#let me know if there's any typos or mistakes!!!

[ittyybittybaker]

He looked over the words he had scrawled onto a scrap piece of paper, even though he knew them by heart: He will hear my call a mile away He can run faster than anyone else He’ll have hair like fire and eyes like ice He will be mean and kind at the same time He will be a liar but never lie to me He will always know what I mean even when i’m not saying anything He will never hurt me on purpose Andrew casts a not-love spell as a child, and he never expects to meet an impossible man who fits all his criteria almost 20 years later

Title from Dose No. 2 by The Maine

fic playlist

My submission for @aftg-paranormal fest is here! This is part one of my Practical Magic Au. I hope y'all enjoy!

[pagesofkenna]

My Outer Wilds Solar System Map Embroidery Pattern is finally done, and up for sale on my ko-fi!

The pattern includes a printable template (which you can use on printable fabric, or copy onto your fabric by hand) plus a 25-page booklet detailing the steps to take for every section of the pattern. I've also included suggestions on how to improve on my initial design!

This is currently up on my ko-fi for $4 USD, and is a digital product (nothing physical will ship; you'll have to supply your own fabric and thread, though I give a list of all the DMC thread colors I used).

Thank you to everyone who reached out over the last two years expressing interest in this project!

[tornado1992]

News! I got an Ao3 account! Yaaaay!

Hopefully this will motivate me to actually work on my drafts as to make them complete enough to be considered fanfics, cause at this point most of them can’t even pass as rambles about the bros in situations and I need to work on that!

Here it is if you’d like to check it out!

As for now, I’ve only got one “fic” posted at the moment, if you’ve been around my blog for long enough you’ve probably already read it before, nothing fancy, just a small shot about Sonic suffering from a cold, plus angst.

Its selection as my first ever fanfic uploaded on Ao3 is due to its vagueness in terms of continuity and universe placement, as I got other works which have specifics places on specifics points in the franchise, so this was my opportunity to test the waters as to how the archive works.

I have a few fics planned since a few months ago, and a really long term fic since more than a year ago, but I’ll need time to learn how to properly use the archive, so in the meantime I’ll be posting the few one shots that I already have on my blog.

If you are one of the few who showed interest on me getting an Ao3 and updating some months old stories I ask for your patience! And if you didn’t but still want to read what I’ll be posting, I ask for patience and faith! I’ll need it!

[feverdreamdrifting]

so ever since I saw this wonderful post, i've been wanting to make my own post explaining exactly how gideon's name is transliterated into kiriona, because it's kind of blowing my mind a little now that i've thought about it. keep in mind that i'm not a linguist nor do i speak Te Reo Māori. I'm just a person who has taken several linguistics classes and is interested in this kind of thing.

So the first thing to know is that not all languages have the same set of individual sounds. These individual sounds are called phonemes, and this is what creates accents. For example, Spanish has the phoneme (the flap, if you know IPA) that many people refer to as a "rolled r," but English does not. So when English speakers try to pronounce that phoneme, they often replace it with the most similar sound they can produce, which might be the English "r" or "d" sound.

The second thing to know is that "transliteration is the process of converting texts from one script to another based on the phonetic similarity." So transliteration is essentially the process of replacing sounds with their most similar counterparts in the target language.

Okay, enough background information. Let's take a look at Te Reo Māori's specific set of consonants:

so you'll notice that Māori actually doesn't have a "g" sound at all! but what it does have is a "k" sound. "k" and "g" are both velar stops; they are literally produced in the EXACT same way in the mouth. the ONLY difference is that "g" has vocal chord vibration, and "k" does not. this means that "k" is as close as you can possibly get to saying "g" in Māori, which explains how you get the switch from "g" in gideon to "k" in kiriona.

now let's talk about the "i" sounds. I don't want to get too technical here because vowels are confusing and this post is long enough already, but keep in mind that these sounds are actually not pronounced the same way, i don't think. the "i" in gideon is like the the "i" in the word kid (for IPA knowers: "ɪ"). Māori does not have this sound, but it does have the "i" vowel sound being used in the English words bead or deed. the "long e" as they say. so that's probably how the first"i" in kiriona is actually being pronounced, if i had to guess.

okay! let's look at the next sound, namely the "d" and the "r." looking at the chart again, you'll notice that Māori doesn't have the English "d" sound at all. but what it DOES have is this sound here: "ɾ." this is referred to as a tap or flap, and it's the same sound that the dd's make in the English word "ladder." it's also used very frequently in Spanish in words like "pero," where it is represented with the letter "r." so that explains that switch; the "r" in kiriona is actually pronounced as a flap, which can sound similar to "d" for English speakers depending on the word. again, this flap sound represented by the letter "r" is probably the closest you could get to saying "d" in Māori.

next up, the "e" in gideon and the second "i" in kiriona. i think these are probably the same sound. they are both that "long e" sound as in bead or deed or meet that I mentioned before. so in kiriona, there's two i's, both representing the same sound. same sound, same letter! if only english spelling could be so consistent.

the o's are not the same sound i don't think, but this post is so long. just know that again, Māori does not have the sound that "o" is making in gideon. but they're written with the same letter here so i'm not gonna get into it, sorry.

the n's are the same! moving on

the last thing to know here is that not all languages have the same possible syllable structures. in English, it is possible for a syllable to end with a consonant. for example, the name "Bob" ends with a consonant. no problem, right? well, Māori has the syllable structure (C)V(V(V)), meaning that a syllable literally cannot end in a consonant. it HAS to end in a vowel. so if we split the name gideon into syllables, it's like this: gi.de.on. you can see that the last syllable ends with the consonant "n." this is simply not possible in Maori, so the solution is to add another vowel onto the end, hence the "a" in kiriona. that way it can be syllabified as ki.ri.o.na, which ensures that none of the syllables end in a consonant.

so there you have it! kiriona is as close as you could possibly get to saying gideon according to the rules of Te Reo Māori.

[maxwell-mtv]

Sleepless Nights with Morris and Pierre (Stardew Valley)

Heyo! Do you have ✨insomnia?✨ Do you frequently find yourself up at all odd hours of the night, no matter how little sleep you get the night before?! Well boy, are you not alone because I wrote some handy-dandy headcanons of how those sleepless nights might go with the businessmen of Pelican Town! I included both perspectives of whether it is they who are having troubles sleeping, or if it's you who may be struggling. Here's a little disclaimer (as is usual from me):

[Disclaimer: As with all my headcanons, they're all based off my game play which involves the Stardew Expanded Mod and Marry Morris Mod (and possibly more I don’t remember downloading). In this scenario, Joja is still in business but Pierre and Caroline are now divorced. Trigger warning for alcohol, smoking, and hinted marijuana use. Please enjoy and let me know of any headcanons you'd like to see from me!]

🌆 Morris:

It’s sad to say there’s more nights than not where you can find Morris up at all odd hours of the night

Sometimes he’ll simply be pacing while other times you’ll find him slumped on the couch with a book he only can reread a single page on

Whenever you find him it’s one of two things: general anxiety or stress from his job

“What are you doing up this late?” He’ll ask you with a concerned scowl

“I could ask you the same.” You’ll retort.

“Fair point.” He never likes talking about his problems outside of surface level, everyday stuff. But when you can manage to catch him in his most vulnerable state, which happens to be on those nights where he’s especially distressed, he’ll confess what’s on his mind

With worried eyes, he’ll list off all that ails him and more, eventually divulging into a rant about how “kids these days never want to work! Back in my day…”

And so on and so on, until one of you stops him mid sentence to take a few deep breaths and calm down

“I have to do inventory with half the staff because Claire has some odd appointment to attend to and Shane is out on medical leave! How do they expect a staff of three to inventory an entire store and submit the numbers by tomorrow?” He’ll ask you in an exasperated tone, putting his head in his hands

It’s never easy to repeat the same routine nearly every week, but it’s what needs to be done. On the bright side, you now know how to decipher between whether it’s a non-caffeinated-tea or a classic warm-glass-of-milk night.

Although you may sometimes find him with a glass of scotch or whiskey in his hands when he goes through these spells, you try hard to shuffle him away from the potential alcohol dependency (thus the tea or milk being a frequent solution you provide)

On that note, if Morris is the one to find you awake with insomnia, he’ll quickly rush to the first solution he’s always known to work

Coming to your side, he’ll hand you a glass of something potent and tell you it’ll do the trick

After a sniff and sip, you’ll quickly realize what it is and you’ll scold him for trying to give you a stiff drink as a solution

“My father used to give that to me growing up and it always did the trick for me!” He’ll defend himself with that mischievous smirk of his

After his rejected solution of drinking till you’re too dizzy to stay upright, he’ll finally ask you what he can do to help, which usually leads to him simply sitting with you.

Sometimes he’ll take you on a walk around your farm and other times he’ll just do as you do with him so often and make you some tea to calm your nerves

Either way, he’s encouraging you to talk to him, if there’s anything in particular keeping you up

He will not push you to go back to bed but rather stay up with you, no matter how tired he is, until you’re ready to go to bed yourself

When and if you manage to feel ready to try and sleep again, he’ll walk with you back upstairs and make sure you’re comfortable and don’t need anything before he climbs back into bed with you

He’ll persist through his own exhaustion to make sure you fall asleep before he does

On the rare occasion, he’ll even gently trace the shape of your face with his finger while telling you stories from his work

If you ask him why he does this, he’ll try to avoid the topic, making it seem more ominous and creepy than it is

Eventually, he will tell you it’s simply something his mother used to do for him when he was a little boy to help him fall asleep

As soon as he knows for a fact that you’re out for the night, he’ll often say something more tender and sweet to you than he typically does. Some form of an “I love you” but with some extra vulnerability

🌇 Pierre:

It’s not often Pierre has a night where he feels completely incapable of sleeping at any point

He’ll often stay up later, yes, but he’s typically passed out by 2 in the morning

But on those rare, rare occasions, you can find him on the balcony, smoking a cigarette you didn’t know he had. Is that skunk you smell?

Getting up to see what was on the man’s mind, you’ll have to approach him gently, Yoba forbid you sneak up on the poor man and make him drop his smoke in surprise

“Oh hey,” he’ll glance down at you with a soft smile, “sorry, I’ll be back to bed in a minute. I just… need a moment.” He’ll turn his attention to the town square below

It’s almost a guarantee that the reason he’s up is something related to his sinking ship of a shop and Joja Mart’s hand in its downfall

Some nights he’ll just go off on a tangent about how big corporations shouldn't be allowed to exist and basically how it's not fair to more sustainable businesses like his

But most nights you two will just take in the night air of the town, taking in the serenity

After Pierre finishes his smoke he’ll come back to bed with you, holding you close as some form of comfort in an otherwise harsh reality

Sadly, if you’re the one up with insomnia, Pierre will hardly ever notice as he’s (for the most part) a heavy sleeper

But if he notices your absence from the bed, he’ll wait a few minutes before looking for you

He’ll first look in the bathroom, then the kitchen, and finally outside

The moment he finds you, he’ll put a hand on your shoulder and ask you why you’re not in bed

If it’s from anxiety? Buckle up because he’s going to sit you down (if you aren’t already sitting) to talk it out until he is sure you are okay

Believe it or not, he was the parent to stay up with Abigail when she couldn’t sleep at night

His dad-ishness sort of shines through in these moments

But he’ll talk you through things and calmly assure you everything will be fine

Once he manages to get you back to bed, he’ll hold you close if you let him

Despairingly, unlike Morris, he won’t be able to stay awake, let alone have the idea to stay up, until he knows you’re asleep. That man will be out like a light the moment his cheek hits his pillow and he pulls you into his arms

Rest assured, in the morning, if he even knew you had a sleepless night, he’ll be up early with breakfast and coffee ready-to-go!

[imthefemalemonster]

⸻Do you think about me now?

Daemond - Daemon Targaryen x Aemond Targaryen (Smut)

Chapter I. Like you a little

⸻ Summary: After the dinner, Aemond regain his chambers, accompanied by Cole, who worries about Daemon's potential hostility. But when the Rogue Prince shows up, it's nothing like Cole expected.

Tags: Shameless Smut, Anal Sex, Kisses, Voyeurism (It's Cole), Jealousy, Top!Daemon, Bottom!Aemond, I like my men manipulative, Daemond not really established but mention of previous sexual intercourses

⸻ Read on Ao3

Notes: This is inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr were Daemond fucks and Cole is behind the door hearing them, I can’t find it again but I thought I had to make it into shameless smut because the prompt is just too good - hope you like it. ♡

Tumblr for requests/ideas: @imthefemalemonster

Some HotD smut prompts I used for inspiration: here

⸻ Words: 2391

The walk was mostly silent, hands behind his back, head up, Aemond was walking to his chamber, mind elsewhere when Cole was shadowing him. He had left the dinner in haste after provoking his nephews once more, his mother asking her knight to follow him. She was surely worried that Daemon would be waiting for him somewhere if he dared stepping out of his chambers or wandering the corridors alone. Aemond could only wish he met his uncle again now, it was only better when he was challenged. Arriving at his chambers, the prince turned to face Cole, his face showing a mix of worries and incomprehension.

“What? Will you ground me too?”

Cole shook his head, hesitating.

“That might have been a bit excessive.”

“Don’t tell me you would take their defense.”, sighed Aemond.

“Never said so, I would have probably pushed him harder if I wasn’t wearing a kingsguard armor.”, exhaled Cole, convinced he probably wouldn’t have only pushed him, “I was only but worried about the Rogue’s Prince intervention.”

Aemond shrugged his shoulders. Oh, he loved when Cole mentioned Daemon. It was always with a delicious mix of worries and jealousy. What he would give to see them fight for him more often.

“I don’t fear him, may he come if he dares.”, snarled Aemond, not blind to Cole obvious interests, those were much more deeper than just protecting the Queen’s son.

“He dares.”

The voice came with a smile. Standing behind the knight, Daemon was staring at his nephew, eyes piercing through the clothes, acting like he had never seen what was under. Aemond smiled at the sight, delighted, it was the perfect scenario. He had expected his uncle to arrive later, when nobody was here like he always did. Gods know what would happen to them if anyone was to find out. But having Cole as a witness this time was only making him more eager. He understood by his uncle’s smile that he seemed to share the idea.

“I need to have a talk with the boy.”

“The Prince”, corrected Cole, fists clenched.

“Whatever”, sighed Daemon, stepping closer to the door, nonchalantly, ignoring the knight.

“It’s fine”, whispered Aemond, “We’ve done this before. I am to get scolded, then he’ll leave satisfied.”

Daemon raised an eyebrow toward his nephew, unsure what were the rules of tonight’s game. Aemond opened the door, letting his uncle go through. He turned to Cole who hadn’t moved, confused.

“Can you”, he commenced, voice low, leaning closer, “Can you stand outside? J-just in case.”, his eye wide open, head

“Of course of my Prince, please let me know-”

“Thanks”, softly smiled Aemond, before disappearing behind the door, closing it.

The worry in the boy’s voice pierced Cole’s heart. It was rare for Aemond to look so vulnerable. He looked up to him, still needing his protection and Cole would do everything to give him, ready to step into the room and cut Daemon’s head off, just like the Prince liked it. He smiled at the idea, impossible to realize, but at least he could still stop him from hurting his boy and that was enough for Cole.

Aemond had just closed the door that his body was smashed against the door, a loud noise echoing in the room, and probably heard outside too, he hoped. Hands on his waist, Daemon had turned the boy to face him, blocking his body between his and the hard door, not as hard as him. His face hungrily brushed Aemond’s, lips dangerously close.

“That hurt.”, murmured the one-eyed prince.

“Sure hope it did.”

The sudden noise had the knight jumping. Hand on his sword, he moved closer to the door, not opening it yet. If he stood close enough, Cole could hear inside the room. The voices seemed to come right from behind the closed door. But the noises didn’t sound like voices, more like… giggles?

“Time for another punishment for the arrogant Prince.”, laughed Daemon.

“I was only stating facts.”

“Shut up, I didn’t tell you to use your tongue.”

Aemond laughed, loud enough to make sure everyone nearby heard him. It was rapidly silenced by his uncle's sudden assault on his mouth. Lips clashed in a fight Aemond never really wanted to win. Daemon made sure to be as noisy as he could, using lips, saliva, tongue in a grandiose orchestra of obscenity. He kissed roughly, biting the lower lip, a hand reaching to grab the back of his nephew’s neck, the other pounding irregularly on the wooden door. Aemond smirked in the kisses, tongues massaging, lips connected by saliva between breaths, obvious to his uncle little game.

“Can’t let him think you’re fucking me already.”, he giggled, hands grazing Daemon’s leathered torso, feeling his heart beat and the strong muscles beneath he craved to see.

“Right, little brat”, grunted Daemon, nails scratching his nephew’s collar, slowly undoing it, “Have to let him know I’m preparing you for my cock.”, the last word purposefully louder than the others.

Aemond bit his lips in anticipation. Having a potential audience was making it so much more exciting, danger is arousing, so is jealousy.

“Want to let him know who I belong to, uncle?”, mewled Aemond.

Daemon closed the distance between them, shoving their hips together, kisses loud and wet. The Rogue Prince would make sure that whoever was standing behind the door, the stupid knight he hoped, would know who his nephew belonged to. Him. Sucking the Prince’s bottom lip into his mouth, Daemon only grew harder when Aemond answered with heavy breaths and loud moans against his face, unhinged.

“Y-yes, uncle!”, yelled Aemond, their hips moving back and forth, pounding against the door, moving to the rhythm of their hard center’s ruts.

Daemon laughed. Hands working fast on the one-eyed Prince’s top, freeing him, doing the same with the pants, going slower as his lips traced the white shivering body under him, Aemond pleading, melting at the touch. Daemon deliberately ignored his throbbing cock, before moving up to devour his nephew’s mouth, stepping out of his own clothes with haste.

Cole wished he could hit the door, maybe his fist would go through and reach the Rogue Prince, punching his stupid smile out of his face. He was everything but stupid. This was obviously not a fight, but much worse. He wanted to step away from the door, but his body wouldn’t move, mind hungry at the noises and moans from the very thing he wanted to possess most.

“Be a good boy and spread your legs.”

Aemond obeyed, moaning his uncle’s name as he turned him around, face against the door, back arched, the hot air in the room grazing his sensitive ass. Eye looking behind him, he savored the view, cock growing painfully harder at the sight of his uncle's naked body, sculpted white skins and scars. He wished it to be pressed against his, trapped between the broad body pounding inside him and the hard door stroking his cock hoping Cole was still here to hear it all.

But he wasn't met with his uncle's chest or hips, but his hands on his asscheeks, squeezing them lustfully, lips and tongue teasing his hole. Fingers digging into the soft flesh, Daemon parted it away, mouth connecting with the rim, making Aemond moan loudly at the contact. Mouth closing on the Prince’s skin, Daemon licked harshly, obscene and wet noises escaping his mouth, fucking the hole with his tongue, stretching the boy open.

“A-ah, fuck yes Daemon!”, screamed Aemond, the tongue roughly fucking his inside, walls clenching around it, saliva dropping along his leg, “More! M-more!”

“Such a whore.”, smiled Daemon, moving backward, stepping up, pressing his body against Aemond’s, shaft rock hard between the Prince’s asscheeks.

“Only for you, uncle.”, moaned Aemond against the door.

He should have moved by now. Cole's entire body was frozen. He was as aroused as infuriated. It was always Daemon who had it all. He raised that boy like his own, and yet he couldn’t even hope to caress his hair. But his uncle could show up abruptly in his room and fucks him open, and Aemond begged for it. He felt hot, as hot as the room on the other side of the door could be. This was definitely going to go further, maybe he could stand here, if he closed his eyes and focused hard enough, he could imagine it was him instead of Daemon. Pinning the boy against the door, lifting him up like he weighed nothing and pounding his own cock inside his warm and inviting hole while Aemond would be nothing but a moaning mess for him.

Needily grinding against his nephew's hot body, Daemon buried his face into Aemond’s neck, licking the sweat, kissing and biting the skin to leave marks everyone would see and nobody would dare question. Growling as he felt his cock rub against his own saliva at the one eyed Prince’s entrance, the man pushing back harder against him, inviting. He smiled, one hand reaching for his cock, slowly and agonizingly pushing the top against the abused hole, the other hand going for the Prince’s chest against the door, pinching his pink and sensitive nipple.

Without warning, body pressed against Aemond, his own nipples on the boy’s hot back, Daemon pushed his hips forward, entering his nephew with a low groan, hips slamming the wood, hoping the lustful sounds went directly into the knight’s ears. The Rogue Prince was uninterested in letting his nephew adapt to his size. He had taken him too often to know he would do great, instead he started to fuck him right away, pushing in and out, a hand moving to the man’s waist, grabbing him harshly. Aemond responded to the assault with pleas and his body instinctively moving backward, his hips’ rhythm synchronizing with his uncle. His cock neglected and untouched, but the pain was as delicious as the blood rushing to his member leaving his brain empty, only feeding himself off his uncle filling him.

“H-harder!”

Daemon smiled, finding an erratic and delightful pace as he felt Aemond clench around him, moving his legs so his cock could reach deeper, tearing off delicious screams from his nephew as he hit those spots inside him. It was wet, messy and warm.

“Harder!”, begged Aemond, breathless, hands pounding against the door, like an irregular knock, “Cole!”

Too lost chasing his own release, Daemon didn’t stop even after hearing the words, unsure if he had imagined them or if it was real.

Cole froze. His imagination had gone too far, he had no idea he was so good as imagining his Prince screaming his name. He smiled at the idea, before realizing that the movements against the door had slowed. What it is really his imagination or was Aemond twisted enough to moan his name when his own uncle was buried so deep inside him the strongest men couldn’t spread them apart? The boy was smart, way too smart and he was making both of the men mad, for his pleasure. Cole only grew harder in his armor thinking about Daemon’s face right now. The Rogue Prince might be inside Aemond, but his Cole was never far.

Daemon dug his fingers deeper in Aemond's waist, the man emitting a small sob. His cock buried deep inside, not moving anymore as he observed the younger Prince’s breath, very aware of what he was trying to do. Jealousy always makes things better.

“Going to stretch you so wide you won’t even feel his cock when he fucks your hole”, rasped Daemon, “Since you want it so much.”

Aemond giggled, Daemon picked up his bestial and erratic pace again, both hands on the Prince waist, arms, legs, cock, entire body at the same rythm to tear Aemond apart, cock reaching spots it had never been before.

“There’s enough space for the two of you.”

Daemon smirked, there definitely was some space, thanks to him.

“How depraved.”

“I’ve always been brave.”

“Arrogant too.”

“Tell me more.”, cooed Aemond, ass and legs moving backward to meet Daemon’s hips, pushing him deeper inside.

“I’ll fill you up to the brim.”, grunted Daemon, leaning closer, hot breath and lips brushing the younger Prince’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.

The words were enough for Aemond, grinding his own erection against the hard door, wood painful on his cock as he came over it and himself, screaming what seemed to be a mix of both his men’s names.

“Gods, only from that?”, husked Daemon, feeling the boy’s body tense from the orgasm.

“O-only?”, laughed Aemond, legs, arms, nipples and hole hypersensitive, feeling like Daemon was pounding in his entire body at once, “Who would have thought the Rogue P-prince”, he breathed, “W-would underestimate his size… and what it d-does when it fucks you.”

“Hm, I liked you better shutting up, or moaning”, smirked Daemon, very aroused at Aemond’s insolence, it only made him more delicious to break.

Nails dug as deep in his nephew’s waist as Daemon’s cock in the tight hole, he moved brutally inside, lips sucking the skin of the Prince’s neck in his mouth, feeling him almost collapse in his arms as his hot seed filled Aemond, he came with a loud and guttural groan.

Breathless, Daemon stood still inside his nephew, using his last strength to push his cock deeper, making sure his cum had coated the younger Prince’s insides. He leaned in, they body shaking but still standing against the door, face finding each other as they kissed, fucking each other’s mouths eagerly. Hands cupping the reddened cheeks, moving out of Aemond, his seed running alongside the man’s leg with a mix of sweat and saliva. Daemon smiled, contemplating his masterpiece, once again. He was delighted, but his painting was still missing some work.

“Bed.”, he ordered.

Aemond smirked, he was brave, very brave, and hungry with his uncle’s stamina.

The noises had stopped, Cole felt no presence on the other side of the door. Not wanting to imagine further, unable to think that Aemond would have taken his uncle to bed, he shook his head and left. At least now that he heard the one eyed Prince’s moans, he didn’t have to imagine them anymore when he would wander into his darkest fantasies.

[krasnayavedma]

“Can’t sleep?”

Laying on the couch covered with a blanket, tired eyes stare at the TV in front of her. While she watched whatever was currently playing, Wanda's thoughts were elsewhere. Her mind kept going to Ethan, and how her feelings for him slowly began to develop more and more. With all the time spent together as friends and in bed, she couldn't shake how she felt. While she hoped it was a passing thing, at this point her feelings had gone on long enough that she knew better.

Not knowing how much time had gone by, she hardly registered his presence until his question came. Wanda shook her head, her gaze unwavering. Another heartbeat goes by before a quiet admission fills the air and she finally looks at him. ❝ I don't know if I can do this anymore, Ethan. I love you. I'm . . . I'm in love with you. And . . . and I know this isn't what we agreed when we entered a friends with benefits relationship but I can't help it. My feelings for you started ever since you took me sailing and the truth is, I've been scared to admit it because I don't want to ruin what we have. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not at all. As much as I've tried to hide what I've been feeling lately . . . I just, I can't anymore. ❞

Her confession took a huge weight off her shoulders; however, there was also that little bit of fear and anxiety that surrounded her because she knew there was a chance that her friendship with Ethan would end. Their friendship meant so much to her, and it wasn't something she was willing to risk until now. She guessed being tired had a role to play for her sudden revelation. ❝ We've been friends for long enough that I know you don't like to commit but I wanna start thinking about the future. I still want to have fun and live but I also want to settle down some day, and maybe even have kids. I just don't know if that's what you want, too. ❞

Send me "can't sleep?" to have a tired conversation with my muse in the middle of the night / @coogars !

[badolmen]

ID: A tweet by BreakThrough News @/BTnewsroom that reads, “Cuban women have decided to shave their heads in solidarity with the Palestinian people. The symbolic act representing sorrow and sacrifice has started to spread to other countries.”

Attached is a video of a dark skinned woman with white hair and a white keffiyeh over her shoulders. She is outdoors, with a Palestinian flag hung on a wall in the background. A pale skinned woman in a yellow dress is using an electric razor to shave the woman’s head as she speaks. The English translated subtitles are as follows,

“Zionism has to be hit hard and we women won’t stand back because Cuban women are women who overcome the impossible.”

Footage of the woman having her head shaved continues to play as an English voice over continues,

“Cuban women have decided to shave their heads to show their solidarity with Palestinian mothers and children who have suffered form Israeli genocide in the Gaza stip for more than 75 years. With this, they seek to use their bodies as a vehicle of protest against Zionism, which today kills men, women, and children in the occupied Palestinian Territories.”

The previous woman’s interview continues, with her name and identification, Natalia Quintana - Cuban mother, which briefly pops up over the footage in the lower left of the video before fading. The English translated subtitles read as follows,

“First of all, it hurts my soul that there are so many eyes on Palestine and that a genocide like that cannot be stopped. It hurts my soul so much that each hair that has fallen here cannot demonstrate the enormous pain that each one of us Cuban women feel.”

The English voice over resumes as footage of hair cutting continues to play.

“Cuban women claim that cutting their hair is an act of resistance inspired by the struggle of Palestinian women and mothers.”

Natalia Quintara’s interview continues,

“Hair has always been a symbol of beauty and femininity for women. And I give up everything for the sake of universal peace and for every child and woman in Gaza.”

Footage of the haircut of another dark skinned woman with white hair, Margarita Veldez - Cuban mother, plays as she speaks.

“The genocide they are committing against the Palestinian people is very unjust. And the only defense we women in other countries, in this case in Cuba, have at this time is to shave our heads and support them.”

Natalia Quintara’s interview continues,

“The hair grows back, but the children that have been killed in Palestine will not live again.”

The English voice over resumes, with further footage of Cuban womens’ haircuts and phone footage of haircuts of non-Cuban women.

“The initiative was initially launched in Cuba, but other women from Latin American and other countries around the world have already joined in. More than 60 women in countries such a Puerto Rico, Mexico, Venezuela, the United Kingdom, and the United States. From Cuba, they assure that the Palestinian people will win in their struggle to achieve their independence and their right to live in peace.”

Footage of an interview with pale skinned woman with a shaved head and a keffiyeh around her neck, Aniet Venero - Cuban activist, has the following English subtitles,

“I am sure that they will win and I embrace them, I embrace them tightly from here with all my love and with all the dignity in the world and will all the strength. And this will always be until victory.”

The video end card is the BT logo, which was transparently displayed in the top right corner throughout this video. End ID.

[amarienelle]

[em-dashes]

suddence has gone through so many rereads and revisions and test reads and i'm STILL finding typos. what in the world

[mattsmunch]

── 𖦹 ! pretty when you cry - c.s

MEAN!chris sturniolo x CRYBABY!femreader

✎: "take it just— fuck…just like that…your pussy was fucking made f’me"

ᝰ.ᐟ WC: 7k

⚠︎: SMUT!, established relationship, mean!chris x crybaby!reader, alcohol usage, unprotected p in v (no bueno), fingering, oral (f!receiving), PETNAMES ( baby, ma, sweet girl, & big girl is used like twice but not necessarily as a pet name pls spare me😓) +++ so much more.

⟢ REQUESTED?: yes! in this ask.

⟢ AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DONT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. NOT proof read, sorry for any typos :,)

ᝰ.ᐟ

chris was pissed.

not only had you ditched lunch plans with him to go shopping with nick and madison, but it was now 7:21pm and he was sat in the passenger seat of matts car reading off directions to your current location.

while you started off the day with plans for a simple shopping spree, Nick and Madison quickly turned the trip into a "two girls and a gay" extravaganza. despite your initial reluctance, the combined power of Madison's fluttering eyelashes and Nick's charm convinced you to join in on their mimosafest. by the fourth glass, you were already feeling a bit fuzzy, but then Nick reminded you of his and Madison’s upcoming month-long tour. that was the final nail in the coffin—you knew you wouldn’t survive that long without your bestie trio.

the decision to join in on the club night with Nick and Madison had led you here, four hours and countless drinks later. you had lost track of everything—how many drinks each of you had, or even what they were. all you knew was that the alcohol coursing through your veins was making you want to dance. with a bit of persuasive coaxing, you managed to drag both Nick and Madison out onto the dance floor. you three let your bodies move to the beat of the music, laughing and squealing as random girls joined in on your carefree dance party.

caught up in the laughter and music, you had completely forgotten about notifying Chris of your plans to go clubbing. in fact, you weren’t even sure if you still had your phone, or if it was tucked away somewhere in the uber you used to get here.

feeling regret bubbling up in your gut, knowing that not letting Chris know about your plans to party was a mistake that’d bite you in the ass later but the alcohol coursing through your veins quickly did an excellent job at putting your worries at bay.

as you danced with complete abandon, Chris was positively seething. Matt couldn’t help but glance at his brother every so often, concern etched on his face. Chris was gritting his teeth, his hand gripping his phone so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.

Matt tried to keep a light atmosphere in the car, his voice strained as he attempted to crack a few jokes. however, knowing that his brother’s mood and behavior were all directed towards you, made the air in the car thick with tension.

Matt and Chris hopped out of the car and hurried to the front of the line, explaining to the bouncer that they didn't intend to stay in the club but just wanted to pick up Chris's girlfriend, his brother, and their friend. once granted entry, Chris instantly started searching the club for you, weaving through flashing lights, loud music, and drunken people bumping into him, each interaction adding to his growing irritation. he clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth began to ache.

Chris’s eyes were laser-focused as he walked around, scanning the sea of dancers in the hopes of spotting you. the mixture of frustration, worry, and anxiety only fueled his determination to find you as quickly as possible.

Chris and Matt forcefully pushed throught the crowd, making their way to where you and Madison were dancing. when Madison saw Chris approach, she stopped mid-sentence, quickly giving you a nudge to turn around. upon seeing Chris, your initial look of confusion morphed into a wide grin.

"CHRIS!!!!" you squealed with excitement, intoxicated and oblivious to his angry demeanor. you threw yourself into his arms, your body pressed against his.

Chris’s jaw ticked as he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist in an almost possessive manner. he felt relieved to have found you, but his anger was still present. he leaned down to speak into your ear so you could hear him over the music.

"come on." Chris muttered, his voice low and firm. he gently but firmly guided you and Madison toward the exit, his grip on your waist keeping you close to his side.

as Chris navigated you and Madison through the club, Matt trailed behind them, struggling to keep a stumbling Nick in tow. Matt firmly grabbed onto Nick's arm, tugging him along with them as they all exited the club.

the cold night air hit you, a sharp contrast to the warm and crowded environment of the club. Chris's grip on your waist didn't loosen as he led you to the waiting car where Matt had managed to steer Nick into the backseat.

Chris opened the back door of the car, his gaze locked onto yours as he helped you into the seat. you stumbled slightly in your intoxicated state, but he steered you into the middle, making room for Madison and Nick to sit on either side.

meanwhile, Matt was wrestling with a giggling Nick in the backseat, struggling to keep him still as he attempted to buckle his seatbelt.

once you were both settled in the middle, Chris shut the door behind you before making his way to the passenger seat in the front. Matt finally managed to secure a giggling Nick in place, and quickly rounded the car to get into the driver's seat himself.

the atmosphere in the car was tense, the silence punctuated only by the occasional burst of laughter from Nick. Chris sat in the passenger seat, his jaw still clenched and his eyes fixed on you through the rearview mirror. Matt started the car, ready to pull out and head home.

with your mind slightly clouded by alcohol, you feel a wave of clingy neediness wash over you. You’re not fully aware of Chris’s anger towards you, and all you want is to be close to him and receive attention. you lean forward, awkwardly wrapping your arms around his arm, snuggling up to him and nuzzling your face against his shoulder, ignoring the way your seatbelt was digging into your torso.

“pssst, Chris,” you whisper loudly into his ear, your breath warm against his skin.

you attempts to get his attention go ignored as Chris stubbornly remains silent. he continues staring straight ahead, ignoring your drunken behavior. you pout in disappointment as Chris continues to give you the cold shoulder, the silence in the car feeling like a dagger. you release your grip on his arm, but your hand continues to rest on his shoulder, drawing small circles.

Chris impatiently shrugs your hand off his shoulder, growing increasingly irritated by your behavior. this causes you to pout further, and you huff in response, leaning back in your seat and sulking.

as a result, you begin babbling to both Nick and Madison, all of you slurring your words due to the copious amounts of alcohol you've consumed.

the three of you talk over each other, laughing loudly and speaking in a mixture of exaggerated tones and drunken mumbles. Chris clenches his jaw tighter in frustration, the noise and your intoxication only worsening his already shitty mood.

Chris's irritation increases with every second that passes, the sound of your drunken laughter grating on the nerves. he glances at you through the rearview mirror every so often, watching as you chatter away to Nick and Madison, seemingly oblivious to his anger.

Matt is focused on the road ahead, occasionally sneaking glances at the three of you through the rearview mirror as he drives the car home. he can sense the tension emanating from Chris and feels the weight of the situation. however, he keeps his focus on getting all five of you back safely without any distractions.

the incessant chattering from the backseat finally pushes Chris over the edge, causing him to snap. he turns around in his seat, his eyes fixed on the three of you in the back.

"bruh can yall shut the fuck up," he snarls, his voice sharp and filled with annoyance. "you’re fuckin annoying me."

silence quickly fills the car as you all snap your mouths shut.

Madison remains calm, slightly surprised by Chris's outburst but choosing not to provoke him further. Nick's sassiness gets the better of him, and he throws a quick retort at Chris, which only serves to irritate him even more.

on the other hand, your sensitivity and intoxication has tears pricking at your eyes in response to Chris's harsh words. you pout and sniffle, hurt by his tone.

as tears stream down your drunken red cheeks, Chris's expression remains stoic, showing no sympathy for you. seeing your emotional reaction only adds fuel to his anger, as he views it as an attempt to manipulate his emotions. his jaw clenches once more, his eyes narrow, and he swiftly turns back around in his seat, staring straight ahead as if refusing to look at you any longer.

still completely ignorant to the anger aimed towards you, radiating off of him, you reach forward and tap Chris’s shoulder, wanting his attention. Chris immediately stiffens at your touch, his jaw muscle twitching with irritation. however, your obliviousness only fuels his frustration. he snaps his head around, his eyes flashing with anger as he glares at you, his voice harsh as he snarls out. "What?"

although you flinch slightly at the sharpness in his tone, you maintain your oblivious demeanor and try to muster up a pouty expression. despite the alcohol clouding your judgment, a small voice inside of you cautions you against pushing his buttons too far, but the liquid courage bubbling in your veins compels you to proceed regardless.

you reach forward and rest your hand on his upper arm, gently tracing your fingers along his bicep as you give him your best puppy dog eyes.

"c’mon, Chris," you murmur, your voice whiny and pleading. "why are you being so mean to me?"

your touch and plea for attention only succeed in infuriating him further. his muscles tense under your fingers, his eyes narrowing as he glares at your drunken, pouting face.

"mean to you? you’re the one who went out and got drunk without letting anyone know," he retorts, his voice laced with irritation. "you could have at least had the decency to send me a goddamn text."

sensing the rising tension between you and Chris, Matt quickly turns up the volume of the music, trying to drown out the conversation happening. the upbeat tune blasts through the speakers, drawing the attention of both Nick and Madison, who begin to bob their heads to the beat.

with the music cranked up, your conversation with Chris becomes less audible to the others, but they can still sense the thick atmosphere in the car. Nick and Madison exchange occasional glances, silently listening in while pretending to focus on the music.

you pout your lips in slight indignation, your alcohol-induced brain still not fully comprehending the situation. you look up at him with watery eyes and say, "well, i just wanted to have a good time with Madi and Nick. you’re so boring, never wanting to go out with us."

for a moment, Chris’s irritation morphs into disbelief, his eyebrows rising slightly at your audacity. He snorts sarcastically before retorting, "boring? you call me boring but then pull a stunt like this. real mature."

your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, struggling to form a coherent response to his comment. you’re too inebriated to realize that your actions tonight are anything but mature. the alcohol has rendered you emotionally vulnerable and childish, and your words start to sound more like a desperate plea rather than a valid argument.

"i just wanted to have fun," you repeat, your voice bordering on a whine. "why are you always so serious? i can take care of myself, y'know."

after your reply, Chris looks at you for a moment, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. He shakes his head, unable to believe the level of immaturity you're displaying.

as the rest of the car ride passes in relative silence, you, Nick, and Madison slowly start to drift off to sleep in the back seat, the alcohol and exhaustion from the night finally taking their toll.

Matt pulls the car into the driveway, the engine purring to a stop. Nick, roused by the car coming to a halt, wakes up with a disoriented groan. he clambers out of the backseat, his movements clumsy and disoriented as the alcohol still affects his motor skills.

Matt quickly gets out of the car and aids Madison in getting out, guiding her toward the house. meanwhile, Chris grudgingly exits the vehicle and assists you, his touch firm but not exactly gentle.

Chris wraps his hand around your upper arm, guiding and steadying you as you stumble out of the car. you’re still half-asleep but conscious enough to recognize his touch. however, even in your exhausted state, you instinctively lean into him, seeking his warmth and comfort, despite the tension between both of you.

Matt guides Madison and Nick to Nick's room as they mutter a slurred "goodnight" before disappearing behind the door. Chris turns his attention to you, his lips pressed into a thin line. he silently leads you into the bedroom, his demeanor remaining stoic and distant.

once inside, he silently helps you undress, carefully removing your clothes in a detached but efficient manner.

as Chris helps you undress, the alcohol in your system loosens your tongue, and you start to babble in a sleepy, slurred voice.

"missed you s’much today." you sigh, pouting slightly, your eyes half-lidded.

however, Chris remains largely unresponsive, his jaw clenched as he focuses on getting you into something comfortable to sleep in. ignored, your pout deepens, and you let out a small whine.

you continue to pout, frustration mounting within you at Chris's lack of response. you look up at him, your bottom lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. With an air of drunken petulance, you whine again.

"why won't you talk to me? i said i missed you."

once more, Chris continues to act as if he can't hear your whiney plea. he grabs a soft t-shirt from the dresser and gestures for you to lift your arms up so he can slip it over your head.

his expression remains stoic, giving no hint of whether he's actively ignoring you or simply too focused on getting you comfortable for bed.

after helping you into bed and adjusting the covers, Chris stands next to the bed and nods toward you, signaling that he's done. He then mutters, "gonna take a shower."

with that, he turns and walks to the bathroom, disappearing inside and shutting the door behind him.

the alcohol gradually takes effect, and your inhibitions start to slip. as you lie in bed, your mind begins to wander. the physical absence of Chris, combined with your intoxicated state, starts to awaken a more primal part of you.

a feeling of desire and neediness starts to bubble within you. you find yourself craving his touch, his voice, his presence. your thoughts start to turn down a more sultry and suggestive path.

your mind starts to paint vivid images as you think of Chris in the shower. you imagine the water cascading down his muscled body, the steam clinging to his skin, and the towel hanging around his hips.

the thought alone sends a wave of heat through your body, your pulse quickening at the mental image playing out in your mind. your cheeks flush as your imagination runs wild.

the vivid imagery and growing arousal only intensify as your drunken mind continues to wander. your hand slowly trails down your body, fingertips grazing over the swell of your breasts before dipping lower, teasing along the waistband of your panties.

you squirm against the sheets, aching for more contact. a soft moan escapes your lips as you picture Chris stepping out of the shower, droplets of water glistening on his torso. in your mind's eye, he catches you staring and smirks knowingly, letting the towel drop to the floor.

lost in the fantasy, your fingers slip beneath the fabric, seeking relief from the building heat between your thighs. you arch into your own touch, breath coming faster now as you lose yourself to the sensations and forbidden imaginings of your boyfriend.

with trembling fingers, you slide your panties down, exposing your slick folds to the cool air of the room. your breathing grows ragged as you delve two digits inside yourself, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot deep within. soft, drunken moans spill from your parted lips, echoing in the quiet of the night.

as you pleasure yourself, the distant sound of the shower stills, replaced by the creak of the bathroom door opening. water droplets from Chris' damp skin sparkle in the dim light as he pads silently towards the bed, his eyes locked onto the intimate scene unfolding before him.

your pulse races at being caught in such a compromising position, but instead of pulling away, you continue to touch yourself shamelessly, lost in the throes of desire.

Chris stands at the foot of the bed, the towel draped low around his hips, barely covering the prominent bulge straining against the fabric. His piercing gaze is fixed intently on the erotic display before him - your slender fingers dancing across your sensitive flesh, coaxing pleasure from your quivering core.

"please, Chris," you whimper, your voice thick with lust, "touch me... i need you..." but he remains motionless, simply observing your desperate pleas with an unreadable expression.

undeterred, you bring your other hand up to join the first, frantically rubbing your swollen clit in tight circles. your back arches off the mattress, a keening moan ripping from your throat as the tension builds. Chris' eyes never leave your face, drinking in every gasp, every shudder, every plea for release.

Chris sinks down beside you on the bed, his movements deliberate and controlled. he reaches out, his palm cool against your inner thigh, gently but firmly parting your legs wider apart. you tremble under his touch, a mix of nervousness and anticipation coursing through you.

without a word, he settles himself between your splayed legs, his face mere inches from your dripping cunt. the intoxicating scent of your arousal fills his nostrils as he leans in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your most intimate area. your fingers slow their frantic pace, almost ceasing movement altogether as you await his next action, heart pounding in your chest.

as Chris's face hovers tantalizingly close, you instinctively shift your hands, trying to draw him in, to capture his mouth against your aching clit. but he forestalls your advance, his strong grip closing around your hips, halting your movement.

"no, keep going," he commands harshly, his voice low and authoritative. his words send a thrill through you.

obediently, you resume stroking your clit, your fingers moving in time with the rapid beat of your heart. Chris watches intently, his dark eyes burning with an unspoken hunger as he drinks in the sight of you pleasuring yourself under his stern instruction. the contrast between his commanding demeanor and the vulnerability of your act only heightens the intensity of the moment.

despite your best efforts, the pressure builds to a crescendo, your climax hovering just out of reach. Frustrated and needy, you plead with Chris, "please, i need you..."

but he merely scoffs, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he mocks your words from earlier "you can take care of yourself ma."

your frustration mounts as you struggle to reach completion, your small hands inadequate to satisfy the intense ache pulsing through you. tears of desperation prick at the corners of your eyes as you writhe beneath Chris' watchful gaze.

"please…" you whimper, your voice raw with need. "i can't... i need you to make me come."

Chris' smirk only widens at your pitiful pleas, clearly enjoying the power he holds over you. "what's wrong, baby? can't handle taking care of yourself like a big girl?" he taunts, his tone dripping with condescension.

tears stream down your face as you shake your head frantically, too far gone to care about preserving any semblance of pride. the effects of the alcohol in your system slowly dissipating as your body grows hungrier for his touch. "no, please... m’sorry— need you so badly."

Chris' eyes narrow as he takes in your tear-streaked face, your desperate pleas hanging heavy in the air between you. for a long moment, he simply stares, his expression inscrutable. then, without warning, he surges forward, his mouth crashing against your dripping cunt in a brutal kiss.

a strangled cry tears from your throat at the sudden contact, your hips bucking involuntarily against his face. his tongue delves deep, lapping at your essence greedily as he feasts upon you. the stubble of his chin scrapes deliciously against your sensitive flesh, adding a new dimension to the overwhelming sensations consuming you.

your hands fly to his hair, tangling in the damp strands as you hold him in place, afraid he might pull away.

Chris devours you with a ferocity that borders on punishing, his tongue lashing against your sensitive nub with ruthless precision. each flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

your fingers tighten their grip on his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you grind yourself shamelessly against his face. broken moans and incoherent pleas tumble from your lips, lost in the haze of ecstasy that threatens to consume you whole.

just as you teeter on the brink of oblivion, Chris pulls away abruptly, leaving you bereft and wanting. you whine in protest, your hips jerking upwards in a futile attempt to recapture his touch. he chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your swollen clit.

"not yet, ma,"

Chris continues his relentless assault, his tongue delving deeper into your heated core. every lick, every swirl brings you closer to the precipice, each wave of pleasure building upon the last until you're left gasping and writhing beneath him.

his fingers find your swollen clit, pinning it against his thumb as he begins to circle the sensitive nub mercilessly. a choked sob escapes your lips as the dual assault of his mouth and hand pushes you further than you've ever been before.

your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure ripple through your core. your cries echo throughout the room as you ride out the aftershocks, completely spent and utterly satisfied.

before you can even catch your breath, Chris is on you again, his mouth descending upon your sensitive flesh once more. the sensation is almost too much to bear, your oversensitive skin crying out in protest even as your body betrays you, craving more.

he laps at your essence hungrily, his tongue delving deep into your fluttering walls as if seeking to claim every last drop. your hands fist in the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you clench the fabric, anchoring yourself against the overwhelming tide of sensation.

Chris' fingers join the fray, two digits plunging into your slick heat as he curls them just right, hitting that sweet spot within you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. your hips buck wildly, meeting his thrusts with abandon as you chase another peak, another shattering release.

lost in a haze of pleasure, you find yourself unable to form coherent words. all that escapes your lips are broken moans and garbled pleas, your mind too focused on the exquisite sensations radiating from your core to string together a proper sentence.

as Chris works you towards another earth-shattering orgasm, your body arches off the bed, your back bowing as you surrender yourself fully to the overwhelming ecstasy. your thighs quiver, your muscles tensing as the coil within you winds tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

with a final, brutal thrust of his fingers and a hard suckle of your clit, Chris sends you hurtling over the edge once more. your vision whites out, your world narrowing down to the singular point where his mouth meets your cunt as you come undone beneath him, screaming his name like a prayer.

as the last tremors of your orgasm fade, Chris suddenly sits up. before you can voice your disappointment, his palm connects sharply with your sensitive mound, sending a jolt of painful pleasure racing up your spine.

the unexpected sting has you gasping, your eyes flying open wide as you stare up at Chris in shock. He grins wickedly down at you, clearly relishing the effect his actions have had on you. by this point your absolutely positive any trace of alcohol in your system has been completely fucked out.

without warning, he shifts your limp, satiated body effortlessly, maneuvering you onto his lap as he leans back against the headboard. His throbbing cock presses insistently against your thigh through the towel, a reminder of his own pent-up desire.

Chris settles you comfortably in his lap, his strong arms encircling your waist as he holds you close. you can feel the heat of his skin seeping into yours, his heart beating a steady rhythm beneath your cheek. for a moment, you allow yourself to relax into his embrace, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

then, slowly, teasingly, Chris begins to rock his hips, grinding his still-clothed erection against your sensitive folds. the friction sends sparks of pleasure dancing along your nerve endings, reigniting the fire within you despite your exhaustion.

his hands roam your body possessively, mapping every curve and hollow as if committing you to memory. he lifts your shirt up slightly and dips his head, capturing one pert nipple between his teeth and tugging gently, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"look at you," he mocks, his tone dripping with desire and sarcasm.

Chris chuckles low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your chest as he continues to toy with your nipples, alternating between gentle tugs and soft bites.

“acting like such a big girl, blowing me off all day without so much as a text. and now, here you are, practically begging for my attention."

his words should offend you, but instead, they only serve to stoke the flames of your neediness. you squirm in his lap, your hips rolling instinctively against his clothed arousal as you seek relief from the ache building within you.

"you're such a needy little thing, aren't you?" Chris taunts.

your cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and arousal at Chris' mocking words. despite the teasing, you can't deny the truth in his statement - you did blow him off today, and now you're practically climbing his body in an attempt to satisfy the gnawing hunger within you.

"i...i forgot..." you start to defend yourself, but the words trail off as Chris' fingers find your sensitive clit, circling the swollen bud with maddening slowness. a whimper escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily into his touch.

"you..you forgot what, ma?" Chris prompts, his voice a low purr as he mocks your stuttering.

"i-i was just hanging out with Nick and Madison," you stammer, trying to focus on the conversation despite the intense stimulation Chris is providing. "we got caught up talking and lost track of time. i didn't mean to ignore you!"

Chris listens patiently, his expression unreadable as he allows you to explain yourself. but then, with a sudden movement, he tugs the towel loose from under him, letting it fall away to reveal his fully erect cock standing proudly at attention.

the sight takes your breath away, and for a moment, you forget all about your excuses, your gaze fixated on the thick length of him. Chris smirks knowingly, his free hand stroking himself lazily as he waits for you to continue.

you lean in, your intention clear as you reach for Chris' impressive erection. but before your fingers can make contact, his hand shoots out, slapping yours away with a firm "nuh uh."

he punctuates the denial with a mocking kiss of his teeth, a frown falls onto your face.

Chris' grip tightens around your wrist, holding your hand captive in his lap as he looks at you with a mixture of amusement and sternness.

Chris releases your wrist only to grasp your chin firmly, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. "listen up, because i’m only going to say this once," he says, his voice low and authoritative. "tonight, you put me in a world of shit, worrying about where you were and if you were okay. whole damn time you were just out there living it up, completely unaware of the stress you caused me."

he pauses, studying your reaction before continuing. "let me make one thing crystal clear: i’m in charge here, ma. when you neglect to check in or consider someone else's feelings, you end up in trouble. and right now? you're in a whole lot of it."

Chris' thumb brushes across your lower lip, his touch both soothing and threatening. "so here's what's going to happen."

Chris leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers his demands. "first, you're going to apologize properly for putting me through hell tonight. then, you're going to show me just how sorry you really are."

with those words, Chris claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving deep to stake its claim. his hands roam your body possessively, squeezing and kneading every inch of exposed skin until you're writhing in his lap, desperate for more.

Chris breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he looks down at you with a mix of lust and control. "apologize," he commands, his voice rough with desire.

you swallow hard, your mind racing to process the intensity of the situation. but with Chris' piercing gaze boring into you, you know there's no room for hesitation. "i’m sorry," you begin, your voice trembling slightly. “m’really, really sorry for worrying you and not checking in. it thoughtless and selfish of me..."

as you continue apologizing, Chris starts to stroke himself again, his movements slow and deliberate. each word from your lips seems to spur him on, his cock twitching in anticipation.

your apologies tumble from your lips, tears begin to stream down your face, guilt overwhelming you. Chris watches impassively, his eyes cold as he listens to your words. suddenly, he cuts you off mid-sentence, feigning sympathy as he pulls you into a brief, patronizing hug.

"oh, poor baby," he coos mockingly. "you feel so bad, don't you sweet girl? gonna make it up me, hm?"

before you can respond, Chris grabs your hips roughly and positions you over his throbbing cock. With no warning whatsoever, he slams you down onto him, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. the sudden intrusion steals the air from your lungs, pain and pleasure mingling in a dizzying rush.

your fingers dig into Chris' shoulders as he buries himself inside you, the sensation overwhelming. "wait!" you gasp, trying to halt his movements. "t—..too much…"

“ ‘too much’ too fucking bad, i don’t care. take it.” he mocks you as his hands grip your hips tightly as he grinds you down onto him. the pain is almost unbearable, but mixed with the pleasure, it feels incredibly good. you try to push back against him, but his hold is unyielding, leaving you trapped beneath his powerful frame.

Chris holds you steady, his pace relentless as he pounds into you with increasing force. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by your muffled cries and his guttural groans.

despite your initial protests, your body begins to adapt, craving the intense friction and fullness Chris provides. you arch your back, meeting each thrust with a desperate grind of your own, the pleasure building rapidly within you.

"fuck, look at you," Chris growls, his eyes dark with lust as he watches you take him. "love seeing you get used to my cock, y/n.”

your body betrays you, responding to Chris' dominant thrusts with a growing need for more. the pain has transformed into a sharp, delicious ache, fueling the rising heat between your thighs.

"please..." you whimper, as your hips move instinctively to meet his, seeking that perfect angle for maximum pleasure. tears still streak your face, but they're tinged with a strange, exhilarating mix of shame and arousal.

"that’s it, baby," he encourages, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "take it just— fuck…just like that…your pussy was fucking made f’me”

chris continues to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm unrelenting. each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, the pressure building relentlessly within you.

your walls clench around him involuntarily, your body betraying your resistance. despite your earlier pleas, you find yourself pushing back against him eagerly now, desperate for release.

"fuck yeah," Chris groans in approval, feeling your tight walls quiver and spasm around his cock. "fucking love seeing you squirm on my dick.”

Chris' grip on your hips tightens to the point of pain as he increases his tempo, each thrust driving deeper and harder than before. his breath comes in harsh pants, his face twisted in a mask of raw, animalistic lust.

"you wanted this, didn't you?" he snarls, his voice dripping with cruel mockery. "wanted me to fuck you senseless, make you cum all over my cock?"

his words cut through the haze of pleasure, striking a nerve even as your body continues to respond eagerly to his brutal assault. a part of you recoils at the degrading language, but another part, darker and more primal, craves the domination, the complete loss of control.

Chris leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "this is what happens when you forget your place, ma. when you think you can run wild and free, without considering the consequences."

he punctuates his words with a particularly vicious thrust, grinding his pelvis against yours. the movement sends shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core, drawing a choked moan from your throat.

"that's right, let me hear you," Chris taunts, his voice a sinful purr. "moan for me, baby. let everyone know who owns this pussy."

Chris doesn't bother to quiet his increasingly loud grunts and groans, fully aware that anyone nearby could likely hear the lewd sounds of his dominance.

"fuck, you're so goddamn tight," he growls, his hips snapping against yours with ruthless precision. "gonna ruin this cunt for anyone else, make sure you never forget who you belong to."

the sheer audacity of his declaration, coupled with the brutal intensity of his thrusts, leaves you breathless and utterly at his mercy. even with the humiliation of being so thoroughly claimed, you can't deny the intoxicating thrill that courses through you, the knowledge that you've been marked, owned, in the most primal way possible.

your voice barely audible over the obscene slap of flesh against flesh. "please, Chris...i can't...it's too much..."

but even as the words leave your lips, your body continues to respond to his relentless pounding, your inner walls fluttering and clenching around his invading length. the conflicting sensations of pain and pleasure swirl together, threatening to consume you entirely.

Chris seems to relish your struggles, his pace never faltering as he drives home his point, his dominance over you absolute. "too much?" he scoffs, his breath hot against your neck. "you wanted this, ma. now you're gonna take it."

without warning, Chris yanks you off his cock and spins you around, forcing you to drop to your hands and knees on the bed. he yanks your hips back, your ass raised high and inviting.

"fucking perfect," he murmurs, running a hand over the curve of your rear possessively. then, with a swift, brutal thrust, he sheathes himself back inside you, stretching you open once more.

Chris sets a punishing rhythm, his hips slapping against your ass as he takes you from behind. the new angle allows him to hit even deeper, the head of his cock battering relentlessly at your cervix with each powerful stroke.

"look at that ass bounce," he pants, his grip on your hips tightening. "so beautiful, taking my cock like a good little slut."

Chris brings his palm down hard on the rounded globe of your ass, the crack of the impact ringing out in the room. a bright red handprint blooms instantly on your tender flesh, marking you as his property.

the sudden sting sends a jolt straight to your core, triggering an intense orgasm that crashes through you without warning. your vision whites out, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of ecstasy consumes you.

but Chris shows no mercy, continuing to pound into you even as you convulse around him, milking his cock with rhythmic spasms. the added stimulation only seems to spur him on, his strokes becoming faster, harder, more frenzied.

"that’s it, cum on my cock like a good little whore," he growls, one hand fisting in your hair as he yanks your head back. "fucking take it."

as the aftershocks of your third orgasm subside, you collapse further into the bed, your mind reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Chris continues to rut into you with abandon, his movements erratic and driven by his own impending release.

"ahh, f-fuck...so g-good," you stutter, your words tumbling out in a breathless, incoherent stream. "c-can't...can't believe how much...oh god, Chris!"

your body, still sensitive from the brutal fucking, responds to every twitch and throb of his cock inside you. the sensation is almost too much to bear, your nerves stretched taut and singing with pleasure.

Chris grunts, his pace faltering as he nears his peak. "gonna...fuck, gonna fill this pussy up," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips.

with a final, guttural groan, Chris pulls out of you abruptly, leaving you empty and aching. he flips you over onto your back, looming above you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"not done with you yet, ma," he says, his voice low and menacing.

before you can react, he's crawling up your body, his mouth finding yours in a searing kiss. his tongue invades your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as his hands roam over your breasts and stomach.

when he finally breaks the kiss, you're left panting and dazed, your body thrumming with need. Chris smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the power he holds over you.

Chris grips your thighs, spreading them wide as he positions himself between them. his eyes lock onto yours, dark with lust and possession.

"wanna see your pretty face," he growls, his voice thick with desire.

with that, he surges forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body tensing around him.

Chris starts to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm. each stroke is deep and purposeful, designed to stretch and claim you completely.

as he picks up speed, his gaze remains fixed on your face, drinking in every expression of pleasure and submission. the intensity of his stare only heightens your arousal, making you feel exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

Chris' thrusts become more urgent, his breathing growing ragged as he chases his release. his hands slide under your thighs, lifting and spreading your legs wider, opening you up completely to his possession.

"you’re mine, y/n," he pants, his voice strained with exertion. "this pussy belongs to me, understand? no one else gets to touch you like this."

his words, combined with the relentless pounding of his cock, push you closer to the edge once more. your body trembles beneath him, teetering on the brink of another shattering climax.

"beg for it," Chris demands, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. "beg me to fill you up, i know you want it."

"p-please, Chris!" you whimper, your voice breaking on a sob. "n-need…need your cum…”

your desperate plea seems to unleash something primal within him. Chris lets out a feral growl, his thrusts becoming savage and unrelenting as he drives towards his climax.

"yes, fuck yes," he snarls, his eyes blazing with raw hunger. "take it all, ma. i know you can do it"

with a final, brutal plunge, Chris buries himself to the hilt inside you. his cock throbs and pulses as he erupts, flooding your depths with his scorching hot release. wave after wave of his essence pumps into you, marking you irrevocably as his.

as Chris' orgasm subsides, he collapses on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. you can feel his heart thundering against your chest, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he tries to catch his breath.

after a long moment, he lifts his head, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and possession. "i love you," his voice is soft with a low rumble.

he rolls off you, pulling you into his arms as he settles back against the pillows. despite the exhaustion that threatens to claim you, you find yourself curling into his side, seeking the warmth and security of his embrace.

Chris runs his fingers through your hair, gently brushing the sweat-dampened strands away from your face. there’s a hint of tenderness in his touch, a stark contrast to the rough passion of moments before.

"we’re going to talk about this in the morning kid," he says softly, his tone firm but not unkind. "about you blowing me off, gotta to set some things straight, ma."

despite the gravity of his words, there's no real anger in his voice. instead, there's a sense of determination, a quiet insistence that he won't let this happen again.

for now, though, he simply holds you close, allowing you both to bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. tomorrow will bring its own challenges, but for tonight, you're content to lose yourself in the comfort of his embrace.

you nod sleepily, already feeling the heaviness of exhaustion pulling you under. Chris tucks you in tighter, his arm a solid barrier across your waist.

" get some rest," he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "sweet dreams my sweet girl"

as his warm breath washes over your skin, you let out a contented sigh, your eyelids drifting shut. the steady beat of Chris' heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep, unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon.

AUTHORS NOTE: whoever this cutesy lil anon is, i apologize i literally thought i posted this last night LOLL. i hope this fits ur stands, if not lmk and i’ll write another immediately :,))

TAG LIST: @freshloveee @floralsturniolo @joces-wrld @chrissturnioloslittleslut @sophand4n4 @iloveragdollcats @sophsturns @sturniyolo69 @watercolorskyy

disclaimer: asking to be added to my tag list is completely okay, just know you’ll be tagged in ALL posts. if you aren’t okay with that and want to be removed just lmk :)

[fyeahcompetentwomen]

Hey, love the competent women polls you've got going on. I just wanted to let you know, in Elimination Group Round 4, you spelt Laura Roslin's (Battlestar Galactica) surname wrong. It's an i not a y :)

Thank you! I've tried to correct any typos I found, but this one didn't even ping - so I'm very appreciative of this correction! I'll put it right from now on!

[gothcsz]

West Side | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 5 of Unscripted Desire | ~15k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: A lot of firsts with Javi.

Tags: smut, slight angst, nipple play, dry humping, lots of making out, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, jealousy, edging, overstimulation, use of sex toys (vibrator), oral (f receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (finally), javi is clipped (not mentioned), babe wake up pornstar!javi lore just dropped, no use of y/n, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

A/N: i attempted to make this chapter a little longer, definitely filthier, and above all: satisfying. shoutout to my bestie hermosa @persephone-girl for reading over part of this and quelling all the second thoughts i had in the middle of writing it out 🖤 love you guys, enjoyyyy ✨

You purse your lips at your reflection, tilting your head as if a new angle will make everything click. The phone is wedged between your shoulder and ear, and Connie’s voice crackles over the line, keeping you company. 

“Since when do you care so much about getting dolled up?” she teases, picking up on the way you’re fussing.

You tug the hem of the dress down a bit, “That’s not even the issue here,” you counter, a little more defensively than you meant. “It’s just… what do you even wear on a date with someone like Javier?”

Connie lets out a sly laugh. “Well, if I knew more about him, maybe I’d be able to help you out here.”

You huff, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it, leaning closer to the mirror as you swipe at the mascara wand. “You’re still on that?”

“It’s not every day that my friend leaves with a man like that at the end of her shift, only to find out he’s some annoyingly hot coworker she didn’t even bother mentioning—”

“There was nothing to mention,” you cut in quickly.

“Nothing to mention?” she repeats, scandalized. “He ate you out in an elevator, you talked an orgasm out of him, and you let him slip the tip of his dick inside—”

“Okay!” You cut her off again, voice a bit higher than intended. “Shouldn’t you be out saving lives or something?”

“Currently on day two, hour nine, of my three-twelves.” Her sigh fills your ear. “I’m exhausted. Let me live through your smokin’ sex life so I don’t tear my hair out.”

“Steve not doing it for you anymore?” you tease, rubbing away a bit of lipstick that smudged onto your teeth.

“Oh, he is, but after three overnight shifts? Even the thought of sex is exhausting,” she admits, a laugh edging her words. 

You get it; distinctively thinking about the last spring break week where you worked non-stop, running from shoots all day to the bar all night on three hours of sleep.

That was definitely the week you aged five years in one go.

“Now, back to you,” she snaps you out of your memories. “What did you finally decide on?”

“The black dress.” You say it like it’s the only logical choice.

She groans, dragging it out for dramatic effect. “No. You wear that thing out all the time.”

“I bought it for a reason. To wear it.”

“Oh, come on. I think you should switch it up a little. Make it more fun.”

“Fun?” you echo, skeptical, glancing over at your closet.

“Fun,” she confirms, “like that mini skirt with the flowy fabric. Makes your ass look so good and shows just enough cheek to leave him hanging,” she says all playfully, “Just throw on a top that shows the girls off and you’ll be set. It’s flirty and hot… exactly like your little boy toy and way fresher than a black dress.”

You snort, feeling a little flutter at the mention of Javier being your boy toy. “A classic date-night outfit is classic for a reason, you know?”

“Mhmm, so classic I’m falling asleep. Go grab the skirt and thank me later,” she presses.

You grumble out a fine, deciding to humor her. Maybe you will like it better than the dress.

Rummaging through your closet is a little difficult with the corded phone in your hand but you manage, finally spotting the garment under the mountain of clothes that you’ve just thrown in here and pretended weren’t your problem.

“Where’s he taking you, anyways?”

“No idea, which makes the getting ready process even more difficult. I’m putting you down,” you warn her, setting down the receiver on your dresser.

You toss aside a few ‘not quite’ options before finding a top cute enough for this flirty and hot vision she’s painting. The deep color of it has your skin glowing, the cut of the neckline making your tits look enticing.

The snug skirt teases just enough at your thighs and you do a half turn, glancing back at the mirror to check your own ass out—and damn if she wasn’t on the money.

“Okay, I’m back.”

“And?”

You pause, smiling as you take in your reflection. “I look hot.”

There’s a sharp, delighted squeal on her end. “See? I told you! That’s what friends are for—giving you advice you don’t listen to until you’re basically forced to.”

Her laugh makes you grin, but then you hear a muffle as she talks to someone else in the background. She comes back, tone rushed but still playful. “Alright, I’m being called back onto the floor. But seriously, have fun. Don’t put out unless you want to, and please, please, don’t wait months to fill me in, okay?”

“I won’t,” you chuckle, her instructions making you feel like you’re back in high school. “Thanks, Con.”

“Go get him, you vixen,” she teases, and the line goes dead, leaving you with your thoughts.

You’ve been doing everything possible not to spiral into overthinking, trying to act normal about this date. Part of you still can’t believe it’s actually happening.

You’ve fought him, resisted him, silently judged others for falling for his charms—yet somehow still managed to give in.

If someone had told you months ago that you’d be in this position, you would’ve straight up laughed in their face.

The whole trajectory of it feels warped. You can’t help but wonder if this is all some elaborate game, a long con to get you in his bed.

But then, the doubts don’t quite hold up, not with how much effort he’s put into just getting your attention. If it were about sex, he wouldn’t need all this—he could walk outside, flash that lazy, dimpled grin, and probably have someone falling for him within seconds.

Hell, he could call one of his co-stars and make it that much easier on himself.

Yet, he keeps choosing you, showing up with this sincerity that’s completely messed with your head, confessing feelings and sticking around like he’s actually serious. He’s taken over your mind, lingering there like a sexy, infuriating ghost.

At least you’ve given yourself an ultimatum: if this goes south, you’ll walk away and he’ll leave you alone.

You still remember how low you felt after things with Frankie, and that was amicably ended. 

With Javier, it would sting worse if he turned out to be the arrogant womanizer you’d pegged him as after all the shit that’s transpired between the two of you.

You finish getting ready and head into the kitchenette, grabbing a shot glass. You pour yourself a quick splash of Fireball, hoping it’ll help you feel a little more mellow, maybe a little less wound-up. You toss it back, letting the burn calm the nerves that won’t stop buzzing as the minutes drag by.

Then, you hear the familiar creak of the stairs, the soft shuffle of footsteps, followed by a knock at the door. Your heart skips a beat.

With a deep breath, you slip on a light jacket and grab your purse before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

The sight that greets you could knock the air right from your lungs.

His typical black leather jacket stretches across his broad shoulders, a flushed blue shirt underneath, his neck on full display while the top of his chest teases you beneath the few undone buttons.

His jeans fit him perfectly, hugging his narrow waist and leading down to a pair of well-worn leather boots. But what really catches your attention is the single peony he holds delicately in his hand.

“Hey,” you greet, trying to keep it casual, as if your heart isn’t pounding just from seeing him stand there. He is so damn handsome, it almost feels unfair.

His gaze roams over you, like he doesn’t know where to look, definitely lingering on your legs then your cleavage before his warm, brown eyes meet yours. “You look good, nena.” He leaves you feeling like he’s undressing you with just that look.

You bite back a smile and raise an eyebrow, opting to tease him. “Thanks, Javi. You look… exactly how you always do.”

He chuckles, a lazy smile spreading across his face, and you catch a little dimple on his cheek. “Damn. And here I thought I put in more effort tonight.” He licks his lips, then holds out the flower. “This is for you. I might’ve mentioned our night out to my neighbor, and she clipped this from her garden. Thought it was less on the nose than a red rose.”

You take it from him, its soft petals brushing against your fingers, and bring it to your nose. The sweet, fresh scent makes you sigh a little.

He’s doing the bare minimum, bringing you a fucking flower, and you’re already feeling all warm and mushy. You’ll just blame the one shot of whisky for that. “Talking me up already?”

He chuckles, his eyes appreciating the way your makeup highlights each feature.

“Let’s just say I bum cigarettes off her in exchange for a little company. You just happened to come up.”

“Well now I have to know what you said.”

“Maybe one day.”

This moment already feels charged for no reason.

“I’m going to hold you to that” you warn him playfully. “Thank her for me. And tell her she’s got good taste in flowers.”

He gives you a nod, eyes softening. “I will. You ready?”

“Mhm,” you hum, stepping out to lock the door behind you.

As you turn, you realize how close he’s standing, and the scent of mint and cologne hits you in an instant, making your head spin. He smells fucking incredible.

“So,” you start, trying to ignore the fact that you can practically feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Where are we going?”

He falls into step beside you as you both head down the stairs. “To the best food truck in the city.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, both amused and a little charmed by the casual choice.

He nods, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s by Lake Hollywood Park, which is convenient ‘cause we’ll end our night around there.”

It seems like he has an actual plan for this date, which surprises you, but then again he’s been full of fucking surprises since the moment you met him. “Sounds like fun. Better not be shit though,” you say, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder, twirling the flower between your fingers.

“I think I’ve lived in L.A. long enough now to know what’s good and what isn’t.”

So he’s not native to this city, which was kind of obvious with the slight twang some of his words seem to have. You wonder where he’s actually from.

As you reach the sidewalk, Javier surprises you by sliding his hand into yours, smooth and confident. The gesture catches you off guard, and you can feel heat pooling at your cheeks. He’s annoyingly charming, and he knows it.

His hand is so much bigger than yours, rough skin brushing against your softer palm in a way that feels—well, it feels like it fits.

Your mind doesn’t miss a beat, leaping straight to the memory of his fingers pressed inside you, knuckle deep, his tongue flicking at your clit as you unraveled for him.

You bite the inside of your lip, willing yourself to stay cool, but damn, those hands could do a lot of things.

How you even fit two of his fingers remains a mystery, but it’s one you’re more than willing to solve again.

“This okay?” he asks, glancing down with a glint of mischief in his eyes, catching you right in the middle of your little lustful trance.

“Perfectly fine,” you reply, squeezing his hand, that glint pulling you in deeper, and you let it.

“Okay, I think I have a little more faith in your spot now that we’re here.” You settle across from Javier at the picnic table you managed to snag nearby, eyeing the food as he sets it out between you.

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “You doubted me?”

“Just a little.” You pinch your thumb and finger together with a playful grin, scrunching your nose as you laugh. His lopsided smile makes an appearance, sending your heart into a flutter.

“Then I’ll let the food do the talking. Let that be my ‘I told you so.’”

“Oh, please, I don’t need to hear that twice in one day.”

As you stick your straw into your cup of hibiscus agua fresca, the sweet flavor hits you instantly, and you let out a delighted little hum without even thinking.

His gaze snaps to you, amusement lighting up his eyes. “Someone’s already beaten me to it?”

“Connie,” you confess, dragging your tray of tacos closer and inhaling the smell that makes your stomach practically growl. “She helped me pick this outfit, you know, since someone here was pretty vague on the details.” 

He chuckles, reaching for the salsa verde and giving his tacos a generous drizzle before handing the bottle over. “I told you we’d be outside. I thought that’d be enough.” 

You take it from him, fingers brushing together, and damn if your skin doesn’t actually tingle. “Honestly, I was expecting more of a steakhouse vibe.”

He gives a soft scoff, looking amused. “That’s not really my style. I’d feel like a total fraud…” he pauses, studying your expression, “unless that’s what you wanted. I could do it if that’s what you’re into.”

Your tongue darts over your lower lip as you take in his thoughtfulness. “Nah. This is...perfect, actually.”

A light sparks in his eyes at your word choice. “Perfect, huh?”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Uh huh, don’t get a big head over it.”

“So, I owe Connie for getting you in that skirt?” His voice is smooth, that teasing lilt unmistakable.

Heat climbs up your neck, pooling at your cheeks. “You like it?”

His eyes narrow slightly, that look dark and appreciative. “I think it’s sexy as hell, yeah. But in an effort to be more...gentlemanly—Te ves hermosa. Like always.”

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him laying it on thick, but right now? You don’t mind it at all.

The attention feels genuine, his words dipping straight between your legs rather than floating on his usual bravado.

“Sweet talk me all you want,” you say, trying to rein yourself in, “but the real test of this date’s success? It all lies in this meal.”

He chuckles, and you’re grateful for the little shift, picking up a taco and clinking it with his, like a toast. The first bite is practically life-changing—the smoky, spicy flavors somehow better than you’d even anticipated.

“Oh wow,” you say, chewing slowly with a hand hovering over your mouth. “Not bad, Peña. This is actually delicious.”

His grin is smug, triumphant, and as he takes another bite, you’re momentarily distracted by the way his jaw flexes, muscles taut as he chews. And damn, if you don’t notice every bit of him in that damn leather jacket, his dark hair slightly tousled and looking as if he were some walking sex deity. 

You mentally curse yourself for already feeling way too into him. 

You chat lightly, going over the usual first-date questions. Somehow, even the simple stuff feels easy and natural with him—there’s something in the way he responds that keeps you drawn in, even if the questions themselves aren’t all that thrilling.

What’s your favorite color? When’s your birthday? Where are you from?

“Texas. And you?” he answers, swiping the napkin over his lips before balling it up, tossing it into his now empty tray.

So he’s a southern boy. That detail definitely adds to his charm. You tell him the name of your hometown, and then, after a beat, add, “Bit far from home, huh? Got family here?”

He shakes his head, reaching into his jacket for a pack of gum. He pulls out two pieces, offering you one.

Okay, another bare minimum act that’s got you all fucking blushy.

“Nah,” he says, chewing his own piece of gum. “It’s just me out here.”

“Your family must be thrilled about what you do…wait, do they know?” you ask, unwrapping the stick and glancing at him.

He sighs, scratching at his jaw. “My pops knows. My mom…” He pauses, a shadow of something crosses his face. “She passed when I was in high school.”

Your heart squeezes, a flicker of guilt making you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts gently, waving it off casually. “It gets tiring hearing it. But yeah, my pops and the rest of them…they don’t exactly jump for joy when it comes to my job. Guess it’s a good thing I stopped giving a fuck about what they think.”

The reality of it sinks in as you watch him across the table, his eyes distant for a moment. You’d never really thought about how it all might affect him (or any of the other stars, honestly) outside of sets and studios.

The world sees sex work as some kind of sordid choice, casting assumptions.

Sure, it’s got its problematic aspects just like any other industry, but with the puritan culture that’s plagued society since the beginning of time, really, it’s seen as such a devious thing when in reality; it could be something so beautiful. A celebration of the human body, of the unity between two people.

Whether you’re a woman or a man—you bear the weight of every stereotype, every judgment, and, especially, the stigma that comes with it.

You hesitate, but your curiosity gets the best of you. “Are you close with them?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he absently smooths his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, eyes thoughtful. “Yes and no.”

Something in his tone tells you this isn’t a thread to pull on right now. So, you pivot the conversation, deciding to leave that part of him for another night.

You glance at your tray, grinning. “This might actually be the best meal I’ve had in a long time. And I’m not bullshitting you.”

His eyes light up, that charming, lazy smile sliding back into place. “I’ll refrain from saying I told you so.”

You laugh, throwing a crumpled napkin at him, which he catches without missing a beat.

He leans in, his voice low. “So, now that I’ve won your approval in the food department, I’ve gotta finish on a strong note so I don’t mess it all up, right?”

You feel your pulse quicken “Sure do. Got anything up your sleeve, or is this where the gentlemanly plan ends?”

“I’ve got plans.” His voice dips, his eyes tracing over you, wetting his lips and that thudding begins to thrum faintly between your thighs. “Thought we’d take a walk, keep getting to know each other…” The suggestive way in which he’s speaking definitely gives his words a double meaning, “Then head to my favorite lookout spot. Best view in the city, hands down.Whatever happens to feel right can unfold after that.”

“Sounds like you’re anticipating something unfolding.”

“Can you blame me? You’re walkin’ around lookin’ good enough to eat.”

You feel a thrill dancing up your spine at his bluntness, “Boundaries still stand, Javi. I’m not sleeping with you.”

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound that sends your stomach into a twist. “That’s fine. I think I’ve shown we can have plenty of fun without crossing that line.”

Every electrifying sexual encounter hits you all at once, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, he’s right. 

No one has ever gotten under your skin or tangled your senses like he does. With Javier, the tension builds until it’s all-consuming—whether it’s the way his hands map every inch of your skin or his mouth works you over. It’s maddening, how easily he pulls you apart and leaves you craving more.

“And If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the one begging for more.”

A hot flash sweeps through you. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

He grins, not missing a beat. “Admit it, you like it.”

And as you share an amused glance, you can’t help but think… yeah, maybe you do.

The two of you walk side by side under the soft glow of the street lights lining the park. He flicks open his lighter, cigarette wedged between his lips, and you watch the quick flame as it lights up his face for a second before fading out.

You would usually mind the smoke, but somehow, with him, it’s just… fitting. A small indulgence that somehow suits his edges.

“Favorite music genre?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

“Would it be a cop-out to say a little bit of everything?”

“Oh absolutely.”

Javier pauses, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Alright, alright. Probably rap. Used to be all about rock—my pops had me hooked young. But out here? My taste has gotten a little West Coast.”

“A Texan boy gone Cali,” you say, feigning surprise. “You love to see it.”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling as he glances at you, then flips the question back. “What about you?”

“R&B. Lauryn Hill and Destiny’s Child have provided the soundtracks to some very pivotal moments in my life.”

He nods, and for a while, the conversation flows smoothly from one topic to another—favorite childhood memories, the dumb stuff you did as teenagers, and random things you never imagined you’d share with him.

Javi raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I bet you were a teacher’s pet.”

“Teacher’s pet? No way. I was a bit of a know-it-all, but I had this rebellious streak,” you admit, “Got in trouble more than once for talking back. I just couldn’t help it.”

“Figures. You’ve got that fire.” 

Eventually, he flicks his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out before looking at you with a curious glint in his eye. “I gotta ask you something,” he says, his voice dipping just a bit. “And be honest. Why didn’t you like me?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked you this, but now that you’re seeing him in a different light, the answer comes easily, less defensive. “Okay,” you start, meeting his gaze. “I wasn’t a fan of how you... got around. And the way you’d micromanage every move during shoots, like your way was always best. Or how you’d just use your dick to get whatever you wanted.”

His silence stretches, and he takes out another piece of gum, nodding slowly as he listens. “And when we met, you were already trying to charm your way into my pants like I was one of your groupies,” you add, “Made it feel like you were always angling for something. I guess I just didn’t want to be another name on your list.”

He exhales, scratching at his jaw. “Fair enough,” he declares. “I didn’t always used to be like this. The whole showboating thing, it’s sort of… a front, I guess. When I started, I had to become a different version of myself. This cocky asshole who had his shit together because… fuck, I didn’t know what else to do. After the bullshit back home, I needed the distance. I needed to prove something.”

There’s something in his tone that pulls at you, but you don’t press. You’re surprised he’s even sharing this much.

“The women, the confidence—all of it. Figured that’s who I had to be to make it. And it worked up until you left… when I realized just how fucked things had gotten for me. After walkin’ out on Robbie, I’ve been trying to be more careful with the jobs I take but fuck, it’s hard.”

This man—this smooth, confident guy you thought you had all figured out—carries more than his rugged allure and that killer smile.

Sympathy blossoms, the kind that grows for someone who’s managed to build walls without even meaning to.

The details remain unsaid, and though curiosity simmers, you let the silence hang.

“You’ll figure it out, Javi. Life has a funny way of kicking you when you’re down, but somehow, things start falling into place eventually. Might sound like a bad fortune cookie, but it’s true.”

His gaze intense and warm under the park lights, brown eyes looking softer, shadows dancing across his face. The way he looks at you makes your legs shake.

You can’t help the small, vulnerable smile that plays at your lips as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, this moment is worth disregarding your own rules for.

His eyes flicker down to your mouth almost on instinct, and you’re caught in a breath, almost tempted to close the space and feel those lips on yours.

But instead, you let the moment breathe between you, keeping the tension electric, and he’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “Thanks nena. Here’s to hopin’ I don’t have to make a trip down to the unemployment office.” He jokes with a laugh that pulls one out of you too, “Let’s head back. Got one more thing to show you.”

As you both turn back towards his truck, he reaches for your hand again, his fingers curling around yours, gentle and reassuring. You lean into him, resting your head on his arm as you walk. It feels natural, like you’re both finally seeing each other, piece by piece, without all the defenses.

A gentle breeze passes through as you lean against the hood of Javier’s truck, taking in the iconic view.

The twinkling city lights are sprawled out in front of you, while the Hollywood sign looms large and proud in the background. You’ve avoided tourist traps since you moved to LA. Dealing with the general public and pornstars on sets on a daily basis already felt like a big enough dose of Hollywood.

Tonight, though, there’s some kind of magic in being here and you can see why people find themselves drawn to it. Maybe it has something to do with the handsome man beside you.

“You bring all your dates here?” you ask, teasingly.

Javier rubs his lips together, a quiet smile flickering at the edges. “I don’t go on many dates, believe it or not.” He inches a little closer, draping his arm around your shoulder.

“Oh wow, Peña. So smooth.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the steady, intoxicating scent of him, the one that’s been teasing you all night, and how it engulfs you entirely.

There’s a warmth that reaches from his body to yours, one you can’t help but lean into as your hand finds his, fingers lacing loosely.

Resting your head just near his chest, you feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, solid and steady.

“Can’t let this night end without you knowin’ what my intentions are.” He pauses, then adds, “I want to keep seeing you.” His words melt into the night as he dips his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his face nuzzling softly into your hair.

Your breath catches for just a moment, and he feels it too, the faint hesitation creeping in.

Because the truth is, you’re not sure exactly what you want from this. A relationship? A fling? Could you handle being with someone whose job meant fucking other people—even if emotions are fully detatched?

You draw away slightly, positioning yourself to stand between his legs now as he leans against the truck, watching you, a question in his eyes.

“Tonight was wonderful. Better than a lot of first dates I’ve been on…” you trail off, and he quirks an eyebrow, a hint of concern already flashing in his eyes.

“But…?” he prompts, his voice soft but wary.

“Look, I have the utmost respect for what you do. I know what it takes, if anyone can understand what you actors go through, it’s me and all the other crews out there. I’ve seen shit hit the fan more times than I can count.” You twist your fingers, feeling the tension between wanting him and feeling hesitant. “But dating someone in the industry… I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”

His shoulders drop a little, and he sighs. “Yeah… I figured.” He lets out a rough laugh, though it’s clear he’s disappointed. “Not the first time this has happened, or the last, probably. I just… I guess I was hopin’ this would be different.”

“It’s not about you, or… or the work. I don’t care that you’re in porn.” you say gently. “It’s just the idea of dating someone who—well, you know.”

He lets out a sigh, a heavy, defeated sound, and his eyes meet yours. “I know, nena, trust me. It’s a lot. I’m not holding it against you.” His hand runs over his face, frustration tightening his jaw. “It’s just…disappointing as fuck, but I get it.”

Before he can sink too deeply into the regret, of thinking he’s wasted a night taking you out, you reach out, catching his wrists and gently pulling his hands down. You’re close enough now to feel his breath brush across your cheek, and you hold his gaze, fierce and a little daring.

You’d be fucking stupid to walk away from all this without knowing what it feels like to kiss him, the man who’s wound you up so tight and left you as breathless as he has conflicted.

Slowly, you place his hands on your waist, leaning in until your lips barely touch his, your breath mingling together. You can practically feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Kiss me, Javi,” you murmur.

There’s no hesitation. His mouth meets yours, warm and certain, sending a spark through every nerve. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, and you lose yourself in him.

Javier’s mouth moves against yours like he’s savoring every second, his lips plush and gentle, taking his time. 

It’s all so new, so beautifully unhurried.

You meet his pace, moving your lips softly, feeling the slight press and release. When he parts from you slightly, you’re already missing the taste of his mouth, chasing after him.

Then he tilts his head and leans in again, deepening the kiss, his lips fitting against yours with more purpose. He presses closer, his body warm and solid, and you feel his tongue swipe slowly across your lower lip.

A shiver runs through you as you part your lips for him, and the moment his tongue dips into your mouth, a soft moan escapes you, helpless against the sensation.

The sound seems to set something off inside him. Suddenly, the kiss grows hot and urgent, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s afraid to let go, kneading the flesh there while his mouth moves against yours with a new hunger.

Your own hands find their way to his jaw, your fingers sliding up to frame his face, desperate to bring him closer, needing the taste of him to linger.

The feel of his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin adds an edge that only heightens every sensation he’s bestowing on you.

Your tongue meets his, every glide and stroke of it fueling an ache that spreads through you, heat pooling as your teeth clash slightly, both of you pouring months of pent-up desire and frustration into this kiss.

His hold on your waist tightens as your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging at it, and he lets out a low, guttural grunt that gets your bones vibrating.

In one swift movement, Javier maneuvers you, switching positions so that your back is pressed against the hood of his truck.

The cool metal beneath you contrasts with the heat of his body, and one of his hands slides from your waist, strong and possessive, until it grips the plushness of your thigh, hitching it over his hip and pulling your core against his.

The friction, the way his body aligns so perfectly with yours, ignites every nerve in your body.

You gasp against his mouth when his hard length presses against your clothed cunt, right where you need him most. The pressure sends a surge of arousal pooling low in your belly, and you arch into him, craving his intensity.

Your own hands roam, sliding to his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your palm, then his back, his shoulders, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, tracing a slow, wet line down to your neck, where he leaves a trail of heated kisses that have you gasping for air. 

The burn in your lungs is nothing compared to the ache building between your legs, an ache that only grows sharper every time he ruts his hips against yours.

“Gonna make me cum in my pants kissin’ me like that,” he mumbles against your neck..

He drags his lips back up, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing you into another kiss—this one softer, more controlled, yet no less potent.

You’re breathless when you part again, but it’s as though your body doesn’t care, desperate to keep feeling him against you.

When he reaches the curve of your breasts, he pauses, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses over the swells, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth just enough to make you shiver.

“Please, Javi,” you murmur, though you’re not even sure what you’re asking for. All you know is that you’re floating in this thick haze of desire, utterly lost in him, the feel of his lips, the intoxicating drag of his teeth against your skin.

His mouth curls into a smirk against your collarbone, and he lifts his head slightly, his hand sliding over the fabric of your top, shifting it down until your breasts are bared to the cool night air.

You gasp, eyes widening, instinctively sitting up straighter, a half-laugh, half-nervous glance flicking around your surroundings, instinctively pulling him closer to shield you.

His dark eyes meet your gaze, a flicker of mischief swirling with the lust there.

“Here? What if someone sees us?” you breathe, heart thudding in your chest as the chill hardens your nipples to sensitive peaks.

“No one’s gonna bother us, nena, te lo prometo.” Before you can respond, his mouth is on your neck, placing a soft, slow kiss there, licking a stripe and tasting your perfume.

His hands find your breasts, fingers curling around the supple skin, his thumbs brushing your nipples in languid circles that have you melting against him, your breath catching with each teasing stroke.

It’s impossible to focus on anything when Javier’s so in tune with every inch of your body, instinctively reading each gasp and shiver.

His hands are so skilled, cupping, squeezing, until one trails along your waist, playing with your pretty skirt with a firm, claiming touch.

It's the perfect push and pull that floods your senses with him, until you’re completely lost.

His scent fills your lungs, his taste lingers on your tongue, feeling his perfect fucking body against you, hearing his subtle grunts, your vision glazed over with tears of pleasure from how he’s making you feel. 

He watches your reactions, eyes dark and filled with a simmering hunger as you lean flat against the hood of the truck, giving him access.

His mouth descends again, and he looks up at you when he’s reached your breasts. “Not gonna fuck you, since I’m bein’ a gentleman and all,” he murmurs, the words hot against your skin, “but I am gonna get you off just by playin’ with your tits.”

The whimper you let out is animalistic, your legs wrapping around his waist, pressing him closer.

Javier’s mouth is unrelenting, lips wrapping around your nipple with a hot, wet pressure that sends electric jolts straight to your cunt.

His tongue swirls over the sensitive peak, teasing it, as his teeth scrape the aching bud ever so lightly, making you gasp. Then he shifts, sinking his mouth lower to nip, to suck harder, his fingers coming up to twist your other nipple roughly, pinching and tugging at it, making you cry and writhe beneath him.

“Oh fuck that feels so good.” You can’t help but be so vocal and he loves it, the sound of your voice doing just as much to get him off in the same way that his mouth doesn’t let up on your tits.

His other hand is no less demanding, gripping your thigh and ass with rough squeezes, the heat of his touch spreading through the thin barrier of your skirt. When he smacks your flesh, the jolt arches your back off the hood of the truck, pulling a breathy moan from your lips that has him smirking against your chest.

You’re soaked, and he can feel it, his cock pressing insistently against the heat of your clothed pussy as your hips grind down onto him, building a rhythm that he matches with his mouth.

His tongue circles, flicks, and finally he pulls at the hard peak with his teeth, sending another shockwave through your body that has you rolling your hips, more wildly against him.

He pulls back just enough, a string of saliva still connecting him to you as he murmurs, “Baby, just with the way you’re movin’ your hips, I can tell you ride cock like a fuckin’ champ.”

His praise lights you up, fueling your need. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him back to your chest. 

He groans, his mouth latching onto your other breast with fervor, tongue flicking over your nipple rapidly before he pulls it into his mouth, the wet sounds of his lips smacking against your flesh, working your sensitive and pert nipples is filthy and obscene in the best way possible.

“So good, Javi… I’m so close,” you manage, the words spilling out unbidden.

He lets out a low groan as he adjusts the angle of your hips, pressing you firmly against his erection. The new angle grinds perfectly against your clit, drawing you deeper into the pleasure until it’s all-consuming, each nerve tuned only to him.

“Oh, god… Javi,” you gasp, feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tighten, your orgasm creeping closer with every pull, every flick, every grind.

Your body is on fire, trembling as you near the edge, your breaths coming in gasps as you hump him, completely lost to the intensity building.

Javier’s mouth alternates between your breasts, each suck and bite tugging moans out of you until you feel like you might lose it.

When his lips finally find yours again, his fingers replace his mouth on your chest, rough and insistent as they pinch and twist your sensitive nipples.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, deepening the kiss while your body trembles, your jaw slack as you melt into him, moaning his name into his mouth as your orgasm breaks over you in a helpless wave of bliss.

Your body locks up, head canting back and hitting the material beneath you with a gentle thump as you wail his name out into the night. 

“That's right, baby, just like that,” he murmurs, his praise and gentle kisses softening the overstimulation into something even more intoxicating.

His mouth trails over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, every kiss pressing into your flushed skin while spots of pleasure blur your vision.

As you go limp against the cool hood, Javier’s touch softens on your chest, his fingers now gently kneading the sensitive flesh while he eases you back down, his lips trailing tender kisses over each swell before pulling your top back into place.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his deep inhale followed by warm, nipping kisses, his mustache scratching your skin just enough to bring out a fresh shiver from you.

“Javi,” you whimper, barely catching your breath, utterly wrecked and starstruck, amazed that he brought you so much pleasure by just teasing your breasts and rutting against you.

“Yeah?” His voice is a husky rasp, a hint of satisfaction at his lips.

You giggle, breathless, “I… don’t even know…” You laugh again, and he joins in, that low laugh rumbling in his chest as he cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“You enjoy that?” He tilts his head to the side, smugly grinning down at you.

“What do you think?” you tease back, still panting, eyes half-lidded.

You can’t help but admire how sexy he looks with his swollen lips and mussed hair. 

“Wait you didn't finish—” You murmur, beginning to reach down to toy with his belt, but he catches your hand gently.

“Don’t worry about me, nena.” His gravelly voice reassures you. “Seein’ you like this is enough for me.” 

You frown, feeling like you should do something for him, but before you can argue, he’s leaning down to kiss you again, over and over, until you’re both sinking into another slow, heated makeout session under the open sky, everything else fading away.

You’re standing in front of your door, the glow of your porch light casting soft shadows over the two of you. “Thanks for tonight; I had a great time,” you say, though your legs still feel shaky from what happened earlier. 

Javier’s eyes linger on you, “Thank you for letting me take you out,” he says, his tone soft. “Even if… things aren’t ending the way I’d hoped.”

A frown flickers on your face, but you keep your tone light, forcing a gentle laugh.“We can still be friends, you know? That’s one hell of an improvement from where we started.”

But your attempt to ease the tension doesn’t reach him; his expression remains fixed, serious.

“I don’t think I can just be friends with you.”

Then he goes and says something stupid like that. 

“So, what now?” you ask, voice sharper than you meant, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “We just… go our separate ways? Pretend none of this ever happened?”

He looks down, his jaw tense, and the silence that follows is thick, each second feeling like an eternity. His eyes meet yours and he sighs.

“I guess so.”

You release a bitter huff, shaking your head as you turn away, rummaging in your purse for your keys.

Fine. Fine. If that’s the way he wants it, you’ll let it be.

He calls your name, his voice slipping through your defenses like a last-ditch plea, making your shoulders tense. You ignore him, wrestling down the tide of frustration and vulnerability clawing its way back up.

You’d told yourself you didn’t want to get involved with him from the start, and now it feels like you should have stuck to your guns. Would have been easier to just tell him to kiss your ass that day he came into the bar, seducing you in your apartment, then asking you out on a date that ultimately meant nothing.

You find your keys and jam them into the lock, refusing to look back.

The second time he says your name, it’s firmer, and you whirl around to face him.

“Javier, listen—before tonight, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d ever be into you. But I gave you a shot, and turns out, you’re not that bad. You’re actually pretty fucking sweet,” you confess, half-laughing, but it’s tinged with the bitterness that you feel. “And maybe if things were different, I could see us together. But things aren’t different. They’re the same as they always have been, and I won’t make you choose between me and your job.”

“I could quit—”

You let out a laugh, loud and unfiltered. “And do what? You’re damn good at what you do, Javi. I’ve seen it firsthand, and yeah, most of the time it’s some pretty raunchy shit, but there’s something almost… artistic in it, and I’d feel selfish as hell if I was the reason you gave that up.”

He places his hands on his hips, shifting his weight, exasperation written in every taut line of his body. “Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown-ass man who can make his own decisions? I’m starting to hate this job, and I want you.  I don’t care if I have to work a hundred side gigs. If that’s what it takes for you to be mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

The weight of his confession makes your grip on the doorknob tighten, his words sinking deeper than you want them to.

“Javi, please, think this through—”

“You sound like my agent,” he interrupts with a dry laugh, flexing his jaw. “I’ve thought about it. It’s all I can think about. I can’t even keep my cock hard enough to fuck the girls on set anymore, and like I told you before—I’m not taking pills for that shit.”

He steps closer, and you feel a pang in your chest as his hand brushes yours, his gaze desperate, pleading with you to see him the way he sees you.

But it’s messy and it’s hard, and even if it’s everything you didn’t know you wanted, you’re terrified it might be everything you don’t know how to hold onto.

His hands slide up, fingers splaying gently over your cheeks, holding you as if he’s anchoring himself. “Please stop fighting me on this,” he murmurs insistently. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”

The intensity in his eyes roots you in place, brown and warm and so damn certain it’s almost overwhelming. You’re taken aback by the softness in his touch, by how steady his hands feel against your face.

He’s usually much braver in action than in words, and yet here he is, unwavering.

“And you’re sure?” you whisper, not sure you can even trust yourself to hold up your guard.

“Si, nena.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt, just a rock-solid conviction that somehow soothes your racing heart. 

“You’re not gonna regret this down the line? Not even a little?”

“Absolutely not.” His answer is quick and firm, like he’s spent every minute leading up to this one, getting ready to say it.

Oh, fuck. With him looking at you like that, you know you don’t really have any other choice but to give Javier Peña a shot at being your boyfriend.

“Okay… okay, Javi, fine. We’ll see where this goes, but if you start having even one doubt—”

He doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off with his mouth on yours, pulling you close in a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than you were expecting.

It’s deep and consuming, worlds away from anything you’ve ever felt, like he’s pouring everything he has into it, and you can’t help but lose yourself in him like you have been since the moment things shifted in your dynamic.

When you finally come up for air, foreheads resting against each other, you’re both a little breathless, eyes shining with adoration.

“So...we’re doing this?” he asks, a crooked smile on his face that makes him look boyish and so damn pretty.

“I guess we are.”

“Does that mean I can come inside?” And with the way his lips quirk up into a cocky smile, you know exactly what this motherfucker means.

“Nope, we’re taking things slow… and I’m not fucking you until you get tested.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Fair enough. I can work with that.”

You kiss again, his mouth soft and so damn inviting that it takes all your willpower to pull yourself back before you’re tempted to give in right here, in the doorway. “Alright, Javi,” you murmur, feeling his breath linger against your lips as he bites playfully at your lower lip before letting you go. “Goodnight.”

He’s grinning, and it’s that smile that has a way of melting everything inside you. “Goodnight, nena. I’ll call you, set up our second date. Soon.”

The giddiness hits you hard—like back when Frankie was all about pursuing you, only it’s different this time and you don’t know why.

‘“I’ll be waiting.”

He quirks a brow. “I won’t make you wait too long.”

One last, lingering kiss and he’s gone, leaving you at the door, flushed, breathless, and completely jumbled in the best way possible.

“It feels weird being on this side of the bar,” you say, settling onto a barstool across from Connie. Javier slides into the stool next to you, immediately pulling you closer, his hand warm and possessive on your thigh.

“If you’re here to flaunt your relationship, you should start charging for it—I know I’d pay to see it,” Connie teases with a wink, already preparing your usual drink and turning to Javier. “And what about you?”

“Whiskey. Neat,” he answers, then leans into you, his voice a murmur by your ear, his hand slipping higher up your thigh, sneaking under the hem of your dress. “She does have a point, though.”

You smirk, pretending to ignore the way his fingers are trailing dangerously close to your panties. “Not sure I’d be any good on camera. Not like you, anyway.”

He chuckles and you can feel the heat between you two, that ever-present hum of lust you’ve been riding since the night he first kissed you.

It’s been blissful a month of dating Javier, and being with him is like no relationship you’ve had before.

You’ve found so much joy in the simplest moments with him—like when he fixes the little issues around your apartment that your landlord could care less about, or, the lively debates you have in the grocery store aisles, passionately debating which brand of coffee is better. 

Sure, you still haven’t officially slept with him, but that hasn’t stopped either of you from exploring each other. He’s kept his promise to make you feel amazing, finding delicious ways to learn your body without actually crossing that line.

It has only made everything feel deeper, sweeter. The way you make out like teenagers, unraveling each other in all the ways that matter, has been more than enough.

It wasn’t until a few days ago that you finally returned the favor, slipping into the shower with him and blowing his mind in every sense of the word, until he was helplessly spilling down your throat. Your jaw’s still a little sore from how eagerly you’d gone down on him, the memory of his breathless groans seared in your mind. 

Tonight, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, officially. He’d planned this whole evening at a rooftop restaurant, it was a little too fancy, but he looked at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.

The restaurant itself was overpriced and borderline ridiculous, but you two had made a game of it, teasing and laughing over the small portions and the pretentious plating. 

He even surprised you with a beautiful pair of earrings that you immediately put on, and he looked so damn proud when you showed them off.

Now you’re here at Lucky’s, both of you a bit overdressed, not ready to call it a night yet.

You can feel Javier’s gaze on you, intense and unwavering. “Baby, you’d be a fucking sight,” he says, teeth grazing your earlobe before he bites down gently, his warm breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver through you. You can’t help but giggle, feeling breathless and flushed as he plants a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Why are you two all dressed up?” Connie asks, setting your drinks down with a raised brow.

“Went out for dinner at the most overpriced spot I’ve ever set foot in. Easily spent my entire Friday night’s tips, and I’m still hungry.”

“Not only does that sound like a waste of time, but it’s definitely not your style.”

Javier leans back, one arm draped over your barstool. “To clarify: she didn’t spend a damn dime,” he interjects, “I had to take her somewhere special to ask her to be my girl,” he says, voice dripping with smooth confidence as he raises his glass for a sip.

Connie’s eyes light up, and your cheeks flush. “Consistent dick is the ultimate antidepressant. Trust me, I’d know,” she says with a wink.

You laugh at her bluntness, and fall into an easy rhythm of conversation, her giving updates on things with Steve, then gushing over the earrings Javier had gifted you earlier.

Just as you’re leaning in to admire them together, you notice a figure approaching. A woman, older and stunningly beautiful, glides up to the bar—her gaze fixed squarely on Javier.

“Javier, is that you?” Her voice is low, sultry, every word dripping with familiarity as she slides up beside him, her gaze unmistakably hungry. “Dios mío, mira qué guapo te has puesto, mi amor.”

Your head snaps up, conversation with Connie dissolving as Javier stands, greeting her with a hug that makes you do a double take.

You share a look with Connie, her expression mirroring the curious frown you feel. She raises her brows, silently mouthing, Who is that?

I don’t know, you mouth back, jealousy twisting in your stomach as you glance back at them.

They part, but her hands linger a moment too long on his chest, her manicured fingers trailing down. Javier very politely but firmly moves them away, a small frown creeping onto her face.

“Judy, long time no see.” His tone is courteous but distant. “This is my girlfriend,” he says, his voice warm as he makes the introduction, stepping back to your side, positioning you squarely in her line of sight.

You’re about to revel in the term girlfriend rolling so easily off his tongue, but her eyes lock onto you with a chill that runs down your spine. Standing your ground, you straighten, meeting her gaze head-on.

She’s stunning, her hair tastefully graying in elegant streaks against her rich brunette, her makeup precise and expensive. The smile lines around her mouth only enhance her aging beauty and if it weren’t for the absolute diabolical vibes you’re getting from her, you would have complimented how good she looks.

The tailored outfit, chunky gold bracelets, diamond-studded earrings and matching necklace leave no question—she has money.

What she’s doing at a dive bar like Lucky’s is beyond you, but maybe LA has its fill of pretentious types everywhere.

“Encantada,” she purrs, a fake smile flashing across her face before her focus shifts back to Javier. “¿Tienes novia? No lo puedo creer, Javiercito. Nunca me lo imaginé de ti.¿Sigues actuando?”

Her words drip with disbelief, her eyes giving you a nasty once over, and you catch enough Spanish to know she’s making a point to speak only to him. It’s like you’re just a side note, something to size up and dismiss.

Javier shifts, catching the tension in your posture, but she’s unrelenting. He responds curtly, “No, not with others. More solo work now.”

She scoffs, a haughty tsk of disapproval as she tilts her head.“No me digas que tu noviecita no te deja.” A mocking pout twists her lips. “Mija, if you’re going to date a pornstar, you’re going to have to deal with the baggage that comes with it. You don’t just get to benefit from him, from what I taught him.”

A flush of fury burns through you, and you’re on the verge of standing up, ready to beat her ass for her audacity. But Javier senses it and steps in, fingers pressing gently but firmly against your thigh, silently calming you down before you do something that’ll make him have to bail you out.

“It was my choice. Gig isn’t fun anymore,” he says firmly, a hint of irritation finally creeping into his tone. “We’re actually in the middle of a date, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us to it…”

She glances between the two of you, clearly displeased at being dismissed but not quite willing to push her luck. Her smile turns syrupy, and you roll your eyes, signaling Connie for another drink. She’s failing miserably at pretending like she’s not listening in. 

“Of course,” she says in a sugary tone, eyes lingering on him.“Provecho. Si cambias tu mente, sabes donde encontrarme, Javi. We used to have so much fun together.” Her fingers trace down his arm a little too slowly, and she practically purrs, “Enjoy your date, sweetheart,” as she struts off, hips swinging with exaggerated flair.

But his eyes don’t follow, they turn to you.

Once she’s out of earshot, you raise a brow, waiting for some explanation. “So… who was that?” you ask as he sits back beside you, tossing back the last of his drink.

“An old colleague,” he says flatly.

You feel another surge of jealousy, and the second your drink arrives, you’re downing it in one go.

“Woah, nena, take it easy—”

“Is that normal for you?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation bubbling up. “Having fans… ‘colleagues’ just approach you out of nowhere, all of them ready to fuck?” You know your tone’s more annoyed than you intended, but the image of her hands all over him pisses you off.

He studies you, cautious, as if measuring his words. “Honestly? Yes. I’m very popular, baby,” he says with a crooked smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “I thought you knew that.”

You let out a sigh, guilt creeping in for directing your irritation at him. “I know… I do. There’s just a difference between knowing and actually experiencing it.” You try to keep the bite out of your tone. “It’s not like she was being subtle either. Looked like she was two seconds away from spreading herself out for you right here.”

There’s definitely an adjustment that still needs to be made in terms of dating a pornstar.

“I’ll be better about shutting them down,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even if you do look hot when you’re jealous.”

You try to suppress a smile, rolling your eyes as he leans closer, brushing his lips along your bare shoulder, then trailing up to your neck, melting your frustration just a bit. He’s too good at this.

“I wasn’t jealous,” you lie, glancing sideways at him. “Also didn’t peg you as an ‘older women’ guy. I’ve only ever seen you with the younger girls.” Saying it even makes you cringe.

As if on cue, Connie, ever the observant bartender, swoops in with replacement drinks, eyebrows raised knowingly. “Everything good over here? I don’t need to call an ambulance or anything, right?”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head. “No, Con, we’re fine.”

“Even though I wouldn’t mind seeing her kick some ass.” Javier teases.

She laughs, nodding at you. “Oh, you want to see her fight? Be here during a major sports event. Last year during March Madness, she gave this guy a black eye ‘cause he called her a cunt when she accidentally changed the channel, then ended up going toe-to-toe with his girlfriend.”

Javier raises his brows at you. “Seriously?”

You shrug, unfazed. “They asked for it.”

As Connie gets pulled away by some patrons at the other end of the bar, Javier turns to you, his expression shadowed and a bit more serious than before.

“When I first started, my confidence was shot. I’m talkin’ nonexistent,” he admits, his voice low.

You arch a brow, struggling to picture a less-than-assured Javier Peña. “Really? I’m having a hard time imagining that.”

“Yeah, well…” He lets out a rough sigh, “When your fiancée gets knocked up and leaves you at the altar for the guy she’s been cheating on you with, that tends to happen.”

You choke on your drink, and your hand flies to your chest, eyes wide. He glances at you, his concern slipping past his own discomfort for a second. You wave him off as you try to get it together, the words still rattling around in your mind.

“Sorry—what?” you finally manage, hardly believing what you just heard.

“Didn’t mean to dump it on you like that,” he says, leaning on the bar, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the counter, his gaze cast downward.

“Hold up. You were engaged?” You can’t help but lean in, your curiosity clawing to the surface. “And she left you?” You’re struggling to piece it all together, mind spinning through images of the man sitting next to you, younger and heartbroken.

“Yeah,” his jaw twitches. “Her name was Lorraine. We were high school sweethearts—whole ‘marry your first love’ thing.” There’s a hard edge in his voice now, his fingers gripping the glass a bit tighter. “Thought I’d have the life, fill a house with kids, do the whole all-American family bullshit.” His words are bitter, the resentment so clear you almost feel it yourself. 

He takes a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Wedding day comes around and she’s gone. Left some half-assed note saying she ‘couldn’t do it,’ and her sister finally broke down and told me what was really going on. She’d been screwing her boss. He got her pregnant.”

There’s a crash behind the bar as a glass shatters. You glance over to see Connie, her face red, scrambling to clean it up with an embarrassed apology. You can’t blame her for listening in—you’re feeling a similar gut punch. 

You knew there was something that happened that made him jump the gun and move to California, now, you know what it is. An ain’t shit ex.

“Javi, that’s fucked. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that must have hurt.”

He gives a small nod, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip.

From where you’re sitting, you can see his profile in the low light—his strong nose, the gentle curve of his cheekbones, those lips that naturally form a pout when he’s deep in thought.

"I tried to keep it together, but that town became… suffocating. The looks I got…” Javier’s voice trails off as he shakes his head. “So I packed my shit, said goodbye to my pops, and just started driving. Stopped in all sorts of places, did some sightseeing, trying to figure things out.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “Ended up here, and Steve was the first friend I made. That asshole’s the one who got me into porn.”

Your brows shoot up, surprised yet again by his story’s unexpected turns. “Steve? Oh god, don’t tell me he used to do it too.”

Javier smirks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “He did a few flicks. Nothing groundbreaking like me.” He says all cheekily, and you can’t help but nudge him. “So, yeah, I started out for a few bucks. Wasn’t so hot in the beginning—and then I met Judy.”

At the mention of her, your face twists involuntarily, and he notices but ignores your reaction. 

“She taught me most of what I know, and we shot a lot of projects together. People liked what they saw, and after a while, I started getting paired with older co-stars. That kinda became my thing. MILFs and cougars,” he says, his gaze tracing your features to gauge your response. 

You’re still reeling from everything he’s told you so far, marveling at the many lives this man has lived before finding his way to you. “That explains a lot, actually,” you say, your thoughts slipping out with your words.

It now makes sense why he’s so damn good at foreplay. Skills like his? They’re honed under women who know exactly what the fuck they’re talking about, who aren’t shy to take what they need.

Suddenly, your own insecurities begin to simmer and you wonder if you’ll ever amount to the women before you.

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah? Like what?”

You glance up, unflinching. “Like the fact that you can fuck.” Your bluntness pulls a laugh out of both of you—his full of mischief, yours tinged with nerves.

“Not a problem, is it?” he asks, that signature smirk softened, yet curious.

It’s a loaded question, so you take a sip, buying a little time before answering. “What, that you can fuck?”

He laughs again, more genuine this time, a sound that melts some of the tension inside you.

“No, nena,” he replies, still grinning. “Everything else.”

The laughter fades, and for a moment, you sit in the quiet, watching tiny droplets slide down the condensation on your glass.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for honesty. “It’s not a problem, Javi. But… if I’m being real with you, I don’t feel up to par with what you’re used to.”

You can tell from the way his face falls into a scowl that he doesn’t like how you’ve phrased it. “What I have with you is different, cariño. Not something scripted for a camera.” 

“I know that, but still. You’re used to professionals—people who know exactly what to do, how to look, how to please. Me?” You let out a shaky laugh, grimacing at your self deprecation, and your gaze falls to the drink in your hand. “You’re lucky if I even get on top.”

As the last word falls, your cheeks flush with embarrassment, feeling raw and exposed at a fucking dive bar.

Before you can turn further away, Javier leans in close, gently catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His expression is nothing but tender, his dark eyes soft.

“Hey, stop that,” he murmurs, his voice so gentle it’s almost a whisper. “You’re more than enough. Trust me.” His fingers stroke softly along your jaw, lingering. “I wasn’t looking for a waxed-up, camera-ready professional. I wanted something real and I found you.”

Your heart stirs at the depth in his voice. He lets out a small breath, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. “I know you’ve got your hang-ups, and I get it. I’ve been there. It’s… hard to feel like you’re enough when you’re constantly comparing yourself to people who don’t even matter. But I’m tellin’ you, baby, it shouldn’t be like that with us.”

He shifts a little closer, his gaze earnest. “I’ll help you feel more confident the way someone once did for me. But the difference? I’m givin’ you everything. Not just sex, not just some half-hearted attempt. I’m here—all in.”

You swallow the mix of emotions he’s just poured into you—gratitude, desire, and a newfound trust that fills the spaces where your insecurities had settled.

Your eyes search his, words catching in your throat as you try to express everything you’re feeling. But instead of speaking, you reach for the hand at your face, your stare steady as you quietly murmur, “Let’s go upstairs.”

You stumble through the door, bodies pressed close as you and Javier crash into the walls of your apartment, lips never parting for more than a heartbeat.

Your hands roam each other’s bodies, his fingers tracing down your spine, your own tugging eagerly at his shirt, popping buttons until it falls open, greedily feeling up on his warm and toned chest.

His belt follows, clinking to the floor, and as you kick off your heels, you barely register the sound of them hitting the ground—lost in the heavy rhythm of your pulse, the taste of his mouth, the roughness of his scruff.

He sinks down onto the edge of your bed, and you move to straddle him, but he catches you just in time, leaning back a bit with a smirk. “Take your dress off…” he orders, his voice gravelly as his eyes travel hungrily over you, biting his lower lip.

Your heart races as you take a few steps back, antsy fingers reaching for the zipper at your side.

“Slowly,” he adds, and you slow down, teasing him as you draw the zipper down until your dress is loose against your skin.

Holding it to your chest with one hand, you turn around, letting it slip and fall in a gentle whisper to the floor, leaving you standing in just your underwear.

His satisfied hum makes you shiver, and you feel his gaze burn down your back, over the curve of your hips, your thighs.

Looking over your shoulder with a flirty smile, you catch his eye, and he grins in return.

“Turn around, baby, let me see you.”

You turn to face him, nerves quieted by the way he’s looking at you—as if he’s seeing you naked for the first time.

He lets out a soft, almost reverent groan, then extends his hands, urging you closer. You step forward, your hands finding his shoulders as you finally straddle his lap, his warmth searing through you. 

His mouth captures yours, rough hands sliding up to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples until you’re trembling, gasping against his lips as you remember what happened the last time he toyed with you like this.

“Javi…” you whisper his name, your voice barely a breath as you pull away just enough to speak, eyes meeting his. “I want you. All of you.” You lean in to kiss him again, fervent, moving to trail your lips along his jaw, nipping lightly.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say it firmly, leaving no room for doubt, wanting him to understand exactly what you need.

He groans deeply, his hands dropping to grip your ass and pull you closer. “Are you sure?” his nose brushes along your neck, his breath hot against your skin as you continue kissing along his jaw.

“Yes, Javi,” you breathe out, voice thick with need, “I need you so bad.”

With practiced ease, Javier shifts you onto your back, stretching out beneath him as he hovers close, his touch claiming every inch of exposed skin. His hands trail over you, hot and lingering, and you feel like you’re melting beneath him, completely under his control.

When he finally pulls away to slip out of his remaining clothes, you see his gaze wander, fixated on something by your bedside table.

Following his line of sight, you realize he’s locked onto the purple vibrator you’d left out after using it the other night when he wasn’t around, leaving you to fend for yourself.

A sly smile tugs at his lips as he reaches over, picking it up and turning it over in his hand. “This little thing gets you off?” he teases, holding it up as though he’s sizing up the competition.

You roll your eyes, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer, but he resists, firmly planted just out of reach.“When I’m in a pinch, yes. Haven’t exactly needed it much lately, thanks to you.”

A thoughtful hum escapes him as he glances between you and the toy, as if weighing his options. Then, moving back over you, he kneels between your thighs, one hand gripping your hip possessively, teasing the band of your panties, while the other holds the vibrator with a wicked gleam. “I think we could put this to good use tonight.”

The spark of excitement floods through you, making your thighs tense instinctively, hips lifting slightly in response. Javier notices, his smirk widening as he lets the band of your panties snap back against your skin, making you gasp.

His eyes darken as he watches you writhe, clearly savoring your every little movement.

“Oh, yeah?” you manage to ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. “How?”

Instead of answering, he switches the toy on, and the low, steady hum fills the room. His eyes never leave you as he drags it lightly over your pelvis, nowhere close to where you ache for him, but enough to make your breath hitch, a soft moan slipping out as you arch into his touch.

His grip on your hip tightens. “Stay still,” he commands, using that sexy bedroom voice of his that’s even more gravelly and deeper than his usual cadence.

Obediently, you settle back, watching him with bated breath. He keeps the toy hovering just above your soaked panties, tantalizingly close to where you need him most.

When he finally presses it down on your clothed pussy, just enough to tease, you let out a low, pleading whimper, your hands gripping the sheets as he works you over in slow, cruel strokes.

His stare holds yours, a silent promise that tonight, he’s going to take his time, making sure you feel every single second of it.

Your breaths come out heavy and uneven, your whole body tensing as you fight the urge to grind up against it, trying to maintain some composure while he has you pinned down beneath that slow, teasing rhythm.

Javier moves the toy in tight, deliberate circles, dragging it excruciatingly slow over your needy clit, the first setting absolute torture.

He’s in no hurry, watching with intense focus as you tremble, his eyes tracing every twitch, every bead of arousal that weeps from your cunt, dampening the thin fabric even more.

He keeps that maddening pace, and as the vibrations ripple through you, you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, an orgasm coiling dangerously tight, ready to snap.

Your nails dig into the duvet, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, fuck, Javi—I’m… I’m gonna come—”

But just as you reach that edge, he pulls the toy away and turns it off, leaving you gasping, the sensation dissipating as quickly as it built. Your eyes snap open and you sit up slightly, desperate and hazy, locking onto him. “What the fuck?”

“Shh,” he hushes you, though there’s no denying the look of satisfaction on his face. Javi brushes his lips over the corner of your mouth, calming you with a soft, feather-light kiss. “Just trust me, okay? You know I always take care of you.”

You do know. This man has pulled so many orgasms right out of your body without even fucking you with his dick. That reassurance melts away your frustration from being pulled back from the precipice. You nod, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that’s so intoxicating, tongues sliding against each other, his hand skipping down your side to the band of your panties.

Slowly, he drags the fabric down, his fingers gliding over your skin, leaving a blazing trail as they go.

When he finally discards your underwear, you’re left bare beneath him, exposed and aching, while he still wears that unbuttoned dress shirt, his slacks riding low on his hips, half undone.

It’s annoying how good he looks—just dressed enough to drive you wild with impatience.

He taps your knee, urging you to spread wider, his gaze fixed on you with unrestrained desire. And the way he looks at you—like you’re all he’s ever wanted—banishes every flicker of self-doubt, every whisper of insecurity.

You let yourself open up to him completely, your sticky, swollen pussy on full display, pulsing in anticipation, needing him more than words can say.

His eyes rake over you with reverence, dark and smoldering as he drinks in every inch of yourself that you’re offering to him, his chest rising and falling a little heavier. 

“Always so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your knee before settling back between your legs.

The vibrator flicks on again, and he traces it up your inner thighs, letting you tremble beneath his touch. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the urge to shout at him to stop playing around, to just give it to you.

Javier trails the toy along your slick lips, his gaze dark and hungry as your arousal drips out of your cunt, every inch of your body clenching with need. When he finally presses the vibrator to your clit, a shudder ripples through you, your back arching off the bed.

He groans low and deep, clearly savoring your reaction.

“Javi,” you moan, hips already grinding against the pressure as he keeps the vibrator in place, turning up the intensity to make you gasp, your body moving to meet it, demanding more.

“Feel good, baby?” he murmurs, his voice like smoke.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out, nodding feverishly, your eyes squeezed shut as you let the pleasure wash over you, helplessly rocking against him.

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls it away.

Over and over, he teases, edging you with that relentless, maddening rhythm, each denial more tortuous than the last.

He alternates between fucking the toy inside you, pressing it against the fleshy cleft of your clit, and peppering soft, almost loving kisses down your body: your neck, your jaw, the valley between your breasts. His tongue traces your nipple in slow circles, flicking it just enough to drive you wild, until you’re a trembling, teary mess beneath him, desperate for release.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he coos, stroking your cheek as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting, plunging it inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy crying around it only fuel his hunger as he watches your face.

You feel his fingers cup your jaw, firm and unyielding, his eyes blazing into yours as you cling to his touch, mascara running down your cheeks, feeling so utterly wrecked.

“Please, Javi… please let me come,” you beg, your voice ragged. But he just tightens his hold, fingers digging into the skin of your cheeks, pressing the toy in deep as his thumb circles your clit, leaving you breathless. 

“Just when you think you can let go… it’s snatched from you,” he whispers, ignoring your pleas, dragging you to the brink only to pull the vibrator away once again, leaving you a shaking, furious mess.

A strangled sound escapes your throat, torn between anger and need, barely feeling like yourself.

Javier chuckles, bending down to nip at your chin, his teeth grazing your skin before his tongue traces a line up your jaw. “That’s how you’ve been making me feel for months now, nena,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy. It’s only fair that I make you feel even a fraction of it.”

“Y-You’re an asshole,” you try to retort, but your voice comes out barely above a whisper, your tone more a helpless whine than any real protest.

He grins, mocking your pout with one of his own, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Don’t say that, baby. You’re breakin’ my heart.” He brushes one last kiss against your lips, pulling back just as you lean into him, already aching to feel him close again, his warmth a cruel tease.

He undresses fully, and your mouth literally waters as your gaze traces the sculpted lines of his stomach, following the trail of hair that leads down to his thick, throbbing cock.

The head is swollen and red, already dripping with precome, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your lips, your hips shifting instinctively, every nerve ending primed and desperate for him. You’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long, craving it with every fiber of your being. 

You need to fuck this man.

As he climbs back over you, his hands reach to pull you closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as if they belong there, your hands clutching at the solid warmth of his shoulders.

You pull him down to you, your bare breasts pressed to the hard plane of his chest, as he balances himself with both hands planted beside your head, his eyes burning into yours. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft, and you nod, kissing the corner of his mouth before tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Mhm,” you breathe, staring up at him, completely wrecked and totally ready. “I’m just ready to take you, Javi. Need it so bad.”

He groans, the heat in his eyes darkening as he adjusts his hips, hovering right there, just out of reach. “Go ahead, baby, take it. Put it in.”

His words are like gasoline to a fire, and a shiver runs through you at the sheer, visceral need in his command.

Reaching down, your fingers wrap around his length, both of you gasping as you feel the heat and hardness of him pulsing in your hand. You squeeze gently, stroking him slowly, and he hisses, rolling his hips into your grip.

You swirl your thumb over the head, spreading the bead of precome across his skin, the silky-slick texture making you dizzy with anticipation.

Drunk on him, on everything he evokes in you, you guide the head of his cock to your soaked, swollen entrance, rubbing it slowly against your aching slit.

The sensation has you trembling, but when he finally pushes forward, easing himself into you, you let out a loud, breathless whine. The stretch of him is so perfect, so utterly fulfilling that your back arches, your toes curling as your head falls back into the sheets. 

“Oh, fuck—Javier, you feel so good,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him, holding him deep as your body adjusts to every thick, pulsing inch. It’s even better than you ever imagined.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he thrusts forward, filling you to the hilt. “Nena,” he grunts, voice ragged, “I’m not gonna last—shit.” He sounds as wrecked as you feel, his hips pressing flush against yours as he sinks in deep, your inner walls gripping him as if you’ll never let him go.

“Please,” you whimper, grinding your hips up to meet him, urging him on. He sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking until he’s left a mark, his mouth hot and relentless as he peppers kisses and bites along your throat.

He’s holding himself back, giving you a second to catch up, but every inch of you craves him.

“Give me, fuck, gimme a second,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and controlled, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss, your bodies locked together as he builds a rhythm, deeper and more intense with every movement.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as he grinds just right, the coarse hairs of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit, making you babble helplessly against his parted lips, your own pleasure climbing higher with each thrust. “Right there, Javi, right there—I’m so close, please…”

He speeds up, his strokes hard and unrestrained, driving you to the edge. But even as he tries to keep his control, you feel him faltering, his body tensing as the pleasure becomes too much.

“Fuck—puta madre, nenita—you feel so good—” His voice breaks, and he gives one, two, three hard thrusts, burying himself deep as his release finally takes over, his warm, pulsing release spilling into you as he groans loudly, hips grinding as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm.

Your chest heaves with every breath, your body still humming with tension. As much as you’re flattered by his performance, you’re left tingling, unfinished, after all the edging and teasing he put you through.

“Javi…” You murmur softly, your hands sliding from his tousled hair down his shoulders, the heat radiating off his skin. 

He responds with a low grunt, still draped over you, his weight grounding you.

“Javier,” you say again, a bit more insistently this time, and he lifts his head, eyes heavy and glazed, looking at you as if you’ve just broken him in the best way possible.

You’ve never seen him look this wrecked, his breath still uneven and his face flushed—all because of you. Fighting the urge to smirk, you can’t help but revel in the sight of him.

Men can be sensitive about finishing quickly, but he looks nothing but smug.

“Pussy’s too damn good, baby. Fuckin’ Christ,” he groans, a grin tugging at his lips, his words breathy and awed.

Now you let yourself smirk, feeling the flush of satisfaction. He nuzzles his nose against yours, murmuring, “Gotta make up for that.”

You raise a brow, intrigued. And then he’s moving, slowly pulling out of you, making you hum as the absence of him sends a small flutter through your sensitive cunt, his warm, milky cum trickling out and coating your thighs. 

With determination in his gaze, he begins his descent, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your sternum, his breath a delicious tease against your skin until he’s nestled between your legs.

His broad shoulders press your thighs open, and then he throws them over his shoulders, eyes locked on yours, his look nothing short of ravenous.

Javi nips and kisses along your inner thighs, each bite and lick sending sparks straight to your core. When he finally reaches your swollen, aching pussy, his thumbs slide over your folds, parting them to reveal the slick mess he left behind.

Then, you feel the first swipe of his tongue, warm and slow, tasting you both. His groan is deep and low, the sound vibrating against you as he begins to devour you, licking and slurping at your mixed arousal with a hunger that’s overwhelming. 

You can’t hold back—you’re too wound up, too sensitive, and you grab at his hair, your fingers twisting and tugging as your release crashes through you, every wave building on all the ones denied before. 

You’re left gasping, body arched and taut, thighs clamping around his head as you scream his name, mindlessly babbling through the pleasure.

“Javi! Fuck—fuck, yes, oh god—” 

He growls against you, mouth working as he drinks in every pulse, his tongue relentless as he wrings every last aftershock from your shaking body.

It’s beyond anything you’ve felt before, overwhelming and intense, leaving you utterly spent as you finally start to come down, your body melting beneath him, weak and utterly satisfied.

As he finishes devouring you between your thighs, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s thrusting into you again, harder and deeper this time, with a fierce intensity that rips a loud, shameless cry from you.

Right, he’s got that pornstar stamina.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you up with him as he sits up, his brows knitted in concentration, his tongue peeking out as he watches you completely unravel around him.

“That’s right, baby,” he growls, “Gonna give me one more on my cock, show me how bad you wanted it.”

You used to roll your eyes at the exaggerated moans you’d hear on set, doubting anyone could actually be that good.

But he is that good. Beyond that good. He’s better.

Now here you are, body trembling, head thrown back, moaning his name so loudly it might echo through the whole building. Every hard thrust feels like it’s driving into the core of you, filling you so perfectly that the room spins. 

His grip tightens, hands splayed across your hips as he finds a rhythm that sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. The thick drag of his cock hits every spot, and he knows just how to read every gasp, every shudder, adjusting his pace and angle to push you higher and higher. 

He pulls your legs up, folding them against your chest, his hips angled to grind against that one perfect spot that has stars dancing across your vision. You’re lost to him, mimicking those moans you used to scoff at, now higher and even more desperate as he laughs, deep and husky.

“Got you singin’ like a fuckin’ bird, nenita,” he teases, his laugh tapering off into a low groan. “And to think you didn’t want this. Now look at you—all fucked out and creamin’ on my cock”

Your bed creaks with every hard thrust, the scent of sex thick in the air, but all you can focus on is him—his rough hands, the way he looks down at you, utterly in control.

He’s all you can feel, all you can breathe, and as he digs his nails into the plush skin of your thighs, you know you’re on the edge, your pussy clenching tightly around him. 

Your gaze meets his, and somehow you manage a blissful, shaky smile, a small act of defiance just before he pushes you over.

“There she is,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, baby—let me feel it.”

“Javi… oh my fuck, I’m coming!” The words are a gasp, strangled and desperate, as your body locks around him, your orgasm crashing through you in waves that leave you breathless, gushing around his cock as every muscle in your body clenches tight.

It feels like you’ve drifted to the heavens, like he’s drawn out every last ounce of strength from you. 

You’re dazed, floating, but he’s still there, whispering to you, “Good girl, that’s it. I’ve got you,” his voice a warm balm as he slows his movements, matching the rhythm of your aftershocks, soothing you with each gentle thrust as he holds you close.

Your body shudders, tiny jolts of overstimulation sparking through you as he stays with you, coaxing you back down from the edge, until you’re nothing but a soft, sated mess in his arms.

He gently eases your legs down, pulling out of you with a slow, tender touch before settling by your side. 

His arms wrap around you, drawing you in close as you both lie there, utterly spent, skin warm and sticky from sweat and the lingering traces of your wild fucking.

His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you let out a contented sigh, burrowing into his chest. You crave the solid weight of his body, the grounding warmth of him as you slowly come back to reality.

“You’re not real,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled but laced with awe. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, a low, comforting sound that makes you smile even wider.

“I’m very real, and very yours, nena,” Javi replies, his hand drifting lazily up and down your back in gentle strokes that make you melt even further. The warmth of his words seeps into you, and your heart flutters.

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest, and take a moment to really admire him: the deep brown of his eyes, the dark sweep of his lashes, the fullness of his mustache, and that defined jaw you love tracing your fingers along.

Your hands wander, tracing faint shapes on his shoulders, running over the hard lines of his triceps, relishing the feel of him beneath your fingers.

“I need a shower. And to change these sheets,” you murmur, glancing around at the disheveled bed.

“Yeah, someone made quite the mess,” he teases, pinching your ass, which makes you yelp and swat his chest with a playful smack.

“Asshole,” you grumble, but he just laughs, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that’s softer, and you melt into him all over again.

“I’ll go start the shower for you, then change the sheets while you’re in there.”

“Catering to my every whim already? I just became your girlfriend,” you tease.

“Yeah, and I’m trying to keep it that way for the foreseeable future,” he says, brushing a quick, sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before slipping away from you.

You can’t help the little pout that forms as he sits up, rolling his shoulders back, his muscles jolting, which makes you weak in the knees.

You watch him as he moves throughout your room then into your bathroom, your eyes trailing over every muscle, every line of his body, unable to resist biting your lip.

He really is gorgeous—so damn hot—and he’s all yours.

🏷️ : @almostempty . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

@pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 . @maladptivedaydreaming .

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 

Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 

Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 

You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 

Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”

It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 

The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 

You never told me your name.

Why do you want to know my name?

Because I want to know who I’m looking at.

This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 

It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”

“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.

He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 

Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 

Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 

“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”

He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”

You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”

You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 

You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”

“Can I get a kiss now?” 

He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”

“Aw man! Really?”

You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”

You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 

“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”

“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 

“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.

“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 

You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 

You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 

“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”

Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”

“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 

“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 

“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 

“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.

He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 

You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 

He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”

Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 

Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”

You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”

After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 

As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”

You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 

“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”

You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."

He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”

You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.

[somejazzinthemorning]

snapshot.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: overuse of pet names because i'm a romantic, masturbation, mentions of sex. not beta-d so sorry for typos or mistakes ] - Word Count: 1K

you capture a candid photo of your boyfriend sleeping. little do you know, this innocent act sparks some ideas in his mind.

(i needed to do something after i saw him in boyfriend mode taking photos of his girl. hope this is a good way to make my comeback. soon i'll post about the little break I took. love you all. hope you enjoy) 🫶🏼

The morning sun pours its golden rays through the curtains. You wake up with its gentle kiss. The warm glow envelops you, seeming to prickling your naked skin. You find yourself nestled in its embrace, entangled in a sleepy haze, locked in the limbo between dreams and wakefulness.

You sigh as you open your eyes.

The gentle glow of the light dances around you, creating a peaceful ambiance that centers on the man lying next to you. Carlos. His head rests on the pillow; hair falling in disarray over his forehead.

Owning the image before you, your eyes don’t shy away from taking in the whole scene—the slightly parted lips, the shadow of his long eyebrows, the naked chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slow breaths. There’s a serene vulnerability about him in that morning light, a beauty that begs to be immortalized.

And you know you can’t trust your mind for that. You can’t afford to have time tarnish it.

So you shift in bed and reach for the nightstand where your phone rests, and you aim the camera at Carlos. For a second, it seems a crime to so casually steal that image of beauty and serenity with something as mundane as a touch on a screen. Beauty like that deserves more effort.

Carlos stirs slightly, a fragment of a smile playing on his lips as he mumbles, with his eyes still closed,

“What are you doing?” There’s drowsiness in his voice, laced with a hint of amusement.

“Nothing,” you whisper softly. “You just looked so pretty.”

He smirks and runs his hands over his face. “I should feel violated,” he teases, extending his hands towards you, “My turn, now.”

Handing him the phone, you watch him. His gaze shifts to you with a different glint. You’re sitting on your knees in bed, the sheets around your legs, and nothing but your hair covering your chest. Reclining in bed, he points the camera at you. Instinctively, you cover your chest with your hands, the modesty you still hold translated into something similar to a pose.

Carlos lets out a soft groan. “No, no,” he protests, “you can’t hide those from me.”

“You want a photo of my boobs?”

“Sí, to have it as a keepsake in my wallet.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes and giggle at the sight of him. The sleepy eyes. The messy hair. The ridiculously overly feminine case on your iPhone that looks absurdly small in his big hairy hands. And all of this bathed in the soft glow of morning light and the memories of last night when you loved each other to sleep... God, you feel so lucky to have found this man.

Tilting your head to the photo, a faint smile grazes your lips as your gaze lingers on him, disregarding the phone pointing at you.

“The hair,” he directs.

This time, without even noticing, you were already obeying. You sweep your hair back, leaving the strands to cascade down your back. The soft sound of the clicks locks this moment into eternity. Looking down, you see the streaks of light cutting through your chest, drawing parallel lines over your naked bosom. You pass your fingers over it. Click. You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the light. Click. Your arms stretch over your head, in a casual stretch like you've done any morning, without a camera aiming at you. Click.

When you look back at your boyfriend, he’s smirking.

A mischievous twinkle awakens in his eyes. He’s enjoying this. Probably way more than you.

You let your fingers rest over your lips. Click. And then they hover over your jawline and your neck, which is still sore and probably painted with small hickeys. Click. Patiently, they glide over the curves of your chest with a fatherly touch, a tease enough to make your skin erupt into goosebumps. Before you dare to touch yourself, you look up.

“Do you like this?” His voice cuts the silence. And God, it’s so much deeper than before. “Tell me, love. Do you like having me here… watching you?” You nod. “Go ahead then. Play with them.”

You obey his command, gently pressing your fingertips against the buds on your chest and grazing over your nipples. Without realizing it, you squeeze your legs together. Carlos probably notices it because he moves in his place. When you look up, his hand is cradling his cock over the blanket. The power of his words and the sight of his hand on his cock are enough to make your breath hitch. You intensify your touch, tracing circles around your nipples, feeling them harden under your touch. Click. Your eyes never leave him as you continue to play with yourself, knowing you're putting on a show for him. The thought sends shivers down your spine and makes you wetter than before.

His hand doesn’t move too much, almost like he’s saving himself for you. You can see the tension building in him, the way his muscles are tense and his jaw clenched. It's a game of self-control, and you both know it.

"Spread your legs," he commands in a low voice. You obey without hesitation, spreading your legs wider and giving him a full view of your body. Click. "Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I want to be inside you."

The mattress shifts, and as you look in his direction, you can see him crawl towards you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there’s a hunger in his gaze that makes your heart race. Reaching for your chest, he kisses the spot your fingers are still pinching. He circles his tongue around your hard nipple, making you shiver, as if an electric current is flowing between the both of you. You arch into his touch, wanting more.

And then his teeth graze over your chest, ever so slightly, before he bites into it, making you gasp and whimper. The combination of pleasure and pain has you gripping the sheets tightly as he continues to tease and torment your sensitive nipples.

His hot breath is fanning over your face as he looks down at you, panting and begging for more. A smirk plays on his lips, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Such a good girl,” he praises, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, his tongue is demanding and forceful, exploring every inch of your mouth. You moan into the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as you desperately try to deepen the connection.

His fingers trail down from your chest to your stomach and then lower, slipping between your legs. The other hand keeps holding the phone, registering it. You take a couple of seconds to notice it, but you’re shaking. Burning.

“You’re so wet for me, baby,” he growls, before abruptly pulling away from you and returning to his seat. Arousal is dripping down your thighs as you watch him recline against the headboard. “Go ahead. Touch yourself.”

The memory of his lips and teeth seem to feed your body and arousal. You’re burning. The feeling of the sun on your skin only feeds that feeling. A warm tingling spreads through your chest and down to your core. You slide your fingers down. And God, you’re truly wet. You didn’t realize how hot this little game had turned you. You push your knees further apart, which earns a satisfied groan from your boyfriend.

"Do you want a photo of that too?" he asks.

You nod eagerly, feeling the heat radiating off your body. Without losing eye contact with him, you slide your fingers down to your throbbing center, spreading your folds and teasing yourself with light touches. His eyes are dark and intense as he watches you pleasure yourself under his gaze.

"Fuck," he groans, snapping another photo of your hand between your legs. You moan at the sound of his voice. "I love watching you, baby. You look so pretty."

Carlos repositions the phone to make you be right at the center. It’s a masterpiece. Your body fits perfectly within the frame of the phone. Your skin taken by the streaks of light, golden sunshine gilding your naked body almost like blessing the pleasure you're implying on yourself. You’d later learn that you looked unreal in those photos—something pulled out of a painting, shadows and light in perfect harmony. But in that moment, you just felt needy and desperate.

"Can I move?" You ask, your voice shaking with need.

"You can do what the fuck you want, baby," Carlos replies, his eyes never leaving you as he slides out of bed. You feel a surge of confidence and power as you take his spot, spreading your legs wide.

Your fingers slide over your wet lips, teasing yourself with light touches. Carlos sits at the end of the bed, watching intently. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on your juices and they sparkle in the light.

Your eyes meet his, and he nods encouragingly. You let out a breathy moan as you start to move your fingers in circles over your clit. The pleasure builds quickly within you, and you hear Carlos let out a low growl.

You slide two fingers inside of yourself, the wetness making it easy for them to slip in. You let out a loud moan around your fingers, imagining they're Carlos' instead. The thought of him filling you up makes your walls clench around your fingers.

You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, but you want Carlos with you. "Carlos," you cry out his name, hoping he'll join in and take over where your fingers are currently working.

But he doesn't move from his spot at the end of the bed. He continues to watch you with dark eyes, his hand still hovering over his erection but not touching it.

You can see the longing in his gaze and it only fuels your desire further. You want him desperately, to be taken by him until all sense is lost.

You call out to him again, pleading for his presence and touch. You long for him. His hand tightens around his erection as he struggles to hold onto control. Your eyes lock with his, and he lets out a small laugh of helplessness.

"Use your words, baby," he grunts. "Tell me what you want."

"Please, come here."

"Not yet."

"Can I?... Please? Can I cum?"

"Yes. Go ahead. Give in for me."

You comply, arching your back and pushing your hips forward. Your fingers glide in and out of your body at a rapid pace, your breaths becoming shallow and erratic. Carlos' gaze never wavers from you, and the sound of his gentle moans fills the room.

Climax is imminent.

You can feel it building, a searing warmth spreading through your veins, threatening to consume you completely. You know you're on the edge, but you want to prolong this moment, revel in the pleasure of it all.

When you open your eyes, he's standing by your side. The camera is focused on your face, but his eyes? His eyes are fixed on yours. All his attention is on you.

"I'm—," you gasp, meeting his gaze, your voice barely audible. “I'm so close.”

“I know, my love,” he whispers. Click. “Let yourself go for me.”

As the words leave his lips, you feel yourself start to unravel. Your body trembles with ecstasy as your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. You let out a guttural moan, your fingers still working their magic on your slick folds. It hits you like a wave, stealing your breath and lifting you higher, as you cry out his name and arch your back, almost like being pulled towards him by an invisible force. The camera continues to click as your body convulses, capturing every bit of your ecstasy, your face twisting into a mix of pain and pleasure.

As you come down from your high, you're aware of Carlos moving around the room. The bed dips slightly, and then he's beside you, his hand reaching out to touch your sweat-damp skin.

“Can you take me now?,” your voice low. “Please?”

Had this one in my mind all day so I just needed to sit down and write it down before it would vanish. I know I've been MIA, but I see all the support you keep giving me. You're all incredible. Hope you enjoyed this one silly thing. As always, all feedback is appreciated. 🫶

[ellievenus]

Horny thoughts. That’s it.

Characters: Lyney & Neuvillette x Gender Neutral! Reader.

NSFW! MDNI

A/N: I did the quest, they made me horny. that’s it, this is messy and not proofread so please ignore any grammar mistakes or typos. literally no plot just goes in.

Lyney is the type to like wall sex, like hold onto one of your legs and fuck you onto the wall as you try to stifle your moans under your shaking hands, as the people of fontaine move in the bustling streets while you’re getting your hole ruined…

he definitely puts a hand on your thigh, and winks at you before moving his hand up… up… and up to your sex at such a slow pace that it makes you want to grip his hair and yank his smug face into it and show him what happens when he teases you…

but you can’t, not when you’re having tea and macarons with Navia, and he fucking knows that, just smiles when you let out a gasp and Navia worries, asking if you’re okay. “Oh don’t worry!” he says, with his charming smile and a tinge of tease in his tone, “They just couldn’t sleep last night!”

and whose fault was that?!

you wish you could flip the table on him.

He loves going down on you, so much so that you’re starting to think he enjoys that more than fucking you… all whines, pleading for you to cum, he just wants to taste you, fucking drown in you until he forgets who he is, until his senses are nothing but you, you and you.

Grips your thighs, makes sure to keep his nails a little long so he can dig them in your thighs and hear you hiss, also loves grabbing your ass and pushing you even more to his face when you’re cumming.

Looking up at you with cum on his face or dripping from his lips or both, loves being branded by you.

“So that magic show special I was talking abou—“

“I am NOT letting you go down on me on a stage!”

Neuvillette only likes having sex in your shared bedroom, you can drag him to your bathroom if he’s in a good mood but that’s it.

Still, that man knows how to fuck all and any attitude from you, if you have any. Loves seeing you crying and begging if you’re so good for him. Either way, you’re getting overstimulated, he always makes sure you cry or beg in some form. He likes it.

He likes light bondage, loves cuffing your wrists, or holding your hands above your head while he’s giving you a pounding that makes you see stars behind your eyes and knocks all the air out of your poor body that you have to cry out for a break.

Loves seeing how your expressions change depending on what he’a doing, likes seeing your reactions, it gets him harder than anything else.

The way your eyes widen in surprise, letting out a gasp when he doesn’t stop fucking you after you both came, you whine and cry, you babble on about how can he not even lose tempo and keep going with his thrusts as if he didn’t just cum in you.

Cute. You’re so cute.

Also into spanking, if you want it, just tell him, you don’t have to misbehave. Though, he isn’t gonna fuck you until you cum on his lap from his hand striking your ass until it’s so sore and numb that you can’t feel it for a few days.