#i can’t decide with who but i may NEED to write this

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #54 - Too Jealous]

“When you are way too jealous because of another woman.”

Genre: married life!AU, slight Angst, Smut

Warnings: jealousy, husband stealing women trying to get with Kook, while he is the most loyal puppy husband ever, insecurities, a fight because of her jealousy, but they make up <3, please he is so cute i couldn't be mad at him, subbiest!Jungkook, Domme!Reader, he wears bondage gear, and used eyeliner to write her name on his body, chastity cage, marking through hickeys & biting, subby boy tears, omfg he is such a cutie crybaby <3, nipple play & sucking, wearing of a buttplug, have i mentioned that he cries a lot? <3, very passionate sex in cowgirl position, where he is tied to the bed and whines and cries and is subbyyyy, he breaks the bed but stays put cause he is a good boy, choking, dirty talk, possessive talk, creampie, use of a vibrator, one quick face sitting for her please, he loves eating her out <3, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), forced orgasm through overstimulation with the vibrator, where she makes him cum so hard that he squirts <3, gentle aftercare, they're deeply in love and this is actually softer than the warnings may make it seem, bruh i need to recover from this

Wordcount: 7.8k

a/n: listen. it would be unrealistic to create ogc!koo and not have women want him left and right. of course our queen OC feels threatened sometimes (she doesn't have to, he is her loyal puppy fr) and i NEEDED to write this like i fucking NEEDED this on my blog i just *sigh* i love subby crybaby!koo so much :( ALSO! i decided to include anonie's dream from some time ago heheh 🧡

Jungkook is without a doubt the most attractive, most handsome, sexiest and hottest man ever. This is not an exaggeration but the truth. He is drop-dead, insanely gorgeous. He has the perfect body and knows what clothes to wear to really show it off. His tattoos are so well done and perfectly fit his body. His face is quite frankly to die for, his hair is always perfect and to make it even worse, he always smells so good. Because he is Jungkook, it also means that the perfection doesn’t stop at his looks. He is perfect inside as well. His heart is kind and gentle, he cares, he is funny, he is witty and he actually respects women. He is also way too talented and overall a good person. And he never ever brags about being basically perfect (which he is) because he is humble above all.

In short, Jeon Jungkook is the most attractive, perfect man ever. And because he is, it means that you, as his wife, have way too much competition. Not that Jungkook actually sees any of this competition because his love-drunk puppy eyes have solely been fixed on you for years and they plan on staying this way. Yes, he is bloody loyal too. What a perfect fucking man he is. He is loyal and therefore blind to the competition, but you are aware of the competition. You can distinguish between a naturally friendly woman and a woman who is only that way because she wants to get with him. And Jungkook gets a lot of these women as his customers. You can’t blame them for swooning over him – whenever he tattoos you, you can’t stop staring either – but there are the kinds of women who still want to try to seduce him even after finding out that he is married. And because Jungkook doesn’t actually care for their attention, he is also not really aware that they keep coming back for more tattoos just so they could be touched by him or stare at him. Most of these women finally give up when they actually see you, but there is this one specific woman who seems hellbent on stealing Jungkook from you and she is currently at his studio again.

“___?” 

You turn your head to the left at the sound of your employee’s voice.

“Yes, Katy?” 

“Are you alright? You’ve been staring at Jungkook’s studio for fifteen minutes now.”

“I have?”

Katy nods her head, “did you guys have a fight?”

“No, but she is back.”

“Ooooh”, Katy realises, “Ariana?”

“Yeah…her”, you grumble, tensing your jaw.

“Again? Didn’t he literally talk about your wedding last time?”

“He did.”

“And didn’t he say that she had a boyfriend too?”

“He did.” You squint your eyes. “Stupid bitch, I bet she is currently looking at his tits and arms. God.” You stomp your foot like a stubborn child. “Why does he have to have such massive tits and arms?” you whine to which Katy laughs.

“You’re literally so jealous, it’s insane.”

“Yeah I am. He is so gorgeous and some women just don’t get that he is mine.” 

Katy pats your shoulder in soothing. 

“There, there. I bet he is not even giving her a first thought or a second or a third.”

“I hope he isn’t. Otherwise, divorce.”

Katy belts a laugh.

“You’re being so dramatic. Jungkook would already start crying if he so much as thought about the hypothetical of cheating on you.”

“I guess.” You send the studio one last glare then sadly have to leave your brooding position to tend to some customer with Katy. 

A little over an hour passes like this, then the restaurant calms down again and you glare. 

Katy, who notices, pats your shoulder again.

“Still not over it?”

“She hasn’t left yet.”

“Maybe it’s a bigger tattoo?”

“She never gets big tattoos because it means that she can come back as often as possible.”

“Wow okay, very scheming indeed.”

“Yes, very. I bet she is one of those women who get off on stealing taken men. You know what? I’m going over there.”

“For what reason?”

“I don’t know. Bringing coffee”, you say and grab one of the coffee jugs and two mugs. “I��ll be back soon.”

“Good luck, queen”, Katy calls after you, smiling fondly. It’s kind of cute how jealous you can be when there is truly nothing to worry about.

You see them from outside. They are in the front of the shop, hugging. Jungkook doesn’t touch her, keeping at least five inches of distance between his arms and her body while she is slung around him with her face in his neck as if she wanted to literally crawl into him. Judging by his widened eyes, he was not expecting this hug.

It you didn’t carry a jug full of hot coffee, you would have literally kicked the door in.

But instead you open it with a happy “yuhu” on your lips, following it up with a “I bring coffee, my darling.” 

“Oh, sweetie”, Jungkook says, stepping back to escape the hug.

The wannabe home wrecker lets go of Your husband and takes a step back, studying you from head to toe judgingly. You place the coffee pot on the counter and hug Jungkook. He hugs you back instantly, rubbing the small of your back and kissing the side of your neck gently.

“Hey.”

“Hey there, my hubby”, you say and place multiple kisses on his neck and jawline. Then you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull his face down into a deep, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss which lasts way too long and is way too intimate. You end the entire show with a squeeze of his butt and a goofy grin.

“I missed you today, my hubby bubby sweetie. I kept thinking about the amazing head you gave me this morning and how you kept telling me that you’ll always be mine.”

Jungkook is gawking at you with his mouth wide open. What you said wasn’t a lie because he actually did do that, but you are normally not exposing stuff like this to the public. Or kissing him like this as a matter of fact.

You cuddle into him, hugging his arm and shifting your eyes to the glaring woman in front of you.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t even see you there. Who are you?” You look at Jungkook. “Shoot, did I just expose us to one of your customers, darling? I’m sorry.”

“It’s uh…” Jungkook’s cheeks are bright red. “Forgive me Miss Grand, this is my wife- eek.” He squeaks and tenses up when you grab his butt unapologetically. “Sorry uhm, thanks for uhm coming for the tattoo today. Uhm, don’t forget to do proper aftercare on it and to use the cream I recommended you.”

The home wrecker is flabbergasted for a moment, but then catches herself quickly. She actually tries to shoot her shot in front of you. She steps closer with the plan of hugging him again. 

You are in front of him instantly, staring her down like a lioness one second away from ripping apart her prey.

“You think I’m being funny?” You hiss. “I’ve been friendly with you up until now. Understood?”

Jungkook stays quiet for his own sake, but holds your hand and gawks at you with widened eyes. This is the first time he sees you like this. 

The home wrecker finally gets the message and scrunches her nose.

“I’ll see you soon again, Jungkookie”, she coos and leaves with a flick of her hair. 

The door slams closed. You stay glaring for a few more seconds then turn around. Jungkook blinks his eyes at you in confusion.

“You can’t stop thinking about the head I gave you this morning? Really?” he asks, cocking his brow up in question.

“Whatever. I was trying to say the most possessive thing ever”, you grumble, making your way to the coffee pot.

“Possessive?” Jungkook follows you with his eyes. He suddenly gasps. “Wait! Are you jealous?”

“What? No? I was trying to send a message.”

“Send a message about what?”

“That you’re married.”

“I think she knows. I talk about you constantly.”

You can’t help but smile. He is actually so sweet.

“I don’t think she cared. Now she actually knows that I exist and that I’ll fight. She’ll think twice about hitting on you again.”

“Aw baby, you are jealous.”

“Yes I am. You don’t get it. You’re so perfect and handsome and you sometimes don’t see how other women look at you, but I do. I see all of it”, you hiss at him, sending him such a deathly glare that Jungkook is actually taken aback for a moment.

“No baby, don’t even worry about them. I don’t care about how they look at me, I just wanna look at you”, he says, touching your hips. He flutters his lashes at you, smiling extremely cutely. 

“Then refuse service to Miss Grand.”

“What?”

“You heard me. She is trying to steal you from me.”

Jungkook scoffs, “let her try, I don’t care about her.”

“No, you don’t get it, I-”

A customer interrupts you and him. 

“Oh? Sorry for the disturbance, I didn’t know that you had another customer”, he says, looking sorry.

Jungkook studies your face with guilty eyes for one more second then sadly has to look away. He forces a customer service smile to his face.

“Don’t worry Duke, you’re on time. That’s my wonderful wife ___, she is running the restaurant over there and brought us coffee for our session”, he says, placing his arms over your shoulder to kiss your temple. But you only let him do so halfway then shake yourself free.

“Sorry, works calling again. Hungry people don’t like to wait”, you say. “Good luck with the tattoo.”

You leave the studio and with it a conversation which was definitely not over yet. Jungkook looks after you with sad, guilty eyes until you disappear in the restaurant.

Jungkook leaves the studio at seven like he always does. One more hour and he will drive home with you. He crosses the street and enters the restaurant like he always does. He promised you to stay with you during closing hour to keep you safe from creeps who don’t want to leave. And Jungkook always keeps his promises to you. Especially his marriage promises. He looks for you with a nervously racing heart, but can only find Katy and Joe.

“Are you looking for ___?” Joe asks.

“Yeah, I’m picking her up to drive home together”, he answers him. 

“Damn sorry man, you missed her by about ten minutes.”

“She already went home?”

Joe nods his head.

“Did she say why?”

“Just that she was feeling a little tired tonight.”

Katy joins Joe’s side, staying way too close. You regularly give Jungkook updates about these two. They try to be sneaky about it, but you already figured out that they are secretly dating. Jungkook is always very excited when you give him updates about them during late night cuddles in bed. He feels so sad at the thought right now because he knows that he managed to hurt you today and now there won’t be any updates or cuddles.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know?” Katy says.

Jungkook nods his head, “I hope. I, uhm, Imma go now. Check up on her, you know?”

“Yes, do that.”

“Take care, you two.”

“You too.”

Jungkook drives home with a deep pit of guilt in his stomach. He doesn’t drive straight home, but takes a little detour to a florist to get a huge bouquet of flowers. 

He cradles it like a baby for the rest of the drive home. 

Thankfully, your bike is in the garage and your gear is stored in the closet. Jungkook makes sure that the garage door is closed and then hurries inside. 

Like every night, Bam greets him happily, but Jungkook can only give him attention half-heartedly. He needs to talk to you. 

“Babygirl, I’m home!” 

You don’t answer him. Jungkook discards his keys and swerves past a confused Bam. He checks the kitchen and the living room, both of which are empty. 

“Sweetie, your hubby is back!”

No answer.

He checks the bathroom and the bedroom, then his room. Lastly, he checks your room. 

Bingo.  

You are on your mattress with the television running. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere”, he says, hurrying to you. 

He falls to his knees and presents the flowers.

“I’m sorry for today”, he says, bowing his head. 

You glance at him, then the flowers. He got your favourites in your favourite colour and arranged in a heart. You sigh in defeat and turn off the television.

Jungkook lifts his head at the sound, meeting your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid and dumb and a buffoon”, he says apologetically.

You scoff, stifling a smile. He notices it and closes in on you instantly. He tries to kiss your cheek, but you move back.

He sits back on his feet, pouting at you.

“I’m really sorry”, he says.

“I know, I guess you don’t have to be. It’s not like you’re actually entertaining her antics.”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“Never ever. I couldn’t care less about her, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell her to look for another tattoo artist.”

“No, it’s okay. I was unreasonable.”

“Well, do you want me to or are you just saying so?”

You hesitate but then shake your head, “it’s okay.” 

Jungkook exhales in defeat. He scoots closer, holding your hand.

“___ baby, I love you and I only want you.”

“I know, thank you for the reassurance and the, uhm, flowers. They’re so cute.”

“Right? I told the florist to make a heart as big as my love for you, but she ran out of flowers before she could match its size.”

He makes you smile. Jungkook hooks onto it, finally leaning in to smooch your cheek. You still pull away however.

“I’m sorry. I need to be alone right now. Is that okay for you?”

“I mean, I’ll definitely feel really guilty the entire time, but I guess if you really need it”, Jungkook says with insecurity in his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll make dinner in the meantime, yeah?”

“I brought stuff from the restaurant. I already ate, sorry.”

“Oh, uhm, okay.” Jungkook hesitates, pulling back in insecurity. “Do you still love me?” he asks with sad puppy eyes 

“I still love you, I promise.”

“I love you too. So much, as big as the flower heart. Even bigger.”

You accept the flowers and give him a smile.

“Thank you, Kook.”

He lingers, waiting – hoping – for you to make a move. You linger, waiting for your feelings to make sense to you. You don’t know if you are angry at him. He wouldn’t deserve it because he did nothing wrong and yet it feels as everything is his fault. If he wasn’t that perfect, that handsome and sweet, other women wouldn’t want to rip him from you all the time. Why does he have to be the way he is? You glare at him. Jungkook looks away instantly, shrinking in obvious helplessness.

“Okay then, I’ll be going now.” He says and looks at you hopefully. Maybe you want to say something now. But you only nod your head.

He stands up with a heavy heart, “you’re gonna miss out on couch snuggles, just saying”, he tries, but doesn’t get far. 

He ends up alone for the rest of the evening while you lock yourself away in your room. 

Jungkook tries to distract himself with a show and by taking Bam on a beach walk, but his mind keeps racing with memories of today. If only he did and or said the right thing. It feels like he fucked up everything. You have never been like this before, you never threatened other women or refused his apologies. It feels like the end and it makes Jungkook feel like shit.

When he comes back from his walk with Bam, your door is still closed. Nothing changed. Is this really it for you and him?

Jungkook runs away to the shed in hopes of finding distraction in a workout. Otherwise he would cry on the couch. He is in the middle of punching the punching bag as if it owed him money when he gets is a text message from you. He throws the gloves away and stops the music. He opens them instantly, eventhough he normally always forgets to check his messages. His heart is pounding in his chest to the point he has to sit down from dizziness.

-          Wifey ♡: Today was too much. She called you Jungkookie and hugged you…

-          Jungkook: I know! 😡 So weird!!! 🤢 it happened really fast, I didn’t wanna hug her and she never called me this way before. It’s so icky 🤢

-          Wifey ♡: She’s a bitch… I notice how women look at you and it makes me feel insecure. You’re so attractive and everything about you is so female gaze coded and so many of your customers are trying to take what’s not theirs.

-          Jungkook: I’m so sorry that you feel this way…What do you need right now to feel better again?

-          Wifey ♡: I don’t know. Maybe more effort from you? I’m so unfair to you, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do anything wrong, but I still can’t be close to you right now. I’m sorry, I don’t know either why that is…

-          Jungkook: I understand, sweetie. Don’t apologise. I’ll give you your space. My offer for couch snuggles still stands whenever you’re ready.

-          Wifey ♡: I know. Thank you. I love you

-          Jungkook: I love you too, my egg :D

-          Wifey ♡: 🙄

-          Jungkook: 😝😂

You don’t text him anything else anymore, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You gave him a task. More effort. Jungkook will think of the best, most devoted plan ever and literally sweep you off your feet with it. Jungkook spends the rest of his nightly boxing session distracted with making up plans. Once his idea finally comes to him, he abandons the gym instantly, hurrying to get everything ready before you leave your room.

You are a little scared of facing Jungkook again. You sulked for too long. Now it is already midnight and he needed to go to bed alone. You know that he won’t be able to sleep and you are scared of the tired, sleepy begs he will give you. But you couldn’t help yourself. You felt so insecure today and looking at his perfect face taunted you. 

With a heavy, fearful heart, you open the bedroom. You come to a halt, barely managing to close to door and then your mouth falls open. 

Jungkook is kneeling on the floor by the foot end of the bed. He is wearing a black leather collar on which a thick silver chain is attached. Said chain connects to a pair of matching leather handcuffs. Another set of chains connects these with ankle cuffs. He has his head lowered and is completely naked. The only thing keeping his dick modest is a chastity cage. 

The view is doing wonders. But what truly seals the deal are the markings he put on his own body. With the help of his black eyeliner, he wrote your name on different spots on his body. Under his nipples, all over his neck, right above his caged cock, along his arms, all over his thighs and his stomach.

“What’s that?” you gasp. 

Jungkook lifts his head. He also marked his face for you.

“I’m sorry for being a bad devotee, my queen wife. I didn’t manage to show you the proper amount of devotion. My flesh and soul are yours to break tonight.”

You gulp. Just now, your eyes managed to brush over the array of sextoys he laid out on bed behind him. Impact play toys, cock toys, anal toys, nipple toys. He is giving you full and sole authority over his body right now and how it is supposed to experience pleasure. 

Jungkook bows until his forehead rests against the wooden floor. The chains jingle as he moves.

“Please allow me to show you my devotion, my queen wife. I promise to take whatever you deem fit.” 

The sight, his actions, the indications are all indecently sexy and hot but you still melt in fondness. First the flower heart and now this. You never doubted his love for you, but you doubted your own ability to keep him with you. This right here feels so good to experience. 

You close the distance. 

“Look at me.”

Jungkook lifts his head, gazing up at you like a believer seeing his beloved goddess. You take his chin between your fingers. He sighs, leaning into the touch. 

“Those are some pretty letters you put on there.”

“They are the only letters which matter to me because they spell your name, my queen wife.”

“Oh my god”, you let out. “God Kookie…” You kneel down in front of him and kiss him.

Jungkook moans like a sinner finding resolution, tilting his head to deepen the kiss while his cuffed hands stay on his thighs, balling to fists.

“God fuck, Kook”, you get out, breaking the kiss.

Jungkook sighs, chasing you with half-lidded eyes. But another kiss doesn’t come. You move back, cradling his cheeks. Your eyes are a little glassy.

“I’m sorry for how I acted tonight”, you say.

He shakes his head, “don’t talk about this right now, my love. Just take it out on me.”

You smile without showing teeth, sniffling a little. Jungkook leans into your touch, gazing at you.

“If that’s what you want. If the idea is stupid, we can just cuddle and talk instead.”

“No. No cuddles. This idea is perfect”, you say, squishing his cheeks to the point where his lips stick out.

“Okay”, he mumbles with pouted lips, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Good.” You let go of his face. Ghosting your fingertips down his torso.

Jungkook chases your touch with shivers and sighs, gazing at you.

“Look at you. All of that is mine.”

“Everything. All of it”, Jungkook agrees, shivering especially deep when you feel up his thighs. He is so sensitive there.

“You know that you’re perfect? That you’re literally the most attractive man ever?”

“I am?”

“Mhm and it makes me furious sometimes ‘cause I have to fight stupid leeches left and right.”

“The only leech I want sucking my blood is you.”

You laugh. He laughs as well.

“So I’m a leech now?”

“Yeah, but you’re my leech. Just like you’re my egg.”

You push at him gently, “shut up, you’re the egg here.”

He grins cutely, cheek sticking out from it. You squish it and give it a kiss. Jungkook leans into it, wiggling his wrists and making the chains jingle. 

You drop your hands to them, following them until you can intertwine your fingers with him. He squeezes you eagerly, gazing at you.

So now you are kneeling on the floor, facing each other while the bad day is left outside the door.

“We’re gonna be so tired tomorrow”, you say.

“Yeah, it’s worth it. I could spend forever in your arms.”

“Oh Kook”, you lower your head and sniffle. 

“What’s the matter? Talk to me, my love”, he asks you in a caring voice.

“I just feel bad because I pushed you away.” 

“Don’t. I get it. Jealousy can make one act really out of character.” 

“Yeah”, you agree and lift his hands to kiss his knuckles. The chains jingle and he gasps softly. You linger on his wedding band for especially long, memorising the way it sits around his finger eternally and like it was meant to be there. 

“Wanna make up for it”, you say.

“You don’t have to”, he assures you, despite secretly soaking up the affection and wishing for it to last forever.

“No. I do. I really do”, you say and kiss each of his fingers, “mine.”

“Yours. Forever.”

You guide his constricted arms behind your head next so he is holding you. Like this, you close the distance, releasing a sigh of relief the second you melt against his chest. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook closes his eyes, hugging you back as best as his constricted state allows.

“This isn’t right”, you murmur and fumble with the chains. They fall from the ring of the choker, next the choker itself falls off and your face can finally touch his neck. 

You inhale and exhale, “yes. This.” 

Jungkook quite frankly has to fight tears. He expected you to be a little mean to him, but not this. You are so tender and the hug feels so healing. Jungkook has a hard time not sobbing into your shoulder miserably. 

It becomes almost impossible when you begin kissing his neck and quite frankly becomes impossible once you leave your first hickey.

The sensation soaks so deep into his fibers. It feels so good tonight.

“Oh god”, he gets out, rolling his head back and whimpering your name.

You claim his newly exposed neck gladly, starting your heart-fixing task of marking him. Some kisses here and some hickeys there. Jungkook gasps and whimpers with each of them, while you feel more and more reconnected with him.

Your hands touch him everywhere. His arms, his waist, his shoulders and back. But the most favourite spot is when you suck a hickey on his skin and you get to cradle the other side of his neck. It feels so deeply possessive yet gentle.

Jungkook finally breaks when you draw a little heart on his skin. 

“Oh god”, he chokes out and hiccups a few sad sniffles. His constricted hands fall to his face, covering his eyes as best as possible.

You lift your head, looking at him worriedly. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Sorry, today was a lot”, he gets out, trying to mask his sob with a cough. 

“Hey, Googie”, you gasp, pulling his hands away to check on him, “talk to me.”

“I would never cheat on you. I-I’m so angry at myself because I made you feel like I would.” 

“Fuck, no you didn’t. Fuck Googie, come here.” 

You hug him, Jungkook hugs you back as best as possible. He sniffles into your shoulder, but doesn’t need to spill new tears.

“I know you wouldn’t cheat, please don’t be angry at yourself.”

“So you know that I’m loyal?” he mumbles with a pout.

“I do”, you assure him, scratching him behind his ear soothingly.

“Thank god”, Jungkook sighs, melting into you.

“You know, Katy said that you would literally cry if you as much as thought about cheating on me and it seems that she was right.”

“I could never cheat”, he shakes his head, “I love you so much.” 

“I know, Googie I know. I love you too. God, let’s just…let’s get on bed, where it’s more comfortable.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You swipe the toys to the side and push Jungkook onto his back. He lets you gladly, writhing with his eyes halfway closed and his cheeks flushed.

You open the ankle cuffs and chain, taking them off. The new freedom is taken by Jungkook instantly. He uses it to dig his heels into the mattress and open his legs.

Everything about his movements lets you know that he is riding it too. This wave of deep connection. It is as if your souls and energies are forming one synergy. You heal and in the process heal him. He heals and in the process heals you. This right now is one moment of utter connection.

You take off your pyjamas and sit down next to his hips. You cup his cheek, calling his attention. 

Jungkook looks at you and whimpers. His poor constrained cock wants to twitch but can’t. It hurts, forcing a pained whimper out of him and a tortured squirm of his hips to run through him. 

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, reaching for you with constricted hands. 

“Thank you. You’re beautiful too”, you say and close the distance. You roll on top of him and let him put his arms around you. You rest above his caged cock, head sinking into the pillow next to him and lips brushing his neck. 

Like this, you enjoy each other how nature intended it. Naked skin against naked skin, hearts beating in sync and body warmths becoming one. 

“This is heaven”, he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against you.

“Yeah, it is”, you agree, getting lost in his scent.

The clock shows thirty past midnight by now. You and he are both so sleepy already, exhausted from a bad day and so ready for sleep. Neither of you want to fall asleep however, forcing your bodies to keep moving. 

You keep you and him awake by beginning a journey to his cock. You suck hickeys all over his chest and stomach next to the letters he wrote, making Jungkook feel so fucking good that he has to twist the pillow once you reach his cock.

You shove his legs apart gently and do what drives Jungkook crazy. You leave hickeys on his inner thighs, which feels nice but which feels miniscule once you begin leaving bite marks instead. Jungkook whines so agonised that it borders cute little sobs. It feels so good but he can’t enjoy it freely.

The cage hurts. It is made of metal and digs into his erection painfully. It hurts so much. 

You aren’t making it better by licking him over the cage. Warmth and wetness, the little spots which are bulging out between the cage elements get a feel of your soft tongue as well. 

Jungkook begs. Of course he begs. Jungkook is such a natural at begging.

“Please. Hurts. Please, no more.” 

“Keys?” the word tickles him, increasing his agony. 

Jungkook mewls and lifts his hips. Your eyes flit to his hole. Stuffed with a purple plug. 

“Are you serious?” you gasp.

“Yeah. Please.”

“Shit, this is so hot”, you rasp and tug out the toy. 

His sweet hole gives it up groggily, pulsing in emptiness afterwards. He mewls, curling his toes in desperation. You can only take it in halfway, busy with opening the special plug. It is hollow inside and big enough to store a vibrator. On normal nights this is what fills the toy but tonight, Jungkook stuffed the chastity cage keys into it. You can barely fetch them or use them to unlock his cage because your fingers are shaking so much.

To think that he stored his means of freedom inside himself so you can decide when to give it to him. He is so hot and you want him so bad. 

When the cage finally unlocks, you work quickly to get it off of him, throwing it to the side once you did. 

Jungkook sobs, rolling his hips up. His poor cock finally springs into its natural position, it is purple and bruised at first but flushes more and more the longer he is free. You soothe it by rubbing him with two hands.

Jungkook moans your name, arching off the sheets. His tip flushes, leaking uncontrollably. It feels hot between your fingers as you massage it from both sides.

Your name leaves him again, as a mewled stutter this time around. He has to repeat each of your vowels twice before he finally manages to get it out. He must be so sensitive right now.

“I could fucking pass out right now. I need you so bad”, you say, rubbing your pussy on his thigh unapologetically. The friction is all that keeps you sane. The knowledge that you smear yourself all over his skin is doing the rest.

“Fuck me. Please”, he begs, throbbing and pulsing in your hands. He is leaking so much, unable to stop.

“I will. I fucking will”, you say and climb off his lap. 

Jungkook doesn’t get it, whimpering your name.

“Please.”

“I will, just…need to do this”, you say and take his wrists to guide them above his head. You pick up the chain and shuffle up his body so you can fix the chain on the headboard. You installed your very own hidden hooks for it. They come in handy as you fix him into place. 

Speaking of places, you accidentally picked out the sexiest place to tie him down. Right above his face and you aren’t even noticing it. 

Jungkook makes sure that you notice by lifting his head and connecting his mouth with your pussy.

“Woah”, you gasp, dropping the chain to grip the headboard. You catch yourself at the last moment from sitting down on his face, but you can’t stop the trembles coursing through your legs. 

Jungkook mewls, flicking and swirling his tongue eagerly. You taste so good tonight. You always do, but tonight it hits different. It brings him back to a better reality. A reality where he gets to love you without insecurities nagging at you. A reality where he is your husband and you know what this means. And a reality where his tongue still manages to make you arch your back and moan his name as you clench around nothing.

In this perfect reality this would have continued until he made you climax, but you deny him. You lift yourself and pick up the chains again, securing them on the hooks as quickly as possible just so you can shimmy down again. 

Jungkook feels empty until you give him something else by kissing him deeply. His instincts tell him to sling his arms around you, but the chains hold him back.

He whimpers, destined to kiss you without hugging you while you slowly touch him. The agony becomes especially unbearable when you finally sink him into your warmth. 

He rips his eyes open, moaning into your mouth but it sounds more like gurgled whimpers. You break the kiss, looking at him for those last few inches. 

“Can you feel this?”

“Yeah, it feels so good”, he gets out, spilling tears. He is such a crybaby when you get him subby enough.

“Mhm, it does. Means we’re one. Right?”

“One. We’re one. ___ baby, I love you”, he gets out and sobs in sync with you bottoming out and picking up a rhythm. 

He tugs on the chains again, voice turning from a sob to a moan and head rolling to the side. He squeezes his eyes shut, opening his mouth and furrowing his brows. The hickeys look so pretty on his neck and tears fit his face so well. 

Your heart pounds and dances as you ride him because you are so happy and in love. Jungkook is the perfect man and he is yours. You don’t know what wondrous deeds you did in your previous life to deserve so much luck, but you are eternally grateful. 

“Mine. You’re mine”, you chant, closing your fingers around his throat to cut off his blood flow. 

Jungkook fights the chains, wanting to grasp your arms and force you closer to his neck. He can’t. He has to fight the chains and take the very passionate ride.

“Yours. Yours. Yours”, he keeps chanting, filling the silence up with moans and little sobs as you drive him to the brink of madness.

“Mine, yeah. Fuck, I need more”, you say and sit down on him. You slide your hands from his neck and look behind yourself.  

Jungkook watches you, filling your pussy with his precum as his cock can’t seem to stop throbbing. It hurts to only be warmed. He wants you to bounce on him again. It feels so good when you do because you are so tight and warm and his cock gets jerked off so heavenly. Please he wants you to move and to choke him and to move and, and, and. This is all he needs. Great sex and intense pleasure. 

“There.”

You make his agony unbearable by climbing off him so you could get the toy you spotted.

“Please”, he begs in a shaky whisper, staring at your exposed pussy and ass longingly. You are glistening and look just a little stretched open from his cock. You are also so puffy and look so, so soft. 

He wiggles the chains, whispering your name, “please, it hurts.”

Luckily for him, you return quickly and sink him back inside even quicker.

Jungkook moans, swelling inside you happily. His eyes roll back and close, his back arches.

“You’re too needy”, you tease.

“I love you”, he argues and you have nothing to say to that. 

He is so sweet, making you smile and pick up a rhythm again.

“I love you too, you egg”, you say, rubbing his tummy as you ride his perfect cock to pure ecstasy. The black eyeliner has smeared by now, sitting on his skin messy and unintelligible. It also spread to your skin, deepening the eternal connection you and he have. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous”, you moan, slamming down on him especially hard.

Jungkook mewls, tugging on the chains and curling his toes. His submission drips from each of his blissed moans. How flushed his face is, how messy his hair sticks to it.

The knowledge that you are the only fucking person who gets to see him like this makes you feel so good. The thought that you are also the only person who he allows to be close in such sinful ways does the rest. 

His cock never felt better inside you, giving you pleasure so deep that you feel like floating. And you want more, shifting the toy you got into place.

His eyes are closed so the low hum of the vibrator turning on comes as a surprise to him. Just as the sensations do. The friction of your tightening walls hit him first, the subtle vibrations tickle him next.

Jungkook screams and tugs especially roughly. A dangerous crack follows and suddenly the chains fall from the headboard together with the hook. 

“Did you?” you slow down, staring in shock. He broke the bed.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t stop, please I’ll stay put! Please don’t stop!” he begs, keeping his hands above his head.

“Holy fuck, you’re so damn sexy tonight”, you growl and pick up the rhythm again. You press the vibrator closer to your clit, resting your empty hand on his thigh so you can ride him like there was no tomorrow. 

Skin slaps against skin, wet squelching and slurping joins it and the bed keeps creaking. Jungkook’s endless moans and helpless gasps for air almost overshadow the other sounds.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”, he keeps chanting, looking so pretty as he takes the ride.

It is almost one in the morning. You and he are delirious in sleepiness, heads dizzy and drugged up from sex. This is so intense that it is soaking into the deepest parts of your souls.

“Fuck. Your moans”, you get out, hips stuttering.

Moving becomes difficult. Not only are you exhausted, but you are also insanely close to an orgasm. He drives you insane with his noises.

You drop to the front, slamming your hand down on his constricted wrists and burying his face in your tits.

“Gotta shut you up for a moment, otherwise I’ll pass out”, you say.

Jungkook sobs, sucking on your nipples respectively. He drools, he slurps, he cries. Your nipples have never felt more appreciated than they do right now and it is going to make you climax.

“Shit, this is…urgh Kook. Now”, your warning is useless because it still surprises him. 

He muffles his yelp in your chest, fighting your hand because he wants to hug you. You won’t let him yet, needing the support to ride out your high. You moan his name and become a new person.

“Jesus fuck, woah Kook. Ah Kook, holy fuck. Googie baby…”

And Jungkook sobs, head dizzy and air sparse. He is so close. Your orgasmic convulses feel so good around his cock. The vibrations are so intense.

You are tighter after your high, wetter and hotter too. Jungkook is almost at the peak of what he can take. He thinks that he can’t take much more. And then you straighten up. You slide your hand to his nipples to play with them and Jungkook genuinely sobs like the subby crybaby he currently feels like. You stick the vibrator between his legs so it stimulates his rim and parts of his balls. 

Jungkook was right. He can’t take much more.

“Please stop! I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, show me who gets you so high”, you allow him, rubbing the vibrator on his sensitive hole and pinching his nipple.

Jungkook wails, kicking the mattress and arching his back.

“___!”

He almost throws you off from how aggressively he bucks his hips up, but you are used to his wild side. You know how to ride the little beast that is your husband when pleasure really controls him. You slam your hips down, rendering him useless as you intensify his orgasm tenfold. 

Jungkook cries real tears once it stops. He begs and begs and begs. 

“Please no more. Please, it hurts. Please, sensitive. Please stop.”

And you listen. Well, in your own sadistic ways. You slip off his cock but give him no break. You press the vibrator against his frenulum and squeeze down on his lower stomach.

“Please, hurts. Please, oh god please”, he sobs and coughs, writhing and kicking helplessly as you overstimulate him. You are hovering above his shaky legs, leaking the thick creampie he stored inside you. What a shame that you are leaking, but it is for the greater good. Like this, you can torture him and overstimulate him until he gives you what you crave.

And because it is Jungkook and tonight left him so fucking ruined, it doesn’t take him long to reach it. Another orgasm. So much more intense and slightly painful it hits him. The pressure you have on his bladder decides his fate. He squirts what he held inside, ruining his tensed stomach and the sheets. 

He keeps begging the entire time to please make it stop, to please know that he is sorry, to please be gentler. But he doesn’t get it as he orgasms, of course he doesn’t. You want him dry and empty with the knowledge that he will only find pleasure like this with you burned into his mind. This is your way of making sure he is corrupted and loyal to you like a starved man wanting more food.

“Please I’m dizzy, please” he begs, crying miserably. What a cute crybaby he is.

The gentleness comes after when you turn off the toy and throw it to the side, when you wipe the orgasm from his stomach and open the handcuffs. And then you hug him and he finally gets to hug you back, sobbing into your chest as his entire body trembles from what just happened.

“Oh god, oh my god.”

“I’m here. Let it out”, you assure him, holding him close as he pours out his vulnerable heart. 

It is some time past one when he finally calmed down.

“Oh god”, he gets out, shuddering. 

“Do you feel better?” 

“Do you love me again?”

“What? Gosh Googie, of course I do. I never stopped loving you.”

“Then I feel better”, he whispers and hugs you closer, “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel so fucking vulnerable. Oh god, everything is sore and, and warm.”

“Yeah, this was pretty intense. You did really well.”

“I just feel so good when I’m with you”, he presses out and looks up at you. His eyes are devoted and glassy.

“I feel good too, my love.” 

He smiles and you smile too, wiping the remnants of his tears.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Googie.”

“Oh god”, he giggles, kicking his feet, “I feel so good.” 

“Mhm that’s good. Wanna talk about the broken headboard now? You felt a little too good there, didn’t you?” you tease him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. You made me feel so good and I couldn’t control my strength. Just wanted to hold you.”

“Mmh, it’s okay. It’s kinda funny.” You snicker and scrunch your nose. “And hot. My strong hubby.” 

Jungkook giggles, heart fluttering. 

“Yeah, yours. Your hubby. Yours. I love you”, he gets out, heart fluttering even more when you retort it.

“I love you too.”

“And you know that I’m yours?”

“Yes Googie, I do. You’re mine and I’m yours.” “Yeah, forever.”

You and he share a giddy kiss and get comfortable. You slip under his blanket and pull your pillow closer so you can stay on his side. The reason for your minimised space is the huge wet spot Jungkook left on your side. 

“Sorry for dirtying the bed”, he murmurs. 

“Is okay. It’s ruined anyway. I think we smeared your eyeliner everywhere.”

He giggles and hugs you closer, nuzzling his nose against you. You snicker, melting into him.

“Did you like it? I planned it really well”, he fishes for praise.

“I loved it. You look so sexy with my name on your body”, you give him the praise, sending his heart into overdrive, “thank you for your efforts, I really cherish them.”

“Anything for you”, he squeaks out, close to bursting in giddiness. He did enough! You felt his efforts and loved them! Oh, he will fly and dance and sing in his dreams tonight.

You and he are so tired, sleep is just an arm’s length away. Silence would be the most logical thing to share, but Jungkook still has something else to share.

“Do you wanna know something?”

“Yes, tell me.”

“Katy and Joe were really close today when I came over after work. They were this close to holding hands, I think.”

“Oh my god, this is so exciting. I’m telling you, it’s gonna happen this week. They’re gonna hold hands.”

Jungkook agrees with a little excited squeak and a nod of his head. You and he share giggles, nuzzling into each other giddily. You and he feel so good. Not only did you have amazing sex right now and made each other feel like heaven, you even got to have your daily late night snuggles talks.

This is the best ending to an otherwise bad day. Even if you wake up deadly tired the next day. Totally worth it.

[crescenthistory]

I HAVE A THOUGHT ☝️☝️ academic rivals who become fwb to “sabotage” the other

[ugh-yoongi]

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ��drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

[retrosabers]

𝐰𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝.

FICMAS DAY 5 - UNWRAPPING

A RETROSABERS X PANDAPETALS DOUBLE FEATURE

old man logan x fem!reader

summary: logan didn’t believe in exchanging christmas presents. so, you offer him something you know he can’t refuse. a night where’s he’s free to have you all to himself.

contains: 18+ content below the cut. MINORS DNI. making out, some dry humping if you squint, oral (fem receiving), implied age gap, a dash of angst, swearing

word count: 2.6k

a/n: you thought i’d let a whole season pass without a little taste of some festive smut? absolutely hilarious. this is my first time writing for old man logan, and i think i did pretty alright considering i have yet to watch the movie (i’m terrified of the pain it will bring)

any feedback is always greatly appreciated!

also, don’t be confused by the fact that this says day 5 when i still haven’t posted day 4, i’m writing these bad boys out of order

and finally, a huge shoutout & thanks to the wildly talented @pandapetals for agreeing to do a little collaboration! please go check out her blog and all of her amazing work! <3

FIND HER PART HERE

!! divider by @estrelinha-s !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

“are you sure your eyes are closed?”

logan grunts. “they’re closed, darlin’. promise.”

he’s been sitting here for almost fifteen minutes now, waiting for you to bring out this so-called “surprise.” from the ambient lighting and freshly washed bed sheets, the man thinks he’s got a general idea of what it is, but you’ve been fiddling in the bathroom too long for him to be certain.

still, he appeases you, and waits patiently at the foot of your bed. even if it’s a little bit uncomfortable on his knees.

meanwhile you’re fussing over every little detail of your appearance in the groggy bathroom mirror.

this was your solution to getting around logan’s “i don’t need anything for christmas” rule. you always begrudgingly abided by it, save for the box of cigars that always mysteriously turnt up in his nightstand on christmas eve. you knew he could never turn it down, no matter how much he tried.

logan could never say no to a smoke break with a nice pack of cubans. and he most certainly couldn’t say no to you.

that's how you decided upon this whole scheme. dolling yourself up and donning a new set of lingerie themed to the occasion, knowing logan had no leg to stand on. because technically, you didn’t buy anything for him. you bought this for you. he just so happened to be the person who was going to help take it off.

or rip it off, knowing your man’s track record of impatience and eagerness.

you share the exact same sentiment, though your tendency to be anile overpowers all else. you know it doesn’t matter if you have a hair or two out of place, or if your lips are slightly over lined. perfection never mattered to logan, but it still didn’t stop you from doing everything in your power to be pretty damn close to it tonight.

even if it meant making him wait a few extra minutes.

you pay your reflection one final glance before sauntering out into the bedroom.

he smells you before he hears you.

your scent wafting into the room captures his attention more than anything else. logan’s senses may not be as keen as they once were, but the fragrance of you was something utterly unmistakable. a sweet yet sultry aroma that he ached to have on his skin, his clothes, anywhere, to keep him grounded. to remind himself that you were real and you were his. it only adds to the anticipation building inside, the mere seconds he has to wait dragging on like hours in his mind.

a wave of lust overtakes you as logan comes into view. somehow just the sight of him is enough to send a bout of arousal down to your core.

that crisp white dress shirt he always wears is unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled up to reveal those chiseled forearms you love to have wrapped around you. the soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table illuminates the weathered curves of his face so beautifully. a contrast to the ruggedness of his position; legs lazily spread wide and long, thick fingers tapping mindlessly against his thigh.

the picture of a real man. and he’s all yours for the taking.

the sound of your footsteps padding against the floor grows louder. obediently, logan’s eyes stay shut, despite the fact that the other aroma you carry is hot and heavy in his nostrils. his upper lip twitches with a knowing smirk.

so this is exactly what he had in mind.

on instinct, his thighs spread even further when he senses your approach, hands itching to find their place on you somehow. when your own stay glued to your sides, he takes that as his cue to do the same.

logan really hates to admit it, but there’s something about this little bit of mystery that’s got him going before you’ve even begun.

“you ready?” your voice comes out breathy, and if logan didn’t know any better he’d think you’re nervous. and truth be told, you were. not that logan wouldn’t get his kicks, you were certain of that. more so that you’d be unable to walk come tomorrow morning.

though neither of you would consider it a bad thing

“yes ma’am,” he grumbles in response, knowing exactly the effect it has on you. the cockiness on his face is inevitable when he hears your breath hitch.

tease. if that’s how he wants to play, you’re in for a long night.

with a quiet sigh, you splay your fingers over the expanse of his broad shoulders. the man takes it as permission, calloused palms wrapping around your calves and not daring to travel any further. he knows he’ll lose any remaining self control if he gets so much as an inch closer to the apex of your thighs.

“okay.” you murmur. “you can open your eyes.”

slowly, those dark irises begin to drink you in. his grip on you tightens as soon as he gets the whole picture, a visible tent forming in his dress slacks almost immediately.

logan thought you were the most beautiful women he’s ever seen under any conditions. didn’t matter if you were sick, if you were bare faced, none of that changed how otherworldly you looked in his eyes. but nothing, and i mean nothing, compared to the sight of you before him right now.

you look like something out of a dream. hair styled in a way that drives him particularly crazy, makeup done to highlight your features so elegantly in the dim light. the best, and quite possibly logan’s favorite part, however, is that your lips are painted a shade of red to perfectly match the ensemble adorning your body. it sparks a slideshow of rather lewd images in his brain, wanting the color scattered across his cheek, his chest, his cock. anywhere you’re willing to brand him.

he’s committed every inch of you to memory by now. countless nights of exploring, mapping out your curves with hand and tongue. and still, everytime he sees you like this, practically offering yourself on a silver platter, he can’t help but stare back as though this is the very first time.

especially when that crimson silk is accentuating your figure so nicely.

“do you like it?” you ask coyly, bottom lip tucked between your teeth like you’re not fully aware of the power you have over him.

logan scoffs out a laugh, dragging his hands higher and higher until they tug at your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap in one swift motion. you squeak at the sudden display of strength, forgetting that despite his age, he was still infinitely stronger than any man you’ve ever met.

even beneath the layers of fabric between you, the sheer size of him was impossible to ignore. fuck, and he wasn’t even fully hard. you bite back a moan at the outline of his length pressed between your legs.

“that answer your question?” he quips back lowly, smirking smugly.

you hum in content, pressing your hands further into his shoulders as you experimentally grind your hips. the pair of you preen at the contact, desperate for any form of relief after being pent up and waiting.

“careful,” logan grits out in warning. “gonna cum in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager if you keep that up.”

you tsk in response, cocking your head with faux concern. “can’t have that, now can we?”

logan shakes his head at your antics, eyes wandering back over your body once more. before tonight, his favorite set of lingerie you owned was a black lacy number. simple and classic. but the more time he spends inspecting what’s currently adorning your frame, the more he thinks that red might be his new favorite color.

something warm spills over him when he glances at your chest again. something different than what he normally experiences every time he catches a glimpse of your cleavage, anyways.

“is that a bow?” he questions, a little bit amused.

you let out a soft giggle, nodding in reply.

“wanted you to be able to unwrap your present.”

you can count the amount of times logan has laughed, really truly laughed, on one hand. and as much as it sounds like music to your ears, you’re rather confused as to why he’s laughing right now.

“what’s so funny?” you huff, brows knit together and bottom lip jutted in a near pout.

logan averts your inquiry, burying his face in your neck so you can’t see him grinning like an idiot. instead, he busies himself with dragging his lips up and down the column of your throat, reveling in the breathy moans spilling from your lips with each and every press against your skin.

from the moment you met logan howlett, you fantasized about that salt and pepper beard. longed to feel the delicious sting of scruff against every part of you. as addicting as it is, the sensation isn’t enough to keep you completely distracted.

“logan,” you whine, titling your head back to grant him more access. “m’serious.”

he doesn’t halt his ministrations, too consumed with making sure your neck is painted every shade of lavender under the sun. he only stops when you rake your fingers in his hair and physically pull him off, much to both your dismays.

you give him a look. that pursed lips, narrow eyed “what aren’t you saying to me” look that signals he’s going to have to fess up to whatever’s on his mind, or else the evening would be coming to an end right here and now. from the way he’s about to burst through the zipper on his dress slacks, you know he’s not considering weighing options.

logan sighs heavily. if you didn’t know all the variations of the sound, you’d think he was upset with you. but that was far from how the older man felt. he begins to examine your face, observing everything from the slopes of your bone structure, to the color of your irises. he studies your features like an artisan in a gallery, content on not missing a single detail.

after a moment, the corners of his mouth turn up a hair. eyes almost dopey; filled with a lovesickness he never thought could be possible.

“you’re somethin’ else, y’know that?” he murmurs into the air, rough fingertips tracing back and forth across your spine.

you speak the language of logan fluently, knowing exactly what the underlying message of his words were. in reality, he was saying, “what did i do in this life to deserve you? will you ever know how much i love you? i hope you’ll be mine for as long as you’ll have me.”

suddenly his round of laughter from before rings brighter in your ears.

instead of saying another word, you guide his face to yours, connecting your lips in a silent understanding.

logan always kisses you like a man starved, devouring you whole as though every kiss may be the last. there was nothing tame, or tender about the man they once called the wolverine, but you managed to slip between the cracks of his stony disposition, and bring forth all the parts of himself he swore he lost decades ago.

your hands encircle around the back of his neck, logan’s squeezing at the flesh of your hips. he pulls you impossibly closer, pressing the swell of your chest against his own. the feeling of your nipples pebbling through velvet fabric reminds him of the true nature of your current situation.

tonight was for him. his pleasure, his enjoyment. he knew you’d be heavily dissatisfied if he didn’t indulge in what you were offering.

and what kind of man would logan be, if he disappointed his sweet girl?

you’re not expecting him to be so gentle when he turns and flips you over, mouth never once leaving yours. a large hand spread across your back as he lowers you down onto the mattress with a care reserved for you and only you. a fact that adds to your current state of arousal. your legs open like second nature, and logan slots himself between them as though that’s where he was always meant to be.

the whine that leaves you when he pulls away would be embarrassing if it weren’t for the hunger in his stare. those normally hazel pupils now a brownish black that overshadowed bright white. he sits back on his haunches, glazing over your pretty little lingerie with a newfound appreciation.

he reaches to toy with the end of the bow tied snugly between your breasts, a teasing invitation that he graciously accepts.

at a tantalizing pace, he begins to unwrap his present, watching with lustful eyes as more and more skin becomes exposed. you arch your back the slightest bit to get the job done faster, the shoe of impatience now snug on your foot instead of his.

normally, logan would scold, spit something about “being a good girl and waiting.” but he’s just as riled up and eager as you are, and he gives the velvet one final tug that has your breasts springing free.

god you were absolute perfection.

he can’t resist running a thumb over your erect nipples, reveling in the way you squirm over such a small touch. your color coated lips swollen and shiny from his kisses. body already relaxed and pliant, willing to do whatever he so pleases.

a few minutes ago, he would’ve torn your outfit off without second thought and shown no mercy. let the shitty week he was having take control, guide him through the motions of achieving pleasure. but something inside logan urges him to be a little sentimental; take his sweet time on the off chance that he wakes up and discovers this was all a dream.

so he decides that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

the path down to your core was a familiar one, a route he knew like the back of his hand. sloppy, wet kisses trail down your stomach, a small crack in logan’s otherwise composed exterior. by the time he reaches the hem of your panties, tongue teasing beneath the waistband, you’re bursting at the seams with desire, unable to stop yourself from whimpering and bucking your hips upward.

“i gotcha honey,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh, rubbing soft circles with his thumb. “m’gonna take real good care of ya.”

logan knew you were soaked the second you walked into the room. didn’t need to see or feel it to know. still, he indulges his ego and stares proudly at the dark patch in the center of your underwear. knowing it was all his doing, that he was the only one who could get you like this.

when he pulls the fabric to the side and is met with your glistening folds, he can’t help the groan that rumbles in his chest.

“merry fuckin’ christmas to me,” he all but growls before diving right in.

it’s in moments like these where he wishes that photographic memory was his mutation, though he doubts he’ll ever forget this. his perfect girl, laid out so delicately beneath him, basking in the pale moonlight that seeped in between the curtains. his own personal utopia, paradise within the four walls of this rickety building you called home.

logan wonders if maybe he’s finally succumbed to the poison in his bones. because this sure does feel like heaven.

at the very least, it most definitely feels like christmas.

because having the privilege of watching you come undone was the gift that kept on giving all year round.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals @hextech-bros

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[charliemwrites]

A Thought™️ that I had yesterday after watching those AITA videos and babbling in the discord:

(This is also babble to be clear. I’ve been writing this throughout the morning so it might be a bit incoherent)

The 141 is shopping for a new team member, someone to round out their four person squad into five. They have a dozen candidates, pick one that looks promising, and transfer him over under the military equivalent of “probationary” status.

Pretty quickly they decide his personality alone might not make him a good fit but whatever, if he’s good at his job, they’ll suck it up. The “alpha male” posturing bullshit is kind of amusing in the meantime at least.

Well, first mission comes and goes. The guy isn’t too bad, honestly — apart from almost picking a fight with Gaz. Skills-wise he’s as advertised, so he gets to stay a bit longer while the 141 decides if they can stand him.

Post successful mission, though, they go out for drinks at the guy’s insistence. He invites his girlfriend — who he dragged along with him — to the bar to meet his new squad. (Because he thinks there’s no way they’re not making him a permanent teammate.)

And the 141 may be barely tolerant of him, but they decide almost instantly that they adore his girlfriend. She’s incredibly charming and bubbly, doesn’t even blink at Ghost’s mask. One of the first things she does is thank them for the opportunity they’re giving her boyfriend and for keeping him alive.

Which is about the time the real issue starts.

The boyfriend says some rubbish about “an alpha doesn’t need protecting, he does the protecting. He looks out for his pack.”

And you smile a bit awkwardly, looking embarrassed, and try to usher the conversation along.

It doesn’t take long for him to quickly fall out of what little favor he accrued. You’re a bright spot in their group, laughing and chatting with them all like you’ve known them for years. Incredibly sensitive to asking any hard questions and sort of forcing the conversation through the weird patches where your boyfriend interjects with some inane comment.

Eventually, your boyfriend gets sick of your chattering and tells you to fetch them more drinks. Soap instantly sits up, saying you don’t have to do that, but you gently wave him off. Chirp that you don’t mind doing it as a thank you for their service, and weave into the crowd.

The table goes uncomfortable quiet — apart from your boyfriend, who makes some ghastly comment about how you have a pretty face but an annoying laugh. When you get back, drinks expertly balanced in your hands, Ghost goes out of his way to drop puns that get you giggling like mad.

As the night ticks later, and your boyfriend gets drunker, he reaches the point you always dread.

“Garrick, le’s arm wrestle.”

“Baby, I don’t think that’s…”

“This is between us men.”

You groan a bit and sit back. Gaz looks befuddled but shrugs and agrees. It’s not even a contest; your boyfriend’s arm is flat to the table in all of ten seconds. Flustered, your boyfriend demands a rematch. And when he loses again, scoffs and demands a go with Soap.

You practically sink deeper and deeper into your seat before the secondhand embarrassment starts to weigh and you have to excuse yourself to the restroom. When you get back, the impromptu arm wrestling seems to be over, though your boyfriend is sulking in his corner of the booth.

When you gingerly slide back in, Price nudges you with his calf.

“Would you like a go, luv?”

You grin and shake your head. “I don’t fancy a broken wrist, Captain.”

“C’mon luv, you might surprise yourself,” he teases and you can’t resist the playful glint in his eye.

So you lock your thumb around his, elbow on the table, and push. And his arm incrementally goes down… down… down…

“Well would you look at that,” he muses.

You burst into laughter, flattered and endeared by his indulgence.

“That tough, eh?” Soap muses, arching an eyebrow. “Let’s see it, then.”

So you roll your eyes, fully expecting to get trounced. But just like with Price, he starts to relent when you put up resistance, making a show of straining and panting as he “loses.” When you’ve won, you finally play into the joke.

“Serves you right,” you tease.

By your side, you hear your boyfriend huff derisively. “Oh, come on.”

Before your fun can be ruined, though, Ghost is offering you his hand, dark eyes sparkling. You bite your lip, but it doesn’t hide your grin as you accept the unspoken challenge. His hand is huge around yours, but shockingly gentle. He goes down easiest of all, whistling in amazement.

“Look’it that, you’re a pro,” he says, “think we should all be buying you a drink.”

“She doesn’t drink,” your boyfriend interjects.

You huff and settle back into the booth. “Maybe some other time, Lieutenant Riley?”

“Count on it.”

You get into an argument with your boyfriend that night. He thinks you were “challenging his dominance” and “stirring the pot,” trying to sew discord and strife amongst the men to get them fighting over you. He says something about being the alpha of the group and that he would win but it’s insulting to him as your “provider” that you would question his authority.

He’s tipsy as he says it though, working himself up. You just follow the usual routine of soothing, reassuring, simpering — and then considering leaving when he’s finally asleep. But you’re far from home, don’t have the means to leave, and besides, you won’t be finding any support from your family on this front so…

Well, it’s not so bad, you remind yourself. He can be an asshole, but so can you and it takes two to fight. Besides, he only gets really bad when he’s been drinking and that’s only once a week? 1 out of 7 isn’t a bad ratio.

—

The 141 pretty much collectively decide that they adore you though. You get regularly invited to team outings, wherein your boyfriend keeps challenging (and losing) arm wrestling, while the boys coax you into “winning.”

They’ve also become rather adamant that you don’t bring them drinks anymore.

“You’re not our personal beer wench, yeah? We’re able to get our own pints,” Gaz soothes.

Your boyfriend chuckles and shakes his head, imparts his “wisdom” that it’s a female’s job to serve her man and his friends. As a sign of respect or something. You know it’s not an argument worth having and just sip at your drink in silence.

But you love going out with them. Love knowing the men keeping your boyfriend alive and they’re a good bunch. Respectful and funny and disciplined — you’re kind of hoping they snap your boyfriend out of this weird “alpha male” phase he’s been going through. On the other hand, you’re thrilled to be making something like friends. Sure, your boyfriend has made it clear that the 141 are his friends, but they’re always so conscious of keeping you involved and comfortable.

Then one night your boyfriend mentions what a “good little cook” you are and that instantly has all the boys perking up. Smiling, you offer to host during the Saturday League matches. They gleefully accept over your boyfriend’s protests about other men in his territory or something like that.

But when they do come over they’re horrified by the unspoken expectations. You tell them to sit, that you’ll bring them all drinks, with snacks on the way. They’ll be having none of it.

Ghost helps you with drinks, Gaz chops the veggies for snacks (and dinner). Soap pops in to keep you company while you babysit simmering pots. Price helps to tidy as you go, despite you’re fussing that he really doesn’t need to, he should be enjoying the games!

They end up spending more time with you in the kitchen than out in the den with their own teammate. You barely notice, swept up in the busy currents of playing hostess. When your boyfriend shouts that he needs another beer, you come back to find Price getting plates and utensils for dinner. It’s so thoughtful you could cry.

Even worse is when they help you clean up afterwards. Each of them taking and clearing their own plates. Soap on washing big dishes, Gaz on drying. Ghost is packing up leftovers. Price is turning over the dishwasher, asking you where dishes go and tutting when you insist you should be helping.

All the while, your boyfriend stands in the doorway telling you all the ways you could improve the meal next time. And how you definitely ate too much for your body size, etc.

He only stops when Price makes a pointed comment about standing around looking pretty.

When they leave, they each sweep you up in a hug and drop a kiss on your cheek, praising your home and cooking and hosting. Soap promises that he’ll get you a little souvenir on their next mission as a thank you.

And sure enough, three weeks later, the boys are coming by. Except your boyfriend is nowhere to be found — out with some other guys from the base that he says he hit it off with. The 141 insist that he agreed to a football watch again, the empty headed muppet.

And of course you’re not going to turn them away! They’ve brought you flowers, a little matryoshka set from their last mission, chocolates and wine. Not one of them is empty handed.

“Do you even like the game?” Gaz asks as you put it on.

“My favorite team isn’t playing until tomorrow but I don’t mind watching,” you answer, shrugging.

But somehow no football is watched at all. Instead they convince you to tell them your top three favorite movies, then claim none of them have ever seen any of them and they have to watch all of them.

Which is how your boyfriend finds his whole team enjoying a little movie marathon with you. You’re on the ground with Johnny (it’s Johnny now, for you) doing his eyebrows. Gaz is braiding your hair. Ghost (Simon) is sharing a bowl of candies with you. You’re sat against Price’s shins, the captain sitting in your boyfriend’s chair, lounging like a king.

When you welcome him back, telling him the boys are staying the night, he tries to throw a fit about it. How dare you let four strange men stay alone with you?! You calmly remind him that he promised he’d be home by 11 and it’s already nearly 1. And besides, he trusts them with his life, you’re allowed to trust them to be polite in your own home.

With all four of his teammates watching, tense and nearly hostile, he mutters something about being tired and storms off to bed. You end up falling asleep on the couch with ghost despite yourself.

And your boyfriend becomes absolutely haunted by his team’s (is it even his team? It feels more like yours!) affection for you.

They always invite you out even if he doesn’t plan to invite you. (When did you get any of their numbers?! Never mind Ghost’s. He doesn’t even have Ghost’s number.)

They stop by the flat constantly, sometimes dropping in. Other times staying for hours. Soap tells him that they’re all one big family; that includes you. (“Alright then why don’t we go hang out with one of your girlfriends?!” He had an actual nightmare about the laughter that gets him.)

And the fucking gifts. It’s not just soap bringing you things anymore. It’s all of them. Magnets, mugs, sweets, pretty rocks. Just garbage to your boyfriend but you treat it all like treasure. They’ve even got you sending them on hunts for specific things. Something blue, something with nuts, something with the flag.

Then there’s the base.

They bring you on one day — Price picks you up, the boys greet you at the barracks with coffee and breakfast. You’re put into a big 141 hoodie that says “Riley” on the back and toured around. You’re supposed to be “surprising” your boyfriend, but he’s busy with recruits and generally seems uninterested in being around you.

Not to worry though, the 141 is happy to show you a good time around base! Gaz and Johnny walk you through one of the obstacle courses, Simon lets you sit on his back for pushups during the last of his workout. Price takes you to the range and shows you the basics of shooting, then lets you catnap through the adrenaline drop in his office.

Your boyfriend only bothers to find you when Johnny and Simon are teaching you basic self-defense. Your boyfriend scoffs that you’re plenty protected by him, but you point out that he’s away too often to be of any real help — at which point Johnny tags you and bolts before your boyfriend can get all up in arms.

You only recognize that this little hurdle in your relationship has become a chasm when something happens. A big argument with your parents over the phone — you barely even remember what about. But instead of calling your boyfriend afterwards, your first call is to Gaz. (Because you know he’s the most likely to be free and paying attention to his phone.) You’re almost shocked when he picks up on the second ring. Your boyfriend has never answered on the first call.

When you try to explain through poorly-restrained tears, he coos at you to find a warm coffee shop and that they’ll be right there. “They” ends up being him and Johnny, since Simon and Price are locked up in an important meeting. They buy you hot chocolate and pastries while you vent to them, and end up leaving feeling better for once.

But you can’t break up with your boyfriend. Because if you do, the 141 will surely stop hanging out with you, and you value their company enough to put up with it.

At least until you come home one day to find all your little gifts gone. When you ask through a tight throat where everything is, your boyfriend says he was just making space. That you’ve been complaining that you two need a bigger flat, but now he’s solved the problem without wasting money.

You actually raise your voice for once, throwing an entire fit because this. This is the last straw. You storm into your bedroom, slam and lock the door, and call the 141.

A small part of you expects they’ll take his side or something. But nope. Simon soothes you on the other end, that the whole squad will be there in fifteen and to pack your stuff.

You do so while Price takes over and keeps you level. Reminds you of essentials to pack and explains that you’ll be coming to stay at his place, since he’s got off-base housing. It’ll be quiet and cozy and safe while you recover.

Five minutes away, they promise to be right there and end the call.

You could absolutely scream when your boyfriend — ex boyfriend — starts banging on the door. Demanding that you open the door to him. That you’re being over dramatic and blowing everything out of proportion. Using the “your emotional and irrational” line that you’ve heard a thousand times and are just about sick of.

Your heart stutters with relief when you hear the knocking at the apartment door, confused silence as your ex goes to see who it is. You take that moment to slip out, packed suitcase in hand.

You startle a bit at some commotion, round the corner to see your ex’s shirt bunched up in Johnny’s fists, looking ready kill him. No one seems inclined to pull him away; neither are you.

“How are you holding up, luv?” Gaz asks gently as Simon takes your bag.

“Been better,” you admit, sniffling as Price wraps you up in a hug.

“It was just things, luv,” he soothes, “we’ll get you a million more, if you like.”

You pull back to give him a miserable look. “But they were my things and they didn’t have to go anywhere. He just threw them out.”

Johnny snarls something out, but Gaz is already ushering you out the door. You tell your family about the break up through text and then shut off your phone, bundled into the backseat of an SUV with Gaz in the backseat. Price is in the front, all of you waiting for Simon and Johnny to come down.

“What now?” you ask quietly.

“Well, about time we cut that knob loose,” Price muses. “But that’s not your problem anymore.”

“Oh…

“And you, luv.” He looks at you through the rear view. “You get whatever you want.”

[helaintoloki]

hello, I would like to make a request, a story based on the last episode of yours, Five talking to another Five in the final conversation and they talk about his wife and Canon Five doesn't have one, thanks if you want

a/n: i absolutely loved writing this ty for sending this in ! <3

warnings: language, slight angst, spoilers

summary: Five discovers his missing piece

When Five stumbled into Max’s and came across an entire diner full of alternate versions of himself, about a million different questions raced through his mind. However, the most pressing issue he found himself wanting to address was the context behind the lovingly placed portrait of a woman on the wall.

“Who’s the girl?” He asks his counterpart, his eyes remaining glued to the painting. The woman’s smile was gentle, her eyes kind, and her face the most beautiful he’d ever seen. He almost felt drawn to it in a way, as if there was some type of magnetic pull gravitating his focus to her and only her. It was like seeing a ghost or a familiar face from a dream that you’re not quite able to place.

“Don’t you recognize her?” The other Five retorts perplexed, confusion clearly etched on his features. “That’s y/n.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar,” the Boy confesses with an apologetic sigh as he finally pulls his attention away from the painting and sets it back to the Five in front of him.

“No wonder you’re such a mess,” server Five notes with a diverted smile as he tops off their coffee. Calling over his shoulder, he announces to all Fives, “The poor bastard doesn’t have a y/n.”

Murmurs of surprise and astonished laughter fill the cafe at the news, prompting Five’s face to heat in embarrassment at being the butt of a joke he has no grasp of. What do these Fives know that he doesn’t?

“Could you please be so kind as to fill me in on who this y/n is,” he requests agitatedly through gritted teeth. Reaching into his pocket, his counterpart pulls out a weathered photograph and slides it across the table for Five to see.

“Y/n is the missing piece that completes every Five. We all meet her in different ways at different points of our lives, but every time she manages to anchor us back down to earth. Y/n is the glue that holds us together when everything goes to shit. She believes in us, sees the humanity in us despite the horrors we’ve seen and the atrocities we’ve committed. She gives us unconditional love even when we think we don’t need it, when we think it couldn’t possibly exist.”

As Fives look down at the photo before him, he sees himself- or rather, another version of himself- enveloping y/n in his arms. They stand in front of a beautiful home with a picket white fence and a garden full of flowers smiling with pure bliss. It’s clear that the woman loved this version of him by the adoring look in her eyes, and it’s even clearer that she meant everything to the Five sitting across from him.

“She means something different to each of us, but I was one of the Five’s lucky enough to make her my wife,” his companion notes with an evocative smile. “That photo was taken on our honeymoon.

“Where is she now?” Five asks somberly after handing back the photograph.

“Dead,” he replies quietly, releasing a mournful sigh as he sinks back into the booth. “Lost her in an accident while I was trying to stop the apocalypse for a third time. That’s when I decided it was time to hang in the towel.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“We had a good run together, I wouldn’t change any of it,” the replica admits with a reminiscent smile. He takes another look at the photo, committing it to memory before handing it back to Five. “I think you need this more than I do. You may not have had the chance to know your y/n, but judging by the look on your face when you spotted the portrait I have a good feeling you would have loved her just the same.”

Gingerly taking the photograph back, Five stops to admire her gentle features and adoring smile before tucking it safely into the pocket of his suit. “Thank you.”

“You know what you have to do to fix the timelines,” the other Five firmly instructs him. “Just promise me you’ll do by right by my wife. She deserves a safe timeline to live in, one where she can grow old and be happy.”

Rising from his seat at the booth, Five takes one last longing look at the portrait on the wall before returning his gaze to the boy in front of him.

“You have my word.”

[olive-main]

Hi, hope you’re well! Saw your request for angst ideas. If you’re interested: Reader has been part of the Inner Circle for years, like an og member. Post war she watches Az fall in love with Elaine or Gwyn. She’s known they’re mates, but he’s always told her he loves her as a friend, and nobody else knows they’re mates. She watches as his relationship grows, maybe they’re having a kid or whatever, this can be all the angst you see fit. She’s finally had enough and decides to leave (either for work as an emissary or for herself). Maybe as she starts to rebuild, Az and the IC realize how much her loss impacts them. But when they go see her, she’s thriving. Ending can be whatever floats your boat, maybe she’s with Eris or thriving in Day as Lucien’s advisor, or something else all together.

To Love and Let Go

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: An unrequited love, and a one sided mating bond. What will reader do when she can no longer watch Azriel fall for another female who isn’t her?

Wc: 2.9k (gah dayum)

A/N: ok, this is the longggest fic I've written to date, but I don't hate it...and I may be persuaded to write a part two with multiple endings bcs I'm indecisive asf. Requests are still open and highly encouraged since I'm on break and have a bunch of free time, clearly.

__

The stars are mocking tonight, their gleam far too bright for the storm brewing inside you. Velaris has always been beautiful, but tonight the city feels suffocating. The laughter of your family echoes around the River House’s dining room, filling the space with warmth and joy.

You sit at the edge of the long table, wine in hand, your smile carefully in place. Cassian is in the middle of one of his stories, something about Azriel and a drunken spar decades ago. The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but glance at him.

Azriel sits across from you, his shoulders relaxed, his shadows soft and relaxed as they curl lazily around him. He’s laughing—quiet and rare, but enough to tug at your chest in a way you’ve never been able to stop.

Beside him, Gwyn is radiant. She laughs, bright and genuine, her hand resting on his arm as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand shifts, fingers brushing over hers in a way that’s intimate, tender. Simple. Devastating.

You lift your wine to your lips and down the rest of the glass in one burning gulp.

You’ve known for years that Azriel isn’t yours to have. When the Cauldron whispered of your bond, it hadn’t been the joyous revelation you’d dreamed of. Instead, it had been a curse.

You feel it even now—that golden thread tying your soul to his, pulling taut every time you see him. But Azriel never acknowledged it, not once. How could he when he didn't even know it existed?

“You’re my best friend,” he’d told you long ago, sitting beside you on a rooftop in Velaris, the two of you cloaked in silence and shadows. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And you’d smiled. Smiled and tucked the truth deeper inside yourself, burying it so far down you almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real. Almost.

The conversation shifts around you, but the words blur together, distant and unimportant. You force yourself to stay, to laugh when you’re supposed to, to nod in all the right places.

Across the table, Gwyn leans closer to Azriel, whispering something in his ear. He smiles at her, that soft, secret smile you’ve seen so many times over the years. But it’s never been for you.

The ache in your chest spreads, sharp and relentless, until you can’t bear it any longer. You push your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.

“Everything okay?” Mor asks, her brows furrowing as she studies you.

You nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just need some air.”

No one questions you, and you’re grateful for it. You slip out of the room and onto the balcony, the cool night air rushing to meet you. The stars stretch endlessly above, and for a moment, you close your eyes and pretend this life isn’t yours.

But the bond hums faintly in the back of your mind, tethering you to someone who will never feel the same way.

—

You grip the balcony railing, the cool metal grounding you as you draw in a shaky breath. The quiet should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t. Not with the sound of their laughter spilling through the open door behind you, not with the bond thrumming painfully in the back of your mind.

You’ve endured this for years. Watching Azriel laugh, fight, live, all while pretending your heart doesn’t shatter every time he smiles at someone who isn’t you. Gwyn. Elain before her, and Mor long before that. All the women who could never feel what you feel for him—but were lucky enough to have his attention anyway.

And then there’s you, his best friend. The one he trusts, confides in, leans on. Just never in the way you ache for. Even before the bond snapped, you’d been in love with the Shadowsinger. He was always the calm amongst the chaos of your family, the one you could seek refuge in.

The sound of footsteps interrupts your thoughts. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. His shadows reach you first, curling gently around your wrist, hesitant and curious. They always do that, as if they sense the things he doesn’t.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice is soft, warm in a way that makes it harder to breathe.

You release the railing and turn to face him, your mask firmly in place. “I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

His brows pull together, his hazel eyes studying you in that unrelenting way of his. “You’ve seemed… distracted tonight.”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not distracted. Just tired, that’s all.” The lie was easy on your tongue, a lie you’ve repeated more times than you can count.

His shadows shift, curling tighter around you. “You can tell me if something’s wrong,” he says, his voice low, careful.

You want to laugh again. Wrong? Everything is wrong. Your mate is standing in front of you, looking at you with concern while his love sits inside, waiting for him. He doesn’t even feel the bond that’s been tearing you apart for years. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

“I’m fine, Az,” you say again, stepping back, putting distance between you. “Go back inside. Gwyn’s probably wondering where you are.”

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it. He hesitates, his shadows brushing against your hand one last time before retreating.

“All right,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t look convinced.

You watch him go, his wings casting long shadows across the balcony as he disappears into the house. The bond hums faintly, pulling at your heart even as you stand there alone.

—

A part of you wants to blame yourself for never telling him about the mating bond. It was known Azriel always longed for a mate, so much so he had made the bold claim of Elain being his mate once upon a time. Now, he's with Gwyn under that same notion. Unfortunately, your heart had wanted him to love you without the influence of the bond.

Your thoughts persist as you force your eyes shut, trying and failing to fall asleep.

Instead, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all presses down on you. You’ve built your entire life around the Inner Circle, around him. And for what? To watch him build a life with someone else? To keep breaking your own heart over and over again?

No.

When dawn comes, the decision is already made.

—

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asks, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

You stand in the foyer of the River House, your bags already packed and waiting by the door. The soft morning light filters through the windows, casting golden hues over everything. It should feel warm. Comforting. But all you feel is the ache of goodbye.

“I’m sure,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver.

Rhysand stands a few paces away, arms crossed, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. You were like a sister to him, someone he’d protected and seen through every phase of life. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently. “We can figure something out. If you need time off, time for yourself—”

“I need more than time, Rhys,” you interrupt, forcing a small smile to soften the blow. “I need space. A fresh start. This is the right move for me.”

You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times, carefully framing your departure as a professional opportunity. An emissary position in Day Court. Helion had been eager to accept your offer, praising your skills and promising a new challenge that you could sink your teeth into.

It wasn’t a lie. You would thrive in Day Court. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Feyre’s grip on your arm tightens, her lips pressing together as if she’s holding back an argument. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re running away,” she says softly.

You glance past her, your eyes catching on the open archway leading to the dining room. You can feel him in there, his shadows faint even from this distance. The bond pulls, a sharp tug against your ribs.

“I’m not running away,” you tell her, even though part of you wonders if that’s exactly what this is. “I’m choosing myself for once.”

Rhys nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “If that’s what you need, then we support you. Always.”

A lump rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, turning to hug Feyre. “Thank you. For everything.”

—

Azriel watches from the shadows of the dining room as you leave. He doesn’t mean to linger there, doesn’t mean to eavesdrop—but he can’t help it.

He hears Feyre’s quiet goodbye, Rhys’s reassurances. He sees the way your shoulders straighten as you step out the door, as if you’re carrying a weight none of them can understand.

Something twists in his chest, sharp and unfamiliar.

He doesn’t understand it. You’ve left Velaris before, gone on missions and trips for weeks at a time. But this feels… different. Permanent.

For a moment, he almost steps forward, almost calls out to you. But then the door closes, and you’re gone.

—

The Day Court is a world apart from Velaris.

Here, the sun always seems to shine, casting a golden glow over Helion’s sprawling palace. It’s vibrant, full of life, and for the first time in years, you feel as though you can finally breathe.

Helion welcomes you with open arms, praising your work and throwing you headfirst into new projects. The days are busy, your nights peaceful, and slowly—very slowly—the ache in your chest begins to fade.

You make new allies and friends. Lucien, especially, becomes an unexpected source of comfort. He understands unspoken bonds, the pain of being tied to someone who doesn’t want you. For the first few weeks, most, if not all your time was spent by his side.

“You’re free now,” he tells you one evening, the two of you sitting on a balcony overlooking the Day Court gardens. His amber eyes glint in the fading sunlight. “It doesn’t feel like it yet, but it will. One day.”

You smile, a real smile, and let the words settle in your chest.

—

Back in Velaris, the Inner Circle feels the void you’ve left behind. Cassian complains loudly during training sessions about how things don’t run as smoothly without you. Mor keeps suggesting trips to Day Court, half-joking but half-serious. Even Feyre finds herself reaching for you during meetings, only to realize you’re no longer there.

And Azriel…

Azriel notices most of all.

He misses the quiet way you steadied him, the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The balance you brought to the group. To him.

At first, he tells himself it’s just an adjustment. You’ll be back eventually. But as the weeks stretch into months, he begins to realize just how deeply your absence has cut into his life.

The shadow of the bond hums faintly in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t understand why.

Not yet.

—

It’s Feyre who suggests the trip.

“You’ve been working too hard,” she tells Azriel, shooting him with a look that leaves no room for argument. “We all have. A visit to Day Court will do us some good. Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve seen her.”

Azriel hesitates but eventually agrees. He tells himself it’s curiosity, that he just wants to see how you’re settling in. Since you’ve left his relationship with everyone, Gywn especially, has grown distant. He tries to find you in her, comparing the small things that shouldn’t matter—and every time it only makes his heart sink.

When they arrive, they find you in the Day Court gardens, laughing at something Lucien has said. The sunlight catches in your hair, your face glowing with a happiness Azriel hasn’t seen in years.

The gardens are breathtaking, a vibrant sprawl of golden blooms and gleaming fountains that seem to echo the brilliance of the sun overhead. But Azriel doesn’t see any of it.

His focus is entirely on you.

You look radiant, the golden hues of Day Court seeming to highlight the confidence you’ve gained in your time away.

Lucien leans closer, his expression soft yet intent, and the sight makes something dark and ugly twist in Azriel’s chest. It’s not the first time he’s seen Lucien or been jealous of the male, but this—this—feels different. He used to feel that pang of jealousy when he blindly pined for Elain, now with you it returned with a greater force.

He doesn’t understand why these feelings have suddenly spread through him. You’ve always been his friend. His anchor. But as Lucien reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, Azriel feels like he’s watching something slip through his fingers.

“Az?” Feyre’s voice pulls him back. She’s watching him with careful eyes, her brow furrowing.

He shakes his head and straightens his posture, forcing his expression back into neutral territory. “I’m fine.” But he isn’t.

Before Feyre can press him further, Lucien notices their approach and gives a low whistle. “Well, well. Velaris sends its finest.” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes as they flick toward you.

You turn, and when your gaze lands on Azriel, your smile falters. It’s a subtle shift, but he sees it. Feels it.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Azriel,” you greet, inclining your head slightly, your voice polite but distant. As if they were strangers and not the family you chose all those centuries ago.

He hates it.

The reunion is cordial at first, filled with pleasantries and talk of work. Lucien stands close to you, his presence steady, his hand occasionally brushing yours in a way that grounds you. Azriel’s shadows stir restlessly, but he forces them into submission.

“You’ve done well here,” Feyre says warmly, her gaze sweeping over the garden. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Your smile is genuine, though it doesn’t quite reach Azriel. “Helion has been… generous with his trust.”

“And with his emissary’s time,” Lucien adds, grinning at you. “She’s a natural. Can’t imagine how Day Court managed before she arrived.”

The praise makes you duck your head slightly, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks. Azriel’s jaw tightens.

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” he says, his voice lower than usual.

Your eyes flick to him briefly before turning back to Lucien, but there’s something guarded in your expression. “I have. It’s been… fulfilling.”

The word stings more than it should.

—

Eventually, Feyre and Rhys drift away with Lucien, leaving you and Azriel alone amidst the golden flowers. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“You’ve been… different,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You glance at him, your arms folding across your chest. “Different how?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Happier,” he admits.

The softness in his voice almost makes you falter, but you stand your ground. “I am,” you say simply.

His shadows curl around his feet, agitated. “You left so suddenly,” he says, his tone sharper now. “One day you were there, and the next you were… gone. No warning. No explanation.”

You raise an eyebrow, bitterness creeping into your voice. “I told you I needed space. I told all of you.” You pause for a second, staring at a cluster of white lilies. “Why does it matter now, Azriel?”

“Because I miss you,” he says, the words raw and unguarded. “We all do. But me… I—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.

You laugh softly, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “You miss me now? After I’ve finally started to find peace? After you’ve built a life with Gwyn?”

His shadows surge forward, brushing against your arm, but you shake them off. “Don’t do this, Azriel.”

“You’re my friend,” he says, and the words make your heart twist painfully.

You whirl to face him, your eyes blazing. “No. I was never just your friend, Azriel. I was your mate.”

The truth spills out before you can stop it, sharp and cutting. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

“What?” His voice is barely a whisper.

You laugh again, a broken sound. “The Cauldron tied us together centuries ago, but you never felt it, did you? You never even noticed.”

His shadows pull back, retreating like they’ve been burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter!” you snap, your voice rising. “You didn’t want me that way, Azriel. You never did. And I wasn’t about to force something on you that you didn’t feel.”

He stares at you, his usually stoic face cracking with something raw and uncertain. “I—”

But you shake your head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“You’ve moved on?” he echoes, his gaze flicking toward the direction Lucien went. His voice lowers, dangerous. “With him?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though the word feels heavy. “Because he sees me, Azriel. He knows what it’s like to be unwanted. To feel second-best.”

The words are a dagger between you, and you can see the way they strike him, the way his shadows twist and writhe.

“Is that what you think?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “That you were second-best?”

Your throat tightens, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The bond hums faintly in your chest, but it’s different now—fading, unraveling as you finally let go of the male who could never love you the way you deserved.

“I’m happy here,” you say softly, your voice steady. “And you… you have Gwyn. You have your life in Velaris. Let that be enough.”

Azriel doesn’t argue. He just stands there, his shadows a chaotic storm around him, as you turn and walk away.

This time, you don’t look back.

Aaannd scene XOXO ~

[itaipava]

— f1 boys apologizing after a fight.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

you’re lying back-to-back in bed, neither able to sleep. at some point in the night, he gives in and you feel a hand on your arm, lips pressed against your shoulder, “will you let me hold you? i promise we will talk about it tomorrow.” as you eventually nod in agreement, you can feel him smile against your skin. he wraps his arms around you, whispering a faint ‘i’m sorry’ before you both finally drift off to sleep with much lighter hearts.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

you come home to find him seated on the couch in front of the tv, surrounded by a cozy blanket and a bunch of pillows. he tries to act cool about it, “oh hey, i was just about to watch a movie. you can join if you want.” you almost can’t fight the smile forming on your face as you notice your favorite snacks as well as two cups of hot cocoa on the table. you try to act unfazed and walk past him when he grabs your wrist, “oh come on, it’s your favorite movie and i made the hot cocoa for you myself,” he says then his expression softens, “i’m sorry. can we make up, please? it sucks fighting with you.”

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he apologizes through touch; you guys may not be on speaking terms but at the end of the day, he relents once the cold anger fades. you’re standing by the corner in the kitchen at night, lost in your own thoughts until you feel a pair of arms around you from behind; your body instinctively tenses but it relaxes once you recognize who it is. he quietly holds you in a back-hug for a long while before whispering a soft ‘i’m so sorry. i love you,’

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he apologizes unreservedly and sincerely with a straight face. his face is pretty passive and aloof but somehow, the emotions and the genuineness is evident in his voice - very subtle voice cracks, hoarse tone. probably sits down and talks about the argument and the cause of it and what you both can do to fix the problem. then he hugs you, light-heartedly saying, “fighting with you is exhausting; i think that just took ten years off my life.” then kisses you, murmuring more apologies against your lips.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he normally needs time alone to process his emotions and thoughts, which is why he decides to sleep on the couch for the night and he leaves for a while before you wake up in the morning. but he doesn’t leave the house without making you your favorite breakfast, drink, and writing a little note that reads: went for a run, will be back soon. i’m sorry about last night. and he finishes it off with his name, followed by a random, cute doodle.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

arguments with him rarely lasts long; he wants to make up and move on from it as quickly as possible. you’re both lying in bed, facing away from each other, both awake and feeling equally guilty. then you roll over and turn around to apologize at the same time. after a moment of gazing at each other, you break into soft giggles and he chuckles as he pulls you into his chest, mumbling apologies and sweet words.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he awkwardly does little things for you; when you drop a pen, he picks it up and hands it to you without a word; when he sees that you’ve forgotten to take the towel into the bathroom, he wordlessly leaves a fresh one by the door. when he’s having a snack and he sees you pass by, he offers you some. if you accept it, he expectantly looks at you. “sooo, we good?” when you respond with a nod, he lets out big sigh of relief before hugging you; “i’m really sorry, y/n,”

[cozage]

Hii!! Can you write some headcanon about how they are with their s/o after 20 or 30 years passed? Or in their old age. Ace Law and Zoro please.(Please include Ace. You know what i mean right? 🥺) With a female reader. Thank you ❤️

A/N:Forgive any typos please :) Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Zoro Cw: None :) Total word count: 1k

Years Passed

Ace

After Whitebeard passed, Ace was one of the top contenders to lead the pirate crew, but ultimately the Whitebeard Pirates disbanded. It didn’t feel right without Pops. The two of you sailed around with a smaller ship for a few years before retiring to your favorite island.

That being said, you all still take trips to other islands or sail for a while to celebrate special occasions. 

While you all don’t go out drinking nearly as much as you used to, you’re still regulars at the local tavern. On Friday nights they like to play music, and you trade stories with the new “kids” who are brave enough to take on the Grand Line.

He still brings you breakfast in bed every Saturday morning, complete with fresh-cut flowers. Breakfast is never the same; he always seems to know just what you're in the mood for.

You all ended up having kids. Ace wanted one hundred, but you cut him off after three. 

He still likes to bring home a stray kid he found on the side of the street every now and then, and you never minded having the extra rooms filled for as long as they needed to stay. Some stayed for only a few days, some stayed for years. You loved them all the same.

Just about every night, the two of you make it a priority to sit out and watch the sunset. The moments together are truly what makes life feel worth living

Even after all these years, he sticks up for you and loves you without shame. He’s never afraid to show you off or plant a kiss on your lips when he thinks someone else is eyeing you. He loves to brag about you and all of the light you’ve given him over the years to just about anyone who will listen. 

Law

It took Law a long time to find a place worth settling down in. You all finally decided on Zou.

It made sense. He was a wandering spirit, Zou was a wandering civilization. He could still move about while being in one place. Plus, you always had a feeling he would have a harder time parting with Bepo than he ever let on. 

He ended up working as a doctor for the minks (no surprise there) and found that his favorite part of the day was when he got to help kids feel better. 

Your moment of peace and tranquility, even after all these years, is the morning cup of coffee you all share. You never get tired of that simple moment between the two of you, and you cherish it with your whole heart. 

Every Friday, Bepo’s family comes over for dinner. The kids typically put on some silly play or performance or rope you all into games they want to play, and you all will stay awake far longer than you ever care to admit. 

You always complain about how exhausted you are on Saturdays, and Law promises “We’ll kick them out earlier next week”, but you never do. You would never want to limit your time with Bepo and his family anyway, the complaining is more to get out of any chores you may have promised to do. 

Law loves in the quietest of ways. He prefers to stay in and curl up on the couch, or he’ll bring you a book to read in bed alongside him. But he never goes to sleep without kissing you first. 

Zoro

Zoro still groans when you get out of bed. He almost always pulls you back in with a “five more minutes” mumble. You had begun accounting for this delay years ago, but it still makes your heart flutter when he pulls you back in and wraps his arms around you so that you can’t escape. 

He runs his own dojo now, that operates solely off of donations (and the load of gold you all have from your pirating days). Kids can come to practice, or they can live and work there too. It’s a very satisfying occupation for both of you. 

Funnily enough, Zoro found a strange love for cooking. Well, grilling. He loves to grill. You used to joke about it being a necessary qualification to be a dad, but now he just tries to grill everything. Dinner is almost always covered, but you never know what new thing he’s going to try (and yes, he does have a really corny apron like “#1 Grillmaster” or something).

He likes to stay in most of the time nowadays. If you go out, it’s usually to a small place that is more family-style than bars. 

However, he likes to go to a bar with you sometimes and pretend that you all don’t know each other. He’ll spend the whole night flirting with you and finally end the night with “So, you coming home with me or what?”. He ALWAYS has new pickup lines or witty things to say to you. 

Zoro prefers to keep you to himself. He guards you fiercely and will defend you to death if someone even considers looking at you wrong. The first thing he teaches at the dojo is that you deserve respect above anyone else, and disrespect to you will mean immediate dismissal from the program. He can’t stand to see anything that might cause you pain.

[mxmis]

The way they sleep with you~ Arcane

A/n: a short fluff writing about how they would sleep with you sfw finished the show recently and can’t stop thinking about these characters

Vi~🥊

Probably gets to bed at an alright time most nights but can’t help coming home late

She will be quick to make it up to you if you stay up waiting for her

Big spoon 90% of the time she loves the contact of your heartbeat close to hers helps her stay calm if she’s got something bugging her from that day

The other 10% or less is when she has had a really bad day or a very serious intimate moment between you two

She feels vulnerable during this time and wants you to be the one to hold her, facing each other her head close to your chest your arms locked around her neck and shoulders

Usually up before you due to being used to prison schedule and her own daily workouts

Wakes you up by softly stroking your forehead to your jaw with the back of her hand

“Hey cupcake did you sleep good? Well every night I’m with you is a good night ;) Haha well I’m just telling you the truth. Love these moments with you y’know. Just you and me no stress no frustrations just us”

Jinx~🦋

Most cuddly of them all

No big spoon or little spoon just the two of you in a pile of entangled limbs, smiles, and kisses

Has not preference on how you cuddle or any position just likes being close to you

There is an exception, if she’s having an outburst and mental breakdown she will attach herself to you, her head against your chest and her legs wrapped around you

She will lie there for a while even after the voices stop. She’s listening to your heartbeat and greatly appreciates you letting her

Very lazy morning person and probably the worst sleep schedule Actually more like no sleep schedule at all

You will be the one waking her up more often than not and you are usually met with a groan and a “five more minutes” as she’ll wrap her arms around your neck and pull you back down

Will be in contact with you throughout the entire time she’s asleep it may be a hand or a leg or most likely her entire body

“Mmmh wake me in a year. Who says I can’t stay. Ugh right right big ol responsibility bleh. Who needs all those responsibilities when I’ve got everything I need right here. Yup my tools, gadgets, plans and bed. Yeah yeah I guess I would say you’re on that list. I’m just kidding you’re at the top of the list *mwah*

Caitlyn~🔵

Alright sleep schedule, sometimes gets caught up in her cases and loses track of time you usually have to remind her of time and bring her to dreamland

More focused on what you like in these types of situations, if you want to be held she’ll hold you and the same for if you want to hold her

Will read you to sleep if you ask but sometimes if your gently playing with her hair or being really soft with her she’ll fall asleep to your touch

No preference on being big spoon or little spoon as long as she is with you she doesn’t care and if you carried her to bed then she’s already too asleep to care

Will somehow wake up ready to go basically every morning, her superpower is restful sleep and somehow she always looks amazing no bed head or anything

“Morning love” she leans down and softly kisses your forehead lingering for a second as if she’s debating another one “Breakfast is ready, I decided since you helped me to bed I’ll help you out of bed” she chuckles

[sabertoothwalrus]

so I’ve been gaining a lot of insight into the animation industry recently, especially in regards to pitching & the creation of new shows. There’s a few ways to go about it.

First, there’s pitching to a studio. When you pitch, it has to be SHORT and CONCISE. You may write a lovingly detailed pitch bible that perfectly breaks down episodes and characterizations, and it might barely even get read. First impressions, first impressions, first impressions!

Most peoples’ first projects don’t get picked up. I’ve heard a few stories from directors that said they tried pitching a story they’d had for years, which got rejected, to then spend a week or even several hours in their car coming up with a new idea, only for that to get greenlit.

But that’s not the end of it. Just because a show gets greenlit, doesn’t mean it will ever get finished. There’s lots of things that can happen. Sometimes, unexpected major world events (like… a global pandemic) can cause projects to get chopped. Sometimes, a CEO change or studio merge means a single person can decide a project “no longer fits with the company’s brand.” Sometimes, the one producer that was rooting for your project gets laid off, and no one else cares enough, so it gets shelved. Sometimes, a streaming service decides to create an animation department, and then they decide they don’t want it anymore. Sometimes, the studio will be simultaneously be developing another project that was too similar to yours and they just didn’t think to tell you until they decide yours is the one with less potential.

On top of that, almost everyone in the industry is saying that “studios just don’t pick up original content anymore.” Studios want something they can franchise, something that will bring in money. New content is risky. Established fanbases are safer.

However! Studios can still be a very good thing. They can be unionized. They can provide better benefits and resources. They can have connections and infrastructure and a larger volume of workers. At a studio, you can divide the labor and produce more in less time. Longer episodes, longer seasons, more consistency in quality.

But this comes with all of the disadvantages of having more in the kitchen.

The alternative is indie animation.

With indie animation, you have total freedom. Full artistic control. It doesn’t even matter if your idea sucks ass, because there’s no one to tell you you can’t make it. You could make it anyway, and you can make it whatever you wanted.

The thing is, making animation is hard. In my production class last semester, the average maximum animation one person could make in that timeframe was 30-60 seconds, and that’s not even counting background design, sound design, or cleanup/color. To make a 5 minute animated short, you should probably have at least 5 people.

And it is CRUCIAL you have a production manager. Ideally someone who’s not already doing art for the project. Most projects without a production manager will fall apart pretty quickly. Once the adrenaline and impulse-fueled motivation wears off, you need someone to hold you accountable and enforce deadlines and proper time management.

Speaking of time, that’s also hard to get. The more people you have, the more likely schedules won’t line up. Most people will have school, or other jobs.

And it costs MONEY!!!!!! You either have everyone work for free and volunteer their time & energy, or you establish a business as a proper indie studio, with people who may or may not have experience on how to handle paying someone else’s salary. And the money has to come from somewhere, so you have to rely on crowdfunding like patreon or kickstarter. (This, by the way, is why I could never fault an indie animation for releasing merch with their pilot.)

And like, maybe you wanna do a series, and all your friends agree to volunteer their labor and time to make the first episode, but it was unanimously not sustainable. Deciding not to produce a second episode until you can raise enough money is not being suddenly greedy, it’s attempting to compensate people rather than expecting them to be continuously taken advantage of.

You have to consider your output as well. There are some outliers like Worthikids, who afaik does all his animation himself, and afaik can work on it full-time thanks to his patreon subscribers. And he still has only produced a total of 30 minutes of animation (for Big Top Burger specifically) in the past 4 years. This is an IMPRESSIVE feat and this is with using a lot of 3D as part of his pipeline!!

Indie animation also has the complication of being more accessible for fandoms. When you’re posting your Official Canon Content on youtube, it doesn’t look a lot different than the fandom-created video essay in the sidebar next to it. What’s canon vs what’s fanon becomes less distinguishable. The boundaries are blurrier. When the creator is just some guy you follow on twitter, it’s easier to prod them for info regarding ships and theories and word-of-god confirmation. They don’t have a PR team or entire international tv networks to appeal to. And this is when creators get frustrated that their fans snowball and turn their creation into something they don’t recognize (and no longer enjoy) anymore.

So it’s tricky.

Thankfully, the threshold to learn animation is fairly low nowadays!! There are TONS of resources online to learn it on your own without forking over a couple hundred thousand to a private art college. There are conventions and discord servers and events where you can network, if you know where to look.

I know it can seem discouraging in the face of capitalism, but I think that’s all the more reason why it’s so important to BE DETERMINED about animation!! We’re already starting to see the beginning of an indie animation boom, and I think it’s a testament to humanity’s desire to tell stories and create art. Even if there’s no financial gain, we do whatever it takes to tell our stories anyway.

[covenofagatha]

I love your Agatha stories!! I was wondering of you could write something where reader is the daughter of one of detective Agnes’ coworkers, who she doesn’t get along with, and they met in one of those cop friends reunion. She sees reader in the pool and can’t help but be infatuated by them, and when she discovers who reader’s father is, her needs to defile reader just increases😈

may have been a lil drunk finishing this so hopefully there's not too many mistakes lol

(Not so) Good girl, bad cop

Detective Agnes meets the attractive daughter of her annoying partner at the annual Westview PD Christmas party and decides that she has to have her

Word count: 3300

Warnings: bratty reader, top agatha, fingering, virgin reader, teasing, degradation, daddy kink, implied oral

The house of Agnes’s partner, Gary, is filled with food, music, and merriment for the annual Westview Police Department Christmas party. 

And yet, Agnes would rather be anywhere else. She makes a mental list of the places she wishes she could be instead, the bottom of a ditch making an appearance surprisingly high up. 

Her kiss-ass partner had practically begged Chief to let him throw it at his house, always trying to get ahead some way or another. 

Agnes can’t stand him. 

His smug little face when he took credit for one of her solves. The way he would mansplain things to her. The way he would take his fucking shoes off and put his feet up on desk. 

But she puts on a fake smile and hands him the obligatory bottle of wine when she walks into the home. 

“Ah, Agnes, there you are!” He booms and claps her on the shoulder. She grits her teeth before she removes his hand herself. She grunts as a way of greeting and steps right past him further into the foyer. 

Detectives and officers wave as she passes through the crowd of people to go find a corner to stand in and drink a beer. Everyone seems to be having a good time and she hates it. Hates to see Gary win like this. 

Her bored eyes flit through to find someone interesting enough to talk to, and that’s when she catches sight of someone outside. 

More specifically, a girl in the pool. You. 

Agnes’s forehead creases. All she can see is your shoulders and head and she turns her body fully to the sliding glass door to observe. 

You seem to just be floating around but there’s something about you that has her transfixed. 

Maybe it’s your wet hair matted around your face, or your nose and cheekbones, or the color of your eyes that she can see from inside. 

And that mouth, god. Agnes groans inwardly. What it must be like to kiss those pretty lips. 

Or for them to be elsewhere. 

“Hey, Agnes, Merry Christmas!” Agnes jolts out of her trance to find Chief standing next to her. 

“Same to you,” she says gruffly and then lifts her hand with the beer to point at you. “Who is that?” 

“Oh, that’s Gary’s daughter, Y/N. She’s home from freshman year of college. Met her a few times,” he says disinterestedly. 

But Agnes feels a thrill run through her. She didn’t know Gary had a daughter. Now, instead of just wanting an unknown person’s mouth on her, she wants Gary’s daughter’s mouth on her. The son of a bitch may have the favor of the entire Westview PD, but she is surely going to have you. 

And then you wade through the water to the side of the pool and push yourself out of it and Agnes almost moans at the way your muscles flex in your arms. 

And then she’s able to take all of you in. 

Your skimpy purple two-piece, the low cut of the top and how it shows significant cleavage, and the bottoms that rest just above the hip bones that Agnes wants to scrape her teeth against. 

She barely notices Chief walking away before making the executive decision to shove open the door and go talk to Gary’s daughter. 

You’re toweling off next to your pile of clothes on the patio table when you hear someone stepping out onto the back deck. You figure it’s just your dad, maybe coming to yell at you for being outside swimming instead of “mingling with the guests” like he wanted. 

But you hate these parties, having been to enough of them your whole life. Cops were boring and most of them had the biggest superiority complexes you’d ever seen. 

So you said fuck it and put on your swim suit. 

Footsteps get closer to you and you glance back, bracing for the lecture. 

But it’s not your dad. 

It’s Detective Agnes, his partner. 

You had seen her a few times at cop events you’d been forced into going to, but you had never spoken to her. You’re not sure she actually knows who you are.

However, you certainly know her. 

Her frizzy dark hair. Her piercing blue eyes. The way her lips pursed and her veiny hands would grip onto her belt. 

She is one of the hottest women you’ve ever seen. 

And she came wearing a suit tonight, hair tied back in a ponytail: black pants and a blazer over a neatly tucked in white button-down shirt that makes you want to drop to your knees. And a fucking tie, is she serious. 

The things you want her to do to you…god. Even though you’d only seen her from afar a few times, you still spent quite a few nights imagining her, hand between your legs. 

“Come to swim?” You ask when she finally gets close to you. She snorts and gives you a once-over. 

“Aren’t you cold?” 

You shrug even though the windy December air is brutally harsh against your bare wet skin. The urge to shiver is almost all-consuming, but with her standing this close to you, there’s a faint warmth in your stomach distracting you. 

You know that your body is reacting, however, and you twist your hair up into the towel so that Agnes can see your nipples poking through your top, harder than glass. Her eyes dart down, almost too fast to catch, but the way she gulps and clenches her teeth gives her away. 

“Maybe a little,” you answer. “Just need a way to warm up.” It sounds just as suggestive as you intend it and you can see her eyes darken. 

“Putting some clothes on would surely help,” she suggests and you pout mockingly but pull your long sleeve shirt over your head and wrap the towel around your waist. “Better?” 

You hum in agreement. “Did my dad send you out here? I don’t need a babysitter, you know.” 

She chuckles like something’s funny. “No, he didn’t, but are you sure you don’t? You would’ve caught hypothermia if it weren’t for me.”

“Wow,” you say, voice sickly sweet. “I had no idea my dad’s partner was a better daddy than he is. Look at you watching out for me.” You smirk, hearing her breath catch in her throat. 

But then Agnes scoffs. “And I had no idea my partner’s daughter was such a brat.” It’s impossible to miss the spark that goes straight to your cunt when she calls you that and you simper. 

“What are you gonna do about it, Detective?” You’re not sure where this boldness is coming from, but you like it and you think she likes it, too. 

Agnes growls and takes a step closer to you. You stand your ground, daring her with your eyes. 

“Your lips are blue, doll. The only thing I’m ‘gonna do about it’ is get your ass inside so your father doesn’t kill me when you freeze on my watch.” Her hand clasps your bicep and she practically hauls you back towards the door. 

“You’re really strong,” you remark, enjoying the way her grip tightens around you. “Do you work out?” You do mean for it to sound sexier, like a smooth pick-up line, but with the way your teeth have started chattering, it sounds like you’re slurring and you barely get the words out. She slides open the door and pushes you inside, the balmy air instantly making you feel better. 

“Go take a shower,” she tells you. 

You bite your bottom lip and bat your eyelashes. “Why don’t you come join me? That would really warm me up.” You toy with the edge of her tie, pulling on it ever so slightly and looking up at her through your eyelashes.

“You’re shameless, aren’t you?” She hisses, the vein in her forehead throbbing. “Throwing yourself at anyone who gives you a little attention, begging to be put in your place. Are you like this with all the girls at college, too? Getting fucked by a new one every night?”

You lean in closer so only she can hear you. “I’m a virgin,” you whisper in her ear, blush spreading to your cheeks, and she sharply inhales, almost giving into you right there. She’s going to take Gary’s daughter’s virginity. You can see her neck taunt with restraint and she steps back to put some space between you, almost all the blue in her eyes being swallowed up by her pupils. 

“Go upstairs and take a shower now,” she orders, her voice hard. 

“And then what?” 

She rolls her eyes. “If you can behave, maybe you’ll get a reward.” Heat flares through you and you take the stairs two at a time and shower faster than you ever have before. 

When you come back down, clad in a short red dress, you immediately find Agnes standing alone and out of sight in the hallway to the guest room. You join her, momentarily getting distracted by her loosened tie and blazer rolled up to her forearms. 

“I did it,” you say, voice coming out hushed. She rakes her eyes over you, smirking appreciatively. 

“So you did,” she agrees. “I’m glad you can follow simple directions.”

You wait a second with a raised eyebrow. She says nothing. “Do I get a reward now?”

She barks out a laugh. “So eager, aren’t you, pet?” The new name sends a bolt of lightning straight through you and you nod. “Let’s see if you can behave just a bit longer before I ruin you for everyone else.” 

You stick out your bottom lip like a petulant child and she pats your face roughly. 

“Come on,” you try again, whining. “Why can’t we just sneak away right now? No one would notice if you just came up to my bedroom with me.”

Your fingers play with her tie again, giving her a wicked grin as you tug her in closer by it, but she quickly snatches your wrists off her and pins them against the wall over your head, body pressing against yours. 

A moan escapes your mouth and your heart skips a beat. 

“Is this what you want?” She snarls, husky and deep and heat-filled, and it’s hard to think straight. Her leg presses between your legs and your head lolls back against the wall, tilting so she can lean in closer. “You want someone to punish you for being a bad girl? Want someone to take you rough and fast to teach you a lesson? What would your father think if he saw you this desperate for me? His perfect little darling daughter, grinding on my leg like a slut?” 

You whimper and try to force words out of your mouth, but you have no luck. She huffs and steps back, letting go of you and you instantly miss her heat against you. 

“See, you don’t even know what you want,” she scoffs. “Are you going to be good?”

You smirk. “Why should I, if it gets you this hot and bothered?” She fixes her stare on you, but you hold it, glare unwavering. 

“You know what?” She snaps and excitement rises inside you. “Fuck it.” You open your mouth to ask what she means, but she grabs your hand and pulls you back into the guest bedroom. 

You wonder if she had scoped it out while you were in the shower. Just canvassing the place, trying to find the best place for this. 

Agnes shoves your front against the door, holding your arms behind your back with her body like you’re being arrested, and yanks your head back by your hair. 

“What do I have to do to get you to behave, hm?” She asks. “Bend you over and spank you? Get you so wound up that you’re begging to cum and then leave you high and dry? Or make you cum so many times that your pretty face is covered in tears?”

You can’t help but whimper at her words. “Please, Detective,” you beg, feeling an ache that you’ve never felt before. “Anything.” 

Her hand comes down to rub your ass soothingly and you arch back into her touch. “Are you sure you want this to be your first time?” She asks quietly and carefully. Your knees tremble at the sudden softness and you nod so hard your head hurts. 

“Yes,” you rasp. “I need you so badly.”

She groans into your ear, seemingly very affected by your words. “In case you ever want to stop, say ‘purple’ or tap anywhere on me twice. Got it?” 

“Got it,” you breathe and her tongue licks a hot stripe up your throat. “Please, Detective, please touch me.” 

She flips you around and traces her hands up the sides of your stomach, her warmth seeping through your dress. She studies you. “You know, sweetheart, I know you can do better than that with how you’ve been acting all night.”

“Please, please, want you to fuck me, want you to be my first,” you whine, letting the words pour out of your mouth. “Detective, I need to feel you, please, daddy.” The last word kind of just slips out, but based on her strangled gasp, it seems to turn her on. 

She grabs your chin in her hand and holds eye contact with you. “Say it again,” she orders in a deep voice. Hearing her like this, seeing her like this, is doing wonders to you. 

But there’s still a bit of brat inside you. 

“Make me,” you challenge. Agnes raises an eyebrow and her other hand slips under your dress and cups you over your underwear. 

You sharply inhale at the feeling of someone else touching you there. While you are no stranger to your own body, having Agnes’s fingers against your most sensitive area is a whole new sensation. 

“God, you’ve really been getting off on being a brat, haven’t you?” She taunts, feeling your wetness against her fingers.

“Maybe…” you trail off softly and she pushes your underwear aside. Your knees almost buckle at the feeling of her against you, stroking through her folds. One finger teases your entrance and you try to maneuver yourself to get her to dip inside. 

“Ah ah,” she tuts, refusing to give you what you want. “Say it again.” 

This time, you give in straight away, needing her more than your pride. “Please, daddy, just fuck me.” 

She slides a finger into you and you moan, head dropping back against the wall. You can’t believe you're losing your virginity to your dad’s partner against the door to your guest room. You didn’t picture it like this, but you had wished she would be your first, so either way the end result was the same. 

“Fuck, doll, you’re so wet and hot around me,” Agnes says, beginning to slowly move her finger in and out, twisting to hit a spot that has you panting. “If only your father could see me now, fingers deep in his only child. Corrupting his perfect daughter.” 

For some reason, that only turns you on more and you roll your hips against her, drawing her finger in. 

“Please, daddy, need more,” you plead and she chuckles meanly before slipping a second finger into you. The stretch makes you groan but it feels so good. You meet every thrust and you can feel yourself getting closer already. She’s twisting her fingers, not exactly kindly, and you’re a mess, noises falling out of your mouth, doing anything to get her deeper. 

Her thumb swipes at your clit and you let out a loud moan, her other hand coming to clamp over your lips. 

“Gotta be quiet, baby girl,” she says. “Don’t want the whole party to know what a slut you’re being for me, do you?” 

You shake your head but wrap one of your legs around her waist so she can more easily hit the spot inside you that you have trouble reaching yourself. 

She laughs at how needy you are and fucks you even harder, fingers moving at a bruising pace that steals all the breath from your lungs. 

“Daddy, oh my god, please,” you moan, feeling yourself getting so close. Everything is so much more heightened than it feels like when you’re touching yourself, and you can’t believe Agnes is actually fucking you.

“Want to cum all over daddy’s fingers, huh?” Her question makes you even wetter, clenching around her, whimpering. Her eyes are burning into you and you’ve never felt more alive. 

“Please, yes, wanna cum, daddy, just for you.” You’ve never felt so needy, so desperate, in your life. Your entire body is taunt like a lifewire, electricity crackling and making you feel better than you ever have. 

She laughs. “What a naughty brat, making me fuck you at your dad’s Christmas party like this. Just couldn’t help yourself, could you? Had to act out just to get what you want?” 

All you can do is whine as she forces another finger into you, not even burning a little from how wet you are, and your head falls back against the door. Her thumb starts to rub a rhythm against your clit and your walls flutter around her three fingers. You start babbling, saying her name, telling her how good she’s fucking you. 

Agnes’s lips part, a light sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead, and all you can do is gasp as she continues to fuck you so well. You don’t think anyone else will ever compare to her. 

“Cum for me, baby girl, cum for daddy,” she says, and hearing herself call herself that sends you right over the edge. 

You soak her fingers with a loud moan, riding them until the stimulation becomes too much to bear. She pulls out of you and you still mewl weakly at the emptiness. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” She asks and you drop your forehead onto her shoulder and sigh. 

And then you laugh a little at the situation and she huffs too. “I’m great, thank you, Agnes.” It’s the first time you’ve called her by her real name all night and she lets out a little sound that tells you exactly how much she likes it. 

She strokes a hand through your hair and brings you in for a kiss. You didn't realize how bad you wanted her lips against yours until it finally happens. But her tongue strokes into your mouth and you find out just how good she tastes. 

And just how much you want to taste a different part of her. 

Agnes also seems to have a similar idea. Her fingers tighten in your hair and guide you down to your knees. She unbuttons her pants and your throat goes dry as she slides them down her perfect, pale legs. You can see a bit of muscle in her thighs and it makes you want to lean over and bite them, just to leave marks. 

“You’ve been a brat all night, you know,” she says, peeling over her underwear and revealing her glistening pussy to you. Your jaw drops open, absolutely enthralled, needing to have her on your tongue. You nod at her words, not even denying what you did to get yourself into this position. “Running your mouth, saying the most desperate things, acting like such a brat. Well, I think we better put those pretty little lips to some better use, don’t you?” 

You couldn’t agree more, and you tell her that. 

She leads your eager mouth to her cunt and shuts you up in the best way possible.  

[cherryblossombankai]

HIIII

I love youuu

Could you maybe Write headcanons about how Hawks, Dabi, All Might, Enji, Shigaraki, Present Mic and Eraser Head eat pussy? It would be amazing!

You rock my world, baby girl!

Warnings: oral (f receiving), mentions of somnophilia, quirks used for kinky stuff

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network (message me to be added to my taglist!)

Hawks

Hawks is playful at first. He likes teasing you, making you get all flustered for him. This will be achieved by blowing on your pussy or sucking gently on your folds.

Once he really gets into it though, his demeanor changes completely. He almost seems to relax from going down on you. His body goes a little slack and his eyes flutter closed. 

Every so often when you whine his name, he’ll look up at you lazily, his eyes just rolling open to meet yours before closing again. 

He could honestly just stay there with his head between your thighs, suckling and licking at you all night. 

You’ll have to push him away to avoid being overstimulated. 

Dabi 

You have to beg him to go down on you. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he loves hearing you beg. 

This becomes even more apparent when he has you spread open for him. His tongue is lapping at nearly every part of your pussy EXCEPT where you need him most. 

He’ll have your thighs shaking and you’re whining by the time his tongue finally touches your clit.

He’ll spend ages edging you, only to turn right back around and overstimulate you. 

It’s safe to say Dabi decides when you’re done cumming. 

All Might 

His experience with women is pretty limited, so be prepared to spend time having to teach him how to lick pussy. 

One thing about Toshinori though, he is very eager to learn and even more eager to put what he learns to good use to please the special lady in his life.

He’s very gentle at first, but it doesn’t take much for him to get a little too excited. 

As he laps up your nectar, he’ll let out little groans and growls. He gets very into it.

 If he’s lying on the bed, he’ll be grinding against the mattress the whole time. It’s not uncommon for him to accidentally make himself cum this way.

Endeavor

Enji is a very busy man, and he can’t always take the time to indulge with you. So, when he indulges in your body he makes the most of it. 

He’ll get a little nasty about it because he just has to be the best, and nothing gets him harder than hearing you scream his name. 

Any position works for him, even eating you out from behind. He’s particularly fond of having you sit on his face. His hands will be full of your ass, guiding you to ride his face. 

He makes a little bit of noise, mostly growling. 

Sometimes when he gets a bit too worked up he’ll start smoking from his quirk getting activated. He’s even sparked a little before, which of course didn’t go well. 

Shigaraki

He wants to go unhinged. The desire to spread you open and devour your pussy like it’s the nectar of a goddess is unbearable. But because of his quirk, he has to be so careful. 

Having to use so much care and caution whenever he touches you, drives him insane. He can never truly lose himself in you the way he desires. 

So instead, he expresses himself through grunting and growling against your pussy. He may not be able to touch you with all of his fingers but the ones he can use are digging into the meat of your thighs. 

“Tastes so good,” he groans between lapping at your pussy. 

He loves making you feel good. The way you praise him so sweetly and swear he’s the only one who can make you feel this way, it gives him purpose. 

Present Mic 

Let’s just get this out of the way: he’s basically a sex god. 

Present Mic is adventurous and fearless in his pursuit of bringing you pleasure. 

One of his go to moves is to hum against your pussy, using his quirk to make the vibrations intense. His mouth basically becomes a vibrator, and he’ll do this while sucking on your little clit. 

He’s really down to eat you out anytime and anywhere. Kitchen counter, classroom, even in the bathroom stall of  your favorite club. 

His skills are unmatched. Once he’s gone down on you, you’ll never be the same. 

Eraser Head

Aizawa loves eating you out just as much as you love getting eaten out. 

It’s sort of how he unwinds at the end of a day. After going through the domestic dinner routine with you, he drags you to bed. 

He can and will go down on your until he falls asleep suckling on your clit. 

Then he wakes up in the middle of the night, his head on your thigh, and starts all over again. 

He enjoys waking you up with oral, watching your sleepy face contort with pleasure. 

[malum-forev]

Dr. Bee

Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.

Bucky x Nurse!Mom!Reader

Bucky Barnes has many names. James Buchanan Barnes, Buck, The Winter Soldier, Sergeant. 

But on compound grounds, and in hushed tones, he’s usually called an asshole. 

He’s developed quite the reputation. Being difficult is his natural state of being. 

Bucky is constantly late to meetings, doesn’t show up for media days and is always going rogue in missions.

He doesn’t know why he does it, Dr. Raynor says it’s a coping mechanism, but that doesn’t make Bucky want to change one bit. He stays away from people and makes it everyone’s problem when someone decides to talk in his vicinity. 

Sam has tried to talk to him but, as per usual whatever the Falcon says, Bucky does the opposite. Sam’s even tried to convince everyone that Bucky’s like an untrained dog, he needs some kind of exposure therapy. Having people stand up to him and flat out call him what he is, that’s what he needs. 

Sadly for everyone who works with Bucky Barnes, no one has the balls to do it. 

But, everything changed one day. 

Everyone scurried away once the quinjet landed at the Avengers compound. They’d gotten word from someone in Logistics that the mission had gone terribly and the agents had barely come out alive. 

Bucky stormed into the med bay, his heels digging into the floor with such force you’d think it break, only to find it desolate. 

He huffed twice, looking around for anyone who could help with a deep cut on his right arm. 

“Hello?!” He yelled out, his temples throbbing and his left eye twitching. 

Bucky Barnes waited for no one. 

“May I help you?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at the meek voice coming from behind the nurse’s station. His confusion only grew deeper when he didn’t find anyone there. 

A few seconds later a tiny hand popped up, wiggling its chubby fingers at him. 

“I said,” The little voice drew out the last word, annoyed. “May I help you?”

Bucky leaned forward and peeked behind the large desk to find a little girl.

Standing with her hands on her hips, the little girl with pigtails looked up at him with raised eyebrows. 

Her expression turned to one of concern.

“Are you hard of hearing?” The girl spoke slowly and loudly.

Bucky almost had to cover his ears from the shrill and very high tone of the girl. 

“I am not hard of hearing.” Bucky finally responded. 

“Then why didn’t you respond?” Little miss pigtails crosses her arms over her chest. “I asked you: may I help you?” 

His right eye accompanied his left one in twitching.

After he didn’t respond, the little girl scribbled something down on a paper in front of her. 

“What are you writing?” Bucky said through gritted teeth, how can a person so small get on his nerves so quickly?

“I can’t tell you.” She said in a singsong tone. 

“Why not?”

“You’re not my patient.” She shrugs, rounding the nurse’s bay holding a pink unicorn lunch box, coming face to face with The Winter Soldier. Actually it was more like coming face to knee height. “Can’t talk to people who aren’t my patients. Doctor patient villigage.”

Bucky bit his bottom lip to conceal a smile. “I think you mean doctor patient privilege.” 

“How would you know? You’re not my patient.” The little girl swung her lunchbox, skipping all the way to the waiting room. 

He was equally shocked and impressed. This little girl had more balls than most of the agents he worked with. 

Bucky looked around the med bay for anyone who knew the girl. Mom, dad, cousin, hell he’d even settle for a dog. 

With a groan, he followed behind her. Sure, he was a dickhead but he couldn’t let a kid wander around the Avengers med bay all by herself. 

She sat down, opening the lunch box and taking the contents out.

Bucky couldn’t help but think it was cute how her feet didn’t reach the floor. As he came closer, her swinging feet hit him in the shins. 

He let out an obviously fake and over the top groan, throwing himself on the floor. 

The little girl covered her mouth but her giggles bubbled around the room. 

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Bucky asked from his position on the ground. “That really hurt.”

“No it didn’t!” She laughed harder. 

“Yes it did!” 

“I know nothing can hurt you!” She said as her giggles died down. “I know who you are.”

“You do, huh?” Bucky sat next to her.

“Mhm.” She said proudly, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “But my mommy says I can’t repeat the names she calls you.”

Bucky suddenly felt embarrassed. Dickhead, motherfucker, bastard, asshole had a whole different meaning now that he knew the little girl thought they were synonymous to Bucky.

“Well then,” Bucky cleared his throat. “I should reintroduce myself. My name is James Buchanan Barnes but people usually call me Bucky.”

The little girl placed her tiny hand in his and shook it. “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name so, you can call me Bee.”

Bucky nodded his head once, he almost didn’t notice the peanut butter she’d smeared on his hand. “Well Bee, does you mommy or daddy work here?”

Bee shrugs her shoulders. “Can’t tell you.”

He takes a deep breath in. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

“Nope.” She takes another bite of her sandwich. 

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”

“Nuh uh.”

Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Is this because of the doctor patient privilege?” 

“Yep.” Bee smiles up at him and this time Bucky can’t help but smile back. A blooming feeling erupted in his chest. 

Bucky looked down at his hand, trying to find his most surface level wound. Something that wouldn’t traumatize the girl who’s no more than seven years old. 

“Dr. Bee, I need your help. Do you have anything for this cut?” Bucky points to the small cut on his knuckle. She didn’t have to know how it came to be, or who’s cheekbone had caused it.

“Thertainly Mr. Bucky.” Bee’s missing front teeth were responsible for her lisp. She jumped off of the chair and hurried behind the nurse’s station.

She swiftly wrapped his knuckles in gauze. 

“Do you need me to look over your other arm?” Bee asked sincerely.

“I don’t think you can help with this one.” Bucky chuckled, knocking on the vibranium. “Unless you have anti rust spray.”

Bee threw her head back with laughter but the cute sound was cut short by a door slamming open. 

His mind went blank the second he saw her. Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off of her, even his jaw went slack. He tried to memorize every single detail of her. Her hair, her eyes, her body, the blue scrubs she wore. 

“Bee!” She gasped, taking the little girl in her arms. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I told you to stay in the common room!”

“Don’t worry mommy!” She smiles up at the woman who’s taken Bucky’s mind hostage. “I’ve been with Bucky!”

The woman finally looks over at Bucky and he’s sure the world has stopped. 

But reality comes crashing down when her eyes lose some of their light. 

“Mr. Barnes.” She gasps, pulling Bee to stand behind her body. “I’m so terribly sorry about her, she wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Bucky gulps down the nervous feeling in his throat. He can’t help but feel like the biggest idiot in this universe. 

All he’s done for the past few years is be cold, and rude, and now the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, who’s got the cutest most outspoken daughter in the tri state area, is apologizing. 

His brain runs out of words and he just stands there. 

Bucky keeps quiet as the woman sutures up the wound on his arm, he’d completely forgotten about it. 

“Bee’s your daughter?” He manages to speak up after a few minutes. 

The woman nods with a smile, keeping her eyes on his wound but Bucky begs the cosmos she looks up at him, even if it’s just for a second. He wouldn’t care if she messes up, if it means their eyes could meet.

Bucky’s kept himself away from feelings for years. He convinced himself he doesn’t need them. But in a quick thirty minutes, Bee and her amazingly beautiful mother have stirred up more emotions than he’s had in the last two decades. 

“She-“ Bucky clears his throat. “She mentioned you’ve got a wide array of names for me.” 

Her cheeks burned red. “Bee must be mistaken, she’s got a crazy imagination. Always coming up with the strangest things-“

Bucky bit his bottom lip. “I’m used to it.”

The woman gulped, finally looking up at him. 

“I’m really sorry about the names.” She whispers. 

“It’s okay, darling.” Bucky’s eyes travel from hers to her lips. “But for next time, ‘Bucky’ is just fine.”

She nods, looking back to his wound. 

“And you are-“

“(Y/n).” She says. 

Bucky’s sure he’s never heard someone with a name as beautiful as hers. 

“You’re all patched up.” (Y/n) takes a step away from Bucky. “I’ll finish your report, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”

Bucky stumbles on his feet as he stands up. Embarrassed, he walks straight to the door but stops before leaving the medbay. 

“(Y/n)?” He turns on his heel. “Would you please tell Dr. Bee I appreciated her help?”

The light in (Y/n)’s eyes returned as she nodded. 

Bucky left the med bay feeling lighter than ever before and he couldn’t help but think a certain little bee had everything to do with it. 

Comments and feedback is greatly appreciated!!

[absurdthirst]

All American Thanksgiving {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.9k

Warnings: Sex with strangers, protected sex, outdoors sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), restraints, temperature play, begging, submissiveness, face riding, angst, heartbreak

Comments: Working on Thanksgiving leads to meeting Javier Peña.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

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

Javier rubs his cheek as he strides to the door of the diner. It’s Thanksgiving and he volunteered to work. He doesn’t mind sitting in a cop car instead of handling Lorraine and her family like he would’ve had to do. He walks into the empty diner and sits at the counter. You look up when you see him waiting at the counter, surprised anyone showed up on Thanksgiving, but you wipe your hands on your apron and walk along the counter to greet him. “Hey. Happy Thanksgiving. What can I get you to drink?” You ask, taken back by how handsome he is when he looks up at you with beautiful dark brown eyes.

He’s always been a bit of a flirt, but he’s tried to be good while he was dating Lorraine. However, he’s tired of her pushing for a ring, for a proposal. Wanting the wedding that Javi isn’t ready for. She keeps telling him that he can’t keep getting the milk for free when he hasn’t bought the cow. So he decided to tell her he needed a break. Right before the holiday and she keeps calling, her mother stopped him in the grocery store and gave him an earful and her father undoubtedly has been waiting to run into him. “Kind of a slow day, huh?” He asks, glancing around the deserted dinner. “Got any coffee brewed?”

You chuckle, glancing behind you to the half empty pot. “Definitely. It’s what I’ve been surviving on today since it’s been so quiet. Who knew so many people had families to see today?” You tease as you turn to grab a cup to pour him some coffee. “You got stuck with the ghost shift today too?” You ask as you set the cup down on the counter for him.

He snorts. “I volunteered.” He offers. “It was better than spending the day with people I don’t want to be around, talking about subjects I don’t give a fuck about.”

You hum, nodding in agreement, “True. Especially politics and religion. Luckily for me, I don’t have to worry about that because my parents are gone and I’m an only child.” You confess, reaching for a menu to set it down. “Me and the cook back there volunteered to let our coworkers spend the day with their families.”

“That was nice of you.” He watches as you walk away to get the coffee pot, his eyes falling down to your ass. It’s a nice ass, wrapped in your diner uniforms.

You come back, sensing his eyes on you when you walked away, and you smirk as you pour his coffee. He's attractive but you can tell he knows it. "Well, it's starting to feel like it was a good choice." You say as you stare at him appraisingly. "Always liked a man in uniform."

He wings up a brow, leaning back slightly. It’s been a long time since he’s really talked to a woman that wasn’t his family or Lorraine’s and he smirks. “You can look all you want.” He promises. “I don’t mind.”

You like his smirk, feeling your stomach twist with attraction, and you finish pouring his coffee. “See anything you like? On the menu?” You add, offering him a smirk of your own.

“Only the menu is available?” Javi hums. “Damn shame.” He glances down at your hand and sees you don’t have a wedding ring on. “He’s a lucky fucker.”

His words make you hot under your uniform, his dark eyes flicking up to yours and you offer him a soft shake of your head, "there's no lucky fucker. Single as a pringle." You hum, "and you? I'm sure your lady knows she's lucky."

“Single.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Recent occurrence.” Leaning forward, he picks up his coffee cup with three fingers and watches you while he takes a sip, “my real question is how are you single? I bet you get hit on all the time, pretty as you are.”

You chuckle, shaking your head again, "if you count old men and truckers, then allll the time. By someone I'd actually be interested in? Never. Until today." You murmur, resting your elbows on the counter to lean a little closer. "What crazy woman let you out of her bed?" You ask incredulously, eyebrows raised.

He chuckles, appreciating the comment and feeling like it might apply to his ex. She was getting more and more demanding as time went on. “I ran from it, actually.” He admits. “Felt like it wasn’t right.” His gaze turns a little more intense. “She wasn’t the right woman for me. So I’m still looking.”

You hum, "well, her loss and all..." You trail off and look down at the menu, "you want anything to eat, handsome?" You ask flirtatiously, knowing that you are both single. You have no qualms flirting with a sexy man and today has been painfully slow in the diner. You need a distraction.

“Oh, I’m starving.” Javi insists with a lecherous smirk. “And I’ll get something to eat, I guess.” He winks at you and glances behind you when the cook makes his presence known in the kitchen window.

You can sense Adrian's presence but you ignore it to focus on the customer as you reach for your notepad, "what can I get you?" You ask and he glances down at the menu. "All American Breakfast. Bacon, eggs over easy, pancakes." He orders and you nod, writing it down, "hash browns or grits?" You ask and he licks his lips, "hash browns." You nod and scribble down his order, handing it to Adrian who grunts and gets to work. "That should be up soon." You tell him and walk along the counter to grab the syrup and preserves for him to choose from.

“Fuck.” He notices the extra sway to your hips when you walk away from him and it makes his cock twitch. It’s been a slow day and he doesn’t have any calls right now, so he plans to stay and flirt with you until the dispatcher radios him. “Strawberry.” He tells you when you offer him a choice. “Sweet and juicy,  how I like it.”

You giggle, your stomach lurching with attraction and lust from his words, and you bring his selection over to him, setting it down. "So...do I get to know your first name, Officer Peña?" You ask, glancing down at his badge and you know he can read your name on your badge.

“Javier.” He’s spilled a little of the coffee on his thumb so he swipes his tongue across it after saying your name in return. “You have a beautiful name.” He compliments. “Matches your ass.”

You inhale shakily before you breathe out, "now there's a compliment you don't get everyday." You lean over the counter again, watching him as he lowers his hand from his mouth. "You have massive hands." You reach for the one he didn't lick, admiring his thick fingers, "makes a girl wonder where else is big." You flirt, caressing the back of his hand.

Javi’s no fool and that is an invitation as clear as day. Running his tongue over his teeth, he arches a brow as he glances at the kitchen window again. “Why don’t we go have a smoke?” He asks you. “Out back.”

You nod, cunt dripping for this stranger, but you feel like you need this. You spin around to talk to Adrian through the kitchen window. "I'm going for a break." You call out and Adrian waves his spatula over his shoulder to dismiss you. He's never been one with words. You reach behind you to untie your apron and shove it under the counter before you stride down the counter at the same pace he walks until you meet him at the side entrance to the dinner. He pushes the door open for you and you step outside, inhaling the fresh air. "I don't really smoke." You confess, turning towards him just as he reaches for your waist to pull you into his chest. "It's not a cigarette I want right now." He rasps, his hard cock pressing against your hip and you moan, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his face to yours.

Javi leans into the kiss eagerly, having missed the physicality of sex since ending things with Lorraine. He’s almost given in and called her a few times but had resisted so far. Now, he’s wrapping his arms around you and dragging you closer, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth with a moan.

Your tongue slides against his as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through your dress. You moan into the kiss, grinding against him as he walks you backwards towards the wall of the diner and you gasp when he kisses your jaw. “Tell me what you want, hermosa.” He demands and you whimper, “need you to fuck me.” You order, reaching between you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

Javi groans into your mouth, twitching in your hand. “I can fuck you.” He promises, breaking away from your lips to kiss along your jaw. His fingers trail around your hip and push into your panties to find your clit and slide his fingers through your wet folds to press inside you slowly. “Fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.” He tells you as your walls hug his fingers.

His fingers are thick and stretch you, making you moan his name as he starts to work you open on them. You’re dripping wet for him and you fumble with his belt, trying to get his pants open. “Fuck. This uniform is so hot.” You murmur, his gun still on his hip as he pumps his fingers. You finally get his pants open and reach in to pull his hard cock out, moaning at the girth you discover.

He chuckles against your pulse as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them up. Wanting you to feel good when he slides inside you. “So is your uniform.” He pants. “Serving me coffee and pussy.”

“Better leave a good tip.” You tease breathlessly as he presses his thumb against your clit and you pump his cock, loving the way he twitches in your palm. His breaths are hot against your neck and you need him to be inside you. “Javier. Please.” You beg, walls fluttering around his digits as he works you up.

​​“You don’t want to cum like this?” He is halfway teasing but he curls and presses his fingers deeper. Pressing against that spongy spot that has you gasping out his name. “You just want my cock?”

“Oh shit.” You gasp as he presses his fingers against that spot. “Yes. Shit. Keep- keep going. I’m so close.” You pant out your confession as you grind down onto his fingers, your grip on his cock tightening. He chuckles and it makes your stomach clench, sending you over the edge and your knees buckle while you clamp down on his fingers.

Javi’s body pressed against you keeps you upright against the wall. Groaning into your skin while you soak his fingers and he pumps them in and out of you with a squelching sound. Enjoying the way you are whimpering and his cock pulses in your hand.

You try to catch your breath as he works you through it until you regain your senses. You let go of his cock to cup his cheeks, pressing your lips to his after you demand, “fuck me.”

Javi licks into your mouth again, pulling his fingers out of your dripping pussy to reach for his wallet. Always keeping a spare condom in the side pocket, he pulls it out blindly and drops the wallet on the ground in his hast to rip the foil packet open and roll it on.

You shove your dress up your hips and watch him roll the condom down his cock. He’s thick and you would go down on him if you knew him better. “Baby, please.” You beg, whining as he grabs your thigh, lifting it over his hip, and you groan when he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push into you.

Javi doesn’t just thrust into you roughly, but his hips are firm as they press you into the wall. Filling you with a smooth roll of his hips that is taking your breath and making him choke out in pleasure as he bottoms out. “Fuuuuuuck.” The curse is growled into your mouth, following his tongue as it slides against yours and his eyes close at the hot clutch of your cunt around him.

He stretches you out and you grip his shoulder as he starts to move inside you. Your tongue tangles with his and this is pleasure you haven't felt for a long time. He is strong beneath your touch as he rocks into you and you moan, tilting your head back against the wall when he adjusts his hips, "fuck, that's good."

Javi grunts in agreement, moving to kiss every inch of your neck and shoulder that he can reach while he’s rocking into you. His hands around your back, holding you as he thrusts. The jingle of his belt is loud but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care if anyone manages to see you, he’s too focused on how good you feel around him.

Anyone could see you from the road but you don't care. Adrian could come out and find you but you don't give a fuck. Not when Javier is making you feel like this. He thrusts into you, his hand sliding down to your ass and you moan, rocking your hips to meet his, his belt hitting your thigh with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He pants as he fucks you. “I can feel it. Cum for me.” He wants to feel you cum on his cock, needs to feel it because he can feel his own body tensing to cum. It’s been so long since he’s fucked anyone but Lorraine that it’s overwhelming. “Cum for me, baby.”

His words have you falling over the edge. His cock pushes deep and you clamp down on it with a cry. Your nails dig into his uniform as you cum for him, squeezing his cock inside your fluttering walls. “Cu- cum for me.” You plead, wanting to watch him fall apart.

Javi’s jaw tenses. nostrils flaring as his hips snap forward three more times before he is faltering. Burying himself deep with a groan as his cock pulses inside you. Flooding the condom with his seed.

You love the way his jaw clenches as he twitches inside you. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.” You caress his cheek as he works himself through his pleasure until he lowers your thigh from his hip. You kiss him softly and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock as he pulls out of you.

“Fuck.” Javi hisses as he slides the condom off quickly and ties it closed. “Now I do need a cigarette.” He chuckles, shoving the used condom into the trash can and tucking his cock away. He zips up and looks at you as you adjust your panties and pull your dress back into place.

You stumble slightly and he reaches out to stabilize you. “Sorry. Just not used to cumming that hard.” You confess with a giggle and he chuckles, rubbing your arms. “You want your breakfast? Come in and have a smoke and your food.” You tell him, opening the door to the diner and he follows you inside, playfully smacking your ass which makes you giggle.

Javi goes back to his seat, sipping his coffee as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. Watching you move over to the window where his meal is sitting, having obviously been waiting for him. Grinning, you turn back and bring it over to him and he smirks. “Why won’t you get a drink and sit down with me?” He asks, inhaling a drag from the cigarette. “Not like you have a ton of tables to check.”

You glance at the kitchen window where Adrian is cleaning the griddle and you nod, grabbing a cup of coffee for yourself. Your pussy aches a little as you take a seat next to him and he taps his cigarette on the ashtray sitting on the counter. "So what made you want to be a cop?" You ask, eying his badge.

“Didn’t want to be a rancher.” He snorts, picking up his coffee cup and taking another sip before he sets it back down and picks up his fork. “I studied philosophy and criminal justice in college.” He admits, cutting into his pancakes and then picking up the syrup to drizzle over the top. “Don’t see a lot of work for a philosopher around here.”

You take a sip of your coffee and you chuckle, "I don't know. Some people around here need to take a good look at their lives. Maybe you could help them." You tease, "but being a cop...it's a hard job. Not one I'd want to do." You confess, "I bet it's hard to deal with the smugglers."

“Yeah.” He frowns slightly. “I try to prevent as much as I can, but I’m not in the DEA.” He has talked with agents a lot and even been told he needs to apply, but he hadn’t decided if he wanted to leave Laredo or not. His dad would be all alone. He never said it, but he could tell that he had missed Javi while he was in college.

You nod in understanding, “I heard the president talking about stopping the cartels but who knows what will happen. If you did join the DEA, I’m sure every woman in Laredo would miss you in uniform.” You wink, taking another sip of your coffee.

He chuckles. “Yep, I’m sure old Mrs. Murphy will miss calling me out to report that someone’s walked through her flowerbed.” He tells you. “It’s her cat, every time.”

You giggle, “she probably just wants to see a sexy cop.” You tease and he continues to eat his food. “I’d definitely be calling you to my house at every chance and you’d have a different kind of pussy to deal with.” You wink playfully, resting your elbows on the counter.

After scooping up a bite of his eggs, he smirks at you and turns the fork around to offer you the bite. “I’d be having a different kind of meal too.” He promises, that smirk broadening into a grin when you take the bite off of his fork with a look of surprise on your face. “Where do you live?” He asks. “Professionally speaking, so I can keep an ear out for the call on the radio.”

You grin after you swallow the eggs he offered you. “For professional purposes?” You ask and he nods, his knee pressing against yours under the counter. You tell him your address, “so if you’re in the area, stop by.” You wink, “and you can have your meal.”

He arches a brow, making note of the address. It’s not too far from his normal patrol route. “Gotta warn you,” he takes a bite of eggs and then forks up a bite of the pancakes for you to eat. “I’ve got a hell of an appetite.”

“Good thing I can cook up a storm.” You tease, wrapping your lips around his fork to chew on the bite. Adrian had left for his break so it’s just the two of you in the diner. “And I definitely offer dessert.” You wink after you swallow, “you are welcome anytime, officer.”

Javi smirks and nods. “Definitely take you up on that.” He promises. “Although if keeping the handcuffs on is a turn on, I can always use them on you.” He jokes.

“Or I could use them on you.” You challenge playfully and he chuckles, shrugging one shoulder, “never tried that before.” You smirk, “it would be fun. I mean it, you’re welcome anytime.” You promise and he nods just as his walkie talkie beeps. “Come in Peña.” The dispatcher’s voice is muffled but you lean back, knowing your time with him is over.

Javi sighs and rolls his eyes but he reaches for the radio. “Peña here, what’s going on?”

“Domestic dispute. Thanksgiving dinner gone wrong. 112 Sanders Ave off of Clark near the football stadium.” Kathy at dispatch says, knowing Javier is on his break but the woman had been panicked.

Javi is moving, dropping his fork and standing up as he keys his mic again. “10-4.” He says. “Enroute, five minutes.” He goes to pull his wallet out of his pocket and smirks because he had to pick it up off the ground earlier. “Listen, thanks for the food and the company.” He tells you, handing you several bills. Enough to cover the meal and a good tip. “I’ll try to come back.” He promises.”

You nod, watching him shift off his stool. “Let me get you a coffee to go.” You rush around the counter and grab a paper to-go cup, filling it up and you hand it to him. Your fingers brush his and you wish he wasn’t leaving so soon. “I’ll see you around.” You murmur, glad that Adrian isn’t here to see you step forward to kiss his cheek. He smiles and nods, “see you soon.” He says and makes his way out of the diner. You watch him until his patrol car disappears and you sigh, leaning against the counter for several moments until you clean up his plate.

The entire time he’s gone to the call, he’s thinking about the sex, the conversation. He had enjoyed his time with you, more than he could have imagined in that situation. He takes care of that issue, calming down the couple that had been arguing over the man watching the game and not helping out for Thanksgiving dinner. After that, he had a call for fireworks, basically just telling the kids to space out the explosions, and not set them off near buildings so they don’t catch on fire. After that, it goes quiet and he finds himself driving back to the diner to see if you are still there.

You are refilling the condiments, distracted thinking about Javier, when the man himself strides back into the diner. Your eyes widen and you nearly knock over the sugar as you stand up, brushing down your apron. “You’re back.” You declare and he nods, walking over to the counter, “can I get you a coffee?” You ask, heart pounding in your chest.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Too late for that.” He checks his watch and raises a brow. “When do you close tonight? I can’t see too many more people coming if they aren’t already here.”

You check your watch, “in the next fifteen minutes if no one comes in.” You tell him, “you sure you don’t want anything?” You ask as you start to put the condiments away on each table.

He smirks. “Nothing but a date.” He props his hands on his hips and looks at you as you work. “Don’t think we can go out tonight but, what do you say?” He had been thinking about you the entire time he was working and was eager to come back. It’s a step in the right direction and tells him that he was right to end things with Lorraine.

You are shocked that he came back to ask you out but your heart pounds and you blurt out a “yes” before you can even process it. He grins, nodding his head, “I, uh, I’ll give you my number.” You scramble for your notepad and write your number and address down for him. “I have tomorrow off if you, uh, if you’re free. If not, call me and we can figure something out.” You tell him with a smile that won’t leave your face.

Javi grins, taking the slip of paper that you had written his order down on, now having your number on it, and folds it over to tuck into his shirt pocket. “I’m off too.” He tells you. “Perks of working the holiday.” He jokes. “You want to get dinner? Let someone serve you for a change?”

You nod, “that sounds good.” You can’t stop smiling. You truly dreaded coming into work today but Javier has changed everything, making this a great day. “Seven?” You suggest and he nods, stepping closer to you. He glances around to see if Adrian is nearby until he cups your cheek and you lean in to press your lips to his. The kiss is sweet and short and when he pulls back, you cover your lips with your fingers, giggling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, officer.” You say and he chuckles, offering you a wink before he leaves the diner. “He’s going to be trouble.” Adrian calls out for the kitchen, “mark my words.” He says and you roll your eyes, “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You finish your shift with a grin, planning what you’re going to wear tomorrow night for your date.

**** 

Javi hadn’t called that night since you had plans, but he’s pulling his truck up to your address five minutes before seven. It’s been a long damn time since he’s gone on a first date and Chucho had smirked when he had seen his son taking pains with his appearance and applying his new cologne. Now he wonders if he should have brought flowers since he’s already fucked you, but he can’t leave and go get some. Rolling his eyes at his stupidity, he opens the door and reaches for his cigarettes while he waits to knock on your door.

You rush around, making sure you look good. You’d picked a classy but sexy dress to impress him and it’s silly because you’ve already had sex, but you like him. A lot. You want to get to know him more and you want to make a good first date impression. You spray your perfume and when the doorbell rings, you inhale deeply, checking your appearance in the mirror before you open your front door. He’s wearing jeans that cling to his thighs, making your mouth water until you take in his checked shirt and the cowboy boots. Fuck, he looks sexy. “Hey.” You greet him softly, leaning against your doorframe after you open the door.

Javi smiles as he takes in your dress with a slow perusal of your body, up and down until he’s looking at your face again. “Hey.” He murmurs, his eyes already darkening in approval. “You look good.” He tells you. “Real good.” If he hadn’t promised you a date, he would be trying to talk you into bed right now.

His compliment makes you shiver in arousal and you’re tempted to drag him off to your bed but you need to get to know him. You want to know more about him. “Thanks, handsome. Let me just grab my purse and we can go.” You say and leave the door open as you find your purse. “You ready?” You ask and he nods, stepping back after you close the door so you can lock up.

He guides you towards the truck and opens the door for you. “So how do you feel about going across the border for dinner?” He asks. “There’s a great little restaurant on the river that serves the best food you’ll ever eat.”

You nod, “I’m down for anything.” You promise and you get up into his truck, watching him close the door and walk around. He comes across as a strong man and you love that he takes your hand as soon as he is driving down the street. “I’m really happy you came back to ask me on a date. I kicked myself for not getting your number.” You confess, squeezing his hand.

He hums as he guides the truck down the road towards the river. “I had to leave sooner than I wanted to.” He reminds you. “Asshole husband wanted to sit on his butt watching the game instead of helping set up for the entire family coming over.” He snorts. “Poor bastard never spent days making tamales at the table with mama.”

You scoff, “I feel bad for some women. They are completely stuck in their homes doing everything instead of following their dreams, doing what they want. I mean, I work in a diner but at least I’m standing on my own two feet and not dependent on some asshole who doesn’t do shit for my weekly grocery money.”

He finds that refreshing and he nods. “My mama was a “homemaker”.” He tells you. “But she ran our house, our lives.” He chuckles. “Pop would drive mama to the store for groceries because when they were first married he told her he expected the shopping to be done by her.” He shoots you a grin. “She made him eat those words and he ended up loving going shopping with her every week.”

You giggle, “your mama sounds like an incredible woman.” Javier nods, his brow furrowed, “she was.” Your smile drops and you squeeze his hand, “I’m sorry. I lost my parents when I was eighteen to a car accident. They left me their house and that’s how I’ve been able to survive.” You confess, “I- I’m sorry. It hurts. You want to talk to them, tell them everything that happens in your life, but they aren’t there. It’s horrible.” You admit, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears for your own family.

“I’m sorry.” Javi flips his hand over yours and laces his fingers through to hold your hand. He squeezes it gently. “I know you have to miss them. I miss my mama every damn day.” He murmurs quietly. “Don’t ever apologize for missing someone you love.”

You love that you can understand his grief and he can understand yours. It's hard to relate when your partner hasn't lost a parent so you feel even more connected to Javier. He pulls up outside the restaurant moments later and helps you out, his hand on your back as he guides you into the restaurant. You feel protected and you love how he takes charge as he gives his name and pulls out your chair when you sit down at the table.

He tells you what he plans to order, “it’s the best you’ve ever had.” He promises, tapping the menu. When the waitress comes up, he orders two beers after checking with you and then looking back at you as she walks away. “So, tell me how you came to be at the diner?” He asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in there before, but I work odd hours a lot.”

You tap your fingers on the table, “my friend, Pam. She’s well, she was my mom’s best friend and she owns the diner. After my parents died, she was my rock and offered me a job. I planned to go to college but that kind of got pushed aside from grief and I’ve been there ever since. Maybe one day I’ll go to college but for now, I don’t mind working at the diner. I take weird shifts since a lot of the other girls have families. I’m happy to help them out since I’m alone.” You confess, offering him a shrug of your shoulder.

He nods, knowing that he doesn't mind the long, odd hours that come with his job sometimes. Although Lorraine would constantly complain when something would interfere with her plans. Like public safety and criminals would just stop at five when everyone else got off work.

The waitress brings back your beers and you tell Javier to order so you can have the same thing. “I’ll see if your recommendation is up to scratch.” You tease, picking up your beer to clink it against his. “To first dates.” He toasts and you smile, “to first dates.” Javier smirks after he has a sip, “so what happens if my recommendation isn’t up to your standard?” You giggle, setting your bottle down to take his hand in yours, “then you won’t get the blowjob I’ve been imagining since you left the diner yesterday.”

His cock twitches in his jeans. “Blow job?” He asks, sure that you’re fucking with him. “Thought good girls didn’t like to suck cock?” He had stopped asking for a blow job after it was treated like a chore. He had taken the hint, but he damn sure hadn’t gone down on Lorraine either - just sticking to sex. He had counted it as another strike against the relationship. If the sex life dried up and they weren’t even married, what would it look like in ten years? He didn’t want to find out.

You lean closer, lowering your voice, “who said I was a good girl?” You tease and you love the way he inhales sharply. “Baby.” He murmurs and you turn his hand over, tracing circles on his palm, “you’re sexy and capable, why wouldn’t I want to be on my knees for you?”

Javi shivers, feeling his body respond to the promise in your eyes. “Then you’ll be on them later on.” He promises, imagining the way you would look up at him with his cock in your mouth. “And then I’ll see how loud you can scream my name.”

You pick his hand up to press a kiss to his palm before you lower it back to the table, “I’m excited for that.” You murmur, “I, uh, I don’t usually - this isn’t what I do.” You clarify, “you’re the first man I’ve slept with since my ex and I broke up about six months ago. There’s something about you that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.”

“I don’t think any less of you.” He promises, smirking slightly. “I was right there with you, just as guilty.” He winks playfully and tilts his head. “Why did you and your ex break up? Was he just stupid?”

You sigh, “he wanted me to move across the country to Florida. I couldn’t leave my parents’ house. I know it’s stupid but it’s the last connection I have to them. I couldn’t sell it and move. He refused to stay in Laredo and we broke up. He’s dating some girl in Miami now. It wasn’t meant to be.” You confess, “and you? Why did you break up with your ex?”

Javi knows this might be something you don’t like but he sighs. “She was pushing for marriage and wouldn’t listen when I told her that we needed to fix some things in our relationship first.” He tells you honestly. “She kept pushing for me to quit the department, go work for her dad.” He snorts. “I don’t want to fucking sell furniture.”

You nod in understanding, “you can’t just get married without sorting those issues out. That’s a hot ticket to divorce. And you definitely don’t look like a furniture salesman. Annoying fuckers.” You snort, “you need to make the right choice for you otherwise you’ll be too old with kids and look back thinking what the fuck did I do with my life?” You know life is short.

He laughs and nods. “Exactly.” He shakes his head. “What about you?” He asks. “You want kids? The life?” He isn’t opposed to it, but it’s not like he is rushing to find a woman to pump out kids for him. He just kind of assumed they would always one day happen, although one day seemed to be a far off concept.

You shake your head, “I’m not in a rush. I do want to get married, have kids. My parents had a great marriage. They were partners but they - my mom could only have me. They wanted more kids. I would like a couple of kids. A husband. A dog. All of it. But not yet. I am still figuring myself out.” You confess, continuing to trace his palm.

“And what have you figured out so far?” He asks, finding it easy to talk to you. You aren’t playing games, being coy. It’s nice to just talk about things without any expectations or debates about what he should want. He got plenty of that from Lorraine’s family.

“That I am stronger than I thought.” You confess, “after my parents died…I thought I would crumble. But I didn’t. I got stronger and I miss them so much but I’m surviving. I need to find who I am without my grief. I am slowly getting there.” You murmur, “I want to enjoy life to the fullest. That’s my goal. In honor of my parents.”

“That’s a good tribute to them.” He agrees. The rest of the dinner is amazing, both of you talking about everything and anything. Javi tells you some jokes that make you laugh and there’s plenty of flirting as well. Even as you agree that it’s the best food you’ve had. Now you are in the truck parked in front of your house again and Javi wonders if you are going to invite him in.

Javi comes around to open the passenger door and he walks you to the front door of your house, his hand on your back until you turn to face him. You step closer, placing your hands on his chest, “do you want to come in?” You ask, biting your lip, prepared for him to say no and you should be more coy but you want him again.

He licks his lips and nods. "I want to come in." He promises you, happy that he had slipped another condom into his wallet. He presses closer and leans in, kissing you softly before he pulls away. "Open the door, hermosa." He hums, his hands sliding down from your hips to your ass. "This time I want to see you naked."

His words make you grin and you fumble slightly as you grab your keys until you manage to get the door open. You step inside, his hands around your waist as you walk in and he kicks the door shut behind him, spinning you around to press you up against it. You gasp in delight and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging his mouth to yours.

This time he can spend time on you. Stripping you down and feasting on your body while drowning himself in the pleasure of it. Everything blurs in his mind, all his problems fade and you are exciting. You are just as eager as he is. His cock is already starting to hard just from your soft lips yielding to him and his tongue slides against yours as you gasp into his mouth.

His thigh pushes between your legs and you grind down onto him as his tongue tangles with yours. You moan into his kiss, your hands sliding to the buttons of his shirt, starting to work it open so you can touch more of him.

Javi likes that you are undressing him. Likes that you are taking charge even if you are the one with your back against the wall. He pushes his thigh up a little higher as you grind down on it and he can feel the dampness starting to grow. "Fuck." he groans, breaking away and kissing down your neck. "No panties?" He twitches against your stomach.

“I was feeling lucky.” You tease, shoving his shirt open and you caress his chest once his skin is bare. “Shit. You’re so handsome.” You murmur against his hair as he kisses down to your collarbone and you scratch your nails over his nipples, grinding onto his jeans.

Javi hisses your name, hands sliding back up your dress to find the zipper. He doesn't want to just push your dress up again but he needs to touch you. "You are fucking gorgeous." He finds your lips again to kiss you as he drags the small zipper down.

His words make your body heat up and you know he means it, it’s not just to get into your pants. You haven’t even made it down the hall, the chemistry between you sizzles and you arch your back to allow him to pull the zipper down, his shirt hitting the floor when he finally shrugs out of it when you whine.

He chuckles, stepping backs so he can peel your dress down and reveal your bra. "Fuck," his hands cup your tits and he is delighted to find that the snap for your bra is in the front, letting him unclip it easily.

His eyes are dark and you love how hungry he looks as he pushes your bra off your shoulders and cups your tits as soon as it hits the floor. Your hands slide down to his belt, working to open in your desperation to see all of him, feel all of him.

Your hands are hot and eager on his skin, opening his belt with a hunger that jerks his hips towards you as you pull at the belt. "Let me- let me get you to the bedroom." He grunts, knowing that he wants to spread you out.

You nod, knowing you want him in a bed so you shimmy your dress down, kick off your heels, and take his hand to guide him to your bedroom while completely naked. His free hand works on his belt, letting it drop to the floor, and you open the door to your bedroom.

"Cute bed." He hums, noting your flowery bedspread. "Maybe I should have brought my handcuffs to tie you to it."

You smirk, “next time, officer.” You promise and waste no time sinking down to your knees, working on the zipper of his jeans, “now, I do believe I promised you a blow job if your recommendation was good enough and that was the best food I’ve had in a while.” You smirk and lean in to kiss his belly while you open his jeans until you reach in to pull his hard cock out. “Fuck. It looks as good as it feels.” You murmur, gripping him until you lean in to flick your tongue over the drop of precum before you take him into your mouth.

"Oh fuck." Javi's eyes roll back in pleasure and he fights to open them again and keep his gaze centered on you. "You- fuck, you - you are good at this." He pants out, reaching out and caressing your cheek and jaw as you take him deep into your mouth and hollow your cheeks around him. "Fuck."

You moan around him, loving the way he tries to not thrust into your throat but you want it. You grab his thighs, managing to pull his pants down further so you can cradle his balls while you take him deeper, choking when he hits the back of your throat. You splutter slightly and take a deep breath, pushing his cock down your throat as you breathe through your nose.

He likes that you choke but keep going. You don’t care that your eyes are watering and your makeup is smearing. Your eyes are watching him and your mouth feels like heaven around his cock.

“Fuck, “I’m going to cum.” Javi warns, loving how you just hum around him. A few seconds later, he’s cumming down your throat, growling your name and panting breathlessly. 

Pulling off his cock once you’ve swallowed every drop, you love how he is immediately hauling you to your feel and pushing you down on the bed, “It’s your turn.” He smirks, spreading your thighs as he settles between them, finding a pretty shaved landing strip. “You groomed for me?” He asks playfully. “You shouldn’t have.” 

You chuckle, flushing and shaking your head, “just wanted to make sure your dessert was presented nicely.” You tease, watching him settle between your thighs. He kisses your skin and you whimper, “hope you like it, officer.”

Javi smirks and nudges his nose against your clit, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal. You got wet while sucking his cock and he uses his fingers to pull your folds apart to expose the sensitive skin. “Let me show you how much.” He coos before he is sliding his tongue through your folds with a pleased groan.

You whimper, running your fingers through his hair, loving how his tongue feels. It’s wet and hot and makes you gasp when he flicks it over your clit. “Baby.” You whine, “you feel so good.” You compliment, tugging on his hair.

Javi wants to make this good for you. You sucked his cock and your cunt feels like heaven. He wants to see what you look like when you fall apart on his tongue. Eager to see how you moan and thrash around for him as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

It’s mind blowing how good his tongue feels against your clit, sucking on your folds and he pushes his tongue into your pussy. You watch him, shifting onto your elbow to watch him, “fuck, handsome, you’re so good at that.”

He hums against your folds, winking at you playfully from his place between your thighs, his mouth still attached to your cunt. He loves how vocal you are, how sweet the whines are when your thighs tense. His fingers dig into your hips and hold you in place.

You rock your hips against his face as he works his tongue deep in your pussy, your fingers tangled in his hair, and his nose presses just right against your clit. “Fuck. Oh shit. That - that’s it.” You pant, loving how good it feels as he works you up.

He wants you to cum. He wants to see your cunt flutter before he slides inside you. Groaning into you as your fingers tug at his hair and his cock twitches against the sheets. He pulls his tongue out of your pussy and flicks it over your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

"Oh my - fuck!" You cry when he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You love it. You fucking love it. You gasp, thighs starting to shake around his head, and you moan his name when you finally fall apart. You cry out, thighs squeezing his head while you soak his chin.

Javi moans into your folds. He loves when a woman comes apart for him. It’s addictive and he loves that just as much as he loves cumming himself. Lapping at your juices until he pulls away with his mouth shiny with your slick, he kisses your clit and then starts to work his way up your body.

You pant, catching your breath as he kisses up your body, wrapping his lips around your nipple, and his cock is hard against your thigh. You reach down to wrap your fingers around him, pumping his cock, “need you inside me, baby.” You demand breathlessly.

“Fuck.” He groans against your chin. “Do you have a condom in your nightstand?” His pants are too far away for his liking and he doesn’t want to pull away from your grip.

You nod, stretching out after you release his cock to grab a condom from your nightstand. His hands squeezing your ass as you turn onto your side, grabbing the condom. You shove it into his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours to kiss him.

Javi can kiss a woman and open up a condom without looking at it. Focusing on you as he pulls the rubber out and rolls it down his cock. Groaning as he pumps himself a few times to position himself between your thighs.

You moan into his mouth when he starts to enter you, stretching you out like he did the day before behind the diner. "Fuck." You pant against his chin, shifting your gaze so you can watch him push into you. "You're so gorgeous, baby." You murmur, kissing along his jaw after a moment of watching him until he's pressing against your cervix.

He chuckles, thinking that should be his comment to you. Turning his head to press his lips to your and give you a moment to relax before he starts to move.

You let him set the pace, lifting your thighs onto his hips while your hands explore his chest, up to his shoulders, and down his back until you’re squeezing his ass. He’s strong above you, making you feel like the world outside doesn’t exist, and that makes you whimper into his kiss.

Javi is a passionate lover, he pours himself in the intimacy with total abandon. Forgetting everything else but the way you move under him and respond to every thrust.

His thrusts are deep but unhurried, making your chest heave against his, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast and you whine his name. "Feel so good, baby. Better. It's gotten better." You moan, wrapping your legs around him.

Your comment makes him huff against your chin, smirking slightly as he continues to rock into you. “And the next time will be even better.” He teases. “And then even better the time after that.”

"Fuck, you're gonna have me addicted to you." You tease, "gonna need to keep you in my bed every damn day to use your cock." You chuckle when he twitches inside of you. "And I want - God, I want you in it every day."

He groans, completely agreeing with your line of thinking. “Works for me.” He kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. “Pussy feels amazing and you are incredible.” He squeezes your breast gently.

You smile at his words, glad he’s on the same page, and you rock your hips up to grind against him, moaning when his pelvis rubs your clit. “Fuck yes. There.” You pant when he hits something incredible inside you and his pelvis rubs your clit. “Keep - keep going. Just like that.”

He pants, trying to keep his hips angled the same way. Wanting to hear you moan again. “There?” He asks, huffing proudly when you nod. “Yes, just- oh god.” You whimper, making him rock his hips a little harder, knowing you are close to cumming.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ja-" You cut yourself out with a cry as you clamp down on his cock, lost in the sensations of your orgasm while he continues to rock into you as best he can while you squeeze him.

He grits his teeth, hissing in pleasure as he works you through that orgasm. Loving how your walls spasm around him and flutter. Your eyes skip closed and your head tilts back, letting him kiss along your chin as he works you through and pushes towards his own.

The pleasure makes your toes curl and you whimper, walls fluttering around him. "So good. So good, baby. Want - need you to cum for me." You plead, scratching down his back as you rock your hips to meet his.

Your lips meet his and he groans into your mouth, ramping up his thrusts and hearing his hips slap against the back of your ass as he fucks you. Grunting in pleasure as he gets closer and closer.

The moment he falls apart makes you moan into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his when his groan vibrates against your lips and his cock twitches inside of you. You caress his back, letting him rock himself through his climax.

“Fuck.” He hisses, kissing you again and collapsing against you for a moment. He can savor it, rest for a second and not immediately pull away. It’s not like you’re behind the diner this time. He kisses you softly a few more times before he finally reaches between you to grip the base of his cock to make sure the condom stays in place.

It’s impossible to not relax into the sheets beneath you. Your body buzzing from the orgasms and you watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it into the bin near your bed. “Come here, handsome.” You order, dragging him back into your bed so you can pull him close to kiss him. “That’s was so damn good.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair.

He chuckles, his head leaning against the headboard and his arm comes around you as you snuggle against him. “Damn good.” He agrees. “Want a cigarette but I don’t want to move.” He’s relaxed and blissful right now, body humming with pleasure and making him a little drowsy.

“I’d offer you one but I don’t smoke.” You murmur, caressing his chest, “you maybe want to come over for dinner? When you’re free?” You ask, wanting to see him again even if he’s not left your place yet. You want to keep this going.

“When?” He asks, even though he’s not even digested the last meal that you’ve shared together.

“Whenever you’re not working. I work the day shift tomorrow so I'm free tomorrow night. If that’s not too soon?” You bite your lip, wondering if he’s going to get scared off by you being too eager.

He smirks as he looks down at you. “Whatcha making?” He asks playfully. “Have to be pretty good to beat those pancakes and pussy.”

**** 

“Fuck baby, I’ve got fifteen minutes.” Javi grumps against your lips, fumbling with his belt and pushing you against the wall of the diner again. It’s been two weeks since Thanksgiving and he’s been over at your place every night since the first date. Chucho chuckled whenever he saw Javi, sometimes he was only home to wash his clothes or change. “Fuck, pull my cock out and I’ll get the condom.”

You whine when he pulls back and you work on opening his pants to pull his hard cock out of his uniform. “Shit, Javi. Hurry up. I need you.” You plead, knowing you don’t have a lot of time and you want to have him inside you again. You’ve had sex every day since the first day you met, you’re addicted to him, and you desperately need him right now.

“Hurrying, baby, fuck.” He twitches in your hand and nearly laughs in relief when he finds the condom he has stuck in his pocket when he got dressed this morning. He had known he was coming since you are working the late shift tonight and won’t be home until late. Your house feeling like home to him since he’s spent nearly every night there. “Fucking thought about this all damn day.” As he pushes your panties down, he kisses you again and pushes the condom into your hand before he slides his hand between your thighs to rub your clit.

You fumble to open the foil packet, letting it drop to the ground as you work fast to roll the condom down his length despite his fingers working your clit. “Fuck. Me too. All damn day. Think of you whenever anyone orders the breakfast.” You moan, squeezing his length. “Come on, baby. Fuck me.” You plead and let go of him.

He’s shuffling between your thighs and grips your leg to lift it up and position himself before he’s pushing deep. Swallowing your soft cry of pleasure and giving you a groan of his own as he immediately starts to fuck you.

He stretches you out and you whine, tilting your head against the wall of the diner, his lips immediately attaching to your skin there. “Oh God.” You pant, gripping his shoulders as he thrusts into you, still dressed in the uniform you love.

Javi grunts, driving into you over and over again his knees hit the wall behind you. “Fuck baby.” He’s completely wrapped up in you, hasn’t even thought about Lorraine since that second date with you. He’s been happier and lighter since you’ve been with him.

He grunts as he rocks into you, knowing there's a diner full of customers that haven't got a clue that you are outside getting fucked by the handsome cop who came in for coffee and a donut. "So good, Jav." You whimper, lifting your thigh a little higher and he pushes deeper, making you moan. You were wet as soon as you saw his patrol car pull up and you are already climbing to your climax.

“Cum for me baby.” He begs against your pulse, pressing kisses to your galloping pulse and scraping his teeth over your skin. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me.”

You can't deny his request, your pussy fluttering around his cock until you fall over the edge. Gripping his uniform in your fingers, you clamp down on his cock with a cry out his name you can't guarantee the diner didn't hear, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Javi is cumming right after you are. Pent up from thinking about this, about you all day. He’s groaning your name and moving up to capture your lips in a searing kiss as he floods the condom with ropes of his seed as his knees buckle slightly.

You love how he feels when he cums, the way he tenses up, and you slide your hands down, caressing his badge as he pants against your lips. "That was a nice surprise." You smile, "I love when you come to see me at work."

He hums as he kisses you again. “Wanted to come see you.” He admits. “I’ll be back when you close the diner.” He kisses you again and starts to pull out of you gently. “Make sure you get home safe.”

You smile, “my hero.” You coo and watch as he ties off the condom while you pull your panties up and push your dress down your thighs. “I’ll see you later then. You want a coffee to go?” You ask and he nods, playfully smacking your ass once he’s all tucked away. You gasp, smacking his chest, and you walk back into the diner to grab him that cup while Adrian eyes you from the kitchen window. “Here you go, baby.” You murmur as you hand him the cup, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you later, officer.” You love how he winks before he strides out of the diner, eyed by several of the women but you know you’ll be in the one in bed with him later.

At the end of his shift, Javi pulls back up to the dinner again. Parking the car and turning off the engine while he watches you work through the windows. You move with grace, picking up the condiment bottles to wipe down and store for the night. It had been a hard end of shift, he had a young boy die in his arms. A drug overdose. Hours spent at the hospital and plenty of paperwork, but the worst part was telling those poor parents their son was never coming home. He sighs softly as he sets out of the car and leans against the hood, lighting up a much needed cigarette.

You see Javier waiting for you after you lock the front door and Adrian lights his own cigarette. ��That one will be trouble for you, mark my words.” He says and strides off, “goodnight.” You call out to him and shove the keys in your purse, making your way over to Javier. “You look stressed.” You observe, “what happened?” You ask as you step closer to wrap your arms around him.

His arms wind around you and he drags you close, needing your warmth to chase away to sorrow. “Had a kid die tonight.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “Overdosed on cocaine.” He swallows harshly and sighs. “Fucking sixteen years old. In the fucking morgue.”

“Shit.” You murmur, resting your cheek on his chest, feeling his heart pound. “I’m so sorry, baby. That - I can’t even imagine.” You hold each other, knowing how his job takes a toll on his mental health. He feels helpless sometimes and doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, pulling back to look at him.

“I know.” The compassion and worry shines out of your eyes, making him fall for you just a little harder. You are gorgeous, kind, compassionate and warm. Exactly the kind of woman his mother would have picked for him if she had been alive. She would have loved you. He reaches out and cups the back of your neck to drag you to him for a desperate kiss, needing to feel something other than loss.

You kiss him fiercely, wishing you could take away the pain in his eyes, and he’s so damn brave. Not many people could handle that job. You peck his lips when he pulls back, “let’s go back to mine. Get some food.” You caress his cheek and he nods, walking you over to your car. “I’ll see you at home.” You promise and slide into your car. He waits until you’re pulling out of the parking lot to get in his car and follow you to your house.

He hopes that you don’t mind his cruiser outside your house, but you’ve never said a word about it. He doesn’t have the energy to go back to the ranch and get his truck. Drained emotionally and needing something that he can’t say out loud. He needs comforts that only you can provide.

When he walks behind you while you’re unlocking the front door, you nearly drop your keys but you manage to open it. You step inside and groan when you step out of your shoes and throw your purse down. He works on removing his holster, kicking off his shoes, and you turn around when he removes the cuffs. “Give those to me.” You demand, holding out your hand. His eyebrows raise, “you want me to use them on you, hermosa?” He asks and you smirk, “no. I want to use them on you.”

He’s surprised by your answer, but he trusts you. Only frowning slightly as he hands them over and finishes removing his utility belt and radio. He turned it off at the end of his shift, but he’s happy to have the damn thing off. “What do you plan to do?”

“I want you to strip down and I’m going to handcuff you to my bed. Make you forget about everything except how good I’m making you feel.” You explain as you step closer to him, “and I want to make sure you have the key.”

You nod, setting the key down on the counter to make sure it’s safe, and you bite your lip, “strip down. Now.” You order, “I want to see all of you, baby.” He nods, reaching up to start unbuttoning his shirt and you watch him with hungry eyes.

Stripping down is almost cathartic, the weight of his duties sliding off like his clothes. He hesitates on his briefs but you nod. “Those too.” And he hooks his fingers under her elastic band and drags them down so he is standing naked in your entryway. His cock is half hard, but he doesn’t shy away from you seeing him.

You love how strong he looks but you want to break him down, let him take the weight of the world off his shoulders. “Go lay on my bed.” You order, “I’ll be in there in a second.”

He nods, turning and walking down to the bedroom and pulling back the covers to lay in the familiar sheets. He watches the door, getting even harder at the prospect of turning everything over to you and letting you control his pleasure

You strip down to your underwear, leaving him to wait for you, and you grab a cup of ice, bringing it with you along with the handcuffs. You want to take him out of his mind and you love how he looks in your bed, his cock resting on his lower stomach as he waits for you. “Hey baby.” You smirk, striding over to the bed and you set the cup of ice on the nightstand. “You wanna give me a safe word in case you want out of the handcuffs?”

He’s rolling his eyes and snorting. “Let me out of the fuckin’ cuffs.” He chooses, smirking when you huff at him. “I’m good, baby. I promise.”

You giggle, “whatever you say, babe.” You straddle him, loving the way he groans and you grab his wrist, lifting it to your headboard to cuff one hand. You work fast to secure his other hand and you look down at him, “fuck. You look good like this. At my mercy.” You scrap your nails down his chest, loving the way his cock twitches against your ass. You bend down to press your lips to his for a moment until you pull back, reaching for the cup on the nightstand. “What-?” He asks but you shush him, taking a piece of ice in your hand. You shuffle down his body, pressing the ice to his chest, chuckling when he hisses, and you slowly drag the ice cube over his nipple. He clenches his jaw at the coldness but you remove the ice cube and flick your hot tongue over it.

He hisses at the sensation, drawn to the contrast of hot and cold and how it makes his skin ache. You are distracting him, you are his distraction. Blanking out his mind to everything but your touch. “Take off your panties.” He grunts. “Want to feel your pussy on me.” He begs but you just smirk and shake your head. “I’m in charge baby.” You coo, caressing his cheek and dragging the ice cube down the edge of his jaw. “You just lay there and let me take care of you.”

He groans and you giggle, dragging the ice cube down his neck, your tongue following its path. He hisses and you smile against his skin while you circle his other nipple with the ice. It’s melting fast and soon you are flicking your tongue over his nipple while you grab the cup of ice to get another cube. With the new cube in hand, you drag it down his belly, pressing hot kisses in the wake of the cold until you approach his cock. You settle between his legs and drag the ice along the underside of his cock that rests on his belly. He hisses and you smirk, removing the ice to drag your tongue along the same path, taking the head of his cock into your hot mouth.

“Fuuuuuck.” Javi hisses, eyes closing and his head tilts back against the pillows. His arms are stretched above his head and he loves how you are making him forget everything. It’s beautiful, all he can think about is what you are doing to him and how he wishes he could touch you. “Fuck yes baby,” he groans, opening his eyes and looking down. “Try- try the ice in your mouth.” He pants.

You pull off of him, shoving the small ice cube in your mouth then you take him again. The hot and cold are a striking contrast and you groan at the way his cock twitches in your mouth while you drag the ice cube down his length.

“Shit- oh fuck!” The handcuffs rattle slightly as he tugs against them and he can't help but try to rock his hips up. “You are - fuck - you are so goddamn perfect.” 

He would deny he has ever whimpered in his life, but an almost tortured sound comes out of his mouth. Jaw slack and eyes closed again in pleasure as you suck his cock. “Fuck- I want- fuck, I want to lick your pussy.” He groans.

You should deny him. Make sure this is only about him, but his whimper and plea are so delicious. You pull off his cock and shift off the bed, shoving your panties down and taking your bra off. “You want me to sit on your face, baby?” You ask as you straddle his stomach, letting him feel how wet you are. “Please baby.” He huffs and you giggle, shifting up until you’re straddling his face. His hot breath washes over your folds and you lower your cunt to his mouth while gripping the headboard.

Javi can be generous, but he’s more so with you. He’s a little submissive. Something he had never had in a relationship before, something he never even thought about wanting but it seems natural with you. Sometimes you need him to give you what you need and right now, you are giving him what he needs. His tongue slides through your folds greedily, hungry for the taste of you and to give you a bit of the pleasure you give him.

You gasp his name as his hot tongue slides through your folds and flicks over your clit. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, trying not to grind down on his face when his hands are cuffed. You let go of the headboard to squeeze your breast with one hand, closing your eyes at the sensation, and you squeal when he sucks on your clit. “Javi, baby, you’re so good. Such a good boy.”

His neglected cock twitches at that statement and he should be pissed but he’s not. He’s liking it. He groans into your folds. Licking at your clit as much as he can.

You rock your hips, grinding down onto him as you reach back to wrap your fingers around his cock, wanting to feel him twitch in your hand while you rock on his tongue.

Javi groans happily into your cunt, bucking his hips up into your grip. Right here is where he could die happy, buried in your pussy with your hand wrapped around his cock. He’s never had the kind of feelings for someone like he feels for you, wanting to put you first instead of himself.

You work yourself on his tongue and it doesn't take long for you to fall apart above him, squeezing his cock as your thighs smother his face. "Fuck!" You cry, nearly falling backwards as you cum on his face.

Javi chuckles breathlessly, knowing that if he was uncuffed, he would flip you over and push into you right this second. He loves how you cum shamelessly, loving orgasms and sex as much as he does and you don’t play coy or demure.

You pant as you relax above him, releasing his cock from your grip, and you shift off his face. “I’m gonna ride you now.” You tell him, moving to grab a condom from your nightstand. “Gonna need a new box.” You tease as you straddle his thighs, opening the condom to roll it down his cock.

“That’s because we fuck all the time.” Javi groans as you wrap your hand around him and roll the rubber down his length. He smirks. “You’re addicted to my cock.”

“Don’t hear you complaining, officer Peña.” You snort and shift closer until you’re positioning him at your pussy so you can sink down onto him. “Fuck. I am addicted.” You confess breathlessly as he stretches you out. “I love it.” You whimper, shuffling a little until your knees are digging in the mattress so you can start to move on top of him.

“You look good on my cock.” Javi praises breathless. “Feels even better.” He watches your tits bounce slightly and groans when you swivel your hips and clench down around him. “Fuck, one day-“ he pants. “One day I’m gonna feel you without the condom.”

“I’m on the pill. I just - I wasn’t sure what you wanted.” You confess, “you want to feel me bare? Fill me up? Cum inside me? Officer?” You coo as you lean closer, pressing your lips to his chin as you rock back onto him.

Javi groans and chases your lips, huffing out a curse when you pull away from his reach and he can’t drag you back. “Yes, fuck yes.” He hisses. “Want to feel you bare around my cock.”

You know it’s a rash decision but you’re lost in the lust and security that you take the pill like clockwork. You shift back and lift off his cock, pulling off the condom, and you moan as you notch him back at your entrance, slowly sinking down to feel all of him without the barrier between you.

Javi moans your name, his hands curling into fists and he curses that he can’t touch you. “Fuck baby, yes.” He groans. “Just like- fuck- move.” He begs.

You chuckle, loving how wrecked he looks, and you shake your head. You stay still on his cock and he tries to rock his hips but you clench your thighs to stay still. "Hermosa." He whines and you lean forward, pressing your lips to his, "fuck, I love to hear you beg. Now I want to hear you moan." You murmur and rock back onto his cock, starting a pace that makes you look like you're in the Kentucky Derby.

His toes curl in pleasure and his entire body tenses. “Fuck!” He yelps, wanting more and not sure that he can take it. You are perfect, tight and hot around him and like a vice when you roll your hips just the right way. You’re beautiful and he loves it.

You love how wrecked he looks, his eyes glazed over as you rock on top of him. “Feel so good, Javi, baby. Oh shit. Feel like you’re in my guts. I love this.” You pant, your palms slapping against his chest as you ride him.

He’s never been such a passive participant in sex but all he can do is let you ride him, his hips are planted against the bed. His cock twitching every time you slam back down on him. “Fuck you need to cum.” He begs. “Cum baby, I’m not gonna last.”

He’s so whiney and you love it, reaching down to rub your clit, and you moan his name. “Feel so good, baby. I’m gonna - shit. Oh - oh!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and you soak him, loving how you feel every vein and ridge of his cock.

You clamp down around him and his feet curl in pleasure and he can’t help but rock his hips up. Your hips have stalled and you aren’t moving as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck baby, fuck, fuck.” He hisses, feeling his body pulling tight.

You want to see him fall apart, feel it inside you, so you grip the headboard over his head, stretching over his body. You slam your hips down against him, the sound filling the room and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up. Want you to cum inside me.”

It’s like he needed your permission. Rocking his hips up, your name is called out loudly as he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his seed. Panting and whining as he rides out the best fucking orgasm he’s ever had. “Fuuuuuuuck.”

The sensation of his hot cum filling you up has your walls fluttering around him again, a soft cry escaping your lips while you grind back against him. “Oh God.” You pant, shifting to press your lips to his as his cock twitches inside you.

Javi takes control of the kiss even if he can’t pull you closer. His tongue sliding into your mouth possessively and his moans flowing into your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. Only tempering the kiss when you collapse against him in pleasure.

Panting against his jaw, your body is buzzing but you manage to shift off him, fumbling for the key you placed on the nightstand next to the cup of now melted ice. You reach up, wanting to release him from the cuffs, and manage to free him after some struggle to get the key in during your post orgasm haze.

Javi watches you fumble with the key, his smile soft and he lifts his head to kiss right above your breast. “I love you.” He murmurs softly.

You are surprised, eyes widening and you stop what you’re doing to look down at him. He stares back and you see the apprehension in his eyes until you grin, “I love you too.” You surge down to press your lips to his, “I love you.” You murmur between pecks. “Let me -” You manage to finish unlocking his hands, the handcuffs heavy as you set them down on the nightstand.

His arms go around you, pulling you close and rolling you onto your back so he is hovering over you. Caging you with his body. “You have been the best thing to happen to me.” He promises, kissing you again. He’s not a man who gets sappy or waxes eloquent poems or constantly says ‘I love you’ but he shows he cares and he is happy you feel the same way. Feeling like this is supposed to be.

You can’t stop smiling, sliding your fingers through his hair and down his shoulders, “I love you, baby. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” You promise and sigh, feeling safe and warm in his arms. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have met him, to have him.

He kisses you again, rolling over and tucking you into his side. “Give me about ten minutes and I’ll show you how bad I can be.” He teases playfully, closing his eyes and sighing happily.

You giggle, caressing his chest, and you close your eyes. You never imagined you’d find someone like Javier and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. You hope he’s your person.

**** 

“Why are you nervous?” Javi chuckles as he holds your hand, pulling up to the small ranch house. “He’s going to love you.” It’s only two days later, but Javi knows that it’s the perfect time to introduce you to his dad. Wanting this to be permanent and let you get over the big ‘meet the family’ fear that you have.

You squeeze his hand, “I don’t want him to think - we got together so soon after you broke up with Lorraine and I just - I don’t want him to think less of me.” You confess with a shrug, “it’s, uh, it’s important that he likes me.” You bite your lip and look at his childhood home.

“Baby, he’s gonna love you.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “He never really liked Lorraine, to be honest.” He flashes you a grin. “So you’re already better.”

You chuckle, relaxing a little, and you let him open your door before you walk to the front door and Chucho opens it, a big smile on his face. “So you’re the reason my son can’t stop smiling nowadays.” He winks and Javi blushes, “Pa.” He says and Chucho tuts, “he’s never here but I can see why. He didn’t exaggerate your beauty.” He says and you fluster, reaching for his hand and he pulls you in for a hug. You tear up a little, reminded of your father and how long it’s been since you had a hug like this, and you hug him back. “Javi said you are a charmer. I guess that’s where he gets it.” You tease and Chucho chuckles, guiding you into his home, and you immediately feel at ease.

Javi smiles at the way his dad is flirting with you. He would barely talk to Lorraine and it’s just another indicator that he has made the right choice with you. “Let me get everyone a drink while you two talk.” He winks at you and goes into the kitchen.

You sit down on the sofa with Chucho and demand he tells you about Javier and he chuckles, “Oh, I have some stories.” He begins to tell you about a teenage Javier and you hear the phone ring.

Javi rolls his eyes as he picks up the phone. “Peña residence.” He answers like he has his entire life. “Javi.” He groans and turns towards the kitchen door to make sure you don’t hear him. “Why the fuck are you calling, Lorraine?” He demands quietly.

“I’m surprised I got you. I’ve heard all about your little diner skank that you’ve been fucking. My friends have seen you around town. Told me all about your little dates. You never took me bowling.” She huffs and Javier rolls his eyes, “what do you want?” He demands again and she snorts, “I was calling to tell you I’m pregnant. I just found out. Went to the doctor to make sure and I’m about ten weeks.”

Javi’s stomach drops, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. “Bullshit.” He huffs, “we used a condom every time.” Lorraine scoffs. “You know it’s not one hundred percent.” She reminds him and he shoves his hand through his hair. “So what? You need money for an abortion?” He asks, hoping that she wants to get rid of the baby.

She scoffs, “I’m not getting rid of it. I’m keeping the baby.” She declares, “and I want us to meet. Try and work this out. I know your dad will kill you if you don’t stand by me, do the right thing. You need to take responsibility for your actions, Javier.” Lorraine announces and hears his heavy breathing through the phone.

Fuck. Javi’s eyes close and he screws his face up in anger and confusion. She's right, Chucho would kill him. “Goddamnit.” He hisses, angry at himself because he’s going to have to break up with you. “Yeah, fine.” He spits out. “Tomorrow.” He hangs up the phone and sighs.

You are laughing at something Chucho says when Javi walks back into the room, looking a little pale. “Everything okay, babe?” You ask and frown when he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah.” He murmurs and hands you a coke and his pop a beer. “Everything’s good.” He shrugs. “Got asked to take a double shift tomorrow.”

You nod, not sure if you believe him, but you can ask him later and you watch him as you sip your drink. He’s tense, like when he’s had a bad shift, but you try to focus on Chucho, wanting to make a good impression. Soon enough, you’re saying goodbye to Chucho with a promise to see him for dinner and Javier guides you to his truck to drive you home and you’re hoping he stays the night again since you don’t have an early shift. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, reaching out to caress his arm as he drives, “you seem so tense. You need a blowjob?” You tease, sliding your hand down to his lap.

“No.” He grabs your hand before you can touch his cock and laces his fingers with yours. “No, I’m good, baby.” He promises you. “I just have a headache.” He’s fucking praying that this is some kind of horrible joke or desperate attempt to get him back and he can tell her to fuck off and then explain everything to you. “I’m sorry I’m not better company tonight.”

You stare at him until you nod, “it’s okay. I have some Advil if you want.” You offer but he shakes his head, “I think I need an early night. Too many damn long shifts.” He says and you bring his hand up to kiss the back of his. “Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you later.” You promise, not wanting him to get sick because he’s working too hard. He pulls up outside your house and you shuffle closer, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. “It was great to meet your dad. I really like him. Good thing when I love his son.” You smirk and nudge your nose against his when he turns towards you.

“I love you.” The gruff words come out a little desperate, like he wants you to remember that in the future. He kisses you, devouring your mouth in one last kiss like it will be his last and he hates to break away. “Goodnight baby.”

You peck his lips, “goodnight, handsome.” You pat his chest and grab your purse, shifting out of his truck and you make your way to your front door, feeling his eyes on you as you unlock your door. You wave to him before you step inside and he sits there for a second until he finally pulls away. He needs to speak to Lorraine.

**** 

It takes him two days to call you. Swallowing harshly as the phone connects, his heart leaps when he hears your voice but he hates what he has to do. “Hey, it’s me.” He announces. “Hey baby, I’ve tried to call you.” You pout softly, and he closes his eyes. “Yeah I know. Listen - I, this isn’t working out. Okay?” He tells you. “I’m not gonna string you along. So yeah.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut when you hear his words. You choke, trying to get your voice to work, “I- I don’t understand. What’s - why?” You blink, trying to stop the tears. “It’s just too much. I don’t want anything too heavy. I want to have fun.” He lies and you frown, “I didn’t want - I didn’t - okay.” You choke on a sob, “uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He hums, “yeah. Goodbye.” He says your name and the line goes dead. You sob, letting the phone hang from the cord and you collapse on the wall.

**** 

“Why the fuck do you want to go here?” Javi protests, pulling away from Lorraine as she steers him towards the dinner. “What does it matter?” She smirks at him and reaches for his hand again. “You’re through with her, right? So she’s just a waitress.” Javi shakes his head. “Goddamnit Lorraine.” He hisses and she pouts, stroking her flat stomach. “Don’t curse, it’s not good for the baby.” She’s been smug about their relationship, happy that he is back with her, even if she knows that he is unhappy. 

You are clearing a table when the bell above the door rings and your eyes widen when you see Javier and Lorraine. “Son of a bitch.” You mutter, unable to believe he’s back with her. He told you stories about how she would bully him into working for her dad, or calling in sick. She is controlling and you can’t believe he’s gone back to her. Maybe you were just a bit of fun. Your coworker offers to take the table but you shake your head, knowing you can’t run and hide. You walk over to their table and set some menus down. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You ask after you introduce yourself, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you look at Lorraine.

“Baby, what should I have?” She asks coyly. “You’ve been here so much more than I have.” She flutters her lashes at Javi and he huffs, pulling his hand away when she reaches for him and leans back. “Just order a fucking drink.” He hisses, wishing that she had chosen any other restaurant in Laredo, but he’s sure she’s done this on purpose.

“I can’t have coffee. Maybe decaf.” She hums and you nod, “I’ll get you a decaf.” wondering if she has sleeping issues. You grab Javier a coffee without him asking and set them both down on the table after you breathe deeply at the coffee pots. “Can I get you anything to eat?” You ask, trying not to cry at how insane this situation is. “There’s a lot of things I can’t have but I’m starving. I’m eating for two.” She grins, placing her hand on her lower stomach. Your eyes widen and you nearly drop your pad, feeling like your heart has been crushed and you finally look at Javier.

Javi wants to just disappear, his eyes find yours and he begs you to understand. “Ten weeks.” He chokes out, wanting you to know that he didn’t cheat on you. This is a fucked up situation and he wishes it was you sitting opposite him.

You swallow harshly, knowing he got her pregnant just before he met you and it stings. You want to crawl under the table and sob but you won't give Lorraine the satisfaction. "Co-congrats." You offer him a weak smile and she beams, "we are so happy." Javier doesn't look happy but you tap your pen on your pad, "food?" You choke and Lorraine hums, ordering the oatmeal and Javier orders the All American just like he did the first time you met him. "Coming right up." You squeak and slam the ticket down for Adrian who offers you a look that says "I told you so" and you rush out the back door, covering your mouth as you try to not cry.

“Where are you going?” Javi is halfway out of his seat when Lorraine grabs his arm. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He hisses, jerking his arm away from her. “Quit being a bitch.” He turns around and strides towards the back door, bypassing the bathrooms.

The door opens and you are leaning against the wall when you see him walk towards you. "Don't" You plead, shaking your head. "Don't make this worse. Just go back in there and - and be with her." You plead, knowing that hearing his excuses will make you cry.

Javi stops and takes a breath. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He promises you. “I’m so fucking sorry, hermosa.” He whispers before he turns back around and leaves like you want him to.

You watch him go until he heads back inside and you tilt your head back, refusing to let the tears fall and give Lorraine the satisfaction. You know he didn't cheat on you and that's what makes this worse. You love him but he has to be there for his child. Javier isn't the kind of man to walk away from responsibility and you know that's what he is with her. Time wasn't on your side and that's tragic. You compose yourself and walk back in, grabbing the food from the hot plate and you set it down. "Enjoy." You say flatly and walk off, leaving them to eat. When they are done, you remove the plates - Javier's food is hardly touched- and set the check down, not saying a word. Javier grabs his wallet and sets down more cash than the check. You don't walk over there to grab it, watching as Lorraine makes a show of getting out the booth and placing her hand on her stomach like she's seven months gone. "Thanks so much." Lorraine smirks, "maybe we will be back here with our baby for breakfast after church. We will see you then." She chuckles and grabs Javier, his eyes meeting yours and he nods before she is dragging him from the diner. You don't see Javier again. You decided, just before Javier's wedding day, to go on a trip. Get out of town and escape from the news that your love had gotten married. You don't hear the news that he didn't marry Lorraine until you return. When you're back. you hear that Javier had left to go join the DEA. Timing was never on your side.

**** 

“Where do you want to go eat?” Chucho asks and Javi shrugs. “Don’t know too many places open on Thanksgiving.” He answers, although he immediately thinks of the diner. He’s driven by there a few times in the days since he’s been home, but he’s never stopped in. “Well, damnit, I’m hungry.” His dad grumbles and Javi shakes his head. “Come on.” He huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Since you didn’t go grocery shopping, let’s go somewhere. Maybe they are still open on Thanksgiving.”

You smile at the old man who gives you a large tip for the holiday. You shove the money in the tip jaw to be split between you and Adrian when the bell rings. You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Chucho followed by a man you haven't seen in years. You inhale sharply, walking over to them. "Chucho. It's good to see you." You smile at the old man who you've seen at the store and around town several times. He never tried to justify his son's behavior and you never held malice towards him. "Happy Thanksgiving." You say and glance around, "pick any table. I'll get you some menus."

Javi stares, unable to believe that you are here. It’s like he’s dreaming like he has so many times before, coming into the diner to find you waiting for him. He murmurs your name and nods. “Good, uh, to see you.” He tells you, his heart pounding but you have to hate him, or at least think he’s an asshole. He is an asshole for what he did to you.

You finally look at him and God, he's still so fucking handsome. He has more lines on his face, but he still makes your heart pound. You hadn't heard about a child being born so you don't know what happened but you had heard Lorraine is now married to some big wig oil guy living in Dallas with two kids. "Good to see you." You murmur, turning around to grab some menus.

Javi’s eyes drop down to your ass before he looks away guiltily. He doesn’t need to be eying you like he had a chance, you’re probably married and have a couple of kids by now. “You shouldn’t have let that one get away.” Chucho tells him, having watched the way his son watched you. “Colombia might have been different.” Javi sighs and leans back. “Yeah, I know.” He grunts, glancing back at you as you come back with the menus, “believe me.”

You set the menus down, “coffee?” You ask and both men nod. You walk off to grab the pot and two cups, hating how your stomach feels like lead around Javier. It’s been years but you still think about him. You’ve been in and out of relationships but no one ever stuck in your heart like Javier did. Ridiculous considering you were together for two months. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask, grabbing your pad.

Chucho orders the Thanksgiving special and looks towards his son. Javi doesn’t even glance at the menu, too busy staring at you. “The All American if you still have it.” He tells you softly, glancing at your hand and noticing that you aren’t wearing a ring. You might just not wear one at work, but he’s selfishly hoping you are single even though you deserve someone to love and worship you.

Your heart twists at the familiar order and you nod, “hash browns, not grits.” You remember and he offers you a soft smile that makes your throat tighten. “That’ll be right out.” You nod and take the menus, handing the ticket to Adrian. “She owns the place now.” Chucho tells his son, not having spoken to him about you until today.

Javi’s brow shoots up and looks over at your back, watching as you methodically organize the condiments to bring over to them. “She deserves it.” He murmurs, thinking that you deserved a lot of nice things in life. “How often do you come here?” He asks.

“Couple of times a month when I want breakfast.” Chucho confesses, “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business. She’s a good girl and I think you made a huge mistake letting Lorraine drag you along but it wasn’t my life. She is single, in case you were wondering. No husband or kids.” Chucho reveals quietly, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Pa.” Javi hates how his entire body thrills at the news that you are single. “She hates me. She has to fucking hate me after what I did.” He reminds his dad. “There’s not a chance in hell I would ever have another chance with her.” He watches as you turn back towards him and swallows. “Shit.”

You set the condiments down, feeling Javier’s eyes on you, and you smile at Chucho, “it’s good to see you again.” You tell his father, “your food will be out soon.” You walk away from the table, feeling Javier’s eyes on you and you reach for the menus, deciding to clean them off while you wait for their food.

“The least you could do is apologize.” Chucho huffs, making Javi’s shoulders round slightly. He knows that he owes you an apology and he sighs after a moment, tapping the table and standing up to walk over to you. “Can I talk to you?” He asks, sure that you will tell him to fuck off.

You glance at the empty diner and nod, gesturing for Javier to walk out the back door with you. You will let him give you his explanation, curious about why he didn’t end up marrying Lorraine. “Talk.” You order when you’re outside.

He’s nervous, rubbing his hands on his jeans and chuckles slightly. “Uh, so- uh, I owe you an apology.” He starts off. “I’m sorry. Lorraine called me, that day you met Pa and she told me she was pregnant.” He explains, knowing that it’s no excuse. “I was - shit, I was so angry at myself, because she wanted to get married for the baby, and I fucking just knew I had to marry that bitch.” He sighs. “And?” You prompt. “The night before the wedding she claimed she ‘had a miscarriage’.” He snorts. “I knew then that she had been faking the entire thing. Her cousin confessed. She knew we were together. Someone had see us out in town and she lied because she knew I wouldn’t shirk my responsibilities.”

You cross your arms, letting him sweat. You’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened. You huff, “did you not get her to take a pregnancy test?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she had a scan and a doctor’s test result.” You snort, “she’s inventive. Smarter than I gave her credit for.” You rub your forearms, “you really hurt me. I thought we had something. I really loved you. You devastated me and I had to work hard to recover from that, which is insane because we only dated for two months. You’ve been on my mind during every date I’ve been on. Compared every man I’ve been in a relationship with to you. I hated you for so long because you haunted me.” You shake your head and lower your arms, stepping back.

Javi sighs softly and doesn’t reach for you. “It’s safe to say you haunted me too.” He admits. “I- I came by your house.” He confesses softly. “The day I- my wedding day. I came to tell you how stupid I had been. How I wasn’t marrying her and that if you could take an idiot back, I would love you forever.” He flashes you a rueful grin. “You weren’t home that day. Or any day for the week that I came to your door.” He snorts. “Almost thought you had sold the house and moved.”

You stare at him, seeing the truth in his eyes, "I left town. Went away so I didn't show up at the church and try to get you to call it off." You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head. "I loved you so much I even considered telling you I'd be there for your child with Lorraine but I didn't want to be selfish and break up a family. I left and when I came back, I heard you'd joined the DEA. figured something had happened to the baby and you'd left Lorraine."

“Never was a baby, just a woman jealous that I had moved on.” He shakes his head. “I haven’t even dated since then.” You snort in disbelief and he nods. “I’m serious. I- fuck-“ he shuffles slightly in embarrassment. “I paid for sex when I needed it.”

Your eyes widen, "you paid for sex? You could've gotten sex for free every day night here." You chuckle and he shakes his head, "did it for intel on Escobar and for company, I guess." He shrugs and you smirk, "guessing you learned a few things down in Colombia?"

Javi smirks back at you and nods. “I have.” He admits. “Gave me a discount if I made them cum more than once.” He jokes.

"You must've gotten it nearly free." You playfully roll your eyes, remembering how good he was. "I've missed you. You look - you look like you've got the world on your shoulders." You observe, "not as carefree as I remember you."

“Colombia was tough.” He admits, shuffling slightly. “I’ve missed you too. A lot.” He had thought of you every day but figured that might be a little creepy. “You look good. Happy. You bought the place?”

“Yeah. Took some equity from my parent’s house to buy it when the old owner wanted to sell. I couldn’t imagine working anywhere else and I love it. It’s home for me.” You smile, glancing back at the diner. “I’m happy but not as happy as the time I spent with you.”

“Me neither.” Javi shuffles again and looks down at his feet before peering back at you. “I have no right to ask, and tell me to go to hell if you want, but how about I take you on a date?” He offers. “You might find I’m a miserable son of a bitch and the best thing I ever did for you was leave.” He shrugs. “And then you’ll at least get dinner out of it.”

You are shocked and bite your lip, uncertain of giving him a chance after how much he hurt you but you remember it wasn’t him, it was Lorraine. You nod, offering him a soft smile, “I’d like that. Just - just don’t hurt me again.” You plead softly, “you want to go get your food? It should be ready.”

“Only if you sit down with us?” He asks, smiling in relief that you are willing to give him another chance. Those two months were the best of his life and he still loves you now. Your memory helped him through some tough times and you didn’t even know it.

You nod, “okay.” You open the back door and Javier follows you inside. Adrian has the food ready so you grab it, carrying it over to the table, and Javier sits down, winking at you. You head over to grab a cup of coffee, “Adrian. You can take a break.” You tell the cook who grunts and eyes Javier through the window. You make your way back to the table with your cup of coffee and you take a seat next to Javier. Chucho’s eyes widen and you smile, flustered by the knowing look on the old man’s face.

“You apologize?” Chucho huffs and Javi rolls his eyes. “Yes, pa, I apologized. I have a lot to make up for.” He glances at you and smirks. “But I’ll grovel as long as I need to.”

You look at Chucho, “he has a lot of grovelling to do.” You tease and Chucho nods, “he absolutely does.” He raises his eyebrows at his son as he cuts up his food. After they eat, you clear the plates and Chucho goes to take out his wallet, “it’s on the house. Happy Thanksgiving.” You smile and Chucho shakes his head, “she’s always giving me free food.” He opens his wallet and pulls out some cash, “get yourself something nice or put it in the tip jar.” He says and it’s clear this is a routine the two of you have.

“How long are you going to be open for?” Javi asks after Chucho makes a comment about being out in the truck and leaving his son behind.

You glance at the clock, “not too much longer. I like to shut earlier on Thanksgiving nowadays.” You admit, “give Adrian time with his boyfriend and I was planning on having a bath.” You chuckle, “got myself some new bath bombs.”

Javi frowns for a moment before he understands. “Oh, those little fizzy things, right?” He asks, not having taken too many baths. He mainly sticks with showers. “That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be able to unwind.” He comments. “You still have the day after Thanksgiving off?” He asks. “Or does the boss work all the time?”

“I have Jean opening tomorrow so the boss has the day off. I was thinking about doing some Black Friday shopping. Unless someone else would like to do some groveling?” You hum, tilting your head at Javier.

He grins at you. “I think I should probably start, don’t you think?” He asks, shrugging slightly. “I can hold your bags if you want.”

“You hate shopping.” You remember and Javier chuckles, “exactly. Part of the grovelling process.” He winks and you smirk, looking at Chucho who is grinning. “Very well, Peña. Pick me up tomorrow at 10am. Bring your badge. I think it could come in handy in standoffs for the good stuff.” You wink and Javier snorts, “it’s a date.” You smile, “yeah. It’s a date.” You murmur softly, heart thumping again.

**** 

You hadn’t been lying when you said you wanted to go shopping. You’ve dragged him to every store in town, but Javi hasn’t complained. He’s let you shop and given you his opinion as you look through different items. The grin you throw at him occasionally tells him that you are testing him, but he just smiles back and offers to hold whatever bag you are carrying.

When you pull up outside your house, you turn towards Javier. He’s told you some things about Colombia during the day and you can see how haunted he is by his time there. You haven’t pushed but he’s not the Javier you knew, he’s deeper, darker, but there’s times where you see the funny, lighthearted Javier you loved and you know you’ve changed too. You still love him but now there’s more to love, no matter how dark those parts may be. You turn to look at him, “I think I need help taking all these bags into the house.” You hum, grabbing your purse.

“Of course.” He climbs out of the car and opens the back door. You’ve also got a ton of shit in the trunk, but he doesn’t complain as he starts to pile bags onto his arms. Hopefully he can get it all in two trips. Maybe three with that new coffee maker you bought at Belk.

You grab some bags and make your way to your front door, unlocking it, and you punch in your alarm code while Javier walks in behind you to place your bags down. You walk into the house to turn on the lights while Javier finishes his last trip for your things. He shuts your front door and you walk over to him, “thank you for doing that. Very good groveling.” You tease, placing your palms on his chest.

He huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes at you. “At least you’re having fun with this.” He tells you. He licks his lips and his eyes slide down to your mouth before he looks up again. “You need me to do anything else for you?” He asks, voice dropping slightly.

You bite your lip, knowing you shouldn’t rush into anything but you’ve lost so much time with him thanks to Lorraine. He left to go fight the bad guys in Colombia and you can’t blame him for doing what he thought was best. “You could kiss me.” You murmur and he nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

Kissing you is like coming home. Javi groans as you soften against him, folding you up in his arms and deepening the kiss. Almost fearful of being rejected he takes his time and slowly slides his tongue against your lips to beg for entrance.

You eagerly open your mouth, your tongue sweeping against his and his groan vibrates against your lips. The kiss makes your heart flutter and you slide your hands to cup his cheeks, pressing yourself against him and you’re brought back to that first night you slept with Javi.

Kissing you know is just as addictive as it had been so long ago. Maybe more so because he knows exactly what he has. He curls you into him, eager to taste every bit of your mouth and overwhelm you both with the passion the is mounting.

​​You can tell he’s changed. His kiss is harsher, more desperate, and you can sense the turmoil behind it compared to the playfulness of so many years ago. You let him back you against your front door, your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt while he hardens against your thigh. You whine when he pulls back from your lips, kissing down your neck while his hands fumble with the button of your jeans. You moan when his fingers slide under the denim, finding your clit, and you manage to get his shirt open, trailing your hands along his chest.

He needs to pull away and ask if you are okay with this, if you want him, but he can’t. Too afraid of rejection right now as his fingers caress your folds and rub circles on your clit. He promised you he would grovel and he huffs to himself as he kisses down your chest and mouths at your breast over your shirt and bra, biting sharply before he’s sinking down to his knees in front of you.

You look down at him in surprise, shocked that he’s on his knees, working on pulling your jeans down. “What are you doing?” You ask breathlessly and he looks up at you, smirking, “I said I’d grovel on my knees.” You chuckle, nodding as you step out of your jeans and he hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down. “I’ve missed you.” You gasp when he leans in to kiss your thigh.

“Missed you too.” He groans. “Missed this pussy. Your taste.” He presses his nose to the thatch of hair between your thighs and inhales. “Your smell. You have the best fucking smell, baby. Missed your laugh. Your smile.” Everything that he lists is punctuated with kisses around your pelvis and thighs. “The way you would curl against me to sleep.” He looks up at you. “I wasn’t lying to you, I loved you. I still love you.” He promises. “I never stopped.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him. No one has ever compared to him and you know you'll always love him. You run your fingers through his hair, "me neither. Always loved you." You promise and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. "Fuck." You pant as he flicks over your clit, his hands grabbing your ass to tilt your hips. You lift your leg onto his shoulder and you whimper when he wraps his arm around your thigh, burying his face in your cunt.

He’s sloppy and eager, rushing to make you moan his name again. He has dreamed of that sound for years. Closing his eyes and humming as his tongue flicks over your clit again and moves lower to push inside your wet walls. Drowning in your essence happily as he grovels before you.

It's been so long since you were worshiped like this and you tilt your head against the door, closing your eyes. "Fuck, Peña. Missed that tongue. You've gotten better." You observe, loving how he laps at you and it doesn't take long to work you up. You're soon panting, chest heaving, and your thigh shakes when he sucks on your clit. "Oh fuck!" You yelp, stomach twisting as you fall apart on his tongue.

His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as your knees threaten to buckle and he moans into your cunt. Working you through it with determination until you’re whimpering and then he’s pulling back with a satisfied grin. “Still tastes so good.” He praises, kissing your hip.

You drag him up from the floor, lowering your leg and you press your lips to his while you push his shirt off his shoulders. "Bed. Want you in my bed." You order, letting his shirt drop to the floor as you grab his hand and drag him to the same bedroom he knew those years ago.

He chuckles as he lets you take him wherever you want to go. “I want to be in your bed.” He promises, reaching out with his free hand and snagging your waist to drag you closer and pressing his lips to your again. Sliding his hands up your back to unclip your bra beneath your t-shirt.

You let him pull your shirt over your head after he breaks the kiss, dragging your bra down your arms, and you toss them to the floor as you stumble into your bedroom. "Fuck, you've gotten more handsome." You observe when he pushes you onto your bed and you bounce while he works on taking off his jeans as he kicks off his shoes.

​​“That’s you.” He huffs. “Prettier than the day I met you.” He kneels on the bed after he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it. “Fuck- I - I don’t have a condom.” He groans, eyes slipping closed. “I’ve been tested, but I-“

"I'm on the pill. I'm clean. I trust you. Please Jav. I need you." You know it's reckless but you want to feel him again. "If not, I have a condom." You add, wanting him to be comfortable and you bat his hand away to pump his cock.

“Fuck, you know I want to feel you.” He groans and rolls his hips into your firm grip. “Lay back and spread your legs, baby.” He begs. “Let me fuck you.”

You nod, spreading your legs, and he shuffles closer. When he notches himself at your pussy, your eyes flutter closed when he pushes into you. “Look at me.” He demands gruffly and you whimper, opening your eyes as he shifts to hover over you. You immediately cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth down to yours. You shouldn’t forgive him for breaking your heart but you need to. He was trying to do the right thing which was being with the mother of his child but you know he didn’t love her, he loved you.

Javi gives you everything in the kiss. Everything he has emotionally. Pouring himself into you as he slowly inches into your body. Sliding into your heat and feeling like he's come home again.

You caress his shoulders and down his back, loving how he feels. Your walls flutter around him as he stretches you out and you close your eyes, “love you, baby.” You murmur, feeling surrounded by him and you love how he starts to move. He feels more experienced and stronger but you don’t mind.

“Feel so good, so perfect.” He grunts, trying to keep from thrusting too deep or too hard so quickly. You probably haven’t had sex in a while and he doesn’t want to make even a second of this uncomfortable.

You can see how tense he is with the way he clenches his jaw and you want him to fuck you, to claim you. “Need more. Want you to make me yours.” You order, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Once you give him permission, Javi lets himself go. Snapping his hips harshly and filling you with hard strokes that gave him grunting as you clung to him. “Fuck, fuck.” He hisses. “Need this, need you.”

He takes your breath away as he thrusts into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Your heels dig into his ass and your nails scratch down his back. “Javi!” You cry, watching his nose flare as he rocks into you. “I- shit - so close. Keep - just like that.”

He grunts, it’s all he can do right now as he rocks into you. Feeling like your walls gripping him is his salvation and losing himself in the soul searing pleasure.

Your walls flutter around him as you are pushed higher and higher. His lips press against your neck, shifting his body to kiss down and take your nipple into his mouth. It’s hot and he bites down, making you react immediately. You clamp down onto his cock, your moan of his name echoing in your room as you soak him.

It’s what he needed to feel. The hit clench of your walls around him, the slick drenching his cock. Javi groans your name, pushing deep as his thrusts falter and he starts to pulse inside you. Closing his eyes and your name becomes a prayer on his lips.

You kiss everywhere you can reach as he twitches inside you, painting your walls. He pants when he stills above you and you caress his back, your body buzzing with emotion. Tears sting in your eyes and you sniff, making him jerk his head up to look at you, “did I hurt you?” He asks immediately and you shake your head, “no. No. I’m just - I’m happy.” You murmur, “so happy that you’re here.” You confess and he kisses your lips, nudging his nose against yours before he kisses your forehead. “I’m not leaving.” He promises and you caress his cheek, closing your eyes. “I’m home, baby.” He vows. 

**** 

“Javi!” You call out, “can you get your Pa another beer?” You ask and Javier comes back from the kitchen to set a beer down on the table for his father and he sets your glass of wine down on the table. “Thanks babe.” You peck his lips when he leans in to kiss you and his head caresses the baby that you cradle. “How is he?” He asks and you smile, looking down at the baby. “Fed and ready for a nap with his daddy. Mama needs her wine. Good thing I have milk stored.” You chuckle and you adjust the baby in your arms to slide him into Javier’s arms so you can tuck your breast away. 

Chucho looks away to be polite and Javier carries the baby into his room, laying him down in his crib. He watches his son for a moment and caresses his cheek, grabbing the baby monitor. He walks back into the dining room and sets the monitor down, picking up his beer, “the food looks delicious, baby.” He says and you smile, “Javier did most of the work today. Adrian helped me prep. We split the cooking so he could take some home to his boyfriend.” You confess and Chucho hums, “it looks incredible, mija.” Javier raises his beer, “happy Thanksgiving.” He toasts and you clink your wine glass against his bottle and Chucho’s bottle. “To the day we met.” You toast back and Javier smiles, leaning over to kiss you softly. This Thanksgiving is very different from past ones. No longer hanging around a diner for a breakfast during his shift, this year he’s spending Thanksgiving with his Pa, his son, and his beautiful wife. He’s truly blessed.

[eevees-hobbies]

Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time!

This is a response to this anon request: Hii can i request wind breaker boys : bofurin and shishitoren with a reader that love to flirt and hard to flustered although they tried to do it back? Thank you

Author’s Note: Thank you, Anon, for being my first Wind Breaker request! I feel like we were on the same wavelength because I was planning on doing a flirt fic/headcanon, but you beat me to it! Unshy and bold is how I like to write my readers, too!

Content Warning: Fem!Reader x Characters. Not smut but highly suggestive in some parts. Use of the word slut in the beginning background piece, a brief examination of the word and scenarios in which it’s weaponized. If you’re not into that, feel free to skip that part. But I’ve seen what some of you all are into and seen some of those reblogs—you know who you are, so spare me. You’re also a major flirt. Like, you’re at a 10 on the flirt scale. Go, you! Nothing too explicit, but here’s what we’re working with: mention of panties in Sakura’s. Kaji needs to learn to keep items inside of his mouth…unless? Suo intends to punish you so pick a god and pray. Hiragi needs you to chill out…but say more, please. Umemiya is too shy to ask you to call him Daddy (please call him Daddy). Togame tells you what you’ll be sitting on by the end of the night (also mention of alcohol in his). Nirei is a cute little bean <3. Minors Don’t Interact.

As always, I appreciate comments, reblogs, and likes. Requests are as open as my legs are for Haruka Sakura’s dick.

Word Count: 2.8K

Dividers by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Background: How You Got Here

You’ve always hated the word ‘slut’

It’s not that you wouldn’t personally consider yourself one. Depending on your ideologies, reclaiming the word can feel liberating and you find that to be true for yourself. 

You consider yourself to be naturally flirty, sexy, bold, and charismatic. You can also be a bit of a tease and have slut-like-tendancies in the bedroom, so, sure, a slut. And for the right person or people, if you’re feelin’ nasty, you’re willing to be whatever they want you to be. 

You’ve just grown to hate the word because slut is often used to mischaracterize a woman that men often can’t understand. 

They can’t, or choose not to, understand a woman who is vocal about who she wants and how she wants it. 

They call women sluts who do the chasing.

They call women sluts who fuck on the first date. 

They call women sluts who don’t fuck on the first date. 

The word slut has lost all meaning.

Patriarchy issues aside, this wouldn’t be a problem if you didn’t also have a mouth on you. So when some low-life-loser cat calls you from across the street, asking if you got a man and then calling you a slut because you chose not to answer in front of his five loser friends, you turn around and yell, “Sorry, buddy! Experiencing disappointing sexual experiences isn’t on my bingo card for tonight!”

“What the FUCK did you just say to me?”

And contrary to what some may say, you aren’t fucking stupid. You know what happens to women when a man hates them and decides that you’re the object of their rage.

So, you often find yourself running in situations like this. Running until your lungs are about to explode and the only thing keeping you going is adrenaline and the fear that that word—and your mouth—might get you snuffed out. 

You’re looking over your shoulder as your assailants close the distance, painfully aware that this can’t go on for too much longer when you collide with someone’s chest. Strong hands grip your arms, anchoring you in place. 

You look up, expecting to see one of the men from the group but you’re instead taken aback by the stranger in front of you. He seems like the kind of boy you’d let call you a slut—-his close-mouthed smile disarms you, and even though it doesn’t reach his eyes, you’re almost certain he’s someone you can trust. You don’t have too many options right now, anyway!

His tassel earrings swing as he raises his head from looking down at you, and his eyes follow the sound of running feet emerging from the alley. 

“Oh? You look like you could use some help. Stand over there for me?” He tilts his head when asking you the question, but part of you feels like he’s not really asking, so you nod and watch with bated breath as the young man methodically mows down every one of the men. 

Afterward, he turns to you, pristine and perfect, “I can’t let you walk home alone after that.”

“Sure,” you say, taking his outstretched hand. What’s your name? I have to know the name of the person who just saved me.”

“Oh, I guess that’s a fair point. My name is Hayato Suo. It’s nice to meet you despite the circumstances.”

It’s not long after that event that you fall into the protection of the Bofurin & Shishitoren men; your natural charisma quickly gets you in their good graces and earns you a special spot among their ranks. You give off mascot vibes—if mascots were cute and didn’t have gigantic, scary bodies!

Hanging out with them means being yourself without experiencing judgment or retribution. Your laid-back persona and flirting are met with laughs, blushes, and even sometimes flirtation in return. You’ve never felt more at home than with them. 

Haruka Sakura

Flirting with Haruka Sakura is like flirting with a brick wall; either he notices and chooses to ignore the situation as his face turns a crimson red, or he’ll yell at you for being a pervert in public. And both of those reactions are equally cute, so when one day you’re sitting at a booth at Cafe Pothos—-with Sakura, Suo & Nirei—-you decide that this is the perfect environment to get him riled up.

You gently knock your shoe against Sakura’s, which earns you an eyebrow twitch as he continues to shovel food into his mouth. Oblivious as always. 

You do it again to prove that it wasn’t an accidental nudge. Sakura’s eyes shoot up to yours, frantic because this is something you would do. His eyes are met with your innocent smile and subtle shoulder shrug.

As you all continue eating (excluding Suo, who enjoys a cup of tea), you gradually move your foot up his leg until it rests between his thighs. Sakura is trembling like a leaf, eyes darting between the faces of your friends, who could very well notice that you’re trying to get him to play footsie under the table. What if they notice? 

The meal concludes; Suo and Nirei exit the restaurant, and you and Sakura linger for a bit. Part of you hopes that he’ll call out your behavior, but he’s doing his best eye-avoidant routine. As you rise to leave, Sakura stops you, grabbing you by the hem of your sleeve and pushing you into the last booth at the back of the restaurant, where the line of sight is blocked.

Sakura climbs on top of you, your bodies crammed into the leather booths in a way that feels deliciously intimate. His hands are holding your arms at your sides, and his knee settles in between your thighs—and you are now more than ever painfully aware of how high your skirt has bunched up as his knee is dangerously close to brushing up against the seat of your panties. 

“Y-you can’t control yourself in public, can you!?” Sakura practically spits out. He’d sound angry to anyone else, but that’s not what you see in his eyes. 

You look up at him, mesmerized by his vulnerability and the proximity of his well-placed knee. "Do you want me to stop, Haruka?”

He again avoids eye contact with you, but the way he bites his lip gives him away, “No, I-i didn’t say that.”

Akihiko Nirei 

“Have you added anyone else to that book of yours, Nirei?”

Nirei beams at you. You’re one of the few people who takes an interest in the compendium of facts and stats he’s collected about the others. He flips through the pages and starts pointing out information he’s added since you’ve last spoken.

You nod along, taking a genuine interest in what he says; you barely notice your hand moving up to brush away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place. His cheeks tinge pink, and he stutters as he continues to read to you.

After he’s done hyper-fixating, a comfortable silence sits between you.

“What do you have about me?” you say, leaning closer to him. You’re teasing him; you don’t exchange blows like the subjects in his journals, so there’s no practical reason for him to collect information on you. That’s what you think until he reaches into his back pocket and brandishes a small notebook with your name on the front. 

“I-i uh have the basic demographics, but uh…still need the more personal things like your favorite color and food.”

“What about my bra size?”

“B-bra….” The pencil in his hand snaps, and he looks everywhere but at you. “I uh… s-sure! I’ll take that if you’d like me to!”

You laugh; you genuinely find him endearing. “I’m kidding! We haven’t even had our first date yet, Nirei!”

He looks at you, pulling out a new pencil from seemingly nowhere. “Well, once I find out what food you like, I’ll add the anniversary date of our first date here, too.”

Ren Kaji

Flirting with Kaji feels dangerous, but you do you, friend. You, as an individual, and the way compliments flow easily from your lips makes Kaji uncomfortable, and he admittedly doesn’t understand why someone as gorgeous as you gives him the time of day. It isn’t until you somehow become closer that the absence of your flirting with him sets off blaring alarm bells. 

Are you ok? 

Who did this to you?  

Who does he have to kill?!

As you thumb through the vinyl at your local record store, you feel a bump against your shoulder. You look up and see your favorite platinum blond guard dog; his headphones are settled around his neck, heavy metal pouring from the earphones. His piercing gaze is a clear indication that you might be in trouble. Oops. 

“You mad at me or somethin’?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Mad? Why do you think that?”

“You haven’t been pestering me lately, and it feels…odd.”

You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, even with the round sucker placed snugly in his mouth. 

“Ohhhhhh, no, Kaji! I was giving you a break, but if you insist on flirting, how about-”

“Shut up,” he pulls the sucker out of his mouth and presses it against your lips, watching as you purse your glossed lips and kiss the candy. Neither of you breaks eye contact; an unspoken threat between you dares the other to yield first. His eyes narrow as you poke your tongue out and stroke the sides with intentional, slow licks.

“Tch!” he turns quickly, marching away from you. Despite his back being turned, you can tell by the way his arm raises that he’s now placing that saliva-soaked sucker in his mouth. 

Hayato Suo 

Suo might be one of two people on this list who might be a worthy opponent for you. How do you flirt with someone who is perpetually unbothered? Good question! I see your flirting as back-and-forth quips, playful jabs at one another that get increasingly sexual and oddly specific throughout the day.

If you meet up with the group and one strand of your hair is out of place, Suo chirps, “Bedhead, huh? What were YOU doing last night?”

If you see Suo break a sweat after an intense fight, “Wow, Suo! You really need to work on your stamina. I can imagine a few ways to help with that.”

Sure, it’s all in good fun, but there’s a sexual undertone to it all; between the smiles and sarcastic comments, you’re both participating in your special version of foreplay, and you have never been more turned on. 

Everyone around you thinks you should get a room, and as sunset approaches, you two do exactly that.

“Ready to work on that stamina, Suo?” you chide as you push him against the wall in your apartment. You know you’ll pay for man-handling him later, but that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?

His earrings sway back and forth from the force, but he gazes down at you with smoldering ruby-toned eyes. Every smart-mouthed remark you’ve said that day replays in his head, contributing to his desire to make you atone for your brattiness.

“Yes, Y/N and I promise I won’t let you out of bed with your hair a mess like I did this morning.”

Hajime Umemiya

The complexity of Hajime Umemiya should be a case study. You’ve witnessed his laid-back nature as he jokes with friends, and you’ve seen the scary side of him that bubbles over when anyone threatens those he’s closest to. 

You’re truly attracted to both sides, but when it comes to you and the way you tease him, running manicured nails through his gelled hair and scratching gently at his scalp, he’s putty in your hands.

One of your favorite ways to experience Umemiya is meeting him in his element: his garden. It allows you to bond with him, and he often shares information about his life. Somewhere, Sugishita is biting his fist. 

“Big brother,” you whine as you plant okra, “am I doing this right?”

Umemiya’s eyes widen, and he looks at you across the garden. In what feels like seconds, he’s kneeling in front of you, your hands cupped in his own. “Y-you can’t call me that!”

You blink, confused, “you tell everyone to call you that.”

“I don’t want YOU to call me that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s weird when someone you…like…calls you big brother. It’s worse than being called a friend!”

You snort, but when you meet his eyes, you quickly straighten. Oh! He’s serious! 

“So, not into me calling you big brother even during our ‘private moments?’ What about ‘Daddy?’ How do you feel about that?”

He laughs loudly—not because he thinks that was especially hilarious—but because you just make him nervous. 

“You can call me Hajime or…’my boyfriend?’ Yeah, let's stick with my boyfriend!”

“Not Daddy?”

“I won’t stop you! Now, how about that okra???”

Toma Hiragi

“You’re a pain in my ass.”

Hiragi’s simultaneously rubbing a knot out of his neck while chastising you. You found yourself in an all too familiar situation, running errands when a drunken man approached you and began to hurl “that word” in your direction when he didn’t find your reaction to his advances to be appropriate: same shit, different day.

As you were looking for an escape route, Hiragi rounded the corner and snatched the man by the collar—it was almost comical to see the drunkard's feet dangle feverishly off the ground. With a scowl and a threat from Hiragi, he was stumbling off.

You sigh, “I don’t mean to be a burden, Hiragi. But something on my forehead must read, ‘fuck with me’ because this is becoming a common occurrence.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he grumbles, “I just find myself worrying about you too much. Might give you my jacket to keep these creeps at bay.” 

Before the last syllable leaves his lips, he’s stuttering and trying to walk the statement back, “I mean uh…or any Bofurin jacket! We have boxes of these somewhere! Not mine, per se.”

You smile, placing a hand on his toned bicep. “I’d love to wear my protector's jacket.”

You need not say more. He removes his oversized jacket and places it over your shoulders. The smell of him and the warmth he left behind makes your heart flutter. You give him your best grin, “you know you’re never getting this back, right?”

“See? A pain in my ass. With a mouth like that, I’m goin’ to have to teach you how to fight.” 

You lean into his arm, “With a mouth like this, you might have to teach me more than how to fight.”

“Jesus.”

Jo Togame 

Jo Togame is the other person on this list who’ll give you a run for your money when trying to flirt. He may seem turtle-adjacent, but his rebuttals to your flirtation attempts are quick. 

You’ve been shooting Togame smoldering glances for the entirety of the night, and even though Shishitoren men surround him, he’ll catch you looking, give you a lopsided grin, and then turn his attention back to the group,

You lick your lips. The draw of his signature sweatpants, black, loose-fitting tee, and Shishitoren jacket is doing something to you. 

And maybe it’s because you’re on your fifth shot of mystery concoction, and the music they’re playing at the house party makes you feel bold and think that what you’re about to do is a good idea. 

With all the courage you can muster, you walk up to Togame. He tilts his head in your direction, but you can see amusement in his jade-colored eyes.

“Took you long enough. Thought you were never gonna get tired of starin’ at me.”

“Dance with me!” you yell over the music. You can feel everyone in the group sizing you up and waiting to hear how Togame responds. 

He puts his beer down and takes your hand. You pull him to the center of the room, where a makeshift dance floor has been constructed. You allow the music to move you before you can talk yourself out of whatever is happening. Togame puts his hand on your waist and allows you to grind against him and to the beat. 

“You like the idea of making me nervous, huh?”

You stand on the tips of your toes to get as close to his ear as possible, “You caught me! Is it working?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “No because I know exactly how this night is going to end.”

Your heart picks up a bit as his hands slide down from your waist and rest above your ass.

“How?” You squeak.

“With you grinding just like this on my dick.”

You open your mouth to respond, but he presses his lips against yours, his kiss hot and hungry. 

Your eyes flutter closed, and you agree that this night will likely end how he prophesized.