fits their vibe so well (i may or may not have used some of the lyrics in the dialogue.. oop!) last thing sooo irrelevant but mayor abbott looks like jonathan bailey (bridgerton hive RISE!!) in my head so take that as u will xoxo always feel free to drop any type of feedback/support on this blog or ao3. i'd really appreciate it <3

♰  read on ao3. ♰

♰  playlist | pinterest | series masterlist ♰

As the sun casts its golden rays over the quiet outskirts of town, a grim discovery awaits the two men. The body of Jessica Valdez, the young girl reported missing from their neighboring town, lies lifeless in a shallow ditch. Javier stands beside Sheriff Leighton, their expressions grave as they survey the scene before them.

Reporters and curious onlookers have gathered, drawn by the spectacle of flashing lights and the somber atmosphere. A small group of people whisper amongst themselves, their hushed tones mingling with the distant sound of camera shutters clicking.

Romeo’s authoritative presence looms beside him, a pillar of strength in the face of another tragedy. His eyes narrow as they push through the gathered crowd, commanding respect and order in the chaotic scene.

They duck beneath the yellow crime scene tape, ignoring the questions being hurled at them by the press.

“Are there any indications of a motive for this murder?” 

“Is this connected to the similar incidents in the area recently?”

“Is there anything the public can do to assist with the investigation?”

Javier’s stomach churns with sorrow as he takes in the sight. The body lies face down and sprawled in the dirt. He clenches his jaw, steeling himself against the wave of frustration threatening to overwhelm him.

Another failure on their behalf and all he can think about is the kiss shared between him and Paloma.

“Talk to us, Cecelia.” 

“Well, at first glance: the body is still fairly warm so she was alive a few hours ago. It looks like she was held captive somewhere due to the bruising on her wrists and ankles. There are signs of malnourishment and she has smaller injuries scattered throughout her body. I won’t know more details until I do the autopsy.” The coroner answers before continuing,” Her chest is completely slashed through, just like all the others. Still our guy. Or girl–– you never know nowadays.” 

Javier’s jaw flexes out of exasperation, mirroring the heavy sigh that escapes the sheriff’s lips. The weight of this repeated revelation settles over them like a suffocating blanket, casting a shadow over their efforts to uncover the truth.

Despite their tireless pursuit of justice, they find themselves no closer to catching the culprit or unraveling the mystery shrouding these towns. It’s fucking infuriating. 

Amidst the tangled threads of his personal life, Javier has momentarily lost sight of his purpose for being here. He has been too immersed in his own character transformation and entanglement with Paloma, overlooking the harrowing reality unfolding around him: innocent women continuing to fall victim to brutal, senseless violence.

The gravity of his oversight has a mixture of guilt and despair settling deep within his chest. 

Javier prides himself on his prowess, his ability to navigate the most intricate of cases and weather the toughest of storms. As a seasoned field agent with a string of accolades to his name (some undeserved, others very well deserved), he’s faced down challenges that would make others quiver.

Yet here he stands, feeling utterly impotent in the face of this whodunit in the confines of a sleepy town.

It gnaws at him, this sense of inadequacy, like a persistent itch he can’t scratch. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, a humbling reminder of the unpredictable nature of crime and the limits of his own expertise.

He needs to be better.

“What’s interestin’, though, is this,” She stands, motioning for the two men to follow her and they share a look before wordlessly complying. Cecelia hands them both a pair of latex gloves, instructing them to put them on.

They make it a few feet away from Jessica’s body and that’s when Javi sees it.

“Is that vomit?” 

Cecelia nods, “It is. I’m betting it’s hers. The interestin’ bit isn’t that she vomited–– but the contents. Take a look. Tell me what you see.” 

Javier is the first to kneel with Romeo looking over his shoulder. He eyes the evidence, pushing his aviators to the top of his head, making out the larger chunks in the grossly colored bile.

He can’t discern what it is right away and Cecelia encourages him to use his hands, which has him looking at her ludicrously and muttering how gross this shit is in Spanish before doing as suggested.

Poking his latex clad fingers in the mess, Javi analyzes the contents and that’s when he sees a symbol marked in ink on one of the scraps.

“It’s flesh. Human flesh.” 

Shit. He sees it now, the mark is a tattoo and he quickly barks out an order to have one of the lingering deputies come take pictures of it.

“Son of a bitch is feedin’ people… people. Would explain Nina Thorton’s missin’ leg. What the fuck is goin’ on here?” The sheriff sounds defeated and Javier just remains silent as he mulls over all this new information that’s been revealed.

Kidnapped, held hostage, fed human flesh, murdered, dumped.

All the other victims up until now have only been taken then killed. None of them held captive for long. Not all of them consuming flesh.

But then there’s Nina and her postmortem severed leg.

Fuck, the answer is right there, interwoven in the intricacies and lack of details in the cases. 

No more fucking around, no more helping girls sneak back inside their homes, no more distractions. He has to focus on doing his job.

He will catch who did this, he will prove himself to be qualified to do what he was brought here to do.

Javier remains kneeled and deep in thought as Romeo and Cecelia continue on with their observations. He looks around to study their surroundings, wondering if there is anything else that is right in front of him that he cannot see.

“Three outta five have been brunettes around the same age. I think that’s something worth considering now,” Javier breaks up the conversation betweens the sheriff and coroner, both of them turning to look at him as he stands from his kneeled position and begins to take off the gloves,” Seems like they found their type. There’s got to be a purpose for the consistent victimology.” 

They’ve migrated over to Jessica’s body now, both men doing last minute look overs before she is transported back to her hometown for her parents to identify and for Cecelia to preform the autopsy.

When a deputy comes over to take the last bits of photo evidence, he looks sickly but Javier ignores it. It’s not until her body is turned upright, exposing her mauled chest, that has the younger officer hurling over and throwing up, some of it landing on Romeo.

“God fuckin’ damn it, Andrews, spew that shit elsewhere. Fuck, not only are you contaminatin’ the crime scene but you got it all over my damn pants.” 

The sheriff goes on a tangent, chewing the officer out and threatening to suspend him for two weeks with no pay. It’s harsh, Javier will admit, but he doesn’t say anything, remaining stoic with his arms crossed against his chest as he watches it unfold.

Eventually, everyone trickles out. Even the nosey reporters and townies. Javier wants to stay, walk around the area to see if anything else was left behind. Maybe something was dropped or buried nearby, and while they had assured him that others have already done a thorough search–– he’d feel more comfortable if he did it himself.

“Ya mind stoppin’ by my place so I can change? Kid ruined these.” Romeo’s gruff voice has Javier losing his train of thought, too engrossed in looking out into the vast area of the woods as the sun slowly begins to set. 

Right, they arrived together, driving from the station in Javier’s cruiser.

“Sure.” He replies plainly. His plans for the evening now include getting Romeo situated so that he can come back here and investigate all on his own. He might even drive to Fayette to retrieve the autopsy from Cecelia as soon as she completes it.

With the Leighton home being on the other side of town, this gives the two men time to talk the case over; going over all that they know and all that they’ve discovered. Romeo confides in Javier about feeling inadequate about the way he’s doing his job and, in a turn of events, Javier does the same. In his own way.

The mutual understanding is a relief, though the guilt of his kiss with Paloma is palpable and it makes Javi feel like a fraud.

Across from him is a man who has extended nothing but kindness and trust, offering camaraderie and a sense of belonging. Yet, despite this, Javier found himself drawn to his daughter in a way that was both exhilarating and forbidden.

It feels wrong, achingly so. A bitter realization that despite their mutual longing, their connection can never be fully realized. It’s a harsh wake up call: if he truly wants to better himself, he must shed his bad habit of losing himself in women and distance himself from her.

What a discomforting prospect, the inevitable separation. But he knows it’s the only way forward. He understands that in time, they will both resign themselves to the reality of their infatuation.

It’s a familiar ache, this sense of inevitability that haunts his romantic endeavors like a relentless specter. Javier knows the drill all too well; it’s not his first rodeo in navigating the treacherous terrain of severing emotional ties.

His love life feels like a series of missteps, a cursed labyrinth from which there’s no escape. Despite the initial allure of each new romance, he’s come to anticipate the eventual descent into disappointment. No matter how promising the beginning, the journey always seems to lead to the same desolate destination.

With him hurting them beyond measure.

Fuck the idea of reinventing himself here. He can find peace and monotony anywhere else.

Javier will follow through with his responsibilities, and the second he’s able to peel out of Seminary–– he will, leaving her behind as a bittersweet memory. A beautiful yet unattainable dream that he will carry with him for years to come.

As they pull in to the Leighton residence, he sees the woman that lives in his head perched up on the fence that surrounds the immediate area. Her baggy jeans are hanging low, exposing the sheer fabric of her underwear. She turns as she hears the sound of a car approaching, and her lips pull into a smile once she sees who it is.

Paloma fully expected to wake up the following day filled with regret and plagued by a hangover. The only thing she experienced was the latter, but it had quickly been nursed by a greasy breakfast and some yard work.

Javier had kissed her back, that was enough to feed into her delusions that he does want her. All inhibitions have been dropped, she’s prepared to lay herself out for him–– to tell him that she’s wanted him since the moment they met.

It might seem premature, an impulsive plunge into the uncertainty of his reaction to her feelings, but the tender memory of their shared kiss eclipses all rational thought. She finds herself irresistibly drawn to the possibility of something more, unable to resist the pull of her emotions.

His touch still lingers on her skin. His hands tracing the curves of her body with a hunger that left her breathless. She can still feel the way he had grabbed her ass then gripped onto her hips, pulling her closer to him.

But it was his mouth that left the strongest impression. His tongue had explored the depths of hers, tasting and teasing her with a ferocity that made her feel alive.

In that moment, she had felt desired, cherished, and wanted. It was a feeling that she hadn’t realized she craved so badly until last night. She knew that she would never be able to forget that kiss and the way it had made her feel.

She’s giddy, her excitement bubbling up like fizzy soda, reminiscent of the first time she ever kissed a boy. Except Javier isn’t a boy–– he’s a man. A man whose expertise and skill are a potent aphrodisiac, heightening her arousal to levels she never thought possible.

She’s been hot for him all day, even touched herself to the memory of his soft lips, the tickle of his mustache, against hers then imagining them everywhere else. The mere thought of it is enough to send her heart racing, and she knows that nothing will satisfy her until she has him in her arms again.

Romeo gets out the car, muttering that he’d be right back and Javi opts to stay put. He does not want to speak to her, knowing that the second he gazes into those beautiful brown eyes–– he’d buckle. He needs to build animosity between them; it’s the only way for them to definitively be able to separate from one another.

But she doesn’t make it easy, of course. Because the second her father is inside, she’s practically skipping over to the driver’s side of the cruiser.

“Hello officer. Here to bring me in for all those crimes I committed last night?” She teases as she leans her forearms against the rolled down window, the cowgirl hat perched on her head complimenting her so well.

Javier swallows thickly, taking a lengthy drag of the familiar cigarette between his lips. He can’t outright ignore her so he decides to be short instead.

“M’not here for games, Paloma.” 

She’s taken aback by his tone, her smile faltering.

“Well excuse me for tryin’ to make conversation. Wasn’t aware that you’re in a mood today.” 

There’s a pause despite her attempt to add a teasing tone to her words to lighten him up. It falls flat.

“And I’m not looking to have a conversation. You can go.” 

Her brows cinch together at his dismissal, this is not how she was expecting for this to go.

“What’s goin on’? Is this because we… because of the kiss last night?” She lowers her voice towards the end, red blooming across her cheeks but she keeps her composure.

“Jesus,” Javier chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head. It sends a sharp pang through her heart.” Why do you always think that’s the fuckin’ problem whenever I don’t want to talk to you? For someone who claims to be a grown woman all the time, you sure as shit don’t act like it.” 

She stills, the buoyant confidence that had propelled her toward him evaporating in an instant, replaced by a wave of hurt at his unexpected chilliness. What has gotten into him?

“Drop it and move on, Paloma. We just found Jessica Valdez’s body dumped out in a ditch. S’not the time to be hung up on a damn kiss.” 

The sound of the screen door shutting close breaks her away from him and the trance she’d seemingly gone into. Another victim, another tragedy to confront… and here she is acting like a smitten teenaged girl.

The urge to cower and crawl into herself, to surrender to the overwhelming embarrassment and sorrow, threatens to engulf her entirely. She remains silent, fighting back the surge of frustrated, angry tears as she pushes off the car and trudges back toward the house.

Javier exhales heavily once she strides away without a word, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders. He had braced himself for a snide remark or some form of verbal retaliation, but her silent departure was far more impactful.

“I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.” Her father murmurs as he passes her, planting a tender kiss atop her head. He lingers there for a moment but she doesn’t question it, knowing it’s because of what they found today and she doesn’t even mind that he hasn’t told her about it.

As he breaks away, she conjures up a semblance of a genuine smile, masking her turmoil, and nods before he affectionately pinches her nose and continues on his way.

She doesn’t look back, she doesn’t cry or go inside–– instead she picks up her discarded gardening gloves and proceeds to channel her energy into the simple act of mowing the grass.

She finds herself alone at the open bar as the party continues in full swing. It’s been days since Jessica’s death, and the tense conversation she had with Javier still lingers in her mind.

“Drop it and move on, Paloma.” 

Unlike the last time they went without speaking, there is much more tension between them now. The worst part about it is having to act as if nothing is wrong in the presence of her father.

No daddy, everything’s fine! It’s not like I threw myself at your co-worker not once, but twice and both times he made me feel like a fucking idiot!

She lets out a disdainful sigh, her fingers curling around the glass containing her coveted cherry root beer since she’s decided to part ways with alcohol and any other substance for the time being.

The two men are busy mingling with other guests and have been since the moment they arrived. Despite her efforts to divert her gaze elsewhere, her eyes keep involuntarily drifting towards Javier’s broad figure.

The event had called for formal attire, so when he strode in wearing a meticulously tailored all-black suit, her breath caught in her throat. The sharp lines of his outfit, coupled with the crispness of his button-down and the matching tie, made her momentarily forget why she was so upset with him. He looked too damn handsome.

It’s brutal how the things we desire most often seem to radiate the brightest when they’re just out of reach.

Observing him mingle effortlessly with others is entertaining. Contrary to her expectations, he appears completely at ease in this bustling social setting, a far cry from the disdain he expressed for large gatherings that morning in his kitchen.

He’s acting a lot more extroverted and… smile-y. It pisses her off as much as it melts her heart.

They make their way over to her and she makes a point to not even look in his direction. Though now she’s caught between her father and Javier as they order another round of drinks. 

It really doesn’t help that they’re shoulder to shoulder. The heady aroma of his cologne, laced with the familiar tang of cigarette smoke and the faint hint of whiskey, infiltrates her senses, making it impossible to outright ignore him.

Javier Peña is like a blazing beacon and she’s the foolish moth drawn inexplicably closer to his flame. But she knows all too well the danger of getting too close, like a moth singed by the heat, the allure of his brightness can be killer.

Javier had assumed that with news of Jessica being found dead, their attendance to this party wouldn’t be mandatory.

Well, he thought wrong. It is a cruel reminder of how life goes on, even when tragedy strikes.

Another dead girl, another over-the-top party.

Which is why he’ll give it an hour–– tops–– to shake whoever’s hand and meet whoever else, then he’d leave. It’s a simple plan, the only thing making it difficult for him is his proximity to the woman he’s desperately trying to cut ties with.

She looks so beautiful tonight, donning a calf length simple black dress that hugs all her curves just right. 

“There they are! My Law and Order! Y’all keepin’ the townsfolk in line?” The boastful voice of Mayor Jonah Abbott draws near and Javier suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

Foolish of him to think he wouldn’t have to interact with the titular birthday boy tonight.

He greets both men with a firm handshake, and when his attention turns to her; Javier has to drown the subtle spark of frustration with his drink at the way his eyes rake over her body.

“And of course, Miss. Paloma. They say a smile is worth a thousand words, but yours? It’s worth a million dreams.” He brings her hand up to his lips to plant a kiss against her knuckles and all she does is offer him a polite smile. Here we go…

“Mr. Abbott—” 

“Jonah, sweetheart. Been tellin’ you to call me that for years now.” 

Her smile threatens to twitch out of annoyance, “Jonah. Happy Birthday. Thank you for invitin’ us to your home.” 

“Always a pleasure to have you ’round. I heard about your performance up in Dallas. Shame I missed it. Woulda loved to hear that beautiful voice of yours and seen you up on that stage.” 

Javier can’t help the subtle grunt he emits at the mayor’s overt flirtation, causing for her to just briefly glance up at him with a bemused flash crossing her stare.

The familiarity of Jonah’s behavior strikes a chord within him. Once upon a time, Javier was just like this–– an arrogant charmer with a penchant for flirting with anything in a skirt. Standing here amidst the other man’s smooth talk, he sees through the facade with clarity born of experience.

It’s a performance, an act to charm his way in between Paloma’s legs, though Javi can clearly see that she’s not falling for it. Does Romeo notice it too, he wonders? Or is he blinded by the mayor’s charisma, unable to see that this man clearly wants to sleep with his daughter.

Then again, Javier’s opinion on this is irrelevant and invalid since he too has been in the same predicament since meeting her. At least he didn’t do it blatantly in front of the sheriff’s face.

Or, in a turn of events, perhaps Romeo doesn’t give a damn. Jonah Abbott presents himself as a viable candidate to be with his daughter; a young politician with deep pockets and a keen interest in her.

Javier can’t shake off the mental picture of the man’s wedding ring adorning her finger, of her transforming into the perfect, submissive wife, tending to the household and filling this place with snot nosed kids. But such a scenario doesn’t align with her fiery and headstrong nature. She’s far too independent and spirited to succumb to the confines of domesticity, particularly for a man like Jonah.

Then again, why the fuck does he care?

“Well as you know, I do two shows every weekend at The Whiskey Fox. Could always stop by and see me and the band.” 

“A busy man like myself always has a full schedule. Though I reckon I should make some time to be out in the community. Wouldn’t hurt to stop by for dinner and a show.” 

He winks at her and of course he does it when her father turns to order himself another drink. Javier’s jaw flinches.

“Now Romeo, why have you been keepin’ this badass motherfucker hidden from me? I knew we had someone new joinin’ the force but I didn’t think it’d be the Javier Peña. A goddamn American hero— right here in Seminary, Texas!” 

As Jonah begins his praises, pairing them with a harsh slap to his shoulder, Javier remains cool and calculating. He refuses to be swayed by empty compliments.

Meanwhile, she breathes a silent sigh of relief as the spotlight shifts away from her, and she finds it amusing at how everyone seems to talk about Javier.

A hero. A true patriot. Such a brave soul for fightin’ the war on drugs on Uncle Sam’s behalf.

If only they knew the truth––if they had even a glimpse of the darkness he’s had to face, they wouldn’t be so quick to idolize him.

The label of hero, bestowed upon him since the demise of Escobar, sits uneasily on his shoulders. The adulation feels like a burden he never asked for, a title he never wanted. It’s a reminder of the complexities of his past, the mistakes he’s made, and the ghosts that continue to haunt him. Javi despises the word, resenting the way it overshadows his true self and the countless sins he harbors in silence.

“Gotta keep ’em humble. Keeps the head on straight.” Romeo banters back, pulling one of those haughty, rich men laughs from the mayor. 

She cringes at the pretentiousness echoing in the air.

The men break out into small talk leaving her feeling awkward as she swirls the almost fully melted ice around the empty cup. It’s not until Jonah is getting ready to move on to a new set of guests that the attention is turned back to her.

“And you, pretty girl, owe me a song. Specifically that one Linda Ronstadt song from the Fourth of July barbecue last year. Remember? S’only fair… consider it a birthday gift from you to me.” 

Despite her inner discomfort, she maintains a face of cheerfulness, though her stomach sinks with apprehension at his request. Memories of the barbecue flood her mind, vivid recollections of his relentless pursuit despite her repeated, albeit polite, refusals.

The word ’no’ is on the tip of her tongue, but knowing all too well the persistence he’s exhibited before; she succumbs to the weight of the occasion—his birthday—and the anticipation in his eyes.

“Blue Bayou, I remember. Does the band know it?” She inquires, her gaze flickering towards the live band stationed near the open area of the dance floor where a throng of people sway to the music.

She’s secretly hoping that they don’t, but the song is very popular so her hope dwindles.

“If they don’t, they will. I’ll introduce you when it’s time.” 

With a tight and forced smile gracing her lips, she simply replies, “Okay,” accompanied by a subtle nod. His wicked grin spreads larger, almost daring Javier to react by punching him square in the jaw.

Regardless of how he feels towards her and their situation, it irks him to no end how this man blatantly disregards her boundaries.

Her body language screams apprehension, evident to anyone observant enough. However, Mayor Abbott is too fixated on persuading her to comply with his wishes to take notice. It’s apparent that he’s not accustomed to hearing the word ’no’.

Javi just holds his tongue, an insult threatening to slip out, as he finishes his drink with a practiced air of nonchalance.

The mayor finally says his goodbyes before walking away and her shoulders drop instantly.

“Guess I owe ya twenty bucks.” Romeo mutters, digging into his suit pocket for his wallet. 

The laugh she gives, though slight, simultaneously soothes and torments his heart.

Damn it all— this is going to be torture but he must endure.

“She bet that he was gonna pull somethin’ like this before leavin’ the house. I was dumb enough to think he wouldn’t.” He explains to Javier as he slips his daughter the twenty dollar bill which she slyly stuffs under the fabric of her dress by her chest.

The action, seemingly simple, is so hot to him.

“How many times do I have to say m’not a damn show pony that does tricks whenever it’s asked? He’s so lucky that I’m polite and that it’s his birthday— If not I woulda told him to shove it—-” She doesn’t finish her sentence as they’re approached by a group of people that she doesn’t recognize nor care for.

She feels like an afterthought as they bombard the men with questions about the recent cases and other related topics, so she takes that as her cue to leave, ordering another mocktail before slipping away towards the dance floor.

She is fully prepared to turn her brain off to enjoy some semblance of normalcy before she’s thrown back in to the confusing pit that is her current status with the former DEA agent.

Attempting to convince herself that she’s enjoying the moment, she sways to the lively rhythm of the music, lost in her own solitary dance. A few partygoers approach her asking to join her which she declines; peeved by all the unwanted attention she’s getting.

This isn’t even her party. She holds no merit here.

Javier only catches glimpses of her from his peripheral, engrossed in a conversation with a man who remembers him from his sheriff days in Laredo, before he left for Colombia. The discourse drones on, punctuated by forced laughter and idle pleasantries. Each word falls flat, devoid of substance, yet Javier remains steadfast. Anything to keep him and his mind away from her.

Suddenly, the screeching sound of microphone feedback reverberates off the opulent walls of the ballroom-style space and she winces at noise.

“Excuse me, sorry–– I’m not very good with these things.” The man of the hour apologizes, his voice crackling through the speakers. She inwardly curses, anticipating what’s to come next. Setting her now-empty glass down on one of the nearby tables, she smooths her hands along the velvety fabric of her dress, ironing out any wrinkles, and hastily fixes her hair as best as she can without a mirror.

With a deep breath, she pushes down her nerves, summoning a smile to face the adversity when he introduces her. She steps onto the stage, the room erupting into scattered applause as she approaches the microphone.

♫

Midway through the song, to her surprise, Jonah joins her on stage, transforming the solo performance into an unexpected duet. Despite her inner discomfort, Paloma maintains a composed expression and tries to conceal any hint of surprise in her body language as he draws nearer.

Her unease heightens when he pulls her close against him, the heat of his body against hers as they sway to the rhythm of the music during the instrumental interlude of the country song. She reluctantly complies, her compliance more a result of avoidance of potential consequences than genuine willingness to dance with him.

The sight of his possessive grip on her waist, pulling her into an unwelcome dance, ignites a surge of vexation within Javier. He feels the tension in his muscles coil tighter with each step they take, their bodies moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. It’s unbearable to watch, the image of Paloma in Jonah’s arms twisting like a knife in his gut.

Without a word, Javier makes his escape, his strides purposeful as he navigates through the crowded room. He mutters a vague excuse to Romeo, the urgency in his voice betraying his need to flee from the suffocating scene unfolding before him.

Finally stepping out into the cooler night air, Javier takes a deep breath to soothe his frazzled nerves. He makes his way towards a gazebo that’s right by the large pond, putting as much distance as he can between himself and the party inside.

Leaning against the railing of the structure, he retrieves his trusty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, hands trembling slightly as he lights one. Each drag offers a fleeting moment of respite from the turmoil brewing inside him.

Inside, the song ends and she wastes no time in descending the stage, a sense of urgency propelling her movements. She refuses to linger, her mind consumed with the dread of another unwanted encounter with the mayor. Surveying the crowded room, she searches in vain for her father or Javier, but they’re nowhere to be found amidst the sea of faces.

Determined to escape the party atmosphere, Paloma makes a beeline for the exit, craving the solace of the summer night air. Stepping out onto the back porch, she inhales deeply, the breeze offering a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the event.

The night is alive with subtle sounds—toads croaking in the distance, the distant murmur of conversation—but it’s the solitary figure in the distance that captures her attention. With a sense of inevitability, Paloma finds herself drawn towards the silhouette, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she descends the steps leading to the gazebo.

When she approaches, Javier remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the tranquil expanse of water before him. The rhythmic puff of his cigarette punctuates the silence, a tangible barrier between them. Despite the tension hanging in the air, Paloma presses forward, her resolve unyielding as she closes the distance between them.

“We need to talk.” 

He stands like a statue, the weight of her words are heavy, yet he remains resolute in his silence, hoping that she’ll simply give up and leave him be. But Paloma is nothing if not persistent, her frustration bubbling over as she confronts him.

“Fuck, Javier will you at least look at me?! Acknowledge that I’m standin’ here tryin’ to speak with you?!” Her voice crackles with pent-up emotion, her southern accent thick as each word is laden with an intensity that he can’t ignore.

Reluctantly, he turns his head slightly, his gaze skimming over her figure with resignation. It’s a small concession, but it’s enough to stoke the fire of her frustration to new heights.

“I dunno why you’ve decided to be such a jerk to me all of the sudden,” she continues, her tone laced with a raw edge of hurt and confusion. “You’re tellin’ me that I’m bein’ childish a-and that I need to move on from the kiss but we both know it’s so much bigger than that. We’ve been dancin’ around it since the moment we met and I’m tired of pretendin’ like I don’t want you.” 

His eyes close briefly, a fleeting moment of vulnerability before he retreats behind his stoic facade once more. His fingers find their way to the bridge of his nose, pinching tightly as he struggles to find the right words to respond. But before he can form a coherent thought, she presses on, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession.

“I told myself I wouldn’t care if you didn’t feel the same way,” She admits, her voice growing softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. “But that was before I got to know you. Before you somehow wriggled your way into my heart and overtook my mind entirely. We became friends, and I-I didn’t want to screw that up. But then we kissed, and in that moment, I knew you wanted me just as badly…” 

She draws closer, her hand reaching out tentatively to rest on his shoulder, the touch sending a jolt of tension through his body. It’s a silent plea, a manifestation of her vulnerability, and it’s all he can do to keep his composure still as her words wash over him like a hurricane.

“Every time I see you I don’t want to behave, Javi. I’m tired of being patient, so let’s pick up the pace and finally give in.” 

He flicks his finished cigarette out into the water, the ember trailing like a shooting star before disappearing into the dark abyss below.

Slowly, he turns to face her fully, the summer air crackling with tension as he takes in her determined stance. His hand shoots out, grabbing hold of the wrist that had just been resting on him, his dark eyes boring into hers in an act of intimidation.

But Paloma doesn’t back down, her gaze unwavering as she meets his stare head-on. Instead, she brings her free hand up to rest against his chest, the heat of her touch seeping through the fabric of his shirt as she steps closer, closing the gap between them until his dress shoes are toe-to-toe with her pointed heels.

He doesn’t make an effort to step away or decline her advances, his resolve crumbling in the face of her determination. Her words have jumbled him up completely, the sudden revelation of her feelings catching him off guard and leaving him reeling. The direct mention of what they’ve been indulging in for the past few months digs into his achilles’ heel—his tendency to fall in love in the damndest of times.

He stares down into her eyes, a storm of conflicting emotions raging wildly. The lust swirling in her gaze stirs something primal and raw within him. Any rational part of his brain seems to shut down in that moment, his thoughts consumed by the overwhelming desire to kiss her again, to lose himself in the exhilarating whirlwind of emotions that she evokes from him.

“It’s obviously insane, m’not a fucking idiot I understand the repercussions…. but we both know what we want, so why don’t we…” She whispers, tilting her head up until their lips brush against one another.

“Why don’t we fall in love?” 

It’s not clear who makes the first move, but their lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss—a fierce collision of desire and pent-up longing that surpasses the one they had previously shared. Paloma’s hand on his chest clenches the fabric of his shirt while Javier relinquishes his grip on her wrist, his own hands rising to cradle her jaw in his palms.

The taste of the lingering cigarette smoke mingles with the faint bitterness of alcohol on his breath, a heady combination that heightens her desire. She moans softly into his mouth, her tongue intertwining with his in a desperate attempt to savor every fleeting moment before it inevitably slips away.

Javier, consumed by the intoxicating sensation, slowly walks her back until her back is against the sturdy pillar of the gazebo, his movements now possessive and urgent. He deepens the kiss, molding his body against hers as if to merge their souls into one.

Her touch is addicting, a bittersweet symphony that resonates in the depths of his bones. Despite the warnings screaming in the recesses of his mind, urging him to stop and pull away, he finds himself unable to resist the magnetic pull she exerts over him.

Breaking the kiss, Javier’s lips trail down the side of her mouth, blazing a trail of heated kisses along her jawline before descending to her neck. His teeth graze her delicate skin, resisting the urge to leave a trail of marks in their wake as his tongue traces a path along her neck and up to her earlobe, where he bites down gently.

“Is this what you wanted, nena? For me to shower you in my fucking attention?” He husks, his voice thick with desire and a hint of frustration. His words swim between them, a question laced with layers of longing and palpable need, as he continues to lavish attention upon her neck, each kiss and caress fueling the flames of their mutual desire.

Paloma just whines, arching herself into him as her thighs rub together to relieve the tension of arousal that is assaulting her core.

“Yes, Javi, that’s all I want. I want you to talk to me, to touch me, to make me feel good.” 

Her hands are now against his broad shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his suit jacket as she feels the muscles beneath tense at her touch. A low, guttural groan escapes his lips in response to her words, a primal sound that sends shivers down her spine.

“I can make you feel good, hermosa. Better than any fucking culero (asshole) in this town.” He murmurs, his voice dripping with possessiveness. With deliberate intent, Javi begins to hike up her long dress, the fabric yielding easily to his touch until it’s gathered at the top of her thighs, exposing her black, lacey panties. His hands roam lower, trailing a path of electricity along her skin until they find purchase behind her thighs, gripping the soft skin firmly as he effortlessly lifts her into his arms.

She wraps her legs around his waist, anchoring herself to him as he hoists her up against the solid pillar of the gazebo. She feels his hardness pressing up against her clothed cunt and it has a sharp pang of pleasure sprouting at her core, igniting a fierce heat to course through her entirely. His touch is addicting, sending waves of ecstasy rippling through her body as she surrenders to the intrinsic urgency of their shared horniness.

The pure conviction in his tone only adds to the intensity of the moment. She wants nothing more than to be completely ruined by this man. She wants to be his, and his alone.

Javier grinds his hips up, the friction between them firing up every nerve ending. Her pussy throbs with need, aching for more of his touch. She can feel every inch of him pressing against her, his hard cock straining against his pants, begging to be released.

As their bodies move in perfect harmony, she wraps her fingers in his hair, tugging at it lightly. His lips move from her neck and crash against hers, a wild, passionate kiss that leaves them both panting for air. It grows more frenzied, their teeth clashing together in a desperate and selfish need for more. She moans into his mouth, the sound sending a jolt of electric arousal straight to his cock. He grinds harder against her, his hips moving in rhythm with hers.

She can feel her orgasm building, a fierce heat blossoming at her pussy. Her whimpers turn to animated moans as she writhes against him. The last time she dry humped someone to completion had been way back in high school and that had been an overall embarrassment so it’s never something she revisited.

Not until now, with Javier who is making her feel like she’s the only girl in the fucking world.

His fingers expertly cup her breast, teasing her hardened nipple through the fabric of her dress. She arches her back, pressing her chest into his hand, silently begging for more. He takes the hint, groping her and squeezing it gently, relishing in the way she shudders.

Her eyes close in ecstasy as he continues to knead her tit. His other hand trails along her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the heat between her legs. When he finally reaches her core, she gasps, her body trembling with need. He doesn’t touch her, instead he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of her thigh.

“If this is what you wanted so fucking bad then go ahead and take it, needy girl. Go on, make yourself cum by grinding that wet pussy all over me.” 

She mewls, throwing her head back as she feels her orgasm building. She’s such a sight to bear witness to, how her swollen lips part and his name slips from her tongue like a hymn, making his cock twitch.

Her wetness seeps through her flimsy thong, leaving a damp spot on the fabric of his dress pants. He can feel it seeping through the material and it drives him mad. He needs to be inside her, to feel her walls fluttering around his cock as they finally give in to each other…

But first, he wants to watch her unravel just like this.

“I’m close, Javi…” His lips hungrily devour the tender flesh of her neck again, making her eyes roll back as their hips continue to move at a sensual pace. The metallic zipper of his pants brushes against her sensitive clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her body. She can’t help but cry out in sweet surrender, her voice louder than before.

His large hand clamps over her mouth, preventing her screams from echoing out.

“Don’t get us caught, chiquita. Wouldn’t want your daddy comin’ out here and findin’ you like this–– all cockdrunk and begging to be fucked.” 

His dirty and abrasive words are like fuel to the flames of her impending climax, sending her spiraling out of control. Her rhythm stutters, her body writhing uncontrollably as she bites down on the skin of his palm as the orgasm overtakes her entirely.

All that can be heard is their heavy, shared pants. His hand falls from her mouth as she falls limp in his arms, her body jolting every now and again with the aftershock of her intense orgasm. 

She peppers tender kisses along the bare expanse of his jaw, silently berating him for having his shirt buttoned up for once and the pesky tie restricting her from licking and biting against the tantalizing skin of his neck and collarbone.

“Need… need to feel you, Javi, please.” She whines against his ear, her hands trailing down from his broad shoulders, over his chest, then down to his belt buckle. She can still feel the swell of him pressed up against her sopping cunt and despite just coming hard; she’s craving to feel all of him.

This is the pivotal moment where he knows he should exercise restraint, where the noble path of virtue beckons him to rise above the consuming tide of desire. To explain to her that they can and never will be anything but an unattainable fantasy.

But he doesn’t, instead Javi lets her untuck his dress shirt from his pants and helps her with unbuckling his belt.

“We shouldn’t do this, Paloma…” Is all he can say in an attempt to keep it from happening but she shushes him, her hand slipping beneath his boxers as she wraps her manicured fingers around his girth and begins to pump him slowly.

“Mierda,” He curses in Spanish, his forehead falling gently against hers as his eyes flutter close at the overwhelming feeling of her softer, smaller hand jerking him off. Her thumb glides over the tip, spreading his excessive precum over the length of his cock.

“But we want to… oh you’re so big Javi. Gonna be feelin’ you for days…” She sounds like something out of a wet dream and he simply can’t hold back any longer.

He instructs her to grab his wallet from his suit pocket and to retrieve the condom he keeps in there, receiving a playful eye roll from her but she doesn’t push her luck–– she needs him badly and she’d go absolutely feral if he decided to deny them both the pleasure of fucking.

His strong hold on her keeps them secure against the pillar, she rips the small package with her teeth then pushes his pants down enough to release his erection, rolling the latex on easily.

There’s a moment where suspension hangs in the air, both of them staring into each other’s lust blown eyes.

“Don’t think about it too much, please. Just fuck me.” 

Her insistence is such a turn on, spurring him into reaching down to ball up the thin layer of her panties before he yanks them off, the sound of the fabric tearing apart causing her to gasp. Stuffing the ruined material into his back pocket, he readjusts his hips so that the thick head of his cock presses up against her exposed and puffy folds.

“Such an impatient little thing, hermosa. I shouldn’t even give you what you want. Should just walk away and leave you here a desperate and wet mess.” 

Gripping onto the base of his cock with his free hand, Javier nudges it between her slit and teases her, the head repeatedly brushing against the pearl of her clit.

Her breath hitches, rolling her hips to entice him into entering her, “Please, Javi, I’ll do whatever you want just plea–– oh f-fuck!” 

He sinks into her pussy, leaning forward to bite down on her shoulder to keep his own sounds of pleasure at bay as he feels the way her fleshy walls contract around his cock, stretching her with how thick he is.

Her fingers return to intertwine themselves in his hair as he begins to set a delicious pace, fucking into her with a passion that’s making her see stars. The feeling of his teeth digging into her skin is an added stimulant to the already immense pleasure.

“Damn it you’re so tight. Feel so good wrapped around my cock, pretty girl. You satisfied now that I’m giving you what you want, huh?” He grunts out, nipping at her jawline as all she does is keen and moan, too overwhelmed with how good he’s making her feel. “Spoiled little thing, gonna fuck that right out of this tight little body. So you can learn, fuck, learn how not to be such a fucking pain in my ass.” 

She’s too wrapped up in the feeling of him brushing up against her cervix to fully process what he is saying against her skin. Their lips slant over each other as they kiss messily, the way he fucks her making her brain melt.

There’s no thoughts up there, just the feeling of him as he continues to break her open with his delicious cock.

His hands fall down to her waist, holding on tightly as he goes from languid thrusts to a quicker, more brutal pace as they chase their orgasms.

She’s glad that they’re far away enough to where no one can interrupt this moment, though the idea of there being an onlooker does entice her more than she’d ever admit. 

Her legs tighten around his waist, the pointed heel of her shoes digging into his backside as she feels a knot forming at the pit of her stomach, indicating that she isn’t far from coming undone.

“C’mon nena, be a good girl and let go,” His thumb finds itself being pressed against her soft lips and immediately she opens her mouth, licking around then sucking the digit and maintaining eye contact through it all. It has Javier grunting out a few expletives before letting his saliva coated thumb drop between them, rubbing tight circles against her clit.

This has her clenching around him and crying out, which causes a smirk to tug at his lips as he puts more pressure onto her clit.” Tan bonita así, toda lista para mi. (So pretty like this, all ready for me)” 

She tugs harshly at his hair at the sound of his Spanish, her arousal topples over and her second orgasm hits her like toppling bricks. She squeezes his cock tightly inside her, her legs an iron grip on his waist as she bites down harshly on her bottom lip, almost drawing blood, to keep her intense whimpers and moans from spilling out and drawing attention to them.

Satisfied that he’s made her unravel on him, Javier fucks her through her orgasm relentlessly until he’s spilling into the condom, burying his face in her neck, right where he can feel her pulse, and grazing the skin with his teeth. He wants to leave a mark, for her to walk around with evidence of him on her body but that’d be a wrong move atop of all the other wrong moves he’s made tonight.

Paloma breathes heavily, mind hazy as she tries to recollect herself from the throes of passion bestowed upon her by Javier Peña. They stay there, embraced in one another before he pulls out of her with a grunt and she whines at the loss of him.

Her legs unwrap from his waist as he tentatively sets her down, discarding of the condom into the water as he tucks himself back into his pants and she pulls her dress down, not even bothered by the fact that he ripped her underwear right off of her.

“That was a mistake.” 

His statement cuts through the night air and she’s already struggling to catch her footing on wobbly legs, the effect of being fucked hard and good.

“Javi––” 

“No, Paloma, I’m fucking serious.” He asserts, his voice taking on a sharp edge, landing like a heavy blow on her already rattled nerves.

“All that sentimental bullshit you were saying before… it means nothing to me. You’re just a distraction–– a pretty face that’s been keeping me from doing my damn job. Now, there’s another life lost, and instead of finding answers, I’m too busy babysitting you.” 

“Don’t you dare pin your incompetence on me, Javier,” She shoots back, her tone tinged with anger and frustration,” I’ve seen my father struggle with this bullshit for months now–– it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you. S’not my fault you’re not as clever as everyone thinks you are. All the praise you get for being such a fuckin’ hero and yet… look at you. Unable to meet the expectations.” 

She adjusts the thin straps of her dress back up her shoulder, wincing slightly as she brushes against the bite mark he accidentally left against her skin, knowing that she’s going to feel that atop of the soreness between her legs after this.

She braces herself for the inevitable discomfort that will follow, both physically and emotionally.

Javier’s jaw tightens, muscles rippling beneath his skin as he fights to maintain his composure. He knows better than to let her words get to him the way that they are.

This is exactly what they need, some intense fight to fully shatter the illusion of their involvement.

“Look at you, Paloma,” He sneers, his words dripping with contempt as he levels a scornful gaze at her. “Throwing yourself at me every chance you get like a whore. I used to pay for shit like this, but you? Oh, I didn’t spare a fucking dime. Giving it all up for free.” 

Her jaw drops, a surge of anger and indignation flooding her senses as his words cut through her like a knife. She raises her hand instinctively, intent on delivering a stinging rebuke in the form of a slap across his jaw. But before she can make contact, his grip tightens around her wrist, arresting her movement with an iron grip.

“Don’t be stupid, querida,” He mocks her, his voice laced with disdain as he delivers each word like a venomous dagger. “Now that I fucked you one good time: Leave. Me. Alone. How ’bout you go back inside and fraternize with the mayor. I’m sure he’s eager to give you all the male validation you’re clearly chasing after.” He tilts his head, glaring at her in contempt. “Better yet, run off to your junkie, criminal boyfriend; won’t be long before he knocks you up and you’re stuck living in a run down trailer park in this shitty fucking town.” 

Paloma’s heart shatters at his callous words, tears welling up in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks unchecked. She gazes up at Javier, but the man before her is no longer the sweet, charming figure she thought she knew. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now glint with coldness and malice, rendering him unrecognizable to her.

“Fuck you,” She spits, wrenching her hand free from his grip with a mixture of anger and hurt flashing in her eyes. Despite the tears welling up, she summons every ounce of defiance to shoot him a disdainful glare. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier Peña.” 

With those final words, ones he’s heard a plethora of times before, she whirls around, her footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden stairs as she races to the nearest bathroom.

Ignoring the throbbing ache between her legs, she finds solace in the confines of the lavish restroom, allowing herself to unleash the torrent of tears pent up inside. Feeling foolish and utterly used, she wonders how she could have ever fallen for a man like him.

Meanwhile, Javier is left grappling with the sight of her heartbreak now etched into his memory. Pushing aside his own conflicted emotions, he knows he can’t afford to let their tangled affair distract him any longer.

This is what you both needed. He reminds himself, looking out into the water as the silver moonlight reflects off of the surface. Harsh, but she’ll get over it.

With a resigned sigh, he retrieves another cigarette, the familiar ritual offering a fleeting sense of calm amidst the storm raging about.

[dirtreally]

The ideal toy/action figure is

1) a robot: even if its a really good action figure of like a person or whatever theres always gonna be some disconnect because you cant fucking hide the joints man. And even if you can people just do not articulate like that. If you move your arm your body stretches too. If your toy is a robot it becomes way more convincing as a gestalt being

2)poseable as fuck: rheres so many insanely detailed figurines of like batman or whatever the fuck and hes got bulge definition and kevlar and whatever the fuck but hes a-posingand you can only rotate the arms. Whats the fucking point at that point man.

2.5) it should specifically also have an ab crunch. Ive seen third party transformers that can do an ab crunch while rotating the upper and middle body sections independently and that shit is crazyyyyyyy. It for real adds so much life and presence to poses. The bastard thing about normal hasbro transformers is that they will never ever ever ever make one that has an ab crunch and it makes me so so sad

3) it should transform and/or combine: u gotta give me something to do with it man. Tangentially related but city/base transformers suuuuuck.

Uh huh yeah man thats a city

3.5) it cant be too big or small: if its too big then playing with it becomes insanely unwieldy. The big transformer toys have also had historically awful articulation because of their size. If the toy is too small Its Fine but like deluxe - voyager - leader class ones always feel the best in hand ino. This is why i do not fuck with diaclone.

4) it has to come preassembled it cant be some model kit shit. Sorry im not a real one. Im not about that life. I built a cool (NON GUNDAM!!!!) robot earlier this year and i attached his arm wrong and didnt realise until after i cemented it together and im still recovering. Generally speaking model kits are also mostly hollow inside so theyre less weighty and feel less good to play with.

5) it cant be TOO stylised. This is probably the most contentious one since this is more just a result of me not being The Target Audience but like. Transformers animated optimus prime should not fucking exist in the material realm.

This thing doesnt want to exist. Of course theres the inverse of this where they try way too hard to make it realistic and its like a hypergreebled thing but like thats basically a problem only a specific genre of third party figurines have. The bayformers toys were really good imo cuz they had a lot of detail but still felt very much like A Touy

FINAL THOTS

Every night i see them in my dreams

I know one of them doesnt have an ab crunch but squeezeplay more than makes up for it with the headmaster gimmick and the insane fucking alt mode. Sometimes Just Balling Out Works. This is why i have injector and hes one of my favourite designs transformers has ever done. They for real need to do more shit like him and less Another Guy That Transforms Into A Car But This Time Its 2% More Show Accurate. Its not like i deliberately only fuck with transformers that transform into animals BUT they gotta start finding weirder vehicles to make these from. A helicopter made out of rocks does not count.

I know theres other transforming toy franchises but theyre always either some boutique shit where each toy is 200 dollars or sentai. Which has the problem of not having a lot of articulation (this is fine because these are meant for like 8 year olds but also i straight up dropped boonboomger because every combination theyve given the robot has sucked ass and not even in a fun way like zyuohger). I know theyre doing smp minipla versions that are way more poseable now but again. I dont want to do model kits.

I also really fucking love it when a mecha has like an insane number of guys combining into it. Probably the one time where i will forgive a lack of poseability. Shout outs to go-onger engine oh g12 and boukenger ultimate daibouken (though i feel like this one kind of has a lot less visual impact than the has-1-less-guy super daibouken). The kingohger mecha was a huge disappointment because they wanted to make him one of those guys but by the time they actually combine all 20 bugs literally like a third of them are attached to the back. I feel like relegating a bunch of your guys to Backpack Duty is super cheating. Also the regular nonsupercombined kingohger mecha has spiders on his dick.

[spacenintendogs]

Trick or treat?

TREAT!!!! have a modern au scenario i just came up with!!

hiccup & stoick have a talk

Hiccup crosses his arms and sulks as he sits in the front seat of the car. His father climbs into the driver's seat. Hiccup turns his head away to avoid seeing his father's hands grip the wheel. He always holds the wheel before starting the car like this when he wants to talk. And he should be sighing- yes. There it is.

"Hirschel," Stoick begins.

"Dad, I know," Hiccup interrupts, sinking further into the seat as he keeps his eyes out towards his window. "I'll stop going out when you're not looking and I'll get my grades up. Throw away the only things I'm passionate about so I can get a 'real job.'"

"Y'don't gotta have an attitude about this," Stoick says. The disappointment in his tone does nothing for Hiccup anymore. "I'm not asking you to throw what you love away, but to prioritize what you're doing with where you're at now in your life."

"Gee, hearing that makes me wish I had bulging muscles like Snotlout and join the football team. You'd let me focus my time in that if I had two braincells and had the body for spine injuring, concussion causing sports," Hiccup grumbles.

"Don't talk about your cousin like that. Don't call him that name either, it's rude." Stoick scolds. Hiccup rolls his eyes at his father. "Don't roll your eyes at me."

"Snotlo- Gary, is rude. And you're not denying what I said. If I were sneaking out to go train for something YOU cared about, you'd not give a shit about how I'm doing in school! Or that I don't listen to you."

"My problem isn't WHAT you're doing, it's HOW you go about it. I'd be telling you the same thing no matter what you'd be doing," Stoick says. "It's just... sneaking away to the Sanctuary when yer mother isn't even here, hell NO adult is there... I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know what I'm doing! Mom taught me what I need to know!" Hiccup says as he flails his arms about in frustration. "I know how to handle myself better than you do! I'm not gonna lose a limb or something."

"Hirschel, dragons are still animals, and animals are unpredictable, even if you know every last detail about them. Going there at night by yourself without anyone knowing just so you can get closer, it's not safe for you!"

"What so I should just wait for Mom get home so I can go over and be fine and dandy, guaranteed?"

"Your mother barely comes home as it is," Stoick says, sighing.

"Given your charming demeanor, I can see why," Hiccup mutters under his breath. He pauses and continues his refusal to look at his father, especially now that he's gone too far. There's a long, long, beat of silence that makes Hiccup's heart race. If there's a time for his father to yell, it'd be now.

Except he doesn't.

Hiccup sits up straight as the car starts. He feels a lump in his throat at hearing a sniffle from his father.

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry. I-I don't- It's not your fault she's never here, I just... I feel so trapped and even if I were to ask you'd probably say no... I just. I'm sorry."

Stoick sighs and Hiccup winces.

"I know, lad," Stoick says softly. Hiccup can see his father wiping a tear away out of the corner of his eye. "I don't know what to say anymore, you know?"

"I know, Dad."

There's another beat of silence.

Hiccup finally turns and looks his father in the eyes. "... Can we go home, please?"

"Aye, we can do that."

As they head home, Stoick clears his throat.

"Not this weekend, but next weekend, two weeks from now, if you can at least bring your Math grade up by one letter, I can take you in the evening after the Sanctuary closes. You can... show me what you've learned."

Hiccup huffs and feels a small bit of relief in his chest. "Deal."

[navalcriminalimagines]

Can you write another/the following part of "Oh, you're jealous"?

This is going to become a smut series. There's so much more to come! 👀

Warnings: pure smut, dom!Gibbs, boobjob, fingering, bathroom sex, orgasm denial, anal talk

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

NCIS Discord server: https://discord.gg/7YDHXd3q

Yes, sir

You didn't stop the flirting, you actually increased it. Gibbs wasn't really jealous anymore, because he knew why you did it, but he'd play along. It would give him the right to punish you once he took you home and boy, did he have many ideas in mind.

He watched you dance with Tony. Your body was extremely close to his, he could see his Agent enjoying how your hips were swaying against his. It wasn't really fair for Tony, he clearly had a crush on you. But Gibbs also knew the man would have another crush by the following week.

When you walked to the counter to order another drink, you felt Gibbs's body pressing against yours. "You fucking brat." he growled in your ear, causing you to laugh. "After that drink, you're done. I want your head to be clear enough for what will happen when we get home."

"Who said I was coming home with you tonight?" you grabbed your drink that the bartender put in front of you and thanked him. You were discreetly grinding your ass against Gibbs's crotch and you could feel a consequent bulge in his pants. Before you could take a sip of your drink, he grabbed the glass from your hand, drank it all and took your hand in his.

Gibbs didn't care much if people saw the two of you entering the restroom. Actually, he hoped some people did. Especially men, that may think what a damn lucky bastard he was. Cause he fucking was.

He had a plan and he was going to stick with it. He pinned you against the wall and worked on your jeans. He didn't even bother to kiss you. "You're gonna regret everything you did tonight." He looked deep in your eyes, you were sure he could see your soul. You were pouting, waiting for a fierce kiss that never came.

Gibbs slid his hand into your panties and you jolted at the physical contact. "I hope DiNozzo didn't make you this wet." He said, with a husky voice and you shook your head no. "Tell me who's responsible for this." It was an order. You struggled to form words as he was rubbing your sensitive clit. "Y/N." He was still waiting. He wouldn't get further unless you talked.

"You-- That's all you." you finally said, throwing your head back against the wall. You tried to touch him, his arms, his chest, anything but he slapped your hands away.

"Don't make me handcuff you."

You had never been handcuff before and that idea did things to you. But maybe for another time, you weren't sure you could handle it right now. So, you inhaled intensely and kept your arms along your body.

As a reward, Gibbs entered a thick finger in your wet cunt, still rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned from the back of your throat and a smirk appeared on Gibbs's face, but you didn't see it as your eyes were closed.

You were so wet, he could easily entered another thick finger inside your core. "Fuck, Jethro--" you moaned and he took it as an invitation to go faster. "Yes! Right there, keep going!"

Gibbs fingerfucked you there in the bathroom of a bar. It didn't matter how loud you were, thanks to the music. He stared at you losing it under his touch and he loved every second of it.

You could feel an orgasm building inside your belly, you wrapped your hand against his wrist, digging your nails in his skin. When you were about to explode, Gibbs completely withdraw his hand from your panties and you let out a loud whine.

He smiled and sucked the fingers that was just inside you, tasting your essence. "I hate you." you complained. You wanted to beg him to keep going but it would be so easy.

"I told you, Y/N. This is just the beginning," he said, before closing the distance between your bodies. He kissed you intensely, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. "Until I say otherwise, you're not allow to touch yourself. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." you swallowed thickly.

"Good girl." he smirked and kissed you again, before exiting the bathroom.

You went back to the dancefloor. An orgasm denial was new to you, and you could feel how sensitive you were just by dancing. You kept looking at Gibbs from the corner of your eyes. The man was sitting with Fornell, talking but he was staring at you all along. "Man, she's not going to disappear, you can stop looking at her."

"Jealous much, Fornell?" Gibbs teased him.

"Well, I do wish I had someone to take to the bathroom. Details?"

*****

The car ride to Gibbs's place felt like an eternity. Before he drove off, he ordered you to open your jeans and touched yourself just lightly. You weren't allow to enter a finger inside your wet cunt, just rubbing your clit. But you were oversensitive already, just waiting to explode. When Gibbs sensed that you were close to cum, he grabbed your wrist - not so gently - to make you stop immediately. You whined again and he laughed.

"Poor thing." he teased.

He held your hand in his, rubbing small circles on your knuckles with his thumb. It was such a tender gesture, it made your heart melt, momentarily forgetting your orgasm denial. "I love you, Jethro." you said, not being able to stop yourself.

Since it's one long seat in his truck, he used his free arm to pull you against him. He took his eyes off the road just enough to kiss your temple. "I love you, too, Y/N." he whispered.

*****

Once inside his house, you didn't waste anytime and jumped in his arms. He chuckled, before responding to your needy kiss.

It required a lot of self control for Gibbs not to fuck you senseless right here, right now. He wanted to make you cum hard on his cock, making you losing control under him but that wasn't the plan.

Still kissing you intensely, he took you to the bedroom. He threw you on the bed nonchalantly. "Strip." he ordered you.

You stood on the bed and undressed yourself right in front of him. He looked at you like a lion looking at its prey. You could feel yourself dripping between your legs. It would only take a bit of stimulation to make you cum hard.

When you were completely naked, Gibbs grabbed your ankles and flipped you on the bed. In a second, you were laying on your back and he pushed on your knees to spread your legs. Your pussy was shiny from wetness and he licked his lips.

He dived in and gently licked your sensitive clit. You jolted immediately and Gibbs smirked. He made himself comfortable between your legs and started to eat you like a starving man. He alternately licked and sucked hard on your clit before putting his tongue inside your core. He tried to push it as far as he could, fucking you with it.

You were completely worked up. Gibbs felt you tensing pretty quickly. "Absolutely delicious." he growled. He had only pulled away for a brief second to talk but you instantly bucked your hips, looking for friction. He chuckled, and buried his tongue inside you again.

"Yes, Jethro! Please, don't stop!" you moaned, ready to cum on his face.

But he pulled away. "Damn you, Gibbs!" you cried.

"You don't deserve to the relief yet. You spent the entire day making me jealous, remember?" He moved to get on top of you and kissed you deeply.

“I’d apologize but I know about Rule 6 and— I do not regret it.”

“You just postponed your relief.” You looked at him with questioning eyes, but he just smirked again.

Laying by your side, he explained the rules for the next days. First, he repeated what he said at the bar: you were not allow to touch yourself in his back. Then, he made sure you remembered the safe word. And he let you what he had planned: he was going to edge you for days, you would be begging him like you never begged before. Meanwhile, he’d use you when he wants, how he wants. “Are you okay with it?”

“Yes. God yes. Use me.” You kissed him. “I’m all yours.” You whispered.

“That’s my good girl.” He kissed you more passionately, grabbing your hips to put you on top of him. You could feel the bulge in his pants, his cock was waiting to be freed and taken care of.

Unfortunately, you may cum uncontrollably if he fucked you. He wanted it. He wanted to bury himself deep inside you and fill you up with his cum and then fucking his load back in you again. But that was too risky for the plan. Especially since you just agreed to it.

Gibbs had never done anything like this. Not that his sex life had been simple or boring, but he always had limits. Probably because he knew his past partners were into all of this. But you were different. You were open-minded, ready to try anything at least once, and damn, you were so needy with him, always wet and ready for him, he felt like a fucking god. He never felt that before.

You loved sex. But sex with Gibbs, that was beyond loving it. You were craving for him, all day everyday. The man turns you on by just existing, it's too much sometimes.

"Ever tried anal?" He asked, as you were grinding against his rock hard cock.

"No... you?"

"Neither. My exes thought it was--" you kissed him to make him shut up.

"I don't give a shit about your exes. I wanna try it."

That thought only almost sent Gibbs over the edge. Thinking about his cock stretching your hole, feeling how tight you are around him, cuming deep inside your ass, and if he added the fact that he'd be the first, that was a lot. He grunted deeply under your touch. "You like that idea, don't you?" you teased him.

"We will go over the ground rules later, but for now, you're going to make me cum on those perfect tits."

"Yes."

"Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir." you smiled and kissed you one more time before going further down.

You took his pants off him, along with his briefs. He was painfully hard, you could see some precum coming out of the head. You licked it just lightly and he moaned. You gave him a few strokes with your hand before placing his cock between your breasts.

You pressed them around his length and started to go up and down. You could tell from the noises Gibbs was making that he wasn't far. You kept going, taking the head in your mouth a few times. "Fuck, you're perfect, sweetheart." he growled. "I'm gonna cum."

You went as fast as you could, until he tensed under you. You felt his hot load on your chest and chin, as he cried your name. You looked at him coming and it was a freaking hot sight. You've never seen him losing it like this before. He looked even more perfect than he already was.

You laid on his side as he was catching his breath. He looked at you with such loving eyes, you wanted this moment to last forever.

He cleaned his mess on your skin with his fingers and brought them to your mouth. You opened it, sticking out your tongue and sucked his fingers clean. "How are you feeling down there?" he teased you.

"Bite me. I need a fucking shower."

Gibbs followed you to the bathroom and you two showered together.

There was some very long days ahead for you.

[lostinthewiind]

Ways to Make You Talk

Reiner Braun + Porco Gilliard - Attack on Titan

Synopsis: after being found out as an enemy informant among the Marelyans, you are put through hours of interrogation to spill your secrets. You've been trained to keep your mouth shut at moments like this, but Reiner and Porco have alternate ways of making you talk

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: female reader, threesome, rough-sex, penetrative sex, female anatomy, male anatomy, unsafe sex, orgasm denial, oral sex (both male and female receiving), double penetration, degradation, praise, torture, pain, mention blood and of bodily harm, profanity

Hands tied uncomfortably behind your back and ankles tied to the wooden legs of the chair, you fought against the restraints and tensed your muscles in a fruitless attempt to escape. You had lost track of how many hours, or maybe even days, you had been trapped in the dark, dank cellar with just enough rest and water to keep you from passing out.

Passing out wasn't the thing you were most worried about, however. No, the thing constantly playing on repeat in your mind was the top-secret details about your mission that you absolutely couldn't let spill from your chapped lips, no matter how much pain or how many mind games the Marelyans inflicted on you.

Giving up information was not an option, but keeping silent was slowly getting harder and harder. However, nothing could compare to what Reiner and Porco had in store for you. They were determined to make you talk, and they had tricks up their sleeves that you couldn't have anticipated in your wildest dreams.

When the door swung open and the two men stepped inside, you straightened in your chair and held your head high, refusing to show any form of weakness in front of them. Even though you had been threatened, blackmailed, beaten, and more, you couldn't let it look like it was bothering you, not even in the slighest.

"Well, well, don't you look all high and mighty," Porco sneered, his eyes narrowing as he closed the door behind himself and Reiner, blocking the bright light from the hallway from getting in; the only source of light in the room coming from a small window in the corner and a single lantern. He then stalked over to you, leaning down so he was level with your face. "You must think you're real smart for pulling one over on us all this time. But let me tell you something, bitch, we've got you now and we're going to pry every last secret from you if it's the last thing we do."

"Over my dead body." You spat onto his face. "I'm not confessing jack shit to the likes of you."

"Over your dead body, huh?" Porco grinned wide as he wiped the saliva from his cheek. "Well, we can always arrange that if it's what you want."

With that, Porco wound up and smacked you hard across the face. Your cheek stung and you could tell it was probably bright red, but it wasn't anywhere near the worst you had endured thus far and you didn't even blink when his palm made contact with your skin.

"Pathetic." You smirked, slowly turning your head back to face him. "Some warrior you are."

Porco wound up again, but before he could smack you across the other cheek, Reiner stepped in and grabbed him by the wrist. "Easy," he warned his friend. "This wasn't the plan, remember?"

"Right." Porco shook his hand out of Reiner's grip before slowly lowering his arm.

Making his way over to the small table against the wall, where the lantern and a few supplies that had been used to torture you sat, Reiner began to unbutton his cuffs and roll his sleeves up his muscular forearms.

"Reiner Braun," you nearly sing-songed as you watched his muscles bulge underneath the skin-tight button-up he was wearing. "Always such a sweetheart. You gonna untie me and let me out of here, big boy?"

Reiner just shook his head and scoffed. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you like me." You batted your eyelashes, hoping you could use the large man's soft spot for you against him. "I promise I'll make it worth your while. I'll do whatever you want."

"Fucking slut." Porco rolled his eyes. "You really think that'll work?"

"You're just pissed because I never fucked you despite your many desperate attempts to get into my pants," you told him simply, hoping it hit him right in the fragile spot under his otherwise thick skin. "And neither did Pieck . . . and she never will."

You could almost see Porco's anger rising and could tell he was seconds away from lashing out again, which was exactly what you wanted. Reiner was too calm and calculated to try and manipulate like this, but Porco was a whole different story; if you pushed just a little harder, he was more than likely to snap and make a mistake. All you had to do then was make your move.

"Remember the plan," Reiner reminded Porco from across the room.

You snickered. "What plan? I'm curious to see what you two geniuses think will make me talk when countless hours of excruciating pain hasn't."

"We're taking a different approach this time." Porco grabbed your face hard and forced you to look up at him. "Pain obviously doesn't work on you . . ." he lifted his foot and settled it on the chair between your legs before forcing your thighs apart, ". . . but maybe pleasure will get you to loosen that pretty fucking mouth of yours. Either way, you'll be squealing real soon, bitch."

You furrowed your brows as Porco squished your cheeks together, distorting your amused smile. "Pleasure?" you questioned, skeptical. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like." Reiner was suddenly behind you, brushing your hair over your shoulder and whispering into your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "You'll be a good girl and tell us what we want to hear, won't you?"

"In your dreams, Reiner." You shook your head and pulled away from his deep voice. "Not only am I not saying a goddamn word, but I'm not going to let you two perverts have your way with me."

"That's the best part." Porco reached for the zipper of his pants and began pulling it down, the sound slow and mocking. "You don't have a choice."

Eyes wide, you struggled to find something to say in response to that. "So what, you two are just going to force yourselves on me?"

"No, of course not," Reiner assured you as he pulled up another chair behind you, sat down, and reached around your body to ghost his fingers over your lower waist and thighs. "You'll be begging us for it soon enough."

Your breathing hitched when Reiner pressed his whole hand down onto you, skipping any and all subtle touching and moving straight to palming your clothed core.

"Don't fucking touch me." You craned your neck to look back at him, but he wasn't looking at your face. Instead, he was observing the way your body naturally reacted to him, your legs spreading wider and back arching ever-so-slightly.

"I thought you would appreciate a change of pace." Reiner planted a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the crook of your neck. "All this pain . . . wouldn't you like some pleasure instead?"

Speechless, you spun your head back around, but when you did you were met with the lewd sight of Porco standing before you, cock in his hand, slowly pumping himself to a full erection.

"Jesus!" you gasped, both at the sight itself and the size of what Porco was packing. "This is sick. You're both sick!"

"But look at you. Your hips are practically chasing after Reiner's hand." Porco pointed out, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Doesn't that make you sick too?"

Dropping your head, you felt your body tense when you laid eyes on Reiner's fingers massaging you over your pants. Sure enough, without even realizing it, you had been subtly bucking your hips up to meet his gentle touch.

"Fucking hell." You threw your head back, completely baffled by the situation and how you were reacting to it. In all your training, you had never been prepared for something like this, and clearly, it was showing. Your body was betraying you every chance it could, and even worse, Reiner and Porco knew it too.

"Does that feel good, sweet girl?" Reiner's voice was in your ear again in between nibbles and soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. "Tell me what you want me to do. Where should I touch you next?"

Forcing your lips together, you shook your head, refusing to answer.

"Guess it's dealer's choice then." Reiner began to push his hand down the front of your pants while his other hand looped around from the other side and began to pinch at your nipple through your shirt. "What about this? How's this?"

Eyes locking onto Reiner's, your mouth fell open when his rough fingers found your bare clit. Before you had the chance to get a single sound out, however, your face was grabbed harshly and something thick and hard was pushed past your lips.

Letting out a muffled yelp, you stared up at Porco through your lashes in complete disbelief that he had just shoved his cock into your mouth without any warning like that. Sure, he had always been a cocky son of a bitch, but this was on a whole new level.

"Ah, ah, no teeth." Porco disobeyed you with the shake of his finger when you tried to speak. "You know how to do this, I know you do. So be a good girl and suck my cock and maybe Reiner will give you what you really want."

Jaw going slack, you closed your eyes in acceptance as Porco slowly sheathed himself all the way into your mouth, the tip of his cock poking the back of your throat when your nose pressed into his stomach.

"So fucking warm and wet, just how I always imagined," Porco hissed. "Fuck all this bullshit. How about you just spill all your secrets right now and, if you promise to be my personal little fucktoy, we can spare your life."

You furrowed your brows, facial expressions the only way you could express your distaste for that idea.

"No, don't like the sound of that?" Porco laughed as he pulled out slowly, a string of saliva connecting your tongue to the tip of his cock. "Still not giving in?"

"You can throatfuck me as hard and as long as you want," you challenged. "I'm still not telling you shit."

Porco's eyes lit up. "Don't test me, slut." With that, he forced your mouth open again with his hand before shoving his cock back down your throat, thrusting hard and fast a few times to truly test your resolve. "Still nothing?"

You shook your head.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace, because you won't be able to say much of anything when I'm done with you." He gave you a few seconds to change your mind, but he was beyond pleased when you didn't. "Too bad . . . for you."

Grabbing you by the throat, Porco squeezed as he started fucking your mouth relentlessly. Meanwhile, Reiner had been playing with your nipples and rubbing slow circles over your clit the entire time. Once Porco had fallen into a rhythmic pace, you were able to focus back on Reiner's movements and how well your body was responding to him.

"I can tell you want to be full from the other end as well." Reiner licked a stripe up your neck to the shell of your ears. "I'd ask you to beg for it, but it's rude to speak with your mouth full."

When Reiner's fingers travelled down to your entrance, you inhaled sharply, throat tightening around Porco and causing him to let out a moan of pleasure.

"Fuck, dude, whatever you did, do it again," Porco told Reiner, and the ladder quickly obliged. You inhaled sharply once more when Reiner prodded you and, yet again, Porco moaned. "That's it, bitch, just like that."

Then, in one fluid motion, Reiner inserted two of his thick, rough fingers into your pussy and you let out a muffled cry of pleasure. "You're so tight, princess," Reiner cooed, his soft and loving words a stark contrast to Porco's snarky, insulting ones. "Bet you'd feel so good around my cock. You'd like that, huh? Want me to hold you in my arms and fuck you like the good girl you are?"

All you could do was nod, but even that movement was severely limited thanks to Porco's cock in your mouth.

"Yeah?" Reiner's chuckle was low and caused you to clench around his fingers. "Shit, baby, I want nothing more than to feel your velvet walls around me. If I untie you, will you be a good girl?"

You attempted to nod again, and when you did, not a single plan of escape crossed your mind. All you wanted at that moment was the use of your limbs again so you could use them to impale yourself on Reiner and ride him with every ounce of strength you had left.

Pulling his fingers out of you, Reiner stuffed them into his mouth to suck your juices off before he shot a look to Porco, silently telling him to back away so he could untie you.

As soon as Porco slid himself out of your throat, you drew in a deep breath of air followed by a light chuckle. "This is the best form of interrogation I've ever experienced," you admitted shamelessly. "Who knew you two had it in you."

"Watch what comes out of that mouth of yours." Porco jabbed a finger in your direction, his other hand occupied with fisting himself. "Or I'll plug it up again."

Before you could shoot back a remark, Reiner was using his pocket knife to cut the rope around your wrists and ankles. As soon as your limbs were free, he was lifting you off the chair and taking it for himself.

"Strip," he ordered, eyes glued to you like a hawk.

Smirk playing at the corners of your mouth, you pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it back at Porco, not even bothering to spare him a glance over your shoulder. Then, you undid the button on your pants and slowly slid them down your legs, putting on a little show for Reiner as a thank you for him treating you so nicely thus far.

Once you were in nothing but your underwear, you straightened up again, waiting for his next command.

"Off." He eyed your underwear. "Take it all off."

Giving a slight nod, you looped your fingers under the band of your underwear and slowly stepped out of them, leaving yourself fully nude.

Turning around, you forced a sweet smile as you approached Porco. When you got to him, you balled up your panties and shoved them in his mouth. "It's your turn to taste me." You gave him a gentle pat on the puffed-out cheek before turning your attention back to Reiner, who was patiently waiting for you.

As you padded barefoot back in his direction, Reiner patted his clothed lap and you instantly obeyed. Straddling his muscular thighs, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your bare pussy down onto the bulge in his pants. You both let out a breathy moan.

"How come we never did this sooner?" You continued to grind on him, the pleasure starting to build with the faintest touch.

"You were too busy being a dirty little traitor," he reminded you calmly. "But better late than never, right?"

"Mmm," you agreed wordlessly seconds before Reiner grabbed the back of your head and shoved his tongue into your mouth in the most heated and passionate kiss you had ever experienced.

Lips colliding over and over again, fueled by pure lust, you reached down between your bodies and, after a little bit of fumbling, managed to pull Reiner's cock out of his pants. He was already rock hard and, evidenced by the slick mess you had left on his pants, you were more than ready to take him.

"Fuck me," you pleaded into his mouth.

"Gladly." He sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to draw blood as he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed into your waiting pussy.

In unison, you gasped into each other's mouths. Neither of you was able to form a single coherent thought, the only thing going through your minds being the feeling of the other person.

Your hands roaming Reiner's body, fingers brushing over his toned muscles, you eventually needed more and ripped his shirt open so you could feel his skin pressed against yours. While your hands explored every inch of his body, his hands were gripping your hips so hard his fingers were probably digging bruises into the supple flesh there. With his hold on you strong, he was able to move you up and down on his cock, maneuvering your body in whatever way felt best for him.

Then, all of a sudden, you began to feel another pair of hands grabbing at and smacking your asscheeks. "I'm getting so lonely," Porco said as he knelt behind you. "Think you've got room for one more?"

Mind too foggy with pleasure to even begin processing what that could possibly mean, you let out a gasp when you felt something warm and wet circling your asshole.

"Hey, eyes on me." Reiner forced you to look at him when you tried to glance back at what Porco was doing. "I'm the one fucking you, right? Not him. He could never fuck you this well."

You had expected Porco to pipe up when he heard that, but when he didn't, you remembered that it was probably a part of the plan from the beginning. That, and his mouth was too busy sucking and licking at your asshole. Despite that, you had to keep in mind that none of this was real—it was all a ploy to get you to start talking.

However, just as soon as you had remembered, you forgot all over again when Porco pushed a single finger into your ass and you clenched around his digit and Reiner's cock.

"Fuck!" you cried out, feeling fuller than ever and completely unable to comprehend taking both of their cocks at once.

"That's it!" Porco exclaimed. "You're probably fucking thrilled to be used by both of us at once. Is this what you fantasize about in that filthy mind of yours?"

You were unable to answer because, before you knew it, Reiner's mouth was on yours again and, after wrapping his arms around you, he stood up and brought you with him, cock still buried deep inside of you.

As you wrapped your legs around Reiner's waist, Porco came up behind you, finger slipping out of your ass and replacing the sensation with his cockhead poking at your backside. "Ready?" He breathed in your ear before beginning to push himself inside of you, your ass barely loosened up enough beforehand for the experience to be anywhere near enjoyable. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter." He laughed. "You didn't think it would all be pleasure, did you? Come on. What's pleasure without a little bit of pain, huh?"

Tears welling in your eyes, your jaw clenched as you tried to focus on the feeling of Reiner kissing down your neck instead of the feeling of Porco fucking you from behind.

"It hurts!" you complained, fingernails digging into Reiner's back.

"You can take it, I know you can." Reiner stepped forward, squishing you tighter between him and Porco "Be a good girl and take Porco's cock for me and I'll rub your clit just the way you like, okay?"

As tears started to spill from your eyes and drip down your cheeks, you swallowed your wails and pushed through the discomfort and pain, just like you had a hundred times before this interrogation method. After all, if you really thought about it, this was nowhere near as bad as being beaten within an inch of your life; the only reason it seemed so bad was because you had been spoiled with nothing but euphoria lately.

Drawing in a deep breath, you forced yourself to relax. "Good girl," Reiner praised as he shifted some of your weight into Porco's arms and used his free hand to rub small, quick circles into your clit just as he had said he would.

"Shit!" Porco growled as he bottomed out and buried his face into the crook of your neck and pressed his chest flush against your back. "Even better than her fucking mouth, if you can believe it. I'm not gonna last long like this."

"Yeah," Reiner grunted out. "This pussy is to die for. I'm close too."

Sandwiched between the two men, you barely paid attention to what they were saying until they were addressing you specifically.

"If you cum before us, I'm gonna rip your fingernails out one by one." Porco threatened and the idea of a true torture method after everything sent a chill down your spine.

"You can hold out, can't you?" Reiner's approach was much kinder, and before you knew what you were doing, you were happily agreeing with a nod. "I knew you would say yes. My perfect little fucking girl. Such a good girl for me."

You swore you could cum right then and there just from Reiner calling you his 'good girl', but you also fully believed Porco's threat, so you tried to think about something else while both men rutted into you over and over again, harsh puffs of air escaping their mouths as they neared their climaxes.

"Gonna cum so far inside you, you'll be leaking for days." Porco tightened his grip on you and you whined in response to his dirty words. "Not so snarky now, are you? Pretty quiet after you've been fucked stupid, huh?"

Not a minute later, both Reiner and Porco had picked up their paces, and after a few final thrusts, buried themselves as deep inside of you as they could and came together, chests heaving.

You had managed to hold out, but just barely. You could feel yourself getting closer as they twitched inside of you, the coil of tension in your stomach ready to release at any moment.

"Fuck, that was incredible." Porco loosened his grip on you, and as he pulled himself out of your abused hole, Reiner did the same.

"Been too long," Reiner agreed.

"Wait," you whimpered when your feet touched the ground and both men walked away from you, completely ignoring you and beginning to collect the clothes they had discarded. "What about me?"

Porco scoffed. "What about you?"

"I . . . I . . ." You pressed your thighs together, desperate for any little bit of friction you could get. Knees weak, you slowly dropped down, exhaustion and frustration taking over. "I was a good girl." You peered up at Reiner like a stray puppy. "I was a good girl for you, just like you asked. Don't I get to cum now?"

"Well, of course, you do." Reiner tucked his cocked back into pants before kneeling down before you and hooking his fingers under your chin. "You've just got to do one more thing for me, okay? Then I'll let you cum."

Brain completely drunk on the thought of getting the release you craved, you nodded enthusiastically. "Anything!"

Reiner grinned. "Just tell me everything you know."

[tetsurousharlot]

Day 8: Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader x Matsukawa Issei, 2,140 words, thank you @nocturnalazura​ for beta reading! It's @anxiousbabybirdb's fault for Issei calling reader pretty girl /nm

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), two cocks, one hole, belly bulge, gendered nicknames and female reader, porn with plot, cream pie, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, light degrading praise, slight time skip spoilers but only for occupations, Kuroo calls reader a cock slut. I WILL BLOCK MINORS 17 AND UNDER AND AGELESS BLOGS IF YOU LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG, AND/OR FOLLOW. I don’t own the characters.

You rush through the front doors of the stadium, running to meet your friend for the Sendai Frogs game, until you collide with a hard chest. “Shit, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

A deep chuckle reaches your ears at the same time as a “Don’t worry about it, kitten,” vibrates against your chest and you look up to see a tall man with spikey black hair, partly covering one hazel eye, before your eyes shift to the other’s brown, curly hair and brown eyes covered by thick eyebrows.

Your eyes scan their features and your brain must have malfunction because you blurt out “Damn, you’re both really hot.”

They both let out a chuckle at that and you feel your face grow hot. “Uh, sorry, a little smooth brain today. . . as a treat. Um, what I meant was you’re here for the game?”

The curly haired one speaks, “Yeah, I have an underclassman and he has a protégé from high school on the team.”

You lick your lips, “Oh, so you’re both volleyball players?”

“Formerly, but yes. I’m a sports promoter for the Japan Volleyball Association,” the rooster haired one speaks, handing you his business card. You take it fingers running over the embossed name, Kuroo Tetsurou.

You turn to the other one, gripping his upper arm, “So I’ve got his name and career. What about you?”

A smirk crosses his face, “Matsukawa Issei, Funeral Home Director, but friends call me Mattsun,” he says with a wink. “Gonna share your name, pretty girl?”

Big smile on your face, you tell them your name and job title right as your text message ringtone goes off and you check it, “Shoot! I gotta go! I’m late meeting my friend! But maybe I’ll see you guys at more games.” You give a wave as you depart with your back towards them, missing the shared look and glint in their eyes.

Inside the stadium, you wave to your friend, apologizing to her and she waves it off, handing you your ticket. Once in your seats, you talk about anything and everything as people trickle in. The game starts and you watch as both teams score points but the Sendai Frogs take the lead and the other team calls a timeout. F/n’s takes this opportunity to turn to you.

“So what made you even more delayed?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You texted me that you were walking into the stadium and, then, it’s, like, ten minutes later and you’re nowhere in sight. Something must have happened.”

Your face heats up again as you think of Mattsun and Kuroo, “I ran into two really hot guys. One of them quite literally.”

She squeals and grips your arm, demanding details, unaware of the two sets of eyes on you both. You roll your eyes but give her the deets she requires from their hair to their eyes to their jawlines and more.

“Oh, I wish you could have seen them because I swear I malfunctioned! That’s how hot they were. Like I would not mind being sandwiched between them all night. I want to be their double stuffed oreo. I just know they have big dicks – the energy they give off confirms it – and it would probably destroy me but I would take both of them in my pussy if I were given the option. I would give them the gawk gawk 9000 and suck on their ba – “

A familiar chuckle, almost covered by a hyena laugh, reaches your ears and you freeze in place before slowing turning your head, y/e/c meeting hazel and brown. Your friend notices your reaction and whips her head, jaw dropping open as she smacks your arm. Now facing you, you see her mouth ‘is this them?!’ out of the corner of your eyes and you didn’t think your face could heat up any more than it was right now.

“Um, hi, Mattsun, Kuroo. Di-didn’t think you’d be sitting right behind me.”

Mattsun’s drawl reaches your ears, “We were going to sit someplace else but the view was better here.”

“If you want to find out if you can take both of us at the same time, you should stick around after the game,” Kuroo’s lips graze your ear and you feel your face heat up even more, using the sound of the whistle to bring your attention back to the game and fan yourself in an effort to calm down.

And that’s how you ended up looking for Kuroo and Mattsun after the game, leading to you sprawled out on the bed in Kuroo’s penthouse hotel room. Kuroo is nestled between your legs, lips sucking on your clit and four fingers moving fast inside you, your hands gripping his hair as your – fourth? fifth? – orgasm rips through you. Issei swallows your moans as his hands alternate between rolling your nipples between his fingers and kneading your breasts.

Kuroo lifts his face up, your juices glistening on his face, and you whimper into Issei’s mouth as Kuroo pull his fingers from you, “I think she’s ready. Got the lube?”

Issei nods his head and pulls his mouth from yours so he can grab the lube and tosses it to Kuroo. Kuroo squeezes a glob out and coats his cock with it, tossing it back to Issei so he can do the same.

“Alright, kitten, which one of us do you want to enter you first?”

You look at their cocks and gulp before licking your lips again. You were right; they do have big dicks but Mattsun’s is something else so you nod to Kuroo.

“Need you to use your words, pretty girl,” Issei whispers in your ear, kneading your breasts again, making you gasp. You stutter out a “K-kuroo’s. I want Kuroo’s first.”

“Good girl,” Issei kisses your lips, maneuvering you both so you’re resting on him, heavy cock resting between your thighs as Kuroo moves in front of you, sitting between them to line his cock up with your cunt. He runs his cock along your folds first, smirking when he sees them flutter around nothing. He slowly pushes into you and you gasp into Issei’s mouth, sensitive from the previous orgasms. Kuroo’s hips meet yours as he fills you to the hilt and stays still to let you adjust.

“You doing okay, kitten?” Kuroo levels his face in front of yours, watching your eyes as you nod.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just need a moment.” You answer, trying not to wriggle your hips.

Kuroo kisses along your jaw before turning to face Issei and, bringing a hand to Issei’s neck and moves him closer so their lips meet and Kuroo slides his tongue into Issei’s mouth. You watch, transfixed, as Kuroo pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting them.

“Issei, I’m ready. Just. . . go slow?”

They turn to you and Kuroo leans back some to grab Issei’s cock and help line it up with the right hole. Issei slowly pushes in, giving you time to adjust and your legs tighten, locking in place. Issei brings a hand to one, massaging gently, “Relax, pretty girl. It’s okay. Daddy’ll go slow. We’ll take care of you.”

Kuroo brings his lips to yours, in hopes to distract you, sliding his tongue in and the faint, lingering taste of mint from Issei hits your taste buds. Your hand grips Issei’s hair and Kuroo’s mouth swallows your moans when Issei pushes in a little more. Issei’s groan sounds in your mouth as your pussy clenches tighter and tighter until you cum around their cocks. The extra lubrication allows Issei to bottom out inside you and you gasp out, head lolling back onto Issei’s shoulder.

Your hand lets go of his hair, falling down limply and Issei moves it to rest on your stomach. There’s a distension under your skin and you run your fingers over it as your eyes widen in realization.

“Can you feel how deep we are in you, kitten?” Kuroo smirks as you run your fingers along the bulges of their dicks through your stomach.

“Oh, fuck, you’re both so deep,” you press lightly on your stomach and, then, scratch the bulges, feeling them jump inside you. “I’m ready. You can. . . I need you both to move.”

Issei and Kuroo pull their hips back out and your mouth drops in a silent scream, hands fisting the sheets at the motion of their cocks rubbing against each other inside your tight walls, releasing a whine as you feel their warm cum fill you up.

You whine again and Kuroo chuckles, “Don’t worry, kitten.”

Issei smirks, “We’re not done yet. We’ll fuck our cum back into you, pretty girl.”

Your pussy flutters around them at that and Kuroo pulls back and thrust back in slowly, dragging his dick along Issei’s. “Issei, look at how desperate she is. What a good, little cock slut she is, sucking us in so tightly,” Kuroo teases.

Issei pulls his hips back, leaving when Kuroo enters, and you claw the sheets as Issei’s drawl is right in your ear, “You’re taking us so nicely, pretty girl. Good girls get rewards. Want us to fill up this tight cunt, stuff you nice and full, breed you over and over again?”

You gasp and thrust down to meet their hips, the sound of smacking skin filling the room as Kuroo and Issei pull out and ram back in, both sets of balls slapping your ass, as you gush around them. They move in sync, picking up their thrusts as you clench and unclench around them until your juices coat your stomach and both their cocks, your body going limp with your orgasm. All you can do as your legs shake, pussy clenching weakly, as they both reel their hips back and forth. Using you as their rag doll, Kuroo sucks a nipple into his mouth and Issei attaches his lips to your neck. Issei moves a hand to draw lazy circles against your clit and Kuroo hooks a leg around his shoulder.

“Come on, pretty girl. You’ve got one more for us, right?”

You shake your head weakly but they thrust harder, doubling their efforts and Issei’s circles become harsher and your cunt spasms, coating them in your juice once more as they fill you up, each cumming with a groan. Kuroo pulls out first and you whine at the loss of his cock.

“I’ll go draw a bath. Take care of our good girl until then, Issei?”

Issei nods and Kuroo walks out of the room, the sound of running water lightly filling the room. Issei pulls himself from you and watches as their mixed cum dribbles out of you, running a finger along your lips, pushing it back in.

“Don’t waste a drop, pretty girl, or we won’t be as gentle next time.” Issei smirks as he sees your pussy clench weakly around nothing. Kuroo comes back into the room and picks you up, carrying you bridal style in his arms before placing you in the bath, sinking in behind you. Issei walks in the room shortly after and joins you both in the bath. Kuroo washes your hair as Issei cleans your body for you. Issei gets out of the tub, wrapping a towel to hang lowly on his hips as he brings one over for you.

Kuroo helps you stand as Issei wraps the towel around you, throwing one to Kuroo as Issei picks you up and sets you on the bed. He dries you off and covers you with an old Seijoh VBC t-shirt, Matsukawa printed large on the back.

Kuroo comes out of the bathroom in low hanging black sweats and comes over to cup your cheeks and give you a kiss but stops and does a double take at the name and shirt.

“Matsukawa, what is this?”

“A shirt, rooster-head. What’s it look like?”

A frown forms on Kuroo’s face and he mumbles, “Would look better if it was my old Nekoma shirt.”

Issei rolls his eyes and walks over to Kuroo, “Deal with it, Rooster-head. You can be the little spoon, okay?”

Kuroo agrees and presses his lips to yours and climbs into bed as Issei places you behind Kuroo, who grabs your arm to rest it around his waist. Issei switches his towel for his own sweatpants but in grey and also hanging low. He climbs into bed behind you and, pressing a kiss to the crown of your forehead, presses his warm chest against your back – a contrast to Kuroo’s slightly less warm temperature – effectively sandwiching you between the two. Exhausted and beyond satisfied, your eyes close, wrapped up protectively in between Kuroo and Issei, hopeful for a repeat in the morning and many more times in the future.

reblogs appreciated, especially with comments! 💕

© 2021 to tetsurousharlot. Do not re-upload to wattpad, ao3, or tiktok. Do not recommend on tiktok.

[waithyuck]

PUPPY

pairing: werewolf!lee jeno x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4k

warnings: mature content, excessive explicit language, sexy times (meaning sexual content), I used the word ‘penis’ ONCE and only ONCE, mentions of a knot, knotting (I’m sorry), slight impreg kink, cumming inside, unprotected sex, blood, aggressive behavior, other stupid cliche werewolf things that are most definitely prob in hundreds of fics, jeno does NOT like being called a puppy even tho he’s called it oNCe

a/n: the first release of the dreamie halloweenie series! I hope this one sets the tone for what’s to come 👀 sorry to anyone who hates werewolf cliches and for the extreme lack of any substance or plot lmaoooo anyway I hope y’all enjoy reading

| next >

~10/10/2020~

~~~~

“are you cool with jeno staying the night?” your brother shot out, startling you as he spoke, not even looking at you as he spread too much peanut butter on a slice of bread nestled in his hand.

you looked up from where you were sitting at the kitchen table to face your brother, not saying anything in reply as you got lost in your thoughts.

jeno was an oddball. he was nice and he wasn’t creepy or even that weird, he just had his moments that were just well, odd. he was your brother’s friend of about six years; they met in their second year of high school and have been inseparable ever since. because of that, you have also been surrounded by jeno in all that time as well.

in the first couple years, you didn’t notice anything strange about him. he seemed like a normal and healthy young teenage boy. he was incredibly handsome, so of course your poor soul developed a small crush on him that only grew as the years progressed.

since you paid such close attention to him, you could pick out the oddities in his behavior occasionally pretty well. just from that, you’ve deducted that his sense of smell was almost god-like, like he could smell things that a normal person couldn’t.

now, you supposed that it wasn’t that weird that he had a good sniffer; there were probably tons of other people in the world with the same ability...but it wasn't just his sense of smell that had you curious.

sometimes he would act strangely at night; not often, but enough to have you questioning it. he would either disappear completely without a word or come up with a half-assed excuse to leave and then run away like a frightened animal.

it was just plain odd...and you couldn't get over it, no matter how much you tried to will yourself not to think about it.

snapping out of your stupor, you felt your heart jump at the thought of jeno coming over, even though he’s been here countless times, but you didn’t let it show and you shrugged your shoulders.

“it’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” you stated truthfully, looking down to pick at your nails. “you would have just said he was coming over anyway if I said no.”

your brother smiled at you, beaming as he placed the bread down and patted your head.

“you know me so well, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes, shoving him away. “yeah,” you retorted, slightly annoyed. “It’s not like you’re my brother, or anything.”

he didn't say anything further and you left him alone with his sandwich, getting up and making your way to your room where you could successfully hide for the rest of the night. before your cold make it far, you heard your brother yell something about jeno coming around 8, but you didn't say anything back and just minded your own business all the way upstairs to your room.

you pathetically holed yourself up in your dark room for about four hours, only coming out to quietly sneak to the bathroom and then you would go back into hiding once again.

even when you got word that there was pizza downstairs, you ignored it and continued to watch horror story narrations on youtube.

you just couldn't deal with being in the presence of your long time crush today. it took everything in your power to stop yourself from going downstairs and being potentially spotted, but you managed to pull through successfully and be a pathetic hermit in your room.

it was around 3 a.m. when you were finally finished with watching youtube videos, and you felt gross. you supposed that the two boys would be sound asleep by now, considering your brother never ever sacrificed his beauty sleep for anyone. you grabbed some clean clothes and gathered them in your arms before trudging tiredly to the bathroom, swinging open the door without a second thought, not realizing that the light was already on when you got there.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest as your eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“holy fuck!” you screeched as you took in the sight of jeno, in the middle of the bathroom completely naked, stroking his painfully hard cock right before your eyes. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the show and you accidentally discovered that there was something not right about the way it looked...

your mouth fell agape and you barely heard him gasp loudly before trying to cover himself with the closest towel.

“jesus christ, y/n!” he yelled back, both of you not even considering your sleeping brother that was just three rooms over.

your eyes stayed glued to where he was covering himself with the towel, still thinking about the oddity of his dick. it seemed to be swelling at the base, which was definitely not normal for a human penis to do.

“what the fuck is wrong with your dick?” you blurted out unapologetically, causing a blush to cover his entire face and neck. you tore your eyes from his covered crotch to look at his eyes, which were now a shocking shade of bright yellow. you jumped back, dropping your clothes on the floor as you watched him breath heavily, most likely trying to calm himself down the same as you.

“oh my god, what the actual fuck is happening?” you murmured out loud, your eyes wide and never leaving his own as he stood silently in front of you. “am i dreaming? am i fucking high?” you tried to reason out as to why you were seeing what you're seeing, but jeno didn't give you much time to think before he spoke.

“you’re not dreaming,” his voice came out low, almost like a growl, and you felt your heart freeze up. “I dunno if you’re high...but what you're seeing is as real as it gets.”

your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping out of water, trying to formulate the words to say next. your brain literally couldn't think of anything except his abnormally large and weird dick.

“okay…” you trailed off, your hands coming up to rest over your racing heart. “so then I’ll ask again: what the fuck is up with your dick??” and then you quickly added, “and your eyes??? I'm so confused right now, jeno.”

he sighed heavily and turned around, giving you a full view of his ass before he gathered his clothes to get dressed and cover himself. you really should have looked away, but your eyes wouldn’t listen to your internal screaming no matter how hard you physically tried to stop staring.

when he pulled his shorts on he finally turned to face you once more, forgoing a shirt much to your dismay (but really, you were dying on the inside at the sight of his abs). he stared at you for a second, his eyes back to their natural deep brown color.

“...there's a lot we need to talk about.” was all he said before grabbing your wrist in his scorchingly warm hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and down to your room. you didn’t protest and you let him practically drag you all the way there, closing the door behind him and guiding you to plop down on your bed. jeno walked to the opposite side of the room, distancing himself from you as much as possible.

“um..so,” he started hesitantly, trying to form his words correctly. “I’m uh, I'm a werewolf.”

your eyes bulged out of your head in disbelief, but you didn't say anything in reply. you both stared at each other across the space of your bedroom, not uttering a single word.

at first you were ready to call him crazy; there was absolutely no way that it was true. but then you thought about his eyes, his sense of smell...and then thought about his cock...holy shit wait, was that a fucking knot??

“um, yeah, it was…” you heard him say suddenly. you jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to reply. did you say that out loud by accident?

“you did.”

okay fuck, you needed to stop thinking and pull yourself together. what were you supposed to say to that? ‘oh cool, your cock has a knot and you’re a fucking werewolf, that’s super, jeno!’

jeno went on to explain the ins and outs of being a werewolf to you over the next twenty minutes, the small pink blush on his cheeks never truly leaving as he went into detail about everything. he even corrected certain cliches that were not true, a scowl making its way to his features with each inaccuracy you brought up.

“so...my brother doesn’t know?” you questioned quietly, looking down at your lap.

“no one knows besides you and my family.” he confirmed, and you looked up again to see him lean against the wall behind his back, eyes gazing sharply at you.

you panicked slightly, thinking that holy crap, now that you know, he's gonna have to kill you so the secret doesn't get out.

“oh my god,” you whimpered out, “are you going to kill me now?”

you watched his eyes widen before he choked, coughing violently before composing himself. he straightened his posture, but still didn't make any move toward you, still keeping his distance.

“what?!” he practically shouted, startling you. “of course not! why would I do that??”

you felt your face grow hot and you looked away once again, wringing your hands together on your lap. you shrugged, murmuring quietly, “i dunno...I thought you'd kill me to keep the secret, well, you know, a secret…”

you heard him sigh exasperatedly before hearing his soft voice grace your ears from across the room.

“I don't kill people, y/n.” he sounded slightly sad, and you then felt bad about assuming something so terrible of him. “the only time I kill is when my instincts become too much to control, and I snap.” his head hung low, but he quickly added. “but I’ve never actually killed a person, even if my instincts were screaming at me to.”

you tried to wrap your mind around what his wolf instincts were like; he only briefly touched on that topic earlier, seeming like he didn't want to talk about it too much. you being yourself, of course you had to pry.

“so like, what you’re saying is,” you started, your hand cupping your chin in thought as you pondered over your thoughts. “that if you were to like, hypothetically, snap right now and go all feral, you would want to kill me?” the question came out inflected as a statement, but you nonetheless awaited his answer patiently as you took in the sight of his face going through about five different emotions in the short span of a couple seconds.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor while clenching his fists. “I don’t think killing you would be my first instinct,” he looked up at you, his eyes blazing a slight yellow again as he seemingly stared into your soul. “...if you catch my drift.”

at first you were completely confused, not sure what other instincts he could express while being feral, but then it all clicked and it had your body heating up at the thought.

“oh.” you simply retorted, your eyes glazing over at the implication of him pinning you down and taking you as he pleased. “oh, fuck. you’re fuckin’ serious?”

his eyes were dark as he drank you in, his nostrils flaring slightly as he subtly sniffed the air between the both of you. dear god, you hoped that he couldn’t smell the sudden arousal that consumed you. you watched his eyes glow into a bright yellow and you felt your instincts screaming at you to run, but you held his gaze as he let a low growl escape his mouth.

“y/n,” he said, low and strained as he tried to fight his animal instincts. “you need to leave if you don’t want this, right now.” his words were final, no room for questioning.

you briefly tried to think it over; what would actually happen if you stayed and let him have you? you could probably die, first and foremost, but you shook that thought away even though it was a very real and serious possibility. you couldn’t deny your arousal at the whole thing, being taken like a bitch in heat by a guy you’ve been thirsting over for a while now. you may not get the chance to fuck a werewolf again, so you quickly made your decision.

“I’m…” you trailed off, dragging your gaze down to his neck and collarbones where you could make out the sweat forming on his perfect skin. “I’m staying, jeno.” you spoke softly to him, watching his brow furrow in confusion before smoothing out again.

you made your way to him and he stiffened up, watching your every move like a predator as you tentatively stopped in front of his panting form. reaching a hand up, you caressed his face, your breathing shaky as you leaned in closer.

“you can have me, puppy.” you threw in the last little jab with that sudden nickname just for fun, your heart soaring at the sound of the deep growl he let out upon hearing it. you fought the smile off your face as he practically pounced on you, pushing you over to the bed and pinning your body underneath his in one swift movement.

“I’m a puppy, huh?” he questioned darkly, his glowing eyes roaming over your face before his head dipped down to nose at your throat. you whimpered softly as his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin, earning a satisfied growl from him.

you felt your shorts stick to your core from how insanely soaked you had become, and you grew hot at the idea of him pulling them down to find that you were, in fact, pantieless. he had your wrists pinned down against the mattress, not allowing you to touch him much to your annoyance. you tried to struggle against his supernaturally strong hold, but was met with a deep snarl in response. you immediately grew pliant underneath him out of pure instinct.

he pulled back, sharp canines prominent in his mouth as he fixed you with his glowing stare, red swirling with yellow in his bright irises.

“don’t fucking move,” he spat, his voice coming out low and gutteral, causing a flood of your own arousal to escape you down below. his nostrils flared for the second time that night, and he breathed in deeply at the scent of your wet and begging cunt. “be a good girl and take what I give you.”

the statement was final, and you barely had time to nod before he was tearing your t-shirt in two, biting the skin of your shoulder. his sharper teeth did not sink deep into your flesh, but when he drug the canines across your skin, you felt them rip you open. you let out what could be considered a poorly concealed scream, but it came forth as more of a moan as you felt hot blood trickle down your arm.

your shirt was in ribbons, and he looked extremely pleased as he took in the beautiful sight of your naked breasts, no bra in his way. he watched as your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, and he released your wrist to gently trail both of his hand over your body.

“your tits are so pretty,” he murmured, diving down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. he worked your other boob with one of his hands, kneading it and flicking your sensitive nipple.

your back arched into his touch, and you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible in fear of your brother hearing you.

he suckled hard; nibbling your nipple and dragging his teeth along it, causing shivers to run up your spine and your core to clench around nothing. your shorts were without a doubt ruined at this point.

your nails scratched down his back and he continued to ravage your chest, alternating between both of your breasts and teasing your sensitive buds with no remorse. it felt like hours of play, but eventually he pulled back to roughly grip the fabric of your shorts and tear them down your legs, exposing your dripping core to his hungry eyes.

you whined as he stared at you, reaching your arms out towards his own pants, wanting to see his cock again now that you were laying there, desperate and pouting for it.

his eyes shot to your face, smirking as he watched your brow furrow and your lips purse, your hands trying to grab at him from your place on the bed.

he didn’t allow you to pull his shorts down for him; instead he hooked his own thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down slowly, exposing his cock inch by inch before it finally sprung out, slapping against his stomach proudly.

your mouth watered at the sight of him once again and you moved to try to sit up, but didn’t get very far. he grasped your non-bleeding shoulder and roughly shoved you against the mattress once again, not saying anything. the stare he gave you oozed enough dominance for you to clearly get the message that he was trying to send.

jeno didn’t waste any time spreading your thighs open, two of his fingers immediately swiping through your embarrassingly wet slit before easing inside your tight hole. the stretch burned at first, considering he was starting you off with two fingers instead of one, but you welcomed the slight pain that mixed with the pleasure of him reaching up with his thumb to graze over your throbbing clit.

jeno thrusted his fingers into you gently at first, gradually picking up the pace as he went along. before you knew it he was adding a third finger, stretching your more than you’ve been stretched before.

you gasped at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as you cried out while he started finger fucking you with earnest.

“shhh, baby,” he said quietly, his movements never ceasing. “just gotta open you up for me, make sure you can take my knot.”

you held back another moan at that, thinking of how his cock would stretch you open, and how full you would feel with his knot nestled inside you.

he abruptly pulled his fingers from you, causing your back to arch again as you protested the loss of stimulation. his strength amazed you, and with one hand on your belly he pinned you down completely, sucking on the fingers of his other lewdly while stating you in the eyes.

after licking his fingers clean, (which caused heat to crawl it’s way down your belly), he kissed you sloppily on the mouth once again before gripping your waist and roughly flipping you over onto your knees.

your chest was flush against the mattress as well as your face, and your hips were lifted high in the air and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he positioned himself behind you.

his nails drug down your sides and he gripped one of your hips with his hand, using his other to position himself at your leaking entrance. you wiggled your hips in anticipation, whining as he drug the head through your folds before slowly sinking inside you.

your fingers gripped the pillows as he bottomed out, his knot already slowly forming at the base of his shaft. it stretched you ever so slightly at the entrance of your core, and you whimpered out in pleasure as he started thrusting in and out.

the small form of his knot caught on your entrance with each precise thrust, and you were finding it very difficult to stay quiet. jeno’s breaths were heavy and every so often he would let out a soft growl as he felt his tip pound gently into your cervix.

your small whimpers were short and staggered, escaping your mouth with each thrust, which spurred him on to create a faster and harsher pace. he leaned over your back and didn’t relent as his cock punished you pussy, and when you let out a cry that was just a little bit too loud, he shoved your face right into your pillow to silence you.

“shut up,” he panted, a rumble low in his chest following his words. “just fucking take it.”

you nodded your head in response to the best of your ability, biting your lip to keep quiet as the presence of his hand left the back of your head.

he seemed to be getting close now, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge as well. it was uncommon for you to cum without any clitoral stimulation, and you were amazed at his ability to reach all of the most pleasurable spots inside you.

you felt your stomach tightening up and you gasped sharply when you felt his cock press right against your sweet spot, making you reach your high almost instantly.

you clamped around him, barely registering that he buried himself completely inside you and was now stretching you to the max with his fully developed knot. the pain of the stretch only intensified your orgasm, which had you screaming into your pillow to muffle your cries of ecstasy.

jeno growled loudly as he came shortly after, biting the back of your neck aggressively and painting your walls with his cum, emptying completely inside of you while his knot kept a single drop from escaping.

he withdrew his teeth from you, surprised that it didn’t break your skin, and gently moved the two of you to lay on your sides as you basked in the afterglow of what just occurred.

your chest heaved as you fought to catch you breath, you pussy still stretched to its limit as you laid with him. you reached an arm around to caress his face, a small show of affection as you smiled in bliss.

after catching your breath, you sat in silence for a bit, just bathing in each other’s warmth, before you had to go and open your big mouth again.

“so your knot is supposed to like, plug me up?” you questioned, your voice still sounding slightly out of breath as you panted. “to make sure I get like, hypothetically, pregnant or whatever?”

he groaned in response and gripped your hips tightly, his hips bucking and causing his still painfully hard cock to sharply jab against your sensitive insides, making you yelp.

“dear god, y/n,” he whined, his nails digging into your skin. “don’t say things like that, fuck.”

“oh, so you like that idea?” you teased, turning your head to try to look at him to the best of your ability considering your current position. “fucking me full of babies?”

his eyes stared down at you intensely, the color of his irises brightening up as he growled lowly at you. he suddenly gripped your hips and turned you both over, his body completely laying on your own as you were pressed against the mattress on your stomach.

“keep talking, y/n,” he growled out lowly, his hips pressing tightly against your ass, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. “I’ll fuck you again right now, and give you my fucking babies.”

he couldn’t see you, but you smiled contently, preparing yourself for another intense round with this beast of a man. there was a small chance that you would actually get pregnant, considering the IUD you had…but the thought of it had you ready to go at it again.

in some fucked up way, you were content with this, and you threw your hips up to grind back against him, grinning even wider as he pinned your body down even harder.

jeno fucked you like an animal until the sun came up, and your brother was none the wiser.

[y0itsbri]

Falling for You

ballet au one-shot for @gallavichthings 's a.u.gust

summary: dance instructor mickey! ian keeps messing up the lifts with the dancers, and mickey cannot have his girls injured because of this himbo, even if he is hot. he makes ian stay after class to practice on him -- and he swears there's no ulterior motives. but they're so close and his hands are all over him and he can feel his breath and it is so unprofessional but fuck it.

words: 2k

Mickey had a new guy in his class that wasn't doing... well... by any standards. Alright, the dude sucked. Mickey had been a ballet instructor for several years and not once has he met a dancer as uncoordinated and unbalanced as Ian fucking Gallagher.

Somehow, Ian had managed to not only rip the ballet barre off of the goddamn wall in his attempt at a grand plie, fallen flat on his face after pas de chat gone wrong, but he also managed to launch his fellow ballerinas onto the floor instead of the air.

He was a disaster.

Mickey had better shit to do with his time at the studio than patch up his dancers, and studio, after Gallagher's classes. Svetlana's father would have his ass if she got injured on his watch. And Ian being the only guy in their class, there was no way for him not to share the front-and-center spotlight with Svetlana.

Yeah, Mickey wasn't letting Ian any-fucking-where near Svet if he could help it. At least in his current state. Dude was a piece of work.

Mickey figured he would be a lot more upset about all this if Ian's apologetic puppy dog eyes weren't so goddamn convincing.

Fucking Gallagher.

--

"Ayo, Mands! Come help me with this!" Mickey called, echoing in the studio, now nearly empty besides the Milkovich siblings and a six-foot-tall ginger man looking both utterly clueless and utterly terrified. Mickey was utterly hopeless.

Mandy popped in the doorframe, sliding her shoes on but leaving them untied.

"Can't! I got actual shit to do! I don't live and breathe the studio like your sorry ass. No offense, Ian, my brother is great, please stay. Full offense, Mickey, get a fucking life!"

Mickey was left speechless and slightly embarrassed by Mandy's outburst and only managed to flip her off before she was out the door.

"Charming sister you got there," Ian let a quiet laugh slip before schooling his expression at Mickey's lack of amusement.

Mickey sighed and rubbed his hands down the length of his face for a moment. Ian and Mickey held eye contact a bit longer before Mickey abruptly straightened up and clapped his hands together. The noise startled Ian from his own amused trance.

"Alright, Clifford, how do you feel about private lessons for a little bit until you're not tripping over your own feet?"

Ian stepped forward to argue, but, proving Mickey's point, stumbled over the shoes on the floor in front of him. He didn't miss the way that Mickey's mouth quirked up on the side.

"Can't afford extra classes," Ian shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

"It's on me," Mickey swiped his top lip. He didn't miss the way that Ian's gaze lingered on his mouth,"Kinda need you..." really want you, "to, uh, look good..." as if he doesn't already, fucking red-headed alien-looking motherfucker, "on the floor..." of my bedroom, goddamn it, Mick, get it together! "the, uh, dance floor."

Ian paused, considering the way that Mickey was stumbling over his words in a way that one might call endearing, another might call the-worst-fucking-experience-of-his-life.

"I'll do it."

Do me. Seriously, go drink some water, oh my god.

Mickey literally took a sip from his water bottle, hoping that it would at least calm his nerves. He was a professional!

He crossed his arms over his chest. "You free after class?" A pause, "To work on some skills, I mean."

"It's a date," Ian smirked, leaning down to pick up his shoes from the ground in front of him. By the time he was upright again, Mickey had already started walking away, but the blush on his cheeks and the back of his neck could be spotted from a mile away. He was utterly fucked.

--

Mickey yawned and got up from his stretching position on the floor. He walked over to the stereo, systematically knocking his dancer's feet on his way over until they were all turned out and pointed.

"No Orange Boy today?" Svetlana asked, meeting Mickey's eyes with a challenging stare.

Mickey ignored the chorus of "He's so hot!" "Have you seen his arms?" and "Ian's the nicest!" from the rest of the girls.

Svetlana raised her eyebrow in question and Mickey's defenses flew out the window. This goddamn power dynamic was going to be the death of him.

"I put him on private lessons until he's no longer a disruption to the class," he shrugged.

"Aww," one brunette pouted.

"Disruption to class or disruption to tiny bulge in your pants?" Svetlana smirked, earning some scandalized gasps from the other dancers.

Mickey flipped her off, "The fucker made me take out a greater insurance policy with all his accidents, don't be fucking absurd."

A blonde nodded understandingly from the back of the class, "My ankle is still a little funky from the last lift we tried."

Mickey held his arms out in a display of I-told-you-so and Svetlana rolled her eyes.

"Great!" Mickey clapped his hands together, earning the full attention of his class as they hurried to their feet, "Now that all the hot drama is outta the air, let's do a quick warm up combo across the floor. Chasse step pas de bourree double pirouette step arabesque, in 5, 6, 7, 8..."

--

Ian had been waiting outside the studio for the last ten minutes of class, more-so watching his instructor shift around than paying attention to what the dancers were actually doing. That's probably what got him into his current predicament, and he couldn't decide whether that was a curse or a blessing. Mickey's arms flexed as he pointed across the room to call out someone's weak spot.

Yup, it was a blessing.

Oh shit, Mickey was looking his way. Was this a double sided mirror? No, of course not. Why would there be a double sided mirror? Oh, Mickey was definitely staring at him. Fuck. Wait, did he just wink? No way, he must've just blinked. With one eye. Yeah, totally normal. Nothing to overthink, Ian.

Get it together!

--

Mickey dismissed his class five minutes early and it had nothing to do with the Jolly Ginger Giant standing outside his studio.

While most of his dancers wordlessly accepted the easy out, Svetlana stayed back to taunt. "Have fun with private lessons," she sneered, jerking off an invisible cock.

"Choke on it," Mickey retorted tossing her warm-up jacket at her face, which she swiftly caught.

Svetlana turned and made a show of looking Ian up and down, his cheeks turning pink under her intense gaze. She faced Mickey head on, "You will be vegetable stew by the time this man is done with you."

The fuck does that mean?

Sometimes Mickey thought that Svetlana spoke in riddles just to mess with him. He blamed it on the Russian accent, never mind he was part Ukrainian himself. The languages were similar, but not identical, fuck you very much.

But, damn, forget that, Gallagher looked good. He was wearing his usual white tank top and grey sweatpants, but Mickey never got the opportunity to openly ogle in class. Not that that was what he was doing now.

Ian returned the long look appreciatively before stepping closer and Mickey snapped back into professionalism, well as far as professionalism goes, Milkovich-style.

He turned his back on the bane of his pathetic existence and snapped a quick but polite, "Get your shoes on and we can get started."

"Oh, right."

That seemed to be enough to get the gears in Ian's head going again as he dropped his bag to the floor, echoing in the truly empty studio, and dropping down onto the floor himself to secure his ballet shoes, which may as well be clown shoes for as big as his feet were. Mickey fit into the same brand as the girls, but he had to order special for Gallagher.

"Thanks for doing this, Mickey."

Mickey. The way that this man said his name was making him feel all sorts of flustered that he would most definitely deny.

"Mandy said you don't usually make exceptions."

"Gotta catch you up to speed or you're gonna be dancing with the 5 year-olds, man."

Ian tilted his head considering.

Mickey frowned, "Don't do it."

Ian smirked and Mickey had to look away as a grin and blush creeped up on his own face.

"Alright, so we'll start you off with the basics."

Mickey went through their normal class routine, but broke it down slowly, pausing to explain certain positions in details he couldn't afford to spend time with in class, specifically how not to fall. It should have been fairly obvious in his opinion, but Ian still managed somehow. The first few times, he was on the floor before Mickey even knew he was going down.

But the third, Mickey made a mistake. Mickey instinctively reached out to catch him.

As soon as he realized where his hands were, he pulled them off like he'd been burned, which he may have well been. He pulled his gaze to his feet, studying the floor while he composed himself.

"Mickey," Ian waited until he looked up, and then he spoke so quietly, "You can touch me."

And what made things worse was that Ian's dazzling eyes left little to the imagination. They both knew where this was going, and the moment was too intense too quick. The longer their eyes held, the hotter Mickey felt his neck grow.

"Ya know," Ian stepped closer. "To fix my positions..."

Mickey swallowed, "Uh, I think we're done for today."

He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He never meant them to begin with. But if Ian stayed any longer, Mickey was going to climb him like a tree and that really wasn't under his personal code of professionalism, no matter how loose those terms may be to begin with. It was getting late anyways, he reasoned with himself.

"What about the lifts? That's the important part, right?" Ian questioned, eyes pleading like he would die without this one skill being taught to him by his oh-so-unprofessional instructor.

Mickey sighed. Ya know what? Fuck it.

Mickey sauntered over to Ian, pressed his back to Ian's front, and grabbed one of Ian's massive hands and placed it on his own waist.

Ian gave an experimental squeeze and Mickey softened in his grip.

Ridiculous.

"We're not doing the lift are we?" Ian murmured breathily, hot air making the hairs on the back of Mickey's neck tingle.

"What do you think, Firecrotch?" Mickey pushed his weight back into Ian's chest, which would be the second mistake of the day.

Ian toppled over backwards, landing with a painful sounding thud and sending Mickey down on top of him before he rolled off the the side with a groan.

Ian started laughing and Mickey was concerned. Was this idiot actually fucking concussed this time? He wasn't sure how he would explain this to his insurance company.

Mickey straddled Ian's lap, gently slapping his face, "Are you good, man? Alive?"

"Never better." Ian was still smiling like an absolute goof.

Mickey raised an eyebrow in concern.

"Seriously, I just can't play things cool," Ian raised his hips to grind against Mickey's ass, "Obviously."

"You're an idiot," Mickey rolled his eyes, and all Ian could do was grin and reach up towards Mickey's neck, pulling his down until their lips almost touched, sharing breaths and excitement.

"Maybe," another breath, "But I still got you to fall for me."

It was Mickey's turn to laugh, more of a raspy exhale than anything. His "fuck you" was almost lost between them as they fell together at last.

(side note: this was the lift that they were going to do, so i feel like the hand on the waist makes sense -- gotta have a visual lmao)

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

✿H.S.- Beach trip★

Make a request!

Master list

Warnings: Very suggestive, plot is a little confusing?

Words: 1800+

Pairing: Hanta Sero x FEM!reader

Summary: Sero is the only one available to hold up your towel while you change

This has been in the drafts for a HOT MINUTE. Enjoy~~

===SUGGESTIVE UNDER THE CUT===

Field trips with class 1A were always... eventful in one way or another. From the multiple League of Villans attacks, to someone losing a hair pin. It was like a fun game of Spin the Wheel, except it wasn't fun.

A trip to the beach was innocent enough, and everyone was enjoying their time in the warm sun. You breathed in the salty air and sighed happily. You were one of the only people out of the water, savoring your popsicle before you changed and jumped in the cool waves.

"Want me to take that for you?" Sero grunted, nodding at your stained popsicle stick. His head was outlined by the sun, and his mullet was slicked to his neck from the water.

"If you wouldn't mind," you smiled, handing him the slightly sticky stick.

"Of course," he replied, jogging over to the nearest garbage can.

You looked around the beach before slipping off your shirt, carefully folding it into your bag so sand wouldn't get in the crevices. You pulled off your shorts, placing them in your bag the same way you did with your shirt. The sunscreen was cool against your warm skin as you carefully rubbed it all in.

"Ugh," you groaned, trying to reach your back, but obviously failing. Your back was going to pay later if you didn't protect it...

"Uh, need a little help?" Sero gulped, hand rubbing the side of his arm.

"Please," you giggled, "first the popsicle stick and now this... I appreciate it."

"It's not a problem!" Sero replied, reaching forward and grabbing the sunscreen tube, "w-we don't want your back to burn up."

His hands smoothly rubbed the cream into your back, taking care to get under the straps, (being cautious to not undo the bow that kept your suit together). Sero swallowed thickly at the thought of your top falling off, completely exposed to him. He shook his head slightly, no, don't be like Mineta. Don't be a perv.

"All done," he pat your shoulder and rubbed his greasy hands on his chest.

"Thanks again," you smiled, "I'm just gonna get the rest of my body and then join you all in the water."

Sero gave a friendly nod, and trotted off to the shore. His hands still tingled from rubbing your back, and he smiled as he splashed into the water.

You appeared a few minutes later, with your h/c hair up/down (your swimming hairstyle), and skin shining beautifully from the sunscreen. Sero had to avert his eyes to keep from staring at your, ehm, assets.

"Hey y/n-chan!" Mina waved, "that swimsuit looks so cute on you~"

"Thanks," you replied nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. "I was a bit unsure of it at first."

Sero glanced over to Kaminari, who was wiggling his eyebrows at him suggestively, 'make a move' he mouthed. Sero stiffly shook his head, and waded further into the salty water. He didn't have the guts to confess his feelings, and he was pretty shit at flirting.

"Oh C'mon, Sero! Don't you wanna play chicken with us?" Kirishima teased, smirking at Hanta. Mina was already atop his shoulders, gripping his hair as if they were reigns. She waved encouragingly, not wanting to pass up an opportunity to tease Hanta about his crush.

"Uh maybe later, I was just gonna swim around," Sero grinned nervously, pointing his thumb behind him.

"Just don't go too far, Sero-kun!" Iida instructed, fixing his cap and goggles, "incase of an emergency."

Most of Class 1A was at the summer house awaiting dinner— excluding you. See, you were in a predicament of sorts. You had forgotten an extra pair of underwear, to Y'know, change into after you've gotten all wet. And on top of that, you weren't allowed to go inside the summer house if you were wet.. GREAT. There weren't any change rooms on the beach (for some reason??), and you weren't willing to change out in the open. Shit.

The only other people on the beach were Mineta, Kaminari, Bakugo, Ojiro, and Sero. So, no girls to hold up a towel or two for you. You bit your lip as you thought this situation through. Maybe Sero could help you— you trusted him the most out of the five (plus he's your crush, so that's a bonus).

"Uh, Sero-kun?" You called out, grabbing Hanta's attention.

"Yeah?" He jogged up to you, his chest still shimmery and damp from the water.

"Can you please hold up a towel for me?" You asked nervously, holding one out.

"Um sure," he replied, holding it up. "Why?"

"Oh, there just isn't a change room and we're not allowed in if we're all wet," you explained, "um, just make sure the others can't see me."

"O-ok," Sero stuttered, looking away and back at the other guys. The big umbrella was blocking the backside of you, so he only had to worry about the front. He glanced back at you and gulped as you untied your bikini top. He snapped his head away before you could catch him snooping.

"Shit, uh d'you mind untying my top?" You asked, squeezing your eyes shut. "Mina double knotted it."

"S-sure," Hanta muttered as you turned around and took the towel from him. His hands were shaking, but he managed to undo the strings, and held up the piece of fabric again.

He nearly screamed when your top slid off, your bare back exposed to him. You were still turned, slipping off your bottoms, and a lump formed in Hanta's throat. Holy fuck. This was actually happening. He watched you slide your shorts on, and he internally keeled at the sight of your ass squeezing into your clothes. You weren't wearing anything under those shorts, Hanta realized, his eyes glued to your ass. Were you going to dinner like that?

You bent over to pick up a shirt, and Sero felt his dick throb. Fuckfuckfuck, no, he didn't want to get hard right now. His swim trunks had plenty of baggage to accentuate his erection, and he forced himself to peel his eyes away from your body in an attempt to go soft again.

He was just as bad as Mineta, Sero thought guiltily, trying to think of math or something to get his mind off of your beautiful body. The gods, apparently, felt like testing him today. In a fluid motion you slipped on your f/c tank top, and Sero admired your pebbled nipples once you turned around.

You watched Sero for a moment as he stared at your chest, oblivious to the fact that you could see him. His eyes trailed up to your face and they widened, his face flushing up.

"Uh," he choked out, looking to the side, "s-sorry."

"It's alright," you shrugged, wringing out your swimsuit. "Since it's you, it's not that big of a deal."

Hanta was still in a daze of embarrassment, and dropped the towel so it landed at his feet. Seeing you get on your knees in front of him to pick it up and fold it made his mouth dry, and his face got hotter.

"Thanks for holding up the towel for me," you looked up at Sero innocently.

He felt the silky fabric of his swim trunks brush pleasantly against the head of his hard cock, reminding him that you could very much see his erection. His dick twitched in anticipation, waiting for you to do something. Hanta's Adam's apple bobbed as he dryly swallowed his nerves, and his breath hitched when you moved to put the towel in your beach bag.

You stood up, grazing Sero's cock with your hand as you did so. You stood so close to him that he could smell your chapstick. His eyes locked with yours in a trance, the rest of his body still paralyzed. You leaned in impossibly closer and your lips hovered over his. Your hand cupped Hanta's bulge gently, and he couldn't take the suspense anymore. He leaned a millimeter closer with a whimper, and locked lips with you. Your other hand held his cheek, and his own found their way around your waist.

The way his lips feverishly pressed against yours was saccharine, your heart pounding against your ribs with alarming intensity. Sero could feel it no doubt, as his was beating just as hard. He sneakily snaked his tongue across your lower lip in an attempt to kiss you even deeper. You obliged his request, and sucked on his tongue. Hanta let out a surprised moan and he pulled you closer so his undoubting erection was pressed firmly against your palm. His hips rolled forwards again, and he finally pulled away to gasp for breath.

"Holy... fuck," Sero heaved, eyes locked with yours, and still holding you close. His pupils were blown wide and he nuzzled his cheek against your hand.

"Yeah..." you sighed, smiling at him softly. You looked into his eyes and admired the little details, getting lost in the pools of his stare. Your mouth opened to speak again, but you heard running footsteps and whipped your head towards the noise.

"Y-y/n!" Mineta wailed as he propelled his little legs towards you. "Sero! I can't believe you!!"

Hanta, still flushed in the face and also rock hard, awkwardly used you as a sort of shield so he wouldn't be exposed to his classmates. He could see Kaminari running after Mineta, arms reaching out; and for a horrified moment Sero thought he was about to grope your chest. Instead, Kaminari gripped Mineta by his pants, (giving him a wedgie lol), and yanked him up.

"Leave them be! Sero has been eye-fucking her for ages now, don't go ruining his chance to get laid!" Denki scolded the little cretin of a boy. "Sorry, we'll be going now," Kaminari dragged Mineta, who was kicking and screaming, into the summer house.

"Uh- sorry about them..." Sero blushed, embarrassed.

"Eye-fucking me?" You teased, leaning back into his embrace. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck and mumbled incoherently, "sorry, Sero-chan~ you'll have to speak up."

"Well... it's more like I've had a crush on you since our first year. So.. kind of, yeah." Hanta bashfully admitted.

"Hmm, well it's a good thing I have a crush on you too," you grinned, "maybe we should pack up and get back inside for dinner..."

"Er, yeah. But I'll probably miss out a bit on supper," Sero replied as he folded the umbrella closed. You gave him a knowing smirk, and you dug out your sunglasses from your bag.

"Well hopefully we can continue where we left off later tonight," you could feel his grin from behind you, and you couldn't help but copy. This was going to be a very interesting evening.

[acklesterritory]

Bad Ideas_Ch. 1

Hey guys, I'm back with a new story.

*First*: I want to apologize if I tagged you in case you didn't want to. Unfortunately I mixed up my tag list so please even if you don't read this story let me know if you're on my blog's

1. Dean tags or 2.series tags or 3.oneshot tags.

And reblog so the others see this post too. Thanks

**Second*I'm planning on finishing this story in 2 parts but sometimes it can take longer so no promises.

Dean x Reader

This chapter words~4k

Series Warning: +18, a/b/o relationships, Dom/Sub(No details. You know I hate spoilers), Angst, Smut, Unprotected sex (You're wiser that that), Cheating, Language, Hurt reader

Summary: She was supposed to get married and imprint her beloved wolf but what happens when a dominant hunter shows up to hunt them?

This chapter song: Wild by John legend feat Gary Clark Jr. Listen here

And I stole @jay-and-dean 's divider *sorry*

Happy reading and may you leave me something cause feedbacks are writer's fuel.

Mad, Sad, pretty, savage, seductive, crazy!

An obvious alpha.

I knew it from the first time I laid my eyes on her.

Couple of weeks ago I was at a luxury restaurant in my Fed suit to meet a businessman who could be involved in our new case. Doing that random investigation, I was getting convinced that there ain't any useful information and he was nothing but a waste of the time. So I excused myself and left the table to call Sam in the lobby. He had to know it was a dead end. But just when I was putting my phone back in my pocket, someone grabbed my arm from behind and pushed me against the wall out of blue.

"Say your name."

Wasn't my first time to face a seductive woman but for some unknown reason her whisper sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn't stop my eyes from gazing at her curves in that elegant black outfit.

"Listen. I got myself into this awful situation where I had to face this filthy woman announcing everyone in my birthday party that she was sleeping with my fiance. So before he show up to stop me, I need you to help them realizing something very important about me. And that help will be appreciated. So make your mind. You can just simply say your name and mention your price or I will kill you to make a scene and skip everyone's pitty looks part." She told me, running her right leg up, between my legs. To make me feel the bulge of her thigh holester underneath her dress: *She had a gun*

Wetting my lips, I looked down into her eyes for a second. She had some make up on but I knew enough to be sure that wild look couldn't be fake. She was a werewolf who probably had no idea what she got herself into.

"Name's Dean." I bit on my lip. Why I let her know my real name? I had no idea. I didn't want to think about it either. I just wanted to hold my gaze there, Letting myself to catch on those burning flames in her eyes.

"And sorry sweetheart. I'm off the sale."

I brought my lips closer to her ear so she could hear my whisper. However I hadn't to bend so much. Even without those elegant highheels, she was taller than a normal chick.

"What do you want, then?" She almost hissed on my lips before I pushed her back.

"Maybe I want you to be even more angry. Who knows?" I joked, distracting her for a second by my intentional smirk.

"You are a hunter, aren't you?" This time she surprised.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes and peaked out the tongue to wet my lips when she turned around for a second to catch a glimpse of whoever was approaching us.

"Just save my honor and then I'm yours. Kill, rape, torture. I don't mind anymore." There was no regret, shame or sorrow in her tone. She just stated it like a random proven fact. No hesitation, no hard feelings, no doubts. She was speaking like a smart commander in a war field, negotiating with her enemy to just save the day.

And to be honest I was stunned by that behavior. I know that I could resist her when she right away reached out but the thing is I didn't want to. As soon as she snaked her arms around my neck, her smell surrounded me like a trap. A captivating one. So pleasant! Then her lips were on mine in a shameless open-mouthed kiss. With her tongue dancing with mine.

I closed my eyes and immediately blood started to run wild in my veins. Every fiber, every cell were reacting to her warm body against my cold existence. It felt strange. I never was aroused by a kiss this fast. Not even when I was just a virgin teen.

"Y/n?!" A gruff voice called her. So she had to draw an unintentional groan out of me to break the kiss.

"That's him." She murmured on my lips. And I opened my eyes to look at a tall man in his fancy tuxedo. He was handsome. But not as much as he was wealthy. His watch could cost the whole hotel itself!

"What are you doing?" Eyes burning, he stared at me. Like he was watching the most terrible scene ever in his life.

"Well, ..." She smiled mischievously, getting out of my arms to stand next to me.

"Just enjoying my heat with a man who actually can handle it." She stated, smiling with her head up, radiating power.

"What..." The man's gaze shifted between us in disbelief.

"What do you ... what does ..." He was getting red by anger. And it seemed she couldn't care less.

"This is a break up, Jamie. I'm done with your endless excuses. I'm done with you, sleeping around while you can't even satisfy my needs in the bed. I need a better man."

*well, shit*

"You're … how you … can …" The man stuttered, shaking his head in disbelief. I looked around and found out people were gathering around us slowly. From the corner of my eyes I spotted two hunk in suits in front of the main door. They were definetaly bodyguards.

"That's it. We are done." She announced while everyone held their breath; watching her taking off her ring and throwing it toward her newly "ex".

"Y/N! …" The man took a step forward. His eyes were on fire and rage. Still his tone was soft, unlike his rough voice. "You can't do this. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding?" She laughed, tilting her head. Everyone could see how her fangs looked perfectly white and sharp: Ready, challenging, threatening!

"Is that so, Jamie?" She mocked before bringing out her phone out of her tiny clutch, throwing it to the guy after playing a video on it. By the noises I could hear, it was a sex type that made the man sweating bullets in no time.

"Now get the fuck out of my way and out of my life." She retorted, grabbing my hand. And as I was planning to win over the two bodyguards who mightly would stop us, we just reached to the main front door.

"Miss Y/l/N …" To my surprise, one of the bodyguards approached us politely. looking cool, calm, and all in control.

"You two can go home, Mark. I'm gonna spend the night with …" She hesitated and shut her eyes for a second to remember my name:

"… Dee. We probably need some private time for the next few days. I'll call you when I feel I need to get back home. But til that, I don't want any interruptions." She declared and by her steady and sure tone I could say she used to talk with them.

"But …"

"Just don't let Jamie get close to me ever again." She cut the bodyguard's word carelessly and then turned her face to look at me.

"You got any car?"

"Of course I do." I gave her my most proud smile.

"Ok then. Let's go out of here. I don't want to even take one more breath in here anymore."

I watched enough movies and read enough comics and slept with enough women to know that Y/n was a whole different savage alpha.

She was on the baby's seat in just her one single layer fancy dress that barely covered her body while it was freezing cold outside. To the point I could feel the chill in my FBI suit and coat the moment we walked out of the hotel. And still she protested me when I turned on baby's heater.

"She was pregnant." She said bluntly, a few minutes later, looking out of the window like she could see anything in road at that dark night through baby's steamed up glass.

I looked over her and catch a glimpse of her tears before she could wipe them.

"I can't believe he did this to me. Out of all the people, Jamie was the last one I expected him to betray me." She was hurting but her voice wasn't shaky. She still sounded more angry than sad.

"Maybe he didn't. Maybe the chick misused the hit of a moment to trick him."

*Why I'm defending him? He is a freaking werewolf!*

I had no idea! Maybe I was trying to soothe her pain. But Why?

"Yeah, maybe. But after all he is the one who let the devil in!" Her sound wasn't more than a whisper but it woke the old screams of my guiltyconscience in my head:

*How many times I had let the devil get in me?*

"Screw him." She said through her clenched teeth. Then she threw her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Screw him. Screw dad. And screw the whole royal pack. Screw everything!"

I sighed, knowing she will be angry for a while. So I turned on the radio, changing the stations to find something that might distract her. I just didn't need to watch that lady's upcoming tears.

I … wanna take you so far.

Out past the Saturn rings

And into my heart

The rhythm catched my attention immediately. It sounds like a nice song. A comforting one.

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

I wanna love you

For miles and miles

I chuckled, patting Baby on the wheels.

We can go slow,

we don't need to rush

I'll take the wheel,

make you feel every touch

I wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild

"Where is the lie, Baby? I always do." I chuckled, enjoying how the song perfectly suit us.

"Are you talking to me or to your old ass car?"

I was so ready to make Y/n regret that harsh remark, yet when I turned to give her my deadliest frown, she got me almost chocked on my tongue.

"Wha …"

A lace black lingerie hanging around the right knee, she had her legs wide open on my passenger seat‌, playing with her bare core with her delicate fingers while her left foot was using dashboard to support her weight.

Lay on the passenger's side

Tell me how fast you want

We'll get there tonight

Her right strap dropped when she jolted in her sex fever, almost revealing whole of her bare chest. And all of this was happening while she still had her eyes closed, panting in pain. I felt like I lost the ability to even form a God damn sound.

Oh, fire, you set me on fire

I swear you're the only one

I'd take on this ride

"What … are you … doing?!" My voice sounded horrible, scratchy and far. I darted my tongue to wet my lips but my mouth was already dry by watching her. It was no surprise that she didn't noticed my question. She was already lost in her body. Her neck was glistening under road's occasional faint lights and now all I could feel was her warmth in the small room of the car, already surrendered to her astounding smell, in middle of a freaking winter night.

… Oh, oh

Yeah

Wanna love you

Wanna touch you

Wanna drive you

Wild, wild, wild …

I jumped out of my skin when a sudden honk drew my attention out … to the road and I finally noticed the truck that could crash us to hell if I couldn't rotate the wheel just on time.

*Dang* Something beside me hit the windshield the moment I stepped on the break. Then a shattering sound cut the air.

"Y/N!" I screamed, trying to pull over without making any other mess.

"Hey … you hear me?" I asked as I turned to see her face buried in her hairs on the dashboard. A part of the windshield was broken in an oval shape, broken pieces scattered mostly on the passenger side while the rest of it had some cracks on.

"Y/N!" I called her again but when I couldn't get any answer, I get out of the car to circulate baby and open the passenger door.

"Hey … look here, can you hear me?" I pulled her carefully back, to rest her head against the seat, securing her neck between my hands. That was when my eyes catched on the sight of a deep cut on her forehead, right under the hair line. And it was bleeding.

"Y/n?"

She moaned, goosebumps raised on her skin everywhere around my fingers.

"I think I need to lay down on the back seat." She said, before opening her eyes.

"Are you in pain?" I couldn't help myself, not knowing why I suddenly would care that much?

She smiled and I reached to wipe the oozing blood on my thumb.

"I got a first-aid box in my trunk. Just wai…"

Before I could finish my saying and right as I started to withdraw, she grabbed my arm to hold me still.

"No, help me to the back seat." For a second I got lost in her eyes, feeling an odd fultter in the dip of my stomach, pulling me like a meaningless swarf toward the magnet of her wondrous touch.

"Please."

Mostly humans know that drinking sea water or getting hit by a gunshot can cause their death. But could that knowledge stop them from exploring oceans or fighting for their honor in the war fields?

"Dean …"

"Alright."

Well, I was a human too. A human who could be attracted to unknowns, being aware that it could be very dangerous. Or maybe more marvelous.

"You ok?" I asked as soon as I had her on my back seat, gazing at the sweat running down on the side of her face while one of my legs were resting inside of car, the other: still out, planted on the ground.

"I think I've hurt my back." I spotted a tremor in her voice as she avoided my puzzled look and stared down to her lap like she was hiding a secret there. Was that weapon still hidden there in that holster?

I checked my gun to be where it should've been. If she (as a werewolf) was up to kill me (as a hunter), I knew this could be her best shot. And honestly if It was me, I would've used the same trick.

"Are you gonna wait there for the rest of the night?" She raised her eyebrows and instantly hissed as the deep cut on her forehead got wrinkled with this simple move.

Taking a deep breath, I pulling myself completely in and closed the door behind. Well, I was aware that without any way out, she could've killed me much easier. But what kind of human could touch the moon without taking any fetal risk?

However I still didn't want to hurt her. So I hoped she wouldn't do what an enemy should do.

As I was all ready to confront her attack, she slightly turned her back to me. Then she grabbed her long hair and put them aside, giving me the access to her spine.

"Can you check it for me?"

Well, if she wanted to play, I was game too. In the end, I had killed enough werewolves to know how I could manage an alpha one like her. But … it was about something more. Something way stronger: A wild need and an ancient desire to touch her bare skin on my fingertips, tongue and teeth. A perfect example of a hunter and his prey. And yet … I was feeling like the first man who was about to discover the fire too.

"Do you want me to unzip it?" I asked to be sure. Never wanted her to feel like I would hurt her honor just because we were enemies. Even when touching her was all I could think about at the moment.

"Yes, please." She whispered and I noticed the same burning wish in her soft tone. So I couldn't help my fingers run their way on her back and touch the velvety fabric of her outfit.

She inhaled loudly as I unzipped the dress, watching the goosebumps raising on her skin as I was tracking down on her spine.

"I don't think you got any wound here."

"Then why I'm in pain?" She asked, leaning back to me. And I subconsciously pulling her dress down, not knowing why my everything wanted to touch her more?

"Hunter." Her breaths got quickened and as she rested her head back on my right shoulder and nuzzled her nose in my neck, I could tell she was still burning up.

"I'm in heat." She said, panting. And that was the moment I realized she was already lost by just imagining me inside of her.

"Y/n …"

"Dean ..." She whined as her hand found the side on my head.

"Dean, I need you." With that she pushed me down to claim my lips in a lustful kiss.

I could be a caveman or a scientist, or even an astronaut but for sure she was more than a thunderstorm or the electricity or even the mars itself.

"Ah … " She whimpered, her body twisted in my arms, like an angry wounded animal that was seeking for a remedy. From her owner.

"This is such a bad idea." I said as my hands grabbed her waist, trying to control her moves when she started to roll her hips impatiently.

"That's what people always say. To Galileo, To Da Vinci, even to ..." She claimed, taking my fingers with her delicate ones, to guide my hands up on her body.

" … to whoever with … " I stole her breath as my hands reached to her soft breasts.

"With the …"

She took a shaky breath to keep herself together. But I was that man who just had landed on the moon and now wasn't able to stop trying. So I grazed my teeth on the skin of her neck, marking her with a hickey right as I squeezed her breasts, giving her aroused nipples the special attention they deserved with my thumbs. Well, she fought to not fall apart and I had to fill her blank spaces:

"Best ideas?" I asked before biting on her lips, feeling the burning heat that was coming out of her skin. Could moon ever be the sun too?

"Hunter!" She almost cried as my left hand travels down on her belly and hips to find her already swelled bud and part her labia. "HUNTER!"

This time she really screamed as my thumb brushed her bud again while my other two digits sank in her warm core. Her walls sucked on my fingers.

"OH GOD!"

I was still rubbing her nipple with my other hand when she dug her nails in my arms.

"No!" She gasped.

"No? I thought you said it's not a bad idea."

I whispered before taking her earlobe between my teeth and pulled on it as her back fought hard to arch against my body. She got speechless, drown in whatever the black hole we both had fallen into. Now time and place were lost for us so I tightened my arms more around her body.

"Shush, alpha. Take it easy." I said as I removed my fingers from where I was making her weak. And that was out of the bare truth of a human's nature. We love to possess and we love to own. Even if it's the moon and the sun or maybe a lost star in the Infinity of the universe.

She jolted forward in ecstasy and I had to grabbed her wrists firmly before she could end herself: "No."

"Please! … God." She whimpered. Thighs shaking with need and thirst. But I knew better.

"My name is Dean."

But what else could make a negligible creature like me feel like a God more than this wolf of women during her pleasure?

I kissed her shoulder and hugged her from behind, letting her cool down as our warmth were mixing in the small room of the car. She was panting again.

"Come here."

I turned her chin toward my face, tasting her lips in an open mouthed and yet tender kiss, taking my time to draw some deep moans out of her chest.

Til she was nothing more than a pounding heart or a throbbing mess and a mind which had already got blind by lust.

Somehow I wanted this prideful moment to last forever.

"Deeaaaan!" She rubbed her thighs against each other, trying her best to control her wild necessity to come. I could tell it was making her mad cause now she couldn't even sit up in my lap.

"Lay down, sweetheart" I encouraged. And as she did, I got rid of our clothes as soon as I could. When I was done, I noticed her passionate gaze on me.

"You'll be the death of me!" She admitted and I bent to lick her along her jaw.

"No, I need you alive. We still got some dirty work to do."

My whisper made her shiver. And moan. Again and again.

Looking down, I watched how her body were twisting under me, once more rubbing her thights together as I was holding her wrists up beside her head.

"Open up, alpha." I commended, reaching to her core, making her pants in pain as I mercilessly squeezed her bud.

She took another shaky breath, as she parted her legs for me. So I take the advantage to lube myself with her juice as she was already dripping.

"I said don't come yet." I slapped her breast and bent to bite her hard on the other one, sliding myself in her velvety heaven.

"DEAN!" She cried and her eyes rolled. And I tried to freeze this image in my mind. Could a God be more proud of himself?

But It was just the beginning. I decided to start my favorite rhythm to slam into her. And kept watching her bliss and how her soft and round breast were bouncing every time out hips met.

"You're doing good, sweetheart. I know you can." I could not stopped my smile when I realized she'd almost fainted, fighting against her mad orgasm.

"Aa…ha." She tried to answer but it sounded more like a painful moan which I muffled it in a kiss. Sweet and sore. Wet and shameless. We now were a part of one another. The mystery was solved. The cold God was melting in the arms of the sun. The man kind had won the moon.

"Come." I groaned and her walls clenched around me, sucking me inside of her.

Her back arched violently and I had to clutched at the leather seats to keep myself up when an unstoppable rush of pleasure hit both of us.

And just like that, we made the big trouble. The gravity that could swallow our futures all together …

"To be continued".

Temporary tag list: @akshi8278 @adoptdontshoppets @slamminmine @missafairy @anunstablefangirl @lauraashley93 @mimaria420 @roonyxx @chocolateheart @cocahood @pandaxo79 @bennyspengwing @holylulusworld

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way. 

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl. 

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway. 

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby. 

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens.  Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail. 

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name. 

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.” 

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns. 

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message. 

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there. 

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits. 

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”  

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her. 

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take. 

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door. 

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee. 

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests. 

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out. 

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.” 

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t  know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden. 

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected,  and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry. 

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden. 

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning. 

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag. 

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue. 

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set. 

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song. 

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.  

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords. 

Meet me in the hallway 

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway 

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom 

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine 

“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt? 

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction. 

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly. 

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already?  She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way. 

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in. 

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt? 

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different. 

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written. 

“I should go back,” 

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.” 

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets. 

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said. 

I walked the streets all day 

Running with the thieves 

‘Cause you left me in the hallway 

Just take my pain away 

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on. 

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing? 

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face. 

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow. 

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

 “Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain. 

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile. 

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart. 

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly. 

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return. 

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him. 

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping. 

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb. 

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie. 

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her. 

She nods and he takes a step back. 

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases. 

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway. 

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits. 

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside. 

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?” 

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning. 

“No,”  he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,” 

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed. 

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten. 

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees. 

“What’s it called?” she questions. 

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues. 

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go. 

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her. 

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space. 

If you’re gonna let me down 

Let me down gently don’t pretend 

That you don’t want me 

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors. 

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors. 

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?��

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues. 

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.” 

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside. 

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them. 

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up. 

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long. 

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously. 

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” 

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,” 

“I was,” 

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,” 

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words. 

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.” 

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home. 

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh. 

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically. 

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,” 

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,” 

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,” 

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,” 

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying. 

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,” 

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts. 

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?” 

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did. 

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears. 

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back. 

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat. 

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers. 

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.  

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over. 

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond. 

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw. 

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound. 

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch. 

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it. 

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces. 

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,” 

 “M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring. 

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks. 

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue. 

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak. 

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches. 

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go. 

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?” 

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her. 

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,” 

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow. 

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs  her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back. 

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. 

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris. 

We don’t know where we’re going 

But we know where we belong 

And oh we started 

Two hearts in one home 

It’s hard when we argue 

We’re both stubborn 

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature 

Wherever I go, you bring me home 

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road 

You bring me home

[marmosa]

if it were up to me.

George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: none!!

A/N: i don’t celebrate christmas, but if you do- merry christmas!!!! i hope this is a lovely treat for all of you that do and don’t celebrate the holiday. i’ve been binge watching the movies with my sibling this past week (we’re on winter break right now) and i was just on a roll (finally got some inspo thank god). but i loved writing this piece and i truly hope you all enjoy reading it just as much as i did writing it. happy holidays to you all, i love you tons <3

***

“Are you busy right now?” 

[y/n] looked up from the papers splayed out over the table in front of her, her lips pursing into a little pout of annoyance at her broken spell of silence. She grit down a sarcastic remark and looked over her shoulder towards the source of the sound, the venom bubbling to the tip of her tongue dissolving in an instant as she put a face to the voice. 

“Ah! George! Um, a little bit, but I have a moment to spare. What do you need?” 

He visibly relaxed when the soft tone of her voice ran through his ears, her inviting smile and outturned posture welcoming him into her space, “I wanted to ask you a question actually.” 

[y/n] furrowed her brows and quirked her head to the side, her brain rapidly noting and filing his odd behavior. George was naturally more calm in his pursuits and actions, well as calm as a Weasley twin could be anyway, but this seemed to her a bit overkill. As he stalked over, she picked up on the way he was wringing his hands and the corners of his smile were twitching. It irked her, but she resigned not to mention it. 

“Well, out with it already! You’re making me nervous just standing there,” she chuckled, using her ankle to pull out the chair next to her, motioning for him to take a seat with a jerk of her chin. 

He let out a puff of air and plopped down next to her, slumping his shoulders into the chair. [y/n] couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her at his display of annoyance, his eyes flickering to her face for what felt like the first time since he approached her. He could feel his smile twitch yet again as he rehearsed what he was supposed to tell her. 

“Okay, well it’s less of a question and more of an explanation and then a query,” he explained, obviously trying to dance around getting to the point. 

“Alright, out with it then,” she nodded, raising her brows with a tilt of her head to edge him on. 

“Uhm, Merlin, he’s a bloody git for making me do this,” George groaned, shielding his face with his hands and lulling his head backwards. 

“Who’s a- George if you keep beating around the bush I’m gonna tune you out and get back to work,” [y/n] huffed, her expression falling into one of mild irritation. 

“Sorry! Sorry- uh, you know Emmett right?” George began, his heart twisting in his chest with every word that started to tumble forth from his mouth. 

“Yeah, we have nearly four classes together. What about him?” 

“Well, uhm, he was too nervous to ask you himself- Hufflepuff and all, so he requested my services during potions. Came up to me, sweating awful bad, red up to his neck, and asked that I ask you if you’d go to Hogsmeade with him this coming week,” George finished the last part with venom biting at his tongue, his retelling obviously botched out of Emmett’s favor. 

[y/n] could feel the embarrassment bleed its way into every single crack of her face, her eyes bulging out of their sockets as her brain drowned in it’s process’. She quickly averted her gaze to the papers next to her, grabbing at some blank parchment and her quill. 

“That- uhm, wow! That’s incredibly sweet of him to ask. However-” 

George felt his heart begin soar at the ‘however’, biting back his extremely obvious shit-eating grin fighting its way onto his face, “Yes?” 

“I was actually hoping someone else would ask me to Hogsmeade, well not necessarily ask, more like officiate it as a date of sorts? I-I don’t know, but I unfortunately can’t accept his offer- lovely as it is! Of course,” she rushed out, chewing on the inside of her cheek to try and soothe the discomfort bubbling in her stomach. 

“So, that’s a no?” George questioned for clarification, more to fan his internal flame of victory than get an answer for the Hufflepuff boy. 

“Yeah, it’s a no- oh! But George, do let him down gently please, I know Emmett and he can be a bit overcritical at times. Just let him know it’s not his fault, I just happen to like someone else,” she trailed off, her eyes glued to her hand that had subconsciously shot forward to squeeze George’s wrist as he stood up to go dutifully deliver her answer. 

“Anything for you,” he finally let his smile crack through, his other hand reaching over and squeezing hers, “See you in the Great Hall?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, retracting her hand and turning back to her work as George padded away, leaving her to her thoughts. 

As soon as she was sure he was out of ear shot she let out a string of curse words, her head falling forward with a defined thunk, “Merlin, now I can’t finish my work at all.” 

***

“[y/n]! What took you so bloody long?” Esme called out from the table, clambering out of her seat to rush over to her friend who looked more than a little flustered. 

“Oh you know, the usual, running into yet another ridiculous unfathomable situation,” [y/n] shook her head, plopping into her seat. 

“Do tell,” Esme hummed, her lips curled up into an expectant smile. 

“Don’t be shy, give us all the details,” Lucile chirped from across the table, pointing at [y/n] with a fork adorned with a chunk of turkey.

[y/n] looked down and across the table, scanning the area to make sure George and none of his pals were anywhere to be seen. She let out a puff of air as soon as she deduced that the coast was clear, motioning for her friends to huddle in as best they could with their seating arrangement. 

“So you know how I usually spend my free period in the library doing homework, right?” 

The two other girls nodded, Esme already giving [y/n] that cheeky, suggestive grin. [y/n] frowned and shook her off, slapping Esme’s shoulder lightly with a plain ‘ew’. 

“Well George came up to me, acting all the more nervous, completely out of sorts for him-,” 

“A Weasley twin? Nervous? Someone pinch me I must be hearing things,” Lucile whistled, frowning when Esme kicked her leg under to table in a silent warning to watch her volume. 

“And then he spends forever getting to the point of his sudden appearance and it turns out Emmett set him to ask me to go to Hogsmeade with him!” 

“The Hufflepuff?”

“Yes” 

“Well, what did you say?!” Lucile urged, setting her drink down to minimize the splash zone had [y/n] given them a surprising answer. 

“No, of course! You know I like-,” [y/n] whipped her head around, doing yet another sweep of the table to ensure she wouldn’t be heard by the wrong people before dropping her voice to a hush, “you know I like George.” 

“No wonder he was nervous!” Esme threw her hands up, earning herself a few awkward glances from the people seated next to them, “he was worried you’d take up Emmett’s offer.” 

[y/n] could feel that same embarrassment from earlier draw itself taut on her features, as she folded into herself, “That’s a load of rubbish.” 

“No, Esme’s right. If you certain he approached you as awkward and nervous as he was, it’s probably because he didn’t want you to say yes to Emmett’s offer,” Lucile concurred, finally directing her attention back to her meal, “besides, I passed him and Lee in the hall earlier and I caught your name.” 

“What-?” [y/n] coughed, nearly choking on her food at Leslie’s far to casual mention of this piece of information. 

“Yeah and then when they saw me they went all quiet and headed the opposite direction of me,” Leslie nodded, biting back an amused smile as she watched [y/n] literally melt in on herself in real time. 

“You’re bluffing! That’s great news innit! Come on [y/n] you’ve gotta let yourself accept that he likes you,” Esme clicked her tongue, elbowing her in the side gently. 

“I won’t because it’s not true. Besides, we’re already going as friends and I think that’s quite alright for me,” [y/n] shook her head, shrugging off Esme’s side eye and disproving frown. 

“Whatever you say, Ms. denial,” Lucile grumbled, pouring some more gravy over her turkey. 

“If you don’t quit picking on me I’m going to head off to the dormitories and forget this interaction ever happened,” [y/n] deadpanned, crossing her arms over her chest with a pout. 

“We wouldn’t have to pick on you if you’d just admit that he likes you already!” Esme nearly shouted, sinking into herself slightly when Lucile took her turn reminding her to watch her volume. 

“What’s all this about picking on [y/n]?” 

[y/n]’s face went slack with horror, as her nerves painted themselves plainly obvious on her features. She passed Lucile a pleading look not to mention anything, and Esme didn’t need to be told twice simply by the waves of terror rolling off of [y/n]. 

“Just teasing her for the whole Emmett thing, it’s quite funny if you ask me. Poor lad will just have to find someone else, but so’s life,” Esme chuckled, scooting to the side to make room between her and [y/n] for George to take a seat. 

“Exactly, that’s what I said! Which, by the way, he took the let down very nicely [y/n]. So don’t go beating yourself up over something you couldn’t help,” George mentioned, reaching around [y/n]’s shoulder to give her a squeeze. 

“Thanks George, I appreciate it,” [y/n] smiled, ducking her head slightly to try and conceal the water building up in her eyes purely from nerves. 

“He’s a Hufflepuff, he’ll cry it out, get a few hugs from his pals and move on with it,” Lee noted from across the table, he and Fred taking liberty to sandwich Lucile between them. 

“Aside from him, we heard you already had a fancy in mind- is that true [y/n]?” Fred added, leaning his chin onto his hand, a devilish quirk to his grin. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” [y/n] snipped back, sticking out her tongue in defiance, “Why are we even concerned with my love life anyway? Esme might be going with Dina, Lucile has got her hands full of potential suitors, Lee’s got his dates for the next month planned, Fred is practically tripping over himself for his newest infatuation, and George’s got- wait, what’ve you got George?” 

It was George’s turn to feign embarrassment, the red slowly seeping up his neck until it overtook his entire face, “Well, nothing in particular actually, it’s quite complicated-,” 

“Complicated in that his crush is shy and he’s shy and they’re both hopeless but he’d kill me if I tried to help, so we’re all just waiting for a miracle to drop from the sky,” Fred sighed dramatically, reaching across the table to snatch a roll from one of the quickly emptying break baskets. 

“When you put it that way it sounds lame,” George grumbled, passing his brother a bitter look, “It doesn’t matter anyway. Hogsmeade is just a bit of holiday magic, something could happen at any time.” 

“He does make a point there,” Lucile chimed in, nodding her head in agreement.

“Oh for Merlin’s sake, you’re literally living your own version of The Bachelorette- if I can recall that’s what my cousin told me. Anyhow, if anyone needs a bit of holiday magic it certainly isn’t you,” Esme giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at Lucile’s less than amused expression. 

“What’s this Bachelorette you mentioned all about?” Fred quipped, his eyes sparkling with interest. 

“You’d certainly enjoy it, Fred. What with your lifestyle of charm and dazzling your fancies and all,” Esme hummed. 

“Did you just call me a slag?” Fred gasped, faux hurt painted across his face. 

“I did nothing of the sort! Don’t you put words in my mouth,” Esme threatened, pointing an accusing finger at Fred. 

George rolled his eyes at his friends’ antics and decided now was a great a time as any to slip away while everyone was distracted. He carefully elbowed [y/n] who was thoroughly amused with the electric banter flying across the table, her head snapping to the side at his redirection of her attention. 

He mouthed a silent ‘want to get out of here?” to which she responded with an eager nod. George’s smile widened and her made quick work of maneuvering his long limbs out of the table, offering a helping hand to [y/n] shortly after gaining his bearings. 

The two began to head off but not without Lucile calling after them, “Where are the two of you headed!?” 

[y/n] swiveled around with a messily concealed expression of excitement, offering their friends nothing more than a bouncy shrug of her shoulders before she turned back around and quickened her pace to match George’s. 

The cacophony of sounds echoing from the Great Hall slowly trickled down to nothing but a dull murmur, the occasional hallway conversation the only discernible noise through the sleepy castle. 

“So, I take it you needed a breather after that harsh interrogation,” George began, burying his hands into the pockets of his robes. 

“You wouldn’t believe. I swear they were moments away from drilling me for my Ministry administered ID,” [y/n] giggled, shaking her head, “honestly, you’d think they’d get tired of asking a question they never get an answer too.” 

“Very much so. Maybe it’s just blind optimism and a bit of hope that one day they’ll chip away enough at it that you’ll just give in and admit it,” He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “But who knows.” 

[y/n] hummed in agreement, pulling her robes tighter around her body to try and hoard every last sliver of heat she could as they wandered the corridors of the castle, “so, what’d you drag me out here to do?”

“Truthfully I just wanted to get out of there, I had no general plan in mind. But hey! I’m a Weasley, we’ll find something to do soon enough,” He grinned ear to ear, making a show of his jazz hands. 

“I’d usually recommend going out to sit under the stars but the snow and cloudy sky do make that a very unpleasant option,” she sighed, blowing out a puff of air from between her lips. 

“Oh! I know, I have the perfect idea,” He exclaimed giddily, “I know you’re going to start out opposed but hear me out.”

George grabbed her hands and drew her to the side, huddling his shoulder to try and minimize his size to capitalize on whatever privacy they had made for themselves in the tiny little niche in the wall. 

“It’s not against the rules is it?” [y/n] questioned, a concerned quirk in her brow. 

“Not entirely,” He trailed off, trying his best to reel her back on board when she looked more than a bit opposed, “But it won’t get us in trouble- or not a lot of trouble, at least. If anything happens I’ll take the blame, I swear on Godric Gryffindor himself.” 

“Fine, fine, tell me your idea,” she giggled, drawing her lip between her teeth to try and get her bubbly laughter under control. 

“Okay, so you know all those dusty, old, empty classrooms on the upper levels?” He paused, waiting for her nod of conformation, “well, they just so happen to be the perfect place to practice charms, spells, and the newest collection of Weasley Wizard Wheeze’s.” 

“You’re letting me see the new line?” [y/n] gasped with glee, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

“Not necessarily new, more like a final product. But more or less yes,” He nodded eagerly, his hair shaking with the aggressive movement. 

“Well, what’re you waiting for? Lead the way!” 

“Say no more.” 

***

“You were not lying when you said these places were dusty,” [y/n] coughed, fanning the invisible particles from out of her face, taking in the clothed furniture and dim windows. 

“It’s not the brightest place, but it’s not too shabby either! Watch this,” George muttered a spell and flicked his wand, all the candles and wall fixtures flickering to life before them.  

[y/n] turned to him with an impressed look, her arms crossed over her chest in pride, “Since when have you paid any attention in charms?” 

“Since forever! I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He rolled his eyes, getting on his hands and knees to search under the furniture for his hidden treasure, “ah ha!” 

“What’ve you found?” She quipped, jogging over to help him with whatever his search had brought him. 

“The new line of course,” He grinned, handing her a lovely orange and purple box, pushing himself off the floor to dust the particles off his robes, “Do ya like the packaging?” 

“It’s certainly bright,” She nodded, lifting the box up slightly to examine the bottom, “I like the ribbon though, it’s a beautiful shade of purple.” 

George felt his smile soften as he reached forward and pulled the ribbon loose from the box, dangling it in front of her, “Well then it’s yours.” 

“Really?” She asked softly, setting down the box, taking the soft piece of fabric from him. 

“Of course. It’d probably end up in the trash anyway. It’d look much lovelier in whatever way you intend to put it to use,” He grinned, leaning against the desk that held the box. 

“Thank you,” She muttered sheepishly, reaching behind her to tie up a section of her hair, “I love it already.” 

George could feel the blood rushing to his ears as he looked at her with pure adoration, his heart drumming against his ribcage so aggressively he was sure it was going to beat right out onto that dusty floor. 

“S’no problem,” He tipped his head forward courteously, “now, you wanna try out some Wheezes?”

“You bet I do.” 

***

“I can’t believe you guys managed to make all this stuff!” [y/n] squealed in childlike delight as she pulled yet another one of their confetti party favors, the confetti charmed to bloom into flowers as soon as they hit the ground. 

“It’s our passion, the thing we love most. I’m just glad it’s having its desired effect,” George chuckled, stomping on the now empty box of trinkets to flatten it out. 

“You guys are some of the most talented people I know. You’re incredible George,” She breathed, reaching down to pick up one of the confetti flowers, stroking its petals ever so carefully. 

George felt time stop. Her words looping in his mind like a broken record, her rolled up sleeves, out of place hair, and gentle handling of the flower an image he was never going to burn from his mind. He felt as if he could scoop her up right there and consume her in a hug so strong she’d melt into his arms and never leave them. 

[y/n] glanced over her shoulder at George, who was sitting crisscross on one of the desks they’d uncovered. Her smile faltered when she noted the way he was looking at her, a far-away look in his eyes and a weird quirk to his lips. She was suddenly extremely self-conscious under his gaze and she quickly straightened out her posture, coughing as if to clear her throat. 

“I look rather unkempt now, huh? Reckon I was having a bit too much fun,” She chuckled quietly, clicking her heels together. 

“You look fine,” George spoke up, suddenly in front of her. 

“You’re just saying that to be nice, I know there’s probably confetti in my hair or ash on my cheeks,” She shook her head, eyes flickering to meet his. 

Her heart nearly stopped, his gaze so intense it made her want to sink so far into herself that she just disappeared and never returned. She wanted to know what he was thinking, what had him so trained on her. It was almost certain in her mind that there was something up with her appearance. 

“Well?” She asked, trying to coerce some words out of him. 

“S’just a little smudge of ash, right here-,” He squinted, reaching forward and swiping his thumb right on the apple of her cheek, letting his hand linger on her face a little longer than it needed to. 

“Oh- thanks,” She swallowed, sounding far too breathless for her comfort, but pretending to not notice just how obviously out of sorts she was feeling. 

“No problem.” 

The two stood side by side in their own little world for what felt like forever, until [y/n] felt the bubble of words lodged in her throat finally pop and surge forward, “are you going to Hogsmeade with anyone?” 

Her brain immediately wanted to back peddle and come up with some shitty excuse as to why she asked such an out of place question, but it was near impossible now as George was already jumping to answer her question. 

“I was thinking it was just going to be Fred, Lee, and I. Maybe we’d run into you and your friends. Like every year. But-,” He shrugged, “I was kind of hoping for something else this time ‘round.” 

“Something else?” She echoed. 

“Like a date,” He continued.

“Anyone in mind?” 

George fell silent, offering her nothing more than a silent nod. Because when it came down to it, admitting feelings for someone when they were right in front of your face seemed more daunting than anything. 

[y/n] nodded and shuffled off to retrieve her things, straightening out her dress shirt and pulling on her robes. She could hear George behind her doing the same, a soft gust of wind letting her know he was also tending to the aftermath of their games. 

“Thanks for inviting me out to do this, it was fun,” She spoke up, still not daring to look up from her hands, continuing to pretend that she was still busy fixing her attire. 

“Anytime,” He replied, waving his wand to send the trash to the bin, ‘you’re always welcome to have fun with me.” 

“Good to know,” she hummed softly, “well, I don’t know what your plans for the night are, but I best be getting to bed.” 

George wanted to say something, anything, to try and make it clear that she was the girl he was thinking about. That she was the one he wanted to take to Hogsmeade on a date. That she was the one he wanted to drink butterbeer with, buy a cute gift for, play in the snow with, and then cuddle by the fire after it all. It was always her he wanted to do those things with. Always. 

But his words failed him once more and he finished the last of his cleaning, offering her a small gesture of farewell, “I have to find Fred and Lee, we sort of planned for something later tonight, so...”

“I understand. You lot are always having far more fun than you should be,” She giggled softly, “But I’ll be off then, I don’t want to worry Esme.” 

“Yeah, don’t keep her waiting. Merlin knows she’d have my head if she found out I was responsible for getting you in trouble,” He snickered. 

“That is very much true, she certainly would do that. Anyway, Goodnight George,” [y/n] waved him goodbye, shutting the classroom door behind her with a click. 

***

“You look far too down in the dumps for the night before Hogsmeade, what’s got you so low?” Esme questioned, hopping over the top of the sofa and sliding down next to [y/n]. 

“It’s nothing, really, I’m not upset, just sleepy,” [y/n] assured, shaking her head with a weak smile. 

“I know you and I know a liar when I see one. Come on, out with it, before I go get Lucile to talk your brains out,” Esme huffed, scooting closer and wrapping her arms around [y/n], “you can talk to me y’know.” 

“I know. It’s just-,” [y/n] sighed, letting herself relax into her friends embrace, “Everyone kept saying George liked me and I was really hoping he would’ve built the nerve to ask me to Hogsmeade. But it seems like I was right, and he doesn’t like me that way. I’m sorry to bore you with this topic again, it seems like the only thing we’ve spoken about for the past couple of days, but I- I just wished you guys had been right about us.” 

Esme could feel the sadness building up in [y/n] by the quiver in her voice and softening of her tone. It broke her heart to see her friend so distraught, especially over something as trivial as a boy. But she knew well enough herself how much these sorts of things meant to her and her friends and despite her urge to tell [y/n] to just push him out and party, she knew that would be of no help.

“I understand darling,” Esme cooed, squeezing [y/n]’s shoulder, “and I’m sorry things turned this way. But remember, we’re all going to spend time together tomorrow with our favorite candies and drinks, near the crackling fire with the winter blizzard swirling outside. It’s going to be lovely and just like George himself said, a little holiday magic isn’t the only opportunity to confess your feelings.” 

[y/n] giggled through her sniffles, rubbing her fists into her eyes to try and dissipate the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She knew Esme was right and though all she could feel was a dull hole in her chest at the prospect of only meeting George as a friend tomorrow, she knew Hogsmeade in itself never disappointed. 

“You’re right, no more tears from me, I promise,” [y/n] smiled.

“You better not, tomorrow is about fun, now off to bed! We’ve got a day ahead of us tomorrow!” 

***

The Three Broomsticks bustled with business, students of every kind huddled together with glasses of butterbeer engaged in cheery conversation. The three girls had found themselves tucked off in a cozy little corner, giggling about something or other, lips covered in foam. 

“And that’s when I turned to him and told him to shut his mouth before we both got caught and ended up in detention,” Lucile exclaimed, throwing her hands up and falling back against her chair. 

“Scandal!” Esme and [y/n] gasped, exchanging looks of intrigued horror. 

“There’s no way he did that, not-,” [y/n] stifled a laugh, dropping her tone to a hush “not in the common room.” 

“Oh, but he did!” Lucile broke into another fit of laughter, her head hitting the table with a thunk as she struggled to real herself back in.  

[y/n] finally got a grip of her laughter, trying to equalize her breathing pattern as she scanned the restaurant for familiar faces, her cheery disposition quickly dying out as she recognized the patrons who’d just entered the shop. 

Esme picked up on her change of manner and reached across the table, squeezing her hand with a reassuring smile, “It’ll be fine.” 

[y/n] returned a weak smile and nod, “I know. Don’t worry about me.” 

The three girls sobered themselves up as Lee, George, and Fred made their way over to the table all with cheery grins plastered on their faces. 

“Well ladies, how’s Hogsmeade been treating you so far?” Fred inquired, sliding into the booth next to Esme, Lee following suit.

“You know, gossip, jokes, more gossip-,” Lucile began, giggling at the looks the boys gave them. 

“And lots of butterbeer,” [y/n] added, raising her glass in the air. 

“Speaking of butterbeer, here comes our order,” George noted, rubbing his hands together happily as he slid in next to [y/n] and Lucile. 

“Lovely timing,” Fred noted, the table erupting in a cacophony of ‘thank you’s.

The table broke out into conversation, some involving everyone and others only demanding the attention of a few. Amusement, horror, anger, and disgust all adorned their features as they cycled through topics, never at a shortage of something to grace the table with. 

As time passed they found themselves outside, discussing where to head off to next, everyone with hopes of their own for the rest of the day. It ended up being decided that Esme and Lee would head off to the Sweet’s shop, Lucile and Fred would make a stop at the Instrumental shop for some personal supplies, and  [y/n] and George would be at the bookstore. Then they’d all meet up at one of the gift shops to search for some small gifts and knick-knacks. 

Before they all headed on their own separate ways, Esme made sure to give [y/n] a tight hug and some reassuring words. The group split and left each other to their own devices before they were to regroup. 

“Is there any book you’re looking for in particular?” George asked, quick to keep their dialogue going. 

“Well not really, I’m actually looking for a few bookmarks and some new pens and such. The bookstore has a lovely selection there, so,” [y/n] explained, glad he shouldered the burden of lighting a conversation. 

“That’s nice, reminds me that I do need some new quills. I have gone through far too many for comfort, my mum is going to gut me when we head home for break,” he chuckled, shaking his head with a shudder. 

“Come on, she cant be that bad. Besides, I know a spell to fix them right up, if you ever need it.”

“First off thank you, I appreciate it. Secondly, if you’re so sure you should come over during the holiday’s, meet her for yourself.”

“Are you inviting me over for Holiday break?” She asked, surprise evident in her tone. 

“I guess I am,” He chuckled, “Only if you want to, of course.” 

“I’d be delighted to join your family for the holidays.”

“Terrific! I’ll send an owl to my mum as soon as we return to the castle!” 

The book store run didn’t last for very long considering they both had an idea of exactly what they needed, the only dallied around the new shipment of quills that were fancifully decorated, as the glitter was hardly something anyone could resist. They paid for their things and stepped back out into the frigid cold, the snow surprisingly calming down quite a bit considering they’d expected it to only turn up. 

“Hm, it seems we still have a decent amount of time to spare,” George muttered, glancing down at his wrist watch. 

“What should we do? I doubt the others are finished,” [y/n] exhaled, the plume of air dancing in front of her before blending in with the rest of the atmosphere. 

“I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me,” He perked up, that same giddy excitement from the night before written all over his face. 

“As long as you’re not dragging me to the Shrieking Shack, I’m more than happy to come along.” 

“Brilliant, alright then, follow me!” 

***

“Oh, Merlin!” 

[y/n] gaped at the scenery, her eyes bulging out of her head as she took in the beauty around her. The trees towered high over them, covered in sheets of snow, the green peaking out as if to remind them that it was still persisting through the cold. A few patches here and there of purple flowers that had withstood the freezing cold, poking out from under the snow. A lone bench poised in the center of it all, the entire place feeling like a little nook they could call their own. 

“This place is gorgeous George! How ever did you find it?” She breathed, absolutely enamored with the way everything looked. 

“You’d be surprised what you can find with a few years of exploring and adventuring under your belt,” He nodded, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at her display of wonder. 

“Yet again, you are absolutely incredible George,” She said, more to herself than him, but still managing to get him flustered.

“I’m glad you like it, I’d hoped you would. Wanna take a seat?”

“Oh, sure!” 

She staggered over, dragging her feet through the thick layers of snow towards the bench, pulling out her wand to mutter an incantation so that the snow on the bench melted away, leaving it clean and dry for them to sit on. She plopped down with a huff of content, her legs finally getting a break from all their heaving in their monstrous snow boots.  

“I’ve always wanted to bring someone here, y’know,” George sighed, setting his bag of stuff down between his feet. 

“Am I-?” 

“The first person I’ve brought here? Yeah,” He nodded, a small smile unconsciously pushing its way onto his lips. 

“I- I don’t know what to say,” She nearly whispered, taken aback with just how forward he was being and just how lucky of a position she was in, “thank you George.” 

“Of course,” He grinned at her, his cheeks red from the blistering cold. 

“Hey George?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

His smile faltered and his eyes widened as he processed her request. 

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask, because I got a feeling-,” She went off, trying to save whatever was left of her dignity. 

“[y/n]!” He grabbed her face, turning her head so she was facing him again, “you can.” 

He pulled her into him, their lips connecting in a sweet exchange. She felt her bag slide out of her lap as she scooted closer to him, her arms wrapping around his torso, trying to pull him into her the best she could with their awkward positioning. He did the same, pressing into the curve of her body as he held her face like if he let go she’d vanish. 

It was a soft and drawn out kiss, the two finally reveling in the fact that they’d both gotten what they’d so desperately wanted all this time. George could practically feel himself going lightheaded from just how overwhelmed he was. 

When they pulled away, he had that same grin, giddy joy practically radiating off of him, “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” 

“Me too,” she giggled, unwrapping her arms from around him to reach forward and tuck his stray hairs back under his hat. 

“Can we do it again?” He asked, eyes wide with childlike anticipation. 

“You can do it as much as you’d like, darling. I’m all yours from here on out,” She hummed, slinging her arms around his neck

“Absolutely wicked! Now c’mere, love.”

[nightshade-minho]

-Free Rent Part 1-

Stray Kids + fem!reader

Warnings: None in this part, except for shirtless Jisung I guess, and very slight suggestiveness. Eventual smut.

You wish you hadn’t agreed to this. What were you thinking? You could feel eight pairs of eyes on you, and you couldn’t help but feel utterly helpless under their gaze. You knew you had no reason to be afraid- everything had been discussed in detail and a safe word had been decided upon. However, you couldn’t stop your heart from thudding loudly, butterflies in your stomach.

It had all started a week ago, when your best friend Mina had told you about how ‘Chan and his gang of misfits’ were looking for a female roommate to live with them at their apartment. You were curious at first, prompting Mina to tell you more about this peculiar requirement.

“I don’t really know much about it y/n. All I know is that there’s a lot of candidates applying for the position already.”

You gasped. “Why? I mean...doesn’t this whole thing sound extremely sketch?”

“I mean, it’s clear what their intentions are, I suppose. But here’s the catch- you wouldn’t have to pay rent.”

You almost spat out your drink at that. No rent!? It sounded too far-fetched. From what you knew of the boys, they were quite well-off and lived in a huge, fancy apartment off campus. You, meanwhile, had been languishing in the dormitory with a despicable roommate- one who liked having her boyfriend over all the time, making the already tiny room feel cramped as fuck. She also had a penchant for leaving her dirty clothes all over the place- laundry was probably a foreign concept to her. You’d been wanting to move out since forever, and had already tried looking up some apartment listings since the dorms were full...however most of them were too expensive for you to afford.

As you bid farewell to Mina, making your way back to your dorm, there was this tiny part of your brain that was considering their weird proposal. It was clear what their intentions were...and you didn’t know how you felt about being a fucktoy for 8 people- it sounded demeaning and kind of scary, to be honest.

You finally reached your dorm, and was about to unlock the door when you heard moans coming from inside the room. Your head was boiling with anger, why did this always have to happen to you? You were extremely drowsy and just wanted to get to sleep already, but that was clearly going to be impossible.

Maybe...maybe you should check this new place situation out? Besides, you kind of knew Chan and Minho. The three of you had mutual friends and you’d been partnered up with Minho for a project once. They were genuinely cool, funny guys...and very attractive too.

You decided to go to their apartment, and if it was a really good one, you might consider it. Ugh...you couldn’t believe that you were even contemplating this right now.

And that’s how you ended up standing outside their apartment door at 8 in the evening, wringing your fingers nervously. You’d spoken with Chan on the phone earlier, and he’d recognized you almost immediately. He’d been very courteous and kind. You would think he was just a regular old landlord...if it weren’t for the end of the phone call.

“And...y/n? I hope you know what the payment consists of?”

“Oh? I thought it was free-“

He cleared his throat. “I mean...it doesn’t cost any money. We would prefer to be paid in another manner.”

“Ah. Um, yes...I’m aware.”

“Good. And remember, you can back out any time you want okay? If you’re completely okay with it, you can come.”

You suddenly regretted your choice of wearing a skirt today. Sighing, you silently gave yourself a pep talk. Breathing in deeply, you rung the doorbell.

“Coming!”

The door swung open, and you were met face to face with a shirtless blond haired dude, who stared at you wide-eyed.

“I’m sorry, but if you’re someone I fucked and never called back, I can’t go on a date with you. I apologize for-“

He was suddenly pushed to the side by Minho, who smiled at you warmly.

“Sorry about Jisung. You’re y/n, right? And you’re here for the apartment?”

“Mmhmm!”

He cocked his head to the side. “Didn’t we work on a project together last year?”

You nodded, trying to smile but ultimately failing. Your nerves were all over the place, and you were focusing on not running away right then and there.

There was an awkward silence as the two men stared at you and you stared back. You could see that they were analyzing you subtly, and your heartbeat grew faster.

Jisung yawned. “So...is she gonna come in or...?”

Minho silenced him with a sharp look, and then softened as his gaze turned back to you. “Would you like to come in, y/n?”

You paused, nodding again.

Suddenly, a slightly dark look flashed in Minho’s eyes.

“Use your words, sweetheart. You’ll find it a necessity if you want to live here.”

You gulped. “Uh. Okay. Is Ch-chan here?”

Minho nodded. “He’s in the shower right now. But I’ll show you around the house for now!” He beckoned you in, and you followed him as he walked into the apartment. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head as you looked around. The hallway was fairly short, but then as you walked further in, you softly gasped as your eyes took in the huge living room. There was the biggest TV you’d ever seen, and right in front of it was a sofa that was so wide it looked more like a bed.

Seated on the sofa were two guys that you recognized from previous classes that you’ve had. Both of them noticed you, however one of them spared you nothing more than a glance, immediately looking back at the television. The other quirked a brow in interest, and made his way over to you and Minho. If you were right, his name was Hyunjin. He was very handsome, you noted.

“Minho, you never told me you went and got yourself a girlfriend!

Minho cleared his throat. “Hyunjin, she’s here for the house.”

Hyunjin’s eyebrows shot up, and a smirk grew on his face.

“Great. Cause I was thinking, it isn’t fair that you get such a pretty girl all to yourself.”

Your face grew red. Hyunjin smiled at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along.

“So, this place has 5 bedrooms. Two master bedrooms, and the rest are normal. The master bedrooms are occupied by Minho and Chan, because ‘they’re the oldest’ or some shit.”

Minho groaned. “That’s not the reason, y/n, it’s because we started living here first, and the others came here later. Also, I’m willing to move in with Chan so you can have a bedroom all to yourself, so it’s not gonna be a problem.”

You meekly nodded. Minho raised an eyebrow, and you remember his statement from earlier with a blush.

“I’m not completely sure I want to move in yet, though.”

A disappointed look crossed both faces, and you quickly stated “Um, I said yet.”

They quickly regained their smiles, and you wanted to chuckle to yourself. The two of them were kinda cute.

“Alright so three of the rooms are downstairs. The two master bedrooms are upstairs, so if you were to move in, you’d be living there.” Minho resumed.

Hyunjin cut in, “There’s also a bathroom downstairs, and an open kitchen, as you can see.” Minho looked at him with an annoyed expression and you almost giggled.

“Chan!”

You turned around to see Chan himself descending the stairs with a smile on his face.

“Hey guys! And hello, y/n! Sorry I couldn’t be here earlier, I was in the shower.”

His hair was wet, and his white shirt was insistently sticking to his pecs. You felt slightly flustered.

“So, would you like to see the upstairs? I’ll take it from here, thanks Minho.”

He beckoned you to follow him. Chan showed you the second floor of the apartment, which was every bit as amazing as the bottom floor. You were trying to resist it, but you couldn’t. Your brain was rapidly falling in love with this house.”

As you made your way back downstairs, you saw four of the boys from before- Hyunjin, Minho, Jisung and...Seungmin? Yes, that was his name. Along with those four, there were two more who were in the kitchen, whose names you didn’t know very well. You knew one of them was from Australia, just like Chan, but not much else. The other’s name was...Changmin or something.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, Chan spoke up. “So...are you interested in this place?”

You were extremely conflicted. You were no virgin, but you still felt this situation was entirely unorthodox and your mom back home would probably murder you in shame. However none of these boys seemed like bad people, and you were already familiar with a few of them. Your logic was telling you to get out of there and forget you ever came, but then there was this very very tiny part of you that not only wanted the house, but the sex too. Even though you’ve had sex a few times, you were often called a prude, and you weren’t very popular. And...these boys were the kings of the college. Being their friend would be an automatic ticket to ruling campus.

Your brain told you you were being an idiot and not thinking this through, but it was too late.

“Yes.” You blurted, and Chan’s grin grew wider.

Fuck, what had you done?

•••

(There will be smut in Part 2...which will probably be out by tomorrow. Happy SKZ anniversary!)