#nothing too heavy though promise

[kamitv]

Getting a call while Suguru’s balls deep inside you sounds so interesting, lowkey.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Your fiancé would coo into your ear, cock dipping in and out of your sopping cunt languidly as his hot breath hit the crown of your ear.

It would all be so intimate. The way Geto has you beneath him, holding your shaky legs open for himself as his heavy balls smacked against you every time he thrusted his fat cock into you. His hips were moving slow but his dick was splitting you open.

"Sugu," You'd gasp, nails scratching at his toned back as you panted out a heavy breath of air, "Fuck-, mmh..."

"Can't get enough of this pussy, mmgh. Listen t'her talk t'me," He whispers to you, the messy slick of your cunt wetting up his shaft as he drew his hips back hitting both of your ears, "Y’like that, baby? Like bein’ stuffed like this, hm?” Geto questions.

Though, his words weren’t directed to you.

He often did that during sex— talked to your cunt, referring to it as she and baby just like how he talks to you. And it gets even worse whenever he’s giving you head.

Currently though, as Geto talks you, and your pussy, through his steady strokes, you moan his name up until your phone begins to ring.

The sound of your loud ass ring tone makes your lover groan, leaning up away from you just to catch sight of who the hell was calling you. To his surprise, none other than his best friend’s contact name was beaming across your phone screen.

“Hahh,” Geto cracks a half smile, “The fuck is Satoru callin’ you for?” He asks, sounding annoyed despite the amusement etched onto his features.

The curve of his cock sinks deeper into you as he reaches for your cell phone and you scratch at his chest, too fucked out to render what the hell he was talking about. All you wanted was his body pressed up against yours again.

“S-Suguu, shit-, ignore it, please.” You huff out demandingly, earning nothing more than a mere glance from your fiancé as he peers down at you from the corner of his eye.

Swiping your phone up, “Why’s he calling?”

“I don’t know,” You pout, extending a hand to his neck and trying to pull him back down to you. Your attempt almost works as Geto is tugged a bit closer to you, his hips still and his eyes back on your phone buzzing in his palm.

Cocking his head to the side, he smirks, “Find out then,” Suguru says to you.

You’re confused for only a second before an explanation is given through him answering the call and pressing it to your ear. Your eyes go wide as you realize he wants you to talk to Satoru while he’s balls deep inside you.

Gulping, “Sugu-“

“Hello?” You get cut off by the connection of the phone call and the sound of Gojo’s voice in your ear.

Your fiancé smiles down at you and whispers, “Go on, talk to him, baby. Promise I won’t move,” He hums all too sweetly.

It was definitely suspicious coming from him. You’ve been down the road more times than you can count— Geto promising not to fuck you while you talk to someone but ultimately doing so anyway.

With pleading eyes, you nod, hoping he’ll keep his promise this time around. “Hi Satoru,” You say into the phone, watching your fiancé mock you through his facial expressions.

“Heyyy, how are youuu?” Gojo purrs over the phone, his tone letting you know he definitely called to ask you for something.

You take a deep breath, “M’fine, can I ask why you called?”

“Straight to the point I see,” Gojo says with that smug voice of his.

Rolling your eyes, you release a sigh, "Yeah, I guess so. I'm kinda busy right now so uh, make it quick." Your tone was a lot more put together than you expected of yourself, especially with Geto's thick inches stuffed into the hilt of your cunt.

And for a while he doesn't move, he just sit there, marinating in the warmth of your cunt and listening in on your conversation.

“Well, then," Gojo starts, his voice suddenly enthusiastic, "Remember when I came over last week?"

Geto starts to lean up again and you send him skeptical eyes, to which he flashes another innocent smile at you. Then you sigh, "Yes, why?"

"Did I uh, leave my jacket there?" The male over the phone asks.

You blink, "You could've texted me this question y'know," The end of your sentence comes off all too breathy as a thumb suddenly swats over your clit, your free hand moving down to Geto's finger and trying to swat him away.

He just smirks at you though and presses the pad of his thumb into you, watching the way your back arches a bit and your lips part.

"Yes, I could've texted you this questions buuuut, you always ignore me," Gojo argues.

You bite your lip for a moment as Geto draws small circles around your clit-- you knew he was going to do this and yet you still weren't prepared for it. "I do not," You breathe out.

On the other side of the phone, Gojo tilts his head and his borws furrow, "You alright over there? Y'sound out of breath."

"M'fine, Satoru. And n-no, I haven't seen your jacket," You stammer as Geto starts drawing his hips back his eyes locked down on your cunt and how lewdly it's spread open for his cock, smirking before he spits down on it.

"Right... Well can you ask Suguru then?" Gojo continues, "I really need it for-"

"Can I just call you back?" You say all in one breath, trying your best to keep your composure as Geto eases himself back into you, fucking you so very slowly that it's both tortuous and stimulating at the same time.

The full stretch of Geto's thick girth way driving you insane, the way he'd ease back and then push forward, thumbing your clit simultaneously as his salvia smeared and mixed with the mess you've already made of him from earlier.

"Please?" You suddenly whine, not sure if it was really directed toward Gojo or Geto as you said it.

That's when Gojo pauses, his hears practically perking up at the tone of your voice, "Hey... No need to beg me to get off the phone, y'know," He hums, his voice suddenly... lower? "I would've hung up without the please but I dunno, you sound busier than I expected."

Your brows furrow at his sudden resistance toward ending the call, "Meaning?" You question, eyes focused on your fiance's face which was twisted up and he groaned quietly due to the sudden squeeze of your cunt.

There's a slight scoff over the phone, "Oh nothing, just uh-, well, am I interrupting something?"

Your lashes bat in disbelief of Gojo and Geto's losing his mind at how much your pussy's throbbing around his cock. Was that his doing or his best friend's doing? What exactly was Satoru saying to you over the phone and why were you squirming so much?

Geto tears his eyes away from where the two of you are connected and he looks at your face, spotting that you're basically just as confused as he is. Tipping his head to the side, he locks eyes with you and decides that that's the perfect time to thrust every inch of himself back into you.

The way your jaw drops, a moan pouring out so clearly and obscenely-- it makes Geto smile, nearly forgetting that Gojo probably heard that...

Probably would be an understatement too because Gojo's on his end of the call with his face flushed and his eyes widened, "Did you just moan?" He questions.

And as he does so, Geto decides not to hold back anymore, working up that brutal pace of his thrust by thrust as you slap a hand over your mouth and moan into your palm.

Barely even able to utter a response to Gojo, "N-No," You gasp, "I just-, mmh. Fuck, can I please call you back?"

Gojo blinks. Then he swallows, thickly, "Where's Suguru?"

Your mouth opens to respond but the phone is suddenly taken from you. Geto places one hand to your lower abdomen and pushes down slightly on the imprint in your skin where his cock is, his hips smacking into you roughly as you body jerked and you spasm.

Then you hear Geto speaking and realize he's taken the phone, "Busy fuckin' her to tears, call you back later 'Toru," He hums out simply.

Gojo coughs and then he laughs, "Hey wait," He stalls without second thought.

Your fiance tilts his head into the phone and his hips grow a bit harsher with you, the pressure of his hand on your lower abdomen making his swollen cock hit deeper and deeper. Then there was that mean curve of his, beating into where you were sensitive and making you whimper.

"Hm?" Geto hums in response, sounding almost annoyed.

"Y'Mind if I stay on the phone and listen?"

(pt. 2)

[s0dium]

Sex Pollen

Geto x F!Reader

A/n: This was pulled out from the depths of my fantasies

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: Oh no! You and Geto get hit by an aphrodisiac curse technique on a mission!! What should you do now?

Warning: Breeding, masturbation, begging, mating press, rough sex, desperate sex, marathon sex, doggy, squirting

You think there's something wrong with you. Something feels off, you feel off, rather, you feel hot.

You bolt upright in your bed, flinging the sheets away as if a second more underneath them would burn you. No, something was definitely off. Your mind buzzed, and it couldn't be from the adrenaline of the mission, that was hours ago, it was midnight now.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of your room and you bit inside of your cheek. It wasn't just physical exhaustion that draped over your limbs—it was something else, something deeper and more consuming. The air around you felt thicker, every breath you took seemed laced with a heavy, intoxicating warmth. You press a hand to your forehead, trying to quell the rising temperature of your skin, but it provides little relief.

A creeping heat suffuses your body and an unmistakable pulse emanates from your core.

Where you.... Turned on?

A sickly-warm-funny feeling bubbles in your stomach and you're becoming aware of how your skin is starting to stick to your tank top and that the cloth between your legs feels....wet?

Hesitantly, you snake a hand under your waistband and underwear, releasing a small gasp when your skin makes contact with your arousal. You're soaked.

Why is this happening, why now? Your mind races through the events of the previous day. It was mainly just you and Geto on a mission, one like any other—find the curse, exorcise, clean up the mess. Could it be the technique you were hit with?

Could Geto be feeling this too?

Your heart jumps at the thought but you try to shake it off. You know you should get up, wake up Shoko, wake up Geto even, but you can't seem to will your legs to move. Your mind was is just too occupied with something else, the promise of something sweeter, something that is making the funny feeling in your stomach spread.

Without much of a thought, you press an index finger on your throbbing clit, garnering a sharp sigh from you. Just from that simple touch pleasure ripples through your body, making your toes curl. You do the movement again except this time you start drawing light circles on the sensitive nub. You can feel yourself squeeze around nothing from your own ministrations, bliss clouding your hazy mind.

It wasn't enough though. You needed more.

You dart your tongue across your lips and try to focus on the pleasure, on getting some relief. You try to dip one of your fingers inside your hole while continuing the ministrations on your clit with your other hand, but it proves too difficult, your fingers are too small.

Tears blotted your eyes from frustration, letting out a soft whine from the relentless heat that continued to rack your body. Oh how you wish you had someone else to help you, oh how you wish Geto was here.

Your core throbs at the thought. Yes, that was it, he is what you need. You resume your ministrations this time focusing on the euphoric thought of Geto suguru. He would be so good to you wouldn't he be? Oh you bet he'd fill you up so well too, fuck you just right, get rid of this painful arousal, and fill your mind with only pleasure. He would probably talk you through it too, let you pull and tug on his long black hair oh you can practically feel his hands on you right now, so big and warm.

You don't even realize that you are loudly moaning Geto's name at this point, too busy trying to grapple with the searing heat coursing through your veins. You feel like your body is surrounded by an invisible flame, fuck it feels like you are going to die. The room around you blurs into insignificance, as your thoughts fixate solely on your Geto Suguru, his absence a gaping void that echoes through your heightened senses. You feel a desperate craving, a pull so strong it borders on physical pain, rendering you breathless and sobbing for his touch, his presence.

"Suguru, please...." you gasp between sobs, your voice breaking with each word. The tears stream down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you clutch your sheets.

As if on cue, the door swings open and you think that there must be a god out there listening to you because there Suguru stands, backlit by the hallway light, his broad silhouette framed in the doorway.

Before you can even get a word in he is already next to you sitting on your bed and cupping your face with his large warm hands.

Deep violet eyes examine your face as his thumb brushes away the tears on your cheek.

"I-" You choke, a wave of emotions crashing down on your mind stifling the words that desperately wanted to escape your mouth.

"Shhhh, I know baby I know," he coos kissing your forehead and tracing your jaw with his thumb. "I feel it to, but I'm gonna take care of it ok? Don't worry about a thing m'gonna take such good care of you I promise."

He gently tilts your chin up, meeting your doe-eyed gaze with eyes that seems to devour you. Slowly, he lowers his lips to yours, encapsulating your trembling mouth in a deep, comforting kiss that steadys the chaotic beat of your heart. You sigh into the kiss and let his entangle with yours.

As the kiss deepens, he shifts slightly, his lips traveling from yours down to your neck. A soft gasp escapes you as he plants soft kisses along your skin, occasionally nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. You are so lost in the feeling of his lips that you don't even notice his hand on your inner thigh until his finger grazes your lips.

You jump at the sensation but Suguru places a light reassuring kiss on your lips

"jesus, please just, fuck, gotta get you ready just a little bit"

You shake your head quickly and place your hand on Suguru's crotch, the caress of his growing bulge making him groan.

"Please sugu, please just fuck me I can take it."

You don't have to tell him twice.

In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.

"Been waiting to do this for say long," he mummurs as he pulls down his sweatpants and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white beed of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.

You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words

"I know baby I know Don't worry, I got you.”

You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.

“Ngh so goo-"

You dont get to finish the thought because he pulls out and rams back into you with such a fever everything goes blank for a second.

His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.

Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room and the sloshing sound of both of your arousals makes your eyes roll back.

You don't know what's happening, you couldn't even tell someone your own name if they asked. Your grip on the sheets was starting to get loose, tears flowing down to your cheeks, mouth hanging open with drool pooling on the sheets as you were already fucked out of your mind.

"Come on baby just keep your legs on my shoulders. Can you do that for me?" His breath is hot against your ear. "F-fuck please" he says through a groan. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind you would think that he was actually begging. And you were right. Suguru isn't a whimpering man but here he is, voice cracking from the vice grip your cunt  

You are too dumb to reply, only spurting outcries and whines about how good he was fucking you. He snapped his hips so fast that everything seemed like a dream, the bed was shaking immensely with the headboard banging on the wall and you were losing your mind from the friction of his dick against your walls.

"Wanna fuck you every day,"  he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal brutal. "fuck fuck fuck," he swears, as he brings a hand to the back of your head and presses your lips onto his. Your so dazed you practically drool into the kiss, letting him entangle his tongue with yours until spit smeared on either side of your lips. He doesn’t slow the movement for a second as he kisses you, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.

Suddenly, it hits you. Like an ignition of fire your brain goes white and you feel yourself ascend to euphoria.

“You gonna cum baby?" he coos into your hear, pressing light kisses on the hollow of your neck. "fuck, cum for me baby, please, cum on me."  His hand flew between your bodies to rapidly rub your clit back and forth, hurtling you towards your orgasm. Your pussy tightens so hard around his cock that he nearly has to stop his thrusts. Your mouth grows lax as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. 

“That’s it,” He fucks you through your orgasm, pouring every ounce of his strength into chasing his own high. His thrusts became sloppy, hips stuttering before he stilled his hips flushed against yours, burying himself in your creamy cunny.

“Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”

His grip tightened significantly, a loud moan of your name slipping from his lips as his own orgasm washed over him, coming so hard he sees white. But he's not done.

Before you could recover, Suguru rolls you onto your back, in doggy, and slips into you. After the first thrust he has to hold still for a second, knowing that if he kept moving, if he gave himself up to the exquisite tightness, the heat, he would burst inside you again. But the moment of rest only lasts for a second. He resumes his brutal pace, pumping himself in and out of you. 

You are wetter then ever down there, there is no longer friction only the mind-numbing pleasure of his tip hitting your cervix again and again. 

There is no warning when he cums inside you again, you only know when you feel his cum drip down your thigh.

"Feel so good, you feel so good baby."

You're in heaven right now. Your mind has gone to a different space detached from this world. Every time Suguru pushes into you, his tip of his dick rubbed perfectly against the gummy spot in you that made your whole body shake.

“Fuckkkk… I’ll fill you up, make you a mommy, you’d like that wouldn’t you… shit.”

All you can do is dumbly nod as you felt the crescendo of your euphoria building and building. It was so hot, your skin was radiating heat and before you could say anything you were tumbling toward the end faster then you could put a stop to it.

“S’feels weird~” you babble, too fucked dumb to properly pronunciate words. 

“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?” He coos, grabbing either side of your hips harder to fuck himself into you from your behind.

“Like m’gonna pee I don’t-hah-” something was pressing down on your stomach and it was overtaking your body; too fast to put a stop to it. You started to shake, abdomen clenching and mouth going into the lock jaw, tongue rolling out as you squirted clear juices everywhere.

“Oh f- good girl" He says through a groan, not stopping for a second as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him.

[sceletaflores]

slippin' and slidin' all over you!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, sweating, mutual masturbation, sweat licking (i don't know???), not-so-dry humping, p in v, JUST THE TIP RAHHH, creampie, fingering (fem!recieving), oral sex (fem!receiving), come swapping, come eating, literally over four thousand words of pure nasty smut, this is gross lowkey, idk i'm h*rny, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: very much not the winner or even an option of the poll i posted last week but...shhh don't hate me. it’s october and over 80 every single day, what the fuck is that? only good thing that came from this heat is thoughts of nasty sweaty sex with logan. once again shoutout to my wonderful husband @ebodebo for reading this over for me (i successfully changed her vendetta against sucking up some man sweat...which was the real point of this fic tbh) go give her fics some love if you're a slut for ghost! kisses!

logan forgot to fix the ac...

It's too hot out to be alive. 36°C and sunny.

One of the hottest days in recent memory for Alberta, and you're really feeling it.

"Remind me," you say slowly, the first words spoken in almost ten minutes. "How many times did I ask you to fix the air conditioner?"

"Don't start," Logan says from his spot across the room. His head is tipped back to rest on the couch cushion, eyes slipped shut.

You ignore him, lazily rolling your head to the side to look at him through squinted eyes, your brows furrowed in thought. "Was it ten? Or maybe thirteen?"

Logan huffs a breath, slow and heavy, but he doesn't move--doesn't even open his eyes. “I said don’t start,” he mutters again, though there’s the faintest edge of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Don't worry baby," you say, voice pitched lower in a terrible impersonation of Logan. "I'll get to it, promise. Won’t get too hot for another couple months."

Logan finally cracks an eye open, just enough to give you a sideways glance, his mouth twitching with amusement. "You done?"

You hum noncommittally, the sound lingering in the air like the lazy summer breeze doing nothing to cool the temperature outside. Your gaze slips down the side of his face to trace the jut of his jaw, then lower to the sweaty column of his neck. 

Both you and Logan lost most of your clothes earlier in the day, too hot to bother wearing anything but underwear. You trudged around the house like zombies until you finally gave up on trying to be productive, you both ended up in the living room. 

All the windows are cracked open, trying in vain to let in any cool air. You claimed the armchair closest to the fan, refusing to be anywhere near Logan and the massive heat wave he constantly gives off.

Logan’s on the couch, stripped down to the thinnest pair of sleep shorts you’ve ever seen. His chest is bare, glistening with a thin sheen of sweat that mats the dark hair dusted along his pecs to his skin. 

You can’t help the way your eyes follow the drops of moisture that slide slowly down the contours of his abs. A low heat starting to swirl through your gut when it disappears into his happy trail.

It's funny. When you basically peeled yourself off your mattress this morning, sex was the absolute last thing on your mind.

Now, as your eyes glide over the strong expanse of Logan's body on full display, you're having second thoughts.

Maybe it just comes with the heat. That sort of slow, syrupy feeling that slides along your overheated skin to pulse pleasantly between your thighs.

A bead of sweat slides down the length of your spine slowly, falling until it soaks into the damp waistband of your panties. You try to not notice how Logan is halfway across the room, not touching you.

You fail.

“It’s just a shame, though,” you start, fingers idly toying with the hem of your tank top. “If it was cooler, I could come over there.”

You slide a leg up, letting it rest against the wooden rest, newly exposed skin gleaming under the sunlight filtering in. 

The move isn't lost on Logan. You see his jaw clench slightly, the tiniest shift in his posture.

"Something you wanted?" Logan asks, his voice going low and teasing. "Looks like you've been gettin' yourself all worked up over there."

“Just thinking,” you reply, shifting slightly on the sticky leather of the chair.

Logan’s fingers twitch at his sides, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. His eyes slide the rest of the way open, his gaze heavy and lingering as it ventures down to where your thin shirt sticks to your skin, outlining every curve.

“Oh yeah?” he prompts, his voice a little rougher now. “Thinkin’ about what, baby?”

“You,” you say easily, fingers slipping down to your thigh. You bring your other leg up, perching it against the opposite armrest. Your thighs spread wide enough that you know Logan has a full view of the wet spot growing along the gusset of your panties.

The hitch in Logan’s breath has you stifling a smug smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch the way his chest starts rising faster.

"That's real sweet, sugar," he drawls, an unimpressed look on his face as he drags his eyes back up to your own. "But if you're tryin' to get me over there, you're gonna have to do better than that." His voice slides through the air heavy and warm like molasses.

You bite back a grin, enjoying the slow game that's unfolding between the two of you. 

"Maybe I don’t want you to come over here," you let your fingers trail a little lower, just to the edge of your panties, teasing. “Maybe I like you right where you are.”

Logan’s brow raises, his thighs tensing before he spreads them just a touch wider. The fabric of his boxers goes taut over the strong muscle, riding up to expose even more hairy skin to your greedy eyes.

"You're playin' with fire, kid," he warns.

The tent in his shorts is obvious now, the hard length of his cock pressing against the fabric where it lays across his thigh. Your other hand twitches by your side at just the sight, your pussy throbbing with the sudden need to be filled.

"Am I?" you murmur, your fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties, just enough to make sure he knows exactly where this is headed. ”It’s not like you’re going to do anything about it, you’re too busy pouting."

With a deliberate slowness, you slide your fingers lower, brushing against your clit with just enough pressure to let out a soft gasp at the contact. You arch your back slightly, relishing in the way the air feels against your skin, hot and sticky.

You want him to see how badly you need him—how his heat is the only thing that could truly satisfy the insatiable ache building between your legs.

Logan's nostrils flare, jaw tightening and eyes darkening at the sight of you teasing yourself. His restraint is slipping, and you can practically feel the tension building in the room, thick and stifling like the oppressive summer heat. 

But he still doesn’t move, doesn’t rush over like you expect him to. Instead, he shifts his hips slightly, spreading his legs wider and letting his hand fall on his thigh. 

You can’t help the way your breath quickens at the sight, the way his fingers drift dangerously close to his own growing bulge, teasing you just as much as you’re teasing him. 

You tilt your head to the side, gazing at him through your lashes. “You're really just gonna leave me hanging?” you goad, fingers circling lazily around your sensitive clit. “Come on stud, whip it out.”

Logan chuckles low, a sound that sends shivers through you. "Is that what you want, baby?" he asks, voice thick and taunting, a smirk curling on his lips. “You want me to whip it out for you?”

“Yeah,” you murmur breathlessly, biting your lip as you maintain eye contact, your breath starting to come in short bursts. “I need to see you, Logan. Need to see how hard you are for me.”

“Need to, huh,” he muses slowly, fingers finally grazing over the hard length of his cock. “What’s in it for me?”

“How about this?” You slip your hand out from your ruined panties, fingers glistening with your own wetness as you hook your thumbs on either side and drag them down your legs.

You let the soaked cotton fall to the floor, leaving you completely exposed to him.

Logan’s pupils dilate, an inky black completely swallowing the warm hazel. He licks his lips slowly, the tip of his tongue running along his teeth like he wants to sink them into you. His cock twitches visibly beneath his shorts, the growing tension in the air between you thick enough to choke on.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, his voice low and gravelly, more of a growl than a word.

You smile, shifting in the chair to give him an even better view, your legs spreading wider. "Yeah?" you purr, running your fingers over your slick inner thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your own skin. “You like what you see?”

Logan swallows hard, his hand finally slipping beneath the waistband of his shorts, palming his cock as he watches you. “You know I do,” he says, voice rougher than before. 

You let your hand trail back down to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as you hold his gaze. “Then show me, Logan,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea now. "I wanna see you."

Logan lets out a low, rumbling groan, his fingers making quick work of shoving his shorts down enough to free his cock. It springs free to slap lewdly against his stomach and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips at the sight.

He strokes himself slowly to start, his eyes locked on you, watching your every reaction, feeding off the way your chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths.

"Like this?" he asks, his tone taunting as he strokes himself from base to tip, his thumb swiping over the head with a low hiss. “That what you wanted?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, straining and in his hand. The sight of his thumb brushing over the tip of his cock sends a hot, electric pulse through your body, your hand between your legs moving in time with his slow strokes.

"Yeah," you whisper, voice trembling with need. "Just like that."

You slip your hand lower, sliding two fingers inside yourself with a low moan. Logan groans like he’s the one being touched, his hand speeds up, eyes glued to where your fingers disappear in your slick heat.

His cock leaks pre-come over his knuckles each time his fist passes over the dripping head, the wet sound of it mixing with the low hum of the fan and your own breathy sighs.

"You look so fuckin' good like this honey," Logan groans, his voice rough, strained. "All spread out, playing with that pretty pussy for me."

You whimper at his words, your body aching for more than just your own touch. You need him, need the feel of his rough hands on your skin, his mouth, his cock—anything.

Your fingers move faster, slipping deeper inside with each pump, but it’s still not enough. The stretch is nothing compared to taking Logan, to the feeling of him carving a place for his thick cock inside your pussy, hitting that spot inside you that your fingers can’t quite reach.

Your hips buck up towards your hand, your back arching off the chair as your free hand clutches the armrest tightly.

Logan’s pace quickens, his fist pumping his cock with a new urgency, heavy balls bouncing with every rough tug.

“God, look at you, such a needy fuckin’ thing” he growls, chest heaving as his gaze flicks between your flushed face and the glistening mess you’re making of yourself like he can’t decide where to look. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

"Please," you whine, desperation creeping into your voice. Too keyed up to draw this out any longer. “I need you inside me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore.”

Logan groans, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest. His hand falters slightly on his cock, squeezing hard around the base as your words push him dangerously close to the edge. His jaw clenches, eyes raking over you, and with a growl, he stands. 

The last threads of his restraint snapping.

 He crosses the room in two long strides, towering over you where you sit. His cock swollen and hard, sways between his legs with every step, glistening with pre-come that drips to the floor. His eyes, hooded and burning, drink you in as he reaches down, yanking your hand away from your slick heat.

“Thought you said it was too hot to move,” you tease breathlessly, unable to quit egging him on even when your legs start to tremble with need, spreading wider to welcome him.

Logan ignores you, tugging your hand to his lips. Your breath catches in your chest, a weak moan escaping you as he takes your soaked fingers in his mouth. His tongue swirling along your skin to taste you, his eyes never leaving yours as he does.

“Changed my mind,” he growls, strong hands rough and possessive as they drop your wrist and haul you out of the chair so he can spin around, collapsing into it with you in his lap. The wood gives a warning creak beneath you but neither of you care.

Not when his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding as he slides his tongue past the seam of your lips. The heat radiating off his body is suffocating, but you welcome it—craving the weight of him on you.

You melt against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against yours, every inch of him alive and pulsating with need. Logan’s hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging in just enough to send a rush coursing through you.

It’s intoxicating, the way he devours you, his hands exploring every inch of your back, grasping and pulling you impossibly closer. 

The hard jut of his cock presses against your thigh, a thick plane of heat that makes your pussy throb with need. You shift your hips, grinding down on him in messy circles.

“You feel that?” he growls, lips brushing against your ear. “That’s all for you, darlin’.”

“Need you,” you whimper, grinding down against him faster, desperate for the friction that sends pleasure rippling through you. “Please, Logan, I need you inside me now.”

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending sparks all up your spine.

He dips his head, capturing your lips again, while his hands roam hungrily down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs to urge your legs open wider. “You wanna tease me, you’re gonna have to get off just like this.”

Logan angles his hips so that his cock slips between your drenched folds the next time you roll your own down.

The hot, slick glide sends electric shocks of pleasure racing through you, your body responding instinctively to his touch. You gasp against his lips, fingers tangling in his hair as you push down, desperate for more.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growls, his voice dripping with lust as he watches your movements with hungry eyes. “Just for me, huh? She’s droolin’ just for me.”

You nod breathlessly, chasing the friction, craving the feel of him so close. You lift your hips and rock back down again, the blunt head of his cock brushing against your swollen clit, and you feel your body pulse in response. 

“More,” you plead, leaning in to nibble at his lower lip. “I need it.”

Logan pulls away, shaking his head with a wicked grin. “Come on, tough shot,” he says, giving your ass a quick smack and kneading the tender flesh in his hand roughly. “You’re gonna come like this, you can do it baby.”

You whine, dropping your chin to your chest. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging crescent moons into the strong muscle. Your chest slips slickly against his, the front of your tank almost entirely soaked with sweat.

Yours or his, it doesn't matter. The white cotton turned transparent enough that your breasts are on full display, nipples hard and visible.

You watch a single bead of sweat make its way down the length of his throat. It trickles down and down and down until it dips between the pronounced muscles of his chest.

You duck your head, dragging your tongue up the valley of his pecs. A deep moan bursts from your lips, pussy drooling more slick over Logan’s cock at the coarse feel of his thick hair on your tongue, at the heady taste of his sweat filling your senses.

Logan groans, hands tightening their hold on your waist. The dull ache his strength leaves behind is enough to let you know that two hand shaped bruises will be blooming over your skin by tomorrow morning. 

“Come on, girly,” he encourages, nipping at the sweaty column of your throat, the sharp points of his teeth scraping along the sensitive skin deliciously. “Fuck me, give it to me good.”

Your hips speed up, his hard cock sliding through the slick folds of your cunt faster. The tip bumps against your clit deliciously with every move, smearing pre-come along the way to add even more to the mess between your legs.

“Gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he groans, breath puffing warm and hot agasint the slick skin of your lips. “Pump you so full of my come you’ll be leakin’ for a goddamn week.”

He shifts underneath you, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance just enough for it to push inside on the next grind of your hips.

The barely there fullness has you coming with a sharp cry, nails roughly dragging down Logan’s back hard enough to leave red welts that heal as you go.

The pain mixing with the pleasure of finally getting to feel the warm, wet suction of your pussy has Logan coming with a rough shout of your name. He throws his head back, hands tightening their grip on your hips enough to have your bones grinding together as he pumps you full of his come. 

“Logan…” you mewl, your pussy fluttering over the tip of his cock, greedy little clenches like you're trying to suck him the rest of the way in. Drunk on the way his release paints your insides, how you can feel each thick spray coating your walls to claim you in the rawest way.

Logan pulls back just far enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and smoldering as he watches you squirm in his lap.

"You’re not tapping out on me already, are you?" he teases, his voice rough and gravelly. "I thought you were tougher than that."

A weak, breathy laugh escapes you, but it’s cut short when he applies just a little more pressure, making your thighs quiver. "Not tapping out," you manage between shallow breaths, your head falling back against the chair. "But you’re—fuck—you’re insatiable."

Logan smirks, leaning in to nip at the sensitive skin of your throat, his teeth scraping just enough to send shivers coursing through you.

"When it comes to you, baby?" he murmurs against your skin, the heat of his breath fanning over your pulse point. "Fuckin’ always."

A lazily smile takes over your lips as you tighten your core and push, the rest of Logan’s come leaking out over his fingers. Logan groans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder to try and ground himself.

His cock throbs where it sways heavily between his thighs, still hard and ready to go even after he just came. His hand slips down your body, thick fingers running through the creamy mess of come and slick to messily push it back inside you.

“Fuckin’ shit, honey,” he groans lowly, pressing his thumb to your clit. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

Before you can respond, he stands again, gently placing your trembling form back into the chair and dropping to his knees in front of you.

Your breath hitches, legs widening despite the way your pussy shakes with overstimulation, like you can’t help but spread your legs for Logan anytime he wants.

Logan smirks up at you from between your legs, his lips already ghosting over the inside of your thigh. "Look at you," he growls, voice low and filled with lust. "Still so needy."

The slick heat of his tongue runs along your folds, lapping at the mess he just made of you. You let out a sharp gasp, thighs trembling as your fingers weave into his hair, tugging him closer.

The sensation is overwhelming—the rough, demanding pace of his tongue as it swirls around your clit, teasing you, while his hands grip your thighs with bruising force. Keeping you exactly where he wants you, keeping you spread open for his tongue.

Your body arches off the chair with a loud cry, every nerve alight with raw pleasure as he feasts on you, his growls vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck! Logan," you moan breathlessly, head falling back as you try to keep up with the sensations he's pulling from you.

The heat that was pooling low in your belly reignites, stoked by the way his tongue flicks faster against your clit, each stroke sending you higher.

Logan doesn’t let up, his tongue delving deeper, drinking in every moan, every shaky gasp as he drives you closer to the edge. He moans into your pussy, his own arousal clear in the way his hips buck into the air, seeking any kind of friction.

You tug on his hair harder, desperate for more, for release. "Logan, please," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper, thick with need.

"Atta’ girl," he rasps, his voice thick with desire as he watches your face contort with pleasure. "So fuckin’ pretty like this. You gonna give me another one, baby? Gonna come for me again?"

Every lick, every rough squeeze to your thighs, every teasing stroke sends you spiraling closer to that edge you’re dying to reach again. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your soaked skin and driving you wild.

“Logan, I—” You gasp, fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, closer, closer. “I’m so close—”

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, nose and jaw glistening in your juices.

"Give it to me," he growls, the rough rasp of his voice sending a shiver through your overheated body. "I wanna feel you come on my tongue."

It’s all the encouragement you need. With a strangled cry, your body tenses, thighs quaking as the orgasm crashes over you.

Logan keeps his mouth on you, tongue working you through every pulse, drawing it out until you’re trembling and gasping, your body boneless in the chair.

When you finally come down, panting and spent, Logan pulls away. With one last kiss pressed over your clit, he makes his way up your body, not dropping eye contact as he settles over you.

His hand comes up to your face, thumbs meanly hooking into either side of your cheeks to gently force your mouth open. You part your lips willingly, the heat still radiating between you, a mix of lingering pleasure.

Logan leans in, and the intoxicating scent of sweat and sex surrounds you as he spits what he collected from between your legs back into your own mouth. 

Your cheeks burn with shame, a broken moan ringing through the space between you. Your glassy eyes stare into Logan’s, his own gaze so intense and all consuming you fight the urge to squirm.

"Swallow," he commands, unwavering. 

You hesitate for just a moment, caught off guard by the pure audacity, but the way his eyes darken with hunger makes your resolve crumble. With a breathless whimper, you obey, tasting the remnants of your own pleasure mingling with his, the act both humiliating and intensely arousing.

Logan watches you closely, his gaze never straying as you swallow, a dirty smirk creeping onto his lips. “That's my girl,” he praises, his tone thick with satisfaction.

As the taste lingers on your tongue, you can feel the weight of Logan’s stare like a physical touch.

“Think you can handle another round?” he teases, his voice low and sultry. “I don’t plan on letting you off that easy, kid. Not with all that mouthing off earlier.”

You catch your breath, shaking your head in exasperation. “You’re relentless,” you whisper, a hint of laughter in your voice, though your body betrays you, already craving more.

“Only for you, baby” he replies, brushing the strands of hair plastered to your sweaty forehead behind your ear. “Only for you.”

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mini nat's note: i started my period today chickens...that explains it...

[lovelyghst]

just imagine ghost getting his Jacob's ladder piercing while he's dating you and after it's healed yall have sex for the first time and it's just like sensory overload

i know absolutely nothing about piercings, but this idea is simply too good to pass up. my brain is melting.

hmmm, thinking about ghost who, despite not being able to properly get off himself, is still so attentive to his sweet girl throughout the whole healing process; offering you his mouth and fingers whenever he notices your focus beginning to drift off and shift elsewhere, having you rub yourself up on his jean-clad thigh when you can’t seem to shake the burst of energy.

because while you never outright asked him for anything of the kind, he just knew.

and even if you were the one so insistent on following the piercer’s advice—taking each and every precaution possible in avoiding the risks that simon shrugged off as ‘not gonna happen.’—you still felt bad. though, he couldn’t resist your stern pouting for long, turning weak the moment you cocked your head and promised him a sweet treat when he’s all healed up.

so, of course, ‘whatever you say, doll.’

anything to put your pretty mind at ease. he is a soldier, after all. he can wait, even if it kills him. it got pretty damn close to it, too.

which is what makes the first time back so fucking good. that reunion, and the return of that glimmering look you get in your eyes every other time he presses his pink lips to your collar and gently hikes you up the mattress after a long time away.

and truthfully, he was done in the moment you tapped him on his shoulder and told him to guess what day it was.

“shit, baby—” he grits out with a heavy breath, eyes trained on your own as he watches you reverently lick up the underside of his cock. your fingers tighten around the base when his abs pull taut, tongue gliding over the cool metal.

taking your time in feeling each and every barbell leading to the tip, making him twitch in your hand at the hot and wet drag over his sensitive skin. a heavy breath seeps from his lungs, his jaw clenching as he fights to hold off. jesus, you’re too good to him.

a sweet fucking treat, indeed.

you giggle before taking the head of him between your swollen, spit-stained lips, reveling in the quick hiss he sucks in through his teeth as you whine at the familiar taste of his pre leaking onto your tongue. your other hand slips up his thigh while you squeeze your own together, your freshly done-up nails leaving little, pink crescent shapes in his thick skin.

“fuck— not gonna last ‘f you keep that up,” he warns, a struggle in and of itself, and it’s an utter miracle he doesn’t collapse to the floor when you only hollow your cheeks and suck in response. he hardly manages to stifle an embarrassingly whorish moan at that.

god, you look so pretty down there, on your knees for him. so fucking debauched, and so, so perfect.

the way your thumb toys with the piercings as you have your own fun, and how you preen in his hold like a sweet cat when he slips a hand to the back of your neck. he’s going to miss it when he forces himself to pull you away, frowning at the pout you give him as he’s lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to your bed.

“’m sorry, sweetheart… just too fuckin’ pretty for yer old man anymore— didn’t want it t’go to waste.”

he kisses your temple, mumbling his apologies in your hair. you hardly even register your bare back making contact with your sheets, so wrapped up in his hold, before he’s kissing his way down your neck.

“wanna fill yer pretty cunt,” he murmurs, and it’s nearly incoherent as his lips press against your racing pulse point. “make ‘er cum ‘round my cock… know y’missed it too, sweet girl. a proper fuck…”

he’s talking more to himself than anything, and a small gasp from you follows soon after when his arm is snaked between your bodies and his fingertips make contact with your swollen, little clit. won’t even stretch you out with his fingers; he’s had his fill of that over the course of the last month. let him feel how much you missed his cock.

“poor thing’s soaked f’me, baby.” he groans as he adjusts on his forearm and regains his bearings, dick twitching against your thigh with every noise squeaked out from your throat. “cunt’s gonna take me just right, lovie… so fuckin’ well…”

he rambles a lot when he’s needy, you’ve come to learn.

you whine when his hand leaves you to take his cock in a fist, your nails digging into his chest and shoulder when he presses the head to your messy pussy. just the tip in and you’re already seeing stars, the shared moan between the two of you raw and pornographic.

he’s gritting out his swears before you try to shush his dirty mouth with a kiss, and he accepts it greedily, almost too eagerly.

your body reacts to his, simultaneously craving more and trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation all at once. your brain is fuzzy by the time he’s nearly bottoming out inside you, ears deaf to the unabashed sounds spilling from your lips as the feeling of his fresh piercings dragging against your every sweet spot burns itself into your memory.

and before you can catch your breath, a thumb is being pressed up against your sensitive bud once again, your legs constricting around him involuntarily as you jolt with a cry. heat prickles at your skin, his teeth at your jaw making your spine tingle.

he’s telling you to cum, begging you to make a mess of his cock.

his hand picks up its pace, hips grinding against yours sloppier than ever as he pleads right up against your temple for you to use him, just finish him off, fucking cum for him.

you squeeze around his cock like a vice and pull him straight under with you, arms locked tight around his neck as your pretty cunt utterly wrecks him. making him throb and twitch, fucking himself dumb through his high and wringing him dry of everything he’s kept pent up for you. at least for now, anyway.

his and your panting rings out in the room as he sits back on his knees, his cock still hard as he gently pulls out of you. watching his pearly cum bead from your slit, your chest gradually slowing down within the time he takes to drool over the sight of you.

it’s not long before simon has you laying on your tummy with your head in the soft sheets, a pillow slipped underneath your hips to prop you up. not making you do an ounce of work as he uses your warm, pliant cunt as his sweet cum dump for hours on end.

fucking you gently, lovingly, all while trying his best to keep his weight off your back. he kisses behind your ear, cooing praises and choked grunts that make your tummy flutter with butterflies. you can only giggle into the pillow nestled in your arms as he makes up for all the lost time.

filling you with load after load, the number becoming lost on your fuzzy mind after a certain amount, until your belly is achingly full and his cock is numb from overstimulation. only to coax you onto your back, easing your limp legs apart to watch his cum leak from your pretty hole. pressing a flat palm to your lower tummy, sighing in time with your strangled noises as your sensitive pussy drips more of his spend. leaning forward and licking it all up like some starved mutt; groaning at the taste, arms tightening around your hips as he eats his mess out of his pretty girl.

[sincerelyneo]

diet pepsi | n.jm

“losing all my innocence in the back seat”

📀now playing: diet pepsi by addison rae

❯ summary: Jeno has one rule — his little sister is not allowed at street races. Jaemin knows this, and still, he can’t help but feel a thrill when he spots you sneaking out to watch him race. That is, until he sees you with another guy, and suddenly, he’s all in favor of Jeno’s rule. And he’s pretty sure that rule also means he should intervene and give you a ride home.

❯ pairings: jaemin x virgin fem!reader

❯ genre: brother’s best friend, smut, racing!au

❯ words: 5.6k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, arguing, jealously, pet names, car sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering, virginity loss, slight corruption kink, bit of angst, ‘daddy’ mentioned once but not in a kink way?, jaemin is lowkey a dramatic asshole in the first half, mention of marking, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just a jealous brother’s best friend trope because it eats every time

Jaemin’s blood runs cold when he sees you—wait, what are you even doing here?

He’s never been so tense in the driver’s seat before. He’s usually all calm and controlled, razor-focused on the track, with only one thing on his mind: winning. And he’s pretty damn good at it. But today, he can’t seem to focus. Not with you—Jeno’s little sister—standing right there on the sidelines, sticking out like a beacon in a crowd of rowdy onlookers.

So out of place, timid and awkward. Normally, he’d find it cute if he wasn’t so pissed that you’re even here. You don’t belong among his reckless racer friends, the ones with wandering eyes; and the girls with short skirts, heavy perfume, and sharp eyeliner.

He’s never been this distracted at the starting line before, never found anything particularly interesting to gaze at through his freshly cleaned windshield. But there you are. 

Ripped blue jeans clinging to every curve that he’s spent years thinking about—too many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining how his fingers would mold and print into the soft flesh of your skin. And those cherry-red lips—they make pride swell in his chest, a small thrill from knowing he’s the only racer here with a red car. It’s probably just a coincidence, but Jaemin lets the possessive part of his mind take over, because he wants nothing more than to see that red smeared around your cheeks as he kisses you—wants it to stain him like a claim.

God, what’s he even thinking?

You’re his best friend’s little sister. Off-limits.

Speaking of which, why are you here? Jeno’s not racing tonight, and he’d kill you if he found out. Actually, Jeno would kill him, even though Jaemin had no idea you’d even show up. Jeno hated you being at the races on a good day, let alone when he wasn’t here to keep an eye on things.

And maybe that’s why, for the first time, Jaemin’s gaze drifts to his side mirror as he speeds off. Because Jeno’s not here to watch over you—so he has to. Yeah, that’s it. It’s for Jeno’s sake. Definitely not because he’s worried about you. And definitely not because he likes the way your cherry-red lips part in a cheer—a cheer he likes to imagine is all for him.

Who’s he kidding? Jaemin loves knowing you’re here, watching him race. Honestly, it’s the biggest rush he’s ever felt—the purest shot of adrenaline—and he’s never pushed this hard on the track. But right now, he only wants to win for you.

And he does, slamming on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt the second he crosses the finish line. A few friends clap him on the back as he gets out of his car, congratulating him, but he doesn’t care about them. He only wants you—to hear you say he did great, to see that proud look in your eyes. He wants you to beg him not to yell at you for sneaking in tonight… or worse, promise he won’t tell Jeno.

Except, Jaemin’s not so sure he can negotiate on the “no yelling” part of that deal. Not when he spots you in the crowd, looking up at Jisung. Jisung, who’s got your attention on him instead of his win. Jisung, who’s making you laugh—and Jaemin knows he’s not that funny. Jisung, who’s handing you a can of Diet Pepsi—and you’re just taking it, smiling at him with those red lips, lips that don’t belong to him. 

Jaemin knows Jisung doesn’t have a bad bone in his body—Christ, the guy wouldn’t hurt a fly, and he’s one of his racer friends. Still, he doesn’t like the way you lean in when you laugh or how you’re looking up at him with pretty eyelashes fluttering. It makes something stir in him, something sharp and possessive. Without thinking, he storms over, snatching the damn can from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.

You gasp, the sound almost too soft, "Woah, Jaem–"

"What are you doing here, Y/N?

You stumble back, heart skipping in your chest. He’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you whole. Gaze locked with yours, primal and urgent, scanning you with a heat that makes your breath hitch, throat going suddenly dry. You came here to see him—no one else. But the way his eyes are on you now...you don’t know whether telling him that would be a good idea. 

You swallow hard, feeling small beneath the weight of his stare. “I—uh, I—I’m just… here to watch,” you mumble. "I didn’t think it’d be a big deal..."

Jaemin doesn’t respond right away, his eyes narrowing as they flick over you, then over to Jisung, then back to you. "Alone?" he finally asks. "You just showed up here by yourself?"

“Well yeah–I didn’t think anyone would mind..."

"Jeno’s gonna fucking kill you when he hears about this," he mutters exhaling sharply, the tension in his jaw is visible as he crosses his arms. "You know he doesn’t like you being here.” His eyes flicker to Jisung for a moment before they shift back to you, a little colder. "And I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to know you’re accepting drinks from other racers, huh?”

Your brow furrows, a tinge of annoyance creeping in. "It’s just a can of Diet Pepsi, it’s not—"

Jaemin cuts you off. "It doesn’t matter what it is," he snaps. "What matters is that you’re here, without telling anyone where you were going. Without Jeno knowing." He shakes his head in disbelief. 

You scoff. "I’m an adult, Jaemin. Jeno’s not my keeper, and neither are you–"

Jaemin’s jaw tightens, and something flickers in his eyes—something dark. But just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone. "That’s not the point, Y/N," he growls, his voice lowering. "The point is you’re here, at a street race, by yourself. You think that’s smart? You think that’s safe?" He takes a step closer.  "What if something happened to you?" 

"I’m fine, Jaemin. I can take care of myself, okay?" Your voice cracks, frustration spilling out, but the sound doesn’t make Jaemin soften like it usually would.

He steps even closer, towering over you, his presence dominating, and you can feel his breath on your face, hot and quick. “This—this shit—" he gestures around to the crowd, the cars, the racers that surround you both, "this is not safe for you. You shouldn’t be here."

Your hands curl into fists at your sides, jaw set as you refuse to back down. "Why? You and Jeno come here every other weekend?” What’s the big deal?" 

"The big deal, Y/N, is that you're a pretty girl, surrounded by a bunch of horny assholes who'd love nothing more than to corrupt a sweet little thing like you."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your mouth goes dry as his words hit you like a punch. You blink, trying to process, but the anger in his eyes is enough to make your pulse quicken. Jaemin must realize what he’s said because there's a brief moment of hesitation. He clears his throat, trying to regain control.

"And you never told anyone," he tries to add, his voice a little less steady now, "And you're letting random guys buy you drinks—"

"I already told you. It was just a Diet Pepsi, Jaemin. You’re blowing this way out of proportion!" You cut him off. 

You don’t even know what you’re arguing about anymore— and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t either—it’s like he’s mad for the sake of being mad, the two of you going around in circles.

And frankly, you're tired of it. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You’ve always had a thing for Jaemin, and now was supposed to be your chance—your shot to make him see you as more than just Jeno’s little sister. You knew he’d be distracted with the race, but you thought if you showed up, maybe he’d finally notice you, really see you. But instead, he’s making it perfectly clear that you’ll never be anything more than that girl he feels the need to protect.

“Stop treating me like a child, Jaemin,” you sigh. “I’m not some fragile little girl who needs you to babysit her." 

You turn on your heel, ready to walk away from him, but before you can take more than a few steps, Jaemin’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No. We’re not done talking."

He steps forward again, grip on your limbs tight but not painful, and before you can even process what’s happening, he’s pulling you toward the exit, the sound of your shoes hitting the pavement is far too loud in the heavy silence that’s settled. 

"Jaemin, wait!" You tug against him, stumbling slightly, trying to free your wrist from his grasp. "I’m not going anywhere with you. I told you, I don’t need you babysitting me—"

"I’m not asking." His voice is low and final. "You’re going home, and you’re going with me."

"Let go of me!" You hiss, still trying to yank free, but he just tightens his grip, pulling you with him as if you’re a ragdoll.

Jaemin finally stops, turning to face you, his eyes sharp with frustration. He growls at your protesting, stepping into your personal space. "I’m taking you home, Y/N. Don’t argue with me."

You stare up at him, chest heaving with anger and something else—something you don’t want to admit to yourself. "You’re insufferable," you mutter, but it’s weak. 

You know you’re defeated. There’s no point in fighting him anymore. His presence is suffocating, overwhelming, and every fibre of your body knows he’s not going to let this go until he’s got you back home. You have no choice but to comply really. And you groan whilst slipping into the passenger seat of his car, imagining the story he’s going to muster up for your brother. 

Jaemin gets into the driver’s seat, his body tense and irritated, and you almost feel bad that he can’t celebrate his win—almost. He places the can of Diet Pepsi in the cup holder, the soft clink of the can echoing through the car. Then, without breaking his focus, his gaze flicks to you, his voice low and commanding.

“Seatbelt.”

You huff, rolling your eyes as you slide it on. “Yes, daddy.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, Jaemin’s jaw tightens, the muscle flexing under his skin. His eyes darken for a split second, a dangerous glint flashing, something that makes your pulse stutter for just a moment. His fingers curl around the steering wheel, gripping it a little tighter than necessary as he tries to compose himself.

He clears his throat, shifting slightly in his seat, nostrils flaring. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”

You sink into your seat with a sigh. The silence in the car hangs as he drives, thick with awkwardness and annoyance. Your throat still feels dry from the argument, and before you can even think about it, you reach for the can. The cold metal soothes your fingertips. But the second your lips brush against the rim, you can feel Jaemin’s eyes on you—hot, intense, and focused.

You can feel him watch your every move, and as you pull the drink away from your lips, his eyes narrow in on the red stain your lipstick left on the silver rim. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, jaw tightening with it, his gaze flickering between your lips and the can in your hand. Without warning, he snatches it from your fingers, one hand still on the wheel, eyes focused and full.

Then, Jaemin presses his own lips against the spot where yours just were, right over the mark you left. Sipping the drink slowly — savouring it.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask, voice a little breathless, startled.

Jaemin’s eyes widen, and for a split second, his grip tightens on the can before he abruptly pulls it away from his mouth, tossing it into the cup holder without a second glance. His brows furrow as he tries to make sense of his own actions, as if he’s suddenly aware of how ridiculous he must look. His mind is reeling—over a simple lipstick mark on the rim of a can. Something so innocent, yet it’s driving him crazy.

He clears his throat, trying to regain an ounce of composure, but his voice cracks slightly. "I was, uh..." He hesitates, biting back a sharp breath, his eyes flickering to the road before snapping back to you. "Just making sure it wasn’t spiked…?"

It sounds weak, even to his own ears, and he knows you’re not buying it. The way your lips part tells him everything. You narrow your eyes at him, a little too sharp for comfort. 

“Spiked?” You glance at the cup holder, where the can now sits innocently. “How would you even know from the taste, Jaemin? Not to mention Jisung gave me this, that boy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Jaemin knows that. Still, he curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair as the frustration builds in his chest. His entire excuse is a mess, just like the thoughts spinning in his head.

"Look, let’s call it precautionary, okay?" His voice is clipped and there’s a tightness to it. "Don’t make it a big deal."

You lean back in the seat, a small bitter laugh escaping you. “Me making things a big deal? Oh, the irony.”

He doesn’t respond or bite back or try for the final word and it makes the silence thicker. Jaemin’s grip on the wheel is so tight his knuckles are white, and honestly, you don’t know how long you can keep doing this.

“You're impossible, you know that?" The words slip out before you can stop them, and your chest tightens as soon as they do. "I didn't come here for you to babysit me or make me feel like I need your protection. I came here because I—" You stop yourself. 

Jaemin's head snaps to you, "Because you what?" 

For a second, you can’t speak. The words are right there, but they feel too big, too much to let out. You’re caught between the urge to spill it all or keeping it hidden, scared to change the dynamic. But you’ve been pretending for too long, playing by the rules, and now, you want to stop hiding.

“I came here because I wanted you to see me,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “Not as Jeno’s little sister. Not as some kid. I wanted you to see me… as me.”

Jaemin doesn’t react, not at first – well, he does, but it’s subtle. His hands go completely white around the wheel, his jaw clenched so tight you can almost hear it. Without saying a word, he pops the indicator on and pulls over, the tyres screeching slightly as he brings the car to a sudden stop.

You freeze, and a small wave of panic bubbles up inside your chest. Did you say the wrong thing? Did you make it weird? He’s your brother’s best friend, and now you’ve crossed that weird line that’s bound to make everything awkward. Jeno’s gonna kill you.

You swallow hard, waiting for him to snap, to tell you how messed up this whole thing is.

But he kisses you. 

His hand on your cheek, without warning, pulling you into him, and consuming your lips with a force that steals the air from your lungs. It’s not gentle like you expected him to be. He’s typically always gentle with you — unless he’s mad, which right now, he is. This kiss is desperate. Hungry. And you like it because it’s the kind of kiss that makes your body forget how to breathe. The kind of kiss that tells you he doesn’t see you like a kid – like Jneo’s little sister.

“You drive me fucking insane, you know that?” Jaemin growls, nudging your noses together. His hands find your waist, to grip it. “You walk around in those jeans clinging to your ass, with your cheeks flushed, and that fucking lipstick the same shade as my car.”

You giggle softly against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You noticed?”

“Of course I fucking noticed,” he groans.

Jaemin’s lips trail down your jawline, each kiss slow, and teasing, and needy. The desperation in his movements is evident like he’s trying to savour every inch of your skin. The feeling is foreign to you—each soft press of his lips sends a rush of heat through your body. The simple touches make you gasp, drawing a low, satisfied groan from him as he feels the reaction in your body.

His breath catches, lips brushing softly along the sensitive curve of your neck as he pulls you closer. His hands tighten around your waist, and the pleading in his voice intensifies, but there’s no mistaking the hunger in it. He’s holding back, trying to keep his composure.

“Tell me this is a bad idea, Y/N,” he whispers, his lips grazing your skin with kisses. “Tell me you don’t want this.”

Your breath is shallow and you can’t help the way your body reacts to him. The way your hands find their way into his hair, fingers threading through it as you desperately tug on it, unsure of what else to do. 

“Please, angel, you have to say no,” he murmurs into your neck, his voice low and desperate. 

“Don’t want to,” you whimper, shaking your head again. “Want you, Jaem. Always wanted you. Only you.”

"Fuck..." he groans, his lips trailing away from your skin to look at you.

And what a pretty sight you are. Eyes glazed with lust, pupils blown wide, dilated with something raw and needy. So innocent, so forgiving, so eager – so fucking his. It’s enough to make him painfully hard, though he was already straining. Hearing you say you've always wanted him – and only him – had already sent a rush of heat straight to his cock.

Jaemin can’t help himself. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek again, his thumb teasing the softness of your bottom lip. You gasp, and his pupils darken, fixating on the way your mouth parts, the red colour staining his thumb. It’s everything he’s ever dreamed of—a perfect fantasy. 

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, gorgeous.”

He’s still hesitating, and you can feel it — you fucking hate it. Something takes over you, and without thinking, you take his thumb into your mouth, deep, sucking hard. Jaemin practically growls, his lips parting as a hiss escapes him from the sight. 

A switch flips, and in one smooth, deliberate motion, he yanks his thumb from your mouth, kills the engine, and climbs into the backseat. His eyes are sharp as they focus on you, which tells you to follow suit. He doesn’t care that on paper this is a ‘bad idea’. His cock is telling him it’s the best one he’s ever had.

It’s clear the moment you climb into the backseat, the way his body shifts into something animalistic. You try to settle beside him, but Jaemin doesn’t let that happen. He grips the hem of your shirt, yanking you down and onto his lap. The heat from his body radiates through the thin fabric of your clothes, his chest pressing hard against yours as his hands slide possessively around your waist.

His hands roam down your back and you can feel the hard press of him against your ass. It makes your pulse spike and your sweet red lips fall open for him, making him smirk with pride. His lips trail down to your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he murmurs your name, low and rough.

It’s all-consuming. Hot and desperate. Panting and breathless. Bodies moving in sync. The car heats up from your bodies softly grinding against each other. His hands are everywhere. 

“Angel,” he growls, his voice low with restraint, “if you keep grinding on me like that, I won’t be able to stop.”

You bite your lip, keeping your rhythm steady, your hips pressing into his. “Good.”

Jaemin catches a hand around your jaw pulling you away from his lips. “I’m serious, Y/N. Are you sure you want this?”

You nod, your gaze heavy with need.

He shakes his head, “I need words, gorgeous.”

“I want this.”

Such a simple phrase shatters his restraint, unravelling him completely. With a growl, he tosses you onto the back seat, lips trailing hotly down your body until he’s between your legs. His fingertips graze the waistband of your jeans, and he leans in, voice a low whisper.

“Can I?”

You nod, but he shakes his head, his eyes dark with hunger. “Say it.”

“Yes...” You breathe, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s all he needs.

The jeans slide down your hips and ass, past your thighs, until they’re bunched around your ankles. Jaemin’s eyes flicker down, landing on your panties—darkened with dampness.

"So wet from just a little grinding?" He raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So fucking cute."

A rush of heat floods your chest. You’ve never done this before. And suddenly, it’s all too much, too fast. His words, your own desperate need, the car, the argument... everything crashes together. Without thinking, you press your legs closed, embarrassed by your body's reaction.

Jaemin's brows furrow as he watches you closely. "You okay?"

Your cheeks burn with a blush, stuttering as you struggle to find your voice. "I-I-uh," you falter, hoping he’ll say it, ask you the question. But he doesn’t. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, waiting for you to say it.

"I’ve never done this before."

Jaemin’s eyes flicker with something dark before he hums lowly. “You still want this?”

You nod, not trusting your voice.

“Words, Y/N.”

“God—yes.”

A satisfied smirk curves on his lips. “Good,” he murmurs. “Your body’s a fucking work of art I’ve been dying to see, and I never want you to feel embarrassed about showing it to me—and only me, yeah?”

This time, you don’t nod. You meet his gaze, voice steady as you tell him, “Yes. Only you.”

He smiles, hands resting on your knees as he gently eases them apart, his gaze fixed on you, completely mesmerized. If someone had told him this was how he’d be celebrating his win tonight, he’d have laughed in disbelief.

But now, his knuckles brush over the front of your underwear, a feather-light touch that sends a spark through you. Your hips react on their own, bucking slightly as his fingertips tease your sensitive nerves through the thin damp fabric.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

He drags his fingers to your waistband, sneaking underneath to run a soft finger up your slit, drawing a gasp from your lips. He takes that as permission to slip the pair down your legs, meeting the same fate as your jeans somewhere in his car. 

Jaemin keeps his eyes dead set on you as his fingers work to find your clit. The moment he does, he starts working slow, taunting patterns against it, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The sensation is leg-numbing, sending waves of pleasure through you—so much better than when you do it yourself. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he demands, “I wanna know how I’m making you feel. Tell me.”

Your mind is spinning, words slipping through your grasp, and all you can manage is a choked, incoherent moan. It’s not enough for him. Dissatisfied, he sinks his middle finger into your pussy at your silence. You jolt at the intrusion, the feeling intense and foreign, but his eyes stay locked on you, waiting.

“Tell me,” he groans, relishing in the feeling of how tight you grip around his finger.

“F-feels good,” you manage to stammer.

“Yeah?” he taunts, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly picks up the pace. “Want more?”

“Yes–” you nod eagerly. He wastes no time, slipping his ring finger inside to join the first, matching the rhythm, savouring the warmth encapsulating around him, and you unravel beneath him.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, breaths shallow and quick, completely undone from the tortuous pace of his fingers. Jaemin’s expression softens as he takes you in, a quiet, satisfied coo slipping from his lips.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, “So sweet… so vulnerable just for me.”

A low chuckle escapes him as he feels your walls threatening to tense, wanting to flutter around his fingers, and it sends another wave of pride through him. He shifts his eyes down, and without hesitation, takes your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue in slow, devastating circles.

If he’s going to make you cum for the first time, it’ll be on his fingers and his mouth—he’ll make sure of it.

“S-so good, Jaem—” you gasp, voice trembling as his mouth and fingers work in perfect sync, pushing you closer to the edge.

He hums against you, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through your body. “Yeah?” he murmurs, lips still pressed to your skin. “Gonna let go for me, huh? Let me feel it.”

His words, his touch—it’s all too much, and you can feel every nerve on fire as he coaxes you over the edge until you’re cumming from the steady rhythm of his fingers and the relentless, teasing laps of his tongue. You're a shuddering mess beneath him from the orgasm he’s given you. 

He fucking loves it, looking in complete awe.

As you start to come down, muffled whines still slip from your lips, riding out the aftershocks of your release.

“What is it?” he prods, his voice smooth but persistent, but all you can manage is a frustrated sigh, annoyed with his stupid teasing tone. “Angel..I don’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”

"All I want is—" You gasp when he lightly brushes your sensitive clit again,"—your cock."

A smug smirk tugs at his lips. His hand slides to rest possessively on your hip as he moves to hover above you, his gaze locking with yours.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, your lashes fluttering with need, and he takes that as permission to rid himself of his pants, his hand wrapping firmly around the base of his cock. He positions himself carefully, just at the edge of your pussy. 

It’s not how you’d pictured your first time—definitely not the romantic, cute scenario you’d always fantasized about. But one thing was certain: Jaemin was here, and that’s all that really mattered. Though, you hadn’t expected him to be this… big.

He picks up on the hesitation in your eyes, sensing the tension coiling tight in your chest.

With deliberate slowness, he slides his length teasingly between your drenched folds, making your breath catch as your nerves tense.

“I’ll take it slow,” he pulls down to murmur against your lips. 

You nod, your lip caught between your teeth, biting down hard enough to taste the metallic tang as he presses his tip against your cunt. His other hand grips your hip, his fingers digging in as he applies pressure, holding you in place. He stays perched above you, eyes fixed on your face. 

"Keep looking at me," he says, watching the way your face squirms. "Please."

His begging has you fighting to keep your eyes from fluttering shut, staying locked on him as you watch the way his pink lips part, the way they twitch, holding back a moan when he inches forward just enough to feel his tip slip past the threshold.

He pushes forward in a slow, savouring motion, and when he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. Your brows furrow, caught between the sting of pain and the rush of pleasure. His teeth catch his lower lip, holding it there as a low, skin-tingling moan rumbles deep in his chest, his body staying still, giving you a moment to adjust.

“Please move,” you beg, barely able to get the words out, desperation lacing your voice.

He struggles to keep his breathing steady as he watches your face, studying it for any sign of discomfort. Once he’s sure you’re fine, he begins to draw his hips back slowly, his movements deliberate and deep, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward, filling you again.

Your eyes want to flutter shut, the bliss almost too much to keep conscious but you want to please him. Jaemin pulls you closer, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss, and you moan into it, the sound pulling a breathless, stomach-knotting whine from him.

He increases his pace, and you cry out, your head falling back as your hips begin to meet his. One of Jaemin’s hands tightens around the side of your waist, grounding you as he drives deeper, faster, harder — greedy. 

You move feverishly, hips bucking wildly as you try to take him deeper, craving the way his cock stretches you, hitting every nerve with overwhelming pleasure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he gasps. "Keep looking at me. I wanna see how pretty you look when I’m making you feel good."

You can only respond with a breathless gasp that catches in your throat as he buries himself deeper, rolling against you whilst your nails dig into the fabric on his shoulders.

His hand slips from your hip for a moment, reaching for your fingers to guide them down where your bodies are connected. His fingers curl around yours, bringing your hand to your throbbing clit. You take the hint, fingers moving instinctively to find the sensitive bundle, desperate to ease the tightness building in your abdomen.

"Not gonna last long, angel," he breathes, his voice ragged. "But I need you to feel good."

"Fuck," you whimper. Your hips begin to writhe, chasing the pleasure as every part of your body burns with need.

“So fucking warm and wet and tight,” he groans, forehead slick with sweat. 

Your bodies feel like they’re burning, the car steaming up with heat, the windows fogging so thickly that you leave a handprint on the glass as you steady yourself against Jaemin’s building deliberate thrusts. 

He’s fucking into you with an erotic urgency, as if he’s trying to spill out every fantasy he’s ever had about you since Jeno introduced you. It’s like he’s remembering, all at once, that he’s broken all the rules—off-limits, bro code—and he doesn’t care anymore. Doesn’t regret it one bit. Because the feel of you on his cock is totally worth it.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, your muscles contracting and fluttering around him. The feeling overwhelms you, and it only encourages him to slow his rhythm, to drag out your orgasm as long as possible. 

Jaemin finally caves, moving his face to nuzzle against you. Your hands find his hair, tugging him up so you can kiss along his neck, your lipstick staining his flesh, marking him with that signature red colour.

You keep your hips rolling with his, even after the earth-shattering orgasm he’s just given you. Every cry, whimper, and moan spills from the back of your throat at the force of him, your voice chanting his name in a string of desperate mumbles. Your body convulses and shakes as you clamp around his length, and he grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

He snaps his hips upward, grinding his body against you to savour the feeling. His muscles begin to shudder, jolting as he gasps for air, his own orgasm hitting him hard.

Hearing and feeling him lost in so much bliss only stretches the aftershocks of your release, both of you a mess of limbs and shameless sounds. Then, you feel him still completely, his release erupting in warm spurts, filling you and making you feel full of him. He’s everywhere—his scent, his kisses, his cum.

You’re left utterly spent, like a limp puddle, but Jaemin stays closely intertwined with you. You both inhale ragged breaths, neither of you daring to break apart. You’re reduced to fluttering glances weak panting and slick skin.

Jaemin’s eyes shift toward the side window, his fingers gently combing through your hair before he presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

And when he finally tries to move, there's a sudden clink, and the faint sound of liquid splashing. You both glance down at the Diet Pepsi can now toppled over and spilling its contents all over the car seat. A muffled chuckle escapes Jaemin's lips as he shakes his head.

“That stupid fucking drink,” he mutters with a grin. 

“You should be grateful,” you hum, “Without it, we probably would never have fucked.”

Jaemin shakes his head and laughs, but the humour quickly fades as his expression turns serious. He leans in close again, his lips brushing yours. 

“Not true,” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted you ever since I met you. I would’ve made a move eventually.”

“Oh yeah?” You tilt your head, teasing him. “What’s been stopping you?”

“Jeno,” Jaemin says quietly, and it’s like it hits you both at once.

Your stomach twists in knots, the mention of your brother, Jaemin’s best friend, suddenly making everything feel... wrong. 

“What are we gonna tell Jeno?”

[all4yoi]

𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )

sypnosis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.

part one !

★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )

"y/n wait!"

heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.

"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.

he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.

"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.

heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.

when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.

it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.

they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!

so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.

he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.

he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.

he needed to fix this, asap.

it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.

"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.

"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.

you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.

"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."

"why would they say that then?"

"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.

heeseung stepped closer.

"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.

"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."

you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.

he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'

"heeseung.."

"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."

you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.

"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.

"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.

"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."

★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )

jay was confused.

the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.

he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.

throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.

walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.

"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"

that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.

"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.

"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.

he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.

jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.

he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.

your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."

jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.

"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.

"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.

"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.

this way he knew how he'd make things better.

"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.

right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?

"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.

he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.

"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"

you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.

"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.

jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.

"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."

"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."

new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.

"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.

"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.

"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."

★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )

jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.

he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.

"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.

jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.

he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.

it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.

but jokes were meant to be funny, right?

jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.

your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.

"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.

"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.

jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.

and he hated that.

"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."

"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.

"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.

"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"you promise?"

"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)

sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.

it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.

it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.

that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.

guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.

he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.

i deserve it.

he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.

"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.

"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"

sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.

"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.

"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.

"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.

"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."

your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."

"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.

"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."

— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki

— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(

[shotmrmiller]

size difference where the one afraid to fuck you is simon. he thinks you soft. which is what you are. soft. fragile. small.

you're not like him. nothing like the guys. battle-scarred. muscles carved by relentless missions, scars that speak of duty.

your skin divots under his fingers, yielding to his weathered touch and if he squeezes hard enough, you'll have marks by morning. (he needs to be careful, he can't hurt you, won't—)

and so simon watches you touch yourself in the beginning, clever fingers swirling over your slippery clit with practiced movements even though his cock is straining against his trousers painfully. he can hear you mewl his name through bitten lips and it takes all of his self control to not tug his jeans off, slot himself between your spread, inviting thighs and push— stretch open your fluttering walls, so hot and slick, until he meets resistance, until he can push no more but—

he can't. you'd hurt. and he'd hurt because he hurt you. he won't.

after, when your eyes are heavy lidded, mouth slightly parted in exertion, you remind him that you aren't made of glass. that you won't break. you'll shatter— in the way you do when his tongue replaces your fingers— but not break.

"not a virgin either, for christ's sake," you groan.

maybe he's thinking too hard about it. he knows your teeth have edges, knows your bite is swift when deserved. but all he's truly good at is making things give. biology made it so with his bulky frame and raw mass.

his eyes trace the contour of your collarbone. delicate. then it darts to the pulse on your wrist. vital. his hands, the size of dinner plates don't coax. they demand. he'd snap you like a twig, leaving nothing but splintered remains in his wake.

you don't seem to mind, however. it slightly alarms him. where's your self-preservation? do you enjoy pain? is this some masochistic thing?

he looks at you, all glassy eyed and dewy skinned (ethereal; you're practically glowing under the soft light of the full moon that paints the room silver) and he thinks of how it's going to take work to make it work. his cock is large (he's seen the guys' eyes pop out of their heads in the showers once they caught a glimpse of what's between his legs) but you're persistent in the end. one too many nights of having him without having him.

he understands. simon knows better than most what it's like to yearn. to want and not have. he'd cause you pain by not giving in, and cause pain by giving in. damned if he does, damned if he doesn't.

so he caves. promises to go slow. careful.

"i can take it," you bravely say but he's barely pressing himself to your entrance and you're already making noises that tug at his pathetic little heart. the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip-- you look so pretty, how'd a twisted creature like him get someone like you to come home to-- as his cock fills you has him feeling lightheaded. it takes every ounce of self control to not sink into your heat, to hook your legs around his thick waist and let gravity do the rest.

an unsteady hand weaves its way down to your stuffed cunt, fingers splitting into a vee, feeling how he splits your puffy lips, and the view makes him buck his hips involuntarily.

his hands tighten around your calves when you keen, a high pitched noise that swells the lust he feels burning white hot at the base of his spine, tips of his fingers, deep within his loins. he feels ready to burst.

and he's only halfway in.

your voice cuts through the ringing in his ears. "m-more, simon, c'mon," the n is low and drawn out.

his fingers bite into your flesh as he pushes slow, oh so slowly, until your vise-like cunt envelops him completely. the sibilant hiss you let out makes his hair stand on end. (shame pricks at his nerves like a thousand tiny needles when his cock twitches at the sound of your slightly pained moans)

simon doesn't move, feeling your swollen walls around his cock ripple, tighten and slacken, like it's got a pulse of its own. he could be here, in you, cock deep in paradise for the rest of time.

"fuck me," you warble out, hand rubbing your swollen clit to well up the pleasure that's being smothered by the searing pang of discomfort.

when simon cants his hips back, he watches his cock come out of you, glistening with slick. his jaw aches from how hard he's clenching it. control. got to keep it slow, gentle. slow, simon, slow, slow--

"harder."

he feels the sudden sharp sting of your nails and jerks forward in surprise, filling you completely in one fast movement.

your moan this time is needy, thick with want, arousal dripping from your voice as it does your pussy, coating him in creamy white, a frothy ring at the root.

simon can see the barest of bumps below your navel, or maybe he's seeing things, your hot cunt putting him in a state of delirium but the way you take all of his cock and continue to beg for more, beg him to fuck you like he means it even though he's twice if not thrice your size well...

you'll just have to forgive him on the finger-shaped bruises they're going to be on your body after.

(you'd looked so cheeky before he flipped you onto your knees, grabbing onto your delicate neck like a lifeline as he pulled your hips to meet his. you'd taken him easier here, cunt sodden with slick but the angle had him reaching a devastating depth no one else could ever dream of reaching and even though it'd sprung tears to the corners of your eyes at the pinch, "mama ain't raise no bitch.")

[lovscb97]

tags: step-brother!park jongseong x fem!reader, d/s dynamics, dom!jay x sub!reader, manipulation lowkey?, implied male masturbation, kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), dirty talk, use of nicknames (baby, princess, jjongie, etc), degradation (slut, whore, etc), spit kink, begging, daddy kink, unprotected sex (plz don’t), breeding kink, choking, praise kink, creampie, fluff and uncertainty at the end, etc

wc: 4.12k

add. notes: ok i know i said i would Not upload soon much less written work either but guess who lied!!! no but fr my mood was pretty terrible yst morning bcs of some stupid classmates not contributing to group work but u know what i had food n ice cream w my friend n i felt a bit better at the least. it still doesn’t excuse their actions but ya anyways bcs of my peace of mind n bcs i finished my part for my presentation, i present to u a Very long stepbro jay fic hehe.. some parts or sentences may look familiar but that's cus i acc sent them to a blog here as anon messages LMFAO but yea i hope u guys enjoy :3 icon creds to @/purinkiss btw!

. . . 

ever since your parents’ divorce, your entire world shattered. it only got worse when your dad announced he’d be bringing home a new woman, much less one who had a child the same age as you. of course, you disagreed at first, throwing harsh words at him up until the point he forced you to meet the delinquent, dragging you by the arm to the restaurant where you were to have dinner with whoever these random people who were about to become part of your small family circle were. you’d even made a firm promise to yourself to not entertain them and to be petty, whether that translated through snide remarks or rolling your eyes, and you swear you really were going to go through with it—

that is, until you met jay.

jay was nothing like you’d imagined him to be. in your head, your new, soon-to-be stepbrother was an ugly, rude and snobby brat who didn’t give two cents about joining your family, the jay you met in reality though? everything but that. he was sweet, and polite, and absolutely fucking gorgeous; blonde hair swept back with a strand falling over his forehead, lean shoulders outlined in the tight fitting black shirt he’d decided to wear for the occasion, and a smile worth a thousand bucks or even dying for. any words that were previously on the tip of your tongue died down when he took your hand in his to shake it, the soft feel of his skin and his bright grin making your insides positively melt and the thoughts of your parents split dissipate within seconds. 

your stepbrother’s attitude and good looks carried through the months you spent with him too. if anything, it became even more reinforced with him taking care of you whenever you needed him. he’d handle sharp objects for you while making your favourite food, hold your hand on the street if you had to cross the road, carry your bags when they got too heavy, rush in front of the door to open it for you, and so, so much more. you were at a privilege to be able to watch him walk around with nothing but a simple shirt and sweatpants around the house too, shamelessly raking your eyes over his attractive features and boring them into his back when he leaned over the stovetop to cook you ramen. 

part of you felt like a perv, for behaving this way and finding him good looking even if he objectively was. you knew it wasn’t like you could help it, you had eyes and they obviously saw what was in front of you, but you tried shoving it down anyways. it also didn’t help that jay constantly hovered around you and made your relationship out to be so.. domestic. he’d narrow his eyes when he caught you talking on the phone to your friends about your latest hook-up, lecturing you on the use of safe sex and how college boys were no good for you until you were red in the face with embarrassment, or he’d offer for the both of you to hang out together after classes ended for you every other day, draping a blanket over your figures and scooching in close to you up until you could feel his body heat radiating off of him. your dad and his new wife thought nothing of it despite your mind spinning, cooing over how well you two got along and relishing in the fact that their children were such good siblings already.

oh, if only they were aware of the twisted fantasies swirling in jongseong’s mind.

because from the minute jay saw you, he knew he had to have you. your pretty face, your soft-spoken voice, and of course, your fucking body. he felt like he was about to lose his damn mind when he first saw you walk around the house in nothing but skimpy shorts and that stupid pink top that left nothing up to the imagination. to an extent, it almost felt like you were teasing him on purpose, especially when he’d find you seated on the couch with your exposed thighs and the subtle dip of your cleavage peeking through the measly clothes that practically coaxed him to sport a hard-on right then and there. it’d be the dead of night when he’d finally find some relief after a day of watching you parade around the kitchen, wondering what it would feel like to grip your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pull your nose flush to his pelvis with him nestled deep inside your throat. and it was only when jongseong came all over his hand and sheets for the nth time after fantasising about you that he realised he needed to do something about this, whether that went against his moral compass or not.

it started with light touches. 

jay would grasp your shoulder to move past you when you were in the way, barely mumbling an ‘excuse me’ to alert you of his presence so you wouldn’t practically jump out of your skin when he did so. his hand would linger in yours for a second too long when he tried not losing you in crowds, gently commanding you to stay close to him in that stern tone of his that made your panties stick to you. it was common etiquette, you thought, he was just doing his job as a brother would normally do for his sister, but the only thing in jongseong’s mind was to make you let down your guard, let it down so much that he could swoop in at the perfect time to take advantage of it. he knew it was wrong, so sinister and dark to want to fuck his own stepsister to the point the only way he could get it up was to the thought of you, but jay didn’t care about any of that at this point, far too fucked out in his own head to think of having eyes for anyone but you.

and as expected, all throughout this, you didn’t suspect a thing. how could you? jay was so perfect, so well-mannered and so attentive. he listened to you rant about anything trivial in your life and drove you around when you wanted to meet up with your girls. he’d wake up late at night if you had a bad dream, consoling you even through the sight of your tears making him worked up, and rub your back softly when you needed to be taken care of. he’d let you sneak back in the house after you’d told your dad you were going out to the library to study, making up excuses for you when your lies fell short. he had your back, and in turn, you had his, so you would’ve never thought of him as anything but a gentleman and big brother.

until everything he did grew into more. 

until having an arm behind your carseat while looking into the rearview mirror turned into placing his hand on your thigh, inches away from the seam of your skirt. until sitting next to him while watching a movie with a shared blanket turned into him nuzzling against you under the covered fabric. until having dinner with both your parents present at the dinner table turned into his foot grazing against yours ever so slightly.

until your honey-like voice calling out for him to help you get the glass on the top cabinet turned into full blown moans of you getting eaten out on the living room couch, echoing throughout the empty house because of-fucking-course, your parents were out for the night on a dinner date.

you weren’t even sure how it happened. one minute, you were struggling to reach on your tippy toes, your mouth instinctively moving to utter jay’s name because he was the only one besides you at home who could help out, but the next, he was pressing up against you to the point of grinding himself into your ass, causing you both to inhale sharply. you vaguely recall turning around, ready to ask what your stepbrother was doing when you’d caught sight of his darkened eyes, practically eyeing you like a piece of meat. and by the time anything even registered in your mind, his lips were already on yours, and his hand was dragging you over to the couch in record time.

“j-jay, we shouldn’t be doing this.” you stuttered out, your voice meek and quiet as you tried not to roll your eyes back at the sight of him slurping up your juices. he didn’t respond, instead opting to move his mouth up to focus on your clit, sucking it into the hot cavern and rolling his tongue against it to the point it had you seeing stars. you knew it was wrong, going against so many moral standpoints and rules, but god did it feel so good. you quickly came to understand that the jay who was going down on you currently was nothing like the jay who engages with you in your day to day life. that jay is gentle, well-meaning and answers all your questions despite how dumb they may seem. but this jay? he’s fucking filthy, messy to the point you can tell your juices are dribbling down his chin.

“fuck, you taste so good.” he gasps out when he finally decides to pull away. “thought about this so much when jerking off.” your eyes widen at his crude admittance, and you know you really should be disgusted at it, but something about the idea of jay being alone in the darkness of his room, hand wrapped around himself while saying your name under his breath only makes you wet, even more so than you already are. at the back of your mind, something screams at you to stop, but you’ve already gotten a taste of what your stepbrother can provide you, and you’d be damned if you didn’t stick around to find out more about it. 

“this is wrong.” you quietly admit anyways, even if it’s not what you want to say. but jay just hums, leaning down to hover above your figure as his arms cage you in underneath him, doing very little to help the fact of how much smaller you feel below him. his lips ghost the shell of your ear as you shiver at the proximity between you two, and he gently nips at it, leaving you biting your tongue to hold back the noises you long yearn to let out. “i know it is, baby, but doesn’t it feel so fucking good?” jay questions with a low chuckle, pulling away to cock his head to the side. you curse internally at the way the nickname sounds coming from him, a dust of light pink spreading across your cheeks because fuck, how can someone be so alluring at all times?

“don’t you want to feel even better, princess?” jay’s voice draws you out, and you hold back a moan at the way he grinds his clothed bulge against your bare opening, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s slowly convincing you over to the dark side. “don’t you want your big brother to spread this pussy open and fuck it ‘till you’re crying from how good it feels?” you almost nod, trying to resist the urge to buck your hips up to catch the sensation of his lower region against you once more. instead, you choose to turn your face away from his striking gaze staring you down, but jay just grips your jaw and turns you to face him once more, the action only making your insides swirl with delight.

“still, what if your mom and my dad find out?” you mumble, and jay just grins wickedly. he swoops in, dipping his head down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that makes you giddy with joy, sneaking his tongue past the opening of your mouth to lick into it. when he pulls back, there’s a thin line of spit connection you both, prompting you to squirm at the sight to which jay’s chest rumbles with laughter. “you’re so fucking cute, y’know that? been dreaming of having your pretty body underneath me since i met you.” he admits lowly, your wide eyes only spurring him on further. “wanna know what i think?” you slowly nod, unsure of where this is going. jay’s voice drops an octave lower as he leans in close and whispers—

“i think you’re a dirty, little slut who deserves to get fucked by her big brother.”

you can’t help the whimper that escapes you at his words this time, and that’s all the confirmation jay needs to sit up and tear off his shirt, bringing to life all the fantasies you’ve had about his body this entire time. you can’t stop yourself from reaching out a hand to touch him, nails grazing across the ridges of his toned stomach and the dip of his v-line that’s hiding the very thing you’ve been craving under his sweatpants. meanwhile, jay just watches you with lust swirling in his orbs, a small smirk playing at his swollen lips as he takes in the picture of your innocent little face ogling his figure. “you like what you see, don’t you, pretty?” he murmurs, biting his lip at the way you nod in shame. “don’t worry.” jay grunts, standing momentarily to loop his fingers inside the edges of his pants. “you’ll get what you’re craving real soon.” he winks before he’s yanking the only thing separating you both down, exposing himself in all his glory to your awaiting eyes at last. 

“goddamnit, it’s pretty.” you think to yourself when your eyes finally settle on your stepbrother’s dick. the tip is an angry shade of red, dribbling with a few beads of precum that your face falls at when jay swipes them away with his thumb as he wraps his large hand around himself. your disappointment is short-lived, however, because he’s back on top of you soon, holding the very same thumb up to your awaiting mouth to taste, to which you eagerly wrap your lips around, the salty flavour of him invading your senses. “good girl.” jongseong commends as you suckle at the tip of his finger, the praise going straight to your core. he pulls his hand away from you after a short while, that same wet thumb snaking its way down to find your clit and pressing against it, which does nothing but rip a noise of satisfaction from you. jay continues to rub at your engorged nub, his gaze fixated on the sight of your pussy as if he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“shit. i can’t wait any more.” he growls after another second, retracting his hand to wrap it around himself instead, pumping once or twice before he’s pressing the head against your awaiting entrance. you watch with bated breath as he rubs against your folds, slicking up with your oozing juices until your patience starts wearing thin. “jay,” you huff after a minute, legs kicking up in frustration as your stepbrother glances at you teasingly. “what do you want, angel? use your big girl words and tell me.” he smiles, almost innocent to the point you even forget the compromising position you’re both in.

“want.. want you.” you admit shyly, averting your eyes to a forgotten corner in the room as jay tsk’s. “look at me when you speak, whore.” he spits out, his entire demeanour changing in an instant. it only makes you leak even more, and you swallow thickly, eyes pleading. “please fuck me, please. wan’ you to do what you said, spreading me open and using me until i cry, please, please, please. jjongie, daddy, please, i—“

you don’t even get the chance to finish because by the time both the nickname and title leave your mouth, jay has long lost his composure, instantly pushing inside you as he attempts to bottom out his large cock. he hisses at the way your warm walls envelop him, and the only thing you can do is cry out at the way you’re being stretched out to your limit, finally having the emptiness inside you satiated with the presence of your stepbrother’s dick. “fuuuck, that’s it, look at this tiny, little hole sucking me in.” jay curses, and you flare red in embarrassment at his nasty words, ignoring the way they only make you gush around him even more. 

“i’m going to absolutely ruin you, baby.” is the only thing jay says before he’s pulling out and slamming himself back into you, leaving you to cry out as his mushroom tip instantly hits that one spot deep inside. his thrusts are erratic, filled with a fervour none of the other guys you’ve ever slept with had, and you think the way he’s fucking you now is definitely going to rectify his promise of fucking you until you’re crying, the occasion seeming to be very well on its way of happening. 

“fuck, there is no way this is the last time we’re doing this.” jay groans, the noise of skin slapping and your moans echoing throughout the living room as he continues absolutely drilling you. each drag of his cock drives into you with sheer power and raw desire to completely destroy you it seems, and you’re sure nobody is ever going to top it. “gonna use you everywhere, every time i please. you want that too, don’t you? tell me you do, princess. tell me and daddy will fuck you like he means it every single time.” he blurts out. the only way you can respond is through incoherently mumbling and the nodding of your head, far too dazed out already at the way your stepbrother is pounding into you, which only draws a breathy laugh from jay. “seems i’ve fucked you dumb already, huh? cock that good? so good it’s got my baby all dumb?” he taunts. you only whine at his words, drool spilling out from the side of your lips which jay wipes off with a chuckle.

“i’m already close, god.” he sighs, his movements unrelenting and balls tightening with the way they slap against your ass. “want me to cum inside you? for daddy to breed this pussy full? maybe i should do it and make you walk around with my seed lodged deep in your messy cunt.” jay hisses, his hand snaking it ways to your neck as he continues talking. “bet you’d like that ‘cause you’re a filthy fucking bitch. letting your stepbrother fuck your tight cunt as he pleases.” slender fingers wrap around the skin and tighten their grip slightly to restrict your airflow, and that’s all it takes to abruptly push you over the edge, leaving you dropping your mouth open in a silent scream as you cum. jay continues fucking you through your high, making out your small mewls amongst the lewd sounds of his cock shoving into your hole. 

“good girl, good fucking girl. did so well for me, came so much all for daddy. you’re so, so good to me, princess. fuck, i love you.” jay blabbers as he lets go of your neck, too lost in chasing his own peak to even realise what he’s just admitted. you don’t catch it fully either in your haze of overstimulation that he continues to fuck you through, but some unconscious part of you mutters it back as best as you can somehow. jay’s heart swells at the way you take him, so small and pliant for him to just use for his own good, and he leans in to smash his lips against yours, drinking in your loud sounds as his movements start to falter with his upcoming release washing over him. 

“just a bit more, pretty, just a bit. such a good fucking girl for daddy, letting him use your body, fuck. i’m gonna cum deep inside you, angel. gonna reward you with my cum. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? like me to creampie this precious hole?” jay stammers out, the coil in his stomach close to snapping. he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up his exterior, sweat dripping down his forehead and closed eyes as his tired hips continue ramming his cock into you. he feels you wrap your arms around his neck, cracking his orbs open to find your fucked out face mumbling for his cum, your legs wrapping against his waist to keep him locked into you. 

“cum in me, daddy, please cum in me. wan’ your cum, i’ll take it like a good girl. please, daddy.” you babble, and that’s all it takes to send jay over the edge too, loud groans leaving his mouth as he shoots thick ropes of white inside your walls, painting them with his release. he cums for what feels like forever, holding your body close to his as his cock throbs inside your spasming cunt that’s still greedily sucking him in, urging him to fill you up. he finally stops after seemingly a good minute, panting against your neck where he’s buried his face into as he lets the post-orgasm bliss wash over himself.

“fuck,” jay heaves a breath once he’s finally recovered, making sure to use his softening cock to keep you plugged up in fear his cum will drip down and stain the couch, much less make your scandalous activities known to both your parents. he knows he’s going to have to face the reality of everything soon, but for now, he chooses to ignore it, propping himself up with an arm as he takes a look at your tired face that’s still so beautiful even after he basically fucked you within an inch of your life.

“you okay?” he asks softly after a while, prompting you to open your eyes and look up at him. there’s so much love and adoration in them that it makes jay feel all gooey inside, and when you nod with a small smile on your lips, he can’t help but lean back in and kiss you, desperately wishing this won’t be the last time he feels your mouth on his. “you think we made a mess?” you wonder out loud with a giggle once he’s pulled away, and jay just laughs breathlessly at you, brushing a strand of loose hair out of your face to take a proper look. “i’ll clean it up if so, don’t worry, baby.” he reassures in a quiet voice, leaving you to hum in agreement as a response.

“jay.” 

“hm?”

“..what now?” 

jay inhales when you bring forth the question he doesn’t have an answer to, looking down at you to find your worried expression staring back at him. he coos when you jut out your bottom lip, brushing a thumb against your cheek smoothly as he sighs. “don’t worry about that now, princess. just sleep.” he murmurs. 

he can tell you’re not entirely satisfied with his admission, and that you want to say something more, but even if you do, you choose not to, instead opting to follow his advice and shutting your eyes by letting the fatigue from what you’d just been through take over your body. jongseong watches as you slowly close off your thoughts and mind, gently resting his body weight on top of you in favour of pulling you closer. he tries to avoid thinking of the inevitable that’ll come to wake him up, but he’ll deal with that later, choosing to bask in this moment with you for as long as he can before he has to face reality. instead, he presses a small kiss to your cheek, nuzzling it with his nose before closing his own eyes. he eventually drifts off to dreamland, where his thoughts will still be filled with your face.

. . . 

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

[miserycanary]

BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you. 

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night. 

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you  

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind. 

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not. 

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you. 

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest. 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well. 

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows. 

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle. 

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt. 

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him. 

God, what has he done? 

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

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[webism]

Choso Kamo is desperate enough as it is, always eager to be touched by you, to taste you on his lips—it's hard to handle. Add a (rather expensive) block of aphrodisiac chocolate to the mix and you think you've made a mistake.

You told him to take only one, and to wait for you to get home to do so. You wanted to take them together and see if what the packaging promised was any true — that you’d be ‘sweating for sex’ in fifteen minutes flat. 

But he didn’t listen, or didn’t care to listen, because you’re still out for lunch with your friends when your phone rings and Chosos contact lights up your homescreen. You have to excuse yourself to take the call and answer with a sweet, unsuspecting ’hey, baby,’ that makes Choso nearly orgasm on the spot. 

“You have to come home.”

“What?” You think maybe you’ve misheard him over the chatter of the sweet little cafe you’re stood in. 

“Please, baby, please come home. I need you so bad it hurts, I’ve cum twice thinking about you because I didn’t want to bother you but it’s not enough and I’m hot everywhere and my stomach hurts because I need you so bad and—”

He never listens. You grumble the entire way home, your annoyance sparking flames over the burning heat in your core at the thought of your pretty boyfriend at home quite literally sweating for sex. You have to remind yourself to be upset at him for not listening because otherwise the thought of him, hot skin stuck to your bedsheets as he fucks into his fist wishing it was you, floods your mind instead. You wonder if he fucks different like this, if his typical gentle touch will be replaced with something needier—you’re of half a mind to deny him his pleasures, but that would be a disservice to yourself as well. 

When you step through your front door, you’re hit with the heavy scent of sex that usually permeates the room after you and Cho have been particularly energetic in between the sheets. It’s confusing, because how can one man fuck himself enough to change the temperature of the house? But it also goes straight to your cunt, a desperate sort of need blooming in your stomach that mirrors your boyfriends. 

The house is quiet, though, despite the fact you half expect Choso to be crying with need. Maybe he finally got it out of his system, called you home for nothing and is probably too spent to fuck the new need out of you. 

But as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re met with the sight of your beautiful other half laid out on the bed as he fucks his fist so desperately in one hand you’re surprised his speed isn’t painful. His other hand is lifted to his mouth and caught between his teeth in a pathetic attempt to stifle his moans—the walls of your apartment are thin, at least he’s of sound enough mind to consider your neighbours. 

When his eyes lay sight on you, though, his crazed strokes still and he’s climbing off the bed in barely a second to bee-line straight to you. 

“Take a breath,” you manage as he grasp your hips and starts manhandling you to the bed.

“Can’t,” his voice is heavy.

“Cho—“ you’re pushed down onto the bed, your lover following to climb on top of you and attach his lips to the column of your neck. 

“I need you.”

And need he does, you can feel it in the way he slips your clothes from your body with such intent you barely notice it happen. You can feel it in the way his kisses light fire against your skin as he works down your chest, ribs, stomach, hips and finally reaching your aching cunt. 

A swipe of two fingers through your folds is enough to tell Choso you’re as needy as he is… almost. You aren’t quite soaked in sweat and nearly teary-eyed with want. But you’re fucking soaked. 

“Did you eat them too?” He asks, voice laced with want—he’s desperate for a taste of you, and allows himself a moment to swirl his tongue around your clit as your eyes widen in response. 

“No… I just—fuck, Choso, right there.”

You could kill him for pulling away from you, your wetness glistening on his pretty lips as he pouts at you. “Need you. I’ll make you feel so good, I promise, and I’ll eat you after I just…”

“Fuck me, Cho,” you allow him, partially because you don’t think you could go much longer without his length completing you. 

“I love you,” he whines as he rights himself and slaps his cock against your pretty pussy a few times before pushing into you with a gasped “I love you I love you I love you.”

And it might be the raw intimacy speaking on your behalf but you swear you can feel his love through the way he fills you with his cock. You’re two halves of a whole and finally conjoined through overwhelming pleasure… the stretch is uncomfortable, sure, Choso has a length he doesn’t know how to handle, but you don’t care when the way he practically drools once he bottoms out is so desperate. 

And god does it feel good when he starts to move. He’s so eager and desperate that rather than the gentle thrusts he usually makes to test the waters of your comfort, he’s straight into rutting against you like he’s in heat—which, in a way, you guess he is. 

Choso pulls your thighs up between the two of you and works himself into a mean mating press that has him reaching depths inside of you he’s never kissed with the tip of his cock. He can hardly see straight, pussy drunk already and babbling away about how good you feel wrapped around him, how he’s yours, all yours and always yours. 

“All for you,” tears prick at his eyes the closer he comes to his fourth or fifth climax of the day—the sun hasn’t even begun its descent. “My cock is for you, my cum, my heart—I’m all yours I belong to you, please take me, god you take me so good.”

He’s crying. Desperation stains his cheeks as he distracts himself from the hot tears by kissing you with trembling lips as he tries to push impossibly deeper into you. Your legs ache, you’ve never been split open so deep and you’re not sure you’ll ever stop grieving the loss when Choso finally pulls out of you. 

You don’t think you’ve ever cum this fast either, but the moment Choso starts holding his breath and knitting his eyebrows together as he does when he’s about to finish, you feel that wave of dizzying euphoria wash right through you—from head to toe you’re hit with pleasure like waves crashing on the shorelines, and you shake underneath your lust-drunken lover. 

“Oh baby,” he fucks you through it, chases his orgasm so strong it hurts, tightens his balls and makes him wonder how he’s not cumming dry yet. “Feel so good, I’m sorry I know it’s a lot I’m sorry, I love you I love you.”

It’s a blur, but you feel full with his cum and never do you want him to pull out. You think you’re still shaking, but Choso has you fucked so deeply into the mattress that you wouldn’t be able to tell even if you had the energy to care. He’s still twitching inside of you, each minor movement sends static up your spine. You might’ve just seen heaven, you think. 

And with a shaky breath, and pupils so dilated with need he looks high, Choso presses a wet kiss to your lips, pulls back and in as sorry of a tone he can muster:

“Im sorry, baby, I need more.”

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[marvelwitchergilmore]

Small Touches and Simple Gestures

Summary: Javier Peña x Fe!Reader -> For years you've pretended to be married to avoid unwanted attention. But what happens when the lie you've been living, suddenly becomes true. Well, at least a part of it.

Disclaimer: Swearing, fluff, one of the agents making a move on Reader though nothing happens (Javi stops it). Fake dating, falling in love, embarrassing mothers, office romance. Heavy smut towards the end, so 18+. Happy ending. A lot of smaller intimate moments between Javi and Reader away from the smut, too. Kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

If someone had told you that three years into working with Agent Javier Peña you’d be wearing a wedding band, marrying you to him for at the very least, the foreseeable future…you wouldn’t have believed them. 

And you would be right not to. Because that, technically, wasn’t what it was for. 

And it had all started with a question that Peña asked you one day as you sat at your desk. 

“Was he real?”

You slowly tore your attention away from the case file in front of you. “What?”

“Your husband.”

For a moment you forgot all about how you’d first come to interact with Peña. He had asked you out. Well, flirted heavily then asked you out. 

“What husband?”

Javi stood as he talked, walking towards your desk and sitting down on the edge of it closest to you. “One day you’re wearing a wedding ring telling me you’re married, the next it’s gone.”

You looked at your hand. “Oh. Yeah.” You decided to admit the truth. “I made him up.”

Despite his constant theories, he was still shocked. “What?”

“I made him up.”

You said it as if you were asking him how his day was. Like it was nothing new. 

“You made him up?”

“You try and be a single woman in this office who doesn’t like getting hit on by every guy who thinks with his dick,” you told him. “See how quickly you make up a fake family.”

He had to laugh. “But I hit on you.”

You looked at him, suppressing an already knowing smirk on your face. “My point exactly.”

“Think I got something.” From the door, Steve came sweeping inside and threw a couple of files down on Javi’s desk. The previous topic was dropped for now but you took a moment to revel in the shock graced on Peña’s face. 

However, a few hours later, it was brought back up again. 

You’d been standing in the evidence locker, looking for yet another misplaced case file. Could people not read in this office? Had they lost all sense of the alphabet? You sighed heavily. 

“How long have you been doing it?”

You jumped and found Peña standing behind you. “Jesus, Peña. Make a noise or something. Fuck.” You turned back to the messy shelf in front of you. 

“So?”

You sighed. “Doing what? This? Feels like hours.”

He shook his head and rounded you before leaning against the side of the shelves. “Not the files. You being married.”

“Oh, uh…” You pulled a few hefty files and handed them over to him before reaching down onto the lower shelf and pulling those files up. “Couple years, I guess. Since before the Academy.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you hear me earlier, or do I need to repeat myself, Peña?”

He shook his head again and put the files down. “No, I heard you. But that’s here. Why did it start?”

You sighed and stopped what you were doing to look at him. “Why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

He let out a small chuckle. “What? Come on, you’re one of the first Agents here to reject me not once, but three different times.”

You raised a subtle eyebrow. “I was married when you did that.”

“The first time, yes.” Javi corrected. “But that was an honest mistake. The second and third time, there was no ring on your finger. And, after this morning, you technically weren’t married at all. Look, just answer my questions and then I’ll drop it forever.”

“You promise?”

He held up his hand. “Scouts honour.”

You gave a questioned hum. “It’s difficult to imagine you as a Scout.”

“Y/l/n.”

You groaned. “Fine. It started because I got asked out a couple of times by this guy. He seemed nice and all but I wasn’t interested. So, when he asked why I kept saying no, I told him I was married. Swapped my rings over under the bar top before showing it to him. He took it well, apologised and said my husband was a lucky fella.”

Peña continued to listen. 

“Then I moved away. The second time I was with someone but this guy just kept hitting on my friend. She went to the bathroom and then he started on me. Told him I was with someone. He didn’t believe me. So, I showed him my wedding band. Said my friend was married, too. He,” you sighed. “Eventually backed-off. After that it just kinda became my go-to. People I interviewed preferred to see a married woman than a single woman being a cop. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t start out my job as married. But the minute the compliments, and the touching and the dates being pre-arranged because they expected me to say yes…once they all started, I started wearing my wedding ring.”

“So why take it off?”

You shrugged. “Guess I must have forgotten. Besides, nobody has tried anything in the last couple of years. We’ve all been too busy.”

For a moment, Peña’s demeanour seemed to shift. “But I’ve flirted with you.”

You smiled a tired smile and stepped back from the files for a moment. “I work with you, Peña. I like you but I think I’m immune.”

“That hurts.” He deadpanned before placing a hand over his heart. “That…wow.”

You laughed. “I think you’ll bounce back.”

And he did. That night he walked out telling Murphy he had a date with the stall girl he’d met a few days ago. 

The following weeks were hectic as different cases made their way across your desk, all with connections to Peña and Murphy’s biggest case; Pablo Escobar. 

From interviewing victim’s families, to interrogations, to the crappy coffee in the break room. Your days and nights were spent looking over files and dealing with your case loads. Until one afternoon in the breakroom led to something you never had expected. 

There was another Agent working at the Embassy. You’d seen him around a few times, shared a conversation or two. But most importantly, he had seen your wedding ring. You hadn’t missed his behaviour over the last couple of days. It started with smiles in the hallway – innocent enough. Then you found him in your breakroom more. Apparently the coffee was better. Then he was sitting at your table during lunch – apparently his partner was out for the day and he felt like some company. You didn’t miss his eyes clocking your hand. 

“Your wedding band. It’s gone.”

You didn’t know why at the time, but the lie fell from your lips. “Oh, yeah, It’s in for a cleaning. It had a couple dark patches and scuffs on it.”

More things started creeping up. Like how he always stood just that little bit closer and not in a comforting way, when you were both talking. Or how his eyes looked you up and down before you got to speaking distance from each other. 

Then in the breakroom, the ‘compliments’ started. How your hair looked – how it always looked. How you always made ‘women’s clothes look so much better’. How he enjoyed spending time with you because you actually talked to him. 

“You know,” he trailed a finger up your arm and you were three seconds away from breaking it and running to take a scalding hot shower. “I was thinking we could get away for a while. After all, we both deserve a break. Maybe take these lunches outside of the office.”

You stepped back. “I’m married.”

“Oh, come on, we both know that’s a sham.” He told you, taking a step closer as you took another one back. “You never bring him to office parties, there’s no pictures on your desk-”

“I don’t need to prove to you or to anyone else that I’m married.”

He laughed. He actually laughed. “You’re not about to tell me he lives in Canada are you?”

“No. He-”

“He’s right here.”

It was safe to say you were shocked, but the agent didn’t seem to notice as he turned round and found Javi standing in the hallway. 

“Peña. I was just-”

“Scaring my wife?”

The guy was turning paler by the second and yet somehow his ego carried him through. “You mean work-wife, because I have to say Javi, that doesn’t really count.”

“How about a marriage certificate? Does that count for you?” Peña finally found you by his side before he whispered to you.

“You okay, cariño?” All you could do was nod, the shock of him pretending to be your husband still settling over you. 

He looked back to the agent who had been hitting on you. “I’m gonna tell you this once and only once. Hit on my wife or scare her again, and I’ll kill you.”

“Javi-”

“I don’t think Messina would be happy to learn one of her best Agents was being sexually harassed.”

He nodded, backing away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Javi shook his head. “Not to me. To her.”

Awkwardly, the guy looked from Javi, around the room, back to Javi and then to you. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t speak. Peña’s your husband?

“You can go.” 

Taking Javi’s instructions, he left. Peña then waited a minute before turning towards you. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“What?” He asked, holding the coffee pot in one hand and your mug in the other. 

“Javi…” You looked around the room before looking back at him. “This is gonna spread around the office. You and I -- married.”

He shrugged. “What’s the big deal? Now you’ve got a physical person to pretend to be your husband.”

“Javi.” He handed you your cup of coffee before pouring his own. “Please tell me you are aware of your own reputation? And the fact that we are colleagues? And the fact that I have been making a husband up for god knows how long? People are going to know this is fake and then I’ll be judged – heavily – for it.”

“Why would you be judged?”

You rested a hand on your hip. “This is gonna look like I’ve used you to be my pretend husband and everyone will just feel sorry for me and make a big joke about it with you.”

“Except I’m the one that told him.” Peña pointed out. “If anything, that’s what’s going to spread around the office.”

“Ah yes, I can see the headlines now; ‘Agent Javier ‘slut’ Peña finally ties himself down with a female colleague.’.”

He shrugged. “We don’t have to be tied down if you don’t want to.”

You hit him on the arm. “Be serious.”

“Look,” he set his coffee cup down and took you by the shoulders. “If it becomes anything then we just fake it. We already spend most of our time together anyway, and who hasn’t had an office romance once in their life?”

“I haven’t.”

Peña paused for a second before nodding. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost your office romance virginity.”

“Peña.”

He shook it off. “All I’m saying is, if it becomes a thing, we just…roll with it.”

“Roll with it?”

He nodded. “Roll with it.”

“There’s a chance our careers hang in the balance because I’m pretty sure this breaks at least three rules in HR. And your grand solution is to…’roll…with it.’.”

Javi nodded once more. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was not fine. Neither of you were fine. Especially considering two days later you were both forced into Messina’s office where, before you could spit out the truth, Messina interrupted and said she didn’t want to know. Just that you both had to remain completely professional and that if someone ever caught either of you, you’d both be suspended. 

So, things remained somewhat neutral. You both received a couple of looks from other co-workers. Murphy teased both of you relentlessly, despite being the only one to know the truth since you stopped the elevator when all three of you were inside to tell him as much. 

But then the loud rumours started and people didn’t even try to hide them. 

Whilst pouring you and Peña a cup of coffee each – something you had done almost everyday for three years, you could hear people gossiping. 

“Maybe he knocked her up. Shotgun wedding, you know?”

“I don’t think they’re even a couple. I mean, they never show any kind of affection to each other.”

One disagreed with that statement. “No, I’ve seen him with her a few times. Little touches here and there. Must be their love language. Small touches and simple gestures.”

“That’s cute, I guess. But I kinda expected more from Javi. He was always so…you know.”

The woman beside her sighed, “Yeah.”

You walked away more confused about life than you had been since before you started highschool. 

It was clear the rest of the office ‘knew’ about ‘you and Javi’. And that they each had a different opinion on the matter. And some of them you didn’t even know about, but Javi did. 

He’d heard everything from your marriage to him being a sham because he got you pregnant, to both male and female staff asking him “why y/n?”. Except, it was never in a friendly manner. To the men, it was either because they thought “Javi could have any choice he wanted, and he went for her?”, or because he’d gone for one of the women they had wanted “a shot at” themselves. And to the women it was…much of the same thing, with an added jealous streak wondering why he went for “the one woman who didn’t want” him, when most of the other women who’d worked with him “actually wanted” him. 

Javi’s eyes trailed your every move from the coffee station, back to your desk and then towards him. “You okay?”

You zoned back into reality and handed him his coffee. “Yeah. Fine. What have you got?”

Turning the case file around, he told you. 

Around a month or so later, not much had changed. People were still gossiping about your marriage to Peña, the case was gathering little evidence so the constant reviewing of previous case loads was underway. Between keeping up the lie of your marriage to Javi – despite neither of you having to do much out of your normal routine – and the case work and the constant heart attack you got when Messina would stop walking when stood directly between your desk and Peña’s before humming and moving along, you were running out of energy. 

“Come to mine after work.”

You looked around. People were looking but they were too far out of earshot to hear. 

You took the paper from Javi. 

“Why?”

“You’re tired, and I’m tired watching you eat that shitty stuff from the cafeteria. I’m cooking dinner.”

You looked up at him, shocked. “You can cook?”

He smiled. “Yeah, yeah. After work. I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

Javi tapped your desk twice before walking away and looking around the office. Everyone who had been looking quickly looked away before looking back at you. Once they found you looking, they turned back to their work. 

For a moment, you looked at the half stale coffee on your desk. It would be nice to have a decent meal considering you’d been eating left-overs for about a week and half. 

And he kept his promise. 

Javi had left work an hour before you were supposed to. He’d grabbed his jacked off the hook behind your desk, bent down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your body too tired to fight off leaning into him when he did so. You had meant to clock out of work an hour later but staring at words, losing concentration and trying to focus back in meant when you finally looked at the clock, you were getting close to being forty minutes late. 

“Shit.”

Not bothering to drop your stuff off in your apartment two floors up, you found Javi’s door unlocked like he’d said and you walked inside. 

It smelt like heaven. Good, hot food. And Javi. 

It was quiet as you walked down his hallway and eventually found him relaxing on the sofa, his legs thrown across the rest of it. He was watching reruns. 

“Relax,” you could hear the smile in his voice despite not being able to see his face. “Figured you’d be late. Food’ll be ready soon.”

With a relieved sigh, you dropped your bag by the steps and walked around. He moved his legs for you to sit down and he watched you for a moment as you pushed the heels of your hands into your eyes and leaned back. 

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” you admitted. 

“Come ‘ere.” His voice was soft and quiet as he reached out for you by the shoulder. Looking at him for a moment before silently agreeing, you let him pull you down until eventually you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his legs tangled with yours. 

It took him a moment, but Javi removed your hair-tie letting your hair loose before running his fingers through it. You relaxed almost immediately, feeling the once growing headache slowly melt away with each touch of his hand. 

You could have fallen asleep but he didn’t let you. “You’ve gotta eat. I didn’t slave over a hot stove for nothing.”

You groaned a little and buried yourself deeper into his side. “How are you this calming?”

“It’s my natural touch.” Javi told you before kissing the top of your head and sitting up. “Come on. Dinner’s ready. Then I promise, you can fall asleep.”

“Hallelujah.” 

It took you a moment but your head eventually stopped spinning long enough for you to sit up and walk over to the table where Javi had set down both of your meals. And it was one of the best you’d ever had; either because he was a great cook, or you were starving enough that any food that wasn’t cafeteria left-overs would taste like heaven at that moment. Though, you had a feeling it was the first one. 

In silence, you both washed and dried. Until you spoke out the pressing question on your mind. 

“What happens if we meet ‘the one’?”

“What ‘one’?” Javi handed you another freshly washed plate. 

“I mean,” you spun it through the dish towel. “To everyone else, we’re married. But what if we end up meeting the person we actually want to date and marry? What do we do then?”

Javi shrugged. “Guess we get divorced.”

“But we’re not actually married.”

“Then we play it by ear. They say when you know you know…maybe when we know, we just…tell them the truth. But I doubt that’s gonna happen.” Javi nearly crapped himself. “For me, not you. I doubt that’ll happen for me.”

You looked at him. “Why?”

For a moment, he was quiet. Thinking. Deliberating. “Back in Texas, I was gonna get married. Lorraine. She was a wonderful woman but…I don't know. I was driving to the church and I just stopped.”

“You left her at the altar?”

“I never made it to the church,” he admitted. “I don’t know. I suppose at some point I’d settle down but…” Javi shrugged. “I can see it happening for you though, so, whenever you do meet him, I can be there to help explain this whole…situation we’ve got going on.”

You laughed a little at that. “Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, you were half asleep before Javi pulled you over to him once more. The last thing you could remember was you taking a deep breath in, the scent of him, his home and his cooking fill your senses. 

When you woke up, you found yourself still on the sofa, the news playing on the TV and Javi cooking in the kitchen. It took you a while before your brain registered you weren’t still dreaming and you’d fallen asleep not only at Peña’s, but also on him. 

“Hey,” Peña shook you back awake. “Breakfast is ready.”

You placed your hand over his and nodded. “Okay.”

Neither of you said anything when you ate, just listened to the news that passed over the speakers of the TV. 

“Who taught you to cook?” You asked, turning to look at him as he drove you both to work. 

“My dad. My mom helped, but dad was the one who burnt less stuff.”

After eating, you’d run to your apartment to get a fresh change of clothes and run a brush through your hair, only to be greeted by your husband at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll drive us to work.”

So, now you were driving to work with Javi before hopping out of his car and being led with a warm hand at the bottom of your back through the hallways of work before you both finally reached your desks. 

And for the first time in weeks, you finally had the energy to get through your work day. And so did Javi. 

Although things started to change when you got a surprise visit from your mother.

You’d been working for weeks on the same case and in between all of the case work, the fake marriage and the few months that followed, you’d forgotten to write to your mother. 

It was her one agreement with you moving to Columbia. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop you – it was your job and you were good at it, plus, despite all of the gear grinding you had to do every now and again, you loved it. But knowing she didn’t accept your decision to work as DEA in Columbia would have slowly killed you – and her, too. 

Any time she called, you’d either been dead asleep – either at yours or Javi’s – or at work. So, she took the notion to come and see you. 

So when you walked down the hall towards your office and heard your mother’s voice ask you a question, you felt your entire body crash to a screaming halt before realising what and why she was asking. 

“You’re married?” 

“Mom.”

Your mom called your full name and walked towards you. “What this lovely woman just told me better not be true, or else that means I’ve missed my daughter’s wedding.”

You tried your best to remain calm and relaxed. Two emotions you were desperately clinging onto for dear life. “She tells me his name is Javier Pen…”

For a moment, she looked back to the secretary who nodded and whispered his name again for your mother to repeat with full confidence to you. “Javier Peña.”

“Mom, maybe it’s best we-”

Then the secretary spoke up in excitement. “Oh, there he is. Javi!”

Looking up from his own case file, about to turn down the hallway, he found who was calling him before seeing who was standing in front of them. You and, from what he could guess, your mother. 

Shit. Your mother? No. She was back in the States. Maybe he’d remembered her face wrong from the picture behind your desk. 

Walking over, Javi’s hand came to your lower back before he quickly brushed a kiss against your cheek. “Cariño, you okay?”

You tried to remain calm as you said the next sentence. “Javi, this is my mother. Mom, this is my..husband..Javi.”

Then something you hadn’t expected to happen, happened. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs Y/l/n. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

“I wish I could say the same.” But she still shook his hand and allowed him to press a light kiss to the back of it. 

Carefully, Javi stepped back and pulled you closer towards him, your mother’s eyes never once stopping to not examine the couple that stood in front of her. 

Javi nodded. “We are sorry about that. But, maybe we can make it up to you.”

You looked at Javi a little panicked. But your mother was already interested. “Oh?”

“I’m guessing you’re staying here for a few days? Come and stay with us. I can make us dinner and we can all get to know each other.”

Then your mom smiled. Apparently Javi already had her approval. “Well…I think that would be lovely. But don’t think either of you are getting off lightly. I missed my daughter’s wedding that I didn’t even know about.”

“Honey, give your mother our address, I’ll ask-”

She shook her head. “No, no. You all seem busy. I can take myself there. And I’d like to see what’s around the market stalls. Is there anything I can bring for dinner?”

Javi shook his head. “No, not at all.”

You smiled. “He’s got it covered, mom. Just bring yourself.”

“Alright then. Well, I look forward to seeing you both for dinner.”

In the space of five minutes you’d all said your goodbye’s and you had ever so sweetly pulled your husband towards your office before closing the door and blinds and turning back to your partner. 

“What the hell are you thinking?”

Javi shrugged. “She’s come down here to see you. We might as well make the effort.”

“We? Javi. We don’t live together. She’s gonna take one look around my apartment and realise I still live there. She’s gonna take one more look at my face and realise everything that’s happened is a complete sham and then she’s gonna parade it around town that I’m still single. She won’t mean it harshly, but she will.”

“So, we don’t tell her and just say we haven’t had a chance to move things since getting married. We’ll be okay.”

You let out a panicked laugh before you started pacing. “I knew this was a bad idea. It’s bad enough we’re lying to people here.”

“You’re the one that started it before I got roped in.”

“Hey! You roped yourself into this. You were the one that said you were my husband.”

“Would you have preferred for Agent Dickbag to keep pushing?!”

You took a breath. “Javi…I don’t know if I can lie to her. What…what do I tell my family when they find out? This was just meant to keep people like Agent Dickbag away…”

Reading the panic all over your body, Javi stood and walked towards you until you were wrapped in his arms. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll keep the secret up long enough to make sure nobody else finds out the truth, and then you can just say we rushed into things. We got a quick divorce and moved on, civilly.”

“I think you missed your calling in Acting.” You told him. “I think my mom already has your seal of approval.”

“Really?” He pulled back a little and smiled. “That’s a first.”

“We’ll be okay?”

He nodded. “We’ll be okay.”

And you believed him. 

Because it was true. 

In the space of about fifteen minutes, you and Javi managed to move some things from your apartment, into his to make it seem more…homely. Like two people actually lived there. Especially since your mom would be living in your apartment for the next couple of days until she flew back home to the rest of your family. 

“Will she really check the bedroom?” Javi called from the kitchen. 

You’d moved some things to the second bedside table. One or two books, a couple of hair-ties, plasters, “stray” pens. You tried your best to make it look believable as possible. 

“You don’t know her like I do. This woman is Jessica Fletcher. Unsuspecting to the world, but in fact sees everything. Trust me, you do not want to end up in interrogation with my mother. Happened to a perp once. She came in to visit my dad but he was wrangling a couple of the officers so she walked around, found the perp sitting in holding and she actually got a confession out of him. Cops had been trying all day and nothing. A five minute conversation with my mother and they got a full written confession out of him.”

Javi gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

“Yeah. So, trust me, what I’m doing? It’s gonna, hopefully, save us some grief.”

Javi was still cooking by the time your mom knocked on his door and you brought her inside. Immediately her eyes scanned the place picking up on the pictures, books and music. 

“It smells delicious.”

“He’s a good cook.”

And for the first couple of minutes everything ran smoothly. Your mother did everything you’d expected her to do. She even passed Javi in the kitchen to look into your bedroom. 

“She really did it.” Javi mouthed. 

“Told you so,” you mouthed back. 

“Mom, do you wanna come and sit down? I can get you a drink.”

“I’ll have a soda if you have it, please.”

You got your mom a soda and poured it into a glass with ice, handing it to her as she stood still examining your home. 

“So, how is he in bed?” She whispered a little too loud to you. 

You felt yourself go bright red. Redder still when you heard Javi chuckle from the kitchen. “Mom!”

“What? I’m allowed to ask my daughter these questions. I need to know you’re being satisfied in every aspect of your marriage.”

You groaned and covered your eyes. “Mom.”

“You’re being careful? Using condoms? You know pulling out doesn’t work as birth control.”

You could have died. “Mom, please. Stop.”

Javi let out a small laugh as he walked from the kitchen and handed you a drink. “Mrs Y/l/n, if you really want to know-”

“Oh no. No, Javi, please. Please don’t encourage her.”

“We’re being safe. Having a family right now probably wouldn’t be the best move for either of us.”

Your mother just graced him with a soft smile. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

“I’m not,” you groaned a little. “Can we please change the conversation?”

“You know, she’s always been like this.” Your mom told Javi who only seemed to revel in your terror. 

“Really? This isn’t a new thing?”

“No,” you mom told him. “She went just as red when I gave her the birds and the bees talk.”

“That’s because you decided to tell me in the middle of my middle school hallway during a Parent’s Evening.”

“And when I took her to the doctors to get her on the pill.”

You covered your face. “I’m in hell.”

Javi’s hand reached for your shoulder and shook you lightly as he sat on the arm of the chair beside you. You leaned into him. 

“I’d finally got it out of her that she’d had sex and next-”

“And next thing I’m being wrangled into an office chair with the doctor having my mother shout from the rooftops her daughter was no longer a virgin.”

Your mom gasped. “It wasn’t like that,”

You leaned into your husband who’d just let out a small laugh. “Please make it stop.”

“Okay, I’ll drop it.”

“Thank you.”

“But I’m glad to know you’re being satisfied. Your face tells me more than you think.”

“Okay!” You stood up quickly and tried to run away, only to feel Javi’s hand reach out and pull you back, spinning you to stand by him. From the light red in his cheeks, he felt a little embarrassed, too, but he seemed to handle it a lot better than you. 

He was chuckling. “Don’t think you’re able to run from this. I wanna know more about you from your mom.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to be here for it.” You tried to make a break for it again, but Javi caught you and for a moment, the rest of the room seemed to slowly disappear from sight as you found yourself trapped in his hands and arms, and his gaze on you, just as yours was on his. And for a moment, you wondered what it would be like if you kissed him. 

Little did you know, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. 

Then a timer went off. 

“That’ll be the food.” Javi kissed a quick peck to your temple before standing and walking towards the kitchen, leaving your gaze to trail after him. 

“You really do love each other,” your mom pointed out from her spot on the sofa. “I can see why you got married. You both need to tell me what your wedding was like!”

And so you did over dinner. With the added linger of whatever had happened when he’d pulled you closer to him. 

You caught Javi looking at you a few times, and subsequently, he’d caught you, too. And, without rehearsal, you’d both managed to bullshit your way through explaining why you’d both decided to get married so quickly. 

From you and Javi, your mother had learned you’d both met when you started in Columbia and you were both ‘friends’ for a while. Not much had to be lied about in that department. Javi’s reputation. Your “ability” to make every man that asked you out believe you were taken. How you’d worked together for a long time before becoming actual friends. Then the lies started…right?

About how you and Javi made a true friendship of sorts over the late nights working, swapping smaller stories until something changed. 

“It was like…my heart had stopped and rebooted itself. Suddenly, everything felt like it had shifted and changed somehow.” Peña explained to your mom. “Nothing had ever been more…clearer and more daunting than ever.”

Then Javi looked at you, and you found a mirrored expression. Sadness? Confusion? Desperation? Fear? Realisation? You didn’t know what to call it, but whatever it was, you felt it. For some unknown reason, everything he’d just said rang true in your ears, your head and even your heart. 

Nothing had ever been more clearer and more daunting than ever.

By the time your mom decided she was ready for bed, you were already fast asleep against Javi. At some point in the evening when he’d sat beside you, he’d slung his arm behind you and between the warmth and familiarity of him, you’d let yourself truly relax. 

“I’ll walk you up.”

Your mom shook her head as Javi led her towards the door. “I know my way and you’re both tired. I’ll be okay. Get her to bed.”

Javi looked back at you for a moment and smiled.

“You really do love her.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Your mom smiled at her supposed son-in-law. “I understand why she fell for you, but I hope you know, just because you’re the first one of her boyfriends, well, husband now. But just because you’re the first I approve of, doesn’t mean I won’t be judging you. You look after her, and you look after her well. Love her everyday. It’s not every day someone gets to spend the rest of their lives with my daughter. I hope you see that as a privilege.”

Javi nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

Javi was telling the truth and your mom nodded. “Good. And thank you for dinner. Sleep well.”

“You, too, Mrs Y/l/n.”

Javi waited until he heard your apartment door lock before he shut his own, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

His socks padding his footsteps as he walked back to you, he was careful to pick you up before carrying you to bed and covering you up. You were still fast asleep by the time he climbed into bed beside you, but either way, you naturally rolled towards the slight dip in the bed before reaching out for him like you did almost every time he’d carried you to his bed because you’d fallen asleep in his apartment. 

The only times he didn’t was when he fell asleep with you and woke up as the sun peeked through his blinds in his living room. 

With a contented sigh, you slipped into a dreamless sleep beside him and for a few minutes, he laid awake, listening to your breathing. Then he let his mind slip back through the evening. If the funny feeling in his stomach and chest wasn’t what he hoped it was, but rather was what he suspected it to be, then he would have to soak up your actions as a married couple over the next couple of days before everything went back to semi-normal. 

Because if he was right, and he was growing feelings for you, then these days would have to be enough. Your marriage with him and his marriage to you was meant to be for appearances, only. Nothing real was meant to come out of it, was it? 

Because the feeling in his chest as he looked down at you, asleep by his side and in his arms…that feeling sure felt real. 

Waking up in the morning, you felt more comfortable than usual. No creaky mattress spring giving you a sneak attack from beneath your sofa and into your back, no blinding light coming through curtains you’d forgotten to shut, no cold side to your bed as you turned over. 

Instead, you felt warm. You found warmth. 

Asleep on his front but his arm still across you, you found Javi. Fast asleep, seeming as though not even a gunshot would wake him. 

And rather than jump out of bed or rollaway like you usually would when you found yourself in this position with any man, or even him going off the last couple of months. 

You’d found yourself falling asleep countless times at Javi’s and the majority of the time, you woke up in his bed. 

But waking that morning, especially after the night before, had something feeling different. So you took your time. 

For the first time you…studied him. 

You’d found yourself doing it more and more in recent months. How he sat in a chair, the look on his face when he was annoyed, amused, sometimes even scared. 

And for the first time, maybe ever. He looked…

Peaceful. 

As if it was a Sunday morning and neither of you had to get up for work. Like when he’d wake, you’d both spend the morning in bed before relaxing in your home. 

And for a moment, you let yourself dream about that life. A life where there was no fear of maybe never coming home. A life where you could both…be peaceful. Happy. 

Together, maybe?

After a few moments, you felt a gentle touch against your cheek, and slowly opening your eyes, you found Javi’s hand cupping your cheek, his fingers brushing soft patterns into your skin. 

“Cariño…”

You smiled, finding comfort in the common nickname. “Hey.”

“You been awake long?”

You shook your head, softly. “Not long.”

“Good.” Javi then leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here.”

Granting yourself permission to do as he said, Javi rolled over onto his back and pulled you into his side before he decided to ultimately face you. 

Down your back, he traced a singular line back and forth as you both synced calming breaths and listened to the comfortable silence of the room. 

“We could call in sick.” Javi said after ten minutes. “We’ve built up enough time to take the day off. You could show your mom ‘round.”

“We can’t,” you pointed out. “What about the case?”

“The case will still be there tomorrow. And besides, if something changes, they’ll call us in-”

Then you both heard the front door lock open. 

“Javi-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, he sat up and so did you. Quietly, he moved over towards his bedside table and pulled out his gun before checking the bullets. 

You both heard the door open and just as Javi was about to leap out of bed, you both heard your mother’s voice. 

“Y/n? Javier? You two sleepy heads awake yet?!”

You let out a huge sigh of relief and sat back against Javi’s headboard. “Jesus Christ.”

“Your mom has a key?” Javi put his gun back and closed the draw as he looked back at you. 

“I told you. Jessica Fletcher.” Then you called out to her. “Mom! We’re in here.”

Letting out a breath, Javi sat himself back beside you just as your mom walked into your bedroom. “Mom, you can’t just break in,” you told her, tiredly. 

“I didn’t break in. I had a key.”

“Both of us could have shot you.”

Your mom looked over both of you and gave a coy smile. “Then it’s a good thing I called out then. You both look…well rested.”

It was too early to even pretend what she thought had happened, had happened. So, tearing your eyes from Javi, you looked to your mom. “Why are you here?”

“Because I have made breakfast for both of you since Javi cooked us such a wonderful dinner last night.”

“Mrs Y/l/n, you really didn’t-”

“Hush now. I was happy to do it. Now, chop chop.” Your mom clapped her hands. “There’s plenty of time for this,” she gestured to you, Javi and the bed, “later. Come on. Before the day is gone.”

And as she walked out, you felt yourself collapse into Javi’s sheets, already feeling your face go hot. 

“She really doesn’t hold back, does she?”

“No.” Your voice was muffled through the sheets. 

Ultimately, Javi convinced you to take the day off with him and after a homemade breakfast, yet another awkward conversation surrounding love-making in the shower – to which Javi nearly choked on his toast. Both you and Javi had showered (separately) before getting changed and deciding to show your mom around the different places in town. 

And despite the stories shared by your mother; thankfully not all of them made you want a hole in the ground to open up the floor. 

You also found spending the day with Javi, outside of work talk, to be more than pleasurable. With his hand in yours, or his arm around you, holding your own across your stomach, you’d both walked side by side for most of the day. He told your mom some things about Columbia even you didn’t know before, easily sharing some stories of his own childhood when your mom asked. 

And you felt…glad, maybe? Like for the first time since moving to Columbia you were home. And it wasn’t just because your mom was there, but rather because of the person who stuck by your side all day, letting you see behind the personal walls he had up at work. The ones that, if you didn’t look closely, you wouldn’t know were even there. 

Yet, despite the entire day feeling like one giant butterfly in your stomach at every touch, look  and graze you felt from Javi, nothing made it feel like the tornado it was when your mom asked if she could film your ‘first dance’. 

Dinner had been long over and the TV had shut down. In the background, a few different records played until one came on and your mother gasped. 

“Oh, please. Please let me see your first dance. I love this song, and I’ve always imagined seeing you dance to it the way me and your dad do.”

From your side, Javi lifted his hand. It was up to you. 

Looking at your mom’s face, you couldn’t say no. So, you nodded and both stood. Javi started the song from the beginning and turned back to face you. In a matter of moments, you were in his arms, your hand in his whilst your other lay on his arm. You could feel his firm hand at the bottom of your back, holding you up steadily. 

Finally, leaning into each other, you could feel his moustache at the shell of your ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

That was when you found out Javi could dance. At the very least, much better than you could. He led you around the small section of the floor, your temple’s still touching and for a small moment, you closed your eyes. 

You’d also both forgotten anybody else was in the room other than you two. Breathing, heartbeats, pulse, chemistry. It all became one. 

And just as the song slowed, Javi lifted his head to look at you. It was like there was a new light to you in the fading sunlight. New features he’d never noticed before. The small freckles dotted across your face, probably having surfaced after a day in the sun. The soft streaks of baby hairs framing your face. The arch and bow of your cupid’s bow and lips. The light flush in your cheeks as for a moment, he caught your eyes doing the same thing he was. 

Looking. Gazing. Studying. All to commit it to memory. 

Javier Peña, for as best as he’d known, he’d never been so scared in all of his life. But there was one final thing he wanted to commit to memory, whether it be good or bad. And if he didn’t do it then, he was afraid he never would. So, for the first time with you, he did what he wanted to do because, and he hoped, by the look on your face, you wanted it, too. 

With the final few notes of the song, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. It was firm, steady, strong and then softer. The kind of kiss that you feel long after it’s over. Silence washed over the room as the record came to an end and you and Javi found yourselves looking at each other, only realising you weren’t alone when your mom gasped. 

“Oh, that was just beautiful.” She stopped the recording. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”

You and Javi seemed to step away from each other despite it being the last thing either of you wanted to do in that moment. It wasn’t long after that your mom decided to go upstairs to bed. And once Javi heard the door lock upstairs, he locked his own and took a moment before turning back around to find you. 

But you were already trying to avoid the conversation that came next. 

Javi took his time. You both needed a moment to find clarity. After the faucet had been running for a few minutes, only to be switched off by you as you washed the plates in the bowl of soapy water, Javi stood at the kitchen door. 

He watched you for a moment, wondering what to say. What just happened? I’m sorry? He didn’t mean for it to…be that way? Did you feel it, too? Did you want it, too? Did he cross a line?

Then he realised he didn’t have to say anything at all. 

You felt him before you heard him walk slowly across the kitchen floor and stand by your side. With a gentle hand guiding your arm, he spun you to face him and in the silence, your faces shared a thousand words between each other. 

Javi brushed your hair from your face before gently cupping your face. It took enough time between each of his movements to let you object if you wanted to. You stepped closer into him. 

Then he kissed you. 

Having dropped the sponge into the sink, you felt yourself tumble against him as your own hands came to pull him closer towards you. Things seemed to move slightly quicker than before. His hands moving down your body to eventually lift you up and move you onto the counter top, his fingers pushing their way through your hair as your own pulled him in by his collar to kiss you once more. 

With your legs wrapping around his waist, securing him against you, you let out a small sigh behind your kiss. Javi only chased those small noises more after you made your first one. 

“J-Javi.” You managed to find your voice in between his kisses. “Wait.”

He stopped, forcing himself to pull his lips from yours. And for a moment, all you could hear was his breathing and your heartbeat. Both rapid. Both unsteady. 

“We…we shouldn’t…”

His hands still tangled in your hair and his forehead against yours, he shook his head in agreement. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

All either of you could do was breathe. Slowly. Trying to catch some form of air that was at least a close equivalent to the others. 

Kissing you was like a lifeline, and without you he was dying. 

His eyes finally gazing into yours, he found your own tracing his face, already reminiscing on the kiss, wanting more. 

Kissing him was like life was finally being pushed back into your lungs, letting you breathe clearly for the first time and without him, nothing was in focus. 

“Fuck it.”

His lips on yours again, he began to devour you and your taste. He could feel your hands pulling him closer to you, like if you’d let go of him, you’d drown. 

He needed you more than he wanted to admit. 

But you didn’t want him to hold back. So leaning away from his kiss for a moment, you made sure he focused on you. 

“Bedroom.”

He was still drunk on your kiss. “Javi, I’m not fucking you on the kitchen counter. Bedroom.”

His lips curved onto a smirk as he pulled you towards the edge and lifted you up. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you we’re married? Cariño, it’s called making love.”

You laughed and so did he before it was muffled out by another kiss. 

By the time morning rolled around, you found yourself wrapped in Javi’s arms, his scent swirling around your senses, locking it into a memory you’d never forget. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn’t. From the arms wrapped around you, to the soreness in your legs, your body was too happily exhausted to move. 

For the next few moments, you watched as he slept peacefully. His mouth parted slightly, simply looking at his mustache made you blush at the memories from barely a few hours previous. Tracing the curves of his face, you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. 

His arms twitched around you. “Javi, I need to use the bathroom.”

Still half asleep, he returned the next kiss you pressed to his lips before mumbling; “Come back.”

“I will,” you kissed him once more before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom. 

Whilst in the bathroom, you picked up the long forgotten towels on the floor and picked up the tossed body washes and shampoo bottles from Javi and your haphazard entry into the bathroom after the first two orgasms before the third. 

However, you must have taken too long because as you stood at the bathroom skin, a newly familiar pair of arms made their way from holding your hips, to cradling around your waist. 

You could feel the hair from his moustache as he kissed your bare shoulder, making his way towards your neck where you leaned back against his chest and placed a hand behind his own neck to hold you steady. 

“Javi.”

One of his hands slowly made its way under your top before running his fingers from the top of your chest, across your breast and down below the waistband of your shorts. 

“I missed you.” His tongue dampened the graze of his teeth against your neck. 

“Javi.”

“Is this okay, baby?”

You bit your lip, your hips bucking against his fingers, chasing the pressure he was beginning to swirl around your clit. You hummed a response. 

“I need your words, baby. Is this okay? Do you want this? Because I can stop.”

You shook your head quickly and wrapped your hand around his wrist before he pulled away any further. “No. Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say, baby.”

With his fingers circling your clit and his mouth having free range of your neck, you felt your knees grow weak. “Want me to stop?”

Again, you shook your head. “I need…I need more, Javi.”

“How many, baby?”

“Two, ohh…” Your mouth opened and you threw your head back against his shoulder, reveling in his fingers slipping inside your cunt and his thumb applied pressure to your clit. Then you heard him chuckle. 

“Asshole.”

“You fucking love it, baby.”

You did. You really did. It wasn’t long before Javi could feel your walls pulsing against his fingers, growing tighter for him. And his dick hadn’t even left his pants yet. 

“You’re so fucking wet, cariño. This for me?”

You found the strength to nod. “Just for you, Javi baby.”

But whatever strength or control you had left disappeared as the wave began to crash over you and you chased Javi’s fingers as they pumped deeper and faster inside of you. “Ride ‘em, baby. Take what you want.”

You moaned his name, almost chanting it as you came over his fingers. “Fuck,” Javi growled. “You’re so fucking hot when you come.”

Letting out a breathy laugh, you felt the ache in your legs, still leaning against Javi. 

“Then maybe you should do it again.”

Sharing a look with Javi, he smirked before biting down on your bottom lip, then kissing it better. Pulling his fingers from inside of you, he slowly spun you around by your hips until you faced him. Once he’d tasted everything he could from your mouth, he teasingly made his way across your jaw, down the length of your neck, under your clothing before pulling your soaked shorts down your legs, leaving your glistening and sensitive cunt for him to see. 

Then he tasted the rest of you. 

Pushing you onto the edge of the sink counter, you white-knuckled the edges in fear of gripping his hair too tight to pull him closer to where you needed him. 

You could feel the burn of his moustache against your inner thighs, panty-line before finally his tongue circled your already sensitive clit. 

“Fuck, Javi.”

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, “Fuck. Yeah.”

“Want more?”

“Y…yes. Javi, please.” Your hips bucked as you chased the feeling of his tongue licking your pussy. “Fuck, Javi.” You let out a gasp as his tongue dipped inside of you for a moment. “Fuck, right…right there.” With one of your hands tangled in his hair, you pushed him closer in order to taste all of you. 

And just as you leaned back to grant him more access, he pulled back. You whimpered, wanting him back. “Touch yourself.” 

“Javi-”

“I want to see how long you can hold it before I fuck you. Touch yourself.”

So you did. All the while watching him take his sweet time watching you as he pulled down his own underwear and pulled a condom on, pumping himself a couple of times before finally settling closer to you. 

“I want to watch you cum again.” And so he did. 

Filling you with his dick, inch by inch, he felt you stretch around him, swearing as you took him in. And then he took his time with you. Reveling in every needy buck of your hips, chasing his dick before he couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed you just as much as you were begging for him. 

Moaning his name over and over as your orgasm hit you, Javi watched as you came over his dick, him finishing not long after you did. 

Sweaty and covered in sex, Javi pushed the fallen hair from your face and kissed your lips after the silence had settled away from heavy breathing and racing hearts. “We should get cleaned up.”

Pulling his cock from inside of you, he disposed of the condom before walking towards the shower and turning it on. And over the next forty minutes, Javi’s hands were all over your naked body before his fingers tugged at your hair as the tiles of the floor made indents in your knees. By the time you’d both finished, gotten washed and finally dressed, Javi was changing the sheets as you placed the ones from the night before inside his washer. 

For the rest of the day, Javi rarely left your side.

Going back out to the markets with your mom, his hands were constantly finding ways to touch you. His hand pinching onto the skirt of your summer dress, his fingers grazing against your hip and lower back as he changed from standing on one side of you to the other. Holding your hand around you, his arm across your shoulders, his lips in your hair, on the shell of your ear as he talked to you. And when you’d stopped inside a cafe, he sat next to you, his arm across the back of your chair which practically was sitting in between his legs as his body was constantly turned towards you. 

And when you’d both finally gotten home, your mom saying she was going for a nap, the moment Javi’s door shut, the bags were dropped and your back was against the wall of his hallway, his lips on yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.”

“So have I.”

Then a question fell from your lips. “How are we going to keep this up? At work, I mean.”

“They already think we’re married.” He kissed your neck. 

“I’m being serious, Javi.”

“So am I.”

“Javi, Messina already warned us what would happen if she ever caught us. And that was before we were even…”  A couple? Fucking? Dating? Married?

Javi smiled. “So we keep it a secret.”

“Says the guy who can’t keep his hands off me for more than two seconds. You’ll never be able to keep it a secret.”

“Says the woman whose been eye-fucking me all day. Are you sure you can keep a secret?”

“I can keep a secret.” Then Javi noticed your coy smile. “In fact, I’ve been keeping one all day.”

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed his hand to the dip of your hips. He couldn’t feel anything but fabric. Then it hit him. With his chest flaring and his dick hardening, he stepped closer towards you. 

“Mrs Peña…have you been naked under that dress all day?”

You bit your lip. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

His eyes flicking to the hem of your dress, he looked back up at you before slowly dragging the fabric of its skirt up and bunching it in his hand until he could slip his hand under it. And when he was met with bare skin, he swore. 

“Fuck.”

“I’ve been hoping you’d fuck me all day,” you admitted. “I wanted to be ready.”

“Since you walked out of that fucking bedroom in this dress…I’ve wanted to fuck you in it.”

Pulling him closer to you, your voice turned into a low whisper. “Then you better get on with it, Agent Peña. Before I do it myself.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Capturing your lips on his, his finger coaxed at your pussy, already feeling your wetness build for him. As his fingers began to curl inside of you, you let out a moan before your fingers deftly unbuckled his belt and jeans. Javi let out a small whimper as your fingers stroked down his cock, wiping the pre-cum away with your thumb before finally pumping him a few times. 

“Take it easy, baby. Otherwise I’m not gonna- fuck.”

With one hand, Javi picked you up where you stood, his fingers digging into your ass before he guided his tip in. Letting out a moan by his ear, you told him to start moving. 

“Fill me up, baby.” 

And he did. 

Fucking you against the wall in his hallway, Javi pulled the top of your summer dress down and began leaving his mark across your collarbone and down the bow of your breast, all the while his cock pumped in and out of you before filling you up with him cum. 

“That’s it baby,” Javi told you as you screamed his name as you rode his dick. Then he watched you come. He’d never get sick of that sight. It seemed to get hotter each time. You begging him for more, your moans, his name falling from your lips as he makes you unravel completely. 

But he wasn’t done with you yet. Pulling out from you, he moved you both down the hallway and towards the sofa where he made you come again before moving into the kitchen where he finally fucked you senseless on the kitchen counter. 

Both of you wished it could have continued like that forever, but sadly after your shower, both you and Javi were interrupted by the jingle of keys in the door as your mom let herself in before you and Javi could continue your heavy make-out session on the sofa. 

But that was something you both had to get used to. 

Interruptions. 

From people banging on the copier room door thinking it was jammed, to people walking back into the office after their lunch breaks. But despite the ever growing need to constantly be touching him, or him touching you, you’d both found subtler ways to show how much you not only wanted each other, but also needed each other. 

From the smaller touches when he always found an excuse to stand beside you, to the ever longing looks you both gave to each other as the other one walked away from the desks. There were crappy cups of coffee always being poured, lunches being made and shared, blankets being used to cover up the one that fell asleep first, the knowing looks when a case load became too much, the soft moments spent after a long day of work just laying together on the sofa watching crappy TV and falling asleep, dancing to slower records on down-days, quick kisses goodbye during lunch or during a stakeout for cases, jealous and warning glares being given to those who tried to flirt with the other, and finally slow Sunday mornings that were spent inside the apartment, neither of you leaving unless for a dire emergency. 

And somewhere between all of that, you and Javi had taken a flight to your home where your family and his watched as you both swore actual wedding vows to each other; your wedding party not realising it was the first time for both of you. 

Maybe it had taken a while for you both to come together, and maybe it wasn’t the most conventional of get-togethers. But it was yours and Javi’s story. One that, the more you thought about it, started off with those softer moments. One that always had, and always would, contain those smaller touches and simple gestures. 

[beloveds-embrace]

╰┈➤ A Harbinger’s Claim: Part Two

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest, yandere capitano, captivity

Capitano brings you back “home”. It is a somber affair.

Part One

The journey to Snezhnaya is silent, except for the sound of Capitano’s heavy, armored footsteps against the frozen ground. Snow falls around you in a never-ending flurry, swirling like ghosts of a past you can no longer grasp. You don’t know how long you’ve been in his arms, cradled against his chest as he carries you away from the battlefield where you’d spent what felt like centuries lost to time. Your body is numb, not just from the cold, but from the heavy weight of resignation settling in your bones.

Capitano moves with purpose, his grip firm and unyielding, as though afraid you might slip away if he loosens his hold. But you’re too tired to run, even if you wanted to. Instead, you rest your head against his chestplate, your thoughts drifting like the snow of Snezhnaya.

By the time you reach his mansion, a grand, imposing structure buried deep within the frozen wilderness, the numbness has fully set in. The gates creak open, welcoming you to your new prison. You don’t bother looking around, too weary to take in the sheer magnitude of the place. The icy chill seeps into the walls, but even that feels muted, all your senses dulled. You’re aware of Capitano’s presence at your side, ever-watchful, as though he’s afraid you might disappear. His grip remains just as tight even if he doesn’t hurt you.

Inside, the mansion is dark and vast, but not cold. Maids silently scurry about, and you have no doubt that there are other servants working in hiding. Everything is shrouded in an eerie stillness, much like the man who now claims you as his own. He sets you down gently on a plush, dark velvet couch in front of a roaring fire. The warmth should be comforting, but you feel… nothing.

“Rest.” he commands softly, his deep voice cutting through the silence. You barely register his words, your eyes already fluttering shut as exhaustion pulls you under.

When you wake, it’s to the sensation of silk blankets wrapped around you, the warmth of the fire licking at your skin. For a moment, you forget where you are. But then you hear him- Capitano’s voice, low and steady- speaking to someone just outside the room. The tone is commanding, as always, and it makes your stomach churn. There is truly no escape, is there? Though you are a shadow of who you once were, he still remains a pillar of strength.

You force yourself to sit up, the weight of the ring on your finger reminding you of the binding promise he made..

Before you can fully gather your thoughts, Capitano enters the room. He looms in the doorway, his masked face unreadable, yet his presence unmistakable. His gaze locks onto you, and the intensity of it sends a chill down your spine.

“You’re awake,” he states, his voice unnervingly calm. He moves closer, his heavy boots echoing in the vast, empty space. He crouches in front of you, his gloved hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture, though gentle, feels like a claim, a reminder that you are his now.

“I can’t stay here,” you whisper, though your voice lacks any conviction. “I can’t be what you want me to be, Capitano.”

Capitano’s hand pauses, his head tilting slightly as he regards you. “You will learn,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve spent centuries suffering alone. You belong with me now. I will ensure you are cared for.”

You pull the blanket tighter around you, the fire doing little to chase away the coldness settling in your chest. You are only thankful that your legs don’t ache at the moment, soothed by the warmth. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” you say, your voice hoarse. “I’ve been doing it on my own for a long time.”

His masked face looms closer, his breath ghosting through the slits of his helm. “You’ve barely survived,” he counters, his voice quiet but resolute. “I’ve watched you struggle. Your devotion to me never waned, even in your darkest moments, even when Khaenri’ah fell. Now, it’s my turn to give you purpose.”

You shake your head, exhaustion clawing at your mind. “I don’t need a purpose anymore. I just want peace.”

Capitano rises to his full height, towering over you as his gaze bores into yours. “Peace will come with time. You are mine now, and I will not let you waste away.”

He turns, motioning toward the doorway. “This mansion is your home now. Every corner, every room- none of it is off-limits to you. But know this: you will never leave here without me. Your place is with me, as it always was.”

A cold dread settles deep in your gut, and yet… there’s a strange comfort in his words. After so long being alone, aimless, the thought of someone- of him- taking control is almost tempting. Almost.

“I won’t fight you,” you say softly, back to staring down at the ring on your finger. Your mind whispers of hearing him call you wife when you were asleep, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever be yours in the way you want.”

But he doesn’t give you the chance for ignorance.

Capitano’s hand hovers over your shoulder for a moment, before settling there, his grip firm but not harsh. It trails ever so slightly until he is cupping your jaw. “That will come with time,” he says, his voice like a quiet vow. “You will learn to love me again. I am a patient man, especially for you, wife.”

Capitano slowly takes off his mask, and though your heart twinges painfully upon seeing what the curse has done to his appearance, you don’t flinch away.

As he leans closer, you feel his breath against your skin, warm and heavy. He hesitates for a moment, and in that pause, you see something in his gaze- a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in the unyielding facade he wears so proudly. Then, his gloved hand threads through your hair, holding you gently yet possessively, as if afraid you might slip away.

Capitano leans down and places a tender kiss on your forehead, a soft contrast to the coldness of his armor. The gesture catches you off guard, stirring emotions you thought long buried. It’s a small break in his resolve, a glimpse of the longing he’s carried for so long.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs, voice low and heavy with unspoken truths. His hand holds up strands of your hair, and he kisses those, too. “You’re finally here, and I won’t let you go again.”

His words settle around you like a warm embrace, igniting a flicker of something within you- hope, perhaps, or maybe something more dangerous. In that moment, you understand that despite the chains that bind you, he too has been trapped by the weight of what he’s always desired: you. And as his lips linger near your hair, a fragile connection begins to form, one that blurs the lines between captivity and care.

(Escape… seems truly so far away from your reach. You feel breathless.)

[sultrysparkles]

he hates you.

well actually- he doesn't. he loves you. he loves every single bit of you. whether it'd be the sweet laughter coming from your glossy lips. or the heart warming smile that makes his heart melt and his body feel all fuzzy and ecstatic.

but he also hates you. so fucking much. because what right did you have batting those pretty eyelashes at him? the faux innocence gleaming in your eyes. oh how he wishes he could rip that same innocent look right from your pretty little eyes, to turn you into his dirty little whore.

or how you accidentally dropped your phone on the floor at the restaurant. and bent all the way over to pick it up. although to you, that moment lasted for a mere couple of moments, to him though. the sight of your new red pretty panties being revealed to him would play in his mind over and over again.

he couldn't stand you. he hated your guts. not because of your personality. no- he found it endearing on how perfect you were both on the inside and outside. it wasn't how much you talked either, he loved hearing your angelic voice ramble on and on about the most silliest things. but he can't promise he was listening though. he was too busy imaging your voice doing much more than talking.

it was none of the above. it was actually the way you made him feel. now he doesn't mean the times when you'd be the only one to listen to him, the only one who put effort into listening and comforting him about his issues. neither was it the electricity that would shoot through his veins whenever you would give him a simple hug.

he hated how hard you made his cock. simply because he knows he shouldn't.

it pissed him off knowing that no matter what he did, that every night he'd be up late, laying in his messy bed. blinds shut, and door closed and locked. everything was dark in his room and the sound of the fan running filled the empty silence.

except there was no silence. how could there be? because alongside the sound of the fan spinning, there would be the sound of his fist angrily pumping his cock.

his eyes would be shut tightly too, leaning against his headboard as the thoughts of your new red lacy underwear were revealed to him a couple hours ago. was it wrong of him to know they were new? he didn't care right now though.

he didn't care about how morally wrong this all was. he knew he shouldn't be thinking about you in such lewd ways, but then again. it wasn't his fault? no. you knew what you were doing today.

at least that is what he's telling himself right now, as his hand rapidly slides up and down his shaft. the wet sounds now add to noises in his room, his shallow and breathy groans were barely audible too.

he wished it was your sweet slick walls though. he wishes you'd let him plunge into your cunt, to let him have his way with you. but instead it's his rough hands that tease his reddened tip.

gosh you were so so so stupid.

because now you have him thrusting up into his fist. the trembling orgasm approaching him quickly. now his room is loud. a hand over his mouth to muffle the pathetic whiney moans that leave his lips. although the muffling barely had an effect.

thighs trembling uncontrollably and his eyes are shut so tight nothing even feels real anymore. and soon enough it hits him. a loud unholy moan is all there is to be heard as the pacing of his fists come to a stop. his whole body twitches from the sudden rip of pleasure flooding all his senses.

tears even trickle on his waterline and his breathing becomes heavy and unstable. not to mention all the long sticky cream colored ropes then escape from his angry base. they land onto his upper thighs and abdomen. he sits there for a couple moments as he comes down from his high.

now he really wishes you were here.

so you could come clean the mess that you made.

SHIGARAKI, kirishima, IZUKU, gojo, tamaki, denki, chuuya, zenitsu, megumi, choso, REINER, armin, EREN, jean + ur favs

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part two

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

─────────────────────────

It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.

You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.

On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.

Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.

The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.

Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.

Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.

“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.

You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.

Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.

You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.

He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.

A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.

Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.

“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”

An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.

You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.

Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.

Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.

─

The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.

Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.

He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.

Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.

A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.

“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.

“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible

Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.

Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.

Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.

Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.

“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.

“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.

“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.

Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.

a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”

“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.

They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.

─

You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.

As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.

“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.

Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.

Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3

[lovelyghst]

simon riley with a virgin!gf would be such a sweet, softhearted bully. always making an effort to be so gentle with you, never pressuring you past a prolonged kiss or some touches between layers of fabric, only to turn around and relentlessly tease you in passing.

simon riley and his addiction to subtly dragging a hand up your thigh when you're in public, whispering sexual remarks in your ear to get you all hot and flustered at the worst of times.

simon riley thought the reason he worked you up so much and so often was to get you begging for it, but was proven terribly wrong when he finally broke through your reserve and even he couldn't believe the words that came so surely from his mouth.

"not yet, baby. wanna make sure you're ready for me when the time comes, otherwise you’ll end up hurtin’ yourself."

simon riley adores watching you touch yourself. whether it be from right by your side as he guides you along, or from the entrance to your bedroom as you missed his texts telling you he’d be home early. he just loves to see you struggling to finish, getting all frustrated and embarrassed when you can’t do it yourself, prompting him to reassure you that everything’s alright before he’s taking over.

simon riley allows you to use his thigh or abs to get off only when you really need it badly, which you'll need to be in tears to prove most often. it's cruel, maybe, but reticence is necessary.

simon riley will urge you on as you rub your clothed cunt against his flexed muscles, even grabbing your hips to help you finish when you lose energy and begin to slow your movements. laughs when he bounces his leg to make you lose balance and yelp, but pouts in sympathy when you whine 'cause he ruined your high.

simon riley never lets you use his crotch to get off, though, as he can't promise his own restraint after a certain amount of your whines. it's the only time the soldier feels grossly weak, and you could never seem to figure out why it’d be such a bad thing.

simon riley gives you his mouth at most, and that's only after weeks of your pining and pleading for the next step. he just had to taste you before he went mad, but nothing more. he adores your innocence far too much to take it away it so soon.

the first time simon riley eats you out is nothing short of a warm mess. he tries to take his time—and he did, bringing out every word of praise in his vocabulary as you gradually got more comfortable—but once he started with the real thing, he couldn't hold himself back.

his thick and hot tongue laps at your pussy as his eyes quickly turn dazed, big inked arms wrapped around your soft thighs to hold your sensitive frame down. you can't tell that he's just slightly grinding himself down on the bed since you're instantly entranced in watching him show you what you've been missing out on for so long.

you don't notice how severely his cock strains in his pants with your mind only able to focus on the knot in your stomach, and how pretty he looks with a slick-covered stubble and drunken smirk. he makes you come on his tongue once before the moment is quickly cut short, your blissful whimpers and raw taste driving him to mutter a sharp swear under his breath and abandon you for the restroom.

you're left on the bed alone, distraught and worried you'd done something wrong, completely unaware to the fact he's fisting his cock with gritted teeth and an unruly pace only a door away.

heavy breathing filling the space, his mind running on all the possibilities for how he could just take you right now, apologize for everything. christ, he should just give you what you want and his poor cock throbs at the prospect, but what kind of man would he be?

he bites his tongue, muffles his groans, and spills himself in his palm with clenched eyelids and fists. absolutely shameful, but bound to happen. you hear the sink run for a moment before he's returning without a single trace or reason for his disappearance. he reads the guilt on your face and soothes you with a kiss to the forehead.

"sorry for the wait, lovie. wasn't very fair of me to leave you like this, now, was it?" and you can only shake your head, tears spilling over.

and finally, simon riley with a virgin!gf who will spend the rest of his day making things up to you: resuming his services with a newfound patience, showing you all the best ways to touch yourself for when he's not there- or for when he is there, because as he reminds you often, he won't be able to take his sweet girl's virginity for a long, long time. for your own sake, of course <3

[goldfades]

pregnancy scares with luke hughes🤞🤞🤞 he would def be freaking out but it ends up being nothing!!!

you’re pretty sure luke hasn’t sat down for more than five seconds in the last hour. he’s pacing the length of the living room, one hand in his hair, the other holding his phone like he’s waiting for some kind of emergency alert to come through. it would almost be funny if you weren’t equally as on edge.

the unopened pregnancy test sits on the counter where you left it, staring at you like it knows you’re avoiding it. you don’t even have the energy to glare back at it—your nerves are too frayed. instead, you watch luke from your spot on the couch, clutching a throw pillow to your chest like it’s some kind of lifeline.

“what if it’s positive?” he blurts out suddenly, stopping in his tracks to look at you, his blue eyes wide with panic. “like… what do we even do? do we call someone? your mom? my mom? oh god, my mom.”

“luke,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm even though your heart is pounding like a drum. “we don’t even know yet. let’s not jump to conclusions.”

he stares at you for a moment, then runs a hand down his face. “right. yeah. no conclusions. totally chill over here.”

you raise an eyebrow at him, and he lets out a nervous laugh, sinking down onto the arm of the couch. it doesn’t last long—he’s back on his feet within seconds, muttering something about how his brain feels like it’s short-circuiting.

“okay, but seriously,” he says, turning back to you, his hands flailing slightly in that way they do when he’s overwhelmed. “what if it’s real? like, what if we’re—what if you’re—”

“pregnant?” you finish for him, your voice quieter this time. the word hangs in the air between you, heavy and uncertain.

he nods, his expression softening as he looks at you. “yeah. that.”

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “then we figure it out. together.”

“together,” he repeats, like he’s testing the word out. he nods again, a little firmer this time, and for a second, it almost looks like he’s calming down.

and then he notices the test on the counter. “okay, no, i can’t do this anymore,” he says, running a hand through his hair again. “you have to take it. right now. i’m dying over here.”

“you’re dying?” you ask, a hint of exasperation creeping into your tone. “i’m the one who might be pregnant, luke.”

“exactly!” he says, throwing his arms out dramatically. “which is why we need to know, like, immediately.”

you roll your eyes but head toward the bathroom anyway, grabbing the test as you go. “you’re not allowed to say a word until i’m done,” you warn, and luke holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“not a word,” he promises, but the second the door closes behind you, you hear him mutter to himself, “a baby, though… that’d be kinda wild.”

you groan, trying to block him out as you do what the test requires, but by the time you’re done and waiting for the results, you can hear him outside the door, talking to himself at full speed.

“like, obviously, i’d teach them how to skate,” he says, his voice muffled but clear enough to make you laugh quietly to yourself. “they’d have to start early—i mean, that’s the key, right? i was skating at, what, three? two? can kids even walk at two?”

you open the door and lean against the frame, test still in your hand, watching as he paces the living room like he’s coaching his imaginary future kid through a big game. he doesn’t notice you right away, too caught up in his rambling.

“and names,” he continues, gesturing animatedly. “if it’s a boy, we could name him something strong, like—i don’t know, jack junior or something. no, wait, that’s awful. maybe something cool like—like hunter! or brody! oh my god, i’d totally have a brody.”

you clear your throat, and luke freezes mid-gesture, spinning to look at you like a kid caught stealing cookies. “uh, hi,” he says, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “how’d it go?”

“it’s still processing,” you say, holding up the test. “but, uh, sounds like you’ve been busy.”

his cheeks flush a deep red, but he grins, unabashed. “okay, but hear me out—if it’s a girl, we name her something badass. like, she could totally pull off a name like harper. or sutton. sutton hughes. tell me that doesn’t sound like a star.”

you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. “you’re already planning their whole life, and we don’t even know if there’s a them yet.”

“well, yeah,” he says, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh. “i mean, it’s kinda fun to think about, you know? like, little hockey practices, bringing them to the rink, teaching them how to chirp jack in the most creative way possible…”

you sit beside him, the test now lying face down on the coffee table, its results still unknown. “you’d be a good dad,” you say softly, watching as his grin softens into something a little more genuine.

“you think so?” he asks, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

“yeah,” you reply. “a chaotic one, maybe. but a good one.”

before he can respond, the timer on your phone goes off, signaling the test is ready. both of you freeze, the moment suddenly much heavier than the lighthearted banter that preceded it.

“you wanna look, or should i?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

luke swallows hard, then gestures toward you. “you. i’ll just—” he flops back dramatically against the couch cushions. “—be over here, dying inside.”

with a nervous laugh, you reach for the test, flipping it over. your eyes scan the result, and your shoulders sag with relief. “negative,” you say, holding it up for him to see.

luke lets out the loudest, most exaggerated exhale you’ve ever heard, his head falling back against the couch. “oh, thank god,” he says, a hand over his heart like he just avoided a near-death experience.

you laugh, watching as he sits up, still a little wide-eyed. “i thought you were ready to start a hockey dynasty,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

“oh, don’t get me wrong,” he says with a grin. “i’m glad it’s not happening now, but, like… someday? sutton hughes is definitely gonna rule the world.”

you roll your eyes, laughing as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, but there’s no real bite to it.

“and you love me for it,” he quips, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you don’t reply, but the smile on your face says enough.

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