#kickass x fem!reader

[astermath]

Hii 🤭 can I request a Dave Lizewski x reader fluffy smut? Maybe something like dave and the reader are studying for a test but he gets distracted or something

omg yes ofc!! I haven't written for dave in a bit but he's still one of my main pookies so YES, YES I WILL ANON. so sorry this took so long btw!!

pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend is too distracted during your study session, so you decide to help him out.

word count: 1.5K

tags: dave and reader are in college, protected sex, established relationship, kind of sub dave? a little proofread, minors dni! normal font below!

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further dave lizewski related content!

Dave tutoring you was a regular part of your weekly routine. Not only was he a great boyfriend, but he was also an expert at anything math related. Which came in handy for you, because despite being a major in social studies, your course required you to take a class in statistics. So, with exams coming up, the two of you had been spending more and more time preparing together.

The sound of pens clicking and papers being shuffled around filled the room along with your groans. You were desperately trying to find the formula key you’d written down earlier, that had now conveniently disappeared.

Dave watched you, eyes peeking above his glasses as he bit his bottom lip. He wouldn’t tell you, he was pretty sure you’d gotten even more frustrated, but you looked so cute when you were agitated. Not that he liked having you in that mood, not at all. But it was just— the pout of your soft lips, the scrunch of your cute nose, the little huff you’d make when things didn’t go your way… Boy, he was obsessed with you.

"But I swear I-- are you even listening to me?"

Dave snaps out of his daydreaming when you snap your fingers in front of his face, a blush creeping up his face. "I-I was, I promise!"

You raised an eyebrow. "Sure you were." You leaned back into your chair, crossing your legs. "Aren't you supposed to be helping me? I'm gonna be so mad if I have to retake this course."

He gulps, the last thing he wanted was for you to waste your precious time on doing this all again. Especially because that meant you'd have less time for him as well.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just... I'm so--"

"Distracted?" you interrupt his stammering. To Dave's surprise, you're no longer looking all that frustrated. Your frown is replaced by a cheeky grin, one he knows all too well.

“N-No, I mean— yeah, a little, but it’s not that I don’t wanna help—“ he starts rambling, his words dying off when he hears you giggle. "Wh--What?"

"You're so cute, Dave," you got up, closing the distance so that you were now standing in between his legs, "but I really can't have you being all distracted while we're supposed to study."

He suddenly felt a lot guiltier about his staring. He promised to help you and here he was gawking at how pretty you were, getting all kinds of thoughts. He felt like a pervert.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I'm just getting in the wa-- what are you doing?"

You took his hands and pulled him off the chair, guiding him over to the bed and giving him a push so he landed with his back flat onto the mattress. He looked a little disheveled, curls all messy and his glasses a little crooked. God, you could just eat him up.

"I can't have you being distracted, so," you took your shirt off in one swift motion, "let's fix that."

He watched you with wide blue eyes, face flushed pink with his mouth hanging open. You were no stranger to taking the upper hand with him, but he hadn't expected your study session to get steamy so quickly.

That's how you ended up on top of him, hips grinding down on him through his boxers and your panties. He swore he was about to cum just from you rubbing yourself over him, it took everything in him not to give into that feeling.

"Is this what you were thinking about, baby?" Your voice is dripping with honey. There's something teasing, almost mocking in it. You were well aware of how horny your boyfriend gets, the dirty thoughts he gets, even from before the two of you were a thing. But he never just admits them, no, he's a sweetheart like that.

He wants to answer, so bad, but with every movement of your hips a whimper spills from his lips, whether he wants it to or not. He's not too sure what to do with his hands, keeping them loosely on your thighs, not guiding, simply touching. Almost to ground himself a little.

"Hm, or maybe... You were thinking about this?" You reach down to move your panties to the side, and he takes the hint to start shoving his boxers down, just low enough to free his cock. You feel it tap against your ass as it finally springs free, already dripping with precum.

The vulgar sound of your juices spreading over his cock drives him mad. He barely gets the time to roll a condom on before your rubbing his head through your folds again, his hands grabbing the fat of your thighs a little harder. He's whining softly, silently pleading for you to let him fuck you already.

"What's that baby?" you reach out and grab his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Use your words hun, I'm not a mind reader."

He just stares at you for a moment, cock twitching at your commanding words. He swallows, struggling to get anything out like the horny mess he is.

"I-I want you to--"

"Speak up."

"I want to be inside you," His voice cracks a little when he repeats himself, louder this time, "Please." he adds.

You smile, a thumb rubbing gently across his cheek. Poor boy looked like he was about to cry if he didn't get to fuck you, cock painfully aching with a need for you, and you alone.

"Well," you lined him up with your entrance, "only because you asked so nicely."

You took him inside with one swift movement of your hips, dropping down onto his lap with an audible clap of skin against skin. You moaned in unison, eyes finding each other, always wanting to watch the other's face when you finally connected like this again.

You wasted no time, already moving your hips again, the sensation of his cock dragging over your slicked walls sending you into a state of euphoria already. Dave's a big guy, and that counts for every other part of him too. You didn't care if stretch was a little painful, or that it took you a while to get used to the size of him at first, you loved it.

"B-Baby, please-- oh my god, you feel s'good, holy shit..." He blabbered on, his words slurring over the sounds of his moans. You grinned, he was already so pussy drunk, it was adorable.

You leaned over, hand splayed over his toned chest, nails dragging over his fair skin and leaving red trails in their wake. He looked so pretty, all marked up, letting everybody know that he was yours. Not that they didn't know already, he loved letting them know, always mentioning his pretty girlfriend whenever he could.

Your thighs started burning a little from the exertion, but you couldn't stop, not when you felt your orgasm slowly approaching. You started moving faster, bouncing on his cock, grin faltering as your expression grew more desperate.

"Dave, I-- fuck!" you cried out when he shifted his hips, the head of his cock hitting a particular spot inside you that made you see stars. "Keep doing that, holy shit, m'gonna cum baby..."

He took your command, as always, following your rhythm with his own movements. His thrusts become more erratic and sloppy by the second, letting you know he was getting close himself. Not that the continuous repeating of your name wasn't already alerting you of that.

"J-Just like that baby, just like that," your orgasm caught up to you soon, walls fluttering around him as you tilted your head back and moaned his name. The two of you were always loud, but now you were sure the whole floor heard you.

He followed right after, thrusting up into you and filling the condom with his hot cum. Your body went limp for a moment, collapsing on top of him with your full weight. His strong arms enveloped you, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, panting, trying to catch your breath.

After a moment to come down from the high of your orgasms, you moved your head to press soft kisses to his cheek. He sighed dreamily, an adorable boyish smile appearing on his face. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you. Sometimes, it just felt like a dream. Luckily you were there to kiss him back to reality.

"D'you wanna go back to studying?" he asked softly, his hand tracing gently over your spine.

You whined, pressing a few kisses to his lips. "Hm... No..."

"But," kiss, "what about," kiss, "the exam?"

"Fuck the exam." You moved your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He doesn't reply, instead smiling to himself. Just being glad he's not the only one distracted now.

tag list <3

@nephilimsss @tangerinesgf @dynamitehacke @izzyisstuff @cinawoah @amoebagrl @ykyouluvme  @stilloverthinking @erodastylinson  @reneehillary69  @durag-tanaka @earth-elemental18    @caxddce  @777iii @a-simp-for-broken-people

[meiiie]

Hi hope your doing great today :) maybe a dave lizewski x reader period comfort fic? got mine this week and it sucks and i need one with my best nerd <33

omg so sorry i just saw this now anon, but yes of course!

cramps&cuddles — dave lizewski

pairing: boyfriend!dave lizewski x fem!reader

words: 0.6K (I wish I could make this longer, but I've run out of other ideas…)

fluff, comfort :) not proofread

You and Dave decided to have a sleepover after school since your parents goes to a vacation for a day, but your period just had to start at the worst timing. When Dave arrives at your house and sees you what seems to be (physically dying) on your bed, he immediately knows something is wrong

During the past week he’s been too busy being ‘Kickass’, this has been one of the first time in a while since you’ve seen each other, so seeing this sight brings a sudden rush of guilt inside of him. “hey, hey, baby, are you okay?” Dave asks, dropping his school bag with panic, approaching the bed to check your forehead with the back of his hand. “ughhrdhrdhhrfh, no I think I’m dying- oh gosh” you groan while hugging your lower abdomen. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod don’t worry I’m here- what do you need? I- what’s happening. Your forehead isn’t so hot??? What could be the reaso-” while Dave was squirming around your room in hopes of finding something to help with your suffering, you cut him off saying “Dave, don’t stress out omg it’s just that time of the month”

Despite Dave being the huge nerd he is—/that time of the month/ is the only thing he hasn’t researched about. His mom passed away while he was young, so with the amount of knowledge he knows about women… you can tell he was internally panicking. You turn to look away, then when you glance back- POOF, he magically disappears. He’s SPEEDING to the nearest store while on his phone, waht do wpmen need for thst time odf monsht typed while bursting into the store. When safari finally loads, he buys the listed items:

Pads

Tampons

A compress

Your favorite snacks

“wait… pads with wings or without? you know what, I’ll just buy everything” is his mindset while also not thinking of his safety right now because how did bro almost get RAN OVER 4 times in a row. Despite his survival of multiple possible car crashes, he also goes to the nearest market to buy oranges because, according to a website, they help with cramps… or something? At this point, he doesn’t know if any of the items he has bought will help with anything, but he’s just praying you aren’t dead yet by the time he gets back to your house

It’s been roughly about 5-6 minutes, and he SWINGS YOUR DOOR OPEN with an almost burnt meal he made inside your kitchen with any ingredients he could find, hot chocolate, and a bowl of already peeled oranges. (a/n: I know that food combination sounds disgusting, but I’ve had all of that at once in one seating during my period, and it tasted amazing so what can I say) “here hun, I don’t know if any of these helps but how are you feeling so far?” he gently places the set of food on your bedside table, while also settling the hot compress on top of your stomach. He goes to cuddle beside you, caressing your back while handing you paper bags full of all the snacks you love.

“I think I’m feeling a lot better now, thank you so much for this” you say getting comfortable in his embrace, kissing around your forehead from time to time. He looks straight into your eyes, so deep, whispering apologetically “I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to spend this past week with you, I promise to make it up to you.” nuzzling his face into your neck, which makes you feel, warm, like your cramps have suddenly disappeared. “It's okay, please don’t worry too much about it, okay? Plus you’ve already made it up to me, thank you for being here, I mean it.” you both laughing at the sight of how any plastic bags he brought full of at least 15 different versions of pads and tampons. You both hold each other peacefully, while you both feel the breeze from your open window. 

“Can you hand me those oranges?”

[moonlightspencie]

do it for me

quote: “Like every serial killer already knew: eventually, fantasizing just doesn’t do it for you anymore”

Pairing: Dave Lizewski x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut!! (p in v, dirty talk, etc) it’s porn with little to no plot aka mdni

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: this is self indulgence at its finest

“Hey, study partner,” you sang out, giving Dave a cheeky smile as you opened the door of your apartment.

“Hey,” he gave a polite, though slightly nervous, smile back. 

You’d been paired together in your speech 101 class to complete a “group speech”. Though, at first you were certain you’d gotten the short end of the stick when you realized you were the only group of two in the class. Not to mention you got paired up with the quiet, kind of dorky guy. 

It only took two study sessions for your mind to change entirely.

His dorkiness quickly became endearing, especially when you realized just how cute he was up close. His messy hair and stupid glasses were stupidly attractive. He was surprisingly jacked under all the layers he normally wore. And, god, his eyes.

If he looked at you with his eyes all wide and innocent-looking one more time, you were certain you’d end up jumping him.

All of that, paired with how cute and blushy he got any time you flirted with him, was the perfect storm: you needed him bad.

You opened the front door of your apartment a little further, allowing him inside. He shuffled just past you, dropping his bag unceremoniously in order to pull off his shoes. You leaned against the wall to observe him as he did, finding yourself watching his every move like a hawk as of late. It was hard not to. You’d certainly had enough dirty dreams in the weeks prior, leading to even dirtier thoughts guiding your hand every time you go that familiar feeling fluttering in your stomach.

You only snapped out of it when he turned to you, his cheeks flushing a bit as he realized you were watching him. Only, you weren’t so nervous. You never were one to shy away from a crush. You merely smiled at him, pulling yourself off the wall and grabbing his arm.

“Come on,” you said, tugging him towards your room.

“W-what?” he blushed harder, quickly grabbing his bag as you pulled him along. “What about the… the living room?”

“My roommate is watching a movie in there with her boyfriend tonight,” you stated, omitting the fact that you asked her to occupy the space that night so you’d have an excuse to get him in your bedroom.

“Oh…” 

“It’s okay. My bed’s comfier anyway. Trust me,” you smirk over your shoulder, loving the fact that you could practically read what went through his mind in that moment.

That was the other thing you found yourself liking about Dave: you could read him like a book. Any time he was nervous, he fiddled with his hands. Any time he was stressed about class, he buried a hand in his hair roughly. And any time he was thinking dirty thoughts, those cute, pouty lips of his opened slightly and his eyes got all wide and round. Not to mention, he’d suck in a shaky breath. It was fucking endearing and horrifically sexy.

And he was doing it right then.

You turned over how you’d get your way as you pulled him into your room, though you knew it probably wouldn’t be hard. He obviously thought you were hot, and you still had plenty of time to do work on the speech before he’d leave.

You let go of him at last, shutting the door behind the both of you. You then shuffled over to your bed, sliding off your slippers before you got onto your bed, kneeling on the soft mattress. You patted the spot next to you, trying not to smile at the fact that he was looking at you as if he was thinking a little too hard about something else again. After a beat, though, he obeyed.

“Attaboy,” you mumbled, just to get another reaction out of him.

He cleared his throat, settling in uncomfortably. “So… Uh…”

“So…” you tilted your head in question, leaning in a little closer to him.

“Uh…” he gulped, looking down at you as you were mere inches from him. “Uh… We’re… Our topic is about killer whales, right?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, blinking your lashes at him. “Guess we gotta figure out how we’re doing it, huh?”

“What?” he squeaked out.

You grinned a little, raising a brow. He sucked in a breath when he finally pulled his head out of the gutter.

“Oh. Right. Right, yeah. How to… how to do it,” he nodded, too quickly to be natural. “Sorry, I don’t know where my head’s at.”

“That’s alright. No worries,” you smiled sweetly, resting a hand on his thigh gently.

He stiffened up physically, and you could only imagine the same happened in his pants. You squeezed his leg for a little extra emphasis. 

“You okay?” you asked.

“Mm… Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

He nodded a little, glancing briefly at your chest. You were in.

“Hey,” you said softly, rubbing up and down his leg. “You don’t need to act so shy. I don’t bite that hard.”

He blinked a few times, chewing on his lip. “I’m just… a little nervous.”

“Why?”

“Well… It’s just that… I mean that, that you’re–”

You chuckled to yourself. “I’m totally fucking with you, by the way.”

“What?” he asked, his voice high pitched.

“I said I’m fucking with you,” you repeated, sliding your hand up to his crotch. “Ooh. Someone’s excited, huh?”

“Uh…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He paused, breathing heavy. “I don’t know.”

You laughed fully, moving your hand away again. He breathed out a sigh of relief, though you made sure to stop his relaxation in its tracks. You swung a leg over his hips, settling down onto his lap. He groaned, his hands grabbing at your thighs immediately.

“What are you doing?” he breathed out, clearly not protesting it.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you for weeks, Lizewski. You can’t seriously be that oblivious,” you muttered before smashing your lips into his.

He let out a shuddering, whiny moan into your lips, kissing you back like he’d been dreaming of it. You hoped he had been. You nipped his lip, getting him to open up for you to slide your tongue against his. He gripped your thighs and hips, his hands greedy as they wandered over your body. 

“You’re so pretty,” he gasped out as you moved your lips across his cheek and down his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You hummed happily, moving your lips down his neck. You licked and sucked at his skin, drawing out a million little sounds from his lips. You nipped at him, then sucked hard on his skin, determined to leave a mark. He moaned your name, squeezing your ass with both hands, relishing in the feel of your body beneath your thin shorts.

“Shh, baby,” you mumbled, licking over the new mark on the base of his neck. “There. Looks real pretty.” “Shit,” he whimpered, trying like hell to move your hips over his.

“Desperate,” you whispered into his ear, obliging him with a roll of your body.

He moaned softly, needy and clearly wanting more. But you wanted to see how far you could push him. You rolled your hips again and again over the obvious erection straining against his baggy jeans. You couldn’t imagine it felt great, but all the same, he wasn’t complaining. He wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck, his shaggy hair tickling the underside of your jaw.

“How’s it feel, baby?” you teased.

He merely groaned, staying silent for a few moments. “I… it kind of hurts. But please don’t stop.”

“Here,” you said, going up on your knees. “Pull your jeans down. It’ll feel better.”

He gulped, but quickly obliged your request. He clumsily pulled his jeans down his legs, clearly wanting and ready despite the fact that he looked like a deer in the headlights. You lowered yourself back down, grinding against him once more. He whined softly, guiding your hips with his eyes glued to where your bodies met through the fabric.

“Have you ever done anything like this?” you asked, a little amused at how excited he was.

“Only once… high school girlfriend…” he muttered in response. 

You chuckled softly. “Poor boy.”

He groaned, continuing to move you over his nearly-painful erection. You kissed down his neck, leaving a few marks for him to remember you by when he went to bed that night. He continued letting soft, pathetic noises fall from his lips, practically panting at this point.

“You getting close already, Lizewski?” you whispered, lips brushing his ear.

He merely nodded, his hands gripping you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. He breathed into your neck, chasing his release. But you couldn’t have that.

“You want more, don’t you?” you asked softly, winding your hand in his hair to give it a little tug.

He nodded his head, staring at you with a slack jaw.

“Okay, angel. What do you say?”

“P-please,” he whimpered softly.

You smiled to yourself, moving up on your knees and quickly working to shove his jeans down his thighs further. You paused, glancing up at him with a devilishly sweet smile.

“You think you can manage to pull those off the rest of the way so I can get my shorts off?” 

He nodded earnestly. “Yes. Yeah, I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you patted his leg, then rolled off of him to shimmy out of your shorts and panties, not wanting to wait any longer. 

You’d been patient for what felt like ages now, not jumping on the guy out of respect. But you were only a woman, and you could only put off your desires for so long: especially when he clearly wanted you just as much.

You kept your eyes on him as he pushed his briefs off, laying back on the bed with his chest heaving and hair messy around him. His cock was hard and ready and so gorgeous. He wasn’t massive or anything, but between the coloring and his shape, you were certain it was the prettiest you’d seen. The slightest curve pointing towards his tummy that was now partially exposed from his shirt riding up.

“Wow.”

“What?” He asked breathlessly, looking up at you with wide, wet eyes.

You smirked at his desperation. “You’re just really pretty like this.”

He whined softly, obviously trying not to look at your exposed lower half as you crawled towards him on the mattress again.

“I’m really glad we got paired up for this class,” you admitted, straddling his legs. “Don’t think I would’ve ever considered you otherwise. But now I can’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, his eyes falling shut. “Please.”

“You sound so sweet when you beg.”

“Please,” he repeated, looking at you in utter need, his hands sliding up your thighs and to your hips.

“Shh,” you whispered back to him, reaching down to stroke his firm cock. He practically squeaked, his hips thrusting into your hand. “You’re awfully responsive, huh?”

“Y-yeah,” he all but moaned in response. “God, you’re so pretty.”

“Thanks, honey,” you replied noncommittally, dragging his tip through your folds to gather the slick there. He let out a shaky groan, fingers tightening on your hips.

“Wait,” he exclaimed softly, shaking his head.

You raised a brow, stopping your movements. “You alright?”

“Yeah. No, I’m… I am so good, you have no idea,” he mumbled quickly, still staring at you. “I just… I’d really like to be on top. If that’s okay.”

You chuckled, then nodded, obliging his request. You rolled off of him, laying on your back with your head in the pillows.

“Only because you asked so nice.”

“Thank you,” he said, whiny and needy as he moved between your legs. He let out a breathy moan as he slid his tip against you again. “You’re so soft. Wet.”

“I know.”

“Mm…”

He moaned, nearly looking like he could cry, as he started pushing into you. His eyes were glued to where you swallowed the head of his cock easily, brows knit together as he breathed heavy. 

“God… fuck…” he whined, falling on top of you with his head in your neck, letting himself ease into you. You gasped softly when he finally bottomed out, feeling yourself gush around him. “Fuck. You feel so fucking good. So good.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you reply, carding your hand through his hair and tugging it softly.

He lifted his head to take off his glasses, setting them on your bedside table. 

“Thank you. For letting me do this,” he whimpered, his face lowering back to your neck. 

He started thrusting his hips against yours slowly, sucking and biting at your neck as you felt his cock drag along your walls almost teasingly. He breathed heavily, every little needy noise like music to your ears. You ran your nails across his back, wanting to mark him and make him remember you every waking moment of his life. 

“You feel perfect,” he squeaked out, his hips starting to snap harder against yours as he grew more needy chasing his release. “I’ve had a crush on you all year. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

You chuckled breathily, his body pinning yours to the mattress as his hand gripped the sheets above your head. He moaned at every thrust, practically using your body to get himself off. Not that you minded. It was unbelievably hot to see him so desperate for you that he almost couldn’t help the way he pushed himself into you. 

“I could cum inside you right now,” he moaned again, moving his head to kiss you once. “Promise I won’t. But I could… I’m so close.”

“You can cum anywhere you want.”

He groaned, kissing you again, all tongue and want. “Please… Take off the shirt. Wanna… your tits.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” he begged, whining as he kept pushing into you. “Please. I’d do anything.”

“Okay, baby,” you complied with a self-satisfied smirk, tugging at your shirt until you were able to pull it over your head. You watched him as he eyes were drawn to your breasts bouncing in your bra before you pulled that off, too.

“Oh, god…”

“You like them, huh?”

“Love ‘em,” he groaned, gripping one of your tits roughly with his hand. “God.”

“Mm…” you moaned a little, back arching into his touch. “Fuck, I’m close, too.”

“Really?” His eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Oh, shit. Okay. I’m… fuck, that’s so hot,” he said quickly, looking at you like you’d hung the stars just for him. “I– I’ll make you cum first. Promise.”

“Baby…”

“No, please. I wanna watch you,” he breathed out, eyes moving between your face and tits as he tried his damndest not to cum before you did.

You decided you’d be nice, just this once, and moved your hand between your bodies. You rubbed quick little circles around your clit as he kept railing you into the mattress, trying to get yourself to finish first. He whined as he kept going, squeezing his eyes shut as he clearly put in a lot of effort to hold himself off.

“You’re close?” he checked.

“Yeah. Really close. Almost there.”

“Mm…” he groaned, lowering his head and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

That did it.

You gasped, moaning his name as you clenched hard around his dick, soaking him in your release as he thrusted as fast as he could manage. Though you were left empty only a few seconds later as he pulled out, just in time to shoot his seed all over your bare chest. He groaned wantonly, stroking himself a little bit as he finished.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, voice high pitched and whiny. “Holy fuck. Fuck.”

“Yeah?”

He swallowed, mouth hung open as he tried catching his breath. “Uh huh.”

“You’re adorable,” you chuckled, watching as he sat down next to you, still trying to breathe normally again.

He nodded. “God damn.”

You reached for the tissues on your bedside table, wiping the cum off of your breasts as Dave fell back onto your bed in a combination of bliss and exhaustion. You chuckled at his actions, shaking your head.

“I think this makes our study sessions way more fun,” you offered after a moment.

Dave laughed breathlessly. “I think I’ll have to thank our professor.”

[lanaswritingbook]

Not like others

Dave Lizewski x fem!Reader

Warning: implied sex, fluff

First time writing in a while hope you like! (The summary is kinda ass sorry. Trying to get back into writing 😭)

Summary- After you and Dave finished having sex you thought you had to leave right after due to never having aftercare. But he made sure you got what you needed.

After a while I finally slid off of Dave breathless at the activities we’ve just done. This wasn’t my first time doing the deed but it was my second.

And the first time was terrible it was honestly a mistake. The guy left in the same ten minutes after we finished and ghosted me ever since.

So that’s why I was scared for this to be over. Dave and I weren’t established as a couple but we knew we weren’t friends and only talked to each other romantically. I think it’s just fear for both of us to take that next big step.

But would Dave be that guy to just tell me I should go and never speak to me again?

We laid in his bed both staring up at the ceiling both trying to catch our breath in silence.

Slightly looking over his eyes were closed with his hand over his chiseled stomach. God what workouts did he do?

Thinking he was a sleep or trying to ignore this embarrassing moment I stood up quietly putting my clothes on.

The bed creaked lightly making him open his eyes. “Hey where you going” he asked sitting up deciding to put his boxers back on.

“Oh I was just gonna head out…” a tiny smile appeared on my face putting my hoodie over my head.

“Oh… why?” his face had saddened making me feel worse then I already did about having to leave.

“I just thought you had wanted me to leave…” we stared at each other for a couple seconds.

“I don’t want you to leave, this is the time where we talk and you know…” he wanted me to finish his sentence but I had no clue where it was going

“We cuddle! It’s like a rule after sex we both have to make sure we’re okay. I mean this only like my third time doing it but that’s how we end it.” I looked at him confused.

“I’ve never done that before… sorry” I sat back on his bed crisscrossed as he took my hand in his.

“You’ve never had aftercare? God i’m sorry Yn.” he pulled me into a tight hug.

It was nice feeling him against me and not just in a sexual way. It was reassuring.

When he pulled away he motioned me to lay my head on his chest as he laid back.

“Can I ask who never gave you aftercare?” he whispered slightly smoothing his hand down my hair not wanting to mess up my curls.

“Uh I’ve only done it once before with a football player from school. Worse mistake of my life.” I laugh trying to lift the mood.

“He had came over and I thought we were gonna watch a movie then he just got right to it and left. What a way to lose your virginity am I right?” a tear fell down my cheek.

When he noticed quiet sniffles he looked down wiping my cheek.

“Hey don’t cry, I won’t ever do that to you never” he promised leaning down to kiss my lips.

“We’re gonna do this again?” my eyes widen “I mean if you want… but I was hoping we could do it as boyfriend and girlfriend” he shly whispered.

“You wanna be my boyfriend?” I tried keeping a smile off my face

“Of course”.

[lizzxoxo]

WE NEED MORE ATJ FANFICS YALL😭 I LITERALLY KEEP SEARCHING EVERYWHERE,HERE,AO3,WATTPAD,I CANT FIND ANYTHING JUST SOME OLD FICS THAT IVE ALREADY READ LIKE 100 TIMEEEES😭😭

[midnightstar-90]

Hey I was wondering if you cloud do a black!reader x Dave Lizewski or Todd Haynes I haven't really seen much of blackreader fics with them

Like a Princess

Todd Haynes x Black! Fem! Reader

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | Other Actors/Characters Masterlist

Summary: After Y/N’s birthday is ruined, Todd comes over, making the girl feel better. He ends up doing her hair and a little more.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Alcohol, Todd has a hair pulling kink (But NO Smut, Just Making Out)

A/N: I’ve never been good with writing stuff like kissing, so I’m sorry if this is terrible.

Words: 2.8K words

A girl’s 16th birthday is one of the most special times in a girl's life. Not only is she celebrating 16 years of her life, but she’s also aging into a new form of maturity. And for Y/N, that form of maturity was getting her license. She had been studying for months, and her father promised her a car fit for a princess on her birthday.

“So, what are you doing for your birthday, Y/N?” Y/N’s friend, Todd, asked.

“Mom said we could go to the Cheesecake Factory for my birthday. She said I could invite you all, also,” Y/N replied.

“Sick.”

“Sounds cool.”

“That sounds fun,” Todd, Marty, and Dave said simultaneously.

Y/N clapped her hands in excitement. “Yay! Okay, I’ll tell my mom that you all are all down to go,” She said with a wide grin. The boys all smiled at the girl as they watched their friend practically dance down the hallway. But something else, besides happiness, lit up inside of Todd. Something that made him want to protect the girl at all costs, but he didn’t know what.

Y/N’s birthday had barely started before a female voice, that she recognized as her mother’s, yelled through the house. “Y/F/N (Your Father’s Name), get your ass down these steps right now,” She yelled. It took a second before the sound of her father’s slow and tired steps made its way out of her parents' shared room and down the steps, just as her mother ordered.

Y/N watched her father through the crack of her door, noticing her father’s posture wasn’t straight and confident like it usually was. It was tense as if he were in pain. And he stumbled when he walked. Y/N frowned, knowing that this would only lead to disaster.

When her father got downstairs, all she could hear was the anger in her mother’s voice. “Where were you last night?” Y/M/N (Your Mother’s Name) asked Y/F/N. All she could hear from her father was some slurred mumbles.

“This is not the first time, Y/F/N. You keep doing this,” She cried.

Y/N didn’t know what was going on. But she did know that whatever was happening had to do with her father coming home late at night. Not wanting to ruin her delightful mood that came with her birthday, Y/N closed her door, not wanting to hear her parents argue.

But her time to herself was cut short when a loud, “What?” from her mother and a loud bang was heard through the floor. Y/N raced downstairs, but stayed hidden.

“Y/F/N, it’s her birthday. How could you do this to her?” Y/N heard her mother ask her father. Y/N looked down with mixed feelings of confusion and sadness. ‘What could my father have done to hurt me?’ She asked herself.

“Mom? Dad?” Y/N spoke, leaving her hiding spot.

When Y/M/N saw you walk in, her face lit up with a smile, as if nothing happened. But by the looks in her eyes, she could tell that something was wrong.

“Y/N, dear, what are you doing down here, I thought you were getting ready for your party,” Y/M/N said in a caring tone. A tone that wasn’t expressed just a second ago.

“I heard a loud noise and yelling. I was just making sure everything was okay,” Y/N told her mother with a nervous smile. She looked between her father and mother. Her father stayed slumped over the counter with a shameful look, and her mother stood straight as a pencil with a smile big enough to hid a lie.

But her mothers smile didn’t hold for long. As Y/N spoke, her smile slowly began to fade into a frown. “Actually, Honey, we have something to tell you,” Her mother uttered.

Nervous, Y/N slowly stepped towards her parents. When she stood between her parents her mother began to speak again. “Honey, your father is an alcoholic,” Y/M/N said, hating that she had to say those words. She never wanted her daughter to think any less of her father, but now it was coming to affect her too. “And he has been for awhile.” Y/F/N looked away, disappointed in himself.

Y/N looked over at her father with a sad look. “Dad?” She whispered quietly. When he didn’t say anything, she walked over to him and gave him a hug. He still looked away from the girl as he softly pushed Y/N off of him. “I spent all the money I had saved up for your car, and some of our money for the bills,” He softly spoke, closing his eye as to not cry.

Y/N looked at her father in shock. “What?” Her voice cracked as she questioned her father. “But you promised me,” She said as stray tears began to roll down her face. Y/M/N looked away from her daught, unable to look at her daughter while she was in pain.

“I’m sorry,” Her father mumbled.

Y/N shook her head with angry tears now streaming down her face. “No,” she whispered. “No, you aren’t sorry, because if you were, you won’t have done it. You made your choice. You chose alcohol over your own daughter.” And with that she was gone. Back upstairs to the only place she knew she could let herself go. “Happy fucking birthday to me,” She yelled out, slamming her door.

Y/F/N and Y/M/N looked at eachother, both crying. They didn’t know what to say or do to eachother, only that they disappointed their daughter on what should be a happy day.

An hour later, a knock at Y/N’s bedroom door appeared, signaling someone wanting to come in. Y/N lifted her head out of her pillow and said, “I don’t want to talk to you, dad.” Her face landed back into the pillow as someone walked in.

“Usually, I would make a joke about this, but I don’t think it’s the time for that,” Todd Joked, walking over to her bed.

“I told you guys not to come. The party is canceled,” Y/N mumbled into her pillow.

Todd sat next to Y/N on her bed as he looked down at her with a sad smile. Hesitantly, he moved his hand to her thick, nappy hair. He wasn’t sure if it was the right move, mostly because she had never let him touch her hair, but he didn’t care. He gently plowed his fingers through her soft hair, careful not to pull a knot.

“What happened?” He asked the girl, repeating the motion. He didn’t get a response from the girl. Instead, Y/N sat up, forcing Todd’s fingers out of her hair as she sat criss-crossed across from him.

She pushed the hair out of her face before she softly spoke, “My father is an alcoholic who spent all his money, including my ‘16th birthday’ car fund on booze.”

She looked down, burying her face in her hands. Todd looked away, contemplating on what to say. A few seconds go by before he begins to speak. “That sucks. But you shouldn’t let not getting a car ruin your birthday. Just because you didn’t get something you really wanted now doesn’t mean you won’t ever get it,” He said with a smile.

Y/N’s hands left her face as she let out a depressed sigh. Todd looked up at the girl, noticing how sad she looked. Dried tear stains ran down her face, her nostrils flared with every breath she took, and her full lips quivered as she cried.

Todd leaned over so he could wipe her face. “Stop crying. A princess should never cry on her birthday.” His words brought a smile to Y/N’s face as she slowly looked Todd in the eye. “How about a makeover?” Todd asked with a gleeful grin.

Y/N gave the boy an unsure look, “Mmm, I don’t know, Todd.”

“Come on. I’ve never done hair before, but that’s what the internet is for,” Todd said with a grin.

“I’ve never trusted anyone other than my mother and I with my hair. My hair can get difficult to manage.”

“Then you can guide me through it. Come on, Y/N. I just want you to feel better,” Todd begged.

Y/N contemplated Todd’s offer. On one hand, she had a friend who just wanted to distract her from the mess of a morning she had experienced today. But then there was the fact that that friend didn’t know anything about hair, let alone black girl hair. Y/N thought for another second before answering the brown-eyed boy.

“Mmm… Fine, you can give me a makeover,” She sighed. Todd’s fists flew through the air. “Yes!” He called out excitedly. His reaction made Y/N look at her friend as if he were crazy.

Catching her looks, he looked over at Y/N confused, and asked, “What?” She shrugged him off, as if nothing happened, and got up to get her hair products.

The first thing Y/N instructed Todd to do was wash her hair. That alone took an hour, leaving Y/N with a sour impression.

“Are you mad?” He asked as he and Y/N walked back into her room. She wore a towel on her head as she angrily turned toward the brown haired boy. “Y/N head is burning?” She spoke through her teeth.

“You told me to comb out your hair with the conditioner in,” He argued.

“Yeah, and you did, but you didn’t comb it as I told you to. I said comb from bottom to top. You did the exact opposite,” Y/N glared at the boy.

“How was I supposed to know?” Todd asked, dramatically throwing his arms through the air.

“Um, I don’t know- maybe the 1,500 times I yelled, “Ow”,” Y/N seethed through her teeth.

Todd took a deep breath before speaking to the girl once more. “Okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t listen, but I promise the styling section will be much easier.”

Todd had lied when he said he’d be listen. It seemed that every time Y/N told him what comb to use, he would use the exact opposite of what she asked for. He aggressively went at the knots in her hair, but in the end it worked out fine.

Y/N decided to instruct Todd through a basic braid. She didn’t feel he was ready for anything more than that. And by the pain from the process, she felt as if she should have started with the classic high ponytail. But Todd didn’t do all bad.

Y/N stood in front of her mirror, admiring Todd’s work in the reflection. “I don’t know, Toddy. I’m conflicted,” she spoke as she looked at herself from all angles.

“Conflicted? For what?” Todd asked, confused. He sat on the girls bed, watching her with admiration.

“Letting you do my hair,” she replied with a scoff.

Todd looked at the dark-skinned girl, bewildered. He aggressively slapped his palm to his chest and grabbed it in pain. “Ouch!” Todd joked.

Y/N laughed at his antics before turning to face him. “You tried to kill me!” She exclaimed.

Todd was no longer focused on the conversation. He couldn’t help but block out everything but her laugh. It was a beautiful sound that allowed a peaceful sensation to wash through him, like the sounds of birds chirping in the morning.

“How would you like it if I tried to pull all your hair out at once?” Y/N spoke, walking towards the boy. Not listening, Todd nodded his head. It wasn’t until the girl went to grab his hair that he realized what she said. Leaning back, Todd shook his head frantically and yelled out, “Y/N? Y/N, no. Stop!” Y/N laughed as she pounced on the boy, causing the two to roll around, wrestling with each other as Y/N continued to grab Todd’s hair.

It only took about 3 minutes for Todd to tap out. Y/N sat on top of the boy, straddling his waist, and out of breath. Todd looked up at the girl, turned on by the situation.

Before today, Todd had always admired the girl from afar, scared she would reject him. But at this moment, Todd wasn’t scared. Taking a deep breath, his eyes scaled the girl’s body before going back up to her eyes. “You’re very pretty, Y/N,” Todd mumbled in a breath-less whisper. Y/N’s cheeks grew warm at Todd’s words. Todd noticed this before slowly leaning up, whispering into the girl's ear, “Is it bad that I want to kiss you?”

The room was quiet. While Todd waited for an answer, Y/N sat on top of the boy with her lips parted. She didn’t know what to say. She was speechless. Y/N looked down at the boy, noticing his brown eyes that glistened in the light of her lamp. Or the soft curls that rested on top of his head.

Y/N contemplated the boy’s words before resting one of her hands on the boy’s cheek. As she leaned down, her other hand rested against his side. Todd’s breath hitched at the thought of how close their lips were to each other. A second later, Y/N’s lips collided with his. Their lips slowly moved against the others.

The hand on Todd’s cheek moved up to grip his hair. When she gave his hair a light tug, she felt a moan against her lips. The girl smirked against the boy’s lips and did it again. Todd moaned once more, grabbing onto the girl's hips. Their kiss lasted for a few more seconds before the two pulled away. Both of them desperately gasped for air as they looked at each other with hungry eyes.

The two were about to go for round two when a loud knock came from Y/N’s door. Y/N quickly rolled off of Todd, clumsily falling onto the floor, before the door opened. Dave and Marty walked inside, looking between the two. Between Todd’s messy hair and red face and Y/N’s awkward position on the floor, the two couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“What’s going on,” Dave asked, confused.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Y/N frantically asked. She stood up and straightened herself out.

Dave’s eyes scrunched at Y/N’s question, making him rebuttal with, “We did knock. And now that I’m standing here, I think we should have waited.” Marty stood behind Dave looking at Todd with an impressed smile.

Y/N saw this and scoffed. “Ya think,” she spoke, angrily.

“Okay, we're sensing some hostility. We were going to see if you maybe wanted to go out to eat, for your birthday. But since you’re going to act like this, we’ll just leave,” Dave said, turning to leave.

“Have fun, you two,” Marty added before leaving with Dave.

Y/N looked over at the curly haired boy, noticing that he was giving her a look that said that they should go with them. Y/N looked away with an annoyed sigh. “Fine, Dave, we’ll go!” She called out to the boys.

The two slowly backed into the girl’s room, giving her a smile that they knew would irritate her. They cupped their ears and turned so their ears faced the girl. “What was that?” They teased.

“We’ll go,” she said through her teeth.

“Okay then. Birthday girl, you get ready to go. Lover boy, you come with us,” Dave said, calling Todd over. Todd and Y/N looked at each other, knowing they would never live down this moment. Todd got up and left with the other boys.

Y/N watched as the door closed behind them before pulling a wide smile on her face. She went over to her closet, pulling out a baby pink babydoll top and light blue mom jeans. She put the clothes on and put on a silver chain her father gave her last year. Gripping the necklace, she moved it between her fingers, remembering the day her father gave it to her before going to put on some matching ankle strapped flats.

Y/N gave herself one last look in the mirror and left her room. “Ready to go,” Y/N said, leading the boys down the stairs.

“Wow, nice braid, Y/N,” Marty said. Even though she couldn’t see it she knew Todd was blushing at Y/N’s smile that appeared when Marty spoke. She was proud and he knew.

“Only the best for the princess,” Todd said with a smile as he went to open the door for the girl.

If your user is in red, it means that I couldn't find you. Please let me know if you would still like to be added to my taglist.

If you would like to be added, fill out the Taglist form using the “Taglist” button at the top. 😁

Taglist: @buckysmainhxe, @rottenstyx, @esposadomd, @liltimmyst, @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[gothcsz]

Obvious | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 4 of Unscripted Desire | ~12k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Life after quitting the porn industry.

Tags: halloween vibes, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex (protected), getting bent over in a parking garage, frankie heavy beginning (they had us in the first half not gonna lie), speaking of frankie he wears the ghostface mask while hitting it, connie has entered this little universe, masturbation with vibrator (f), clit stimulation, dirty talk, pussy slapping, JUST THE TIP!!!!, no use of y/n, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: surpriseeeee, i woke up a little too inspired to write and voila, out came this beautiful chapter that i was not expecting to get out so soon. again, this fic has def taken off in ways i never imagined but uhhh, we out here 🖤 thanks to everyone for the support, frankie girlies (gn) i hope i did your man justice 'cause i was feeling a little too feral for him. as for my just the tip stans... we did it joe 🤠 i hope you guys fucking love this the way i do and that you ruined your underwear... just as i did 🖤

The cool autumn breeze sweeps over you as you walk out of the movie theater with Frankie, the Halloween spirit in full swing. Scream 2 was as thrilling as ever, and your favorite of the trilogy.

The fall season always makes you feel nostalgic, and tonight has been no exception—dinner, a movie, and Frankie by your side for the past month has made things feel better than they have been for quite some time now.

“It’s not that hard to escape the bastard,” Frankie says confidently, as if he’d be the first to survive the whole ordeal. “He’s just some guy—or girl—wearing a mask with a knife. I’d have them handled in five minutes. Tops.”

You laugh, humoring him. “Oh, I’m sure you would.”

The parking garage is mostly empty, dimly lit as you make your way to his truck, parked at the top level. You’re talking casually about the film when he suddenly slows down, a mischievous smirk creeping across his face. He corners you slowly, backing you against the cool metal of the truck, his presence looming as you feel the tension rise. 

“Or,” he says, voice dropping lower, “I could be a real kickass Ghostface.”

Your eyes flick to the mask in his hand, the complimentary one that came with the tickets, and then back to him. His dark brown eyes gleam with playful intent, and a thrill shoots through you. “Oh yeah?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow.

He grins, slipping his cap off and pulling the mask over his face. Oh, shit. You’ve never had a mask kink before, but something about Frankie wearing it like this, his body pressing closer, has your pulse racing. 

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He asks, his voice lowering to mimic what’d you just seen, a smooth yet eerie tone. It’s almost too good, too convincing, and you suddenly understand why people fantasize about this kind of thing.

You bite your lip, your mind swirling with desire as his hand slides down to your hip, squeezing gently. “I don’t have one,” you say, teasing him. You can barely see his eyes through the mask’s slits, but the way his head tilts makes your stomach flip.

“Oh, c’mon, hermosa,” he purrs, “don’t lie to me.”

You giggle nervously, feeling the heat between you both intensify. Glancing around to make sure you’re still alone, you place a hand on his chest, letting it slide down slowly until it reaches his belt. He grunts in response, his free hand gripping the back of your head tightly. The pressure sends a shiver down your spine, and you whimper softly.

“You’re liking this, aren’t you?” He asks, voice muffled slightly by the mask but dripping with lust.

“More than I’d like to admit,” you breathe out, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. And before you can process it, your jeans and underwear are being pulled down to your mid-thigh. Frankie wastes no time, maneuvering you into the backseat of the truck. You’re bent over, ass out, hands pressed against the cool leather as you hear him undo his belt, the sound of his zipper punctuating the quiet.

He’s quick, efficient, rolling a condom over his thick cock before positioning himself behind you. His hand grips your hip as he thrusts into you, and you gasp as he fills you, the mask still firmly on his face. 

It’s fucking amazing. Frankie fucks you like no one ever has—not like it’s for show or performance, but feverent and real. Each thrust hits the perfect spot inside you, sending your vision into a haze of stars. You’re more vocal than you’ve ever been, moaning his name, asking for more.

“Harder,” you whine, and he obliges, his nails digging into your hips as he pounds into you relentlessly. His grunts mix with your moans, the sound echoing in the empty parking garage. 

When he’s close, he finally pulls the mask off, tossing it aside before leaning down, kissing and nipping at your neck. His fingers move below you, rubbing at your sensitive clit as you clench around him, your orgasm rushing through you.

His teeth graze your skin as you both reach your peak, your body trembling as he groans, his release following yours.

He stills inside you, breathing heavily against your neck, and for a moment, everything is still—just you, him, and the night. You smile, feeling content, and he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder before slowly pulling out, leaving you both breathless in the backseat of his truck.

“Well, fuck.” Frankie curses under his breath, tying the condom off with a quick motion. His hands, now gentler, reach for yours as he helps you up, both of you quickly fixing your clothes and appearances.

Once you’re situated, you spin around to face him, your fingers lightly brushing his jaw as you lean in to kiss him. It’s sweet, and the soft smack of your lips echoes through the empty parking garage.

“That was amazing,” you say, still a little breathless, your heart still racing in your chest.

A smirk plays on his lips as he puts his cap back on and tosses the used condom in a nearby trash bin. “Gonna have to hold onto this,” he says, nodding toward the Ghostface mask, now thrown carelessly into the backseat. There’s a playful gleam in his eyes, that flirty, teasing edge you’ve come to expect from him.

“It was definitely a heat-of-the-moment thing,” you say, trying to play it cool, though you can’t help the little grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Mhm, sure it was.” He winks, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you as he starts the engine, the rumble of his truck echoing as he pulls out of the garage.

The streets are alive with the Halloweekend night crowd. People spill out of bars, laughter and chatter drifting through the air as Frankie navigates through the bustling costumed scene. You catch sight of a group of friends stumbling onto the sidewalk, and you’re grateful that your apartment’s entrance is around the back, away from all the noise and chaos.

Frankie pulls up across the street from your place, parking the truck and turning to you with a slightly furrowed brow. “Not really a fan of your current living arrangement,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes serious.

You shrug, reaching for your purse. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” though you can’t deny you’ve felt the same way. The cramped apartment above a rowdy bar wasn’t your dream setup, but it’s what you’ve got for now.

Leaning over the console, you peck his lips once, twice, then again. What starts as a series of playful kisses quickly turns into something more, your hands finding his stubbled jaw as his fingers graze your thigh. Before long, you’re fully making out again.

When you finally pull away, your lips tingling, you ask softly, “Wanna come up?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes search yours for a moment, considering something. But then, with a slow nod, he says, “Yeah, okay.” His voice is steady, but there’s that familiar heat beneath it, the same one that had you wrapped up in the backseat earlier.

The following morning is spent with the both of you lazily lounging around your apartment, only leaving to pick up  a late breakfast from your favorite spot around the corner before you’re back in bed, sleeping the day away.

You’re barely aware of the warm breath ghosting over your inner thighs as you shift in your sleep, legs lazily spread across the bed. A sleepy moan slips out when you feel soft lips pressing against your pussy, then a firmer kiss followed by a slow drag of a tongue. 

You stir, half-dazed, your fingers instinctively moving to the unruly curls of hair between your legs as the sensation intensifies. Frankie’s lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently, and it sends a shock of pleasure through your body, waking you up fully.

“Oh,” his name slips from your lips like a breathless confession. 

You can feel his grin against you, hear the low groan vibrating through your sensitive flesh as he takes his time, his tongue swirling around you in lazy circles, savoring your taste.

Just for a second, a flash of something—or someone—else crosses your mind. Javier. The thought of him, of the way he’d made you fall apart that day in the elevator, flickers in your mind like a flame.

Your eyes fly open in shock, and you gasp, but Frankie is none the wiser. He assumes your reaction is all because of him, and that only spurs him on. His lips press harder against you as he brings two fingers up, spreading you open gently before sinking them inside. 

You shake your head, mentally shoving him back into the recesses where he belongs.

With a determined focus, you let yourself melt back into the pleasure, letting go of everything else. “Pussy tastes so good, hermosa,” he mumbles, as he works his mouth and fingers together, creating a messy, perfect rhythm that has your thighs clenching around his head.

It’s all too much, too good, and you can’t help the way your body writhes beneath him.

Your moans fill the room, louder and more desperate, hips lifting and chasing the pleasure as the tension in your spine coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, and you come undone all over his lips and fingers.

Frankie doesn’t stop right away—his lips stay on you, moving with less intensity now, just soft kisses as you come down from your high. He places a final, lingering kiss to your clit before he crawls up your body, kissing a path along your skin. You’re still wearing his t-shirt, your body half exposed, and he grins down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with satisfaction. 

“Figured you needed something to help get you through your shift,” he says, his voice teasing yet full of affection.

You give him a lazy, fucked-out smile, still catching your breath. “It’s gonna help me with more than just my shift, mister. You just gave me something new to add to my spank bank.”

He shakes his head playfully. “Spank bank, huh? Glad to be of service,” he adds with a wink, leaning in for another kiss, slower this time. You can’t help but run your hands over his arms, admiring the small scars, the beauty marks that dot his tan skin.

“Are you coming back tonight?” You ask softly, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for a peck.

He sighs against your lips before shaking his head. “Can’t. I’ve got Elliana this weekend,” he says, his tone softening as he mentions his four-year-old daughter. You haven’t met her yet, the two of you keeping things casual and slow.

Neither of you wants anything serious, but hearing him mention his daughter always adds a layer of sweetness to him that makes you feel warm.

You nod in understanding, pulling him down for one final kiss before you force yourself to get up and start getting ready for work. He watches you, that same teasing, affectionate glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but smile back at him, grateful for whatever this is between you two.

“You just got fucked, didn’t you?” Connie’s voice hits you the second you step behind the bar, her eyebrows wiggling with mischief as she leans against the counter, arms crossed over her Princess Peach costume that’s not really a costume—just a pink tennis dress with the signature crown atop of her head. 

“Hello to you too, Connie.” You give her a sarcastic smile, securing the half apron around your waist. It’s a routine now—her prying into your business like an investigative reporter for the gossip section.

Reminds you of another blond, and now you wonder if they’re all just like this.

Your firecracker of a coworker is an E.R. nurse who took on this bartending gig a few months after you did. The fact that she has to hustle for tips despite being in healthcare is one of those cruel ironies you both bitch about during slow shifts. You’d think a nurse would be raking in cash, but there are nights here at Lucky’s where she pulls more than at the hospital.

“I’m just saying,” Connie continues, mid-lemon slice, her eyes narrowing in exaggerated suspicion. “You’re wearing your cute jeans, your shirt’s actually clean, and—wait, is that makeup on your face? Please don’t tell me you’re in cat ears!” She pauses, blade in hand, smirking at you like she’s cracked some secret code.

Your face warms up as you adjust the stupid cat ears on your head. Yeah, she’s nailed it—hooking up with Frankie before your shift definitely put some extra pep in your step tonight. A little effort never hurt, especially when looking put-together meant better tips.

It’s Halloween, and people tend to tip better when you’re festive. So, why not milk it for all it’s worth?

“Just capitalizing off the holiday, Con. Is that a crime?” You say, bending down to grab the ice buckets for a quick refill before the evening rush hits.

“No, what is a crime,” she says, not missing a beat as she narrows her eyes at you, tossing the lemons aside, “is you skimping out on the juicy details of your love life.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that slips out as you hip-check her on your way to the ice machine. “I’m not skimping. It’s not like I’ve been hiding some wild love affair. We only started fucking, what, like two weeks ago?”

“And?” She leans forward, hands on her hips, waiting like she’s tuning in for the next episode of her favorite drama.

You bite your lip, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “It’s… fucking amazing.”

She whistles, then throws her hands up in celebration. You can’t help but laugh—loudly—your mood is too good to even pretend to be embarrassed.

Grabbing the freshly filled ice buckets, you lug them back behind the bar, your arms burning slightly from the weight, but you’re not complaining. Between lugging buckets and keeping the bar stocked, who needs a gym membership?

“I’m so jealous. I can’t even remember the last time I slept with a guy and actually enjoyed it,” She says with a dramatic sigh, leaning her elbows on the bar.

“Trust me, I was in the same boat for the longest time. Then Frankie just… showed up,” you say with a small, satisfied smile. It’s true, he kind of did swoop in out of nowhere, and it’s been surprisingly easy with him since.

But, of course, there’s that brief hiccup in your mind that involves Javier. 

You push the thought of him away, like you’ve been doing for weeks. What happened earlier in bed with Frankie was just a slip-up, your subconscious messing with you.

“Well, I need a guy to just show up and fuck me so I can think straight again,” she half-jokes, and the two of you burst into laughter, the kind that shakes your shoulders and draws a few curious glances from nearby patrons.

As the night picks up, the bar gets busier, and the usual rhythm settles in. You and Connie move in sync, the crowd buzzing with energy.

Costumes, chatter, and the clinking of glasses surround you, but you’re in your zone. It’s not until about two hours later, as you’re pouring someone’s vodka soda, that you catch sight of a familiar face sliding into a barstool in front of you.

“Long time no see, stranger,” you greet Steve over the music, already reaching for his usual piss beer and uncapping it before sliding it across the counter.

“Work’s been fucking ass,” he replies, taking a long, much-needed gulp from the bottle. You can see the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“Robbie still being an asshole, I presume?” You ask, shifting away to take another patron’s order while keeping half an ear out for whatever fresh hell your ex-boss has put Steve through now.

Steve’s attention, though, is fixed on something—or rather, someone—else. His gaze locks on Connie, who’s busy putting on a little show for a group of birthday girls. She’s expertly pouring a line of shots, lighting them on fire, and sliding them toward the group, who erupt into cheers.

“She seein’ anyone?” He asks, leaning in closer, like he’s trying to keep the question discreet. Between the thumping music and the lively chatter, Connie wouldn’t hear him even if he shouted.

You raise a brow. “Like I told you last time—and like she told you the time before—no.”

“Then why’s she always shuttin’ me down?” He frowns, frustration creasing his face.

You shrug, wiping down the perpetually sticky counter. “Probably because you only approach her here, when you’re halfway through a six-pack. Connie’s not looking for bullshit—she deals with enough of that here and at the hospital.”

Steve scoffs, taking another hefty swig of his beer. “Right. You bartenders are tough to crack.”

You smirk, knocking your knuckles on the wooden bar top. “Maybe, but we’re worth the effort.”

Steve chuckles at that. “Now, spill. I’ve barely seen you since I quit.” You’re curious, and maybe just a little petty.

He groans, tipping his head back as if the memory of work physically pains him. And a part of you—maybe the slightly vindictive part—waits eagerly to hear about how Robbie’s screwing up, still secretly wishing for your old boss’s downfall.

“Longer shoots for lesser pay. And the fucking guys he’s been hiring— Christ Almighty. S’been a fuckin’ shitshow since you walked out,” You feel pride swell up in your chest at the remembrance, how good it felt to stick up for yourself. “But especially since Javier kicked his ass to the curb. I’m the last one standing.”

You barely have time to absorb this before a rowdy group of frat boys descends on the bar, demanding drinks with the enthusiasm of toddlers in a candy store.

You want to wring their necks for interrupting your train of thought, especially since curiosity about what happened with Javier is gnawing at you.

Why do you care? That small voice in your head questions, but you put her on mute and focus on fulfilling the orders of these insufferable college students.

Noticing you’re tied up, Steve hops down a few barstools, positioning himself in front of Connie, trying to charm her again. You can’t help but catch snippets of his pickup lines as you whirl about behind the bar. To your surprise, Connie seems receptive this time, laughing and engaging with him instead of brushing him off like before.

Good for her—she deserves a bit of fun, especially after just saying she needed to get laid. You hope Steve has learned a thing or two from all those shoots.

Amid the chaos, you break through their flirting when Connie has to prepare another round of shots. “So, Javier quit?” you ask, the words spilling out before you can hold them back.

Steve, clearly happy as hell that his advances have finally worked, shoots you a smug grin. “Yup. Him and Robbie were arguing more and more then he pulled a you and stormed off set. It’s just him and his agent now. He isn’t signing on to just one production company anymore. Don’t be surprised if you see him sellin’ tricks on Figueroa.”

A frown tugs at your lips, the bittersweet news settling in your chest. You can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for Javier.

“Why are you askin’? You miss him or somethin’? Thought you were still bangin’ it out with that camera guy from Malibu.” His tone is teasing, reminiscent of a little brother trying to get under your skin.

You snort, rolling your eyes and collecting the empty glasses into a plastic bin. “ I’m just surprised. This is like, his whole thing.”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, he hasn’t been working as much. I’ve never seen the guy be this… still. Told him maybe it’s a good thing—he can finally chill the fuck out and give his dick a break.”

You can’t help but laugh, handing him another beer. “I can’t even imagine what else he’d do. Can you seriously picture Javier Peña working a 9 to 5?”

Steve grins, scratching his chin as if pondering the idea. “I dunno, he could be a good car salesman. Maybe even insurance?”

You both chuckle, but as you excuse yourself to put away the dirty dishes, your mind lingers on Javier. It’s like a weird domino effect: your departure had shaken things up, and now a small part of you feels somewhat responsible for this mess.

No, you shouldn’t feel this way. He’ll figure it out. You really shouldn’t waste this much time ‘worrying’ about him. He means nothing to you. End of story.

The rest of your shift flows smoothly, and you end up pocketing more tips than you anticipated. Even the late hour—almost four in the morning—doesn’t faze you as you and Connie finish cleaning up and closing.

“You can stay the night if you want. I’m sure you don’t want to wait for the bus this late,” you suggest, watching her mop with a satisfied smile.

“Actually…” She pauses, wringing out the mop head. Your brows raise at her tone, and she bites her lip. “My ride is waiting for me out front.”

You piece it together in an instant, halting mid-count of the twenty-dollar bills. “No way, you finally gave in to Steve!”

Connie’s face lights up with a sheepish smile. “I thought he was cute since day one. I just couldn’t let him get to me so easily. Play hard to get, you know? See if he really wanted me as badly as he said he did.”

You hum, shaking your head with a grin as you resume counting. “Atta girl. Enjoy yourself, you deserve it.”

As you finish up, you hug Connie goodbye, watching as she excitedly jumps into Steve’s Jeep. You trudge up the creaky stairs to your place, feeling a bit lonely now.

The remnants of Frankie’s presence linger in your cramped apartment: his side of the bed still mussed, a crumpled T-shirt on the floor, and takeaway containers from earlier scattered on your small kitchen table.

With a sigh, you take off your cat ears and head straight for the shower, hoping to wash away the lingering thoughts of both Javier and Frankie before slipping into the quiet of your own bed.

Frankie stands in your living room, his expression serious but soft, while you sit on the couch, staring up at him.

You foolishly didn’t think this would happen—at least not this soon, only two months in. His words are steady, measured, like he’s practiced this. “Elliana’s mom and I… we’re trying to work things out.”

The lump in your throat rises, but you refuse to let it crack your voice. You won’t give in to the urge to cry. It’s not like you didn’t expect this on some level—dating a man with a child meant his ex would always be in the picture. And now, she’s front and center. 

“I understand…”

He exhales deeply at seeing you like this. He sits next to you, close but not invasive, and his presence—still so familiar—only sharpens the ache. You don’t pull away, though everything inside you screams to. Even if this is the right way to end things, you have every right to feel a sting. 

You weren’t serious-serious, but you’d gotten used to him. His easy warmth, the random dates that brightened your week, the small slice of domesticity you didn’t realize you’d grown to like. And the sex… God, you’re not ready to give that up, either. 

“I didn’t mess around with her while we were together. You have to know that,” he adds, his voice low, calm, as if trying to make sure you’re not left with any doubts. He rests his hand on your knee, grounding you in the moment, though you wish he wouldn’t. 

“I know you’re not that guy, Frankie. It just sucks being broken up with,” you say, forcing a smile, lightening your tone as if to keep the tears at bay.

He sighs again, his big brown eyes—those damn puppy eyes—locking onto yours. “I really enjoyed my time with you,” he says, sounding sincere. “It was great. You’re great.”

You nod, just wanting this to be over so you can sink yourself into your sheets and rot for the rest of the day. 

“Likewise, Frankie. Now go make sure your daughter’s got a stable home to grow up in.” You try to smile again, but it’s weaker this time. He can see through it, you know, but he nods anyway.

You walk him to the door, making a quick detour to your bedroom to gather the few t-shirts he’s left behind. When you hand them to him, he grins, trying to lift the mood. “So that’s where these went.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit of a t-shirt hoarder,” you joke back, your voice hollow.

He pauses at the door, his eyes lingering on you longer than you’d like.

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too, hermosa,” he replies, the affection in the word making your heart squeeze.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, you let yourself collapse against it, sliding down until you’re sitting on the floor, knees drawn up to your chest. The tears come silently at first, just a slow trickle, but soon they’re streaking down your cheeks as you curl into yourself.

You hate dating. You’ve always hated it. It feels like a cycle of disappointments: either you’re stuck with some dud or, worse, you find someone worth a damn, and they leave anyway. 

After crying it out for a few minutes, you force yourself to wipe away the tears. The ache in your chest lingers, but you’re determined to distract yourself, dragging your feet over to the entertainment center. Your hand glides over the familiar spines of DVDs and VHS tapes, searching for the right kind of escape, something to pair with the bottle of wine you’ll snag from downstairs.

You reach the end of the row and stop on Pretty Woman, about to pull it out, when your fingers brush against a few unmarked DVDs shoved haphazardly in the back. Curious, you pull them out, and your breath hitches.

They’re your old shoots—the first ones you ever did with Javier. The raunchy titles leap out at you, and suddenly, memories of being on set with him flood back. The chemistry, the heat, the way he looked at you when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Your pulse quickens. You should put them back. But you don’t. You weren’t prepared for this— especially not today, freshly dumped, on the verge of a sexual drought, and with your head all messed up.

Fuck it, you have nothing to lose, so you randomly pick one. Pretty Woman gets shoved aside as you clutch the DVD case, a weird thrill running through you.

As if possessed, you march to your bedside table in your bedroom, frantically rummaging for your long-neglected vibrator. It’s been gathering dust since Frankie showed up, but now… now you’re hoping, praying it still works. When you finally find it, you flip it on, and the gentle hum tells you it’s fully charged.

Thank you, past me. You have no idea how much present me needs this.

With a deep breath, you return to the living room and pop the DVD into the player. The screen flickers to life, and you settle onto the couch, heart pounding in your chest as the film begins. 

The anticipation builds as the usual no-piracy warning flashes on the screen, followed by the production company’s intro. Finally, the familiar jazzy porn music kicks in, setting the mood for what’s to come.

You can already feel your pulse racing, knowing what’s next. This one, you remember—it was one of the first outdoor scenes you shot.

The setup was simple, classic: a woman stranded on the side of the road due to car trouble, waiting for a tow truck to save her. The main star, gorgeous as ever, is dressed provocatively in a tiny miniskirt, platform flip-flops, and a tube top that screams easy access. The camera lingers over her, capturing every curve of her body as she fakes helplessness, playing her role perfectly.

Then comes the rumble of the tow truck, and Javier steps out, looking rugged and sexy in dirty jeans and a rumpled denim shirt with a generic towing company patch stitched onto it. His presence alone is enough to make your skin prickle with heat.

“Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be stuck out here like this,” his voice fills the room. God, you hate to admit it, but you’ve missed hearing him—his smooth tone, the way he used to make every line sound like a promise.

Maybe it’s the leftover emotion from Frankie’s breakup that’s doing this to you, making you feel too much.

“Thank goodness you’re here to help me out. I just... I don’t have any money on me right now to pay for it,” the woman pouts, lips glossy, eyes fluttering up at him like she’s the most innocent thing alive.

Javier cocks his head, eyes traveling over her like she’s a piece of candy. “Don’t worry,” he says, that signature smirk appearing on his face. “I think we can figure something out.”

And just like that, they’re fucking. Raw, desperate sex. He has her spread out on the hood of the car, and her tits bounce with every hard thrust. Javier holds her legs wide open, his rough hands gripping her thighs as he slams into her.

The scene is pure, animalistic lust, and it has your head spinning.

A whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. Your moans mix with theirs from the TV, and the steady buzz of your vibrator pulses deep inside you. You match the rhythm of Javier’s thrusts, watching as he pistons his cock in and out of her, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling your living room.

You remember that day on set vividly. You’d been sick, your body still sore from the remnants of a cold, and you’d been eager to get it over with so you could go home and collapse into a warm bowl of pho.

But now, watching the scene play out in front of you, it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time—every detail heightened, every movement burned into your mind.

Javier’s fingers dig into her skin as he holds her in place, his hips grinding into her with force. Her face twists in bliss, and you can’t help but imagine what that must feel like, that deep, toe-curling sensation as he hits just the right spot. You let out another moan, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly as you try to keep up with the scene, your hips rocking in time with theirs.

When he leans down, wrapping his lips around her nipple, it’s like you can feel the phantom of his mouth on your own skin. You bring a hand up to your chest, pinching and twisting your nipple, slicking your fingers with spit to heighten the sensation. It’s almost too much, but you can’t stop yourself.

Your breathing quickens as you turn up the setting on the vibrator, the pleasure building, your back bending off the couch. You close your eyes and let your imagination take over, the image of Javier on top of you searing into your mind—his body, hot and heavy, pressing against yours, his teeth grazing your neck, his hands everywhere at once. You can feel him, hear the grunts and groans from the screen, but in your mind, it’s all for you.

“Nena, look at you,” Javier’s voice murmurs, low and rough in your mind, as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, his words melting into your skin like liquid heat. “Told you you’d look so beautiful spread out like this, taking my cock so well.”

A sharp gasp escapes you, your breath catching in your throat as your pussy clenches tightly around the vibrator, which suddenly feels less like a toy and more like him—big, thick, and filling you completely. You can almost feel the weight of him pressing against you, the way his cock would stretch you just right. Your lips part, another whimper escaping as the scene in your head becomes even more vivid.

“And those noises you’re making?” His voice, rich and dripping with desire, keeps echoing through your thoughts. “Baby, you drive me fucking,” his hips snap forward in your imagination, rough and unrelenting, “crazy,” another thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your neck arches back, exposing your throat like you’re inviting him to claim you, his mouth finding the sensitive skin behind your ear, marking you, biting you. His lips would feel so good, so possessive, leaving trails of heat wherever they touch.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your skin, his breath hot in your ear. “Even after not seeing your pretty face for two months, all I see when I close my eyes is you.”

His teeth graze your earlobe, and it sends a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. Your hand moves from your breast down to your clit, fingers rubbing the tender nub with an urgency you can’t hold back any longer. You’re so close, so fucking close. 

“Oh, J-Javi,” you cry out, your voice breaking. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”

The orgasm slams into you, cutting off your words, drowning your thoughts in white-hot pleasure. Your body spasms uncontrollably, juices dripping down as your vibrator hums between your legs. You’re shaking, utterly spent, your breath ragged, skin on fire.

“Good girl, nenita,” his voice purrs, the Spanish rolling off his tongue like honey. “Mira que belleza. It’s okay, I got you.”

It takes a moment for reality to snap back into place, the haze of pleasure lifting just enough for you to realize that he didn’t say it at all. It was the Javier on the screen, whispering sweet praise to the actress as he fucked her.

You lay there, boneless, too tired to care as the movie continues to play. But something feels off now, a strange sense of emptiness replacing the satisfaction you usually feel.

You pull the vibrator from between your legs, the wetness from your climax glistening on it as you flick the switch off and toss it carelessly onto the coffee table. You’ll clean it later.

Your body slumps against the cushions, head falling into your hands. “What the fuck did you just do?” You whisper to yourself.

Watching porn to get off? That’s normal, right? It’s what it’s made for. Lots of people do it. So why do you feel so… guilty? Is it because it was Javier? Of course it is. No matter how hard you try to push him out of your mind, he always finds a way back in—whether he’s there in front of you, or haunting you in the fantasies, you can’t seem to put him to rest.

And the timing? Not even an hour after being broken up with, and already you’ve let him worm his way back into your head, back into your body. It’s like he’s got you tangled up, literally and figuratively, even when he’s not here.

Unable to take any more of their exaggerated moans and whimpers, you reach for the remote and switch off the TV, the screen going dark as you eject the disc and shove it back into its case. You finally grab Pretty Woman, tossing it into the player without much thought, your head still spinning.

It’s only then that you remember the wine, the one thing that might actually help clear your head. You stand, sluggish and sore, pulling your clothes back on and heading downstairs to fetch that much-needed bottle, your thoughts still racing, still trying to untangle the mess that is Javier Peña lodged firmly in your mind.

“Just know, I didn’t plan this.”

Steve’s words make you squint in suspicion as he slides onto the barstool next to you, his usual spot. You’re about to ask what he means when your heart plummets—there he is. The familiar broad frame of the handsome man you’ve been trying—and failing—to scrub from your mind ever since your breakup two weeks ago. Hell, before then too.

“What’s he doing here?” you hiss, shooting Steve a glare so sharp it could cut glass.

“He caught me off guard, okay? Basically invited himself. Don’t make it weird,” he mutters, clearly trying to avoid your wrath.

You bite down hard on your tongue, trying to keep your frustration in check. But then your gaze collides with Javier’s, and it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you.

Those deep brown eyes, glinting beneath the dim lighting, pin you in place, stirring up everything you’ve been trying to bury. It’s infuriating how he seems even more attractive than the last time you saw him, like life just decided to up the ante on making him impossible to forget.

Clearing your throat, you force yourself to look away, frantically trying to busy your hands. Anything to keep from talking to him. But it’s hard to focus when every cell in your body is hyper-aware of his presence just a few feet away.

“I’m going on break!” Connie’s chirpy voice feels like nails on a chalkboard, and you don’t miss the way she winks at Steve before grabbing his arm and leading him to the back.

Ah, so that’s why he’s here earlier than usual. 

“Thirty minutes!” You shout after her, but your heart’s not in it. You’re too preoccupied with the fact that you’re now alone at the bar with Javier and a few of the happy hour regulars.

He leans forward on his elbows, casual but impossibly magnetic in a jean jacket and a cream-colored shirt. His sunglasses hang from the unbuttoned portion near his collarbones, and you can smell that familiar scent of cigarette smoke and cologne that’s been seared into your memory. “So this is the illustrious Lucky’s,” he says, his deep voice wrapping around you like a slow burn.

“The one and only,” you manage to reply, keeping your tone clipped.

“Been doin’ okay?”

“I’ve been managing.” Your words come out a little too quick, a little too defensive, but you can’t help it. 

He tilts his head, his gaze steady. “Still seeing that guy?”

There’s an unmistakable tinge of jealousy laced in his voice, and your heart skips a beat. You meet his eyes for a moment before going back to drying the cheap chalices your boss insisted on for an upcoming theme night.

“That guy has a name,” you correct him coolly. “But no. That ship sailed two weeks ago.”

A low hum escapes his throat, and he drums his fingers lightly against the countertop. “A shame.”

“Can I get you anything?” You ask, a little too forcefully. The question feels like a challenge, and from the way his eyes glint, you know he feels it too.

He lets the tension simmer between you for a moment before finally answering, “Just a Corona.”

“Lime?” 

“Of course, nena.”

That fucking term of endearment hits you like a punch to the gut. It’s what he’s always called you, ever since the very first time you met. And damn it, it’s the same name he whispers in your ear when you imagine him thrusting balls deep inside you, filling you with every inch of his cock.

Your breath hitches before you can stop it, the heat rising in your cheeks as you fumble for a lime. You slice it, hands shaking ever so slightly as you wedge it into the bottle, sliding it across the bar to him.

He doesn’t say anything, just watches you, his gaze burning with the unspoken tension that always builds when you’re around each other.

You can feel it too—the weight of all the unsaid things hanging in the air. All the desire. All the frustration.

He thanks you softly. “So, Steve finally got himself a girl.” He tries to continue the mundane conversation, amused as he leans in, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You try not to notice the way his neck muscles work when he takes a sip of his beer, but it’s impossible not to. You hate the way your body responds, the small flutter in your stomach that you wish would just stop.

“Yeah, he’s been chasing her for months, and she finally gave in. Probably the best thing that could’ve happened for both of them.”

A patron calls for your attention, and you gladly take the opportunity to escape the moment, throwing yourself into mixing a drink with practiced ease. But even as you pour and stir, you feel his eyes on you.

“You look happier here.” His voice breaks the silence when you return, the words almost lazy as he takes another sip of his beer.

“Fake happiness. It’s what gets the tips.”

“Okay, yeah, sure,” he says, leaning in a little, eyes narrowing. “But the way you’re moving back there—you know what you’re doing. I don’t think I ever saw you crack a single smile while we were on set.”

“I did,” you shoot back, feeling your pulse quicken. “Just none of them were directed at you.” The animosity in your tone surprises even you, and you catch the way his brow furrows, a flash of hurt crossing his face.

You quickly smooth it over with a smirk. “Besides, not much to smile about when people are getting fucked stupid in front of a camera.”

“Back to the familiar song and dance, huh?” His voice is steady, but there’s a sharpness beneath the surface.

You scoff, shaking your head as you wipe your hands on your apron. “What are you doing here, Javier?” This time, the question comes out more straight to the point.

He looks at you for a beat, partially confused, “Drinking a beer…”

“At this specific bar, where I’ve worked for two years and you’ve never once showed up until today. Why?” 

For a moment, the two of you stare at each other, locked in a silent standoff. He’s reading you just as you’re trying to read him, both of you too proud—or too scared—to make the next move. Finally, he breaks the silence.

“You want the truth?”

“That’s why I asked.”

“I’ve missed you, nena.”

Your stomach drops and you force yourself to keep your face neutral, but it’s hard. “I regret asking,” you mutter, glancing at your watch. Connie has fifteen minutes left on her break, then you’re done for the night. You’ll be free—at least from the bar, if not from the weight of this conversation.

“Ever since you left,” he continues, not giving you the out you desperately want, “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re so standoffish. You say it’s because you don’t like me, but I just don’t think that’s true.”

“Well,” you bite out, “assuming has never gotten you anywhere worth being at, right?”

He rubs a hand over his mustache. He’s thinking, trying to find the right words.

“Right,” he finally agrees, tone softer now, more thoughtful. “Listen, I’ve never been good at the whole… talking thing. It’s been my downfall for as long as I can remember.”

Despite yourself, you give him a look that encourages him to keep going.

“And the shit between us? It’s weird. I’d like to move on, but I can’t. You’ve somehow managed to get into every fucking corner of my mind, and no matter what I do, I can’t shake you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You suck in a sharp breath, your fingers gripping the wooden countertop. His words hit too close to home because they echo the feelings you’ve been wrestling with since you walked away from him.

Do you admit it? Do you tell him that he’s been haunting your thoughts just as much? Or do you keep it all locked up, close to your chest, where it’s safe and won’t blow up in your face later?

“What do you really want, Javier?” You don’t have time for games, and if he’s here to throw another curveball into your life, you’d rather snip it before it gets any worse.

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, then looks back at you with an expression you haven’t seen in a while—one that’s sincere. “I just want a moment to talk to you,” he says softly. “No bullshit this time. Just you and me.”

You wrestle with yourself, unsure if you want to give in. You’ve heard him talk like this before, but something feels different. He seems like he’s laying all his cards out, but you’ve been hurt enough to know better than to let your guard down too quickly.

Your eyes flick to the clock on the wall, counting the minutes until your shift ends. You chew on your lip, deliberating with yourself, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to make a decision.

Finally, after a beat, you let out a long breath and nod. “I’m off in twenty minutes,” you say, voice steady. “We can talk at my place, but this is the last time we have this conversation, Javier. No more of this back and forth.”

His face lights up, unmistakably relieved, and for a second, you see that glimmer of hope in his eyes. He sits a little taller, less tense, and his smile is soft but genuine. “Thank you,” he says, almost under his breath, like he wasn’t sure you’d agree. “I parked a few blocks down. I can come get you—”

You cut him off, pointing upward. “I live upstairs.”

Javier blinks, then chuckles, the tension between you easing slightly with that simple realization. “Oh,” he says, a little sheepish. “Okay.” For some reason, that small exchange makes both of you laugh—genuine, real laughter, the kind you haven’t shared in a while. It’s a brief moment of lightness before the weight of everything settles back in.

But before either of you can say more, you’re pulled back to the present as the place picks up with a small rush. The door swings open, and a few regulars take their usual spots, dragging you back into your role behind the bar. Javier moves out of the way, leaning back against his stool, watching you as you work.

It doesn’t take long for Connie to return, looking slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed from whatever she and Steve were up to in the back. You raise an eyebrow, giving her a teasing smirk as she approaches. “Thirty minutes, huh? You sure you didn’t need forty?” You quip, poking fun at her the same way she did to you on Halloween night.

She narrows her eyes at you, but there’s a playful glint in them. “Shut up,” she mutters, straightening her apron. “You know I could’ve dragged it out longer if I wanted.”

You shake your head, chuckling as you hand over the bar to the guy coming in to replace you. Your shift is finally over, and you can feel the tension easing from your shoulders. With one last glance at the clock, you turn toward Javier, who’s still waiting, watching you with that familiar intensity.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice more casual than you feel.

He nods, pushing off the counter to follow you out. Thankfully, Steve had left, but as you pass Connie, you don’t miss the way her eyes widen when she sees the sexy guy trailing behind you. She gives you a look—half amused, half impressed—and you can practically hear her thoughts.

You give her a small wave, shrugging off her knowing smirk as you push through the door, stepping out into the cool evening air.

He follows behind you silently as you climb the narrow staircase to your apartment, the low hum of the bar fading with each step. You can feel his presence like a warm current, that quiet intensity that always seems to wrap around you when he’s near. The proximity makes you hyper-aware of every sound—the creak of the steps beneath your feet, the soft rustle of his jacket as he moves, his shaky breaths from his lungs working overtime due to his constant smoking.

When you finally reach the top and push the door open, you step aside to let him in. He takes a slow look around, his eyes sweeping over the small but cozy space. Despite its shabby appearance—the chipped paint on the walls, the secondhand furniture—it’s undeniably yours.

The throw blankets on the couch, the mismatched mugs on the kitchen counter, the books scattered about. It’s lived-in and comfortable, and you catch the way Javier’s lips twitch in what might be a smile as he takes it all in.

“Okay,” you say, arms crossing as you stand by the kitchenette, keeping a reasonable distance between you. “What now? We’re here. It’s just me and you. What do you have to say to me?”

He hesitates for a moment, running a hand through his hair like he’s bracing himself. Then, he just… spills his guts. “I want you to give me one chance. Just one date,” he says, the words tumbling out faster than you expect. “I know I’ve screwed up before, and I know I’ve been cocky, but… I like you. Like, really like you. More than I’ve let on.”

You blink quickly. You weren’t expecting this—certainly not Javier Peña, of all people, to stand in your apartment and confess to having a legitimate crush on you. “No way,” you mutter, in time with your thoughts, a nervous giggle escaping before you can stop it.

It sounds ridiculous in your head, and even more absurd out loud. He likes you? He doesn’t even know you!

His frown deepens, his jaw tightening as if your reaction stings. “I’m serious,” he’s insistent, his dark eyes locking with yours.

You shake your head, still struggling to process this. “You just got tired of screwing around with all the pretty stars, so now you’re going after someone different. Trying a new flavor of the month by chasing after a girl on the crew.”

“Technically, you’re not on the crew anymore—” he starts, but cuts himself off when he sees the daggers you’re sending him.

He steps a little closer, his tone quieter but more earnest. “You told me earlier that assuming has never gotten me anywhere worth being at. So take your own advice, nena, and stop assuming I’m chasing after you for all the wrong reasons.”

There’s no trace of his usual bravado, no cocky grin or smooth line to disarm you. Just sincerity. And it’s that, more than anything, that makes you pause. For real this time.

“So I’m not just someone to scratch off your list?” You ask, daring him to lie.  

“Wha— no.”

“You really mean it?”  

“Do I need to get on my knees to convince you I’m serious?”  

“That’d be the least serious thing you could do.”  

His mouth twitches up into a half smirk. “So? Will you let me take you out?”

This feels like if you so much as blink, the moment will dissolve—nothing but smoke and mirrors. 

“Okay,” you breathe. “But if it doesn’t work out… then that’s it. You don’t come around here again. You leave me alone. For good.”  

His eyes narrow, but he nods, accepting the ultimatum.  

“Fair enough.” His voice dips into something dark and velvety, a timbre that’s all too familiar. It’s the same voice you’ve heard behind the camera, in the tape that you got yourself off to—low, coaxing, a caress in itself. And damn him, it’s working on you again. “I promise, you won’t regret it.”  

“When?” You ask him.

“You’re the one who works weekends. You tell me.”

“Next Saturday?” You offer, trying to sound casual.

“It’s a date.”  

A flutter of nerves skitters through your chest and you almost laugh again, so giddy, but you clamp down on it.

“Alright... I’ll walk you out.” Your voice sounds awkward to your own ears, but your feet stay rooted to the spot. So does he.  

His gaze sharpens. “You know,” he starts, rubbing his jaw in that infuriatingly familiar way, “Robbie kept saying you ‘broke’ me after that Malibu shoot with Mariella.” He air quotes broke and your expression turns confused.

“Well… he’s an idiot.”  

“He’s not wrong, though,” Javi murmurs, stepping closer, the space between you vanishing.  

Your breath hitches. “Javi…” you warn, but it sounds weak—like a plea dressed as a protest.  

“You were right.” His voice dips again, softer now, but no less dangerous. “Sleeping with barely-legal girls felt... wrong. The whole scene was just fucked. It took me too long to realize it.” He leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “But that’s not what broke me.”  

Your pulse stutters. “Then what?”  

“You,” he whispers, moving closer, until the heat of his body presses against yours. “Your voice. Your eyes.” His gaze dips to your mouth, and your knees threaten to give out. “Those soft lips you won’t let me kiss absolutely fucking broke me.”

Your lower back presses hard against the counter, pinned by the sheer gravity of him closing in. His scent is dizzying.  

Your nipples harden, tightening with each shallow breath you take, the heat between you wrapping around your body like a fever. Now that you’ve stopped fighting it, the tide of lust pulls you under, dragging you into the undertow.

He can’t just say these things to you and expect you to remain sane. Especially not after all your wet dreams he’s been the star of.

“The others don’t do it for me anymore and I’m not popping a pill to get fuckin’ hard.” He cages you in, planting both hands on the counter at your sides. His arms flex, his body crowding yours, then he leans in, his nose brushing the tip of yours in the kind of touch that feels both too soft and too intimate.

“Just standing here with you…” His hips roll forward, pressing against you. The solid ridge of his cock rubs against your stomach through his jeans, and the friction sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core.

You gasp, lips parting as you go weak.

“Oh…” you breathe, shakily, your voice barely more than a whimper. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to keep some semblance of control, but his gaze locks onto the movement.

“I want to take care of you, nena. Por favor.” His voice drips with need, every word laced with intent. “Let me make you feel good again. I need to make you feel good.”

Memories flash like lightning—the way his mouth felt between your thighs and how it left such an impression that you quit your fucking job (okay maybe not because of that necessarily but it was a butterfly effect)

“Javi…” Your voice is a strained warning, as you press your hand to his shoulder, ready to push him back if you needed to throw some metaphorical ice on this heated moment to chill both of you the fuck out. “I’m not going to fuck you right now.”

“I’m not asking you to…” His hand comes up to take yours at his shoulder into his, bringing it up to his lips to give it a gentle kiss.

God, you just about come right then and there.

“You want to go down on me again?”

He groans, his mouth grazing your knuckles as if tasting you again. “I’ll always want that. Always.” His voice is strained. “But tonight, pretty girl, I just—fuck—I need to feel you.”

“But you just said—”

“I know baby,” he cradles your face and you let him, horny out of your mind and absolutely under his spell. “Just let me put the tip in.”

“What?” You ask, moving back from him to stare up into his eyes.

“The head of my cock. Let me put it in and feel how wet and warm you are.” 

Your thighs clench instinctively, the ache between them growing unbearable. Images of his cock flood your mind—thick, veined, and heavy, flashing like a montage you can’t shake.

The thought of him, so close, pressing inside just enough to tease, makes your breath catch in your throat.

“I-I’ve never done that before... isn’t that—” You shake your head, struggling to wrap your mind around the idea.

“It’ll feel so good, I promise. If you don’t like it I’ll pull out and leave.”

His eyes still hold that sincerity from before, and it tugs at your heart, which has moved its pulse downstairs at the thought of feeling just a little bit of him.

It’s intoxicating, giving you the power to decide just how much of him you’ll take. How deep he’ll bury himself. How much you’ll let him fuck into you. 

A moan slips from your lips, unbidden, and his eyes darken, his jaw tightening at the sound. He’s holding back, but barely—waiting, craving, needing your consent like it’s the only thing tethering him to reality.

“Fuck,” you whisper, already lost. “Whatever, just do it. Do it before I change my mind.”

You squeal as he spins you around, your hands coming up to steady yourself against the counter.

You went out and bought a mini denim skirt after seeing it on the pornstar he fucked in the tow truck scene because you thought it was cute, and now you’re sort of living out that fantasy here with him as he pushes it up high on your hips, exposing your very lackluster underwear.

“Damn…” His hands are all over you, kneading your ass, the rough squeeze of his palms making you whine, back arching instinctively for more. “These are hot as fuck.”

Your cheeks heat up, because no way he thinks your mauve colored hipsters are hot.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband and drags them down your legs, letting them pool at your ankles. You step out of them, still in your sneakers, feeling utterly exposed. But the way he looks at you makes you feel desired.

With a firm hand, he presses against the small of your back, coaxing you into a deeper arch. His hands glide down your thighs, strong fingers gripping where your knee bends, lifting your leg and placing it on the counter. The shift spreads you open for him, your slick, swollen folds glistening in the dim light.

“Fuck...” His voice is pure gravel, rough with need, as he drinks in the sight of you. And then he drops to his knees, right behind you, and buries his face between your legs.

“Oh my—fuck!” you cry, jerking forward against the counter, totally unprepared for the onslaught of his tongue.

He doesn’t hold back—doesn’t ease you into it—just dives in like a man possessed, his mouth working you over with fervor. The obscene sounds of his tongue dragging through your wetness and the desperate groans vibrating from his throat make your head spin. You’re shaking, trying to catch your breath, but it’s useless with the way he devours you.

He licks every inch of your pussy, his tongue flat and broad one second, sharp and focused the next, flicking across your clit with precision. When he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, the wet suction sends sparks shooting through your body.

Your forehead thuds against the cabinet in front of you as you babble out his name in breathless, broken curses, pleasure building in tight, pulsing waves. Your legs tremble under his relentless attention, and it feels like he’s not just eating you out—he’s worshiping you, savoring every moment like a man starved.

“Javi—oh my—fuck!” You can barely string two words together, the intensity of it dragging you closer and closer to the edge.

His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he buries his face deeper, groaning like he can’t get enough of you. And god dammit, you love it. You love the way he’s lost in you, the way his tongue moves like he knows exactly how to pull you apart. It’s filthy, messy, perfect.

He pulls back after a few minutes, reluctantly breaking away from the warmth of you, even though every fiber in his body begs him to stay—tongue, nose, and fingers lost in your sweetness for hours, watching you unravel again and again. He forces himself to move, savoring the way your breath stutters in frustration at the loss.  

The soft metallic clink of his belt buckle being undone makes your heart race, and your pussy clenches reflexively, aching to be filled.  

“Mmm, she’s ready for me, isn’t she?” He’s so smug, watching the way your cunt flutters at the mere thought of his cock sliding inside you. Even just the tip.  

You don’t answer—you can’t answer. The anticipation has stolen every word, every coherent thought from your brain. All you hear is the pounding rush of blood in your ears.

Javier steps in closer, the heat of his body pressing against your back. His hand snakes around you, rough fingers brushing your chin before hovering just beneath your lips.  

“Spit,” he commands, his tone low and firm.  

Like the desperate thing you are, you part your lips without hesitation, letting a hot thread of saliva drip into his waiting palm.  

A deep, approving grunt rumbles from his chest. “Good girl.”  

Your cheeks burn at the praise, and you clench again as he takes your offering, wrapping his wet palm around the thick length of his cock. He strokes himself slowly, hissing through his teeth, the slick sound of his fist dragging over his shaft making your breath hitch.  

Then, without warning, you feel the velvety head of his cock glide through the slick folds of your cunt.  

Both of you shudder—your soft whimper mingling with his guttural groan.  

He drags the swollen tip along your slit, gathering your arousal, and when he nudges it against your throbbing clit, your hips jerk instinctively.  

“Relax, bella,” he warns, his hand tightening on your waist to steady you. “Unless you want me to bust my load all over this pretty clit right now.”  

That filthy mouth of his makes you want to slap him—and kiss him—until you both can’t breathe.  

He keeps teasing you both, swirling the sensitive head over your clit again, tapping it lightly against the swollen bundle of nerves. Your thighs tremble with need, and your pussy clenches again, desperate to take him inside.  

“Fuck,” he groans, his voice gravelly with restraint as he lines himself up with your entrance. “So fucking wet…”  

He tilts his hips just enough to press the head of his cock against your dripping hole, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching toward him.  

“¿Lista?” he whispers, his voice softer now, more intimate. He leans in, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck, trailing gentle kisses over your skin between ragged breaths.  

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to form words.  

Then, slowly—achingly slow—he pushes the tip inside.  

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of your ear.  

A sharp, breathless moan escapes you as he stretches you open, your cunt greedily sucking him in. The sensation is electric, overwhelming—just enough to tease, just enough to leave you craving more.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. Why the fuck does this feel so good?

Javier groans, forehead pressed to your shoulder, his cock twitching inside you as he fights to keep from plunging deeper. “Puta madre nenita, this pussy esta tan rica.” 

He stills, savoring the way your tight heat wraps around just the tip of him. His blunt fingernails dig into the skin of your hips as he struggles to keep his hips from moving.

But you can’t help it. Your hips move on their own, rolling back just enough to take more of him inside, the smooth slide of his length sending sparks through your body. A whimper slips from your lips as your walls clench around what little of him you have, the stretch so good it has your eyes fluttering shut, your head tipping forward.

“Don’t. Fucking. Move,” he growls, low and dangerous, and the sound of it shoots straight to your cunt.

You whine softly, biting your lip, as he drags the inches you stole back out, leaving just the swollen head nestled at your entrance. The tease is unbearable, like dangling water in front of someone dying of thirst.

“Javi, I can’t help it,” you moan, the frustration bubbling over into a pout. Your hand drifts down between your thighs, fingers brushing your slick, needy clit. You need something—anything—to relieve the pressure.

His hand is lightning fast, grabbing your wrist and yanking it back to the counter. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He sounds almost offended.

“I need to feel something,” you whimper, shifting your hips desperately against him.

He clicks his tongue, as if scolding you, his lips brushing your ear. “You’re already feeling the head of this cock, aren’t you? And you’re still being greedy, trying to touch this pretty little pussy after I told you I’d take care of you.”

His hand slides from your waist, gliding lower, fingers hovering just above where you need him most. The promise of his touch makes your thighs quiver, and you let out a desperate little whine, arching your back in a silent plea.

“Tell me what you want,” he demands, his voice low and rough, thick with control barely held in check.

You know exactly what he looks like—jaw tight, eyes burning with hunger, teeth gritted as he holds back from sinking all the way into you. And it makes you ache even more.

“Touch me, Javi, please,” you beg, your voice a breathy, needy little mewl. You throw your head back against his shoulder, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes, batting your lashes shamelessly.

A low, satisfied hum vibrates from his chest, and his fingers finally press against your slick, swollen folds. He groans softly as he feels how you’re stretching around the head of his cock, his fingertips tracing the puffy lips before circling lazily over your throbbing clit.

“Ohhh, just like that,” you moan, the sound slipping from you naturally, raw and unfiltered—nothing like the exaggerated performances he’s used to. This is real, and it only makes him harder.

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck, “I can’t wait to ruin this pussy, nenita. Gonna make you feel better than any malparido before me.”

His fingers keep working your clit, slow and steady, each stroke dragging you closer to madness. Your hips start to grind against his hand and the blunt head of his cock, desperate for more, for everything.

And the way he’s talking—like you’re his to wreck, his to please—makes you feel like you’ll lose your mind.

You suck in a sharp breath, feeling the jealousy dancing on his fingertips as he works your clit faster, his movements switching between precision and wild hunger.

He rolls the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger, pinching it just hard enough to make you gasp. Then, his touch softens—soothing circles, spreading your slick everywhere—before he tugs at your swollen nub, sending shocks of pleasure deep into your core, like fireworks are exploding down there.

“Tell me,” he growls, voice rough with possessiveness. “Did he fuck you good?”

The blunt tip of his cock stays snug at your entrance, and every pinch, every flick of his fingers makes your walls clench greedily around it, desperate for more.

“W-Who?” you whimper, genuinely lost in the haze of his touch. Your mind has melted, everything but the sensations he’s feeding you slipping away like vapor.

That answer pleases him—makes something wicked curl in his chest. His grin presses against your neck, and the wet heat of his tongue drags a slow, deliberate stripe along your skin. Then, he bites down, sucking hard, marking you in that one spot you’ve only ever dreamt of him nipping at.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, voice dripping with satisfaction.

Your hand finds his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands, tugging hard enough to make him groan against your neck. The heat swirling in your belly tightens to a near-breaking point, your orgasm creeping up on you with every flick of his relentless fingers.

“Javi—fuck—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, voice breaking, sounding needy and pitiful.

“I know, baby,” he rasps. “I can feel her gettin’ all tight and messy for me. C’mon, nena, let it happen. I’ve got you.”

He keeps his pace steady—no sudden changes, no wild moves—just the same focused rhythm he’s built up, making your nerves sing, each flick and stroke a perfectly calibrated promise of release.

Your body responds like it always does for him: beautifully. His name falls from your lips like a sweet song. Your hips grind instinctively, chasing the steady friction of his slick fingers.

“More, Javi—oh, please—more,” you gasp, knowing exactly what you need, what only he can give you. You’re ready for him to shove deep inside, to fill you, stretch you, ruin you with the thick cock still teasing your entrance.

If you had said this maybe five minutes ago, he would have obliged, but he’s got a point to prove now. And that point is restraint—his self control.

“Not tonight, pretty girl,” he murmurs darkly, laden with lust and dominance. “You’re gonna come just like this.”

Then, without warning, his hand shifts, and he slaps your pussy—once, twice, three times. The sound is wet and obscene, and the sharp sting sends a shockwave straight to your core.

That’s what breaks you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a violent, unstoppable wave, ripping through your body with terrifying force.

“Fuck—Javi!” you scream, your walls fluttering and pulsing wildly around the head of his cock, soaking his hand in your release as your legs threaten to give out beneath you.

He groans, watching you unravel for him, every twitch and spasm feeding his ego. His fingers don’t stop—stroking you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body.

Your vision swims, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the euphoria leaves you floating, weightless. And even though he hasn’t buried himself inside you like you wanted, somehow, this feels even more intimate—like he’s branded himself into you without needing to fuck you at all.

The way your pussy grips him sends a shudder down his spine, and with a strangled curse, his balls tighten, his climax hot on the heels of yours. 

“Fuck—” he groans, yanking his cock out just in time, the thick spurts of his cum painting your slick, swollen pussy, making a filthy mess.

Both of you pant, trying to catch your breath, the room heavy with the scent of sex. A sharp hiss escapes your lips as his fingers slide lazily through your soaked folds, mixing the remnants of both your pleasure. When he gathers the sticky blend on his fingers and brings them to your mouth, the hunger in his gaze makes your heart race.  

“Have a taste, baby.”

Without hesitation, you part your lips, taking his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them with obscene enthusiasm. You moan at the heady, salty taste—like liquid sin on your tongue. It’s addictive, and you suck greedily until his fingers are spotless, releasing them with a wet pop that makes his eyes darken further.  

You glance up at him over your shoulder, lips slightly swollen from your efforts. 

“You okay?” he asks, his tone soft.

You nod, still dazed, your pulse thrumming beneath your skin. “Better than okay. That was... wow.”  

His soft grin blooms into a cocky smirk, and he helps clean you up before gently moving your leg off the counter. As he tucks himself back into his jeans, you adjust your skirt, smoothing it down with shaky hands.  

“Where are my panties?” you ask, glancing around, still floating in the afterglow.  

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling them out with a sly grin. “Oh, these?”  

You reach for them, but he swiftly lifts them out of reach.  

“I think I’ll hold onto them.”  

Heat rises to your cheeks as you narrow your eyes at him, but the lazy, satisfied smile on your lips betrays your mock indignation. “Why? Perv.”  

His grin widens, unabashed. “A little memento… to remind me of this. I’ll give them back next Saturday.” He slips them back into his pocket.

You roll your eyes, too blissed out to care. “I can’t believe we just did that.”  

He steps closer, wrapping his arms around you, the warmth of his embrace catching you off guard. After all the resistance you’ve given him, letting him hold you like this feels foreign.

“Told you it’d feel good,” he murmurs smugly, his lips brushing your temple. “Didn’t think you’d be the one to cave first and beg for the whole thing, though.”  

You scoff, giving his hip a playful pinch. “I got caught up in the heat of the moment, okay? You might’ve scored a date and... a semi-fuck, but I’m still sticking to those boundaries. For now.”  

“Does that mean I still can’t kiss you?”  

Oh, hell. He’s already been inside you—well, kind of. What’s one little kiss? But no. You’re trying to make a point here.  

“Nope,” you reply, stopping him with a finger pressed lightly against his lips just as he leans in. “Not until you buy me dinner first.”  

His smirk deepens, and instead of protesting, he kisses the tip of your finger. 

“Deal.”

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories

@greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl .

🏷️ : @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch

@xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @yxtkiwiyxt . @guelyury . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @thundermartini . @correapunk .

[loppsided]

d. lizewski as your boyfriend

summary: dating dave lizewski headcanons!

pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader

wc: 407

warnings: smut at the end

a/n: omg!! thank you guys so much for 100 followers that so cool. but also tell me why my friend read my last fic chy im so embarrassed, if ur reading this hai heh. heres a little drabble with some smutty stuff as a filler until i can make a real fic again. likes and reblogs appreciated!

clingy as hell! this goes hand and hand with him being a jealous bf, hes always holding some part of you, because he wants people to know your his and also because he loves touching you

hes a jealous boyf cuz hes a little insecure, not growing up with a lot of female attention then bagging a beautiful girl like you can make him doubt himself

but you always reassure him, telling him hes the best thing to happen to you and he returns those feelings

you cleaning him up after he gets off patrol and him being completely covered in bruises and marks

scolding him on how dangerous being kick ass is and if he isn't gonna be more careful, you want him to stop

it taking him forever to admit to you he was kickass cause he didn't want you to judge him

comic book dates where you buy dinner and a new comic book and he tells you every detail about it

random rants while watching his favorite shows or movies on what's accurate and what's not

him sneaking into your window late at night to cuddle

him bragging to his friends about how perfect you are and how your the best girl in town

make out sessions after school in alleys behind dumpsters

movie nights at his place, you two are curled up on his bed with a bowl of popcorn but by the end of the movie, the popcorn's on the floor, and your both making out

definitely a hand holder like he'll hold your hand wherever, he doesn't care who see's

loves pda cause he likes when you show him off

threatens to beat up anyone who messes with you, but you decline with a giggle

nsfw below the cut

loves make out sessions, could literally eat your face for hours

definitely whimpers lmfao hes such a crybaby when hes about to cum

you guys took each others v cards, so even though your first time was super sloppy and you didnt exactly finish, it was still so amazing and romantic

def a tits guy, will just stare at them for as long as possible

hes one of those gross tongue kissers that doesn't really ease into the kiss, he just shoves his tongue down your throat *you dont really mind that tho*

him fucking you in his suit, it turns him on so bad, him being fully clothed while ur bare in front of him

DEFINITELY A MUNCH literally will eat you out for hours asking "is this good?"

[moonlightspencie]

the way i dropped everything to read this. let’s fucking GOOOOOO. need him severely

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: When Dave is hired by your dad to clean your pool during the summer, something you'd known for a long time becomes even more obvious

Genre: Fluff with a smidge of suggestive content 😏

Warnings: flirty!reader, submissive undertones!dave, shy!dave, dave and reader are eighteen, swearing, making out.

~ here you go my lovely @moonlightspencie 🫶💕~

You and Dave Lizewski aren't by any means close during the school year. You both live in completely different circles. You have your more popular friends and Dave has his small group of nerds. In all honesty, the only time you interact with him is when you occasionally take out the trash at the same time and see him from across the road.

He'll wave nervously and you'll smile to yourself. 

He really is cute. 

However, you weren't expecting to hear his voice as you're sunbathing by your pool on a sunny July afternoon.

You sit up instantly and push your sunglasses up on your head as you hear the small, "Yes, sir," Dave mutters as he holds the pool stick in one hand and listens to your dad explain how to clean the pool. 

"Ah, Y/n, this is David—Mr. Lizewski's son—he lives next door," your dad calls when he sees you, "He's cleaning our pool for a quick buck." 

He then turns to Dave and gestures to you, "This is my daughter, Y/n."

You smile and tilt your head as some water from your damp hair hits your shoulders. "I know, Dad. He knows. We're both seniors now," you say and sip from your lemonade, eyeing Dave. "Hi, Dave," you say with a smile and the poor boy's cheeks turn crimson. 

Thank God you wore your sexy bikini. 

Your dad looks between you both, his hands on his hips, but he doesn't comment. "Alright, well, good meeting you Dave. I'll be inside if you have any questions," he says and once he's gone, Dave looks like a deer in headlights.

He's still standing by the pool, wearing embarrassingly colorful shorts and a white T-shirt. His brown curly hair is only a little longer than you remembered from a few months ago and he looks slightly fitter.

"You gonna stare at me the entire time or work, Lizewski?" you laugh and turn onto your stomach, pushing down your sunglasses again and resisting your head on your arms. You smile to yourself when you hear Dave's mumblings and shufflings as he works. 

Around fifteen minutes later, you shift onto your back again and see that Dave looks already sweaty from the excessive heat. Shit, he looks good.

"How long until I can take a dip," you cross your legs and ask, smiling at him as he jumps in surprise at the sound of your voice.

"O-oh, um," he avoids your gaze as he looks down at the pool, "I haven't added the chlorine and s-stuff y-yet, but after that probably I think- like thirty minutes?" 

You sit up and frown. "I'll just take a dip now, then, I don't wanna wait that long," you say and stand, running a hand in your hair as you walk to the stairs.

Dave watches you and he can't help but admit he's staring at your curves in your bikini. He resists the urge to adjust his shorts. 

"Y-yeah, s-sure," he stutters, unsure what to do now. 

You find him adorable so you smile at him as you walk into the pool. "Come, join me," you say, "It's boiling outside. My dad won't mind, promise," you say and guide some water onto your arms. 

Dave looks nervous now, his blue eyes round and unsure. "I- I don't want to bother you."

You smile at him and duck under the water, coming up and pushing hair from your forehead. "Nonsense, Lizewski. I'm inviting you in. Now, c'mon," you chuckle and swim around the pool.

Dave hesitates but he finally shrugs off his shirt and awkwardly covers himself until the pool water reaches his waist. He can feel you staring at his arms and chest and he blushes harder.

You swim to him. "Why're you so shy?" you ask curiously. "Usually guys that look like you are arrogant assholes."

"Guys that look like me?" Dave questions, walking further into the pool to meet you in the middle. He lifts his arms as he winces from the coolness of the water. 

You laugh and swim even closer until you're standing face-to-face in the water. Dave still looks blushed and you smirk. "Yeah. Guys that are handsome and cute and—" your gaze flickers to his abs, "hot—like you."

Dave looks like he could explode any second by how flushed he is and he rubs his nape. "Y-you think I'm all those things?"

You laugh, "Don't you own a mirror, Lizewski?"

He clearly doesn't know how to answer that so he goes with a compliment instead. "You're hot too, and cute–and b-beautiful," he mumbles shyly, "and your personality is totally banger–" he tries and you can tell he means it he's just nervous. 

You walk closer to him and hover your hand over his cheek before you push some of his curls behind his ear with your wet hand. "Dave, have you ever kissed a girl?" you ask, already knowing the answer. 

His breath hitches. "N-no–" 

"Is it okay if I kiss you?" You look into his blue eyes and then at his pink lips. 

Dave stutters, "B-but your parents—"

"Aren't paying attention to us. Promise," you smile and cup his cheek fully in your hand. You pull him in, pressing your lips to his gently. He's stiff in the beginning, his hands awkwardly finding your shoulders.

"Relax," you tease and bump your nose against his. 

Dave relaxes and he lets out a small gasp as you push his back to the cool tile of the pool, your mouth exploring his hungrily. He's not a bad kisser for someone who'd never done it and when you wrap one leg around his hip, his hand dips under the water to hold your thigh. You groan into his lips and continue to kiss him as the water splashes around you.

The sun is warm on your skin and Dave can taste the lemonade from your lips. It's intoxicating and he wants more. He pulls away, breathless as he looks down at your body glistening from water and his dick fully hardens at how sexy you look in your bikini. His eyes are glued to your tits. 

"Here," you laugh, feeling him becoming all hot and bothered so you guide one of his hands to your tit and continue to kiss him as he feels you up. You run one of your hands up and down his abs under the water. "Good boy," you praise between kisses and you feel like you're also on fire. 

No experienced boy has ever made you feel this good. How is that even possible?

You make out for another few minutes and then as you pull away, Dave's lips are red and moist. His eyes are blown wide and he's panting. He looks breathtakingly beautiful. 

You smirk and kiss his cheek, pushing away from him. "Times up," you tease and walk out of the pool, feeling his eyes linger on your figure as you wrap a towel around yourself. You turn to him, your tone light, "You should get back to work—Dad doesn't like slackers," you taunt him and grab your magazine. 

You hear Dave scrambling to exit the pool and you toss him an extra towel. 

"Might have to fix that big problem of yours first," you giggle, smirking.

Dave immediately presses the bunched-up towel against his boner as he makes an embarrassed squeal. Your heart leaps at the sound and you look over your shoulder, waving at him as you walk away. 

"I'll see you around, baby," you say with a wink and he is left a blushing mess behind you. 

[astermath]

"So? Whatever." Pt.2

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: after closing a deal with dave to let you borrow his comics while he pretends to tutor you, he finally comes over to your house. he’s confronted with the fact that despite your reputation of being damn near perfect, you have your own insecurities and issues. you’re confronted with how much you enjoy his company, despite having your reservations about him before.

word count: 2.4K

♡ LANDING PAGE ♡

notes: thank you for the likes and the reblogs, I really appreciate it! I really enjoy writing for this reader, there’s something so fun about being able to be so playfully mean. Please let me know if you’d like a part 3, and comments are greatly appreciated too!

[unknown]: hi, it’s dave! hope I typed in the right number lol

You look at your phone as it buzzed, squinting to see if you recognized the contact as you dried your hair off from the shower. You sat down on your bed and swiped up, smiling at the name. At least he didn’t forget to text. You saved his number under a new contact and started typing a reply.

[y/n]: sorry, I know a lot of daves. are you the one from the party last saturday, or the one from the football game?

[dave]: lizewski? the one who lent you the venom comic? brown hair, glasses?

You grinned to yourself, laying down on your stomach on the bed.

[y/n]: I’m just messing with ya, nerd. I remember you, how could I possibly forget?

[dave]: right

[dave]: sorry

[dave]: could you send me the address? and what type of comics you want me to bring?

You sent him your location and a couple of screenshots of your favorite franchises.

[y/n]: think you can work with that?

[dave]: yeah, totally! I’ll be there at 2 on saturday, is that ok?

[y/n]: totes, see ya then x

Dave stared down at his phone, eyes fixated on the little “x” you added to your last text. Everything from that day had already felt surreal, and now he was actually texting you. Or, well, he assumed so. This could all very well still be part of some really shitty prank, but you did seem genuine in your request. And what kind of guy would he be to just assume you were out to get him, just like all the others?

A smart one, probably.

But it was too late for second thoughts now, as he stood in front of the driveway to your house. It was huge, nothing like the houses in his neighborhood. He guessed that’s what all that lawyer money was good for. He walked up to the front door, his hand shaking a little as he reached out to ring the bell. He heard footsteps, taking a deep breath in and mentally prepared himself to be met by you as the door opened.

Instead, he was met by the eyes of an older man, slightly taller than him, who seemed less than pleased to see him at his front door. He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he looked him up and down. “Can I help you, son?”

Dave gulped, hands getting clammy inside his coat’s pockets. He was not ready to be confronted by your dad, especially because he’s the one you were primarily hiding things from. “I-I’m here to tutor—”

“My daughter?” He cut him off before he could say your name. “You the kid that’s tutoring her?”

“Y-Yes sir, that’s me.” He pulled out his hand, silently cursing himself for not wiping it on his pants before because of how sweaty it was.

Your father looked down at his hand, but before he could even shake it, your voice was heard from behind him. “Daddy, that’s for me!” You walked down the stairs, making eye contact with Dave as he tried not to melt right then and there because of what you were wearing. He usually saw you wear your cute, well put together outfits at school, but seeing you in your cute comfy shorts, with your hair put up… He only realized he was staring when your dad addressed him again.

“Alright, get inside. And shoes off.”

He obliged, quickly taking his shoes off as your dad walked back into the living room.

Not long after, he was met with the sight of your room. Shelves adorned with trophies, a vanity, a queen sized bed with a TV in front of it, a plush sofa, and a huge closet… He was pretty sure he’s seen whole apartments less nice than your room. But nevermind that, he was in a girl’s room, in your room. That was intimate no matter the scenario.

You sat down on your desk chair, legs crossed as you turned it on its wheels to face the boy scanning your room. He looked like he had landed in another dimension, eyes wide as he examined his surroundings.

“What’s so interesting?” You asked, not sure if he was looking for something or if he was just genuinely this impressed by your room.

“You have… A lot of trophies…” He fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.

You looked over to the shelf, smiling proudly. “All from cheering.” You pointed to the tiara on the shelf above it. “Besides that one.”

He remembers when you won prom queen in your junior year, though he’s not sure if he’d count that as a trophy. He’d never tell you that, though.

“So, you gonna give me my comics or are you just here to inspect my private property?”

Your comment snapped him out of his daydreaming and he quickly took off his backpack to take out a plastic bag filled with comics. “I-I didn’t know which ones you wanted specifically, so… I just took all the ones from the franchises you showed me.” He took the pile out of the bag and you got up to take them from him.

“Careful, it’s—“

Your arms almost gave out to the sheer heft of the pile before he caught them. “Jesus christ Dave!”

“S-Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realise they weighed that much combined!” He looks panicked, hoping you didn’t hurt yourself when the weight pulled you down.

“You carried these all the way here?” You looked at him in shock. There was no way he was that strong, not without you knowing about it. “What are you, some kind of secret body builder?” You watched him put the pile down on your desk, seeing the muscles in his forearm. Maybe you were wrong, you just hadn’t been paying as much attention to Dave as you apparently should have been.

He avoided the question, simply sitting down on the carpeted floor across you with his back against the side of your bed. Frankly, he knew he’d be better off saying nothing when it came to his physique, afraid it might reveal too much relating to his vigilante activities.

You looked through the pile, finding the sequel to the previous comic you had borrowed from him and pulling it out. Dave took his own comic book out of his backpack, and when he looked back at you, something had clearly changed.

Your face was now adorned with a pair of round, thinly rimmed glasses.

He blinked a few times to make sure his own eyes weren’t deceiving him, but no, he was seeing things right.

You look up from your page and raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“You wear glasses.” He said, eyes fixated on your face. His usual aversion to eye contact seemed to have vanished all of a sudden.

“What?” You realized you hadn’t thought about it when you put them on. You didn’t usually have company over while you were reading stuff. “Oh.” Your face suddenly felt a lot warmer, embarrassment washing over you. “Yeah, I uh… I need them to read, at least. I get through the rest of my day without em just fine, they just look so… Stupid.” You paused, looking back at his face and realizing how mean that must have sounded to him. “Not that you look stupid! You look, uh… You look smart! Real smart, it’s just… They don’t suit me and I…His expression hasn’t changed one bit since you had put on your spectacles. You looked so different, in a good way. A really good way.

“Pretty.” He muttered.

“What?” You broke out of your embarrassed rambling.

“I think you look pretty. With the glasses. They suit you.” He smiled demurely, hoping that didn’t gain him some creep points.

You stared back at him. You’d been called hot before, sexy, gorgeous… But hearing him call you pretty, it was something else. There were no intentions behind it, he just needed to say it, like it felt right. You blink, trying to cope with the fact that the nerd you thought you had an upper hand on had turned your brain to mush with a single compliment.

“Yeah, uhm… Whatever…” You went back to reading. “…thanks.”

He smiled to himself as he picked up his own comic book again. You were surprisingly fun to talk to, it was almost as if he didn’t feel like he was getting judged for everything he was saying anymore.

And he could definitely get used to that.

A few hours pass as you both peruse through the pile. The silence is comfortable, only being broken if someone flipped a page or grabbed a new comic. He looked up and saw you holding the Spider-man collector’s edition he took a page out of, seemingly very immersed in the story.

“Do you like Spider-man?” He spoke up, hoping he didn’t annoy you by taking you out of the story.

“Oh, uh…” You adjusted the glasses on your face as they kept slipping down your nose a bit. “Yeah. He’s like… pretty cool I guess.” You had so much to say about him, so much you wanted to gush about, but you couldn’t help but still feel a little ashamed about your interest.

Dave looked at you expectantly. He knew that look, the same look he had whenever someone would call him any type of name at school for being a top shelf dork.

And in that moment, you realised you both had something in common. Except he lived his life unashamedly being a dork, and you were concealing it.

“Alright, so,” You got up from your chair and sat down on the floor next to him, your shoulders touching as you held the comic to your chest. The excitement nearly poured out of you as you couldn’t contain your words, going over everything you liked about him. His background, his personality, his originally handmade suit, his unique powers…

Dave watched you speak with a dreamy smile on his face, your face glowing with happiness. He never thought you’d looked more beautiful, just unapologetically being yourself in front of him. He didn’t once try to interrupt you, he wouldn’t dare to, you just looked so cute gushing about this comic book hero.

“And the fact that… He’s just some kid, right?” You looked into his eyes as he nodded along with you. “Like, he never got any special training, or fancy gear, or anything like that. He could have lived every day of his life pretending he never got bitten by that spider, and live happily ever after, but no! He took matters into his own hands, because he wanted to make a change, because he cared about the people around him.” You smiled, not realizing you had grabbed Dave’s arm and were squeezing it a little to emphasize your words.

He blushed, feeling like that description fit his own endeavors pretty well. He looked into your eyes and for a second, felt the urge to lean in. It took about as much strength as it did to carry those comics to not do so.

You let go of his arms and held your legs close your chest. “But that upside down kiss with MJ… That’s gotta be bullshit. There’s no way you can kiss someone like that.”

“I don‘t know,” Dave responded. “I feel like it would be kinda fun. It doesn’t look that hard.”

“Oh yeah? How would you know?” You turned your head to look at him and gave him a cocky grin.

His face flushed pink and he regretted saying what he said. He just gave you the perfect bait to tease the ever living hell out of him. “W-Well, I… I can imagine that… From my experience… It’s…” He stammered.

You let out a soft giggle, amused at his embarrassment. “You’ve never kissed a girl, have you?”

Dave gulped, words stuck in his throat. But you had opened up so much to him, it wouldn’t be fair to not do the same. “I, uhm… No. I haven’t.” He let out a bit of a defeated chuckle.

An idea sprung alive in your head, a dangerous but intriguing glint in your eyes as you bit your lower lip slightly.

“Would you want to?”

Dave had heard you say a lot of shocking things, but that might just take the cake. His cheeks burned hot as the blood rushed to his face, his hands staying steady on his own thighs to not show they were trembling a little. He didn’t know what to say, this was all happening so quickly.

Before he could respond, you were leaning in, eyes on his soft lips, only inches apart—

“Sweetie! Come down for dinner!”

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled back, looking at Dave before glancing over at the door. Thank god they didn’t come up to knock, that would have been the death of you. You take a deep breath and get up, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same. “You should uh… Probably head out.”

He sat there a bit longer than he should have, a million thoughts going through his head before the sound of your voice finally got through to him. “Right, sorry… Don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” He gathered his comics and went downstairs with you to put on his shoes and coat again.

You opened the door for him and he looked back at you to say goodbye. “Thanks for having me over, I had a good time. I hope you did too.” He smiled shyly, hands in his pockets.

You smiled back, reaching up to ruffle his brown curls. “Don’t mention it. And don’t die on the way back, shit’s dangerous out there these days.”

He nodded, giving you a quick wave before heading out, the feeling in his chest warming up his entire body. He felt like he could take on anything, a feeling that would absolutely come in handy later when he’d be face to face with New York’s criminals.

You went back upstairs and sat down at your desk, noticing he’d left something. It was the special collector’s edition you’d been gushing about earlier. You ran your fingers across the damaged front page, smiling to yourself.

Dave was looking in the mirror, adjusting his costume a little and checking if he had everything he needed with him. A buzz of his phone got his attention, and a giddy boyish grin spread across his face.

[y/n]: so, same time next week? xx

@nephilimsss

(lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for this fic and other dave lizewski works!!)

[meiiie]

dave lizewski, i’m so into you. (pt. 2)

summary: you say something unexpected about Kick-Ass while discussing with your friends which hero you prefer the most.. Kick-Ass? Or Red Mist? little did Dave know or so you thought, you knew it was him all along..

a/n: i have an OC named Melilah who will be your best friend in this imagine, this only has fluff and comedy, there are some inappropriate jokes, and thats it i think! i also didn't proofread this so like... yeah happy reading :)

(pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader) link to pt. 1

word count: 1.6k

now playing: boyfriend (with Social House)

♫ 'Cause I know we be so complicated But we be so smitten, it's crazy I can't have what I want, but neither can you ♫

the lyrics echoing throughout the store,

“well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say out of your thoughts completely regretting saying the said statement- “Really?” Dave says out of nowhere, observing the conversation from behind your booth.

♫ But you ain't my boyfriend (Boyfriend) And I ain't your girlfriend (Girlfriend) But you don't want me to touch nobody else (Nobody) Baby, we ain't gotta tell nobody ♫

“okay wrap it up you two.” Todd interrupts

you really didn't know what to do at that point, i mean- what else would you do?

Dave takes a seat beside you—you think to yourself, 'ah, so this is what Todd and Marty were planning…' ...not knowing your best friend was in on it too

Melilah was rambling something about Red Mist to Todd and Marty, you couldn't care less since it wasn't about Kick-Ass “what you said, did you mean it?” Dave asking you, you almost break your neck by looking at him “wait- what yes what no, huh?”

Dave tilts his head looking confused at your reply, chuckling a bit “well, maybe, i guess? i mean, who wouldn't want to…?” you say nervously, your palms and toes are practically sweating at his question

“so, uh is that why you've been avoiding me these past few days? because you find Kick-Ass more attractive than me?” smirking in attempt to tease you, but you didn't take the hint, and instead you fumble on your words by saying “no- you are very attractiv- i mean, Kick-Ass is very attractive, well- not really? i keep my options open” you sigh trying to catch your breath, but Dave doesn't look the slightest upset. instead he was just looking at you in amusement, recalling the previous days.

4 days earlier

“how come nobody has ever tried to be a superhero?” Dave asks Todd and Marty sitting at the same booth spot, “boy.. i dunno! probably because it's fucking impossible, dipshit!” Marty says while Todd just laughs “what? putting a mask and helping people, how's that impossible?” Dave says trying to defend his question

“that's not superhero, though. how's that super? super's like being stronger than everybody and flying and shit. that's just hero” Todd explains

“no, it's not even hero. it's just fucking psycho.”

Dave Lizewski knew at that moment that his goal was to become the first real life superhero. as soon as Dave opened his parcel for his Kick-Ass 'superhero suit', he goes to find his first mission as a superhero, which was to fight bad guys right? haaah.... that actually didn't turn out so well- *PUNCH*

“AHHHHH” Dave screams after making 4 guys faint that were trying to beat up a guy in front of the convenience store, “what the fuck just happened.” he says assessing the situation he was just in. he looks around his surroundings and realize the amount of people recording the fight “holy shit, I DID IT!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, he just felt so unstoppab- “AHHHHHHHH” Dave screams, again but IN TERROR. he was just about to fall off a ledge, barely hanging on. who knew saving a cat would be this hard? "FUCK YOU MR. BITEY!" *THUD*

Dave hits the ground, HARD. “aggghh.. FUCK.” he checks whether his back was okay-then if his phone was fine or not. looking at his screen & it was ALMOST 7PM. “shit, it's almost past my curfew! i cannot STAND pretending to be like i'm some sort of superhero anymore.” he stomps on the ground walking fast into a dark alleyway, he notices there was someone standing beside the lamp pole but who cares. all he could think of was giving up, what kind of superhero would be able to beat up 4 guys but can't even save a CAT? he removes his mask out of frustration, partially still angry at Mr. Bitey, but then a faint gasp is heard—his eyes darting towards the pole. it was you. sounds of quick footsteps tip-tap-tip-tap quickly fading away. "WAIT!-" Dave shouts, “i- oh god..”

it was the next day in school, he already saw how the videos from the convenience store was spreading in the news, but most importantly was what did you think? "hey y/n-" you quickly pass by him in the halls, his heart stung at the sight of you trying to ignore him. during classes, he would be staring at you- like, FULL BLOWN staring at you with such sadness in his eyes. what he felt for you was different, he didn't know what it was. before you both became friends, he would always notice the little details about you during class.

you were always fidgeting with your pencil, or doodling on your notebook, the way you squint your eyes at the white board when you couldn't see what the teacher wrote, he found you so endearing. after being paired up to work on a major project for one of your classes, it was like he won the entire universe. so now seeing you ignore him made it feel like his life just crumbled apart

"are you sure this is going to work? i don't think y/n is going to fall for this, you always come to the hangouts its going to be obvious that we're lying…"

"dude, you should just talk to her and ask her whats up? what'd you even do to make her avoid you man??"

"stop it- it's, privat-"

"oh my god. they probably kissed and she ran away because Dave was a shitty kisser ohhhhh GOD. i can envision it! why did you have to do that????"

"first of all, we did not kiss. AND I AM A GOOD KISSER! i just need Melilah to convince y/n to hang out with you guys in Comic Atomics but tell her that i'm not coming, then i'll hide behind the booth then just ask her what she thinks about Kick-Ass-"

"why does it have to be specifically Kick-Ass though..?" the three of them look at Dave expecting an answer, Dave really wanted to know what you thought about him- well, about his alter ego, Kick-Ass, but you couldn't just tell your friends that was the reason

"guys... just do this... for me... as a friend.. I swear i'll pay you guys back- ANYTHING."

"anything?"

"anything."

Dave slowly watches the conversation unfold in front of him, “guys what do you think of Kickass?” Melilah asks subtly looking at Dave behind you to wonder if she's following the plan right. Todd and Marty then expressed who they liked more, which was Red Mist which lowkey made Dave sad but once he heard your reply his eyes saw stars, the whole world, the universe, his whole life was lifted- “well- for one i think Kickass is wayy cuter, i’d fuck his brains out if i got the chance.” you say, your words were ECHOING IN HIS BRAIN.... 'she... thinks... i'm cute...wait...SHE'DFUCKME?'

"Really?" he says, trying to keep his cool when in reality he was screaming internally.

during the whole hangout you could feel Dave's stares at you, grinning like he was the luckiest man alive yet you both weren't even together "jeez man stop glaring at her, you're going to make her run away again!" Melilah pointed out keeping the rest of the time there light, and your worries were all gone.

it was almost 5pm when you all said your goodbyes, "can I walk you home?" Dave asked, hoping for you to say yes "yeah, i'd like that." the walk home was silent but the silence was, comforting. "you know about it, don't you?" you pretend to look confused at his question "oh don't pretend now.." he said, you both started giggling

"well what do i know Mr. Lizewski?"

"maybe the fact that you saw me falling from a height in attempt to save a cat, perhaps?"

"oh that was you?" you jokingly say, he stopped walking in his tracks- baffled

"PFFT i was just kidding- come here" you both walk towards your house, walking at the same footstep rate. still laughing, reminiscing what happened. "for what its worth, i think it was cool that you tried saving... what's the name? Mr. Bitey? that was very brave of you" you chuckled. you both finally arrived at your front yard "well, why thank you y/n. i think it was very brave of you as well to follow the green stranger"

your laughs died down while you both looked into each other's eyes, he's admiring your features and you're admiring his. it was silent for a few seconds until he asked, "why'd you runaway? why'd you avoid me?" you didn't know what to say, while avoiding his eyes you say "i was scared, i was contemplating my.." you sigh while he looks at you with hopeful eyes. "i discovered that i like yo-" he cuts you off, feeling the warmth of his lips while he hugs your waist. you both begin to laugh again, his hands still around your waist. "i liked you ever since-" he says until you both hear your name being shouted from your house

"Y/N I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW YOU WERE ALWAYS WITH THAT PRETTY BOY!!!"

"MOM I SWEAR ITS NOT WHAT YOU THINK IT IS!!!" you peck his cheek, you whisper a quick 'i’msointoyo- imeantalktoyoutomorrowbye' winking back at him while running back into your house "moooommm let me explain wait-"

Dave turns around, starstruck, walks away feeling fulfilled. he didn't need to become a superhero, you were already one to him

a/n: ok i kinda cringed typing the last part but i ran out of ideas 🫠 thanks for reading!

[moonlightspencie]

college!dave lizewski x reader fic incoming

definitely going to be a bit smutty, but the question is this...

[lanaswritingbook]

I can’t tell you (1/2?)

Dave Lizewski x black!reader

Warnings: Cursing, argument, lost trust

Summary- Dave has been acting weird lately and when Yn finds out he was in a alleyway with another girl she loses full trust in him.

pt. 2- https://www.tumblr.com/spenceswife/736249594091012096/i-cant-tell-you-22

Today was a good day. I’ve been in the local cafe working on all my assignments for school when one of my friends popped up.

“Hey Yn!” Lisa sat in the chair across me

“Hey how you been?” I ask taking a sip of coffee

“Good… but i wanted to talk to you about something.” she said nervously moving side to side

“Yeah what’s up” she took a deep breath before replying

“So I was walking to the comic store earlier and I saw Dave in the Alleyway with a girl and uh his shirt was off.” I stared at her not trying to freak out.

“Oh. What’d she look like?” I tried to smile “She was white, blonde, and kinda short” she grabbed my hand immediately.

“I promise it’s okay to cry, we can go for a walk if you need” I shook my head trying to hide my watery eyes.

“It’s okay. I’ll talk to him” she gave me hug walking out the store.

It was one thing for Dave to start blowing me off out of nowhere but him being caught makes it worse.

I had to think about anyone it could be. Myself esteem started to lower, i’m nothing like the girl Lisa explained. I was a chubby black girl with curly hair. It’s just heartbreaking hearing your partner is with someone else.

-

“Hey babe” Dave kissed my cheek sitting down on the bleachers next to me.

I kept my head forward watching the other students play games around the gym.

“I’ve tried to catch your attention in the halls but I guess you didn’t see him” he gently laughed putting his hand over mine.

“I saw you.” I blankly say. “So why didn’t you stop?” he turned his head towards me trying to catch my eye.

“Thought you would have better plans to do” he raised his brow never really seeing me like this.

“Can you look at me? What are you talking about” he tried shifting me towards him.

I shake my head crossing my arms.

“Yn please. Why are you mad at me?” his big brown eyes begged. And as much as I wanted to kill him I couldn’t

“You don’t wanna be together anymore Dave? Just say that. Stop trying to keep me around when your bored” he jumped back

“Whoa whoa what are you talking about?” I roll my eyes

“For one everytime I try to hang you have a lame excuse as to why you can’t. And two Lisa told me she saw you in an alley with a girl. With your fucking shirt off Dave. So I think that’s why i’m mad at you.”

His mouth was open trying to think about what to say

“It’s definitely not what you think babe I promise.” he grabbed my hands looking me in the eyes

“Then tell me what it really was. Because this is a crazy thing to justify Dave.” he closed his eyes

“I can’t tell you…” ripping my hands from his grasp I grab my bag standing

“Yeah i’m done.” shaking my head I head out the gym towards the bathrooms.

Dave sat there in shock. Did he really just lose his girlfriend over a misunderstanding?

[hippiegoth97]

Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson x Reader Halloween Special (The Crow AU) Masterlist

"People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead. But sometimes, something so bad happens that a terrible sadness is carried with it and the soul can't rest. Then sometimes, just sometimes, the crow can bring that soul back to put the wrong things right."

divider by @strangergraphics

Hangman's Joke: An Eddie Munson The Crow AU

Description: You and Eddie had a good life together in Hawkins. You were a kickass librarian who donned nearly nothing but leather, and Eddie was a kind-hearted mentor to the next generation of the Hellfire Club. Everything was perfect. Your life, your job, your relationship. It was like a fairytale. Until one fateful night, just before Halloween, the town's small-minded religious hysteria got the best of itself. In the throes of Satanic Panic in the early nineties, everyone was convinced the Devil was out to get them. And their children. Unsubstantiated claims of ritual abuse brought four former bullies to your doorstep, to appoint you and Eddie as the town's scapegoats. After hours of unsuccessful torture, your assailants finish the job, leaving Chief Hopper to pick up the pieces as the rest of the town turns a blind eye to this crime. Exactly one year later, an opportunity to exact well-deserved revenge presents itself in a most unexpected way. Back from the dead, you're ready to avenge the only man who managed to capture your heart. And you plan to have a damn good bloody time doing it...

Warnings/Notes (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI): This story takes place in the 1990s, in an AU where none of the events relating to the upside-down occur. There will be intense swearing, violence, weapons, gore, blood, character death, assault/sexual assault, torture, etc in this story. BE WARNED. Other warnings include: fem!reader, mentions of smut, smoking, drug/alcohol use, murder, mentions of abuse. (If I miss anything here I will label each part when posted.)

Story Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @cxrrodedcoffin

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

can you do one where reader is Dunn’s girlfriend amd they are at a party with the crew celebrating the movie or something. Dunn is super touchy the whole night and they end up in the bathroom for a quickie 🙈 if you don’t write suggestive content they can just sneak to the bathroom to have a makeout session

Sneaking (Getting) Off

Jackass: Number Two has just finished filming, and what better way to celebrate than renting out the hottest bar in LA and hosting a kickass wrap party? Well, your boyfriend could think of a few better ways…

Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

(Fluff)

1.3k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, drinking, crude language, injury, implied sex, bathroom sex

An: Thank you so much for the request! If I’m being entirely honest, the way I depicted Ryan and Y/N’s relationship in this fics is pretty similar to how I would like my future relationships to look XD I’ve always thought that Dunn would, for lack of a better word, be the kind of person you could spend a lot of time arround. Anyways, thank you for the request, and please keep sending them!!

Typically, when Ryan and you were together, things could not be more chill. In essence, your relationship could be described as friends who shared the same bed; It wasn’t like a friends with benefits situation, you just weren't constantly on each other and overly affectionate like most couples are, and that low maintenance thing cut through the shit parts of dating. Now, note I specified ‘typically’, because once in a while- for a reason you couldn’t place- Dunn would get this weird bug up his ass and just couldn’t keep his hands off of you, like a male version of baby fever. This isn’t to say you didn’t enjoy it because you enjoyed it a great deal, thank you very much- but it wasn’t always the most convenient thing. Take, for example, tonight.

You arrived fashionably late, as you did to any event you attended. It was hot and muggy, as were most nights in LA, and the moment you stepped into the bar, you were greeted by Bam (one of Dunn’s dumb little buddies), who was visibly a few deep and had a fistful of darts in one hand and a beer in another, “Heyy, Ry! Me an’ the guys’re throwin’ darts at Steve-O’s ass- you gotta come check it out!” Politely palming the beer that was thrust in his direction, Ryan shook him off in the nicest way possible, “Yeah, that sounds cool! But I’ll, uh-“ From behind his shades, he shot a glance down at where he had you on his arm before turning back to Bam, ”I’ll catch up with you later. See ya, man.” Not dejected in the slightest, he just went back to doing whatever dumb shit he was occupied with before you showed up and you and Dunn went to grab a drink.

With how Ryan was stuck to your side like some needy dog that was begging for attention, you would’ve thought one of his dumb little buddies got into the superglue, but it’s not like you minded. You sat at the bar and chatted about the torture he had to endure for this movie, including him showing off some pretty questionable scars. There was something so enthralling about hearing him speak, and the way he looked at you as if you were the only girl in the room helped given the grisly subject matter. “This one’s from that stupid cacti jump stunt, and these-“ Dunn sat up from where he was leaning against the bar top and tugged up the bottom of his shirt, exposing the little red half moon scars that littered the pale skin of his stomach, “These’re from the riot control test. God, that one sucked so bad.” You winced in empathy, inhaling through your teeth. Taking a sip of your drink, you quickly shook it off and shifted the topic to something that had been on your mind for a while now, “Y’know, you can go hang out with your friends if you want. I mean, it’s your party after all.” There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in your words. Dunn just shrugged, cracking an amused smile as if you suggested something totally ridiculous, “Nah- I’m alright with you.”

It got to the point that you had to practically drag him to where the guys were clustered around a pool table and actively force him to hang out with his friends, but still, your efforts were ineffective. See, your boyfriend can be pretty quiet when it comes to wanting attention. To illustrate this, let’s compare him to Bam. If Bam wanted attention from his girlfriend, he would likely do some ridiculous stunt and end up hurting himself to force her to patch him up or slide up next to her if she was talking to another guy and get real handsy to make a big show of the fact that she was his. Ryan, on the other hand, didn’t look at you like that. In general, he was more subtle. Take for example, the way that he had been eyeing you from across the room even while he was off with his friends. Their stories about sleeping with strippers and getting their stomachs pumped went in one ear and out the other because he was so totally focused on you that night. And you were perceptive to this stuff because you knew Ryan. You knew all of his tells.

After maybe thirty minutes of drinking alone, you picked up on his voice from across the room, “Yeah- I'm gonna go get another drink. I’ll be right back!” You didn’t even need to look over to the previously empty stool at your side to know who sat down next to you. “What do you want?” Raising an eyebrow at your sarcasm, Dunn slipped a hand on your thigh, making you feel even warmer under the incandescent lights that hung above your heads, “You look hot.” Taking a swig of your drink, you turned so that you were face to face and dropped your voice down so as not to be heard over the chatter of the bar, “You’ve been starin’ at me all night like some lost puppy, and that’s the best pick up line you could come up with?” Your boyfriend chuckled, leaning in towards you so there was about an inch of room between your bodies. His hushed words were tinged with this conspiritory tone as he murmured, almost directly in your ear, “I think you know what I want.”

If there was one thing Ryan loved about you, it was how you could keep up with him. It was like some sexy Abott and Costello routine the two of you had- this ceaseless back and forth until one of you caved. Running your hand across the sticky, wooden countertop, you cooed your words slow and heavy with implication, “Right here? Right here on the bar?” Out of the corner of your eye, you could see some of the guys eyeing what was happening at the bar, which only served to fuel your teasing further, “Or what about the pool table over there? With all your friends watching us…” Despite the whole exhebitionism thing and the latent sexual appeal of green felt, Ryan had other plans in mind. Standing up, he cleared his throat before patting you on the back and scanning the room for something, “Nah- you’re a lady with class. I gotta better place.”

What a gentleman your boyfriend is, taking his woman of refinement off to the bathroom to screw. Hell, you couldn’t even say that, because you didn’t even make it into the stall before you were on each other. Yep, he caved all right. Hands on bodies, mouths on bodies- in this hormone fueled haze, it was hard to tell who began where as Dunn had you pressed against the cold tiled wall. The astringent scent of disinfectant mingled with cheap booze and desire as you practically tripped over each other’s feet. Ryan had you by the waist and your hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt and you practically tumbled into the nearest stall, clumsily locking it behind you. It was frantic and passionate- and fuck, it was hot.

Outside the ladies room, however, things were not nearly as sexy. Yep, the guys were still standing around, idly chatting and getting trashed with the occasional prank sprinkled on- think pissing on someone’s leg or sneaking up behind them with a pair of electric clippers. So consumed in their benign antics, it was half an hour before anyone noticed you were gone. It was Bam, funnily enough, who brought this to everyone’s attention. “Hey, has anyone seen Dunn?” Almost as if on cue, there you come totally not suspiciously stumbling out of the bathroom, adjusting your hair and buttoning up your top with Ryan right behind you. Yep, everyone knew. And the worst part was, you didn’t really care.

[mellowswriting]

the big day

pairing || Javier Peña x fem!Reader

word count || 1.3k 

summary || it isn’t until the reception that it finally hits him. you’re his wife. he can’t help but show you just how lucky he feels. 

content || SMUT, unprotected sex, kinda public sex (they fuck at their wedding reception (typical)), idiots in love, husband!Javi is fuckin SCRUMPTIOUS lemme tell ya, the beginnings of Javi’s housewife kink 🙏🏻, this man is in loooove

a/n || i truly cannot stop writing about husband!Javier. inject him straight into my veins PLS (obligatory @theorganasolo​ tag, as always)

Javier Masterlist  |  Main Masterlist 

Javier can’t believe that you’re actually his. His wife. The entire day has been such a whirlwind from beginning to end that the surrealness is only just wearing off. As he watches you laugh, dance, and drink with him and everyone else you love, he realizes… you’re his. Forever. He gets to spend the rest of his life with this beautiful, intelligent, fiery woman every single day. He was never a particularly traditional man but he can’t deny the allure of the life he gets to lead with you. Soft. Warm. Domestic. He never thought he would have this kind of life - or that it would make his dick so fucking hard. 

It takes good timing. The two of you are the center of attention, after all. Slipping off unnoticed won’t be easy but Javier is nothing if not a man with a plan. He waits, albeit impatiently, until enough alcohol has flowed and the guests are sufficiently distracted by music and food to whisk you away into some back room of the venue with a lockable door. You knew what he was up to more than an hour ago. The need that burns in his eyes is one you have seen far too many times to count. So when he suddenly appears beside you and tugs impatiently at your waist, you’re a more than willing captive. 

Javier whirls you down a hallway, around a corner, and into a random room he must have scoped out for this exact reason. The moment the door closes behind you, he pulls you close and kisses you with a hunger that has you melting into him. You let him guide you further into the room, blindly trusting him to lead you back and lift you onto the edge of a table. The skirt of your pretty little reception dress bunches up at your waist under his eager hands. The sight of you in a gorgeous white dress with his ring on your finger, officially his wife… fuck, he just can’t stop himself. 

His eyes flash up to yours as his fingers rub your lace-covered pussy, reveling in your little gasp and the fevered way you whisper his name. He isn’t the only one who’s been thinking about this. Javier yanks your underwear off and stashes the wet fabric in his pocket. You can’t help but tease him for being a dirty little thief, even as you eagerly undo his belt before tugging him closer by it. 

“We’re finally married… Can you believe it?” There’s an earnestness to your voice that makes his heart flutter in his chest. Your eyes are shiny with love and lust, and Javier swears he’s never been more in love with you. Then again, he thinks that every time he lays eyes on you. You smile at him and whisper, “I’m your wife, Javi.”

“Fuck yeah, you are. My amazing, kickass wife. All mine…” Javier damn near growls. His cock twitches against the confining fabric of his boxers at the pure reverence in your voice. Your thighs spread for him as he presses closer, eager to let him grind against your pussy. It’s hard to resist his usual temptations. Javier wants to hitch your thighs over his shoulders and eat you out until you soak his face. He wants to work you open on his fingers and suck marks into your delicate skin. 

But there isn’t enough time for that. It won’t take long for the guests to begin wondering where the two of you disappeared off to. Two weeks, Javier reminds himself. After tonight, he will have two weeks in a tropical paradise to take you apart for him over and over again.

“We have to be quick, hermosa.” Javier shoves his pants and briefs down to his mid-thigh and yanks you down by your hips. “Gotta fuck my pretty little wife before anyone comes lookin’ for us.” 

Javier doesn’t waste any time. He clamps his hand over your mouth as he buries himself inside of you, muffling the indecent cry that falls from your lips. The hot vice of your pussy forces a broken sound from him and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet. It’s rushed and sloppy and so full of love that he aches with it. One hand flies back to brace yourself against his thrusts and the other wraps around his wrist, your manicured nails leaving little crescent marks in his skin. You barely manage to pry his hand away to let a sweet little plea escape your lips. 

“Kiss me?” You whisper.  

Javier gives in to you without a second thought, without a second of hesitation. He cradles the back of your head with his huge hand and draws you up into a breathtaking kiss. The sweet little moan he draws from you only encourages his greed. When it comes to your pleasure, he always needs more. He needs to have you trembling beneath him. Crying out his name as he draws you to a devastating orgasm. Looking up at him with that delicious fucked-out expression on your beautiful face. 

“Thaaat’s it…” He encourages, his voice gruff and needy. He shoves his hand beneath your dress and finds your clit with familiar ease. He watches with bated breath as your face as your eyes flutter shut and your head tips back in pleasure. The sight never fails to send a spark of pride simmering through his veins. “Takin’ my cock like a good girl, aren’t you?” 

“Javi,” You whisper his name like a prayer. “I’m - fuck! I’m close, so fuckin’ close… please!” 

Javier knows exactly what you need. He shifts you both just slightly until his hips roll down with each thrust. It’s all it takes to have you quivering around him, both hands digging into his shoulders, clinging to him for support. Javier presses his forehead to yours and drinks in the sight of you falling apart for him. A shudder wracks through your entire body as you cry his name into his shoulder. 

Everything else melts away. The venue, the expectant guests, all of it. All that exists in this moment is you. The woman he loves. The woman he is lucky enough to have by his side for the rest of his life. His wife. Coming with his cock buried as deep as you can take him. Every pulse drags him closer to his inevitable end but it's your voice that finally does it. That sweet, fucked-out voice whispering, “I love you” over and over again like they’re the only three words left in your head. You whimper with every harsh jerk of his hips. Such a pretty little sound that only ignites that deeply ingrained need to take care of you. 

Javier kisses you softly. Your smile is so big that he can barely keep it up, so he lets his lips trail over your jaw and down your neck. You’re all too eager to tilt your head for more, fingers tangling in his hair with a happy little hum. He murmurs his praise, his love, into your skin as if he can etch the words right into your DNA. 

It isn’t until two short knocks come from the door that Javier comes back to himself. 

“I can only stall for you two lovebirds for so long, ya know?” Comes Murphy’s amused voice from the other side. 

Javier groans as his head falls into the crook of your shoulder. You thank Steve with a giggle that never fails to bring a smile to your husband’s face. He’s reluctant to pull away from you but he knows he has no choice. Besides, he wants to dance with his bride. Javier cleans you up with gentle swipes of your now-ruined underwear, while you meticulously fix his tuxedo. 

He carefully brushes your hair out of your face, returning it to a somewhat presentable state. His hands come to rest on your cheeks. “I’m gonna make you so happy, mi amor. I swear it.”