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honeyedmiller · 2 months

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When in Positano | Javier Peña

javier peña x f!reader

rating: 18+, minors do not interact

warnings: light alcohol consumption, smut (fingering, f & m oral receiving, unprotected piv, major breeding kink, ass slaps), talks of starting a family, an insane amount of fluff, javi is a romantic at heart, bits of spanish with translation, frequent pov switching, no use of y/n.

word count: 6.1k

synopsis: honeymooning in italy with your husband is a dream, especially when he reveals he wants to start a family with you.

a/n: this has been in my wips / drafts since january- and then i ultimately decided to change the whole plot of this bc i've been in a soft mushy mood for husband x reader lately. shoutout to @ilovepedro (ily) for beta'ing this baby for me. hope you enjoy <3

It was times like this that you could hardly believe this was your life.

The morning sun had shown her golden rays through the linen curtains that danced with the wind, illuminating your villa brilliantly. The first thing you get to see when your eyes flutter open is your husband, unknowingly basking in the golden light of the morning.

You stretch your sore limbs, the glint of your wedding ring in the light catching your attention. You can't help the smile that spreads across your lips, eyes shifting down to the man next to you once again.

You study his peaceful features as if you were sketching him from memory — tan, warm skin; dark, thick hair; a mustache that always tickles the tiniest bit when he’d kiss you anywhere on your body; a strong, angular nose; long lashes that fan his cheeks; and plush, pink lips that were slightly parted as he breathed steadily.

The only thing you miss dearly in sight at that very moment are his beautiful brown eyes. The same eyes that had you hooked from the very first time your gaze fell upon them.

Your eyes travel down to his muscular arms — the same arms that always hold you tight and protect you, all the way down to his torso and his naked, but covered, lower half.

Your eyes snap up to his gorgeous face once more, reaching your hand out to trace featherlight lines over his smooth skin. You cup his cheek, leaning forward in the slightest to kiss his nose. His brows scrunch in reaction as he finally stirs awake.

He groans softly as he instinctively wraps an arm around you, bringing your bare body flush to his. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles in your throat, taking advantage of your proximity to him as you start peppering kisses all over his face.

You pull back and he peeks one sleepy eye open, a half smile immediately forming on his face.

“Buenos días, mi amor.” [good morning, my love] He whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Buenos días, mi esposo.” [good morning, my husband] You beam, and he gently grabs your left hand — the one that decided to caress his face once more — and looks down at it with pride, seeing the wedding band and engagement ring together. It’s something he’ll never tire of.

“Still can’t believe you said ‘I do’.” He chuckles, bringing your hand up to his lips so he can kiss your ring.

“I’d say those two words in a million lifetimes with you, Javier.” You whisper, and his soft brown eyes look up at you in pure adoration.

“Mi vida.” [my life] He shakes his head in disbelief, an undeniable grin etching itself upon his plush lips.

You said I do to each other just seventy-two hours ago, and you both have been luxuriating in the blissful feeling of forever.

Javier surprised you with your dream vacation destination as your honeymoon, and you cried in happiness on your twelve hour flight as you both made your way to Italy.

You don’t know what you did to deserve such a man as Javier, and you truly don’t think you’ll ever comprehend how you got to marry him. What you do know, is that you’re the luckiest woman alive.

Little do you also know, he feels the same exact way about you.

“I love you.” The words flow naturally, easily, and he gives you a look that makes you want to give him the whole universe. Fuck, if you could, you would.

This man—the man that has endured so much in his past, only to open up his heart to you and only you—to protect you, cherish you, and love you the way he does, is a man that deserves everything gracious and peaceful this world has to offer.

And if you told him those exact words, he’d kiss you searingly and tell you that you are his grace, his peace, his god-given solace. You are the reason his heart beats, his days are brighter, his world spins on its axis. You’re everything to him and he’d show you time and time again just so.

“I love you too, cariño.” [honey] His voice is softer, a voice only reserved for you. Underneath the harsh exterior and the stern brow he always wears, there’s a softness that he carries when it’s just you two in the confines of your own space. You always greet him at the door when he comes home, pressing a kiss between his furrowed brows, wrapping your arms around him before telling him “welcome home.” He always relaxes under your touch, and knowing you’re his peace makes pride bloom in your chest.

Your heart aches in the best way possible with how much you love your husband, and your faithfulness and devotion to him will never, ever waver.

Javi buries his face into your neck and leaves a trail of kisses up to your jaw, mustache hairs tickling your skin as he nibbles on your chin playfully.

“What’s on the agenda today, baby?” He asks, hand gliding up the soft skin of your torso, thumb brushing just beneath your breast. The ghost of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you grin lazily as you look at him.

“I was thinking about the street market we passed yesterday, and maybe a new restaurant?” You say, running a hand through his thick brown locks. You twirl a longer piece at the nape of his neck around your finger, and he begins to kiss your collarbone languidly.

He hums in thought, kisses trailing down to the swell of your breasts. You cradle the back of his head gently, not particularly wanting him to stop, but also aware that you should really get out of bed and enjoy the beauty of Positano while you can. Your fingers release his head and skate down to his back, gently double tapping the space between his shoulder blades.

“We should really get up, amor.” [love] Your tone isn’t convincing enough even to yourself, and Javi rests his chin on your sternum as he looks at you with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes.

“Can I enjoy the sweet taste of my wife first?” His tone is more of a statement than a question, and you can’t help but laugh at his eagerness. Truthfully, if it were up to him, you two probably wouldn’t leave the bedroom very much in the week and a half you get to spend here. To you, Italy was paradise, but to Javier, you were his.

He could spend days with his face – or cock – buried between your thighs, savoring every moment of your addicting taste and tight cunt.

“Only if you let me pick the restaurant.” You negotiate poorly, and even then, Javier sports a grin that lights up the whole room. The sun and her radiance doesn’t even nearly hold a candle to your husband’s smile.

“Deal.” He murmurs, lips marking their territory down your sternum. Before he gets any further, he kisses both of your breasts before enveloping a nipple into his mouth. You suck in a breath at the feeling, the sensation shooting straight down to your already needy and aching core.

Something of a whine escapes you, tugging on his hair as you arch your back off the mattress. You can feel his smug smirk against your skin before he switches sides, relishing the other pert bud before letting go with a small pop.

The anticipation is building up much quicker than you expected, and you’re squirming beneath Javi as his lips ghost your stomach, moving down the bed before uncovering your bottom half.

A lazy grin appears on his lips as he takes in the sight of your puffy, glistening pussy, ready for his tongue to drink you up like you’re the finest nectar on the planet.

Javier tsks at the sight teasingly, swiping his middle finger through your folds, preening at your receptiveness to his touch as your hips buck toward his mouth involuntarily. “Now who made my beautiful wife this wet and needy, hm?” He asks, moving his face down to kiss the supple skin of your thigh before biting down gently.

You yelp in surprise, looking down at him only to find him sporting a shit-eating grin. The word wife makes you even needier, loving the fact that you belong to him.

“You, mi corazón [my heart]. Solo tú.” [only you]

Javi closes his eyes at the endearment, nestling his cheek to your thigh as he breathes in a few times. He feels like he’s in an alternate reality where his dream woman just dropped out of the sky, and he gets to spend the rest of his life with her.

But this is real, you’re real, and he nearly has to pinch himself to prove that you aren’t a figment of his imagination. He gets to spend eternity with you, and he deems himself the luckiest son of a bitch alive.

He opens his eyes and his gaze meets yours once more, and you can’t help but reach out for his face. You look so ethereal to him as the golden rays fall upon your body, making you glow like a goddess. Your head is back against the pillows as you watch him with an adoring gaze from above, and he truly has no words to ever conjure up just how much he loves you.

And, for a moment, as he’s watching you watch him, his eyes flicker down to your stomach. Javier never thought he’d be a man who wants to have kids in his life. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d ever be able to get married, let alone to a gem such as yourself.

You’ve given him a softer life; a life full of love and happiness—a complete one-eighty from his time in Colombia—and a house to call a home, albeit you being his home no matter where you two are. You’d also be the one to be able to give him the ultimate gift: fatherhood.

He sweeps his reeling thoughts to the back of his mind for now, his main focus averting back to you and pleasing you until you’re screaming his name.

With that thought in mind, he wastes no more time before he gives your pretty, glistening pussy a kiss, delving his tongue into your folds right after.

You gasp at the sensation, eyebrows pinching together as his muscle works your nerves expertly as he’s done countless times before. He traces the tip of his tongue through your folds, up to your clit and flicks it a few times before moving back down to your entrance. He prods the muscle inside and dutifully fucks you with his tongue, the pace delicious as his nose bumps your clit repeatedly in the process.

You grip onto his hair, hips bucking into his face in tandem with the stroke of his tongue.

You can’t help but cry out his name repeatedly, and he feels prideful that he’s the only one that can make you feel this good.

Javi’s mouth separates from your dripping cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with the taste he loves oh so much.

“Taste like a dream, muñequita.” [doll] He breathes, sliding his hand down to grip your thigh as the other toys with the slick on your pussy. He kisses your thigh again and he looks up at you trying to catch your breath. Your head already feels fuzzy at the immense pleasure your husband’s tongue brings you, and to top it off, he slides his middle and ring finger into you.

He keeps his eyes on your face and watches as you unravel, pumping his fingers in and out of you. He makes sure to curl his fingers to hit the very specific spot he knows you like, and when he does, you lose all resolve. You crumble under his touch as your arousal seeps out of you and down his fingers, coating his wedding band in your juices as they flow down to his wrist.

“So fucking pretty, baby. You like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asks, and you nod without hesitation.

“Words, corazón.” [heart]

“Fuck–fuck, yes, Javi, oh, god-” You cry, and he squeezes your thigh before diving back down to lap up your pussy once more. The combination of his tongue and fingers is absolutely lethal—you know you aren’t going to last much longer.

Javier is the matchbox to your match, dragging, dragging, dragging you along. The coil in your core is wound up so tight that within seconds, you break and light aflame.

You cry out his name, the sound of your own desperate plea reverberating off of the four walls of the villa’s bedroom eagerly.

You feel like you’re gushing everywhere—his fingers, his mouth, the bedsheets—and it’s pure ecstasy when he blows out the flame, your body the smoke as you dissipate into the luxury of a devastatingly euphoric bliss.

Javi drags his lips up your thigh, to your torso, all the way up to your jaw before capturing your lips in a searing kiss as you both share the taste of you on his tongue.

He hums into the kiss and separates from you, bringing his slick-coated fingers to your mouth. You huff a laugh as you eagerly lick the arousal off of his wedding ring and up his digit, popping both of them into your mouth and suck them until they’re clean.

Javi’s cock is impossibly hard now, but he knows how badly you want to explore the beautiful city. So, he pushes his urges down for now, though you’d likely gladly take his cock into that pretty mouth of yours and suck him dry.

He groans as he gets up from the bed, giving you another chaste kiss before he trudges to the bathroom to retrieve a towel to clean you up. Your eyes follow him as you lay on your side, head propped up by your hand. You study his figure unashamedly, admiring your husband and his bare form in all of its glory. Long legs, toned arms, tan skin, and of course, that insanely cute ass of his—and he’s all yours. Every inch of his beautiful body, face, and mind is yours.

He walks out of the bathroom with a towel in hand, and you can’t help but admire his impressive length. He teasingly throws the towel at you and you catch it, and before you can protest, his body is hovering over yours.

“Someone can’t keep their eyes to themselves, hm?” He quirks a brow at you.

“Well excuse me for admiring my husband and how sexy he is.” You retort, and he can’t help the guttural laugh that escapes his belly.

“You’re something else, you know that?” His tone is playful, snatching the towel from you as he cleans you up.

You prop yourself up on your elbows as you give him a stern look, and he meets your gaze with a boyish grin.

“You’re the one who married me. That’s on you.” You say, and he grabs your shoulders after tossing the towel onto the floor before giving you a light shake.

“And it’s been the best decision of my life, muchas gracias.” [thank you very much]

You roll your eyes before leaning up and giving him a kiss, tapping his thigh as you pull apart.

“Up and at ‘em, baby. Italy is waiting for us.”

You watched Javi as he bought some fresh fruit from a vendor at the street market, patrons bustling on the side as they enjoyed the beautiful weather and scenery before them. The water was a brilliant hue of blue, tying in the bright colors and coastal landscaping Positano had to offer.

Javi holds out his arm for you after he purchases the fruit, and you gladly cling onto his bicep as you make your way down the street. You stop for a moment to look at him and admire his outfit—bright blue shirt that contrasted beautifully against his tan skin, and some white pants paired with brown loafers.

He gave you a face when you originally suggested the shoes to him because it simply wasn’t something he’d ever wear, but they were insanely comfortable and undoubtedly great for walking, deeming you right once more.

“Mi esposa always knows what’s best,” [my wife] He’d said.

Javi peels an orange for you both to share, splitting it in half and hand feeding you the slices. You bite the tip of his finger playfully, and he can’t help but admire the buttery sweet sound of the laugh that emanates you.

You hum at the citrus taste of the orange, closing your eyes in delight at how fresh it is.

“That’s delicious.” You say aloud, and Javi looks at you while sliding his aviators down the bridge of his nose.

“It is, but nothing compares to the taste of you.”

Your face heats up at his words, hiding it in the crook of his neck for a second while letting out a mumbled ‘behave’ from you.

He’s smug when you pull your face back from the warmth of his body, and you lightly swat his chest in mock-chastise.

“You hungry, mamí?” He pulls a food guide of local restaurants out from his back pocket, and you nod eagerly.

“For more than just food.” You murmur, slotting your arms onto his broad shoulders, letting one hand dangle and the other play with the curls at the nape of his neck. His hands instinctively grab onto your waist and he pulls your body flush to his.

“Now who needs to behave, hm?”

“Still you.” You beam.

“Smartass.” He retorts with a chuckle.

“Maybe. But you love me.”

“That I do, bebita,” [baby girl] He leans in for a kiss before handing you the food guide, and you briefly scan the options.

“How about some pizza?”

The restaurant reminds you of your first date with Javier. You remember how much he tried to impress you, and even then, you knew he was someone special. To end up here with him in Italy eating the most delicious pizza and drinking the crispest glass of wine four years later seems like a total fever dream.

Javi raises his glass up to you, giving you his infamous puppy dog eyes and the softest smile you think you’ve ever seen on him. “Cheers to you, amor de me vida,” [love of my life] “You make me the happiest man alive. You’ve given me everything I could wish for and then some, and your beautiful heart and soul never ceases to amaze me.”

Tears prick your eyes as you raise your glass to clink against his, sipping the Prosecco in your glass. You reach for his left hand across the table, bringing his knuckles up to your lips as you kiss them and his wedding band repeatedly.

“I love you, Javier Peña. Thank you for giving me a life well beyond my wildest dreams. I’d do anything for you. It’s me and you against the world, baby.”

“I’ll never know how a bastard like me got so goddamn lucky. You’re a godsend, corazón,” [heart] “What if we had an addition to our world?” He asks, voice almost shy as he tries to gauge your reaction.

“What do you mean, mi amor?” [my love]

”How do you feel about starting a family? With me?”

He’s hopeful with the way he stares at you, squeezing your hand as he awaits your answer.

“Is that something you want, baby? I know a while back you said you weren’t too sure.”

You’d love to have a family with Javier. The thing was, he wasn’t too sure of that awhile back when things really got serious between you two. You were a little crushed by the prospect of not having kids with the love of your life, but you’d learn to make do. It was never a dealbreaker for you specifically, but you’ve always felt like you were meant to be a mom.

“I’m sure now. I love the sound of having a little one of us running around. We don’t need to rush into it, though. I just—I want this with you, and I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Well, besides asking you to be mine para siempre.” [forever]

You try to not let your emotions overwhelm you in the moment. The man sitting in front of you has you in pure awe, with the way a softness has wrapped itself around his heart, showing him that this side of life is full of warmth and love. He’s gradually learned to accept it, unlearning all of the harsh stoicism that seized his being in the past.

“You’d be the best daddy, Javier Peña. No doubt in my mind.”

His face gleams with joy as he brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing each knuckle individually.

“And you’d be the best mommy, Mrs. Peña.”

Your heart flutters at the sound of your new last name. You still genuinely cannot believe you’re married to this man.

“Chucho is probably going to ask when we’re going to give him grandbabies.”

Javier can’t help but laugh, knowing full well his father would undoubtedly ask that question as soon as you two get back to Texas.

He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively at you. “We should start practicing now then, mamí. Wouldn’t wanna keep him or the rest of the family waiting.”

A sheen of sweat coats your brow and chest as you arrive back to your villa with Javi. The walk itself wasn’t far but the warm weather was starting to get to you. And yet, as soon as you walked through the doors of the bedroom, he was on you.

He was kissing your pulse point while his hands roamed over your body with fervor, skimming over the cotton material of the sundress you were wearing. You giggle as his mustache tickles your neck, playfully nudging him.

“Javi, baby, I’m all sticky and sweaty. Let me take a shower first.”

He hums at your words, continuing the assault of his lips down your jugular before nibbling on your hot skin. His grip on your waist tightens before he leads you backwards into the bathroom, hands moving down to your ass before giving it a playful slap. He spins you around so you’re both facing the huge mirror above the double vanity, and his hands settle onto your stomach.

His eyes travel down to where his hands are as he starts to rub his thumbs back and forth. The look of pure love in his eyes was enough to tell you how badly he really wants to be a father. You reach an arm back to cradle the side of his face, craning your neck to the side to give his cheek a kiss.

“Can you just imagine growing a life that’s half you and half me in here? Nuestro hijo o hija. You’d be glowing even more than you do now, mi amor.” [our son or daughter ; my love]

Your gaze snaps back up to his face, his usual stoic brow softened at the idea of you carrying his child. You didn’t think you could fall in love with this man even more, but picturing him taking your newborn baby out of the carseat after coming home from the hospital and seeing their tiny body resting against his chest in comfort, against someone so loving and so familiar, gives you an indescribable amount of butterflies.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror once more, and you can’t help but give him a soft smile. Both of you are well aware that no words can ever come close to describing the emotions that flow through your minds and hearts, but somehow still connect perfectly like a puzzle piece.

It’s sacred, your love with Javi, and it’s something you’ll both pour into your future child endlessly.

Javi’s lips find your neck once more, fingertips skating over the sticky flesh of your arms before settling on the straps of your dress. His lips move to your shoulder as he slips one strap off, then the other, and tugs down gently so the fabric falls and pools at your feet.

You’re bare on top, and Javi takes advantage of the beautiful sight and kneads your breasts with his hands. You can’t help the way your head lolls back onto his shoulder, biting your lip as he tweaks both nipples simultaneously.

“My beautiful wife.” He whispers, trailing a hand down your torso and over the fabric of your panties, teasingly rubbing you through the thin material. A gasp evades you as the familiar low ache bubbles in your core once again.

“Javi,” You gasp, hand flying up to steady yourself as you grab the side of his neck.

“Fuck, I love the way you say my name.”

Your ass presses against his front, and you feel his cock harden in his pants. You turn around to face him and he grabs your hips instinctively before pulling you forward so you’re flush to his body. He leans in to kiss you ferociously, hands sliding down to grab your ass as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

You stay like that for a minute just enjoying the simplicity in the art of kissing your husband before reaching down to unbutton his shirt. You slide the material off of his shoulders before moving down to his pants, palming his cock teasingly. He groans into your mouth and kisses you like a starved man, backing you toward the shower. You slide his jeans off of his hips once he’s stagnant and he steps out of them, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Before you two can continue your escapades, he gives your forehead a kiss before turning on the shower to a temperature comfortable for you both. You slide your panties off and he mirrors your actions, sliding his boxers off before you both step inside.

The lukewarm water cools your skin briefly before Javi steps under the stream, face up toward the water. You watch as the droplets stream down his face, to his neck and shoulders, down his torso and down down down into the dark, wiry hairs that sit below his navel and above his delicious length.

Your mouth is practically salivating at the sight before you, and you need to have a taste of your husband.

Your hands are gentle on his torso before they drag down, your body lowering with them until you’re on your knees. Javi looks down at you with his lips parted and a wild look in his eye.

You lick your lips and smirk at him before pushing on his thighs, backing him up so he sits down onto the bench in the shower. You scoot forward on your knees, admiring your man from below as his thighs spread wide and his hard cock is already furious and leaking pre-come, slathering itself onto his torso.

Your nails scratch his thighs lightly before you lean down to kiss them each once, looking back up at him before taking his cock into your hand. You pump his silky flesh a few times before swiping your thumb over his slit, spreading his arousal over the head of his cock before lowering your mouth.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the taste, absolutely entranced by this man and his cock that you love oh so much.

“My wife is so pretty with my cock in her mouth.” He says, stroking the side of your face with his thumb.

You separate from him as you sit back on your heels, pumping his length as you quirk a brow. “I think I look prettier when your cock is in me, papí.”

He groans and squeezes his eyes shut, thumping his head against the shower wall. “Got a dirty fucking mouth, bebita. Christ.” [baby girl]

“Just wait to see what it’ll do to your cock.” You can’t help but giggle at the way your words were easily affecting him, but you decide to cease your teasing.

You slowly take him into your mouth, gagging as you reach the hilt. You swallow around him as best as you can manage before bringing your mouth up once more, swirling your tongue around his tip before taking him all the way into your mouth again.

He’s heavy and warm against your tongue, twitching with every bob of your head as you set a steady rhythm. You squeeze your lips around him and he cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements up and down his cock in haste.

“Your mouth feels so– fuck– fucking good, corazón.” [heart]

He struggles to vocalize a coherent thought, babbling on about how good you make him feel and how much he loves you.

The broken praises only spur you on further as you begin to deepthroat him with every pass, tears pricking your waterline as you control your gag reflex. He’s nearly bucking his hips up into you at this point, fucking your mouth at a pace that drives him insane.

“Shit– yeah, baby, just like that. Fuck you’re so perfect, I’m gonna fucking come—”

You hum around him and squeeze your lips even tighter, gripping his thighs as he tenses up. His spend shoots onto your tongue and he can’t help the loud groan that rumbles through his chest, the feeling of your mouth so heavenly around his cock. You swallow everything he gives you, enjoying the view of your husband’s post-orgasm glow.

The late afternoon sun seeps into the bathroom and illuminates him in such a way that even the Greek Gods have nothing against. He looks picturesque like this; mouth parted and panting—a wild and untamable rasp, eyes shut as he comes down from the orgasm he’s been pining after all day long. His wet curls stick to his forehead in disarray, but it suits him.

His eyes slowly peel open and peer down at you, and you know better than to give him a smug smile. Instead, you lean down and kiss his inner thigh a few times without breaking his heady gaze.

“C’mere.” He murmurs, pulling you up by your elbows. You’re standing now, and he leans forward to kiss your stomach a few times before he pats his thighs. You straddle his hips, hands landing on his chest as you trace small patterns.

His hand slides down and in between your thighs where it’s slick with your arousal. You were so lost in pleasing your husband that you didn’t notice the incessant need growing stronger by the minute. It wasn’t a low, bubbling thing anymore—it was a full-fledged monstress clawing her way to the surface, begging to be tamed.

The carnal desire for Javi couldn’t be held off anymore. You leaned in to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as your hips rock against nothing in particular. Javi is already half-hard again, and ever the gentleman that he is, he angles you down to where your dripping core is gliding against his warm, thick length.

A strangled moan leaves your lips as you toss your head back, and Javi leans forward to nose at your jaw before peppering your neck in kisses. He nibbles on the junction between your neck and shoulder, rocking his hips up onto you simultaneously.

You whine his name as you loll your head forward, eyes blinking open and gaze locking with his.

You’re not sure what exactly possesses you to say your next words—maybe it’s the look in his eye, maybe it’s a mixture of desperation and desire, maybe it’s just pure, honest truth. Hell, maybe it was all of the above.

“I want to make you a daddy, Javi.” Your voice is sultry and sickeningly sweet, dripping like honey.

And from that point, he was determined. Determined to make you the mother of his child, determined to start a family with you and grow it to both your heart's content, and determined to love and cherish you and your future child, or children—always—and Javier Peña was a man of his word.

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you forward so you both are chest to chest, and you’re reeling over the look he’s giving you. He notches his tip at your entrance, fully hard once again with the promising tone behind your words.

“Say it again.” He says.

“I want to make you,” You pause, moving your lips down to slot between his, pulling back just enough to whisper the rest of your sentence. ��A daddy.” You sink down slowly onto him, and you kiss him again as you slowly adjust yourself to him.

You both moan into each other, pulling apart as he fully sheathes himself into you. You’re so full like this, content in every way possible at the feeling of your husband’s cock stretching you out so deliciously. You rock your hips slightly as a test, moaning at the sensation that surges through you.

You do it again, this time with more intent, and slowly set a rhythm with your hips. The feeling of his cock is otherworldly. A greedy, selfish part of you thinks that you’ll never be able to get enough of him or the feeling of this—being connected as so.

You fist a hand into his thick wet locks as the other grabs onto his shoulder, ensuring you can keep your balance as you rock your hips back and forth. He captures your mouth in a blazing kiss, groping your ass before slapping it once as he picks up the pace for you.

You’re panting into each other’s mouths as he increases the pace, now pounding his hips up into you. You cry out his name as your fingernails claw their way down his back and he hisses in pleasure, cradling the back of your head.

Your mind is fuzzy and your lungs are on fire from kissing him desperately, and the white hot feeling in your core is blazing.

“I–I love you, Javi– oh, god, I fucking love you. I love you and I want you to be the father of my child and I—” You’re babbling so much that you don’t even have a clue as to what it is that you’re really trying to say, but Javi gets the message, you think.

He kisses your jaw as you try and match the movement of your hips to each thrust up into you, but it’s genuinely no use. Your body wants to succumb to Javier and his strong body and delicious cock and beautiful face and his big, loving heart—so you let it. You fall limp in his hold, leaning onto him as your orgasm surges through you unexpectedly.

He can feel you pulsating around him and he knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“Gonna make you a mama. Gonna be so good to our baby, the best mama ever.” He’s losing all self control, and you cradle his head as you ride out your prolonged orgasm.

“Please, Javi.” You beg, and that’s enough for him to completely come undone. His hips still as he comes in you, a string of ‘I love you’s’ spilling from his mouth. You’re both breathless and completely dazed, immersed in post-coital bliss. The sound of the shower water hitting the tile floor is a relaxing constant as you both try to control your breathing.

You sit like this for a while; you're perched in his lap as he leans against the wall, face tucked into the crook of his neck.

You smatter kisses along his pulse point as a silent plea of love. You’re both pruny and fucked-out, but being here with each other like this is truly a dream in itself.

The prospect of his dream woman giving him a child has him reeling, so perhaps leaving the room this week is an empty promise that flew out of the door the minute you told him you’d make him a daddy.

Even if nothing happens right away for the two of you, that’s okay, too. You’d get to relish in the unbelievable life you already share with him a bit longer, built from the ground up by you and a man who loves you unconditionally. A man that would individually pick out the stars from the brilliant night sky for you. A man that still cannot fathom that he gets to share this life with you.

And if that’s the case, you really wouldn’t mind at all.

tags: @punkshort @endlessthxxghts @javierpena-inatacvest @ovaryacted @northernbluess @clawdee @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (since all of you were excited about me posting this. ily)

divider by @saradika-graphics

#javier pena fic #javier peña #javier pena imagine #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena smut #javier pena x you #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal characters

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httpsdrewstarkey · 18 days

Text

Missing You || Drew Starkey

authors note: leaving my gorgeous gorgeous girls some smut before i’m off to work. i didn’t want to end it so abruptly but i have to get ready, so im promising a part 2 when i get home 🥰 not proofread but will fix later. also i have no idea what to name this story, im rushing 😅

warnings: smut, hair pulling

The warmth of the bathwater and the soft bubbles cradled Y/N as she leaned back against Drew, her body instinctively molding to fit the curve of his chest. The flickering candlelight bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a soft shadow on the walls. It was a perfect kind of stillness, the kind that made the world outside feel miles away.

“How was Venice?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers traced along Drew’s forearm, feeling the strength in his muscles, the reassuring steadiness of him. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling; she could feel it in the way his breath tickled the back of her neck.

“It was beautiful,” Drew replied, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her entire body. “The city is amazing, it’s like stepping into a different world. But” he paused, his hand sliding gently up her arm, “no matter how incredible it was, I couldn’t stop thinking about being here. With you.”

Her heart swelled at his words, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She let her eyes drift shut, allowing herself to get lost in the comfort of his embrace. The mention of Venice reminding her of all the images she saw of him.

“I saw the pictures of you in Venice,” Y/N murmured after a moment, her fingers continuing their lazy circles on his arm. There was something more in her voice, a quiet appreciation she couldn’t quite mask. “You looked so handsome in those long yellow trousers and that white shirt. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Drew laughed, the sound vibrating against her back and sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. “You liked that outfit, huh?” A playful sound to his voice.

“I did,” she admitted softly. “It made me miss you even more.” She felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her closer, as if he could close the distance that had been between them, the miles and days that had felt so long.

Needing to see him, Y/N slowly turned in the tub, the water sloshing gently as she moved to face Drew. His hands immediately found her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin with a tenderness that made her heart flutter. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer, until she could feel his breath on her lips.

“I’m also loving the ‘stache you’ve got going on,” she teased, her tone light but with a hint of something more. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in the way his hair had started to grow out, the mustache, the hint of a five o’clock shadow. The sight of him like this, relaxed and slightly rugged, sent a thrill through her that she could feel deep in her stomach.

Drew laughed softly, the sound rich and warm, “Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks as he leaned in to kiss her. It was a slow, lingering kiss, one that spoke of everything they’d missed while they were apart.

His hands drifted down her back, tracing her spine, mapping out every curve. Eventually, his hands settled on her butt, giving it a playful squeeze that made her smile against his lips. The warmth between them, both emotional and physical, made her feel safe, cherished, and completely his.

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her fingers weaving into the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re making it really hard to stay mad at you for being gone so long,” she whispered, though there was no anger in her voice, only a playful one.

Drew’s grip on her hair tightened slightly, his eyes darkening “Maybe you should show me how much you missed me,” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N felt a rush of heat, a wave of butterflies taking flight in her stomach. The weight of his words, the closeness of their bodies pressed together in the warm, soapy water, was almost too much to bear. She could feel his heartbeat against hers, the heat of his skin beneath the water.

Without hesitation, she leaned in, kissing him and it was anything but gentle. It was fierce, urgent, a desperate need to show him exactly how much she had missed him. Drew responded, his hands sliding down her back, gripping her firmly, pulling her so close that she could hardly tell where she ended, and he began.

The sensation of their wet skin sliding against each other, his tight grip on her hair, it all sent waves of excitement coursing through her. It was intoxicating, the way he made her feel as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist and there was only them, only this moment.

Drew’s lips traveled from her mouth to her jaw, each kiss deliberate and slow, as if he was savoring every inch of her skin. The warmth of his breath made her shiver, never wanting him to stop. When he reached her neck, she tilted her head to the side, offering more access for him, the anticipation building with each second. Her breathing hitched, a soft moan threatening to escape her lips, but she held it back, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

Drew paused as he pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting hers. His hands, which had been resting on her hips, slid up her body, fingers trailing along her sides until they reached her neck. With a slow motion, he wrapped his hand around her throat, applying just enough pressure to make her moan loudly, her eyes rolling back.

“I want to hear you, baby,” Drew murmured, his voice low as his eyes watched her, every detail, every curve of her body by the soapy water that clung to her skin, giving her a radiant, almost ethereal glow. The sight of her like this, vulnerable and beautiful, made his cock throb with need, the aching desire to feel her.

He cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip making her moan again, her eyes locking onto his with a mix of anticipation and longing.

Drew leaned in, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, “You’ll be a good girl for me?”

His words almost made her cum right there, his commanding tone stirring something deep inside her. She nodded, unable to find her voice, her body already responding to him in ways she couldn’t control. The warmth of his breath against her skin, combined with the roughness of his thumb on her lip, made her pulse quicken.

Drew’s hand reached her lower abdomen, his fingers lingering there for a moment, tracing slow, deliberate circles into her clit. She let out a soft moan, her body pushing up against him, as her head dropped into his shoulder. Drew smiled against her ear, “That’s it,” he whispered, his fingers applying more pressure, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “Let me hear you, baby. I want to know how much you’ve missed me.”

Her hands gripping his shoulders for support as he added a finger, “Oh my god,” she moaned, her voice trembling as he slowly moved his finger in and out, keeping his thumb on her clit.

“I’m gonna come,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her body began to tremble uncontrollably, moving her hips to feel more of him. The intensity of the moment consumed her, clinging to Drew’s neck for support, her fingers tangling in his hair as she held on tight.

“That’s it, let go for me,” he urged softly, his voice in a low whisper against her ear.

With one final push, the overwhelming wave of pleasure crashed over her, her body shuddering violently as she finally released, a soft cry leaving her lips. Every muscle in her body tensed up, burring her head back into his neck, the relief and sensation washing over her.

“Stand up for me and go stand in front of the mirror,” Drew said, his voice low and commanding. Y/N, still breathing heavily from her release, slowly rose from the bath. The soapy water cascaded down her body, droplets catching the light and creating a glistening trail that highlighted every curve. Drew watched with a mix of awe and desire, his eyes tracing the path of water as it slid over her skin.

As she moved toward the mirror, Drew couldn't help but admire her. She was beautiful, every curve and dip of her body accentuated by the soft glow of the bathroom light. The sight of her, so vulnerable and radiant, made him grow harder.

Drew followed closely behind, his breath hot against her neck as he approached. His hands slid down to her ass, squeezing roughly, “My good girl,” he whispered, his voice a deep rumble of satisfaction.

Drew’s grip tightened on her hips as he moved behind her, his hands making their way to her hair, pulling her hair into a makeshift pony, her head back, forcing her to look up at herself in the mirror. His breath was warm against her ear as he spoke, “I want you to watch yourself.”

The command in his voice made Y/N’s pulse race, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and vulnerability. She swallowed hard, her eyes meeting her own reflection as she felt his gaze on her. Y/N nodded, her throat dry with nervous excitement.

Drew’s grip softened slightly as he whispered, “Relax, honey. I’ll always take care of you.”

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey prompt #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x reader #outerbanks rafe

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bigification · 3 months

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Coach's Emergency Line

It was ten minutes until their big final was set to begin. Every player rushed through the locker room to get their gear on. College football was taken really seriously by their school, so the pressure was on.

"Ha anyone seen Coach! We've got ten minutes till it's go time." The team captain yelled out.

The room fell silent. No one had seen Coach since their last practice, and he was nowhere to be seen on the big day.

"Something's wrong, Coach prepared me for this situation." The captain said under his breath. "This is a code red team! We need to use Coach's Emergency Line." The chatter in the room immediately stopped as the words echoed around the room.

"But Coach said that for emergencies only." One player broke the silence.

"This is an emergency. He's not here for the big game, he would only miss this if something was really wrong." The captain explained.

"What do we do, we've never had a code red." Chimed from another player.

"Greg!" The captain said sternly.

All eyes pointed to the freshmen, making him sink in shyness. Up to this point he had been a bench warmer, seemingly chosen just to fill out the roster.

"I need you to use the emergency line." The captain approached Greg.

"W- why me?" Greg stuttered, feeling all the eyes in the room staring.

"Coach instructed me that it had to be you." He said in a serious tone.

"Oh... Ok." Greg smiled slightly, just happy to finally be of use to the team.

He sheepishly walked to the big red button in the corner of the locker room. "Emergency line" was displayed in bright yellow above the button. He flipped up the glass casing and slowly pressed the button down.

WOOOOO! WOOOOO!

An alarm sounded as a red light began to flash. Greg froze in place with his finger still holding the button down. A static shocked traveled up his finger and right into his heart. A grunt escaped from his lips as his heart stopped.

Suddenly his chest started to pulsate outward, slowly growing with each pulse. His flat chest quickly grew into two meaty pecs that strained against his tiny shirt. His abdomen narrowed into a v shape as muscle piled into his midsection. Although a layer of fat quickly covered his growing six pack, giving him a small belly. His torso started to grow taller as well, making his shirt ride up and revealing his slutty waist and pudgy belly.

Next his shoulder broadened as his traps grew into thick muscles, so much so that his shirt started to rip around his shoulders. His noodle-like arms started to pulsate, similar to his chest. Each pulse brought more and more muscle, his biceps became the size of footballs as veins surfaced all the way down his strong arms. Even his hands doubled in size with thick fingers, letting him easily grip a football with one hand.

His waist started to tremble and his legs began to shake. It wasn't long before his spandex pants were ripped to shreds. The entire team watched as his juicy ass bounced as it ripped through his pants. The rest of his pants ripped clean in half as his thighs thickened and his calves became large and defined. As his pants fell to the ground, his jockstrap started to struggle holding in his growing cock. Good thing he wouldn't be on the field today, because that jock is doing nothing to protect his now 8 inch dick. Even his feet busted out of his cleats, becoming a monstrous size 18.

His height further increased as his legs grew, leaving him at an intimidating 6"6. Finally his head began to change. It grew to match his massive stature. In the process, his jawline became sharp as a knife and his eyes became sleek and intimidating. His shoulder length hair fell out, leaving a short buzz cut as his hairline receded halfway up his head. Some of his hairs even started to turn grey, which in combination with his new wrinkles, aged him well into his forties. A five o'clock shadow quickly spread across his face as a mustache formed above his lip. The hair started to spread downward, covering his chest with a forest of hair, followed by his stomach. A pelt of hair covered his muscly back, then it spread down his arms and on his thick man hands. The hair created a jungle down his ass and spread a thick coat down his legs and to his feet.

By the time Greg, I mean Coach took his finger off the button, there was nothing left of the freshman. Just a 6"6 hulk of a man in a jock and a tiny shirt was left behind. Coach's hand lifted above the button and grabbed the ball cap that was now hanging conveniently in front of his. He quickly covered up his balding head and turned to face his team. He pulled on his jockstrap, trying to make it not press on his dick so hard. Then he smiled at his team as he just realized what had happened.

"Will someone get me some fucking clothes that fit me!" Coach belted in a deep gruff voice.

#male tf #masculine #hairy #male wg #reality change #male transformation #muscle tf #age progression

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fox-guardian · 3 months

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[ID: A digital full-body drawing of Martin Blackwood and Jonathan Sims as furries on a cool gray background. Martin is a tall brown bear with shoulder-length red and white hair tied into a low ponytail, and he is wearing round gold glasses, a blue t-shirt, and yellow shorts. Jon is a black Oriental Shorthair cat covered in burn scars, small circular scars, and slashes that disrupt his fur, including a ring of missing fur around his tail. He has long, curly black hair with gray streaks and a matching mustache, and he is wearing half-moon glasses on a green beaded chain, a green satin camisole, a light brown maxi skirt, and a brown shawl with fringe. Martin is standing with one handpaw raised around waist height, smiling down at Jon, while Jon stands next to him, pulling his shawl tighter around himself and smiling with his eyes closed. There are red hearts around both of their heads, and a small drawing above Jon's head of Martin's butt showing a small fluffy tail poking out of his shorts with a notation reading "he's ass" pointing at the drawing. end ID]

~~~~

found this in my files, apparently i never finished it. they <3

#fg's art #the magnus archives #tma #martin blackwood #jonathan sims #furry #anthro #i need to draw them cuddling so bad #cursing

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ilovejoostklein · 3 months

Note

i would love a best friends to lovers scenario. Like joost and reader are best friends for years and they are now developing feelings. Reader isn't dutch but german or something else and they teach each other their language. Like imagine joost teaching her dutch. And Please a lot of cheesy fluff. Thank you🥹

sorry for taking a while, i wanted to try to get the dutch as accurate as possible ❤️

How Do You Say ‘I Love You’

You and Joost are childhood friends. After high school, you moved away from the Netherlands and since have been living in the south of France, but he’s always been bad at dealing with your absense

sfw: fluff, friends to lovers, so much fluff

When high school ended and you went off for university, Joost felt like a piece of him had been left vacant. His heart ached during the fall and spring months when you were away in France teaching private English lessons and being a nanny to spoiled little French kids for half the year. The family you worked for always rubbed him the wrong way, but he didn’t realize why until he saw you again.

It was the beginning of summer, the family wanted you to postpone your month-long trip to the Netherlands, the country where you’d spent most of your adolescence and left all your loved ones behind. When you’d told Joost that you wouldn’t be back for another month, he’d gotten so upset and impatient that he booked a ticket the second he got your text and showed up unannounced.

You remembered how mortified you were when you were awoken by the two children, Max and Lucas, you looked after, delirious from sleep hearing them ramble about a strange, tall man with blonde hair who spoke poor French at their door. You hardly heard the morning birds, the sky still had hues of deep, navy blue, and the sun still under sheets of clouds, it was a criminal that you were being disturbed this early.

You remembered even more so the moment you looked through the peephole and felt your stomach turn. Your body was freezing already from being out of the warm bed, but his presence alone paralyzed you with it. You watched the distorted image of his nervous expression and body language, how he looked over his shoulder constantly and tapped his foot. He held one suitcase in his hand and wore an overstuffed backpack. His hair was a lot blonder than the last time you saw him, and he grew a mustache. This wasn’t the man you’d seen last year, and it certainly wasn’t the boy you were inseparable from in school who you watched YouTube and played video games with.

“Joost?” You rasped, still feeling the aura of sleep, the situation itself made you like you were dreaming without the fatigue.

“Yes.” He answered. “Please let me in.” He said curtly.

You frantically unlocked the door and practically jumped into his arms, hugging him as tightly as you could. The smell of his shampoo was overwhelming, bringing you back to when you were in his bedroom, just turned 13 and entering your scary teenage years. He’d always shower after school before you came over, he made it a habit as he liked to play football with the other boys after school and come home tracking dirt and mud in the house. You missed his parents’ voices scolding him for always forgetting to take his shoes off. The smell of apple in his hair brought you back to that beautiful memory. It hurt to let go.

“Missed you.” You mumbled, holding back the tears of the overwhelming happiness to see your friend again. “Don’t forget to take off your shoes.”

“C’est ton petit compain?” One of the boys teased you, prompting you to playfully push the giggling kids away into the kitchen.

“Vas t’en.” You scolded lightly. “Go to the kitchen.”

Joost chuckled, the sight of you with the boys always warmed his heart. He’d only met the kids a handful of times since whenever you two would reunite it would be in the Netherlands. They treated him awkwardly, but it was an infectious happiness, the domestic, comforting feeling of it to see you so caring and motherly. He felt at home with you all the time, and your sweet nature had soothed him for as long as he knew you. Even in the south of France, jet-lagged and nervous he felt happy with you.

“I’ll start making breakfast.” You said, quickly grabbing the apron and putting it over your pajamas he could tell this was a well-established, chaotic routine. “Do you want tea or coffee?”

“Koffie.” Joost exaggerated his choice of Dutch, encouraging you to roll your eyes. “Alstublieft”

You felt a bit bad that your Dutch was severely lacking despite living in the Netherlands for five years. It was honestly kind of embarrassing, especially for someone who taught a language for a living. You understood enough to finish primary school and talk to friends, but completely stopped practicing once you returned to France, and it’s only deteriorated since. Joost was disappointed, to say the least, but he enjoyed having something to tease you over.

“I’ll be here for two weeks, by the way.” He began, “You’ll speak perfect Dutch once I’m gone, so you’ll be really to come back to the Netherlands.”

You scoffed, “Why do I have to learn Dutch but you don’t have to learn French?”

He only chuckled in response as you prepared his coffee the way he always liked, hot, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk. He’d been drinking it that way since you started high school together. Every morning, in fact, a steaming hot coffee, usually the shitty kind that was somehow always bitter no matter how much sugar you put in there. It was unsurprising that he loved cigarettes so much.

“I’ll learn French, why not.” He said, smiling as he took the steaming mug from you. “Dank je.” He thanked you sweetly.

“Merçi.” You corrected, “Omelette ou pain et fromage mes petits choux?” You asked the boys.

“Pain et fromage.” The two boys answered loudly in unison, clearly hungry and impatient.

“Pain et fromage.” Joost added in his broken accent, “Alstublieft.” His answer in Dutch sent the boys into a giggling fit.

You couldn’t help but sigh and laugh, internally relieved that you wouldn’t have to go fight the chickens for their eggs, a sight that would’ve certainly amused Joost, and could quickly cut up some of the bread you’d baked last night and cheese made from one of the local farmers. You were glad that as tired as he was, you’d at least be able to get him some good food.

You set the table, laying out a few choices of jam, cut-up fruits, and a little bit of butter. The boys drank their cups of juice and ate their breakfast happily, excitedly telling Joost about their today’s plans, a trip to the beach with the neighbor’s family and their youngest son.

“Are you boys good swimmers?” Joost asked them, his smile big and overpowering all his features, it was your favorite thing about him.

“Yes.” The youngest answered, Max, “Ma nounou is a very bad swimmer.” He always had to be brutally honest.

“She’s ok.” Lucas defended, sweetly handing you half of his mandarin when he noticed that you didn’t take any fruit. “We need to be ready in one hour.” He informed Joost quite seriously, the little kid a stickler for rules.

“Yes, don’t worry,” Joost assured him, taking the empty plates for you to the sink once he was finished eating. “Why don’t you help me with the dishes and give your nounou a break, hm?”

The boys exchanged irritated glances, making a silent agreement between themselves to not embarrass you or themselves in front of their guest. They dragged their feet to the sink, helping Joost clear off the table and wash the dishes as promised, giving you a moment to sneak away to get ready.

“How long have you known nounou?” Lucas asked, hearing the shower upstairs and knowing he was allowed to speak freely now. “We don’t know a lot about you.”

“Oh,” Joost huffed, instantly taken back to the same place you went when you saw him at the door. “Seventeen years, we met when we were twelve.”

The boys made a sound of astonishment, the concept of someone being friends for longer than they had been alive was a concept difficult to grasp but made them more inclined to like Joost instead of just seeing him as a stranger in their home. He understood, you were the closest thing to their mother and you’d been with them since they were born, essentially making them family. He needed to make a good impression.

“That’s a long time.” Max, being only ten, this was especially shocking. “Do you love her?”

Joost felt his cheeks burn, the lack of filters that kids had was something he could never get used to. He could only imagine how crazy this one drove you.

“Yes, I love her,” Joost answered, carefully stacking the expensive glass plates, plain as they were the few of them cost probably as much as his shoes. “She’s a good friend.”

The boys decided it wasn’t a satisfactory response, and to continue to interrogate him with questions. Naturally, they had to find out if he was good enough for you.

“You love her or you like her?” Lucas asked his tone still so serious Joost began to get intimidated by the little French kid still in his pajamas.

He heard the shower had stopped for a while, but knowing you, you were probably still overthinking what to wear or were taking a few minutes just to sit in the bathroom wrapped in your towel. He knew you too well, all the tiniest most negligible parts of you he memorized like it was his favorite song. He would play over and over in his head the things that you’d do, how your nose scrunched up when you laughed, how you rolled your eyes every time he corrected your Dutch.

“I do love her,” Joost admitted quietly, making his way to the living room. It was bigger than he remembered, a bit renovated, and kept impeccably neat, he wondered if they’d finally hired a housekeeper. “Kids, did your parents ever hire more help?”

Lucas shook his head, “Non.” He answered a bit sadly. “Maman says we don’t need more than a nanny.”

Joost simply nodded, thinking about the first and seemingly last time he met the boys’ parents. They were tall, stone-faced Parisian lawyers who wanted an escape from the city for their children, or rather from them, prompting them to buy the biggest house on the little hill in a southern French village. It was completely idyllic, but without you, he felt that they’d leave this beautiful home completely soulless.

“You kids should get ready.” Joost glanced at the clock, dreading when he would have to rummage through his bag to find swimming trunks and his sandals.

He found one of the many guest rooms and adopted it as his own for now. After making a proper mess of his clothes, he finally found his brightly colored blue trunks and flip-flops. He was the kind of person who liked wearing sneakers to the beach, but you never failed to give him a lecture about messing up your shoes with the sand, so he decided to be on your good side today.

Every time Joost reunited with you, somehow you’d changed completely for the better. You were more beautiful than the last time he saw you, softer, your presence feeling almost regal. He always wondered how you always looked so put together, how you always could calm or fix a situation. He saw you through rose-tinted glasses, but it never felt like an illusion.

“You look nice.” Joost complimented, taking the beach bags you’d packed from your hand and slinging it over his shoulder. “Are we walking?”

You nodded, “It’s fifteen minutes to the spot we go to.” You said, looking at him with a bit of excitement. “There’s a lot of shops and nice restaurants closer to that area.”

Eventually, the kids ran into their friend while walking, catching up with him and his parents and walking ahead, leaving you and Joost trailing behind.

“They were so tiny the last time I saw them.” He said, remembering how shy and reserved they were just a few years ago.

“Don’t remind me.” You said, watching the boys as they talked and joked with their friends. “I can’t believe we used to be that little.”

Joost turned to look at you, taking in all your beautiful features, returning once again to those old memories that made him happiest. As you two walked, the crashing waves and the fresh saltiness cleared his senses and washed away his apprehensions. It brought him back to the time he realized he loved you.

It was also on a French beach. You’d just completed your first year of university, enjoying the summer break, getting a new job as a nanny, and Joost came down to congratulate you. The two of you lay on the warm sand for hours, fingers grazing each other’s stomachs hurting and cheeks aching from laughing so much. He wanted to blame it on the fact that you’d packed a cooler full of sandwiches and alcohol, or that you’d been wearing a white bathing suit, and the sunset was one of the most beautiful and vibrant he’d seen, shining golden light against your skin. The scene was romantic, he had a bit too much to drink and he thought he was just confused.

He wished he told you then. The feeling only grew steadily over time, like seeds he’d planted his love for you slowly grew. He was thankful it was slow, the distance keeping his feeling muted and controlled as he didn’t have to face you every day, and your friendship surviving over texting and calls. Even then, he would reread all your texts, and stare at the pictures you’d send at random points of the day. It became like a ritual, every day before bed, when he woke up, if he was having a particularly bad day seeing your smiling face eased him.

“We have so much to talk about.” You were dying to hear all his stories about his tour. Joost was always cool to you, but being a musician made him so much cooler.

“I can tell you all about my shows.” He immediately knew what you were interested in. “But in Dutch.”

You groaned in response, not wanting to start the speaking Dutch argument yet. You found a place far enough to talk out of earshot but close enough to keep an eye on the kids. The weather was perfect, warm and sunny but not enough to swim yet.

“I thought you wanted to learn French.” You said, laying down the blankets and pulling his hand so that he’d sit with you.

“I do.” Joost sat a little closer than you were anticipating, his shoulder and knee touching you. “I’ll talk to you in Dutch and you can answer in French.”

“That’s too hard.” You complained. “Just speak a little Dutch.”

“Fine.” He relented. “De concerten waren leuk, the concerts were fun, easy right?”

“Ja, zeker.” You answered, seeing his face immediately light up at hearing you attempt to speak Dutch again, even if it was simple. “Wat was je favoriete onderdeel, what was your favorite part?” You asked slowly.

“So advanced.” Joost complimented jokingly “Alles was goed, zingen is altijd leuk, maar reizen is het beste, it was all good, but traveling is the best.”

“Ja, dat is leuk.” You answered plainly, not having much in your memory to work with.

Joost chuckled, bumping your knee. “How do you live in the Netherlands for five years and your Dutch is shit?”

“Your best friend speaks French and you don’t.” You attempted to defend yourself, it was a bit hypocritical as you two lived in the Netherlands at one point and not France. “But you will learn, and we’ll speak French all the time.”

“No, because I’m bringing you back to the Netherlands.” He answered, he was serious in his hopes you’d come back. “Everyone is waiting for you there.”

You hesitated, “I just hated the fact I couldn’t pick up Dutch.” You’d said it a dozen times, the fact you’d felt more comfortable speaking French was the reason you’d chosen to start your life here.

“We spoke Dutch all the time as kids.” He reminded you. “Don’t you want to come back?”

You couldn’t help but watch as Lucas and Max built sandcastles with their friend. France was beautiful, you had a good life and found a second family here. Even if the parents were a bit difficult at times, at least they paid you nicely and you knew they loved you. Still, you didn’t know if your future was nannying, or if it was even in France.

“I miss you all the time.” You began, reaching into one of the coolers to offer Joost a beer to let the building emotion taper off. “But maybe I’ll get to come back with you in two weeks.”

“It’s a bit early for beer.” He chuckled, handing it back and trading it for soda. “You’re trying to get me drunk already?”

“Shut up.” You hit his knee with yours. “Do you want to try to get into the water?”

Joost had felt the sun begin burning him through his shirt and was staring at the calm, crystal blue waters. He nodded and was relieved you said something.

He watched as you slipped off the straps of your sheer coverup and kicked off your sandals. You wore a floral bikini, he wished he could get closer to study the pattern and to feel how soft your skin was, he was glad being at the beach with you was an opportunity to be able to be able to hold you.

You two held hands as he led you into the water, thankfully it wasn’t as cold as he was expecting. At first, you two swam alone, you clung onto Joost’s back, your hands resting on his shoulders and legs wrapped around his torso as he went into the deeper end. It was like that for a while, talking about random things and pushing each other into the water until the kids decided to join you.

Joost was always great with kids, he was gentle and patient even if they were spoiled and could be a bit demanding. Lucas and Max spent a great deal arguing over who got to go on Joost’s shoulders so that they could go in the deep end. You spent the rest of the time swimming with Joost, the boys, and the parents before you decided it was time for lunch.

Lucas had been working to keep himself, his brother and his friend separated from you so that you and Joost could have time alone together. It was a sweet gesture, and he could tell how much he cared for you and his wish to be alone, even if he didn’t completely understand the depth of it.

Joost wrapped you in a towel and offered to brush your hair as you began to eat your lunch, a cold sandwich you’d packed the night before, chips, and more cut-up fruits, you couldn’t help it living next to so many farms. You fed some chips and fruit to Joost as he detangled your hair, giggling as you tried to figure out where his mouth was without compromising his work.

“I’m done now.” He admired his work, smoothing down the hair on your face. “I’m hungry, stop forcing me to work.”

He sat beside you and began to eat, still watching the way the sun glittered on the water but even then he felt something missing. As beautiful as it was, he realized he’d enjoyed looking at your hair and the sight of your smiling face much more.

“Is it good?” You asked, always tending to be nervous about whether or not someone liked your food.

“Yes, always.” Joost responded, “I love your cooking.”

“Say, J’aime votre cuisine.” You told him, getting a side-eyed response.

“J’aime votre cuisine.” He repeated, his pronunciation improving a bit. “How do you say I love the beach?”

“J’aime la plage.” You responded, wondering why he was asking such easy questions.

“How do you say I love you?” He was trying to be annoying, but as always you gave in.

“Je t’aime.” You said, rolling your eyes. “You know that.”

“Oh,” Joost brought you into an aggressive hug. “Je t’aime aussi.”

You didn’t know how the playful aggression ended up with you lying down with your head on Joost’s shoulder. You looked over at him, seeing that his expression had softened as you both listened to the sounds of the ocean and soft music from the shops down the street.

“I wish you’d come back forever.” He mumbled suddenly.

“Why so soon?” You asked, “You get to visit me here, and you’re never home anymore anyway.”

“I’d bring you everywhere with me.” Joost’s tone was a bit too serious, “I could take care of you.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at his face. It wasn’t fair, he was even handsome from this angle. “What do you mean?”

He was the one sighing and rolling his eyes this time. “You know how I feel about you.” he began, “You know I don’t see you as just a friend.”

The confession wasn’t that, but just putting the obvious out into the open. You’ve never touched Joost more than a hug, or holding his hand in the seventeen years you’d known each other. You couldn’t fathom how excruciating it would have been if you focused on the fact that you’d always been dreaming about his touch and finally have something besides this friendship, as much as you cherished it.

You could’ve mistaken his lips for strawberries, and when you’d leaned down and pressed yours against them they might as well have been from how much fruit you’d spoiled him with.

You kept the kiss brief, smoothing your hand down the softness of his cheek as you looked into his eyes, the blue much more magnificent and captivating than any ocean you’ve seen.

“Ik hou van jou.” You whispered, the way his face brightened and how he smiled was something you’d never seen before. You wished the memory would burn itself into your mind. “You’re my best friend, I love you.”

“Je t’aime.” He whispered back, wasting no time to bring you into another kiss.

#joost klein #joost #joost klein x reader #fem reader #fluff #friends to lovers

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laniluvsuu · 1 year

Text

Pony.

Southern Ony&Southern Eren x Blackfemreader!

Warnings: smut!!! Threesome, Creampie, Oral (M. Receiving), Riding. Language, Slapping/Spanking. Choking/neck gripping. Maybe some misspelled words. I think that’s it srry if I missed anything😣!

You felt eyes on you, eyes to your right to be exact. They’ve been looking at you this whole time, you’ve made eye contact once or twice.

“You boys know it’s rude to stare?” You said turning your head and meeting the eyes once again. Two sets, one pair was dark brown the other was emerald.

“Our fault pretty. It’s sure as hell hard not to when you look so gorgeous.” The man directly next to you said, while the one in the back nodded his head in agreement as he fixed his hat and placed his drink back down on the counter.

“I’m Eren.” He said with a smirk on his face, placing his hand out for you to shake. Eren was fine. With his long shoulder length dark brown hair, his emerald green eyes that never left your face, and the many tattoos that covered his arms.

“Hi Eren, im Y/N.” You said placing your hand into his to shake it, he didn’t shake your hand just held it while looking you in your eyes. There was a deep chuckle before you could get another word out and it was from the other man. He was now moving to the other side of you.

“Let’s not be selfish Eren. Im Onyankopon, but you can call me Ony.” He said as he took a seat next to you with his back facing the counter and his legs spread out while he lifted his hand up to you with a soft smirk. Ony looked good almost too good, with his cornrows, and his mustache and goatee combo that complimented his face. His gold nose ring that decorated his right nostril, the tattoos all over his arms and hands.

“Well then Ony, Eren. What y’all got planned for the night?” You said after shaking Erens hand and now placing your hand into Onys, waiting for their answer.

“You tell us Mama.” Ony said moving his head to lay on his shoulder, looking at the side of your face while holding your hand in his.

“Mmm..I wanted to give the bull a ride before the night was over.” You said reaching your free hand over to Eren’s head to grab his hat and place it on your head. Eren smirked at your actions, and then gave Ony a knowing look when the bull was brought up.

“Oh? We’ll make sure you get a ride before the night ends pumpkin.”

And they sure as hell did, took them back to your apartment and now you’re bouncing up and down on Onys dick your back facing his chest while Eren was standing infront of you, his dick touching your throat, all you could see was his ink covered chest and pelvis.

“Oh yeah darlin, just like that all the way down.” Eren groaned out as he let his blunt sit in his mouth as he moved his hands to the back of your head pushing you all the way down, your nose meeting with his pelvis. You gripped onto Onys legs beneath you as you stopped your movements on his dick and focused on Eren as tears spilled out of your eyes.

“Don’t stop, you know better.” Ony said as he slapped your ass and moved his hands to your waist moving you up and down. His thumbs pushing into your dermal piercings making you squeal out around Erens dick.

“Ohhh my god. F—fuck!!” You yelled out as soon as Eren let you go, you rested you head on Erens thigh and kept your hand stroking his dick while Ony fucked up into you, and moved his hand up to mess with your clit. “Nope mama. Head up. Don’t fucking drop your hat.” Ony said reaching his hand up to grip on your neck and force you to look up at Eren. Since you wanted to play with hats so bad earlier Onys making you wear his hat until y’all are done.

“Ouuhh..I’m g—gonna cum again!” You cried out to them feeling your lower stomach get hotter and that knot tightening, Eren moved his hand down to grip your face, and force you to look him in the eyes, he also passed the blunt that was once in his mouth into Onys hand that was once around your neck.

“You gonna cum for us babygirl?” He said as he tilted his head, and narrowed his eyes while he looked down at you, he grabbed his dick and tapped his tip on your lips twice. “You look so fucking gorgeous bouncing on his dick with my dick in your face. You’re such a fucking slut.” Eren groaned out at the sight below him.

“S-she’s so fucking tight. O-oh fuck!” Ony said as he looked down at where you two were connected, your pussy was practically drooling all over his dick, squeezing him so hard it felt like you were tryna milk him dry. The white ring around his dick from your pussy made him feel dizzy.

“O-ohh..she’s fucking creaming on my shit. Holy fuck. I’m gonna cum.” Ony said as he threw his head back, moving your hips harder and faster chasing his climax once he felt the coil in his stomach get tighter and hotter.

“You heard him babydoll, he’s gonna cum where you want it?” Eren said as he stroked his dick still looking at your face, smiling once he heard you moan out. “I-insidee…! Daddy please! Mmph!” Eren quickly put his dick back in your mouth before groaning at the feeling, squeezing his eyes shut once you moaned around his dick.

“You heard babygirl Ony, fill her pussy up while I work on her mouth.”

#xblackreader #aot x black reader #black reader #they’re so fine #black writers #anime x black!reader #aot smut #eren x black fem!reader #anime x black reader #aot onyankopon #ony x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #eren jeager x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren smut #ony smut

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mikkomacko · 5 months

Text

Him and I: Meet the Hischiers

Pairing: Mob Boss! Nico x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, Nico's crappy parents, and mean girls

A/n: Ok I'm so sorry for how long this is, oh my god. I couldn't not add sweet moments between Nico and reader though, but I promise there's only one more chapter of them in Switzerland before they return to Jersey. Anyway, enjoy and please leave comments and thoughts and requests because I love writing mob boss Nico!

~~~~

Nico’s childhood home is humongous. The SUV rolls up the cobblestone driveway to what you’d consider a mansion, honestly. At least three stories, with fields of snow covered grass and hedges, a looping driveway like at a hotel, and a bright red door.

Everything about it screams elegance.

And yet you can picture a tiny Nico toddling after his older siblings in the grass out front, chasing a soccer ball that was half the size of him.

The mental image eases your nerves enough that you’re able to teasingly scoff and smack at Nico’s arm.

“You didn’t tell me your house is the size of New Jersey!”

Nico rolls his eyes at your drama, taking your hand in his and shrugging. “Yes it’s beautiful,” he agrees “but there’s a reason we’re not staying here. Just remember that, ok?”

Dutifully you nod, but that doesn’t stop you from leaning forward to gape at Timo. Your friend just laughs, directing the car into the spot directly in front of the door.

“The Hischier’s are the closest thing to a royal family here,” he tells you. “And Nico is the delinquent prince that ran away from the crown.”

“Stop lying to her Timo.” Nico interjects, his tone hard and commanding. You immediately sink back into your seat, recognizing that for some reason that was a touchy subject.

You’ll ask him about it later when it’s just the two of you.

This time when the car stops, it’s different men in wool coats that pull open Nico’s car door. They greet him in Swiss German, nodding as he slides out and you follow, taking his outstretched hand and stepping onto the stone path.

They look taken aback by your presence, both sharing a look you can’t quite read before greeting you with a simple “miss.”

You smile, wrapping your hand around Nico’s bicep and pressing into his side. Timo falls into step with you, walking alongside as you head for the front door.

Walking into Nico’s childhood home is more like walking into a recently sterilizes hospital room than a house that three children grew up in. Everything is pristine, polished, and pearl white (or beige).

Not a single item in the main room indicates that a family lives here at all. Even the portrait of a man with a thick mustache and sharp nose hanging over the staircase isn’t friendly.

“Wow,” you breathe out, looking over at Timo. He must read the look in your eyes because he nods just once, clearing his throat when Nico shoots him a look over the top of your head.

“Come on baby,” Nico tells you, guiding you further into the house. “They’re probably in the sitting room.”

The sitting room is like a living room, only colder and not exactly lived in. His family is scattered around the large room, perched on white overstuffed furniture. The first to greet you is a light haired woman, and as soon as she smiles you know this is his mother.

“Nico darling!” She exclaims in an accented voice, one that resembles his but with a tone of superiority. Rising from the sofa, she waves the man next to her up. Even if you were seeing him through fogged glass you’d be able to tell he’s Nico’s father.

They have the same nose, same dark eyes that crinkle by the edges. He’s shorter and less broad than Nico, but their posture and gait are the same. Even the way his dark grey hair falls is similar to Nico’s.

They’re carbon copies of each other.

“Son,” the man greets, buttoning up his suit jacket. “The rumors were true then?”

“Rumors?” Nico asks, and his lack of greeting to his parents makes your stomach drop. Throughout the entirety of your relationship you never imagined Nico’s relationship with his family to be like this.

“Word from the airport was that you brought a guest.” His mother supplies, a polite smile being thrown at you. You return it, hanging to Nico’s bicep like a lifeline. Suddenly you feel pathetic, a random American girl pressed at the hip to the heir of a mob family that stretches three countries and two continents. Hiding in the shadow casted by not only Nico but Timo as well.

Maybe it’s a good thing Sieges and the others didn’t come along.

“Timo insisted on tagging along,” your boyfriend jokes and if you weren’t so stunned and stupid you would have laughed. “This,” he continues, prying his arm from your hold to wrap around the small of you back “isn’t a guest, she’s family.”

Steeling your nerves, you take a steady step forward. “Y/n,” you introduce, holding your hand out to his father. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.”

He takes your hand, squeezing gently as you meet his gaze. For looking so much like his son, he doesn’t actually resemble him. His eyes are threatening and dark rather than comforting and warm like Nico’s. Even the twitch of his lips feels like it was a muscle spasm.

“Rino,” he tells you. “But sir works better.”

You nod in agreement, now reaching out towards his mother. She’s just as calculated when it comes to introducing herself, her tone haughty and amused as she says “Katja.”

“Wonderful to meet you,” you say, smiling warmly despite the thudding of your heart against your ribcage.

“You as well,” she responds, then shoots her son a look. “I’m afraid we haven’t heard much about you y/n, or anything at all for that matter.”

Ignoring the blow, you settle back into Nico’s side. Timo cuts in, greeting them you think but you can’t really hear him over the voice in your head desperately reminding you that Nico loves you, Nico wants you here.

It’s not until Nico’s nose is pressed to your temple that you snap back into reality. “Breathe y/n,” he whispers, his voice just a tickle in your ear but strong and encouraging. “You’re doing perfect.”

Coming back to yourself, you take his hand in thanks as Katja directs her attention to the few men milling about the room. She speaks to them in Swiss German, an order obviously if them scurrying out of the room is anything to go by.

With her and Rino no longer focused on you for the moment, you helplessly look up at Nico. He’s already watching you, not even a hint of a smile on that handsome face of his. Even so, his gaze is solid and proud, and the subtle tilt of his head tells you enough.

It’s ok.

Your breath shudders, feeling weak under those eyes that know and read you so well. You look away, biting at the inside of your cheek to stop the welling feeling of tears. You have to stop before you let your thoughts run too wild, plagued by images of the sweet man before you living under the scrutinizing gazes of this family.

It’s difficult to even picture how he turned into the Nico you know and love.

The return of the workers distracts you, this time a man and woman following behind them. Another copy of Nico, his brother looks like he could be the elder twin of your boyfriend. The hair, the nose, the jawline, the walk. Must be a Hischier man thing.

And the woman, so obviously his sister, physically resembles Katja but her eyes hold that same twinkle that lights up Nico’s eyes.

“Luca, Nina-“ Katja says warmly. “Your brother is here. With guests.”

Nico sighs, anything he might say remaining unspoken when Nina steps between the two sides.

“Family, Mama.” She corrects, sending you a friendly wink. Like a million bricks have been lifted off your shoulders, you visibly relax at her welcoming.

“Nina,” she tells you “you have no idea how excited I am to meet you.”

She doesn’t hold out a hand, instead stretching out both arms to you. Laughing nervously, you accept her embrace, briefly squeezing her in appreciation and introducing yourself.

“Never thought I’d see Nico with such a beautiful woman,” she teases, an underlying sincerity in her words that warms your cheeks. “He must’ve finally learned how to shower properly.”

Nico mockingly laughs behind you, grumbling in his native tongue to his sister but he’s quick to hug her smaller frame. You almost laugh when he tucks into her shoulder, curling in like he’s supposed to be smaller than her. Like a younger sibling that’s forgotten he’s grown to be the tallest.

Luca greets you, not as warmly as Nina but with more friendliness than their parents. He plants two polite kisses to your cheeks, squeezing your biceps awkwardly before jumping into reuniting with Nico. Nina stands by her mother’s side, nodding at you just once as Katja and Rino tell Nico and Luca something you don’t understand.

Resilience renewed, you turn your head to Timo and he leans down so you can whisper in his ear. “You have to teach me something in German, I’m drowning here.”

He chuckles quietly, leaning into your ear. “I’ll try again but I’m not a miracle worker honey.” You blink at him, jabbing your elbow into him in annoyance. He does it back, jolting you and your gearing up to hit him back when a firm hand is reaching around your back and taking a hold of your elbow.

Easily and swiftly, Nico pulls you into his side. By the way Timo straightens up, you’d imagine he’s been silently scolded by his boss. Smirking, you bat your eyelashes at him and innocently press into Nico’s hold.

“We’ve prepared lunch, if you’re hungry.” Katja offers but she’s already directing everyone to another room. The three of you follow obediently, not having any other option really.

~~~~

Lunch is better than the family reunion that took place in the sitting room. With the distraction of food and a cook and his siblings, Katja and Rino don’t even spare you a second glance or get a chance to grill Nico about anything.

Anytime the Devs or New Jersey comes up, Luca or Nina will steer the conversation away. You’re sure it has something to do with everyone avoiding the topic of Nico’s leave of absence and lack of contact for the past few years, but you can’t be certain because it’s never said.

Nico has a hand on you throughout the whole meal, either lacing his fingers with yours or resting comfortably on your thigh. He makes sure that you eat enough, that your water is ok, that you don’t want more helpings. It’s sweet, the way he always communicates through his actions. Maybe he didn’t prepare you enough for this encounter like he should’ve, but physically he’s been here and done everything to let you know that he has your back.

Besides, after listening to his family carefully navigate around unsavory topics over lunch, you can see why he struggles with words.

Especially when his mother is hell bent on making it uncomfortable. The plates have barely been cleared away when she’s zeroing in on her youngest.

“I suppose it’s time you tell us why you’ve come back,” she says airily. “Or rather why you left?”

Nico’s fingers tighten around yours, eyelids fluttering in annoyance as he suppresses an eye roll. “Mother-“

“Everything was set up Nico,” she cuts in. “The house, the branch, Len-“

“That’s enough!” He cuts off gruffly, silencing Katja. You stroke your thumb over his knuckle, unsure of how to navigate him like this in front of his family. It’s different at home where you have a place, where it’s your job to step in and protect the boys from his angry bouts. But this is different, uncharted. You don’t have a spot in the lives of his family let alone a place to interject. Hell, you don’t even know the context of why Nico left either.

“Watch the tone Nico,” Rino says casually, “that’s your mother.”

Sighing, Nico shakes his head. “I’m here for the week, take it or leave it. And I didn’t come to answer questions you already have the answer for.”

You watch him look around the large table, meeting everyone gaze with a firmness he only gets on jobs and deals. When he receives a simple hum from his mother, he turns to you.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says quietly, rising from his seat. You follow his lead, pushing your chair back in and sharing a nervous look with Timo.

Nico addresses his parents. “I’m gonna show y/n around the grounds.” Then he’s nudging you towards the hall, large hand on your back as you go.

“Put on a coat Nico!” His mother calls after you and he waves over his head in acknowledgment. You’re silent all the way back to the front door, putty in Nico’s hands as he zips you into your winter coat and slips his beanie over your head.

Returning the favor, the zip his own coat for him, adjusting the collar and hood so his ears and neck stay warm.

Nico doesn’t return to being your Nico until the side door of the house is closing behind you. Immediately he’s attaching himself to you, hunching down to wrap his arms around your waist and tuck his face into your neck. Rising to your toes, you bundle your arms around him as best you can with all the thick winter layers between you.

Closing your eyes, you breathe in the cold air and just hold him for a moment. You don’t let go until he’s pressing a kiss to your jaw, straightening out his posture and looking at you with those moony eyes of his.

“Show me the grounds,” you mock in a posh voice giggling when he rolls his eyes and offers his elbow to you. Taking ahold of him, you tuck your hands into your pockets and let him guide you down the shoveled paths.

The grounds stretch on forever, through untouched wooded land and open plains of snow. Nico shows you a tennis court, a basketball court, the indoor hockey setup him and Luca used religiously as children. You trudge through the snow with him, winter air nipping at your nose and dry lips aching as your awe of the place kept growing and growing. Every ten steps was something new, some fond memory Nico’s dug up of his childhood.

“I almost broke my ankle trying to do cartwheels,” Nico laughs, gaze sweeping over the open area in which Nina apparently tried to teach Nico gymnastics. “She hadn’t even done gymnastics herself, but I wanted her to think I was cool so I did it.”

Giggling, you shake your head at him. “You can’t do a cartwheel?” You ask incredulously. Nico scoffs, shaking his head like it should be obvious. Releasing his arm, you strut to the open space in front of him and throw your arms up.

“Watch and learn Nico baby.” You tease, winking before executing a perfect cartwheel. The snow is cold on your hands, bites at your fingers but you do a couple more anyway just to show off.

Nico exclaims in surprise, staring at you with his jaw dropped and dimples in his cheeks. “Alright, just rub it in my face!” He complains and you laugh, giving him a bow. Leaning down he scoops up some snow, quickly packing it together. You have just enough time to curl into yourself before he’s throwing it at your torso.

Squealing, you dig your numb hands into the snow to throw one back. Dodging and ducking through laughter, you and Nico pelt each other with snow until your hands are so frozen you think they might fall off.

In surrender, you leap at him and throw your arms around his neck. The shock of your bitter cold fingers on his bare skin makes him jump and he goes crashing to the ground, taking you with him.

Luckily he breaks your fall, and the snow breaks his so it’s still giggles when you cup his jaw, sitting up to check him for injuries. He’s got snow in his hair and eyelashes, his cheeks and nose glowing red as he bites at his bottom lip to try and contain his smile.

“You’re so handsome,” you whisper, the words mostly spoken to yourself but in the large, silent estate they carry. Nico’s cheeks redden even more, eyes glimmering with love. Then, thinking of the cold man from whom Nico got his looks, you quickly add “inside and out.”

His face falls with realization, a look of sympathy flashing through his eyes. Not that he should be sympathetic about anything, these people didn’t raise you. “I should’ve warned you,” he says “I just didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want you to think I don’t love them because I do, they’re just different.”

The snow has begun soaking into your pants, stinging your skin and you imagine Nico’s butt must be just as cold. Yet he makes no move to get up, just stares up at you from the ground with those all-telling eyes of his.

“You warned me,” you say “maybe not intentionally but you did.” From wasting away the morning with you to the way he always had a protective hand on you today, Nico warned you the best way he knows how. With protective actions.

Brushing his hair off his forehead, you ask “wanna talk about it?” Nico sighs, cheeks puffing up as he does so and the cloud of his breath dances in between you. He agrees though, nodding for you to get up so you climb off his lap and take his hand to help him up.

Nico takes both of your hands in his, squeezing them before drawing the up to his lips. Eyebrows pinched together in concentration, he breathes hot hair in an attempt to warm them up for you. After a moment he squeezes them again, frowning when they’re still too cold for his liking.

Giggling, you pull your hands back and hug his arm. “I’m ok, let’s just go back and we can talk somewhere warm.”

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, Nico agrees. Oblivious to the figure looming on the balcony that overlooks the grounds, he leads you back towards the house, feet crunching in the snow.

~~~~

Clothes sopping wet and cold, you shuffle into Nico’s old bedroom and immediately begin shedding your winter layers. Unsure of everyone else’s whereabouts in the house, Nico closes the door and locks it before he too strips out of his clothes.

In just his boxers he disappears into the closet and you take the opportunity to look around his room. A large bed sits in the middle of the room, a fluffy blue quilt that matches the accent wall covering it. An old ratty teddy bear sits on the bed, looking out the large window across the room. The view is beautiful, snow covered mountains and white topped trees. There’s a desk in the corner, the top of it empty but the shelves have a few books and childhood awards scattered on them.

You tiptoe over, notice most of the awards have a soccer or hockey player on them. There’s one of a boy snowboarding and one engraved with a book, and though you can’t read them inscription, the year on them tells you that Nico was under 16 when he won all these.

A photo you’ve seen on his phone is hung up next to the desk, Luca and Nina holding a baby Nico on a beach somewhere, all chubby cheeks and blonde hair.

A poster of a Swiss tennis player hangs next to the bed, a few more photos scattered around the room. You don’t get the chance to examine them because Nico strolls back into the room with a ball of clothes in his hands.

“Not sure when these were last washed but it should be fine,” he shrugs, dropping the mess of items to the bed. He digs out a pair of boxers, some dark sweats, and a long sleeve for you. You happily accept the dry clothes, stripping out of your damp underwear and bra.

Nico’s Calvin’s are a little tight when you shimmy them up you hips but not uncomfortable. You pull the sweats on, rolling the waistband so they don’t hang over your feet. It’s not until you’re tugging the shirt over your head that you notice Nico is standing butt naked across from you, boxers in hand as he shamelessly watches you change.

Knowing where this going, you quickly pull the shirt on, raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Put that thing away and start talking Hischier.”

He chuckles, beginning to get dressed. You sit on the bed, reaching over for the teddy and pulling it into your lap. “What do you want to know?”

“I know how you ended up in Jersey,” you say, fingers rubbing at the soft fabric of the bears ear. “Inheritance from your grandfather and wanting to get away from here. But I always thought it was because you’re the youngest, ya know? You like to be in charge and you can’t do that with Luca and Nina being in line for everything,”

Nico lets you talk, pulling on his teeshirt and settling into the bed next to you.

“But your parents said everything was lined up. What did they mean?”

Nico sighs, eyes dropping to his lap and he fiddles with the tie on his sweats. You turn to look at him, walking the teddy bear across the mattress and plopping it in his lap. He doesn’t look at you but a dimple sinks into his cheek and he takes the bear from you.

“My parents were trying to branch out, stretch the business like they did sending Nina to France. They had this whole mock up of me using my inheritance to move to Germany and head everything there.

“But they wanted to send someone with me. This girl whose father does business with mine. We had a thing kind of when we’re younger, not dating but like when I wanted to be with someone she was there. So they added a wedding to the plan and invited her to join the family.”

There’s no reason to be jealous of this girl, whoever she is. You know that, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling a little nauseous thinking of his family picking out a wife for him.

“What did you say?” You murmur, slipping your fingers under his shirt and stroking the warm skin of his stomach. Nico picks at a thread on the bear, taking a deep breath.

“Nothing, to them. I took the money and some buddies and left. Told Nina I was starting my own family in Jersey, that I didn’t want to be married or in Germany.

“That’s how I got Timo, Sieges, and Bratter to join me. We’d all been friends for a while and they hated the girl. My parents didn’t know, but she’d been after Luca the whole time she was with me. He was too focused on taking over here in Switzerland though. That’s why she wanted him, she wanted to be the queen or whatever of Switzerland. “

“Why’d she agree to marry you then?”

Nico looks up now, shrugging. You inch closer to him, stomach feeling sick and he must know you don’t particularly like to hear this story because he nudges you into his lap. Straddling his thighs, you relax forward into his chest and let him wrap his arm around you.

“Because one of us was better than neither I guess. I had a feeling she assumed she could marry me and then convince me to push Luca out or something. I don’t know but I didn’t say a word to her either, I just left.”

You nod, the joke Timo made in the car earlier finally adding up. Nico was the prince lined up to be married and grow the business, to make his family stronger. Instead he took his power and his means elsewhere. He built his own kingdom.

“I think you’re so smart Nico,” you mumble, “not many 18 year old boys would be able to do what you did.”

Nico tucks the bear into your chest and you hug it. “I had help,” he says “but it was the best decision I ever made. I got you from it.”

His phone buzzes on the nightstand, interrupting you two. You feel him reach over for it, holding you tighter as he leans over.

“Nina invited us to go out tonight for drinks,” he says. “She wants to have fun without my parents around.”

“Is Timo invited?”

“Yes, Timo is invited.” Nico laughs, stroking your hair.

“Ok. I have to go home for new clothes though.”

Nico hums his agreement, still stroking your hair. You cuddle into him, hugging the teddy bear tighter as you sort through everything he told you. It’s impossible for you to see how some girl had Nico right in front of her, was lined up to spend the rest of her life with him and instead made him feel unwanted.

How could anyone not pick him? How was she not begging on her knees to run away to Jersey with him?

“Nico?”

“Yes baby?”

“I want you,” you whisper. “I always have and I always will. I’d do anything for you.”

You think of everything you’ve given up for Nico, the life you’d left behind for him and it doesn’t even phase you. Because he’s worth it, always worth it.

“Trust me, I know my love,” he assures but you can hear the relief in his tone. Then he’s giggling boyishly, digging his nose into the top of your head. “I knew as soon as met you that there was no getting rid of you.”

Blushing, you close your eyes and enjoy his embrace, enjoying a moment with just him.

~~~~

Luca owns the bar that Nina had invited you too. Technically the business owns it, but it was Luca’s investment plan that acquired it and it’s his staff that runs it.

You find that out as Nico leads you by the hip to the sectioned off tables in the back. Luca and a few other guys mill about the table, some you recognize from seeing around the house today. Nina is there too, her long hair pulled back into a slick pony and she’s sipping from a fruity cocktail with a blonde girl.

“You made it!” Luca greets upon seeing his brother, his demeanor much more welcoming and laidback than earlier. You let go of Nico’s hand so he can hug Luca again, his eyes crinkling as he laughs.

Timo bro-hugs Luca before disappearing back into the common area, most likely heading to the bar. You’re reaching for Nico’s hand again when Luca crouches down to meet your gaze, glossy eyes and smile shining at you.

He looks so much like Nico.

“There she is!” He shouts, charging you with open arms. You laugh in shock when he scoops you up in a hug, drink sloshing against your back as he sways back and forth.

“Hi Luca,” you giggle, awkwardly rubbing your hand up and down his back. “Nice to see you again.”

He drops you to your feet, gripping your elbow when you stumble. Not that it’s needed; Nico’s hand found your lower back as soon as your toes touched the polished floors.

“You know, I never understood why Nico loved Jersey so much,” he shouts over the music and chatter “but I get it now. I like you a lot even if my parents don’t.”

You’re not shocked to hear that but you dramatically gasp anyway. “Your parents don’t like me?!” You cry, holding a hand over your heart. “What’ll we ever do?”

Luca laughs at you, taking a swig of his beer before shaking his head fondly. “Fuck ‘em,” he says casually “Nico’s better off with you anyway.”

Your cheeks heat up at his words, flattered by the praise. You were hesitant about Luca earlier, not knowing if he liked you or not. He was harder to read than Nico and Nina but you assume that’s the oldest sibling in him.

Without another word he’s walking away, stumbling towards the pool tables with some friends. Nico leans in over your shoulder, nose brushing your temple.

“He’s a friendly drunk,” he explains “but he really does like you.”

You turn towards him. “He’s funny,” you say “I like him too.”

Pressing the lightest kiss to your cheekbone, Nico nods towards the bar. “Something with vodka?” He asks and you peek around him at Nina.

“I want what Nina is drinking.”

Amused, he nods and takes you by the hand. He approaches the booth, leaning over towards his sister to mumble something in her ear. You don’t hear what she says back but Nico straightens out, stepping out of the way and nudging you to sit down. Happily, you slide into the seat next to Nina and accept her giddy hug.

Nico sweeps your hair over your shoulder, squeezing your neck briefly before going to get your drink.

“Oh this is Maja,” Nina introduces you to her friend. You reach over the table to shake her hand and introduce yourself.

“I’m with Luca,” Maja tells you, her pretty blue eyes sparkling. “Sorry I missed lunch today, I tend to skip those gatherings as often as I can.”

“I totally understand!” You laugh,” I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”

Nina gasps, gripping your arms as she beams at you. “You’re gonna come back?!”

Giggling, you nod. “Well yeah, I know Nico misses you and Luca and it hasn’t been bad. Besides, it’s beautiful here!”

“You have to visit in the summer!” Maja tells you, “we can make fondue and float the river.”

Nina agrees telling you all about how that was Nico’s favorite thing to do when he was younger. Then she’s inviting you to France, telling you all about the beautiful French men and how much you’d love them.

You let her chatter on, laughing at her antics. French men aren’t exactly your forte, especially not when you’re dating a Swiss man but you can remind her about that later.

“Nina,” Nico interrupts, placing your drink in front of you. “are you trying to set my prinzessin up with a Frenchie?”

Sliding in next to you, he wraps his arm around your stomach and draws you back into his chest. His sister gapes at him, so shocked by his words she’s gone speechless and you shyly sip your drink.

“Prinzessin, Nico!” She gasps, holding her heart. Nina tells him something in Swiss German, reaching around you to excitedly shove her brother.

His response is also lost on you but you can tell by Nina’s moony eyes and how he hunches into you that it was something loving and sweet. “Soon, soon.” Nico finally says, taking a drink of his beer and setting it next to yours.

“Hey don’t talk about me when I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

Laughing, Nico presses a kiss to your temple. “Sorry baby,” he says, squeezing your shoulders. You turn to face him, sliding your leg over his lap.

“You didn’t tell me about Maja,” you murmur, fiddling with the straw in your drink. Nico’s eyebrows pinch together, lips pursing in confusion as he looks around the bar.

“Who?”

“Nico oh my god,” you gasp “Luca’s girlfriend-wife-whatever?”

Some clarity washes over his face and he giggles, glancing across the booth to Maja. Lowering his lips to your ear, “I thought her name was Maria,” he whispers and you laugh.

“I don’t know, Luca got with her after I left and he’s not chatty on the phone. For all I know he’s already married her.”

You look over your shoulder at her hand. “No ring,” you tell him “and I don’t think he’d get married without telling you.”

Nico shrugs, taking a swig of his beer before holding it out to you. You slide him your drink, trying the tangy beer he’s been nursing. It’s not bad but beer isn’t your favorite so you quickly hand it back.

“That’s sweet,” Nico says, smacking his lips and returning it to you. “Too sweet, Jesus Christ.” You laugh, snacking an arm around his shoulders and digging your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

“It’s not that bad,” you argue, guiding him closer to you. Smirking, those dark eyes of his dance across your face before settling on your lips. He does the rest of the work for you, capturing your mouth in a sloppy kiss.

“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back and swiping his tongue across his lips. “Better.”

His voice has that gruffness to it, heavy and thick, and not just because his accent is stronger now that he’s home. It makes your neck and ears feel hot, stomach flipping.

“No PDA in my bar Nico!” Luca’s shouting makes you jump, almost knocking Nico’s beer across the table and him and Timo snicker as they sit across from you.

“Bar PDA is his favorite,” Timo laughs, winking at you. “How do you think they ended up together?”

You can’t even argue with him. Nico is notorious for being handsy, especially when he’s out and drinking.

“Really?” Luca hums, slinging an arm around Maja. “It used be like pulling teeth just to get him to look at girl around here.”

And well, that’s news to you. Although you suppose if he planned on leaving Switzerland anyway and he had that girl to fool around with whenever he wanted, what’s the point? You’re well aware that he was never looking for love.

Nico quickly changes the topic, asking Timo about his day with his family tomorrow and you join Nina and Maja as they sift through songs on the online jukebox to play.

The queue stacks up, your drink starts to run out, and Nico leaves with Timo and his brother to go play pool. Nina leaves the phone with Maja, taking you by the hand to the bar where she orders more drinks and drops them on Nico’s tab. Not that it matters, you doubt he pays for drinks here anyway.

“I’m gonna head to the restroom,” you tell her, and she takes your drink back to the closed off section. The bathrooms are in the opposite back corner, a group of girls huddled in front of the door so you line up behind them.

Your phone buzzes in hand, Nico’s contact lighting up the screen and you almost laugh. Of course he noticed you were missing.

I’ve lost my pretty girl

Biting your lip, you text back bathroom break ♥️

The typing dots pop up and you’re anxiously awaiting his response when the conversation around you catches your attention. Specifically the mention of Nico’s name.

“He’s still as hot as ever,” a dark haired girl in front of you comments, and you keep your eyes on your phone so they don’t think you’re eavesdropping.

“Do you think she’s actually with him or is that just another fuck you to his parents?”

Nico’s text comes through, but you can’t focus enough to read it. “I mean, she doesn’t look his type so who knows. Didn’t he say he wasn’t into commitment Lena?”

Out of the corner of your eye, a tall and leggy brunette twirls her hair around her finger and shrugs. “If he were into commitment don’t you think he’d be with me right now? It’s definitely just to piss off his parents, I mean did you see the size of her? Typical American girl.”

Suddenly you feel sick, like everything you’ve ever eaten is choking up in your throat and about to spew all over the mean girls in front of you.

“I heard he put her in the family,” a quieter voice says. “Timo was talking about it at the bar with Luca. He’s calling her his princess.”

The leader-Lena, scoffs. “Princess? She hasn’t even got a pendent let alone a ring.”

Maybe this why Nico doesn’t talk about his exes. They’re mean and petty little girls, girls that haven’t moved on in over 5 years. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear though.

“Probably another one of his deals. He fucks her, she pretends to be serious with him for a family trip.”

“Why would he decide to come back now with a fake girlfriend?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Lena laughs, loud and proud. “He must have heard that I’m back at the estate.”

You decide that’s enough, pocketing your phone and clearing your throat. All the girls jump at the noise, turning to face you and you smile.

“Are you in line for the bathroom or just gossiping?” You ask politely, smirking as the color drains from all their faces. All except Lena, who looks you up and down before sheepishly nodding for you to go ahead.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You say, stopping in the doorway to look at her. “You’d think Luca would have bathrooms strictly for family but I guess not.”

Embarrassed, they all laugh awkwardly and you close the door behind you. What the fuck?

~~~~

By the time you’ve returned to the booth, you’ve shaken off the word of those girls. You trust Nico, you know Nico loves you, and high school bullies that pick on girls weight and nationality aren’t going to change that.

Nico is still playing pool, but he catches your eye and winks as you settle in next to Nina. Smirking, you blow him a kiss before Nina is handing you music rights. Sipping on your drink, you pull up your playlist on your phone and find the Swiss songs Nico likes. Adding his favorite to the queue you hand the phone back.

“How do you know that song?” Maja asks you, chewing on the end of her straw. You take another sip of yours.

“Nico plays it every time we’re in the car.” You say, catching the eye of Lena over Maja’s shoulder. She simply raises an eyebrow you, throwing back whatever shot is in hand and purses her lips.

“Hey, do you guys know her?” You suddenly ask, nodding towards the bar where Lena is now perched over the top to steal cherries from behind the counter.

“Oh,” Nina mumbles, laughing awkwardly. “Rino does business with her father and uh…”

“She was into Nico?” You supply, glancing over at your boyfriend. Maja bites her lip, hesitantly nodding.

“She was supposed to marry him.” Nina tells you, lowering her gaze to the table. Suddenly it all clicks; the comments about sleeping with him, about him not committing, about using me.

The song changes, the beat immediately catching the attention of Nico who stands up taller and looks over at you. You smile, wiggling your fingers at him as Nina laughs.

“I never thought Nico could be so romantic.” Maja teases you, not that you get it. The rap song is lost on you, any translation you’ve tried to look up being even more confusing. So you just enjoy the beat of it usually.

“What?”

Nina laughs, finally realizing that you can’t understand Swiss German. “It’s a love song,” she tells you, and then she’s pulling up the lyrics and translating them for you.

It’s a lot of nonsense, cute tidbits about how the artist loves the habits and traits of his lover. But the chorus is sweet, a declaration of him finding love after being told he would always be on his own.

Unable to help yourself, you swallow down the rest of your drink and scramble out of the booth. Nico is watching you, bottom lip caught between his teeth as you approach him. He’s leaning on the pool stick but as soon as you get close he’s moving it aside.

You crash into him, bury your nose in his hoodie and holding his waist tightly. “What’s her deal?” Luca slurs, but he goes ignored. Nico squeezes you just once, swaying side to side in time with the song.

Closing your eyes, you think of him singing along in the car, humming it in the shower while he washes your hair for you, blasting it through the house when you two clean together.

“Who translated it for you?” He finally murmurs, his smile present in his tone.

“Your sister,” you say, resting your chin on his chest and looking up at him. He’s all white teeth and dimples when you meet his gaze, eyes glimmering with pride. “Her and Maja think you’re very romantic.”

Nico shrugs but doesn’t argue. The pool balls clink behind you and then Timo is hollering. “Game over Luca, pay up.”

Luca mutters something in Swiss, heading to the bar with his head low. You let go of Nico, giving Timo a chance to high five you both.

“Let me teach you to play,” Nico tells you, handing you the pool stick. You follow him to the end of the table, letting him show you how to rack up the balls. Timo chalks up your stick for you, tells you about the cue ball.

And you go about your night, teaming up with Nico to play Timo. He stands behind you for every shot, large hands over yours on the pool stick and his warm chest tight against your back.

It feels so good to have him wrapped around you that you don’t even notice the staring eyes of Lena and her friends.

And you don’t bring her up to Nico, though you probably should’ve.

~~~~

#nico hischier #mob boss Nico Hischier #nico hischer x reader #mob boss au #Him and I #nhl #new jersey devils #nj devils #fluff

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theshift · 6 days

Text

The Distance

Ethan and Damian had been together for three years, but now, with work pulling them in different directions, they found themselves living in different cities. Their daily routine had shifted to frequent texts, video calls, and, most importantly, selfies. It was their way of keeping the spark alive, seeing each other's faces and bodies in playful, intimate snapshots that reminded them of what they were missing. Ethan would send his soft, understated poses, while Damian, being bolder, would send selfies with his arms flexed or behind his head, a look of pride in his eyes.

The long distance had been tough, though. No matter how many selfies they shared, Ethan found it hard not to miss the way Damian felt in his arms, his stocky build, and that familiar, rugged scent.

One day, as Ethan came home from work, he saw a package waiting at his doorstep. It was from Damian. The note inside was brief but personal: "Hope this gift helps you remember me every time you use it."

Curiosity piqued, Ethan opened the package. Inside was something unexpected—a full-body suit. But not just any suit. As he lifted it out of the box, he realized it was Damian. The suit was designed to look exactly like Damian’s body—broad shoulders, muscular arms, and even a beard that seemed too real to be synthetic. Ethan was speechless. The texture was eerily similar to Damian’s skin, the build felt right, and even the scent lingered.

Ethan chuckled to himself, already knowing what Damian had in mind. His hands shook slightly as he pulled the suit closer, feeling the weight of it. The inner lining was smooth and cool against his skin. Slowly, he stepped into it, starting with his legs. The suit stretched over his slender thighs, bulking them up as they matched Damian's muscular shape. He worked it over his hips and torso, each part of his body now transforming into a replica of Damian's stocky, powerful form.

As Ethan slid his arms into the suit, he noticed the muscles in the suit pressing against his skin, filling out the fabric. His arms were suddenly thick and toned, just like Damian’s. He caught sight of himself in the mirror and paused. It was surreal. There, staring back at him, was the image of Damian—his broad shoulders, chest, and arms. The detail in the suit was incredible, down to the faint scars and freckles that Ethan had memorized from running his hands over Damian’s body.

Then came the final step—the mask. Ethan lifted it up, hesitating for a moment before pulling it over his head. It fit snugly, but not uncomfortably. His curly hair disappeared under the mask, replaced by Damian's shorter, thick hair. The mustache Ethan once wore was now replaced with Damian's full beard. Ethan blinked, adjusting to the feeling of the suit completely enveloping him.

He turned back to the mirror. He was Damian. From the stocky, muscular build to the confident glint in his eyes. Ethan flexed his new biceps, mirroring the pose Damian often sent in his selfies—the one where he raised his arms above his head, flexing with an exaggerated, almost douchey face. He struck another pose, this time hands on his hips, chest puffed out, just as Damian would. It was bizarre, yet oddly comforting. For the first time in months, Ethan felt like Damian was right there with him.

He grabbed his phone and started snapping selfies, imitating every pose Damian had sent him over the past few months. Flexing, smirking, even that goofy pose where he held his arms behind his head, showing off his muscular frame with a cocky smile. Ethan couldn't help but laugh, sending the photos back to Damian with a simple message: "How did I do?"

Ethan stared at the last selfie he had just taken, flexing in the exact way Damian always did. It felt bizarrely natural—like he could embody Damian perfectly now that he had the suit on. As the thought sank in, an idea crept into his mind. What if he went out for the night as Damian? He’d been feeling the distance for months, missing not just Damian’s body but his presence—the way he carried himself, the easy confidence, the way his laugh could fill a room. Maybe this was his chance to feel close to him in a way he hadn’t since they’d been apart. A solo date—as Damian. Ethan looked into the mirror again, adjusting the collar of the shirt he was now wearing over the suit. The fabric clung to Damian’s muscular build, which Ethan was now wearing like a second skin. He rolled his shoulders back, mimicking Damian’s usual swagger. Ethan knew Damian's mannerisms by heart—the way he always took long strides, head slightly tilted back, a subtle grin on his face as if he were in on a private joke the world hadn’t caught onto yet. With a smirk, Ethan grabbed Damian’s favorite jacket—a leather one that added to his tough exterior—and slipped it over his shoulders. "Alright," he muttered to himself, adjusting his voice to match Damian's deep, rumbling tone. "Let’s see what this feels like." He stepped outside, the evening air cool against the suit, but he felt warm—strangely invigorated. The town felt different from this new perspective. Ethan made his way down the street toward a small bar that he and Damian had always loved, a spot they used to frequent for casual dates. He walked with a bit of Damian’s usual swagger, head held high, hands in his pockets, exuding confidence in every step. His body moved like Damian’s now, with the natural ease and slight cockiness that came from years of being in the body of someone who knew exactly how to draw attention. He arrived at the bar, and the moment he stepped inside, he noticed the glances. He hadn’t fully expected it, but people were looking. Damian had always turned heads wherever he went, and now he was the one drawing those looks. Ethan felt a jolt of excitement—being in Damian’s skin was empowering. He slid up to the bar, leaning casually against it, and gave the bartender a nod. “What can I get you?” the bartender asked, giving him the kind of glance Damian often got—one of appreciation, or maybe even slight intimidation. “Whiskey,” Ethan said, his voice deep and gruff like Damian’s. It felt strange, but thrilling, to speak like this.

As Ethan nursed his whiskey, leaning casually against the bar like Damian always did, he felt a sense of ease wash over him. For the first time since Damian had sent the suit, he wasn’t just wearing it—he was Damian. The muscles, the swagger, the attitude... It all felt right. But then the test came, a test Ethan hadn't anticipated.

“Damian?” a voice called from behind him.

Ethan stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. Slowly, he turned around, locking eyes with a tall, athletic man wearing a friendly grin. It was Tyler, one of Damian’s old friends. Ethan’s mind raced. They had met once, briefly, but Ethan doubted Tyler would recognize him now, not with the suit on. But Tyler knew Damian—his speech patterns, his mannerisms. If Ethan wasn’t convincing enough, the jig would be up in an instant.

“Hey, man!” Tyler approached, clasping Ethan on the shoulder in a familiar way. “Haven’t seen you around in a minute. Thought you moved out of town.”

Ethan forced a smirk, pulling on Damian’s casual, confident tone. “Nah, just been busy with work. You know how it is.”

Tyler laughed. “Same old Damian. You still hitting the gym every morning, huh? Don’t know how you keep this bulk on with that schedule of yours.”

Ethan flexed his arm slightly, mimicking the way Damian always responded to compliments about his build. “Gotta keep up the routine, man,” he replied with a cocky grin, trying to mirror Damian’s playful energy.

Tyler nodded approvingly and ordered a drink. The conversation continued, but Ethan was hyper-aware of every word, every gesture. He mimicked Damian’s relaxed, yet confident posture, nodding when Tyler talked about their shared gym sessions, even throwing in some gym lingo that he remembered from Damian. Ethan felt the tension rise with every interaction, but Tyler didn’t seem to notice anything off.

“So, what’re you doing here tonight, man?” Tyler asked, taking a sip of his beer. “Thought you were more of a date-night guy when you came to this place.”

Ethan swallowed, maintaining his Damian-like composure. “Ah, you know, just thought I’d fly solo tonight. Needed a break, some time to clear my head.”

Tyler gave him a knowing look. “Right, right. Well, don’t go too long without seeing your man. You’re a lucky bastard, and you know it.”

Ethan laughed, playing along, though it was a bittersweet reminder of Damian’s absence. Tyler clinked his glass against Ethan’s and the two shared a few more laughs, but soon, Tyler’s phone buzzed.

“Gotta run,” Tyler said, giving Ethan a quick pat on the back. “Good catching up, bro. Let’s hit the gym next time you’re free.”

“Yeah, man. Sounds good,” Ethan replied, waving Tyler off.

As Tyler left the bar, Ethan exhaled a long, relieved breath. He had passed. Tyler didn’t suspect a thing. He had impersonated Damian perfectly—his voice, his mannerisms, even the subtle way he moved and spoke. For a brief moment, Ethan wasn’t just wearing Damian’s skin; he was Damian in every sense of the word. It was exhilarating, nerve-wracking, and, oddly, comforting all at once.

Ethan took a sip of his whiskey, the adrenaline still rushing through him. The thrill of having to embody Damian so perfectly left him almost giddy. As he looked around the bar one last time, he realized how easy it had been. He had seamlessly slipped into Damian’s life, impersonating him so convincingly that even Damian’s friend couldn’t tell the difference.

A grin tugged at Ethan’s lips. The suit wasn’t just a way to feel close to Damian—it was a tool, a way to become him whenever Ethan wanted. The possibilities were endless, and for the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel the sting of distance between them.

He sent one final selfie to Damian that night, a stoic look on his face, striking a classic Damian pose—arms up, flexing. Along with the photo, he sent a simple message: I think I’ll be putting this suit to good use babe.

#malebodysuit #male body suit #male shapeshift #maleshapeshift #male body swap #malebodyswap #male transformation

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perotovar · 7 months

Text

baby, i'm-a want you — (ch 2) "session two"

gif by me

pairing: javier peña/joel miller rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 4.3k content: use of a plug, throat fucking, ass eating, lots of spit, gratuitous descriptions of cum, unprotected p in a, creampie, (safe) breathplay, background handjob, cock slapping, one (1) spank, joel's porn persona is a tad mean but it's nothing crazy, shy!joel, javi is a HUGE flirt, smoking, lmk if i missed anything! dividers: @saradika-graphics betas: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily angels ♥)

series summary: javier peña has been doing this a long time. he's really good at his job. joel miller? not so much. he started doing this to get some extra cash to support his daughters. what happens when they're supposed to do a scene together? aka, the au where javier and joel are gay porn stars~

series masterlist | shoutout to this spanish dirty talk reference

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary ♥

“Fuck.”

Javier hadn’t had to prepare in a while. At least a few months. And the fact that he was doing this for Joel, of all men? He was harder than a fucking rock and he hadn’t even gotten the plug all the way in yet. Granted, he’d purposely chosen a smaller plug so he could still feel the stretch when Joel pushed that thick–

“Mierda,” he groaned, looking over his shoulder to see if he could get a better angle. The plug he chose was small, black, and a little thinner than he would normally go for. It’s been a while, so no matter what, there was a stretch but the lube certainly helped. When his hole finally sucked it in lewdly, he moaned, arching his back like a cat presenting himself to a mate. He grinned to himself and rested his head on his folded arms, ass in the open air of his apartment.

He wished that his first major scene with Joel wasn’t a scene. He wanted to see if Joel was any different when the cameras weren’t on and he could just be himself. Every time he’s ever talked to Joel, he’d been quiet, with a heavy brow. Javier had been around the block once or twice and he could tell when someone didn’t like him. He’s not sure what he did to get on Joel’s bad side, but he hoped that tension added to the scene instead of making things awkward. And part of him liked the rift. It made Joel way more attractive to him, because Joel was probably the closest the site had to a bear, but not as big. Javier had always wanted to be fucked by one–

Bzz. Bzz.

Cracking open an eye, Javier looked as his phone lit up next to him. He sighed and started rolling his hips side to side, slowly getting used to the feeling of being filled up again.

R u ready ?

“Who still texts like this, Jesus Christ,” he grumbled to himself. A slow trickle of sweat fell down the length of his back as he started typing a response.

Be there shortly, boss.

Javier rolled his eyes to himself. Max was always on his ass about being on time, but it never bothered him. They couldn’t start the shoot without him anyway. His cock throbbed between his legs, making him curl his fingers around his shaft.

One quick wank couldn’t hurt right?

Joel was panicking, to put it mildly. He showed up to the shoot way too fucking early and now he was rocking a semi in the hallway outside the room they’d be using. They, meaning him and Javier, because of course he hadn’t fully processed that that was still happening. He couldn’t get the image of Javier’s mouth around his cock, that mustache framing it so perfectly. Or his hole being stretched by Joel’s cock, or even–

“Hey, big guy.”

The words sounded like they were coming from down the hall and directly in his ear simultaneously. He slowly looked up to find Javier smirking down at him. Joel swallowed around a lump in his throat and cleared his throat awkwardly. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Javier looked really fucking good – when didn’t he – with a healthy glow and slightly tousled hair. Had he freshly cleaned up his mustache this morning?

“Joel?” Javier chuckled, a soft smile coloring his features.

Joel cleared his throat again and stood awkwardly. “S-sorry, uh, hey,” he mumbled, looking down at his boots before keeping his eyes off of Javier’s, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Where ya been?”

It was meant to be casual conversation, he swears, but he’d lowered his voice and it came out all gruff and accusatory and now he wants to hide in the broom closet. He knows this because the easy, relaxed look on Javier’s changed to one of confusion.

“Uh, preparing. Sorry, I know I was a little later than usual,” Javier exhaled. Guess he was right; Joel wasn’t the biggest fan of his. That’s fine, he was a professional and he could get his job done and go home. “See you in there, hombre.”

Joel blinked a couple times, looking at the empty area of the hallway where Javier was just standing. “W-wait,” he grunted, looking toward the room. Javier was digging into the pocket of the robe he was wearing and lighting up a cigarette, blowing the smoke away from the face of the assistant he was talking to.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Joel grumbled to himself and stepped inside.

Javier wasn’t opposed to an audience per se, but he wasn’t expecting one today either. “What are you cabrones doing here?” He smirked, looking at the faces of his coworkers. Not all of them were here, but Dieter, Shane, Dave, Marcus, Din, Steve, Cobb, and Jack were. Everyone was in various positions of comfort, some sitting and some standing or leaning. Except Dieter, who was sitting on Din’s lap comfortably, resting his head on the bulkier man’s shoulder.

“Wanted to see the show, of course,” Dieter grinned, winking at him. Joel stepped onto the set and saw all the men. He gave Dieter a look, and Dieter responded with a softer smile as if to say, You got this.

Javier rolled his eyes and smiled. “Alright, whatever, you perverts.”

“Alright, people, let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got a longer one ahead of us and I’ve got a date tonight.”

Everyone froze and looked at Max like he grew a third eye.

Max frowned. “It’s not that rare– Y’know what, fuck you guys. Joel, Javi, get into position,” he grumbled, sitting in his director’s seat.

Javier looked at Joel and snorted, untying his robe. He threw it to their audience like they were a bunch of fans, and laughed when Marcus caught it. Javier winked at him, making the slightly younger man’s cheeks flush.

Joel was doing his damndest not to bust a fucking nut right now because obviously Javier was naked. That was his fucking job. That was his fucking job, too.

“Joel,” Dieter whispered. Joel looked at him, a slightly panicked look on his face. Dieter motioned for Joel to come over to him, so the older man did. “What’s goin’ on, huh?” Dieter asked quietly. Joel looked at Din wearily, who just smiled politely. “Oh, he’s not gonna say anything,” Dieter smiled, leaning over to give Din a quick kiss.

“‘M just,” Joel sighed. “Think he thinks I don’ like him.”

“Why would he think that?” Dieter pouted. When Joel didn’t answer right away, Dieter furrowed his brows at him. “Did you do that grumbly thing you always do?”

Joel mumbled under his breath and looked down at his boots.

“Miller! Get in frame,” Max barked.

Joel sighed and ruffled Dieter’s hair a little. “Showtime.”

Javier felt like his throat was on fire, tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he was having a hard time breathing. Joel’s cock felt so thick and hard inside his mouth and he was more turned on than he’d been in a long fucking time.

“Yeah, shut ya up real good, huh?”

Javier moaned weakly, big brown eyes glassy as they looked up at Joel’s hard face. He choked every time the head of Joel’s cock hit the back of his throat but he couldn’t give a damn. This was probably the messiest head he’d ever given someone, slobber pouring out the sides of his mouth and down Joel’s shaft.

Joel’s lines had instructed him to tell Javier to keep his hands to himself, so of course he obeyed. He dug the blunt nails of his fingers into his bare thighs so hard he was afraid that he’d break skin.

“Ain’t such a brat now that y’got a cock in your mouth, huh?” Joel sneered, tugging on Javier’s thick locks. Joel’s eyes were glued to Javier’s plump, swollen lips wrapped so tightly around his cock, that perfectly trimmed mustache framing them so beautifully. A full body shiver zipped down his spine when he saw the glossed over look in Javier’s eyes and tear tracks staining his cheeks. He shut his eyes in bliss and exhaled heavily as his hips moved of their own accord, his heavy balls slapping Javier’s chin lewdly.

Javier let out a low noise, his brows furrowing slightly. Joel looked down, worried he’d pushed too far, but saw that Javier was looking up at him with this fucking look in his eye. Even if Joel was technically in charge, at least in the script, he knew Javier had him hook, line, and sinker right now. And he thinks Javier knows that, too.

Joel’s hips bucked at the twinkle in Javier’s eye, making Javier choke loudly. Slowly, Joel removed his cock from Javier’s swollen mouth. Loud, wet coughs left Javier’s lips, but he looked at Joel with a smirk on his face.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me, old man,” Javier rasped, sweat dripping down his neck.

“But you’d like that, wouldn’ya?” Joel grumbled. His cock throbbed heavily between thick, muscled thighs and Javier couldn’t take his eyes off it. The twitching made his own cock weep at the sight. “S’what I thought,” Joel hummed, harshly gripping Javier’s hair again. He curled thick fingers around the base of his cock and lewdly slapped the head against Javier’s tear-stricken face.

Javier’s entire body shivered at the demeaning act and he bit his lip, looking at the hard lines in Joel’s face, and at the gray streaks in Joel’s hair. He was easily one of the most menacingly beautiful men he’d ever seen. He kissed and licked and sucked down the shaft of Joel’s cock until he sucked one of his heavy balls into his mouth. He moaned happily around the sensitive skin and looked back up at Joel through his lashes.

“Fuck me,” Joel groaned, breaking character slightly. He couldn’t fucking help it. Not when Javier was looking at him like that.

Javier made an approving sound and lewdly popped the ball out of his mouth, kissing up Joel’s soft, hairy stomach. “That’s my line,” he improvised with a grin, and sucked a dark mark into Joel’s hip.

Joel almost smiled, but at the last moment, remembered they were in fact not alone and had a script to follow. He quickly hardened his eyes and gripped Javier’s arms and manhandled him until Javier was laying over the arm of the couch, cock trapped between his body and the scratchy fabric.

“That what y’want, huh?” Joel grunted, gripping Javier’s ass in a bear paw. “Want me t’fuck this little ass until ya can’t walk no more?”

Javier moaned and arched his back, pushing his ass further into Joel’s hand and tried to grind against his cock. He nodded as much as he could with Joel pulling on his hair like he was, throat bared and panting hard. Joel pressed on Javier’s sweaty back to keep him down, before using both hands to slowly spread his cheeks. He groaned at the puckered little hole, carefully covered in lube from his earlier preparation. Pressing there with the pad of his thumb, he smirked when Javier moaned weakly below him.

“P-please, Joel,” Javier breathed heavily. Javi didn’t even recognize the sound of his own voice. He’d been built up too much and poked and prodded enough that he just needed something inside him already. “Please.”

“Hmm,” Joel hummed, pretending like he was thinking about it. He removed his hands from Javier to finally remove the t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. He could’ve sworn he heard someone from their little audience groan as his naked body was revealed, but he chose to ignore it, far too focused on the sight in front of him. “Don’t think so, sweetheart,” he grinned wickedly, his tone fake-sweet, and collected saliva in the back of his throat. He got down to his knees, thankful that the pillow there would be out of frame in the finished product. He spit directly onto Javi’s hole and gripped the small, plump cheeks in both hands.

Javier gasped weakly, legs trembling under Joel’s ministrations. Joel was going to fucking kill him.

“Not yet, at least,” Joel mumbled, biting one of Javier’s cheeks before licking a thick stripe up from Javier’s taint to the top of his hole. A breathless huff left Javier’s lungs and his eyes rolled back at the feeling. “Y’mouth makes such pretty noises when ya ain’t runnin’ it,” was all the warning Javier had before Joel’s tongue pierced his hole and started fucking him in earnest.

Joel’s tongue was thick and wet and messy and he sucked loudly and slurped at a volume that should’ve been uncomfortable, but all Javier could do was moan and whimper, completely at Joel’s mercy. His eyebrows were downturned and his lips were parted in an obscene O, arms shaking as he held himself up on the couch. “Mm, fuck, J-Joel, I’m gonna fucking come, I’m–!” He was babbling and trembling and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He barely heard anything over the roaring in his ears.

“No, you’re not,” Joel grumbled between the lewd feast he was enjoying, landing a harsh smack! against one of Javier’s cheeks. “Don’t come until I say ya do.”

Javier groaned and bit his lip, his trapped cock weeping and throbbing between his legs. “Mierda,” he panted, hanging his head low between his shoulders. He tried grinding against the scratchy fabric of the couch for some kind of friction, but to no avail.

Joel grunted into Javier’s ass, convinced that he could stay here for hours if he was allowed. When he pulled his face away, his eyes latched onto the fluttering little hole in front of him and hummed in satisfaction. As he stood, his knees whined and creaked in protest and hopefully, if Max were nice to him for once, he’d edit the sounds out.

Broad hands traveled up Javier’s heated skin, taking him all in as he panted heavily underneath the older man. He knew today would be good but nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Maybe he should keep his distance from Joel more often, if this was the end result.

Joel was ecstatic on the inside, the memories of their first scene together coming back to him. He’d almost forgotten just how pliant and cat-like Javier could get if pushed enough. The sounds he made were like music to Joel’s ears, and he wished he could keep them in a bottle reserved just for himself.

He gripped Javier’s sides and manhandled him again until Javier was on his knees on one of the cushions and facing the back of the couch, hands planted on the back. Joel spread Javier’s cheeks again and hummed at the way the younger man clenched on instinct. He left Javier in that position for a second while he went over to an assistant off camera and grabbed some lube, making quick work of getting his cock thoroughly coated. He held Javier’s side, right where his ribs were, with one hand and gripped his cock with the other, grinding his shaft between Javier’s cheeks.

Javier cried out loud, electricity shooting through his body and settling as heat at the base of his spine.

Joel grinned, tapping the head of his cock against Javier’s hole before slowly, agonizingly so, pushed the thick head inside him. The air left Javier’s lungs as he froze, the pressure and the weight of being so thoroughly stretched overwhelming him. He grunted as Joel’s hips sat flush against his ass, breathing heavily as his arms trembled against the back of the couch. Joel stroked Javier’s flanks, letting him adjust for only a moment before he pulled out until just the head was left inside and slammed back inside.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck...” Javier moaned, his back arching.

“Aww, you’re alright,” Joel smirked. He hovered over Javier’s body, nearly covering him entirely with how much bulk there was. He curled an arm over Javier’s right shoulder and gripped onto the younger man’s left pec to press Javier’s back into his chest. He kissed along Javier’s shoulder and up his neck until he nibbled on Javi’s earlobe, moaning lowly as the younger man clenched around his shaft. “Y’gonna be good? Gonna let me fuck ya?”

“Sí, coño– Please, Joel,” Javier whined, resting his head on Joel’s shoulder and panting into the open air. “Por favor damelo.”

So Joel did. Before either of them knew it, Joel was fucking into Javier in earnest, his hips slapping against Javier’s ass obscenely. Javier was making the neediest little sounds, chanting Joel’s name like a prayer. Javier’s cock was hard as a rock and lewdly slapping against his skin with every one of Joel’s harsh thrusts.

Joel hid his face in Javier’s neck, panting hotly against the younger man’s already damp skin. With his right arm already wrapped around Javier’s torso, he gripped at Javier’s hip with his left hand, fingers digging into the (surprisingly) soft skin. Javier didn’t have a whole lot of fat on his body, but there was enough to ripple every time Joel jackhammered into him.

“F-fuck,” he gulped, lips parted and eyes half lidded. The pressure was building low in his abdomen. He knew he was close. “J-Joel, I’m–” His mouth was as dry as the desert. “I’m gonna come, I–”

Joel growled. Literally. He bit Javier’s cheek and growled. “Not yet. Jus’ a li’l longer,” he panted. He moved his hand from Javier’s pec to his throat, and carefully, expertly, squeezed the sides. They’d talked about doing this with Max and both had consented to it. They knew how to do it right.

Slowly, as Javier’s air supply was marginally cut off, a wide smile grew on his face. His eyes shut and he was smiling, biting his lip. He felt so fucking good. He wanted to do this again and this time wasn’t even over yet.

Joel must have noticed because he chuckled next to Javier’s ear, hips never letting up once. “Yeah? Feel good, sweetheart?”

Javier nodded as much as he could, nails digging into the shitty couch and pulling hard.

“Good boy,” Joel rumbled, slowing down his hips, but not letting up on how hard he was thrusting. Javier’s breath hitched with every one of Joel’s slow, measured thrusts. Joel’s hand slid from Javier’s hip down to curl around the younger man’s cock. It was like someone had poured ice cold water over Javier’s head, because the pressure was just what he’d needed.

“S-sí, sí, please, p-please,” Javier gasped, a tear falling from his eye.

“Fuck, look at ya,” Joel marveled, slowly stroking Javier’s cock teasingly. “Pretty as a god damn picture, sweetheart.”

Javier opened his eyes as wide as he could and tried looking at Joel for the first time since he was on his knees. When their eyes locked, Javier could have sworn that there was a different man behind Joel’s baby browns. Perhaps that was the real Joel, and not whoever was on camera. Not whoever had been avoiding him for the better part of two years. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“Want ya t’come for me,” Joel breathed hotly against his face. Javier shivered all over and nodded as much as he could with Joel’s bear paw of a hand around his throat. “Can ya do that, sweetheart? Come for me.”

Javier grunted as Joel picked up the pace of his hips again, but this time with his other hand tightly gripped around his shaft. Joel teased the head with his thumb just as he slammed directly into Javier’s prostate over and over.

Javier cried weakly, one more tear falling from his eye, and came hard. Thick, creamy spurts of cum painted the set’s couch as Javier trembled with his release.

Joel held him close, their sweaty bodies sticking together as Joel thrust one, two, three more times and followed Javier over the edge. He came with a low roar buried into Javier’s neck and cock twitching violently in Javier’s ass.

The set was dead silent save for Joel and Javier’s heavy breathing. Max kept the camera rolling, stunned into silence for once.

Javier smiled to himself, eyes shut in bliss, and head resting on Joel’s shoulder. He clenched around Joel’s sensitive cock in little pulses. “Fuck me,” he croaked, voice wrecked.

Joel grunted at the overstimulation and gently held Javier’s hips as he slowly pulled out. Javier leaned forward against the back of the couch and pushed his ass out so the camera (and their audience) could see the thick cum trailing down his thighs. Joel’s hands rubbed Javier’s skin appreciatively at the sight, his cock giving one last valiant twitch.

“C-cut,” Max’s voice cracked, making him clear his throat. “Cut.”

In the corner, Dieter trembled and moaned weakly into Din’s neck as he came, Din’s thick fingers curled around his cock.

Javier turned his head back to look at Joel with a satisfied smile on his face. “Mind gettin’ me a towel, guapo?”

Joel’s cheeks flushed, completely out of character again. “‘Course,” he mumbled, slowly standing to ask one of the assistants for a towel.

“Jesus Christ, boys,” Max chuckled.

Javier hummed in agreement.

“That was… That was somethin’ else, Jav,'' Steve said, impressed.

They were both outside, having their usual post-shoot cigarette together. No matter if they’d done a scene together or separately, they always kept up the tradition. This time, though, Javier thought he’d need several cigarettes. And a bath.

“Thank you,” Javier grinned, feeling lighter and more satisfied than he had in weeks. He could swear that the crick in his neck he’d woken up with was completely gone. Maybe there was some truth to Silva’s back pain disappearing after certain sessions.

“S’pose ya don’t gotta tell me, since I saw it myself, but was it like you thought it’d be?” Steve chuckled.

Javier snorted in response, taking a long drag off his cigarette. “And then some.”

Din smiled gently down at Dieter, giving him a slow, soft kiss. “I’ll see you tonight?”

Dieter smiled wide and nodded giddily, getting on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Din’s neck one more time to give him another kiss. Joel could swear he saw hearts in his eyes.

Once Dieter came back over to Joel, he had a sheepish expression on his face. “Sorry, just had to say goodbye.”

Joel smiled softly. “Don’ worry yourself over it. Y’all are cute together.”

“You think?” Dieter beamed. “We had a scene the other day and we just haven’t stopped texting, and– Oh my god, this isn’t about me right now, I’m sorry.”

Joel chuckled and followed Dieter into the hallway so the cleaning crew could get to work. Dieter scratched at his beard as he looked at Joel: he seemed lighter, with a healthy glow radiating off of him.

“Well?”

Joel cleared his throat and dug his hands into his pockets, shrugging a little. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, old man! That was fucking hot! I came so hard!”

Joel laughed, rolling his eyes at his friend. “Thank you.”

“So? You gonna ask him out? Or at least apologize for earlier?”

“Yeah, I will. And uh… Yeah, I plan to,” Joel sighed, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Don’t exactly know how I’m gonna do that, though…”

“Well, you better think of something quick!” Dieter whispered, pointing towards the end of the hall as Javier rounded the corner with Steve.

“Shit,” Joel whispered to himself. Dieter gave him a wink and thumbs up before heading in the opposite direction.

Javier had his regular clothes on again, and Joel couldn’t take his eyes off him, enamored with how well they fit him. He may have just been inside the man, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Hey, Joel,” Javier smiled awkwardly. He still wasn’t sure where they stood outside of working together, so he tried to keep it as casual as possible.

“H-hey, Javier,” Joel said hoarsely. He cleared his throat again.

“Y’know, you’re the only one that doesn’t call me Javi,” he said softly.

“Oh,” Joel furrowed his brow. “‘M sorry. My mama always taught me an’ my baby brother it was more polite that way.”

“You have a baby brother?” Javier smiled.

“Uh…” Joel gulped. “Y-yeah. Tommy.”

Javier hummed in response, an amused look crossing his features. He’s slowly figuring Joel out, he thinks. “He just as handsome as you? Bet he is,” he flirted.

The tips of Joel’s ears went pink and he laughed around an awkward cough. “Nah. Don’ cut his hair enough to be respectable.”

“Mm, more to pull then,” Javier smirked.

Joel made a face, not wanting to think of his brother like that. “L-listen, uh. ’m sorry ‘bout earlier. Wasn’t right talkin’ to ya like that,” he mumbled, unable to look Javier in the eye just yet.

Every bit of tension Javier felt left his body in an instant. “Thank you. I appreciate that, Joel.”

Joel nodded, a shy smile on his face. “‘S good,” he said awkwardly.

They were quiet for a few moments before Javier pulled out his pack of cigarettes, sticking one between his lips. “Well, you built up quite the appetite in me, so I’m gonna go–”

“Do you wanna go out sometime?” Joel blurted out. “N-now, maybe?”

Javier blinked a few times as a smile grew on his lips. “You’re asking me out? Gotta be honest, I thought you hated me, Joel.”

Joel snapped his eyes up at that, confusion all over his face. “What? No! I–” He sighed. “‘M no good at this,” he grumbled to himself. “’m sorry. Again.”

Javier chuckled and took the cigarette out of his mouth. “‘s alright. I’d love to.”

“Yeah?” Joel smiled, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

“Yeah, guapo. You already got dessert, but dinner sounds great.”

#javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena smut #narcos au #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou au #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #oaksfics

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lilliumrorum · 8 months

Text

What does he have that I don't? (Part Two)

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Synopsis: After getting comfortable in your captain's dwelling, you experience a dream involving him, intensifying your desire for the man.

WC: 3k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Soft Price, fluff, Cheating, kind of pining?, Wet dreams, Masturbation.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've had lots of fucking issues with tumblr and I am proper pissed off. Exams have been kicking my ass too, but I'll make sure to write an extra long chapter next time!

In this situation, unlike others, you wouldn't yearn for Simon's touch. The absence of affection from him for months has built a resistance to missing that once addictive sensation. Tears welled up once more as you reflected on the abuse endured just to cling to the shattered fragments of your 'relationship'. Desiring a different reality, you found yourself in a challenging situation, torn between lingering feelings for your lost love and developing admiration for your captain.

Concluding the scorching shower, the realization struck that a towel was forgotten. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you pondered how such a simple thing could be overlooked. An uneasy hope lingered that the captain remained undisturbed in his slumber, as a preemptive guilt surfaced. The idea of waking him up intensified that internal conflict, leaving you in a contemplative state after the steam had dissipated. Standing there, damp and hesitant, you grappled with the consequences of a neglected towel and the possibility of disrupting your captain's peace.

Your hand unlocked the door, cracking it open just a bit.

"John?"

"Mm?" His deep voice echoed from the couch.

You felt a sense of relief upon realizing he wasn't in bed yet.

"I… may have forgotten to grab a towel," you admitted with a nervous tone.

You heard his soft footsteps moving down the hall and passing by the bathroom. As soon they approached the room you made sure to narrow the crack of the open door, ensuring you wouldn't accidentally flash him. A sturdy silhouette stood behind it, holding a towel. Cautiously peeking around, you gently retrieve it from his grasp.

He stared at you for a moment, gazing at your damp hair and shoulders before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Don't make my floor too wet, Sergeant." He said with a breath before trekking back to the couch.

You slowly closed the door, releasing a heavy breath you didn't realize you were holding. It felt as if butterflies had been swirling around in your stomach, cheeks burning like fire as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The butterflies were nothing novel; in fact, they were a constant presence. Every time you worked near him your heart fluttered.

The salt-and-pepper mustache that quirked up when he smiled made your heart do flips. His hands, aged yet firm, with thick fingers calloused from years of service made you fantasize about what they would feel like inside you. The quick waves you received when he walked past you, his combat pants fitting him just right made for an easy distraction. Doing paperwork with him late at night presented itself a challenge. Your brain was constantly fuzzy whenever you looked at him.

At this point, you couldn't distinguish whether it was him making you shudder or your own nakedness. The stark contrast in temperature from your shower to the chilling air heightened your eagerness to get dressed. The towel rubbing against your skin brought a soothing sensation to your mind, interrupting your thoughts about him.

"You did so good f'me, lovie. Such a good fucking girl." He praised, slowly pulling out of your fluttering cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of being empty after being stuffed full for so long.

"I love you, Simon." you whispered breathlessly.

He gazed at you, searching your eyes for some sort of hidden plan, or trickery. He found nothing but adoration.

"I love you too." He whispered as he got up, searching for the towel he had placed somewhere, you reached out and gently wrapped your hand around as much of his toned arm as you could before he moved too far.

He glanced at you, his expression filled with curiosity.

"Si, can you promise me something?"

"What is it doll?"

"Don't leave me."

"What kinda promise is that? I'm never gonna leave you. Hell, I'm stuck on you."

You smiled at his words.

But he broke that promise. He left you, a ghost in his place.

"Captain, is it alright if I get dressed in the bedroom?" You uttered your words with a delicate tone as you stepped out into the hall.

His head shifted in the direction of your voice, his attention lingering on your legs briefly before his gaze ascended to meet your face. He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. Your posture started to shift as nervousness crept in, especially with his eyes on your barely covered body. He seemed to take notice, offering a smile before he spoke.

"Of course dove, that's where you're sleeping anyway." He spoke with a tone that held weariness.

"Oh no you don't ha-" as soon as you spoke you were interrupted.

"I said that's where you're sleepin' and that's that. Don't argue with me, sergeant." He commanded.

You raised your hands in the air, signaling surrender, before letting out a laugh and walking back to his bedroom.

The scent of everything was reminiscent of him, when you opened his closet, the aroma of cinnamon and pine struck you instantly. You breathed in his scent and felt a bit more at ease. Why did everything about him have to evoke such a strong sense of comfort and familiarity?

If you didn't move past this childlike crush soon, you'd end up with more issues than you're already grappling with. He could be your father for Christ's sake!

You shook your head, as if the thought would dissipate, while grabbing some pajama shorts and a tank top. The clothes were rather revealing, but John would surely understand if he saw them. Your intention was to return home to Simon, not to him. When you left, there was no time to retrieve your clothes, as you aimed to escape the situation as smoothly as possible.

Your body ached for sleep, going without it for what seemed like ages.

Turning the light off and slipping into bed, a subtle shift occurred in your thoughts, and the image of John began to weave its way into your consciousness like a gentle melody. In the calm moments preceding sleep, his laughter echoed, and the warmth of his gaze painted the canvas of your contemplations. The memory of John intertwined seamlessly with the comforting embrace of his sheets, creating a space where the lines between reality and the fanciful dance of imagination became hazy. With each closing of your eyes, dreams unfolded, casting John as the silent protagonist in the tales that quietly unfolded in the realm of your weary mind.

In the silent corners of your thoughts, dreams took shape, painting a picture where you were romantically involved with John. Scenes of stolen glances and hidden meetings unfolded, with the forbidden nature of it all adding an exhilarating edge to the fantasy. In these vivid dreams, shared moments created a connection that surpassed the ordinary reality surrounding you. However, these fantasies were kept as a personal refuge—a brief escape within the private chambers of your mind, where the blurred lines of possibility flirted with the edges of longing.

"Tell me what you want, dove. What do you need from me?" he breathed in a solaced whisper.

His rugged hands worked at your body, roaming across your naked form as you tried your hardest to utter a word, mumbling nonsense. He hadn't taken your panties off yet, the cloth becoming more and more wet by the second.

"Words, sweetheart. I need to know what you want from me." His fingers teasing your clit in soft, circular motions.

"John- Oh shit! I need them inside! Please!" You practically sobbed.

Everything in this moment completed you. His waist was stationed between your legs as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. At this point you were a whining mess for him. You were too distracted with your pleasure to realize he had pulled your panties to the side, thick fingers lined up with your sopping hole.

"God, you're perfect."

The captain's eyes snapped open upon hearing sounds emanating from the bedroom. Initially thinking it might be crying, he knocked on the door once.

With no response, he opened the door to investigate, finding you helplessly whimpering and pressing your thighs together in your sleep.

He was well Aware that intruding was not right, but he lingered a little longer, drawn by the sweet serenade of your voice. Going back to bed at this moment seemed impossible for him. His cock straining against his pants as discomfort grew, urging him to address it promptly.

He treaded back to the couch, every step carrying an enduring strain to his crotch. Fuck, those noises were driving him wild.

He knows it's not right, yet he pulled out his erection anyway. He needed relief, blood rushing to the tip as it sprung out of his pants. His arousal was yearning for a momentary reprieve.

He groaned as he started fisting his cock, guttural groans coming from his chest as he chased his release. His eyes fluttered closed, Imagining you spread out for him, begging for whatever he could give you. Your pretty body writhing underneath him while you worked in sync to reach that peak. Nails scratching at his back with each forceful thrust of his hips. He tried to stay as silent as he could, listening to the melody of your sounds. He tried to savor your sounds, prolonging his orgasm to the best of his ability. He couldn't hold it any longer, somewhat embarrassed at how fast he was going to finish.

The familiar feeling of his climax began to reach him, his lower abdomen flexing harshly with each stroke.

"Fuck"

His sticky cum flowed over him fingers as it spilled out from his twitching tip.

This was wrong, but god did it feel so fucking right.

Throughout the night, Simon couldn't shake the image of your shocked and saddened expression from his thoughts. All he longed for was to have you back with him at home. Who the fuck were you with anyway?

As the minutes stretched into hours, Simon's chest tightened with an unsettling jealousy. The anticipation of your return became a weighty burden, and the quiet emptiness of the house echoed his longing. He had watched you leave, hope clinging to the belief that you would soon walk back through the door. However, as the night wore on and you failed to return, that hope transformed into a bitter ache. Each passing moment fueled the jealousy that churned within him, a mix of fear and insecurity. The empty house seemed to mock his unspoken yearning, amplifying the silence that enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

The air hung heavy with tension when Johnny left the house, the weight of your discovery lingering in the strained atmosphere. The revelation of the affair had cast a pall over the once-shared space, leaving behind a palpable sense of betrayal. The door closed with a hollow finality, echoing the rupture in trust that now defined the relationship. He laid there in your empty bed, the aftermath of your revelation settling like dust in the room, and the emptiness of the departing footsteps mirrored the void that now consumed the once-shared moments with Johnny. The silence that followed was deafening, amplifying your absence.

When you left he was still pent up with arousal, so him and Johnny went a couple rounds, but he soon had to leave to get enough rest before the sun rose. With both of you no longer present, he truly began to realize he was alone.

Jealousy gnawed at Simon as he grappled with the unsettling uncertainty of your whereabouts. Each passing moment fueled his imagination, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of who you might be staying with. The unanswered questions echoed in his mind, creating a symphony of doubt and insecurity. The image of someone else occupying the space meant for him sparked a surge of possessiveness, leaving him yearning for the reassurance that you were still his. The silent house became a canvas for his anxious thoughts, and the suspense of not knowing intensified the monster within him, clouding his emotions with a turbulent mix of suspicion and anger.

Just who the fuck did you think you were, leaving like that?

He felt his jaw clench, thinking of you with someone other than him.

Every thought of someone else near you ignited a primal instinct to claim and protect what he considered his own. The mere idea of sharing your presence with another set off a storm of dominance, intensifying his need to assert his presence in your life. It was as if an invisible tether bound him to you, and the thought of anyone encroaching upon that connection stirred a fierce determination to safeguard what he considered rightfully his.

Sleep eluded him, elusive as his thoughts were ensnared in a web of restlessness. The weight of emotions, a mix of envy, dominance, and yearning, kept him tossing and turning in the dim silence of his bedroom. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance to the rhythm of his unsettled mind, casting a surreal atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within. The bed, usually a sanctuary, became a battleground for his inner struggles. The clock's ticking echoed like a constant reminder of the sleep he desperately sought but remained just out of reach. The night stretched on, a canvas painted with the shades of his unquiet thoughts, as he wrestled with the myriad emotions that held him captive in the wake of the events that unfolded.

Awakening to the robust aroma of tea wafting into your nose, you stretched out your well-rested limbs before swinging your legs over the side of the captain's bed. The lingering remnants of the dream from the night before clouded your thoughts, creating a palpable tension in the air. As you pondered how to navigate the interaction with him, uncertainty hung like a veil. The simple act of rising from the bed felt like stepping onto uncharted territory, and the fragrant tea served as a reminder of the shared space that had witnessed the intimate contours of your dreams. The challenge ahead lay in reconciling the vivid images of the night with the reality of the morning, as you grappled with the aftermath of the subconscious journey that now lingered between you and the captain.

You approached the bedroom door, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The journey down the corridor felt like a deliberate exploration, each step carrying a subtle anticipation. As you entered the kitchen, a captivating sight awaited you – the captain, turned away, engrossed in some task involving the kettle. The play of muscles beneath his skin was a spectacle, every inch defined and visible, yet soft. His silhouette painted a picture of strength and concentration, a moment frozen in time that captured the essence of his physicality. The air in the kitchen seemed charged with an energy that transcended the simple act of making tea, as you silently observed, feeling both a sense of intimacy and a respectful distance in the presence of this private moment.

"Good morning, Sergeant. thought I'd get some tea ready for ya."

You listened intently, and there was a warmth in the captain's voice as he completed the tea-making ritual. Even though you couldn't see his face, the audible smile in his words painted a vivid picture. The sound carried a gentle resonance, echoing the pleasure he took in the simple act of preparing tea. It was a melody of contentment, and the timbre of his voice conveyed a subtle joy that surpassed the mundane task. As you stood there, the audible smile became a shared moment in the quiet kitchen, a connection forged through the familiar sounds of morning rituals and the understanding that lingered between you and the captain.

"Thank you, Captain. For all of this. I owe you one."

The dual impact of your words and the vivid recollection combined to color his complexion with a subtle embarrassment. It was as if the mere mention of his title held a key to unlock a realm of thoughts he hadn't anticipated sharing. The involuntary flush revealed a vulnerability, a momentary glimpse into a private mental landscape stirred by arousal that lingered beyond the confines of last night. In that fleeting blush, a complex interplay of emotions unfolded, creating a connection between now and what he had done last night that had left its mark on the captain's waking thoughts.

"You owe me nothin', dove. Hush up and drink your tea." He uttered, handing you a partially hot cup of the chamomile beverage.

"Anything planned for today?" You asked while softly blowing on your tea.

"PT, but It's going to be different today, so don't you worry about lieutenant."

His words had the exact opposite effect on you. You were most definitely worrying about Simon.

Taglist: @ttsbaby01 @waves-against-a-cliff @konigslittleliebling @imjustheretofightforlove @beebeechaos @mikimumiki @splaterparty0-0

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghost angst #ghost x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price smut #ghost smut #ghoap x reader #john price fluff

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strang3lov3 · 1 year

Text

Self-Indulgent Tendencies

dbf!joel x fem reader

Summary: while on your night walks, you decide to sneak into your dad’s best friend’s pool. When you’re finally caught you’re faced with two options: Joel can call the cops on you or teach you a lesson himself.

Warnings: pervy!Joel, slightly creepy joel, manipulative joel, kinda dark joel, slight dubcon but it’s not crazy, public nudity, semi public sex, rough sex, blowjobs, masturbation, attempted orgasm denial, reader calls joel daddy (couldn’t help myself), unprotected piv, voyeurism, oral f and m receiving, substantial age gap (reader is 20s and joel is 40s, honestly picture whatever age gap you want. I think the girthier the sexier LOL) I was feeling filthy sorry

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: this poisoned my mind and I had to write it. Please enjoy <3 I would like to dedicate this story to @toxicanonymity who inspires me to be myself and have fun when writing this absolute filth ❤️

@speckledemerald deserves some credit with creating this story. Thank you for brainstorming with me and proofreading and your words of encouragement love!!! 😘❤️😘❤️😘

Texas in July. You did not miss it one bit, yet here you were, walking in the smoldering heat wave, beads of sweat dripping down your body. It was the kind of heat that weighed heavily in the air and suffocated your lungs with each and every breath.

After graduation in May, you moved back home, settling on a cute little townhouse not far from where your parents lived.

As you walk, you wave hi to the Adlers, then to Joel, who’s mowing his lawn. Oh yeah, he’s in this neighborhood too.

Joel, your dad’s best friend since…long before you were around. Joel, with his dark curls, his patchy beard and thick mustache, his sparkly dark eyes, his syrupy-sweet smile. He looks sinfully handsome mowing his lawn in his denim cutoffs and white tank top, his sun kissed skin shimmering in sweat.

He smiles back with a wave, and you walk right past, continuing your walk. It’s late in the evening, the sun is beginning to disappear. This is the best time to get your exercise, you’ve decided. It’s when the air is coolest, but still, not quite cool enough.

You loop around the neighborhood a couple times more and before you know it, you’re back at Joel’s house. You see the waves of his pool out of the corner of your eye, the moonlight dancing on the dark water.

How refreshing it would be to swim right now, you think to yourself. Joel’s pool is big, so clean, and refreshing. You’ve spent many barbecues in his pool, long summer days filled with chicken fights, swimming contests, seeing how long you could hold your breath under the water.

Fuck it.

You tiptoe to his pool, climb up the steps of his deck and begin stripping articles of clothing. It’ll be just for a minute, you decide. Just a quick dip to cool off, then you’re gone, and your daddy’s best friend is none the wiser. You strip completely bare and dip a toe in the cool waters, then quietly slink into the pool.

The water is soothing against your hot skin, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses. You wade for a bit, then dip your head under the water, doing a little flip. Pure fucking bliss.

Joel is in his bedroom, he thought he heard his deck creak. He figured it was the raccoons again, Sarah was always feeding them cookies and chips that she shouldn’t have been. But then he hears a splash.

Joel peels his bedsheets off his body and takes a few steps towards the window, finding a young woman in his pool. Naked, her bare ass exposed to the air as she swims across the pool back to the deck. It’s only when she hoists herself up and steals a towel from the basket on the deck he recognizes her as you.

And dear lord, what a fucking sight you are. Your dripping skin illuminated by the pale moonlight, your nipples pebbled and perky from the cool water. You towel your body, then your hair, and then dress yourself. And as quickly as you got in the pool, you leave, hanging your towel over the ledge of the deck.

Joel bites back a groan and palms his cock. He tries his best to shake the images of you, his best friend’s daughter, from his mind. But he can’t. Instead, he strokes his cock furiously, your supple tits and plump ass tattooed on his eyes. Who the fuck do you think you are, swimming bare assed in his pool? Before he even realizes just how close he is, he spills onto himself, making a mess on his clothing.

The next week, you do it again. You walk past Joel’s house, Joel chokes on the mouthful of beer when you wave to him and Tommy.

Tommy smirks at Joel’s mishap. “She sure grew up, huh?”

Joel swallows thickly. “Yeah,” is all he can choke out. Tommy doesn’t know the half of it. He knows your skimpy workout shorts and sports bras, but he doesn’t know what’s underneath. Not how Joel does.

On your way home, you eye Joel’s pool. Empty and dark, waiting for you. You tiptoe through the grass for a second time, strip bare, and dip into the water. This time, you swim for a longer duration, feeling confident after pulling off last week’s stunt with ease.

What you don’t realize (other than the fact Joel watched you through his window last week and subsequently masturbated to his memories of your naked body) is that Joel is in his garage, waiting for you. He stands in the doorway, hidden by the shadows. He planned it this way when you walked past his house. This way, he thinks, he can get a closer look. Watch how your body moves, hear the noises you make.

When you dip under the water, Joel quickly sneaks to the deck and ruffles through your clothing, finding your panties. He grips them tightly, hides back in the garage, and watches you emerge from the water. This time, he jerks off to you with your worn panties clutched into his hand, held under his nose as he inhales your scent. When he comes, he feels a tinge of guilt, but pushes it deep in the back of his mind. He’s dead fucking wrong for this, but so are you, after all.

When you step out of the pool, you can’t find a towel. Joel smirks mischievously at your confusion when you realize your panties are missing too. Did you forget to wear them? Left with no choice, you put on your clothes over your wet skin, your dripping hair soaking your t-shirt. You slip on your sandals and quickly sprint around his house to make your way home.

Only, you run right into Joel, literally. His torso is firm and he grabs your shoulders with his big hands.

“Woah there, kiddo. Finishing up your walk?” he asks you.

“Y-yeah,” you stutter. “Just on my way home.”

Joel eyes you as he blocks you with his big imposing body on the sidewalk, still holding you tightly by the shoulders. You feel small, vulnerable. “Whatcha all wet for?”

You freeze, any words you can think of getting caught in your throat. Joel raises an eyebrow in suspicion, or entertainment, at the way you try to think up a lie. “Got caught in some sprinklers,” you mumble. Your eyes dart past him, but his pupils stay focused on yours. It makes your cheeks burn.

You’re not much better of a liar now than when you were a teenager, he notes. He loves watching you lie to his face when he knows your dirty little secret. He’s made himself come twice now to your dirty little secret, after all. It’s really quite amusing.

You stay frozen in place, Joel’s intense gaze making you uncomfortable. There’s something so off about his demeanor. There’s something unnerving about him, he seems too cool. Shouldn’t he be as startled as you are?

“Gotta get home. Goodnight, Joel,” you pull away from his grasp. You need to get out of this situation before he puts the pieces together, if he hasn’t already.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,”

A few days later, on your regular evening walk, you pass Joel’s house. This time, Joel’s alone on his porch and sipping a beer.

“Get your ass up here and have a drink with me!” he shouts at you, a playful tone in his voice. “Now that you’re legal.”

You blush at the memory he’s referencing. You were only a teenager, couldn’t have been older than sixteen or seventeen. But how rebellious you were.

You snuck into his garage, a cigarette between your lips, and stole a bottle of vodka from his freezer. As you turned to leave, you saw Joel in the doorway, his expression somewhere between upset and amused. He said nothing as he took the ice cold bottle of alcohol from your hands, his fingers gracing lightly over yours.

He motioned for you to sit in the dusty patio chairs by the fridge as he put the bottle of vodka back in his freezer. Then Joel pulled the cigarette from your lips and took a drag, letting the ash fall on the cold cement of the garage floor. “S’not good to smoke,” he exhaled, smoke rising out of his mouth as he sat in the chair closest to the fridge.

Once you sat down, he passed the cigarette back to you and you took a drag of your own. “I know,” you mumbled, unable to meet his face. You could handle the disappointed expressions of your parents, but Joel? Forget it.

“I won’t snitch to your parents if you quit f’me. Can you do that?”

You nodded shyly.

“Good girl,” he said. You shared the rest of the cigarette before Joel smudged it out on the floor with his boot. He pulled you up out of your seat, shoved his hand into your jacket pocket, and stole your pack of cigarettes. Then he sent you home.

That was the night your budding infatuation with Joel really took off. Of course, you were attracted to him before, but it was something about that night. The way he called you good girl, how he took your hand. How he shared your cigarette, the thought of tasting his lips without actually kissing him.

You never smoked another cigarette again.

“Beer?” he offers you.

You don’t really like beer, but you do like Joel. “Sure,”

He walks into his garage to grab you one, opens it and then hands it to you. “Settlin’ in okay?” he asks you as he pulls you in for a hug, perhaps squeezing you a bit too tight.

“I’m doing okay, yeah,” “Stayin’ out of trouble?” he teases you.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Joel. I’m staying out of trouble,”

Joel winks at you, pulling another swig of his beer. There’s something about him, he’s got that same smug look from the other night when you ran into him. Like he knows something you don’t. “Sure, kiddo,”

You smile shyly, unsure of how exactly to respond.

“How about this heat, hm? You keepin’ cool?”

“Oh, yeah,”

“S’good,” Joel smirks again. You can’t help but squint at him, unsure of what he’s getting at. He’s not talking about–he doesn’t know. Right?

Sarah interrupts then, calling for Joel to come in and watch American Idol with her. Joel bids you goodbye, you finish up the last of your beer and leave, starting for your walk once again.

When you cross Joel’s house on your way home, you battle yourself in your mind. Today is by far the hottest day of the summer, the heat never once breaking. You’re conflicted: on one hand, you’re dripping sweat and aching for the cool waters of Joel’s pool to soothe you, but on the other, you risk getting caught. It seems that Joel is onto you already, but he would have confronted you. Right?

You decide to go for a swim. Walking into Joel’s backyard like it’s your own, you strip and sink into the pool. You dip your head under the water, doing flips and twirling in the water. The starlight dances over your skin, you look like Aphrodite herself.

Joel just watches you, quietly. This time he’s not in the garage, not in his bedroom. He’s next to the deck, watching how your perky breasts break through the surface of the dark water. He’s sick of being teased by you. It’s his turn to fuck with you.

Joel discreetly grabs your pile of clothes and a nearby water gun. Ever so subtly, he fills the water gun with the pool water, and waits. It’s not long before you swim back to the deck and you realize your clothes are gone. You lean over the edge of the pool, checking to see. Did they fall under the deck? Where the fuck did they go? How are you supposed to get home?

You feel a squirt of water on your asscheek as you’re leaning over the edge. You whip around, not seeing anyone. This is getting fucking eerie, you search for your clothes frantically now.

Phwit phoo! You hear a whistle and whip your head back around, and there’s Joel. Right in front of you, holding a squirt gun. “Tsk. Thought you said you were stayin’ out of trouble,” he chides. He doesn’t look the slightest bit surprised or angry. He just looks like…he knows. Like he’s been watching you this whole time. Has he?

“Joel!” you gasp, quickly covering your breasts.

“You lookin’ for these, sweetheart?” Joel holds up your pile of clothes in his hand for you to see. Your mouth drops open. “Tresspassin’ and public nudity ain’t no joke, you know.” “Joel, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was–”

“All y’had to do was ask me if ya wanted to use my pool, honey. You know I woulda’ let you. This heat wave and all,” he stares at you, eyebrows raised, playing with the squirt gun in his hand. He squirts it a few times into the water before tossing it aside. “Certainly wouldn’t want you to get heatstroke.”

“I know, I just–”

“You just what?” Joel interrupts you, “I know what your problem is, honey. You still got that rebellious streak in ya. S’that why you’re wearin’ these slutty panties, hm? Skinny dippin’ in my pool every night?” he holds up the panties, lacy and cheeky. “C’mon now, you know better.”

You reach for the panties, your heart beating through your chest and your cheeks on fire. Joel pulls them out of your reach. “Ah ah ah, mine now. You’re in trouble now, sweetheart. Since you wanna act like a fuckin’ slut and whore yourself out for the whole neighborhood to see,” he tuts disapprovingly at you, “Where’s your self respect?”

You swallow thickly. You don’t know what to say, what to do. You’re caught red handed.

Joel climbs up the steps, each thud of his foot hitting the deck like thunder in your ears. “I’ve got half a mind to call the cops,” he mutters.

“No, Joel, don’t. Please, don’t,” you plead in desperation.

“I dunno, kiddo. This is pretty serious. Think it’s about time you face some real consequences,” his voice is dark and unwavering, you know he means business. “The way I see it, hon, you got two options,” he starts, sitting down at the pool. He dangles his legs next to you, sending ripples your way. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers and a thin gray t-shirt. “Cops can teach you a lesson or I can. What’ll it be?”

It’s no question. “You,” you say. “You, Joel. Please, don’t call the cops.”

Joel chuckles. “Smart girl. First good decision you’ve made in a long time, sweetheart. A long time,”

He takes off his shirt, his tan skin glowing under the sparkling stars and moonlight. Then he takes his cock out of his boxers, already hard and leaking precum. Your mouth drops open, knowing exactly the type of punishment you’re in for. “You know what I think?” he starts, exhaling deeply, “I think you’re bored.”

“What?”

“Y’need somethin’ to keep you busy, out of trouble,” he continues, “Let’s start with that filthy mouth of yours, hm?” Joel begins stroking his member, smearing precum with each pass of his hand.

Desire shakes your bones and you nod, understanding where this is headed.

“Always thought you’d be nicer with a cock down that throat of yours. Shut you right up so you can’t backtalk me. Now get your ass over here, girl,”

You swim over to him, situating yourself between his thighs.

“C’mon, open wide for me. Know you can,” he commands you, and you part your lips around the angry tip of his cock, so rosy and agitated. “Suck.”

You don’t waste a moment. You drag your tongue up and down his shaft, swirling a couple of times over his tip. You savor the salty tangy flavor of his skin, so soft and smooth under your tongue.

“Quit your teasin’,” Joel shoves your head down on his cock, hard. You gag and sputter onto him, pulling back to catch your breath. Your struggle only encourages him, he forces your head to stay down.

“You’re gonna take my cock all the way down your throat, baby. Just relax, open wide,”

Your jaw is already sore trying to accommodate his member. He’s thick and long, filling your mouth completely. You begin bobbing your head up and down, up and down. Massaging him with your tongue, tracing over his bulging veins.

“That’s it,” he praises you softly. “Doin’ so well f’me. Always knew you’d suck me real good.

You cup his balls in your hand and continue sucking, making a mess of his cock. Spit dribbling down your chin and into the thick tuft of curls at the base of his dick.

Your jaw is aching, but you don’t dare stop.

“Look at you,” he coos, his strong hand caressing the side of your face before settling at your jaw. “Good lord.”

He bucks into your mouth, pushing you to your limits. He’s letting out little grunts and groans now and then, and then you feel his cock twitch in your mouth.

Joel pulls you off his cock, a trail of spit connecting his member to your lips. Then he grabs you by your biceps into his lap. “Gonna let me fuck some sense into you, hm?”

Your heart jumps at his request, but you’re not ready. “No, Joel, need you to touch me first,” you beg. After the way his thick cock made your jaw sore, you know your pussy needs warming up to accommodate his massive size.

Joel chuckles darkly, one hand firmly gripping your ass and the other holding his cock. He lines himself up to your entrance, notching the tip at your hole, not yet ready to take him. “This is your punishment. Ain’t s’posed to feel good, honey,” he says, his voice cool and collected.

“No, Joel,” you protest, wiggling your hips away from him. Your heart is pounding, your stomach drops.

“Maybe,” Joel grunts, both hands now holding your asscheeks in a vice grip. “If you’re good t’me and keep out of trouble, I’ll love you a little sweeter next time,”

He doesn’t give you a moment to process his words before he unceremoniously pulls you down on his cock. The stretch and burn is unimaginable, your eyes blur with tears and you nearly scream, but Joel covers your mouth to muffle your shock.

“You be quiet,” he warns you with a stern voice. You’re on top, but he’s the one in control, pushing and pulling your hips up and down on his cock. Using you as his own fuck toy. You bite into his hand, doing your best to hold back your screams.

“Joel,” you cry into his palm, tears falling down your cheeks and over his knuckles. The pain is bordering on unbearable.

“Relax,” he commands you, his voice somewhat soothing. “Just relax f’me, hon. Quit squeezin’, open up,”

He’s right. You just need to relax your muscles, let yourself take him. As he fucks into you, you focus on the small amount of pleasure you can feel deep inside. It grows larger with every thrust, and soon enough, the painful stretch is replaced by pleasure.

You sigh in contentment, savoring every delicious thrust. Joel fucks into you with such fervor, hitting that sweet spot inside you with each and every one of his movements. “Oh, Joel,” you moan. Your arms are wrapped around him, your head falling to his neck. You bite into his neck and inhale his musky scent, woody and slightly sweaty. That, coupled with the smell of the chlorine fills your nostrils, a wonderful combination.

“Jesus, girl,” he whispers, his hot breath making your skin prickle. “Lettin’ me fuck you like this for the whole neighborhood to see. You like this, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you gasp.

Joel stops, pulling you back from him. “Daddy, huh? S’that how we’re doin’ things?”

You blush, unsure of what to say. You didn’t mean to say that.

Joel fills the silence. “You’re worse off than I thought,” he says like it’s a fact. You can’t quite place his tone, or how he feels. “You’re a lost cause, baby.” he exaggerates his sigh, disappointed.

You look to the side, trying to think of something, anything to respond to him with.

“S’alright, though. I like you like this,” he begins fucking you mercilessly again. “All mine.”

“Fuck, Joel,” you scramble on top of him, grasping at his toned body to keep from falling into the water.

“Mhm. Who am I?” he grunts through gritted teeth. He drags a hand up your torso and pinches at your pebbled nipple.

“Daddy,” you whine. He bounces you up and down his cock, fingers painting bruises into your soft skin.

“S’right,” he mumbles.

Joel fucks you like you’ve never been fucked before, deep and hard and intentional. His movements are precise, calculated. You’re clay in his hands, he’s molding you into what he wants. With each movement, you become his entirely.

You’re breathless as he thrusts into you. His feet splash in the water, you feel drops on your back every so often. His calloused and rough hands holding you tightly. His warm torso pressed to yours, one of his hands groping at your soft breasts.

He feels you squirm, he feels your pussy clench around his cock. Your breaths are frantic and uneven. “You’re close, aren’t ya?”

“Yeah,” you whine. He’s reading your body like a fucking book.

“That’s just too bad,” he tuts. Your stomach fills with dread, knowing what his next words likely will be.

“Joel, please,” you cry.

“Mm mm,” he mumbles, his eyes fixed on yours. His eyes are dark, full of lust. Desire. Desire to control you, make you his and his alone.

“Let me come. Please, daddy,” you grind your hips into his, feeling the friction of his hair on your clit.

“I don’t think you deserve that, my love,” his voice is sickeningly sweet, full of fake sympathy for your predicament.

“No, m’so close, please. N-fuck, not gonna last,”

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart,” he warns you, never once changing his pace as he fucks you. “You’ll be in deeper shit than ya are now, I don’t think you need that,”

“Please,” you cry, feeling the beginning of your orgasm bloom deep in the pit of your stomach. “Please, please, please,”

You can’t help it. You can’t stave off your release any longer. With whimpers and moans, you come all over his cock, your slick dripping from your cunt and painting his lap. It sends bolts of electricity through your veins and you shudder uncontrollably, mouth wide open and your eyes screwed shut.

Your pussy quivers, squeezing and massaging Joel’s cock is all he needed. Making a strangled sort of groan, he spills into you, hot ropes of his come shooting inside you and painting your walls. He holds you tight enough to break bone as he fucks you through your shared releases.

With the stars in the sky now behind your eyes, your chest heaving up and down in gasping breaths, Joel lifts you off of his cock. Your skin is damp with sweat and you dip back into the water. And to think you thought you were hot after your late night walks.

Joel watches your slick and his own come drip from your spent cunt onto the deck, then into the pool. “Look at this godforsaken mess you made,” he points to his lap, glistening with your juices. “Naughty fuckin’ girl. You just can’t help yourself.”

Godforsaken mess is right. You look at him with wide eyes, speechless. He stares right back at you with his own intense and piercing gaze, that same look when he caught you stealing his vodka.

How far away that night seems now. It hits you, what you just did with your father’s best friend. Joel, who practically raised you, who taught you to drive a stick and held your graduation party at his house. All of those barbecues, those hot summer nights spent on his deck, the same deck you desecrated just moments ago.

You just can’t help yourself.

“Shoot, you poor thing,” he sighs, tucking himself back into his boxers. He doesn’t bother putting his shirt back on, but he does grab your panties and clutches them in his fist. “You’re fucked now.”

Joel’s legs splash in the water as he stands up and goes back inside his house, then tosses you a clean towel from inside.

You really are fucked now.

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