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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

Text

archives l Javier Peña

Summary: you shouldn't have met him there

Warnings: +18, smut, angst, swearing, sex without protection (don’t do that!),

A/N: I don't have much to say. I'll just leave this here. please be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

"Shit!"

You cursed quietly as the cardboard box you were trying to take off slipped out of your hands and fell to the archive floor, spilling its contents. Folders with carelessly written names, scattered pages of typescript, photos - all of this now lay under your feet.

You had been sitting in this dark and musty room for almost an hour, trying to find the documents you needed. But the number of shelves and bookcases made this place a real labyrinth. Your eyes slid over the names and places that the files lying on the floor referred to - still not that one.

Another dark alley didn’t look inviting, but you had no other choice. You strained your eyes when suddenly you heard a strange movement, and then a voice that sent shivers down your spine.

"A lonely woman in a place like this." someone tsk-tsked approaching you "I guess they don't teach you anything in this office, do they?"

You sighed with relief when you saw the familiar face of a man leaning against the shelf next to you.

"Javier. You shouldn't be sneaking around like that." you hissed. "What are you doing here anyway? It's late."

"I had some paperwork." he replied, his dark eyes shamelessly gliding over your figure. "I saw you left your stuff. I thought I'd look for you."

"Mhm. For what purpose?"

You saw the tip of his tongue as he licked his lips with it. "I haven't seen you in a while." he noted.

"I'm here all the time." you mumbled and averted your gaze to the shelves in front of you. Although you could see the letters that formed the descriptions of individual boxes, you didn't understand anything from them. The room suddenly seemed even more stuffy to you.

"I haven't seen you at my place." he clarified.

Something tightened your insides. You knew perfectly well what Javier meant. You knew it all too well…

For the past few months, you and Javier Peña had a certain relationship. It all started after one of the more brutal arrests. You were both stressed and overstimulated, and then something snapped and without knowing how you ended up in Javier's apartment fucking him on the couch.

No. You knew exactly how you ended up there. You weren't drunk, and neither was he. But then you had a few drinks and felt terrible guilt. Javier absolved you, and showed up at your place a few days later. And you fucked again, this time in your bed.

It was just sex.

To get rid of the pressure and stress. And Peña had a lot of it in him. Sometimes it was rough and strong, sometimes he used the time to play with you, like a predator before devouring its prey. But you didn't complain.

Only when you noticed that you were waiting for the familiar knock on the door, that you were searching for him with your eyes in the office, that you were sensitive to the sound of his voice - that made you think.

That's when you backed off. "This is the last time." You told him as you put on your panties. "I met someone. He's a nice guy. He works at the embassy." Javier snorted. He didn't believe that you could leave him. Not when his cum was still dripping down your thigh. But you left his apartment, the door closed, and that was it.

He saw you with that guy. Once in one of the bars. And he knew that you saw him too. That evening, for the first time in a long time, he took a hooker home. But she wasn't you.

You became his obsession. You were within arm's reach, and yet he couldn't touch you. And then he realized that it hadn't been just about sex for a long time.

He could see that you were confused. Your fingers were nervously tapping some rhythm on one of the shelves, your eyes were avoiding his.

"We talked about it." You finally answered.

"Yeah, I know. You have someone." Javier snorted "A nice guy from the embassy. Did you tell him about us?"

"There was no 'us'."

"So you didn't." A smirk spread under his mustache, and you felt like punching him in the face. "You're a naughty girl."

"Oh, stop it!" You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. "Don't act like a kid who lost a toy. You have plenty of them!"

Peña tilted his head, watching you carefully, processing your words. There was something hypnotizing about him. You saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed, his chest heaving with his steady breath. His eyes, dark as night, were still watching you, and you were slowly afraid to move.

Finally, you were the first to speak. "Listen, I don't know what you've got in mind, but I'm not going to get into this. I'm in a healthy relationship with a cool guy, you're not going to interrogate me now."

"A happy relationship?"

"W-What?" you stuttered, surprised.

"I'm asking if it's a happy relationship." Javier raised his eyebrows slightly, repeating his question, "You know, satisfying. Exciting. Arousing."

He said each word in a way that hit all your senses at once.

"A healthy one." You repeated, and he smiled again.

He took a few lazy steps toward you, his fingers sliding over the boxes on the shelves.

"So you're not getting wet just thinking about him?" his voice lowered and you felt warmth creeping up your neck "Don't you feel that pleasant shiver when he's close? Does he know what he has to do to make you come in just a few minutes? How long did it take us, hermosa? Four, or five?"

"You're an asshole, Peña!" you hissed.

"I am." he shrugged "But you felt good with me, didn't you? You were in my bed like that lazy kitten stretching in the sheets. Your thighs covered in hickeys. You had chaff instead of brains from how many times I let you come."

Every word he said struck those chords inside you that made your legs go numb. Peña was a devil in human skin and he decided to possess you. He was so close that you could smell the remnants of his cologne and cigarettes. This must have been what hell looked like. You were damned.

"I'm happy, Javier." you said quietly "He treats me well."

Warm fingers brushed a few strands of hair away from your face, running over your warm cheeks to your chin.

"That's good." he mumbled. "If he treated you badly I would have to kill him, cariño. But was I bad to you? Tell me."

Finally you looked into his eyes, almost defiantly. Javier wanted to kiss you right then, but he held back.

"So you tell me how you treated me, Javier." you said. "Who was I to you? A pussy on two legs that you had whenever you wanted?"

"That's funny." he laughed quietly. "You don't say anything about the evenings when you came to visit me." you swallowed loudly. "You were so horny then. So unsatisfied. You let me do such things to you..."

"Shut up!"

A sly smile appeared on his face again. You were already in a losing position. But suddenly Javier softened.

"Do you love him?"

"Please."

"Do you?"

"It's not that simple."

"Oh, it is. You see, baby, if someone asked me if I loved you..." your heart stopped beating for a moment, you listened to his words with horror "...I'd tell him to fuck off." You couldn't help but snort, and Javier smiled but didn't stop talking "But if I asked myself, do you know what I'd answer? I'd say you're a thorn in my side. You've dug yourself under my skin. You've made yourself at home in my heart. I'm pissed off when I see you with him. And when I think of him fucking you..."

His hands tightened on your hips. You were so stunned by his words that you didn't protest when he pulled you closer.

"Tell me that if I slip my hand into your panties, I won't feel how wet you are. This pussy knows she’s only mine. And I want you, all of you."

"Javier, please..." your lips brushed against his.

"What are you asking for, cariño? I'll do anything for you. Just tell me."

Tears pressed into your eyes. His words filled your head, reaching for everything you didn't want to feel. Fear followed right behind the desire, how much Javier had imprinted himself on your heart.

"Don't destroy me, Javier." You whispered as the first tear rolled down your cheek. "I couldn't be just your girl for one night anymore. It was killing me... The thought of never owning you."

"I've been just yours for a long time, hermosa. And I'll never stop being."

His lips crashed against yours so hard that you could barely catch your breath.

Your fingers slid into his hair as you pressed yourself even closer to him. God! You missed him so much. It was torture to work with Peña in the same place, when looking at him you remembered how his head was between your legs giving you orgasm after orgasm.

And now his tongue was deep in your mouth again, his hand tightened on your breast, but your moan was drowned out.

You felt the shelf behind you, and Javier's body pressed you against it hard, spreading your legs with his thigh. The hard bulge in his pants rubbed against you, making you feel hot in your core.

His lips slid down your neck, nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin. Your blouse and bra were pulled up to free your breasts. Hot lips sucked on your nipple. You rolled your hips to feel the friction, something to give you relief, because you couldn't hold it in anymore.

Javier overwhelmed your senses, and your body begged for him intensely.

"Just as I thought." he mumbled as your breast slipped from his lips and his hand dug into your panties. "You're wet. So juicy, hermosa. Just for me."

"Please, Javier, I want to feel you." you stuttered with difficulty.

You could see in his eyes that he was already on the edge. He was barely holding himself back from destroying you right now, in a second. But as your hands began to unbuckle his belt, he began to pull up your skirt.

"I want to feel that tight pussy again." he panted as he grabbed your thigh tightly and rested it on his hip, opening you up for him. "You were rude to take her away from me, you know? I was starving to taste her again." he pushed your panties aside and his fingers ran over your folds "Tell me you want me. Tell me you want me to ruin this beautiful pussy, hermosa."

"I want you, Javi." you whispered "I'm only yours."

"That's right. Only mine."

With one quick thrust, his hard cock slid inside you. You moaned loudly at the sudden stretch. Javir pushed himself all the way to the base, filling you up like only he could. You were pinned to the shelf behind you by his body, but you didn't mind.

Peña began to move hard. His hand gripped your thigh, and the other helped you stabilize. With each subsequent thrust, you felt like he was going deeper. His lips found yours, but they were just kisses stealing your precious breath.

"Fuck, you take me so well. You're made for me, baby." he panted as he pressed his face against your cheek "I want you all to myself again, to fuck you the way you like. To hear you scream my name until - shit - I fill you to the brim. You like that, don't you? You love the way my cum leaks out of you."

"I... I didn't let him." you replied, tightening your fingers in his hair "He never... I never let him cum inside me. Only you, Javi... Only you."

"Fuck! I knew it!" he kissed you hard, his movements quickening.

You couldn't pretend anymore. You were on the edge, and Javier wanted to push you off with great pleasure. His cock moved inside you, hitting the spot you needed.

"Cum for me, cariño! I want to feel you. I want to feel that pussy squeeze me. Shit! I’ve got you, baby!"

An animalistic moan escaped your throat, your nails digging into his shoulder. But Javier didn't feel any pain. He only felt you, saw only you. He saw your body trembling with the pleasure he gave you. Now his thrusts were stronger, but he didn't need much to come.

"Fuck, you're only mine. Only mine." he panted, hiding his face near your neck as his seed poured inside you.

You felt a twitch as he spurted the last drops, and then he stopped. This small space was filled only by your breath. You felt the sweat running down your back, Javier's hot body. And then he pulled out, leaving you strangely empty.

You adjusted your clothes as he buttoned his pants, and after a moment you felt warm hands cupping your face, his lips finding yours again. He kissed you slowly, tenderly, gently. Like a lover, not the man who had just fucked you in your office archives. Although maybe it was the same thing.

He rested his forehead against yours leaving you in a sweet distraction "I don't want you to slip away from me again." he whispered "Never again."

"I won't do that." you replied "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

"The sexiest I know."

He kissed you again and you knew what you had to do. You were scared but you knew that together you would do it. And after this all you had was each other.

And that was good.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal #javier pena x reader #javier pena #javier pena x you

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xeeljii · 2 months ago

Note

k or h for the prompt list??

Thanks for the letter! -`♡´-

────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

CW: 18+, f! reader, handjob, man boob & belly appreciation (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

praise — Joost comes back from tour, exhausted would be an understatement, he is completely burnt off, not just physically, which you can clearly tell by the way his shoulders slump, but mentally as well, it has been a hard one and you wanted to come but life happened in the middle. Sadly there was only so much you could do through the phone and while he was understanding you could clearly hear how with each passing day his voice got quieter, dimmer and more tired.

But finally he was back at home, back to you and the moment he passed the threshold of the door he all but melted into you arms refusing to let go even for a second. He is uncharacteristically quiet but you do your best to let him be and he will talk when he is ready. You have his favorite meal ready, he eats silently but hums softly as you tell him about what you did on his absence, he likes that, the sound of your voice is always like a soothing balm to his tired heart. When he finishes you run him a bath and follow right behind inside the bathroom offering to wash his hair, you help him undress softly slowly revealing every inch tender skin to your eyes, you have missed him so bad you feel heat settle at your core just at the sight of his plump skin so pale and covered in tattoos and beauty marks.

He lets you, sees the way your eyes linger over him, on the hair of his chest, on the fat of his belly. Your fingers melt on the flesh of his hips as you go to pull down his boxers you kneel in front of him and hold eye contact the whole time, maybe he just spent weeks performing for others but now you are performing for him and his dick twitches happily at the sight remembering just how much he had missed you. You raise again and grab at his neck pulling him down to kiss him, one hand holding onto his broad shoulders, he feels so tense still.

"I missed you." You confirm it for him, that you miss him as much as he does because you know sometimes when you are part for too long he gets in his head a little too much and starts thinking things that aren't real.

He chuckles softly, you know him so well. "Me too schat."

He grabs at your hips pulls you closer and takes a deep kiss from your lips, just trying to reclaim all the time he has missed your soft touch, your sweet taste, it is like he has been wondering the dessert for years and he finally has water again.

After a minute you pull away softly and motion him to get in the bath, he does. The water is so warm it immediately has him relaxing, you sit behind him on a small bench you have ready and start washing his hair, he melts into your touch closing his eyes as you scratch at his scalp and shampoo the soft strands of hair between your fingers, the roots are darker, the ends are still so light it is cute in its own way. You take your time with him not rushing and just letting his worries melt with the warm water as you rinse his hair.

He is rested against the edge of the tub his breathing is so heavy you think he must have fallen asleep you don't want to wake him just yet when the water is still warm, so you move your hands to his shoulders and softly start massaging. The muscle is tense, you can feel knots under your palm, your eyebrows knit in worry, there is so much strain still contained in his body, you wish you could make it all go away. You work your hands on his warm flesh softly, slowly with just the right amount of pressure so you won't disturb his sleep and right when you feel him calmer you place a kiss on the top of his head.

"I really missed you so much." You whisper against his hair inhaling the soft familiar scent of him.

Your hands travel down his shoulders caressing softly at his chest, the skin is so supple and wet, you feel his pecs are so soft and plump under your hands, he must have gained some weight and it is all the more appreciated when you feel how easily your fingers dig into the flesh. You splay your palms on his broad chest applying the softest pressure just to feel how tender it is under you, the hair there is wet and shiny, you run your fingers through it so lightly appreciative of the feel, you move your hands lower, your digits grace his nipples softly perking up at the touch, he is so pretty it hurts. You start kneading at his pecs softly then harder, you are fascinated by the give of the skin, your fingers go to catch a nipple and you pet at it softly just like he usually does to you pulling at the thin skin just the smallest amount so it won't hurt but cause pleasure. All of a sudden you hear him whimper and you move your hands away realizing how lost you got in your fun.

"You are feeling me up while I sleep." He mumbles, his voice is deep like when he wakes up in the morning. "Who was the pervert again?" He asks with a self satisfied smirk on his lips.

"You weren't really asleep were you?" You say mortified you got caught. You place your hands around his shoulder and hide your face on the crook of his neck.

He chuckles softly "No, not really, don't worry." He turns his head slightly to place a kiss on your temple. "But keep going it felt good." He adds. You nod and peel yourself off him.

Your small hands return to where they were, you start playing with his nipples more boldly it pulls the smallest sounds out of his pretty mouth, the softest sighs and most tender groans, the way he feels on you makes you want to bite down on his shoulder and you do, he hisses at that but you kiss over the skin and lick apologetically as one of your hands leaves his chest to travel south.

"You feel so good" You whisper against his hair, you feel his heart pick up at your loving words.

You feel the tender flesh of his belly so soft and so warm under the water you squeeze at it lightly and chuckle when he whines, he feels so good you feel yourself dampen on your panties at this alone, you wonder if this is also how he feels when he touches you.

"You are so pretty." You say softly pulling on his nipple, his chest expand when he groans.

"You are so hot Joost" You lick at the shell of his ear.

"You are so perfect for me, you were made for me." Your hand travels even further down you press your palm on his soft underbelly feeling the coarse hair on your skin before you grab his hardening length on your hand.

"You are the best, you worked so hard." You wrap your fingers around him feel him twitch at the added tightness.

"You did so good." He lets the sweetest sound escape him, almost like a mewl. He is so hard, you can already feel his pulse through his cock and you have barely moved it is your words alone that seem to be pushing him over the edge.

"I love you." You say as you start to pump him harder in your palm, he is breathing heavily, his chest is moving fast as he tries to keep it together. You are stroking his ego so good he will cum way too fast.

"I love you too." His words are so labored and deep you feel him twitching oh so sensitive against your skin when you twist your hand around his tip.

"I thought about you all the time."

"Yes?" He ask whinny little voice as his hips raise to meet your fist, the water moves it sounds like waves crashing on the beach.

"Yes, y ou are the only one for me." You start kissing on his neck as you still grope at his chest, he is feeling things he didn't think he could, the touch feels electric it has to be you he has never felt like this before.

"Close?" You ask so sweetly against his ear, he nods dumbly, he feels like you are speaking him from right inside his head, the way he only ever thinks of you you might as well live there.

He nods, bites his lip, feels heat building up from his core so fast.

"Cum Joost, cum for me". You kiss at the start of his hairline. "I love you so much." You whisper and he melts, thick ropes of white heat shoot from him, you feel his hot dick twitching against your soft hand as you still stroke him through his climax, when it gets too much you feels him pull away and you let go softly pulling your hand from out of the water.

You wrap your arms around his middle below his armpits you still want to feel his heartbeat under your palms, proof that he is really here and you didn't just dream him up.

"You are gonna have to shower again sorry." You say placing a kiss on his shoulder.

"Join me this time." He grabs at your hand and pulls it to his mouth placing a soft kiss over your pulse, you nod smiling so happily to have him back right now you will indulge him as much as he pleases and probably some more just for good measure.

#joost klein smut #joost klein x reader #joost x reader #joost x you #joost!ns/fw abc ⭑.ᐟ

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synamartia · 1 month ago

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☁ Tattoo { Adam x Afab!Reader } ☁ Content Warnings: Explicit ; 18+ Only ; MDNI ; Porn without plot ; Dry humping ; Not proofread, bit of a rush job ; Implied established relationship ; If I missed any, let me know! ☁ Author's Notes: I should be working on Kinktober fics right now, but this man has had me in a chokehold for weeks, and I don't know if I want him to let go, and it's all Barbie's fault (jk, love you baby)! Going through an emotional time right now, and what better way to fix that than with some mindless smut? This is for my darling wives and fellow Adam simps, Mink and Barbie, and a poor attempt at converting Hazel to the dark side. Joooiiiinnnn uuuusssss- *is shot* I regret nothing! Enjoy~! <3 ☁ Summoning: @hazelfoureyes ; @minkdelovely ; @sugoi-writes ; @fraugwinska ; @macabr3-barbi3

Egotistical was a bit of an understatement when it came to Adam. Dude literally believes he was god's gift to women, and in a way, he was. As the first man, humanity wouldn't exist without him, and he did more than just let that go to his head - he made it his entire personality. The seraphim appointing him as head of the Exorcists did nothing but exacerbate his already inflated ego.

And when you greeted Adam at the door of your shared home with his name scrawled across your left hip bone, curved letters thin and precise and oh-so-pretty even with the surrounding skin red and slightly swollen, you were unsurprised when his arrogance increased tenfold. A new sense of possession washed over him, causing the blood to rush to his crotch, cock stiff and straining painfully against his pants, all too eager to express his sentiments for such a simple act.

Which is how you wound up in your current situation, straddling Adam's lap as he lounged against the back of the sofa, large hands gripping your hips and deft fingers digging carelessly into your skin. If it weren't for the friction caused by your grinding and the shallow rolling of his hips into yours, you would have torn his hands away from the tender flesh - the pain adding a nice contrast to the pleasure within your pulsating heat.

"Fuck, babe. Didn't think it was possible for you to get any hotter," Adam mumbled against your lips, teeth crashing and tongues intertwined, swallowing each other's breathless gasps as you pressed your lower half down on his dick still confined within his underwear. You rolled your hips back and forth against his bulge, your bare wetness dripping down and staining the dark grey fabric of his boxers

The room was filled with your mixed moans, the wet smacking sounds of your kissing, the worn-down couch creaking beneath your combined weight with each desperate fraughtful motion. "I had a feeling you'd like it," you purred, voice low and lascivious as he pressed up into you, desire burning hotter and hotter when his clothed cock slid perfectly between your outer folds, the head catching on your exposed clit occasionally and dragging pleasure filled whines from you both.

You felt Adam smirk against your mouth, pulling away a couple seconds later to look up at you, hands guiding your movements, pupils blown wide in his glowing golden eyes. "Fuck yeah I do! Fuckin' love putting my name on shit," he told you, your short laugh turning into an excited gasp when he moved to flick his tongue over your pert nipple, soon taking it into his mouth and sucking harshly, one hand traveling up from your hip to pinch the other.

"A-Adam! Fuck!" you cried, your hips picking up speed as that heated coil began to tighten deep in your core with each stroke, each flick of his tongue. You grabbed hold of his hair, pulling roughly as your eyes drifted shut, head lolling back and exposing your throat to him. Adam knew you were close, evident by the way your cries rose in pitch and frequency, his cock twitching dangerously within its prison, reveling in the way your face scrunched up and your jaw fell open as the tension became more and more unbearable by the second.

"Just like that, babe! Fuck, don't you fucking stop!" Adam commanded, coaxing you closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy, his own orgasm barreling towards him. He moved up to press his mouth into the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth nipping playfully as he bucked up into you. "God fucking damn, can't fuckin' believe you did this for me, shit!" he rasped out, wrapping one arm around your waist and sitting up straight, his other hand digging harshly into the plush fat of your quivering thigh.

"Faster-!"

"Ohhh, fuck, oh fuck, gonna make me fuckin' cum!" Adam babbled, rolling your bodies so that you were the one pressed into the couch now, his hips grinding against yours, his shaft slipping between your slick folds. His wings spread open, muscles tensing and twitching in tandem with his stuttering hips as he looked down at your new tattoo once again. Overwhelmed with pride, the first wave of his release came crashing down, a guttural moan following the initial gasp of relief.

Sticky ropes of his cum coated the inside of his boxers and seeped out the fly, smearing against your heated skin as he tried to maintain his previous pace long enough to make you cum as well. He couldn't leave you high and dry - not after you went and did the sexiest thing he'd ever seen by putting his name on your body. Gaze shifting between your tensed expression and the tender skin of your hip, Adam brushed his thumb over the letters, a renewed vigor urging him on.

"You gonna fuckin' cum for me? Yeah? Do it, fuckin' do it, cum for me like a good little slut!"

"I- fuck! Like that! Just like that!" you whined, gripping the side of the cushion Adam had you pressed into, timing your movements to match his until that coil finally snapped, the force stealing your breath for a few seconds as you arched your back and your vision going white. You squirmed in his grasp; the overstimulation of him grinding against your throbbing heat and the sting of his thumb pressed against your fresh tattoo sending shockwaves of both pain and pleasure up your spine.

"A-Adam, Adam, babe, stop, I need a minute," you begged once you had regained enough of your senses to form a coherent sentence, panting heavily as you felt his comforting weight leave your limp figure momentarily. You turned your head and watched him as he stripped himself of his soiled boxers and kicked them to the side, his shaft hard once again, cum shining along the length of it in the dim light.

Yanking you to your feet in front of him, Adam bent down and wrapped his hands around the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up until you could hook your legs around his pudgy waist, using the crevices of his love handles to better hold yourself up. Adam delivered a single hard slap to your ass, laughing at the squeal of shock that left your throat as he turned towards your shared bedroom, the tip of his now freed cock brushing against your lower lips.

"Hope you called off, babe. I ain't letting you leave this place for a while."

#hazbin hotel #adam #adam x reader #x reader #adam smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin #hazbin smut

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burnyouwithacigarettelighter · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering if you do fluff/sfw fics, I love your writings! If so I would request some domestic fluff with one of cillians characters, I'm a sucker for that cute cuddly shit. <3

VISIONS OF SUCH SWEET DAYS ─── neil lewis 𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “I hold you like the first time. I love your heart and all that you are. When I think of us it seems absurd to not believe in eternity.” — a letter to Albert Camus, María Casares.

pairing. neil lewis x reader

summary. domestic headcanons w/neil lewis!

warnings. tooth-rotting fluff, married life, domesticity, mutual pining, bestfriends-to-lovers

word count. 2.4k

a/n. ik this probably won’t get much attention cus theres no smut but this was sm fun to write!!! tysm anon & im so sorry requests are taking long to do😭schools taking precedent for me atm! also this wasn’t proofread i apologize😓 lastly, the title is from “apocalypse” by cigarettes after sex :)

P.S. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR 2000 FOLLOWERS AHHHH I LOVE U GUYS SM!!!

Being in a relationship with Neil Lewis doesn’t change a thing at all. Your dynamic has stayed the same since you were just friends: you two were like an old married couple-- even before you did get married.

For years, it made Jonathan and Lucien wrinkle their noses, and you ponder about the matter often, how lovey-dovey you two had actually been without even realizing it…

🎬 you used to visit him at work with takeout after he complained about forgetting his lunch over the phone. he’d light up when you walked in, why’re you here?! on his tongue before you lifted up the plastic bag, and he’d smile that boyish smile of his, warm and appreciative and so neil, the same sweet neil you’d known since you were young.

“forget your lunch again, neil?” you’d grin. “i bet you could recite the seventh seal word by word but forget if you brushed your teeth this morning.” “you wound me!” he’d press a hand to his heart, theatrically pretending he’d gotten stabbed, “you don’t have to bet— i can recite the seventh seal word by word.”

🎬 when his washer broke, and he was too busy to get it fixed, you offered to wash his laundry for him. obviously, the thought of you handling his clothes — his intimates — had him mortified, so he suggested he just come over to yours and put a load in instead. still, the day dissolved into the two of you folding your laundry side by side, humming nostalgic tunes alongside your handheld radio.

“oh, god, change the station,” he’d groan, haphazardly tossing one of his newly rolled up tube socks into a plastic laundry bin. “hm? how come?” you questioned absently. “they’re playing that song, y’know— from homecoming?” “when that girl -- what was her name, again? -- dumped you?” “ugh, don’t remind me and please, just change it already!”

🎬 with adulthood came change, and honestly, the two of you didn’t get to see each other as often as you wanted, so neil proposed that you spend at least one night a week eating dinner together. once, you decided to cook instead of eating out, but neil got impatient. he wandered over to your figure in the kitchen, whining that he was about to keel over and die since you were taking so long. you rolled your eyes, but relented, holding up the wooden spoon and letting him taste-test, asking if it was too salty or too sweet. maybe it was because he was hungry, or your food was something so nostalgic and familiar to him, but he absolutely melted at the taste, singing praises the entire night.

🎬 sometimes you & neil’s movie-nights would drift off a little too late into the night, and the two of you would fall asleep on his couch together. you’d wake up, a strained, uncomfortable tangle of limbs and blankets, but you still felt right at home— snug against neil’s warm body, his familiar scent clinging to your skin.

🎬 since neil rarely got out of the house, you made it your mission to expose that man to the sunlight as much as possible; you didn't exactly want your bestfriend to get jaundice because he was binge-watching humphrey bogart's entire filmography for days in a row. you’d take him everywhere and anywhere: the two of you would go to the sunday farmers market downtown, looking at all the booths and tents laid out, buying fresh fruit and vegetables as opposed to, what you called, “overpriced, super-market big-box store garbage”, to which, neil would say, “is this a dig at me? because you know i’m terrible at grocery shopping, i cant help buying whatever’s easiest!”

🎬 other days, you’d walk in the park side by side, taking in the fresh air and throwing bread at ducks despite the DO NOT FEED THE DUCKS sign in bright yellow, snickering like school children.

“that one looks just like you,” you’d giggle, pointing at a particularly ugly looking one, flailing about in the water and splashing its siblings. “hardy-har, that’s very funny,” neil snorted, pushing you playfully. “jokes on you, it’s probably just like the ugly duckling.” “poor neil, is this your way of telling me you were switched at birth?”

🎬 sometimes, the two of you would sneak on top of your work building’s roof and, well, people-watch, picking a random person and dictating what you thought they were doing that day.

neil pointed at a lady wearing a furry wolf costume, and you filled in what you thought. “oh, oh, she’s going to her kids' birthday! the guy they hired to be a wolf didn’t show up, so mom decided to do it herself.” “good on her, but i don’t think it's her kids birthday she’s going to…” he trailed off, and you looked at him confused, before he gestured to the fur-suit-wearing woman entering a strip club. “huh,” you’d blink, “kinky.”

🎬 despite the confidence he projects at gumshoe video, considering he dresses up in some silly costume every week, the guy is absolutely terrified at booking his own appointments. it doesn't matter what it is, dental or medical or even a haircut, he stumbles and hangs up at the slightest rise of panic within him. its funny the first few times, but you could not deal with it anymore after he was sick with something he “didn’t know” because he was too nervous to call his doctor. you booked the first few, but then you taught him, shoving the phone in his hand and pantomiming what to do silently in front of him.

“uh, um, i’d like to book my - my-“ neil froze, mind going blank. you smacked your forehead lightly in exasperation, then pretended to inject yourself with a needle. “my, um, routine-- routine vaccinations!”

🎬 it took a few tries, but he finally got the hang of it— a big achievement on his part, but your number’s still hooked up to his dentist, so you have to remind him every time that he has to book his cleaning.

Nothing about your love has changed, not a single thing from back then, and honestly, maybe you loved him the whole time. Thought there certainly is a more romantic tone to your relationship now…

🎬 waking up next to neil might be one of the sweetest sights you’ve ever seen. usually, it’s him who wakes up first— he’s a light sleeper, while you sleep like the dead. your eyes flutter open, and there he is, piercing blue eyes drifting past your every feature. his gaze is tense and consuming but tender and loving all at once; you feel like he’s seeing through you, but it's in a good way-- you want to bare your heart on your sleeve for him because he does it for you. his hands are smooth on your side, holding you close, and he brings one up to cradle your face when he notices you’re awake.

“goodmorning,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “morning, you little creep,” you grin against his skin, “do you watch me every morning?” he rolled his eyes, “not every morning… i can’t when you go to work early, obviously.”

🎬 your wedding is the funniest thing you’re ever experienced. sure, most people want it to be beautiful and perfect, but you were content with anything— hell, neil could’ve married you with just his cardboard cutout of ingrid bergman as the sole witness and you’d still swoon. it’s funny because your families have this chemical energy about them when they’re together— they get along like a house on fire, and it’s just, seriously, seriously chaotic. all your friends being there doesn’t help either, especially when you were 99% sure your other best friend, violet, was pickpocketing the plus-ones you didn’t know.

“is that your aunt, or my cousin’s girlfriend?” neil asked in a whisper, taking a large bite of your red-velvet wedding cake. “i’m not sure…” you knit your brows, “but that is lucien asking for her number.”

🎬 you had gotten sick before with neil knowing before, obviously, but living with him while you’re sick means he makes it his personal mission to cater to your every need. he supplies you with dozens of pillows and blankets if you’re chilly, and will just as quickly fling them across the room if you break out a sweat. he’s by your side the whole time, even though you protest and fume that he’ll get sick too, but he says he doesn’t care, not when the love of his life is suffering. he’s so devoted to you, and it gets downright irritating at times like these, but you can’t deny how warm being showered in his love feels; being taken care of, doted on, his wide blue eyes peering into you for any sign of discomfort at all so he can quickly fix it.

just a single could i have some water? and neil’s hauling a thirty-six pack of plastic bottles into your bedroom. “just in case,” he pants, “dehydration’s a big problem when you’re sick, okay?!”

🎬 this man is a fiend!!! for spooning. little spoon or big spoon, he does not care okay maybe he likes being the little spoon a lil bit more he just adore having you near him. when he’s the big spoon, he pulls you real close, your face in the crook of his neck as he pets the back of your head gently, your arms wrapping around his waist. it’s the perfect angle because he gets to see your darling beautiful eyes looking up at him in the way you know he folds for every time. when he’s the little spoon, hes wastes no time in curling up against you, his head resting on your chest. theres just something so comforting about the position, be it your hands running through his brown locks, your legs hooked over his, or how his hands come up under your shirt and make you shiver, but you let it happen anyway, because you know how much he loves feeling your warmth under his fingertips.

🎬 neil is terrible, downright terrible at cooking… but he is a genius when the oven mitts come out! his silly little cinephile brain apparently made ample enough space for him to hone his baking skills, and when he’s not working or watching movies or cuddling with you, he’s in the kitchen, flour unknowingly on his face as he beats the living hell out of some poor egg whites.

“c’mere,” you usher him over, your eyes crinkling at his state: he was wearing a frilly hot-pink tartan apron with a heart-shaped chest — a gag gift you got him last christmas— while he piped chocolate ganache frosting on cupcakes. he drifted over to you absently, eyes still trained on the treats. they snapped straight over to you however, when you leaned in, presumably to give him a kiss, and instead darted your tongue out to lick the frosting on his cheek. “hey!” he gasped, face flushing as he scrambled to wipe away the saliva on his face. “you could’ve just said you wanted a taste.” “wouldn’t get such a cute reaction though, now would i?” you winked.

🎬 when a song comes on that doesn’t bubble up traumatic juvenile memories, you’re quick to clasp neil’s hand on your own, letting the music take you wherever, be it in your kitchen or at gumshoe video.

“dance with me,” you said, like it was a question, but already pulling neil up by the arm off your livingroom couch. your arms hooked around his neck as his hands rested softly on your waist, a familiar and comforting pressure on the flesh as you two swayed back and forth in tune to the music. “do we have a song?” you wondered, shifting your feet on the hardwood floor and looking up at him through your lashes. “the one from our wedding, probably,” he answered, “but this can be it if you want.” it’s some song you’ve never heard before, but its a good one, something you both like. “sure,” you murmur, turning to the side and resting your head on his chest as he pulled you close, swaying still. “i love you,” you said suddenly, and you heard neil let out a soft exhale of breath. “i love you, too. i think marrying you was the best thing i ever did.” “i think letting the weird new kid sit next to me at lunch was the best thing i ever did.”

All in all, married life with Neil is a dream, and entirely what you expected: you understand him like you do breathing. this love for him is innate, ingrained within you, and you know its the same for him— the love he’s shown you this whole time is the same pure thing, a tender and married adoration.

You know your husband so well you swear you could pick him out of a group by heartbeat alone; how it skips and stutters at the sound of your voice, how his heart pumps with a love only he can provide. There’s no-one else but Neil for you-- no one.

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #watching the detectives #neil lewis headcanons #neil lewis fluff

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djarinvibe · 10 months ago

Text

Oblivion (Javier Peña x F!Reader)

A/N: crawling out of hibernation to post a javi p fic before disappearing again. Enjoy!

Summary: After a one night stand with Javier, you come to learn you are pregnant. Angst ensues

Words: 6k

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), public piv sex, oral (f!receiving), a lil angst, swears -- lmk if i missed anything <3

Italics = flashback // masterlist

The heat of Bogotá was starting to make you senile, even while sitting in the DEA office that’s loaded with fans to circulate the stale, hot air. The papers filled with valuable information you’ve been staring at were beginning to strain your eyes, the small lettering from the typewriter swirling across the page.

You've been here for what felt like days, even though it's only been a handful of hours since you arrived this morning. The ashtray on your desk still emitted a thin line of smoke from the cigarette you had just snuffed out, and the coffee you brewed yourself a few hours ago had long gone cold from neglect.

Setting down the files in your grasp, your free hand rose up to your face, resting your head in your palm. Some days it felt like your job was impossible. No matter what you or your partners, Steve Murphy and Javier Peña did, Escobar always seemed to slink away just in the nick of time; even with the help of Carrillo and the search bloc.

It didn’t help that your mind was clouded by something else that happened just the night before. Something you never expected would happen since yours and Steve’s arrival to Colombia.

The two of you were both assigned to Escobar’s case and flew in together with Connie and their- now deceased- cat. However, you aren't from Miami like Steve is. You're actually from the west coast, Oregon to be exact.

“Y’alright, Darlin’?” You heard Steve’s voice across the room, prompting you to lift your head. The blonde, lanky man stood leaning against the doorframe to your office with a steaming coffee and freshly lit cigarette in his grasp.

“Just… one of those days.” You murmured, giving the man a faux smile before sighing softly.

“Are you going to tell Murphy?” Peña spoke after exhaling from a drag. He sat on the couch in his apartment, shirt off with his jeans still unbuttoned, staring down the bare skin of your back you had yet to clothe.

You scoffed, shaking your head while pulling up your pants, “Absolutely not. This was a ‘one and done’ type of situation.”

You slept with Javier on a whim; drunk, exhausted, and desperate to catch a quick release. Though after the two of you finished, it was a sobering experience to realize you had just fucked your coworker.

Since moving here and meeting him, you couldn’t deny that you’ve developed feelings over time; despite his reputation of sleeping around. Working long, late hours with him and Steve, you came to learn he isn’t as horrible as the gossips in the office seem to think he is.

But even with that knowledge, you couldn’t let yourself get hurt. Not by him. Not when you have to face each other at work almost every day.

“It’s only noon.” Steve smirked, raising the mug in his grasp to take a sip of the coffee.

“I had a long night.” You responded, eyes meeting your partners once again. You trusted Steve with your life. Being placed in dangerous, life threatening situations will make you feel that way about the people you experienced them with. But, you couldn't tell him that you and Javier slept together last night.

Especially because Steve has been teasing the two of you about your evident chemistry for months now; both him and Connie whenever the four of you would get dinner or drinks.

But you were firm on the idea that a relationship with him wasn’t going anywhere. Besides, as soon as Escobar was either jailed or dead, you'll most likely go your separate ways, returning to the home states you came from. And you couldn't let a relationship get in the way of your career.

You're still relatively young, having just turned thirty three months ago. You worked your ass off to be in the position you are now, a DEA agent, despite your field being mostly dominated by men. Misogynistic, dick-headed, men.

And you certainly weren't going to let one of those men- Javier, to a lesser degree- get in your way.

---

“I have to confess something,” You drunkenly slurred, looking at the woman seated on the couch next to you. Connie’s eyes widened as a mischievous, eager-for-gossip grin covered her face.

The two of you had planned a girls night on one of your days off. Constantly working and being around testosterone all the time was frustrating, so any time spent with Connie was cherished.

The two of you really became close on the flight from Miami to Colombia. Instead of flying out from Oregon, you first flew across the country and met Steve in Florida. After a few weeks preparing for your new assignment along with your new partner, you, Steve and Connie departed to Colombia.

“What?” She giggled, sipping the margarita in her grasp.

“I slept with Peña, like two weeks ago.” You murmured, watching the woman's face twist into all sorts of emotions, mainly shocked.

“Really?” She finally found the words to speak.

“We got drunk and it just kind of happened,” You shrugged, taking a sip of your own drink.

“Can I ask… How was it?” She giggled as she asked the question, a goofy grin crossing her face, cheeks heating up.

His rough hands grabbed at your ass as you rode him on the couch, skin slapping from how fast he was guiding you. You could feel every inch of his condom-covered cock fill you up, and only craved more as you feverishly rubbed your clit.

Your eyes met his own amongst the pleasure, making your chest flutter from the intensity and passion. He was hungry for your body; the taste, the feel. It’s something he's been craving for months; watching you parade around in your tight skirts. Steve gave him shit about it constantly, clocking nearly immediately how much Javier took a liking to you, but he always brushed it off.

“God, cariño,” He groaned, watching your breasts bounce. You bit your lip as he wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, switching positions so your back was now on the couch and he was standing.

His cock plunged back into you immediately, causing you to call out his name, nails digging into his arms which had moved down as his hands grasped your hips.

“Javi,” It was breathy and caused him to falter at how sexy his name sounded falling from your lips. He’s heard it a million times before, but not like this, not so needy and whiny.

It caused him to pick up his pace, watching your face twist with delight as he fucked you into the couch. Many women have been in this very spot, but you outstand them by far. Your pussy fit his throbbing cock like a glove, your breasts are the perfect shape and size for his hands and lips, your mouth did wonderful things as well. The blowjob you gave him before you fucked nearly made him bust like a damn teenager.

“Oh, you're going to make me cum,” Your voice rasped out of your throat as your nails dug into his biceps. This would be the third time he's making you finish for the night, a personal record. You haven't had amazing partners in bed in the past.

The familiar burn began to form in your lower belly, your nerves feeling as though they were electric. The man released his hand from your hip and moved it to your core, thumb quickly rubbing your clit in fast circles.

“Cum for me, hermosa,” He grunted, feeling your pussy clench around his cock. The sensation caused his own orgasm to begin to rush up on him, prompting him to thrust faster.

Your orgasm washed through your body as you moaned Javier’s name loudly, head tilted back into the couch cushions from the overwhelming sensation. You could feel the man's thrusts get sloppier until he too came, cock buried deep in your pussy with a groan, little whispers of praise leaving his lips.

“It was uh-” You paused, feeling your own face gaining heat at the memory, “Good. I'll tell you that.”

“I'm so happy that this happened.” Connie gushed, leaning forwards in excitement, “Steve and I have had a bet going on for months. He owes me five bucks.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, wanting her to relish in the excitement before you dropped the bombshell of reality onto the woman. As much as Connie and Steve- apparently- wanted this to happen, it just wasn't going to. You made that clear with Javier, now you'll have to do the same with them.

---

“Hey,” Javier’s low voice caught your attention, causing your stomach to drop. You’ve been avoiding him to the best of your abilities since that night seven weeks ago.

Not only because you slept together, but also because, just last night, you found out you were expecting.

The light knock on your apartment door caused you to jump off of the couch and rush over, pulling open the entryway. Connie greeted you with a pitiful, yet encouraging grin. You could see the brown paper bag in her grasp as she slipped into your home, walking past you.

“Do you really think it’s-” She began, walking until she stood in the living room while also handing you the bag.

“Yes.” You cut her off, opening the paper bag to reveal two pregnancy tests. You felt your stomach churn at the sight and swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up.

“What did you tell Steve?” You asked, looking back up at the blonde before treading over to the bathroom.

“He's not even home yet. Him and Javier had to go somewhere following a tip regarding Poison.” She shrugged her shoulders, sitting down on the couch. You chewed your lip, not only anxious for the result of the pregnancy tests, but now for your boys. You should be out there with them... but you're sick at home because of one.

You nodded even though she couldn't see and quietly stepped into the bathroom. It didn't take long for you to do what the instructions asked, anxious enough for the result.

When you flipped the two tests over, revealing little pink pluses on each, bile immediately rose to your throat, causing you to rush over to the toilet and release the contents of your belly.

Connie was quick to knock on the door before entering, rushing over to your figure and rubbing your back for comfort. Her eyes caught a glimpse of the tests, widening when she saw the evident positive on both, before looking back down at your sad figure.

“Oh, honey,” She whispered softly as you raised your head, tears streaming down your cheeks hotly. She grabbed some toilet paper from nearby and gently patted them away, hand cupping your cheek.

“I just… didn't expect this.” You sniffled, shaking your head “We used protection, I-” You stopped and shook your head, a fresh set of tears streaming down your cheeks.

You haven't exactly slept without anyone since Javier. Anytime you tried picking up someone at the bar after work, they just weren't the same. You couldn't even make it past a heated make out session before feeling the need to kick them out or leave.

“What's up?” You didn't dare look at him, your stomach still twisting. You kept your gaze at the manila file in your grasp, facing shelves full of boxes containing files.

“You alright?” He questioned, stepping further into the room, eyeing down your back. You swallowed, hearing his footsteps as they got closer to your figure.

“I’m fine, why?” You furrowed your brow, finally raising your head and looking over your shoulder at the man. He could see the emotions you were so desperately trying to hide, making his own chest ache.

The truth is, the night you fucked had also been stuck on his mind. And the obvious avoidance you've shown has been messing with his head. He understood nothing more was to come from that night in his apartment, but he didn't expect you to be so cold; even at work.

When he walks into a room, you leave it. And if you're sitting at your desks, you always make an excuse to go work in the conference room. Not just that, but you also won't even look at him half the time, and only address Steve when the three of you are standing together.

“No reason.” Javier shook his head, “Murphy just wanted to know if you found the file?” He quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I just found it,” You began, finding the confidence to turn around and meet his gaze, “Was just reading through to make sure it was the right one.” You noticed how close he’d stepped into the small room; nearly trapping you against the wall of files. It made your heart race and emotions run amuck.

This is why you had been avoiding him.

Early pregnancy symptoms have been kicking your ass. And having Javier there to rub your back when you felt cramps, or hold your hair back when you were nauseous hanging over the toilet, was something you craved.

“We should get back to Steve then.” The man commented. You nodded, eyes averting from his face to his chest. The shirt he was wearing had been unbuttoned dangerously low, making your cheeks fill with heat. You no longer had to imagine what his bare chest looked like, as you've already gotten to see it.

“Is there something on my shirt?” Javier's voice broke you from your memory, and you felt your face gain heat rapidly.

“No.” You quickly stuttered out, shaking your head, and pushing past him to get out of the corner he had trapped you in.

---

By sixteen weeks, your pants wouldn't button anymore, and your bump was getting less easy to hide. You had to switch to baggier blouses and stretch pants. Luckily, having male work partners, they haven't noticed your changing body yet.

It came as a surprise because you've since quit smoking, drinking, and caffeinated coffee.

Connie has been keeping your secret well. You begged her not to tell Steve until you were ready, to which she agreed. She understood you needed time to figure everything out. Being a single, pregnant woman is mostly frowned upon this day in age. Not that you care about that bullshit, but you don't particularly enjoy being the center of attention.

You also need to figure out if and when you are going to tell Javier. Deep down, you know you should. And if you end up getting sent back to the states because everyone found out, then that's fine as well.

Your plan was to stay and help as much as you could, until near the end of your pregnancy. When it reaches that time, you'll take maternity leave combined with your vacation days, and fly back home. After your baby is born… you don't really know what you're going to do.

A knock on your apartment door caught your attention, and you stood up, brows furrowing. It was late, close to midnight. You had gotten off work a short amount of hours ago, but weren't expecting any visitors.

You reached into your purse and pulled out your gun, making sure it was loaded before slowly treading to the front door. Looking through the peephole, your stomach dropped as to who stood in the hallway.

Unarming your pistol, you placed it back onto your purse before returning over to the door and opening it.

“Javier?” You had seen him at work earlier, but his sudden appearance at your apartment, blocks away from his own, was a shock.

Despite trying your best to ignore him earlier in your pregnancy, you eventually learned to push your feelings about everything to the back burner and only talk shop. No personal life was discussed, only work.

“I need to talk to you.” He spoke, brown eyes boring into your own. You felt your stomach drop, nodding as you stepped aside and allowed him in. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as soon as he walked by you, heading towards the couch.

“What's up?” You questioned, pulling your robe tighter around your body while watching him sit. You had gotten out of the shower only twenty minutes ago, and hadn't bothered to get clothed yet, save for a bra and underwear.

“I need to ask you about the coordinates to Escobar's current hideout.” He spoke, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his front pocket.

“Oh, um, please don't smoke in here.” You commented, swallowing heavily. The man gave you a quizzical look, tucking the cigarettes back into his pocket.

“Are you quitting or something?” He questioned.

“Something like that.” You spoke, sitting on the opposite end of the couch, “So, what questions do you have?”

“Carillo and the Search Bloc are going to drop into Escobar’s tomorrow morning. I'm having my informant confirm the coordinates once more, you should have yours do the same.” Javier answered, looking you down.

Seeing you there sitting in your robe, fresh out of the shower caused his heart to pick up and cock come to attention. Your cleavage had popped out, the robe slightly splitting open at the top when you sat down. He couldn't help but notice that your breasts seemed larger. Your legs were also deliciously exposed, and looked so soft.

The man just wanted to feel your skin; squish the meat of your thighs, kiss the gorgeous crevice where your legs meet your torso.

“I’ll get a hold of them.” You nodded towards him, “You came all this way just for that?” You then questioned.

The man muttered something about tapped phone lines- which you suspected was a lie- before asking if you had any liquor.

With a nod, you stood up and walked over to your kitchen, pulling a bottle of whiskey out the cabinet. You then poured him a glass before carrying both the freshly poured liquor and the bottle back over to the couch, placing them down in front of his figure.

Truthfully, you miss both drinking and smoking. But the health of your baby is more important than the poison you use to ease your mind.

Sitting back down, you watched the man take a hefty gulp before refilling his glass. You bit your lip, playing with the hem of your robe as the two of you sat there in silence. You were unsure of what to say, wanting to avoid everything besides work.

Your inner voice was suggesting otherwise, fighting for you to tell him the news. You know it isn't fair to keep it a secret, as he at least deserves to know that he’s going to be a father- Not that he has to stay and help raise the kid.

You have fully come to terms with the fact that you're going to be a single mom, raising the baby on your own.

“Javier…” You began, playing with your fingers. The man turned his gaze, searching your face, questioning as to what you're going to say. You took his silence as your signal to continue on, “Do you remember when we slept together four months ago?”

“How could I forget,” The man spoke, a smug expression crossing his face as he took a sip of his drink.

You rolled your eyes at his comment before taking a deep breath, “Uh, well. I-I think the condom broke.”

The man's cheerful expression quickly dropped into a serious one as he set the glass harshly down onto the table, standing up, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I'm sure.” You frowned in return, standing up as well and untying the robe to expose the small bump of your belly. You watched the man's eyes drop to your mostly naked body. He first stopped at your breasts, admiring how enticing they looked tucked in your bra, before trailing down to your stomach. He could see the shadow the bump caused, sending his heart into his throat.

“I found out at seven weeks. My period was late.” You broke the silence, retying your robe. “I admit I didn't know how to tell you- If I was even going to in the first place. But, I'm getting to a point where I can't hide it anymore. And…” You paused, swallowing, “You deserve to know.”

Javier only stared you down, resting his hands on his hips, “And you haven't slept with other guys?”

“No, I haven't slept with other men.” You felt hurt by his question even though it was reasonable. The two of you don't have a claim over the other, “I-I tried after our night together and… couldn't. I know that you're the father.” You brought your hand down to your bump. Your baby was still small, only being sixteen weeks along, but you have grown to love the thing with your whole heart.

“Look, I-I need time to think about this.” Javier muttered, shaking his head. You felt your heart begin to race at his comment, even though you'd already prepared yourself for heartbreak.

The man doesn't want to be tied down, he proved that by walking out on his wedding with Lorraine all those years ago, and the various women he circulates through in a week. You should've expected his rejection.

“I don't expect you to be a part of this.” You quickly spoke, trying to reassure him- and yourself, “I fully am ready to do it on my own. I have been since I found out. I won't tell anyone it's yours.”

He stared at you before nodding silently. This is certainly not what he expected when he came to your apartment this evening; he had different intentions. He missed you. He missed your body and the way you taste. The hookers and informants he's been fucking the last four months have been like dirt compared to you.

But now knowing that you were carrying his kid? It all felt so overwhelming.

“I-It’s probably best if you go…” You spoke so quietly, wrapping your robe tighter around your body, his silence beginning to make your heart race.

“Hermosa-” Javier began, but you saw him hesitate to speak. He only nodded and turned on his heel before stepping over to the door and leaving swiftly.

The moment Javier left your apartment, you couldn't stop the tears from spilling down your cheeks. You felt overwhelmed, sliding down the back of your front door after he had shut it, hands covering your face.

You felt guilty for kicking him out, and even regret it a little. Even though he told you he needed time, he looked so upset when you told him to leave. And what was he going to say just before exiting? Why did he stop himself?

You cried on the floor for god knows how long before making your way to your land-line, which sat on the side table next to the couch. You needed a friend- Connie- who usually made you feel better about the situation you're in.

The phone dial rang two times before someone answered. When you blubbered a somber greeting, you immediately recognized that Steve had answered when he questioned if you were alright.

“Steve,” You bit your lip, trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Can I speak to Connie?”

“She’s asleep,” His southern accent spoke loudly through your receiver, “Are you sure you're fine?”

you sighed heavily at his question, silent tears streaming down your face as you sat on the couch. You figured now would be the time to break the news. He’s become a close friend since meeting in Miami; both him and his wife.

“Steve, I have something to tell you.” You began with a sniffle, “I-I’m pregnant…”

Your partner was silent for several moments before he finally spoke, “Jesus. Does Connie know?”

“Yes. She helped me find out, actually.” You wiped your eyes before taking a deep breath, trying to calm down your emotions. The distraction of Steve was helping, along with lifting a heavy weight off of your shoulder. But Javier still lingered on your mind; his displeased face haunting the back of your eyes every time you blinked.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier? Does Peña know too?” Steve then questioned, causing your heart to wrench. A new lump formed and a fresh set of tears began to fill your eyes, spilling down your cheeks.

“Javier knows,” Your voice cracked as you spoke, “He’s the father.”

“Oh,” The blonde's deep voice came across quiet through the receiver of your telephone, “I’m so sorry.”

---

Bullets ricocheted across the surrounding brick walls, nearly hitting you as you quickly jumped behind a barrier. You could hear your partner yelling in Spanish from the rooftops, as he had taken a separate route, while you quickly hid from the gunfire.

Streams of silent curses left your lips, brick dust and chunks flying throughout the air from bullets. You could feel your heart beating against your chest, adrenaline pumping hotly, as you held your pistol in hand.

The gunfire finally stopped a handful of seconds later, but it was soon followed by the sound of a car peeling away down the street, causing you to peek over the wall. La Quica and Poison were gone and the street was empty due to the gunfire.

“Shit,” You cursed just as your partner approached the brick wall you hid behind.

“What the fuck were you doing?” Javier’s angry voice caused you to roll your eyes, reholstering your pistol before facing him.

“What?” You furrowed your brow in anger.

“You could've gotten hurt. You're not even wearin’ a fuckin’ vest.” He continued on, gesturing to the blouse donning your top. You merely stood and listened as he ranted. He never used to be this protective over you. Not even after you slept together and before you found out about your pregnancy.

“Why the fuck did you chase them?”

“We could've had them if you hadn't taken the roof!” You yelled back, arm raising as you harshly poked him in the chest.

Javier Immediately clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing towards your figure. You know he wanted to snap back vile words in return, but kept his composure. He couldn't bring himself to, not when you're pregnant, especially with his kid. He already made you draw the short straw, he didn’t need to cut it even smaller.

“Get your ass into the jeep.” He spoke through grit teeth, choosing to abandon the argument all together. You scoffed, kindling his temper even further. He needs a cigarette as soon as the two of you get back to the office.

“Peña told me about Poison and La Quica.” Steve’s southern drawl caused you to lift your head from staring at some paperwork.

“Did he also tell you about how he was a dumbass-”

“You need to get your head out of your ass, agent.” The blonde man spoke deadpan, cutting off whatever you were about to spew. He didn’t care, all he knew was that Javier had smoked four cigarettes in the span of an hour after you had gotten back. He finally confronted the man as to why the two of you were acting so off after your outing.

“Javier was scared. Though he may not act like it, he’s terrified of losing you- and the baby.” The man whispered the last part, knowing you haven’t told the rest of the office yet, “He admitted it to me just before I came to confront you. ”

You felt your heart clench, quickly averting your gaze from Steve, “I-I didn’t realize.”

“Peña may not have been the best choice to… procreate with. But, you’ve gotta throw him a bone.” Your partner mumbled softly, catching your attention once again.

“I’ll talk to him.” You swallowed with a nod, standing up from your desk.

“I’m sorry.” You immediately spoke once Javier had settled back at his desk. The man spent hours doing some meaningless task in the file room; most likely just to avoid you. “I haven’t been taking your feelings into account. I just… assumed you didn’t care.”

“I figured that was what you wanted.” Javier simply answered, eyes meeting your own. He leaned in his desk chair, arm draping over the backrest.

“No-” You quickly yelped, feeling your face gather heat, “I mean…Can we talk in the conference room?” You then whispered, suddenly so aware of your coworkers and how silent the office seemed. Nobody's eyes were on you and Peña, but you could tell they had purposely stilled their movements to hear better.

The man only gave you a simple nod, gesturing for you to lead the way.

Once the two of you had made it to the conference room, you quickly closed the door and blinds on the window-filled wall. The sensation of Javier's eyes on your back urged you to turn around.

“First, I want to apologize for acting like such an ass out in the field. I'm used to only having to worry about myself, and I wasn't thinking about…” You trailed off, hand hovering over your belly, “I should've been vested. And followed you onto the roof.” You added, finally making eye contact with the man.

He sat leaning against the conference table, arms folded which caused his biceps to bulge deliciously. You know if you weren't pregnant, he'd have a lit cigarette between his lips.

“I want to apologize too. I shouldn’t have acted out. I-” He cut himself off, standing up straight now, “I care about you, and the kid.” He gestured to your belly, glancing down. You had the bump hidden quite well under a flowy blouse, but even just knowing it was there caused his heart to pick up speed.

Unable to stop the smile from growing across your cheeks, you dropped your head shyly. He had spoken such simple words, but they meant everything to you. Never did you expect for him to say he was sorry, as well as admit emotion. It almost made you hopeful- but you quickly had to shut down that feeling, not wanting to get disappointed or hurt. You know that nothing is going to come from this. Javier is nothing more than your baby’s father. He’s probably just apologizing to keep you happy.

You then cleared your throat and met his gaze once more, having properly discouraged yourself, “So, are we good?”

“Yes.” He murmured.

You gave him one last nod before turning on your heel, approaching the door. Standing alone with him was beginning to feel overwhelming.

“Wait,” Javier interrupted your exit, grasping your bicep and pulling you back over to him. His other hand cupped your jaw in the process, pulling your gaze up to match his as his lips met your own with fervor.

Melting into the kiss, your arms grasped onto his shirt, pulling your chests taught. His arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up from your ass and quickling placing you onto the conference table just behind your bodies. Wrapping your legs around his figure, your hands moved up to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair.

“God,” Javier groaned against your lips, hands fishing under your blouse. Your body reacted delightfully to his touch, only yearning for more.

“Missed you,” You mumbled. Javier unhooked your bra and pulled it away from your chest, quickly cupping your breasts as soon as they hung freely. He could feel how swollen and full they’d gotten, only causing his mouth to water.

Javier then growled, fingers twisting your nipple softly, “I need to fuck you,”

His statement caused your pussy to throb, but you quickly pushed him away, “Not in the office.”

“Why not?” He frowned, head twisting in question as he stepped backwards towards the door, locking it, “Just need to be quiet.”

Biting your lip, your morals fought a losing battle as the man began unbuttoning his top and slowly stepping towards your seated figure. He returned to the same position he was before, securing your legs around his waist once more. He then guided your arms up, taking off your blouse, allowing your bra to fall off in the process.

You heard him softly groan at the sight of your breasts before he leaned over, lips meeting the delicate skin of your nipple, sucking and biting tenderly. Tossing your head back in pleasure, you felt as the man began to grind his hips into your own, hard cock pressing up uncomfortably against his tight jeans.

Reaching down, you rubbed him through the denim, causing him to falter in his movements, “Christ, hermosa,”

Finding the hem of your pants, the man slipped his hand in past your underwear feeling the full bush of your pussy before his fingertips met your clit. Accidentally moaning at the sensation, Javier quickly put his hand up to your mouth, covering it gently. Your arousal only caused his cock to throb harder.

Unzipping his jeans, he freed himself and gave his dick a few pumps, grumbling lowly, “Gonna fuck you,”

“Please,” You pleaded against his other hand, which was still covering your mouth.

Lifting your ass up off of the table momentarily, the man slid your pants and underwear down, exposing your pussy for him to enjoy. Mouth watering at the sight, he dropped to his knees, quickly dipping his tongue deep into your core. Biting your lip to repress the sounds of pleasure you wanted to spew, your lower belly grew hot with pleasure as Javier sucked your clit harshly and slid two fingers in.

“Oh- God, Javi-” You whimpered, one of your hands lifting from the table and tangling into his hair. You could hardly see him over your pregnant belly, making the reach a little difficult. The man hummed against your pussy, pleased with how well you were responding to him. Recalling the last time you had sex, your bodies naturally seemed to understand each other perfectly; and it seems it’s happening this time as well.

With his tongue working expertly against your clit, your pussy clenched around his fingers. He could feel that you were getting close to coming, and picked up his pace in combination with sucking your little bundle of nerves more harshly.

“Cum for me, cariño.” You heard Javier growl, just before you couldn’t take it anymore and felt your orgasm wash through your entire body.

The man wasted no time licking you clean before standing back up, quickly plunging his cock deep into heat. His hand covered your mouth once more, silencing the yelp of pleasure that was leaving your lips. Thrusting his hips, the man fucked you roughly on the conference table, causing it to shake with the movements. You could feel every inch as he did so, only adding to your pleasure.

Balancing your weight onto one hand, you moved the other down to your clit and rubbed feverishly, throwing your head back in pleasure. Clenching around the man's cock at the sensation, he groaned softly, faltering his thrusts slightly before continuing.

“Fuck you feel so fucking tight. If you weren’t already pregnant, I’d do it again.” He grumbled as one of his hands rested on your belly, helping move your body to the rhythm of his thrusts, “Your pussy feels that good.”

Your second orgasm caught you by surprise, the man's words luring you there quickly. Javier’s own orgasm followed closely behind, your cunt clenching around his cock, milking him thoroughly. His head tossed back in pleasure, continuing to thrust lazily until you both became too sensitive at the feeling.

“Fuck,” Javier cursed while tucking himself back into his jeans, still breathing heavily. His button-down remained open, deliciously showing off his gleaming, sweat covered chest. You paused at the sight, biting your lip, before slipping off the table and collecting yourself as well.

“We should get back to work,” You murmured, embarrassment slowly setting in, now realizing you just fucked Javier in a very inappropriate place. Anyone could’ve knocked on the door or windows; and what if it happened to be Steve or the Ambassador?

Instead of responding vocally, Javier only nodded, eyeing your frame up and down as he buttoned his shirt back up.

#javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #javier pena smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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infiniteimaginings · 7 months ago

Note

i absolutely LOVED your freddie benson fic and i was wondering if you could write some sort of fluff for spencer? 🙏🏾🙏🏾

Why I Don't Give Up (Spencer Shay x GN!Reader)

Summary: You visit your boyfriend while he's working on one of his sculptures, and he tells you why he keeps going even if a lot of people don't believe in him. Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: None Word Count: 1.8k A/N: I'm glad you enjoyed it! Here's some Spencer love for you!

It was a typical Wednesday afternoon in Seattle where people would just try to get on with their days. Some were just waking up in their apartments, wondering what they would even do, others were at school or work.

You were currently walking through the lobby of an apartment complex, beelining to the stairs. Your hand was covering the side of your face as you walked, praying that the doorman wouldn’t see you. Your prayers were not answered because you heard the man clear his throat loudly to grab your attention, you could have ignored it if it weren’t for his blazing stare into the back of your head that urged your body to react with a flinch.

You slowly turned with a plastered smile on your face, hands behind your back as you walked to his desk, “Good Afternoon, Lewbert.” You greeted him, your voice slightly strained.

The man looked at your boredly, cheek twitching as he idly tried not to scratch it. You tried your best not to stare, averting your gaze to anywhere else, feet kicking at the ground.

Lewbert sniffled a bit before he turned around and picked up two packages, roughly placing them on the counter, “Since you’re already going up there, go ahead and take these before I keep them for myself.” He grumbled, leaning back in his chair to place his feet on his desk.

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes and took the packages, looking down to who each was addressed to before making your way up the stairs. You didn’t try to say goodbye to the doorman as there was no point, he would act like he didn’t hear you anyways.

You went up the stairs and before knocking on the door you were originally going to, you turned to the one across the hall. You placed the top package down gently, knocking a bit to alert the Benson residence that their package was in front of their door.

You turned back to your original destination and decidedly just opened the door. Most people would care if you just walked into their house without knocking, but the man who was sat on his couch looked up and his eyes lit up like a christmas tree when you appeared.

You breathed out a chuckle at his expression and closed the door, still holding the package, “Delivery for Spencer Shay?” You read out from the package playfully. The brown haired man stood up and raised his hand, “Wait that’s me!” He laughed, standing to walk over to you.

Spencer stood in front of you, cupping your face to pull you in, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Thank you.” He mumbled to you, taking the package from you to place it on the coffee table. You hummed and walked with him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he opened up the box.

It wasn’t anything special, just a few supplies for a project. You weren’t exactly sure what his project was, he didn’t give you many details, but you knew you would enjoy it just as much as he did making it.

Spencer turned around, hugging you tightly before telling you to take a seat so he could finish making the lunch he planned out for you guys. You nodded and sat on the couch, almost sinking in from how soft it was to your back.

The coffee table had drinks on it, some art supplies, and a plethora of opened letters. You picked them up and began going through them, it wouldn’t be the first time, Spencer never minded. Besides, you sometimes had your mail delivered to his apartment as you were there half the time.

None of these letters belonged to you though, they were all addressed to Spencer from several galleries, art shows, etc. You began feeling bubbles of excitement in your chest as you began reading, your eyes scanning the papers for good news but instead you were met with…

‘The artist shows enthusiasm but their execution falls short of gallery standard. The subject matter is cliché, struggles to communicate, and fails to provoke meaningful engagement.’

‘The piece is utterly amateurish, devoid of any sort of artistic merit. It’s embarrassing that this was submitted.’

‘There is a lack of understanding of the basic principles of composition.’

‘There’s plenty of room for improvement. They could refine their techniques to convey the vision better.’

‘The artist has used materials for an interesting dimension, enhancing points that viewers may not have initially drawn focus to. Experimenting with different materials was compelling, but it didn’t encourage the viewer to look deeper. It could be communicated better.’

‘Everything clashes, though the artist was bold for that.’

‘The execution lacks everything needed in art, there is no focus. There is complete inconsistency, there is nothing that brings my attention to the piece. It is completely looked over, which is not what galleries look for.’

Your frown deepened as you read from letter to letter, these were harsh criticisms. You weren’t exactly an artist, so you didn’t know if this was typical engagement from galleries, but either way it felt a bit much.

You were so invested into the letters, you didn’t notice Spencer had walked up to you, two plates in his hands. He noticed you were reading the letters but he didn’t react much, he’s read over those letters over a hundred times, nothing in them was new to him. He simply placed the food on the table and sat next to you, you didn’t react to the shifting weight on the couch which was partially concerning to him.

The hazel eyed man took his thumb and smoothed out the creases made between your brows from how you had them furrowed. You jumped a bit at the sudden contact and looked over to him, “Hey.” You mumbled to him, placing the mail back on the table.

“Hey.” He responded, looking at you with a slightly weak smile.

There was silence between the two of you, neither of you knowing what to say at that moment. Due to the silence, Spencer cleared his throat and grabbed the plates of typically unnatural food combinations that were still somehow the most delicious delicacies you’ve ever had. You thanked him and ate quietly, still not speaking.

Spencer didn’t immediately start eating because he was staring right at the letter on the table. He ultimately sighed and put his plate down, “I know they’re pretty harsh.” He laughed out and you hummed in agreement, no smile on your face.

“They are.”

He nodded at your comment, scrunching his nose, rubbing his hands on his knees. “I’m used to them, trust me there are piles and piles of them in my room.” He explained to you, looking at you with the hope that you would give him a grin, you didn’t. His smile died down a bit due to your lack of reaction and he chewed the inside of his cheek.

You put your plate down and frowned at him, “You’re used to it?”

“Yeah, the life of an artist. You have to get used to criticism.” He explained, shrugging and knowing you weren’t used to anyone receiving so much of it at once.

You blew air through your cheeks, “If you’re getting so many of these letters, then why do you….” You trailed off, putting your face in your hands, upset at yourself for even thinking the way that you were.

Your boyfriend gently placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles on it. “Why do I keep going?” He finished your question for you, it was a question that everyone has asked him, he was also used to that portion of being an artist.

You didn’t look up but he knew that was what you would’ve asked.

Spencer gently pulled at your hands, causing them to be removed from your face, and he began rubbing your knuckles with his thumbs. You were finally making eye contact with him and you could see how his eyes sparkled when you met eyes with him. He pulled you into a gentle hug, your ear leveled with his chest to hear his rhythmic heartbeat.

“I keep going because no matter how many people put me down, you’re always there to put me back up.” He spoke quietly, rubbing at your back. “I could receive thousands of these a day and the only people's criticisms that would matter to me are yours and Carlys.” He told you, kissing the crown of your head so gently, as if you would break if he pressed any harder. “No one else matters to me, because as long as I have you guys, I can keep going without giving up.”

Once he leaned back on the couch, just for a more comfortable position, you finally looked up at him, your chin resting on his chest so you could look at his face. His ears were slightly red, but other than that he wasn’t showing any signs of sadness, disappointment, etc. When you looked at him his grin just widened, his eyes filled with light, and you could feel his heart begin to race.

He took a deep breath, “And I know that when a gallery accepts my work, you guys are the only reactions I’m going to care about.” He explained to you, his voice soft as he took one of his hands to trace your features.

You didn’t know what to say, because Spencer always said the most beautiful things that just took your breath away. You placed your hand over his and moved forward, gently placing your lips on his. He kissed you back, holding you delicately as if you were his greatest gift.

Once you pulled away, your noses grazed each other, “You’re already the greatest artist I know.” You mumbled to him, eyes barely open as you laid on him.

He didn’t respond, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, holding you tightly, never wanting to let you go.

Once the two of you finished your moment, you pulled back and continued eating, talking about anything and everything. You brought up the topic of his new project that he didn’t tell you about and he nodded, food filling his mouth.

After he finished, he stood and wiped his hands on his pants, rushing to the kitchen where he pulled a sculpture on a rolling platform to the living room.

You finished your bite of food and rushed to stand in front of the tarp covered project. Your hands clasped in front of you as you waited for it to be exposed.

Spencer warned you that it wasn’t finished yet, to which you understood. He pulled the tarp off and at the bottom was the title of the work, ‘An Artists Biggest Critic’. The sculpture was a mold of Spencer himself, covered in some of the letters he received from galleries, making it show that his biggest critic is himself.

It was beautiful, you knew it would be even more beautiful when it was complete, and all you could do was stare in awe. Spencer was really going to make a name for himself, and you couldn’t wait for the day to come.

#icarly #icarly x reader #spencer shay x reader #Spencer shay #nickelodeon x reader #nickelodeon #Infinite Imaginings

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machapelady · 5 months ago

Text

Bake me a Bun

Soap/Retired!Soap x f!reader Fluff with a slight suggestive line, daydreaming, get this man a baby. Mild stalking(?) I do not know if I should be continuing this ^^ (There will be eventual smut if I keep writing this, also might end up adding some TW because we all know what happens when you tell stories about wounded soldiers) Divider credits go to @vibeswithrenai , lovely work, I recommend checking them out ^^

Johnny is at his roots, a family man. Scottish mead flows through his veins, so does the sweet pie his grandma used to bake.

Before retiring, Soap liked to spend some of his 'vacations' with the whole MacTavish family. Lunch here, brunch there, and kids that flap their pa's kilt just before dinner. He would play chase with the wee lads, loved by his nephews and known as 'Big Uncle'. Often carrying two rascals at a time, or letting losing against them on a hand to hand battle, he was a truly warm and homecoming man.

"John, when ya givin' me sum' wee bairns?" His nan would often ask.

To what his answer would be, between gritted teeth "No bon, no bun, nan. Army giv' no time f'tha"

And so then, he was shot.

Retirement didn't treat him that badly, just gave him a rather permanent headache and a scar on his temple.

Doctors told him to stay put, to enjoy his free time on the hospital' open gardens, the oxygen would do him good they said. But Soap was not a man that would be sitting there, staying still after years of battlefield, movement and stress.

Yet, after trying to get away a couple of times and finally sat down by Price, he took the orders and stayed put like a good kid.

He owed Simon one. The man had managed to push him a fraction away from the bullet trajectory, earning himself a sprained ankle. He would often visit Johnny when free, although for a brief time, dropping telltales of what the squad had been up to. Gaz was the one to stick around most, nagging him about finally being out of the hellhole that being a SAS operator was. They would watch their football together, until nurses told him that they needed to do a check-up.

On a rare sunny day, the whole squad visited him. Price had brought a letter from Alejandro, wishing him the best recovery, and to visit whenever he felt like. The wind almost blew the paper away, sitting in a bench under a tree.

"Bet ya miss us son" John muttered, a tired smile on his face. Soap groaned, rolling his eyes, "honestly, I think I prefer t'share some sweat with yall, rather than this hell of a cell" Even Simon laughed at that.

" 's no sunshine 'round. Bloody white walls fucking strain my eyes every single damn day" He would keep complaining. "I don't miss ya nagging tho" Ghost quipped teasingly.

And so they laughed, walking around looking like a group of old childhood friends that threw shit at each other, being Gaz the one with the most pointy comments "I can't fathom sleep without ya snoring Soap"

Something bumped against Price, earning their stop and a tiny, quiet "sorry" from a tiny, young voice. It was a young lad, no more than six summers at his back. He looked rather scared; faced by an old man, a wounded soldier, a guy with only his eyes visible and a piercing gaze under a cap.

Price squatted "No need to be, lad. Where's ya mum?" The kid shook his head and pointed to a woman, not far away from their position, that was surrounded by kids. She seemed stressed, looking around with wide eyes until she spotted the young boy.

"Oh Matt! Don't go running away like that you little rascal!" She rushed to the kid, and made eye contact with the Captain. "I'm so sorry sir, can't really keep all the kids still sometimes"

"Visit trip?" Price tilted his head slightly, to what she nodded. "We like to show the young ones to respect the injured" Her smile was almost as warm as the sun that day. "They gotta learn more than numbers and letters in school after all"

She took the kid away after apologizing once again, urging the little one to go back with the whole group, that she graciously guided around the hospital garden.

A second pair of blues followed her around as she went by, earning a chuckle from Kyle "Looks like he has a reason to stay here now"

"Hells Bells" The only thing he could say.

For what he could see from his room's window, it was a whole week of field trips for different classes.

To his eyes, she paraded around with the kids, with a sweet smile and warm eyes, showing the little humans things around, be it the entrances, the pond, or making small talk with some old lady that was condemned to stay her last days in that white prison. Like he felt, incarcerated for his health, until the doctors decided his wound and other past poorly healed injuries would not hinder him from having a "normal" life from now on.

For you, you were trying to show the kids some hospitality, to be respectful and appreciate the healthcare and what it could do for the people. For them to listen to the old tales of those veterans in life, or to enjoy the breeze and the grass after walking around for a long time.

Johnny was mesmerized. Completely lost in those warm expressions you always had dancing on your face, or in how you guided the children with caressing palms. Maybe it was the ring of your voice, that now rose above the constant tingle of his newly acquired wound, or the manners that you carried around. He felt strangely isolated in the room, a constant need to go outside and enjoy the grass, of course he wasn't trying to get a chance to talk with you.

Right?

So there he was, again in a bench. And that day he decided to hang his dog tags around his neck. "What a show-off" Simon groaned before saying goodbye couple of hours ago. "Don't come sulking if you scare her away you mutt", and a pat on the back.

It was the same boy as the other day, the one that approached him mesmerized by the shining plates on his neck. Matt sat on the floor, inquiring about what did Johnny do for a living. 'What is that? What do you do? Oh that's so cool!' he would chirp here and there.

Johnny couldn't really say no to the wee thing in front of him, puffing his chest and sharing some of his less-bloodied trips. The puff was taken down by a sudden nervousness when he saw you approaching again.

"Matt how many times do I have to tell you not to go astray from the group" She came already scolding the boy. "Oh, you are from the other day, right sir?"

Ah, she remembered him.

"Just doin' me time in here for a bit" Johnny answered with a boyish smile. "Can't blame the wean, he was all giddy 'n' interested"

"And what might that interest be?" You squatted a bit, poking Matt's cheek. "Miss. L/n this is Soap!" Oh, he got your last name now, maybe Laswell was willing to do some digging as a reward for his honorary actions right? Did he just call you Miss? That in his mind was a Jackpot. "And what does...Mr. Soap do?" She looked at him from bellow, her eyes flickering to his dog tags for a second. "I just tell old tales of sweaty men trying to save the world"

You weren't able to peel Matt from his spot, resigned, decided to indulge in some old stories, bringing the whole group so they could all listen to a veteran's yapping.

"So my mate, you see, big scary man with a mask" He would say, "took'em all down real fast i'm telling ya"

His eyes would often flick from kid to kid, landing on your face. To his delight, you were also caught in his stories, attentive eyes and full focused on how his mouth moved.

"And I was all alone! Havin' to scramble what I could! Bad men trynna catch me but I'm telling yall, nobody cannae stop the Soap" The boasting was impressive. How proud Johnny was of his doings, how he managed to tell his story in Las Almas without mentioning the cartel, or the corruption. "Even took a bloody bullet!" He pointed to his fresh scar, still healing. And that's when he saw your eyes turn somber, rather cold. "Alright kids, Mr. Soap here has lot's of stories, but surely that means he's very tired right? Let's go visit more places around!" After insisting a bit, you peeled the children away from his circle and quickly whispered to him with a disappointed gaze "I do have no doubt on what you did to protect people, but please, showing wounds and violence to children is not appropriate"

When you turned away, he sulked. He had fucked up. Ghost was right, he showed off too much and fucked up big time. He wanted to chase after you, to grab your wrist and apologize. To promise not to use those marks again if it meant seeing your bonnie face.

Yet knowing it would only make it worse, he silently went away, locking himself in the white room and not letting the nurses come in.

"Fucked up" He told Price. "Bonnie thing didn't like when I told the bairns about the bullet"

He earned a sigh, and a folder on his lap. "Didn't Simon tell you to slow down? I'm glad you still got some energy in you, son." Soap cursed under his breath, taking the folder and giving it a quick read. "You know me Sir"

Your whole legal name was there. Education, birthplace, family. Everything. Just a normal civilian, with a normal job. A teacher, the daughter of a warm family.

The folder didn't explain your charming eyes, or the small smiles you would make when a child showed you something. The information didn't do you any beauty, and he was pissed.

He had to hear it from you. Your own name, then his. Then again his name between some whispers or whimpers even. Not long after, Price took him for a walk, trying to pull him away from the constant frown that adorned his forehead.

It was Friday, he could tell you were a bit more energetic than the past day. Guessed it was the last visit you had to bring to the hospital, the last time he would probably see you if he was the one to respect boundaries. But what boundaries if he already had your address and identification number.

"You thinkin' about her still?" Price inquired, sipping on some cheap tea from the cafeteria. "Can't shake it cap. I just cannae. I gotta go tell her I'm sorry or sumthin'" He crossed his arms on his chest, right leg nervously bouncing under the table. "You seen how she look' with the bairns?" That earned a chuckle from the older man.

And bless the heavens he thought, when you entered the room with the group of children, dividing them in groups around multiple tables and asking the barista to make around thirteen milkshakes. You stayed on the counter, counting each quid to later report it to the school.

Price stood up, gave Johnny a pat on the shoulder. "Second try won't hurt you more than the first" He walked away, leaving Soap to shed his personal coat, turning into the homeboy Johnny once more.

"Hey"

You sighed, looking at him. "Sorry 'bout the other day. Got carried away" he mumbled "thought wee things would like something more...thrilling"

"Still not the best thing to say"

"I ken"

"They kept repeating your stories after that." His eyes flickered "Even started calling the other patients by 'sir' or 'ma'am'" Finally you met his eyes, hiding a shudder under your skin feeling like he was seeing right past your soul with those blue gems. This of course didn't pass by him.

"Ya enjoyed 'em?"

"Perhaps"

He leaned in a bit, not yet getting into your space, but enough to give you a tiny whiff of his soft scent. Was it citrusy? Warmth was on it, a little bit fruity but not overwhelming. You could swear there was a tinge of all-in-one shampoo too.

"Okay, yes. I liked your stories." Finally surrendering to his observing gaze, you relaxed on the counter a bit, the barista slowly pulling out the milkshakes. "Still, too bloody for some group of children"

"Hm. You know, even me ol' boss scolded me" The most heavenly chuckle swarmed his ears. "The man with the hat?" Johnny flashed a smirk, eyebrows gathering in the middle giving you an apologizing look and offering you his hand "Johnny's the name"

Johnny helped you bring the milkshakes to the tables, and again started telling his stories. This time with your consenting look, avoiding violence or blood on them.

There was a tiny difference now. His eyes weren't the only ones fluttering between the children and you. Lost in him, in his pearls, sometimes having to scramble your brains to understand his accent and phrasing. Unable to keep eye contact for long, covering your flush by turning your attention to the kids.

You couldn't really lie, he was charming. A warm smile and soft, piercing eyes. A voice that was like silk, but sometimes rugged, unable to ignore how his hands, rather calloused, accompanied the movements of his voice. The dog tags that he still wore, now tucked under his shirt, chain making waves over his collarbone, adorned by a thick and strong neck.

He seemed less proud, and more invested into the stories now. It wasn't about boasting anymore, but a constant fight to keep the kids hooked, and subsequently you too. He bathed proudly on how your cheeks would rose up a bit, or how you fidgeted with the soft fabric sometimes tracing the figures of the funny and childish patterns you wore. He wanted to up the tone, to impress you more like a bird trying to court his counterpart.

But he was a trained man that rarely made mistakes, a quick learner on top of that, not hitting the same rock twice.

Time passed, milkshakes were empty and some kids couldn't keep their eyes fully open. With a rather tired voice, a little raspy from the constant storytelling he chuckled at the wobbly tiny heads in front of him.

"Tired them all" You softly smiled, exhaustion also apparent on your face.

"Do I pass the test, Miss. L/n? Stories good enough?" He leaned slightly against you, a friendly shoulder bump earning another holy chuckle from your lips. "I give you an 8, missed some staging".

"Oh lass, I cannae be doin' backflips and shi- stuff" He corrected himself and tapped to his temple, the scar now healing better "Quite rude to be askin' tha' from a poor wounded soldier"

With a smile, you dismissed him and woke up some of the kids, telling them it was already time to go back home. Some of them whined, wanting to listen to more stories, trying to make you promise for it, something that Johnny eagerly supported, teasing you a bit. Others were completely fried, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Before leaving the cafeteria, you turned around and thanked him. "Johnny, right? Mine is Y/n" Oh but that he already knew, although it didn't bother him hearing it from your mouth.

What he didn't know was that you would visit him next Monday, taking with you some homemade buns you had made, showing gratitude for his help the past week.

Maybe he didn't fuck up that much, and maybe he could win you over by winning over the kids.

And he was good with children.

#cod x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #cod soap #johnny soap mctavish x reader #tf 141 x reader #cod #soap cod #johnny mactavish #fem reader

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loveackermannn · 2 years ago

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☰ LOVE YOU. LOVE YOU SO MUCH. –.ೃ࿐ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧.

when levi loves, he loves intensely, passionately, wholeheartedly.

his love for people in general may seem very subtle, but underlying his cold exterior, he has a heart as big as the universe – it must've been because of his soft spot for his mother and the love that she always showed for him had stuck as he grew up.

when he surrendered his heart to you, though hesitant at first, he trusted you more than anyone to have the privilege of intertwining your soul with his. levi is a soft, but rough lover. while he's more of an acts of service man, there are other components in your relationship he lacks in but it doesn't mean he won't try for you.

he never raises his voice at you, he doesn't have the heart to at all. whenever he's on a mission, he'll write a letter every night without fail – always signing off with 'yours forever'. he does his best to verbally reaffirm you too, even if it's not his forte. he definitely gets better over time.

"sleep well, my love?"

"don't strain yourself too much, let me help you with that."

"you're so beautiful. i like that dress on you, wear it for me again hm?"

it's hard for him to be physically intimate at first and you fondly remember the times when you needed to initiate any form of contact with him whether that was holding his hand when he did paperwork, resting your hands on his shoulders after a long day at work, threading your hands through his hair during the late hours of the night – he honestly craved it so much. but, he couldn't be selfish. as generous as you were to him, he was just the same.

while he didn't have much growing up and didn't have much to offer for you, he would do anything to give you the world with his bare hands, rip the stars from the sky, pull oceans apart for you to roam the earth with your existence. he loves you like no other.

and it doesn't just stop there, he will make it very clear just how much he loves you.

☆ — 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @luvjiro , @youre-ackermine , @lovolee3 , @notgoodforlife , @averysmolbear , @bejewelledd , @leviismybby , @evas-leslas , @roseofdarknessblog @cometlevi , @21aurora (! ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝💌)

#chaloveslevi #shitrambles #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi heichou #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman headcanons #levi scenarios #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagines #levi fluff imagine #levi comfort #aot levi #snk levi #levi ackerman x reader

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nortonluv · 1 month ago

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The Knight and The Florist.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from an Idv fic. (Fairly short)

Richard Sterling x fem! Reader

---

The Florist. Y/n L/n. Recently dragged into the claws of Oletus Manor by a mysterious letter supposedly telling her of clues of the location of her missing brother. A boy so young when he was stolen from their mothers arms, the girl had barely understood the severity of the situation until she watched her family succumb to an illness that she was immune to.

How will her first meeting with the equally as new "Knight" go?

---

Matches. Games. Decode. Run. Hunters. Survivors. All key words I must remember. I must. One wrong move could cost me and the other survivors our winning matches, the more we win the more we get in return. Or so I've been told by Lily. She's a sweet girl who means well, energetic, maybe a little peculiar.

What if I fail my match. Who will come rescue me. I've been teamed with the other newest survivors, they likely will not be as experienced as the players who have been stuck here for years. No, they simply won't be as experienced. I cannot be fully sure I won't fumble and lose us a match. I do not even know how to play these games, decoding seems simple enough but what do I do if the hunter finds me? I can supposedly contain the hunter but I do not even know how to, I can even support people in some equally as unkown way. Oh how I wish they'd put me in a practise match where there would be no rewards, no consequences. Just a bit of practise.

My breathing becomes heavier and my room suddenly feels a lot smaller. I can't take it. Out.

Get out.

Leave.

Run.

Hide.

A ring of black takes the edges of my vision as I sprint towards the garden area of the manor. The flora and fauna will comfort me, surely. They wither quickly, like my family did. I'm safe with them. In my rush, I fail to notice the taller figure of a man in front of me as I enter the greenhouse.

My head smacks straight into the figure's shoulder, he grunts and turns with arms outstretched as though to catch me should I fall. I don't fall but I do stumble back in my panicked shock and take in his appearance. Long, dark hair, heterochromic eyes of blue and brown, a lean build. He's incredibly handsome, and the beauty mark just below the left (my side) side of his mouth adds to his looks.

"I-" My words fail me as I stare at the man in complete awe. He's the even newer "Knight" I suppose. A moment of stunned silence overtakes us. The greenhouse calms as though even the plants were riled up by the outburst before calming with my own heartrate. "I'm so sorry." I finally blurt out.

The man doesn't seem to particularly care, almost apathetic even before realising I'm apologising. "Oh. It is no issue, I suppose I was the one blocking the doorway." He bows slightly before returning to his towering height.

"My name is Richard Sterling. I have been dubbed, The "Knight", of these games. If it is not too much to ask, would you be able to tell me what this entails?" His tone is sincere and face although fairly flat, there is a slight upturn to his lips. The sense of dread fills me once more as I realise he's asking for advice. Advice I cannot offer.

"I'm very sorry Mr Sterling. I, myself have not been present for any matches yet. I am able to show you the schedule however if you would like? I saw that our first match would be together I believe, so we can learn together." I try to pull a kind smile onto my lips and it works as he smiles in return.

"Yes, I would like that miss..?" He holds his arm out for me to take, I wrap my arm around his and begin to lead him.

"Y/n L/n, The Florist."

What did I come to the greenhouse for again? I strain my memory to try and remember but all I see is the embarrassing but enjoyable first meeting with Richard.

---fin.

Something short and sweet, I have more ideas for these two that I wanna get to working on. REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW PEOPLE START SENDING THEM IN PLEASSEEE I BEG.

#idv #idv knight #idv richard #idv richard sterling #idv x reader #idv knight x reader #idv richard x reader #idv richard sterling x reader #The “knight” and the Florist

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gingergofastboatsmojito · 5 months ago

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Like clockwork

Knowing that I nailed every single prediction except the awards bc the time span covered in S3 was too short for the restaurant to even be considered for one (YET) and the apology, which he thought about making to C but chickenshit at the last minute forcing her character to lurk around a little longer next season, unfortunately.

And also knowing that S4 (which I always considered ENDGAME) might be finally the one where they get those awards and end the show on a perfect note, makes me incredibly happy because even though I do think S3 is the weakest so far, I also fully expected everything that happened in it, except the low Sydney screen time, compared with the excessive Faks screentime, which was the biggest bummer of all times.

I think that Storer is straining along the “non-Sydcarmy” narrative in the right-hand column and leaving about a million Sydcarmy breadcrumbs in the LEFT-HAND COLUMN, so he’s putting all the money on the endgame and that is why most people, including critics, and non-sydcarmy truthers feel underwhelmed after all the build-up excitement and high-expectations that had been forced around it. The critics are mixed, BECAUSE you didn't get exactly what you wanted, both truthers and anties, whereas I got exactly what I assumed I was gonna get from Storer, a TWIST that he will resolve in S4.

As I always said, my ONLY priority is getting my SYDCARMY ENDGAME, not putting Syd’s happiness above all, not even the restaurant getting a star, although IK it will at some point, not even Carmy finding happiness in any other place that is not that meadow Sydney. Etc. I don't play that game. I only want those things to happen in a Sydcarmy context, hopefully, but not necessarily, explicitly, not in a Lalaland kinda way.

What Storer did was open the game enough for a potential Clairmy endgame to happen, which last season seemed impossible, now he forced the narrative to make it fit in S4 if he wanted to. That’s why everyone is soooo underwhelmed, except me. Because I trust my intuition in the left-hand column which is what allowed me to nail all the predictions so far to the letter. Including Carmy being an ass to Syd and Syd not going anywhere, even when offered a way out of The Bear (the restaurant and the man).

And due to this accuracy in predicting Storer’s behavior, I still, like always, feel Sydcarmy is a S4 dish. Fully endgame material. Nothing has changed for me after watching S3. If anything, that belief is even more cemented in my mind now.

Storer is still right on schedule and the Sydcarmy clock started ticking more than ever, exactly as I anticipated HERE. I even nailed the "no sorry sign" thing, which is what we need to watch for in S4, as soon as it happens, we will be out of the woods.

I don't come from a place of wanting to get my needs met or wishes granted by someone as cruel and infuriatingly brilliant as Storer, that would be too naive on my part. I know what to expect when it comes to his writing and he's the Zodiac Killer for me, he can write the perfect crime, and the perfect plot and twist it in ways I can anticipate but no one can control in terms of layout and order but himself. He's a perfectionist and a control freak, incredibly talented piece of shit(sounds familiar?). So I work with what he serves me. I expect from him nothing but asphyxia first, to then give me breathing room for a few scenes, and then take it away. That's what this season was. The chokehold. The lack of oxygen. He's depriving us or making us think he will "on the table", while "under the table" the conversation or unspoken dialogue is the following:

Syd didn't sign The Bear's agreement, and neither did she sign the poaching contract, she's stalling both because she leads with her heart, not her head, which woulda made her get the hell outta the restaurant that has her name nowhere to be found in the reviews that are all about Chef Berzatto, where her business partner is a fucking robot she "can't babysit anymore" and who explicitly told her he's about to crack and where she dreads going to work every day. I mean NOT EVEN THAT CAN MAKE HER SIGN THE POACHING OFFER. I wonder why...

Carmy is still breaking the vow he made to Syd under the table: "You deserve my full focus". He's focusing on getting that bullshit star for her, he's focusing on the bully chef that used to torture him in EMP and ruined him mentally (because according to him it's that asshole's fault, not his own upbringing, and responsibility for having stuck around his bullying and not standing up for himself back then) while Syd is seating right next to him and Luca is flirting with her (I'm OK with that btw) and he's still blaming other people for the choices he made or the things he FAILED to do, instead of taking full responsibility and changing them, which I'm sure he will in S4 and I never expected him to do now because that process IRL for anyone takes YEARS, maybe DECADES, so...

And lastly, we have Chef Terry being the one who tries to open their eyes with her wisdom and they are both still blinking and being blinded by the brightness of it, they still can't see clearly what she's trying to tell them. Especially Syd, who had a full-on panic attack (her getting stuck in a walk-in while everyone else was on the other side of the door moment exactly as I predicted too). Why would she have that if that wasn't her realization moment? → THE ONE WE, SYDCARMY TRUTHERS HAVE BEEN FUCKING PRAYING FOR AND WILL HAVE TO FORCE HER TO FINALLY FOR THE LOVE OF DOG MAKE HER FUCKING MOVE!!!!

So summing up, like I said, I don't come from a place of expecting Storer to please me, my approach to anticipate his moves is asking myself: How can I get what I want while he gets his way because he will get his way regardless, so why fighting him? He will make me suffer, he will play every single string of my heart and he will make me think I've lost all hope and that is not even worth keeping on trying, on the surface. But under the surface, he will prepare THE TWIST and it's gonna be beautiful, and if I play my cards like this, fully expected. That's exactly what I did and what I got, the thing is that this was THE TRANSITIONAL SEASON, S4 is the RESOLUTION of all loose ends because it's ENDGAME. He's right on schedule as far as I'm concerned.

Bonus track: Sydcarmy breadcrumbs he planted: * Menu (heartshaped and best meal Syd ever had) → which is MEAT. * Her panic attack in the hallway after thinking of Carmy and all the history they have together. * Cicero and Nat asking her to sign the agreement once and for all, THEY ARE ASKING HER TO ENTER THE FAMILY, not just the restaurant. * She not quitting, even though someone offered her an easy way out on a silver platter. She can't quit The Bear, and I'm not talking about the restaurant. Even if she eventually does, Storer made it clear that her heart is not in it, she doesn't want to, otherwise, she would have done it by now. * Carmy NOT APOLOGIZING to Claire. Even if he eventually does, Storer made it clear that his heart is not in it, he doesn't want to, otherwise, he would have done it by now. (He did call her "peace" though, which was a cruel way of Storer giving us truthers the middle finger for having told him that the panic attack scene was his way of telling us SYdcarmy was endgame). We shouldn't trust this, Storer is Storing. * Lastly: In the final sequence (CLIFFHANGER), Carmy gets the reviews that will make or break The Bear, which leads to S4 → if the reviews force Cicero to pull the plug, Syd is free to sign the new contract and start over elsewhere. If the reviews are great (they are not because the menu was called INCONSISTANT) then he has a reason to go to Syd's place and show her they made it! Either way, in any of those scenarios he has the perfect motive to jug all the way to Syd's apartment and find her in the midst of her panic attack and CONFORT HER, which I think will be the opener of S4 and then the whole ENDGAME will go from there. This endgame will include Syd signing something that will tie her to Carm. And this endgame will also feature "Andrea". My only fear is: LALALAND ENDING, and I'll tell you why → COPENHAGEN+CLAIRE. Knowing that MG was with JAW in Copenhagen a few weeks ago, I'm sure that shooting some scenes, even though many said they didn't I still believe they did, leads me to think that Carmy, who is reminiscing of his time in Copenhagen like one of the most beautiful times of his life, can go back there with Claire after apologizing to her and rekindling their flame and after Cicero pulling the plug on The Bear letting Syd off the hook for her to pursue the other option presented to her. This will mean Carmy ends with Claire in Copenhagen somehow, sketching and maybe even fully leaning into his artsy side, who knows? And Syd gets her Star elsewhere, which she will find underwhelming because she wanted to get it with The Bear (the restaurant AND the man). This will pave the way for them to give themselves a second chance eventually if Carmy ever comes back from Copenhagen and chooses her over C. Or something along these lines but not necessarily in this order. Either way would explain JAW and C being in Copenhagen recently and would be a Sydcarmy endgame but bittersweet, not spoonfed and cruel, just like Storer likes it. I hope I am mistaken about this since the Lalaland kinda ending is my biggest fear and it's still fully plausible given S3. Still, sometimes I'm wrong... like when I thought that Richie was gonna quit on Carmy after the walk-in fight and he just stayed to spite him and make his life miserable LOL!

#gingerpovs #the bear season 3 #the bear season 4 #the bear meta #season 3 #sydcarmy endgame #sydcarmy #the bear

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