#slim pickins this year

[mimicmerchant]

Sneaking in with the year in review

[jlf23tumble]

Nah I'm team no transplant. His hairline always looks different based on how he styles his hair. He pulls it forward and it gets rid of the M. The thickness is the same as it was.

I respectfully disagree, ma'am or sir!

[thinkinonsense]

i just listened to sabrina's new album and oh my god the song slim pickins is such a song that was written from daydreaming about lumberjack!logan, oh and the recent fic that you reblogged was just so yummy and perfect for that song especially the lyrics "a boy who's jacked and nice" like god having to settle down for less because nobody can be him 😭😭😭 need him expeditiously im afraid

it's slim pickins

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: yearning!! fluff, tiny nsfw conversation (nothing graphic)

a/n: this request couldn't have come in at a better time because i'm seeing sabrina on opening night of her tour tomorrow night!! <3

masterlist

"am i just destined to be alone forever?"

another friday night in the hole in the wall bar outside of town. another date gone horribly wrong. your question hangs heavy in the air as you gossip to your best friend who's bartending tonight.

"you keep picking douche bags." she answers without missing a beat.

"well, that's fuckin' rude." you slur slightly, sipping on your third fruity drink tonight.

"well, it's fuckin' true." she smiles, looking over your shoulder at a group of men that walked in. "why don't you go talk to one of them? they look hot."

you spin around in your stool to see a group of lumberjack workers. these were the men that you worked with, you can't flirt with them.

"i work with those guys!" you hiss.

"sooo...?" she smirks.

both of you quickly end the conversation with the five guys approach the bar. the last thing you needed was for these guys to see the desperate and pathetic look on your face. quickly, you rummage through your purse for some cash to put down.

"what are you doing here, doll face?" a familiar voice asks.

you look up and see the most handsome of the men, in front of you; logan. twice your size, buff, toned, tan... god, you had such a crush on him. never in a million years would you go after him though, he's too good to want a girl like you. you were just a friend. he make small talk with you, laughed at your jokes, calls you little nicknames, and refills the coffee pot for you but thats what friends do, right?

"oh... um, i'm just-"

"she's been sitting here moaning and bitching to me all night about her horrible date." your best friend smiles then introduces herself to logan with a handshake.

"thanks asshole." you mumble under your breath at her, making logan chuckle.

"tough night?" he asks, looking down at you in a way that makes heat rises up your face.

"kinda, but i'll save you all the gory details." you admit, sliding off the tall stool a little ungracefully. "have a good night, logan."

"wait, doll face." he says, grabbing your arm to balance you. "wanna talk about it? i'm sure your friend here is busy."

the alcohol let him take you to one of the booths. all the other men noticed logan and you sitting together, definitely making mental notes to tease you both on monday.

"so, what's on your mind?" logan asks, taking a swig of his beer.

"it's nothing really..." your mouth says one thing but your phone says another; practically buzzing off the table.

"you sure?" he raises a brow.

"uh... yeah?" you sound confused as you peak at the notification. an annoyed groan falls from your lips as you slam the phone back down and sink into the booth. "why? why? why?"

"why what?" he squints.

"be honest, do i have dumbass written on my forehead?" you sigh, hazily looking over at logan. the question threw him off guard; unsure if you're joking or not.

"no." he answers.

" well, i sure feel like one. every guy i've gone out with is either the most obnoxious asshole i've ever met who's still hung up on his ex or he's absolutely perfect but he's just not ready for a commitment right now? what the fuck does that even mean?"

all of your drunk rambling surprised logan. at work, he's only seen your shy personality as you scribble down numbers and log them into spreadsheets. this was a completely different side of you.

"i know what you're thinking, 'why not just try dating a woman?'. well, i fucking would if this town wasn't stuck in the 50's, except the men aren't going to war in order to get away from you, instead they just run back in between their ex's thighs and pull that 'it's not you, it's me' bullshit."

it was getting harder for logan not to crack at your silly yet, adorable expressions as you rant.

"and the worst part is that they can't even get a woman to orgasm." you say a little quieter. logan stores that quote in his pocket for another time. "a few weeks ago, i literally had a man in my bed who didn't know the difference between their, there, and they're! i don't know who's stupider, him for not knowing or me for letting him give me the worst head in my life."

if you were even a little sober, this would be mortifying. sitting in front of your work crush and spilling pathetic details of your love life to him. if you were even a little sober, you would have notice his eyes turn dark and lustful under the dim bar lighting. logan couldn’t fathom that you were having trouble in your love life.

"sounds like it's slim pickins out there."

"you have no idea." you sigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, i don't think that you're stupid."

"you're just saying that to be polite. trust me, everyone thinks i'm an idiot for taking these guys back every time. im just like my mom, my sisters, my friends, and every other girl i know. we make up excuses for their shitty behavior because we are afraid to be alone."

logan could see tears forming in your waterline, about to roll down your cheek. it hurt him to see you so heartbroken over these losers. everyday at work, you came in like a ray of fucking sunshine. you didn't deserve to be treated like this.

"it's not your fault that those asshole don't know how to treat a woman." he sighs, leaning forward in an attempt to comfort you.

"i know, i know..." your voice was cracking and you didn't want logan to see you so vulnerable. suddenly, you rise from the booth. "thanks for listening, logan."

"where do you think you're going, doll face?" he asks, following you out the door.

"should head home." you mumble, pulling up the number of a car service about twenty minutes out.

"let me give you a ride home." he offers. "you've been drinking too much."

it's late, you're exhausted and heartbroken so, you let him help you into his truck. it's kinda old but full of character, like logan.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours?" logan asks, breaking the silence in the car. "still sad?"

you shrug. "think i'm just going to become a nun."

he tried, he really did, but he had to laugh.

"sweetheart, there's no need to become a nun."

"well, i'm never going to find the man i'm looking for so, might as well join the sisterhood."

"what are you looking for in this dream man?"

logan's question has your eyes wondering over to where his left hand sets on the wheel and his right on thigh. the images of what his hands could do flood your fuzzy mind.

"j-just a good guy who's um, who's kind, jacked... respectful, good with his hands...."

it was shameless, your staring that is. logan worried you might get drool on the car seat, not that he would mind.

"hm... those seem like simple requirements there."

"apparently not." you giggle. "it's fine, though. i'm sure the nuns will be friendly."

"still thinking about joining the 'sisterhood'?" he asks, pulling up to your drive way.

"maybe... i'll give it twenty-four hours and if he doesn't come knocking on my door, i'll just buy a chasity belt and go off the grid with the nuns." your smile warmed his cold bitter heart. "thanks for the ride, lo. i'll see you monday."

as logan watches you fumble with your keys and make your way inside, he fights an internal battle over his feelings. he has had a crush on you since the day the two of you first met. by the end of the week, you had baked him some cupcakes, babbling about how you do this for all the new employees, which was far from the truth he later learned.

you captured his heart. even when he tried to burry his feelings for you, when logan looked at you, his world stood still for a moment. he looked forward to all your silly jokes in the break room or the ridiculous gossip you would tell him when he lingered outside of your office door. he couldn't let you slip away into the arms of another asshole who didn't deserve you.

before logan could comprehend what he was doing, his feet lead him up to your door, knocking twice. the wooden door opened and he knew he made the right decision.

there you were in your light blue and grey plaid pajamas with a cupcake in your hand and vanilla frosting on your bottom lip. logan had never seen you look prettier.

"hey? did i leave something in the–"

in the blink of an eye, logan’s hands reach up to caress your jaw, leaning in until his mouth engulfs yours. the taste of vanilla and alcohol surrounded both of you. forgetting the cupcake in your hand, dropping it to reach up and pull logan closer. kissing him was like drinking a glass of wine after a long day. no more stress or anxiety over anyone else’s bullshit. the two of you gasp against each others lips, catching your breath.

“i could be the good guy, you know?” logan pants, now forever addicted to your taste. “i could be the good guy for you.”

your heart fluttered as you stared up at his pretty hazel eyes, twirling a piece of his hair around your finger. this had to be a very realistic dream, thats the only answer to this.

“you would do that for me, logan?” your delicate voice could bring him to his knees, worshiping the ground you walk on.

“i would do anything for you, honey.” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you again. maybe your dream guy wasn't as far away as you thought?

[ivysprophecy]

slim pickins

warnings; bad date? mentions of sex, cursing underage drinking and yes i meant for it to be written poorly i was trying to keep the humor of the album in the writing

masterlist | p. 2

no pressure tags; @murdockcastleslut @kimoralov3 @arkofblake

word count; 1911

summary; youre tired of not finding a decent guy who will treat you right and lay you right. at least not one you've known since you were kids. however you just cant help yourself. besides its slim pickins out here you take what you can get.

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

i wanna make one thing clear, when i say there are no good guys left i do not wanna hear about you and your boyfriend of three years that can cook and loves your mom.

thats exactly what im talking about maddie!!! i dont give two fucks that he took you to barnes and noble and bought you every book you wanted.

they are all taken. its plain and simple.

which is why even with a full roster, im stuck taking fucking zander, yes with a z, to my friends' kegger.

i mean yea hes cute. hes tall, built but not that gross kind of muscly. but if were being real i shouldve known better when he was joking about being a male stripper when hes a ginger.

and i can tell kie is judging me, rightfully so. her side eye is lethal. when i introduced him to everyone she asked him about his greta van fleet tee and he said he didn't even know it was a band.

needless to say pope had to drag her away.

after that incident i decided it was best if we tried to talk away from the rest of the group. boy was i wrong.

"so what do you like to drink? ill go grab us something," i offer trying to start the conversation, also avoiding the usual problem with taking a drink from men.

"im good with whatever"

i like to think im not a violent person, but im about to be.

"does a beer sound okay?" i ask him grabbing a twisted tea for me from the cooler.

"sure thing." god why is he acting like such a bitch? i should ask him if he's on his period.

i hand him the can, our fingers brush and its my final clue for the night that i am definitely not going home with him. no spark at all. hes done just about everything else to piss me off.

he did the thing where he licks his lips exaggeratingly looking me up and down, making a point to make sure i saw.

he walks so slow for being 6'3.

and finally he tried to mansplain my career to me. i'd had just enough when he opens his mouth again

"ew, you like twisted tea? who likes sweet tea?" his face contorted in disgust, it was about to contort from my fist breaking his goddamn nose if he keeps talking to me like this.

"we literally live in the south dude." my face could not make it any clearer i am so done with this guy.

"still, sweet tea is disgusting. im not kissing anyone that drinks that nasty shit."

"who said i wanted to kiss your nasty fucking mou-" i was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar giggle behind me as his arm wrapped around my shoulder, the smell of his deodorant and sea salt that cover his skin start to put you at ease.

jj was always there when you needed him, sometimes even when you didnt but right now you couldn't be more grateful. "im glad you found those mama i got em just for you. remembered theyre your favorite. right?"

and you wanna know the best part? zander is shaking already pissed off that jj is at my side. territorial i guess.

"you mind?" he asks him nodding his head at me like im not even there.

jj cant help but laugh at him "yea bud i do mind. she's hanging out with me tonight. have fun with your ipa dick." and with that he steers us off to where the rest of the pogues are.

but not before i can look over my shoulder and give the ginger an innocent smile and a shrug as if i had no control over the situation, when really id pick jj over anyone else.

"you owe me a big fat kiss mama," jj whispers in my ear walking us over to where our friends are standing, drinks in their hands laughing and chatting up a storm.

"in your dreams honey."

"every night all night," he quips back before i shove him off me.

now before you give me shit, jj and i have had our fair share of fun, but unfortunately im starting to look for something more serious.

watching john b and sarah be disgusting together is getting to my head. popes got something going on with cleo and im starting to recognize the pattern. and before i know it everyone will be in love if i don't start making an effort in that department.

random casual hook ups aren't doing it anymore, especially considering they aren't even that good.

unless theyre with jj.

but hes not an option, theres too much drama. too much history. too much too much too much. im not what he needs and i know for a fact he doesn't want me in that sense.

is that a bit dramatic? probably.

i mean hes a great lay, he's hilarious, he's got that blue collar kind of muscle, and he genuinely cares about me.

so of course im not going to date him, why would i?

what do you mean make good decisions? id rather do things in the most difficult way possible!

"y/n youve gotta stop giving those guys a chance, im starting to feel bad for you."

"you try finding a decent guy in a ten mile radius." i glare at him, obviously not wanting to joke about this right now.

he sticks his hand out in front of me, "fine i will. let me see your phone."

curious to see what he will do i hand it too him unlocked, he swipes and taps for a few moments, smiling down at the phone before handing it back to you.

when you look back down at the screen all you see is your instagram open with his stupid fucking smiley face on the screen.

he took a picture of himself and posted to my story. written on the screen in bubble letters in my favorite colored heart 'my favorite guy <3'

"i think he's your best bet." that same smile facing back at me now, cockier than ever. so smug i wanna kiss it off his face

i cant help but roll my eyes. "jj im serious! at this rate im going to die alone. every decent guy is taken or unavailable. all i want is someone funny, kind, and attractive is that too much to ask for?"

"im right in front of you mama you dont gotta look far."

"jj we both know we're not the serious kind of relationship im talking about."

"you can think what you want too but ill be here waiting for that kiss you owe me."

"i think all that tequila youve been sipping has gone to your head maybank."

he stands in front of me, taking his signature red cap off his head and putting it on mine smiling down at me, "what do they say in those books you read? you wear the hat you ride the cowboy?"

"this no ten gallon hat and you are no cowboy."

we laugh at each other, its always been easier to do that then actually talk about our feelings. so i put his hat back on his head, backwards the way he i likes it.

"cmon y/n/n, have a few more drinks, relax and hang out and ill make you feel all better later yea? its what im best at, you know."

"its gonna take more than a few more teas to convince me jj"

"what about that thing you like that i do with my tongue, huh mama? doesnt that sound pretty good right now? i think it does."

"i give you one fucking compliment and it goes straight to your head."

"technically its about my head so that makes perfect sense," he hands me another can with that stupid signature smirk of his and his stupid sexy hat backwards. i hate to admit it's working on me.

just like it does every other time.

i squint my eyes at him taking the can, rolling the idea around in my head. "fuck it. its not like anyone else is offering," i take a big sip of my drink.

jj pumps his fist in the air like a victorious idiot giving a few woots and hollars before picking me up and throwing me over his shoulder despite my wishes.

"jb!!" he shouts turning around to face him, "we're headed out!"

john b looks at the two of us shaking his head at how im kicking my feet to wiggle out of jjs oddly strong grip. "make sure you change the sheets when youre done!"

oh my god he did not just say that. "fuck both of you!"

jj just laughs carrying you back to the chateau like a kid who's excited to use a brand new birthday present.

"what happened to letting me have a few more drinks before we left??"

"youre just too irresistable mama, gotta have you now,' he gives my ass a light slap for good measure causing me to roll my eyes for the 600th time tonight.

"are you gonna put me down now?"

he pretends to look like hes thinking about it, "i guess. only so i can watch you walk away," he does as he says helping me get my feet on the ground.

"youre a pervert."

"no im flirtatious, and you love it, you know it makes you blush i see it. now go on and give me a lil walk yea?"

oh im gonna kill him...

oh wait! im gonna kill him!

"okay... fine. but no touching until we get home," i smile walking away exactly like he asked, but i know behind me he is a puddle of mud. standing still, about to start begging me to let him.

he finally catches up after a few seconds "mama please- cmon thats not fair. you look too good in those shorts you know i cant wait that long. just wanna feel you."

i cant help but giggle at his words, its honestly adorable how mopey he gets. like i just kicked his puppy or something.

"hands of jj i mean it... not until that door shuts behind us."

it didn't really matter that i can see the chateau or that ill be there in literally a minute.

its actually painful for jj to not be able to touch me as he pleases.

i turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. "you want me maybank?"

and of course he nods so hard it looks like his head is going to fall right off.

"come and get me," running towards the house, i can see the moment when his reflexes kick in, his boots thudding against the ground as he gains on me.

just before i can make it to the poarch jj wraps his arms around me, lifting me a few inches off the ground and spinning me around in a fit of laughter.

"okay! okay okay okay you win- you got me."

"oh ive got you mama, and im havin you for the rest of the fucking night," he presses a kiss to my neck hauling me inside, the screen door slamming shut after us.

am i gonna regret this tomorrow? most likely.

but what can i say? its slim pickins in this part of town.

[gracieheartspedro]

More Than Friends

how to help the Palestinian people

pairing: best friend!ellie williams x fem!reader (set in the jackson era)

description: you and ellie have been friends for awhile. while at a party for tommy’s birthday, you try to catch the attention of your crushes. sadly, they are all over each other. in a childish effort to get them to pay attention, you two try to make them jealous. 'cause that always ends the way you think, right?

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, smut, wlw, f!receiving oral (reader), fingering, jealousy, semi-public sex, dirty talk, tons of nicknames, no mentions of reader's appearance. talks of sexuality, but it's vague. reader wants to fuck whoever, it doesn't matter lol. let me know if I missed anything!

author's note: I wrote this after watching one too many ellie edits on tik tok. it was written in two hours, so it's not my finest work but it scratched my little ellie itch. okay, much love xoxoxoxxo

“So… you really like Dina, huh?”

Her face twists immediately at the question. She throws herself back in the wooden chair, cursing under her breath. Her arms cross over her chest, her t-shirt riding up a bit above her jeans. 

You saw the way Ellie looked at Dina. She looks at her like she hung the moon. She was always fumbling over her words around her, nervous to say the wrong thing. When she did try to flirt, it came up awkward and strained. And you understood her predicament because you were the same way about Jesse. 

You both were pining after two people in a committed relationship.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” She mumbles, gesturing towards the center of the room where Dina and Jesse slow danced. He was leaning down to whisper something in her ear and it made your stomach flip. “She would never go for me.”

You felt bad for Ellie. She was everything you wished you were yourself; beautiful and funny. You felt like you were the only one, besides the Millers, who got her dry humor. You two had met in class about two years ago, now. You were a newcomer to Jackson, arriving about two months prior with your mom. When you got seated next to Ellie, you could tell her give-no-fucks attitude would mesh well with your give-too-many-fucks attitude. Over the years, you two had really rubbed off one another. You two were inseparable. 

“You’re the whole package, Els,” You say before nudging her shoulder with your elbow. You two are moping at a table near the exit of the food hall. It was Tommy’s birthday celebration, so everyone in Jackson got together to plan a big bash for him. Ellie felt obligated to come and your mom was pretty close to Maria. More time spent with your best friend wasn’t time wasted, so here you are. 

“At least she shows you the time of day,” You say under your breath. 

Jesse had been pretty flippant with you. He could never remember your name, let alone that you two shared the same street in Jackson. You also once shared a table at the mess hall. He was so tall and strong. Your crush on him was more physical than it was emotional. He was funny, sure, but you mainly just wanted to get him alone. 

“Why are we doing this to ourselves?” She ponders, finally looking away from the canoodling couple across the room, “We could do so much better!”

You know she’s just trying to convince herself of something she doesn’t really believe. The tone of her voice changes when she’s lying. 

“Like who? Slim pickin’s out here, Ellie. We have them and maybe 4 other undesirable people. There’s always the butcher’s son, he always had eyes for you.”

She grabs her cup from the table in front of you, “Yeah, men are… not my type.”

You turn your body so your legs are nudging her thighs, “Then, you really don’t have any choices.”

She nods her lips in a thin line. “I wish I could just.. Just go up there and talk to her. Ya know?”

“Why can’t you?”

“The same reason you can’t just go up and talk to Jesse.”

You roll your eyes, leaning forward on your knees. Your body is practically in her bubble, but she just sits back with her arm over the back of your chair.

You and Ellie had no real boundaries. You had no qualms about physical touch and Ellie never said anything or seemed to mind. You two have shared a horse countless times and even a bed. She never steered away from you.

“Well, Dina will talk to you if she sees other girls talking to you,” you state, reflecting on the last time everyone in Jackson got together. Some random girl came up to you two and as soon as Dina saw Ellie laughing with the other girl, she scrambled across the room to see what the fuss was about. You saw the same glint in her eyes that Ellie had. 

For some reason, it made you kind of jealous. 

You never tried to explore those knee-jerk emotions you had for Ellie. She was your best friend and you were positive she never felt romantic feelings towards you. Plus, you weren’t sure of your feelings about your sexuality. You always told Ellie you just liked who you liked, not really putting any importance on what was between their legs. You weren’t very experienced, but you had hooked up with both genders and liked it all equally.

“That was a coincidence, bug.”

That stupid nickname that she called you. Born from the one time you practically attracted every infected in the area with your scream over a huge beetle. She could not let it go and ended up calling you bug, just to annoy you. 

You finally look up at her freckled face, waiting for her to crack a smile. When you squint at her with contempt, she smirks. 

“Why don’t we find another girl and test the theory?”

She glances around the populated party, “Everyone here is over the age of 40.”

You turn back to the crowd of people around you and see that she’s right. 

You mull it over, your brain working to find a way that you both could get their attention. You two could simply say fuck it and go watch a movie and forget this stupid encounter happened. Joel would probably chew Ellie out, but when doesn’t he do that? 

Your next idea is something dangerous but something you had thought about before. You had never brought up the idea to Ellie because you were afraid of her reaction. 

“What’s your idea?”

She could read you like a book. You pursed your lips, wondering if you should even propose the idea to her. 

“How desperate are you?”

She laughs out loud, completely taken aback by the query. “Jesus, what are you thinkin’?”

You lick your lips, trying to make sure the idea comes out as a whisper.

“Why don’t we make them jealous? Just you and me?”

“How though?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Well, I’m a girl.”

You glance back at where Dina and Jesse were just dancing. They are both now facing you two’s direction, Jesse engrossed in a conversation with Tommy. Dina is just sipping from her glass, not really staring anywhere specific. 

You look back at Ellie who’s also looking at her, but meets your eyes when your face gets closer to hers. 

You would tell her how beautiful she was all the time and she just would roll her eyes and change the subject. You were physically attracted to her and there had been a couple of times you had thought about kissing her and wondered what her lips would feel like against yours. 

But she was your best friend. 

“Wrap your arm over my back,” You are still positioned, your elbows on your knees, your knees facing her thighs, “And rub it.”

She furrows her eyebrows, but she submits and brings the arm that is slouched over the chair to your lower back. You nod, watching as her lids lower. Her hand creeps up and down your side, her fingers grazing your ribs, up to your side boob. “Now what, bug?”

“Now, slowly move your hand up my back,” She does it as you’re speaking and the movement makes the hairs on your arms stand up, “Grab the nape of my neck.”

“Why are you making me do this?”

You lift up off your hands, bringing your face closer to hers. She doesn’t budge, sitting still and only focused on you and your words. 

“Because,” Her hand grabs the back of your neck, before slowly bringing it forward to collar bone. The gentleness of her touch and the fact that it’s your Ellie, makes every sense heightened. You don’t even realize how her touch is making you feel until you see her crack a smile. 

“Because why?” She whispers, her voice teasing. 

“Cause I want them to see you touch me.”

It comes out needy and desperate. Her eyes change when it slips from your lips, instead of being playful, she’s looking at you like you’re her next meal. She leans forward, her face millimeters from yours. 

You had never talked to Ellie like this but at this moment, you were completely transfixed on her. She was wearing a flannel over her shoulders covering her usual gray t-shirt. The sleeves were rolled up exposing the tattoo Cat did on her a year ago. 

You always thought it was hot, the way it trailed up her arm from her delicate wrist.

Her jeans are ripped and her legs and man-spreaded like she was carrying something in her jeans. 

And she smelled like pine. You loved it when you got the privilege to sleep next to her because her linens always smelled like her. You would love the idea of getting into bed with her right now.

“How do you want me to touch you?”

You chew the inside of your lip, “Any way you want to.”

She chuckles before brushing her hand down your exposed arm, “Is this for the bit or do you want me to genuinely touch you?”

You notice her being sincere. You think back to all the times you joked about sleeping with Ellie, and while at the time you chalked them up to being jokes, deep down, maybe it’s actually what you wanted. 

With the way she’s looking at you now, you prayed on every star that she would continue pushing your buttons. That somehow she would forget Dina even exists and realize it was you all along.

“Hey guys,” Her voice brings you out of your horny daze. It was the last voice you were expecting, and you can tell by the look on Ellie’s face, she is thinking the same thing. 

“Oh, hey Dina!” You quip up, not moving all the much to ensure she sees Ellie’s hand on your bicep. 

“You two busy?” The way she asks is almost too demanding. You glance back over at Ellie whose color is draining from her face. 

You shake your head, finally sitting up. Ellie’s hand doesn’t leave you though, instead, it just drops to your thigh. You try not to acknowledge it, as you notice Jesse coming up behind Dina. But now it feels so heavy against your legs, the weight of the situation finally hitting you. 

It worked. 

“We are just talking,” Ellie manages, her voice cracking. 

Jesse comes up behind Dina, wrapping his arms around her. You’re suddenly grateful that Ellie’s hand is still on you, the jitters hitting your system subsiding by the physical feeling of her being so near. 

“Looked like more than that,” Jesse jokes, his smile taking up a lot of his face, “You good Ellie?”

“Ellie was just telling me about the patrol she just went on with Jesse,” You explain quickly, making sure to look at Dina and not Jesse. “She told me about the infected y’all ran into!”

“Oh yeah, shit was crazy,” Jesse squeezes Dina tighter, “We gotta get back out there again, Ellie. You were a beast at taking those suckers down.”

“U-uh yeah, absolutely.”

You grab her hand as a reassurance. The exchange gets awkward quickly, none of you knowing what else to say. 

“Well, we should get goin’,” Dina says tapping Jesse’s arms, “See you two around?”

You two just nod. They walk away, not saying much of anything else. You stare at the wall, humiliated by the last 10 minutes of your life. You were unsure if you could even look Ellie in the eyes again. 

Ellie huffs loudly, sitting further back in her chair. “Well, that failed.”

You start to agree until that little bit of Ellie that’s rubbed off on you starts to come up your throat. The not-giving-much-of-a-fuck is creeping up on you. 

“Did it? Because I think it went exactly how I wanted it to.”

You finally return your eyes to her bewildered expression. You pull her hand off your lap as you stand up, yanking her up after you. 

“You wanted it to go like that? What was the point?”

You pull her closer to you before raising your lips up to her ear. Her hair is tucked behind the crest of her ear, so it tickles your nose a bit before you speak. 

She turned you on, so now you needed her to do something about it. Here’s to not giving a fuck. 

“The point was to get you to finally touch me.”

The temperature in the room rises a million degrees. Ellie’s eyes light up at the statement and you know that was exactly what she wanted to hear before Dina came up to you. 

You start to pull her towards the kitchen door, right near your table. You remember finding a hidden supply closet back there last Christmas party. Your skin was on fire as you dragged her through the appliances to the somewhat large closet. It was practically empty, void of anything anyone at the party may need, so it was safe. Plus it had a lock. 

As soon as the door shuts behind her, Ellie’s on you. Her lips hit yours and it was exactly how you imagined it. She was quick and eager with her kisses, her tongue plunging into your mouth immediately. She was grabbing your hips, pushing you towards the wall where all the brooms and mops were. You try not to trip, giggling as you pull her face closer to you. 

“So this is what you wanted?” She pulls away from you for a breath, “Using making Dina jealous as a ploy to get to finally kiss you?”

Your hands find the spot above the hem of her jeans, right under her t-shirt. Out of instinct, you start to unbutton her pants. 

“Actually, that wasn’t the plan.”

Her eyes are trained on your lips, “Is that so?”

“No, but you were playing the part way too well and I realized something.”

“What did you realize?”

The overhead light was so dim but you could still somehow see her cute freckles. 

“That I want you more than I want anyone else. I need you to touch me more often.”

She chuckles, her fingers still pressed into your hips, “Well, bug, I’m touching you just like you asked.”

She drags kisses up your jaw and neck. You try not to fall apart over that alone. Ellie always talked about how inexperienced she was, but she’s probably the most tentative kisser you have ever encountered. 

“Can you touch me here?”

You press your hands to the zip of your jeans. She looks down at your body to where you’re touching and she clicks her tongue. 

“Ask politely, baby, and I’ll do anything you want.”

The nickname change makes your heart stop. 

“Can you, my sweet best friend, touch me and get me off? Please?”

She groans at the question, a sound you never thought she’d make for you. 

“Of course,” She grabs the belt loops of your pants before yanking them down your legs without resistance, “What are friends for?”

You know you’re soaked by the way she smiles up at you. She gets down on her knees, looking up at you, as her hands slowly start to spread your legs. You are standing against a wall, watching your best friend’s face creep close to your center. 

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. She pulls at your panties, toying with the fabric before you take matters into your own hands and pull them down your legs. 

She brings her lower lip between her teeth, “This wet for me?”

You could slap the stupid smirk off her face, but before you can even say something snarky back, she slips her digits between your glistening slit. Your body practically buckles at the prodding, so you brace yourself against the shelf next to you.

Your normal reaction to feeling good is to close your legs together tightly, but Ellie has her left hand mounted to your inner thigh, keeping you open for her, while the other one is slowly creeping up to your weeping hole. She’s gentle when she puts one finger inside you.

Once your body reacts around her, she pulls her finger out to inspect how wet you are. After she’s satisfied with her findings, she adds another which causes you to mewl at the sensation. 

“Ellie, please,” You beg, trying to get more friction. She’s not letting you do anything but watch. 

“Mmm,” She hums before moving her face closer to you, “Love to hear you moan my name, bug. You wanna be a good girl? Keep begging.”

You never took Ellie as someone who loves to hear her sexual partner beg, but it turns you on even more. 

You watch her close in on your clit, her tongue finding the bud and flicking it a couple of times. The moans that come out of your mouth are so deprived. Her fingers slip so seamlessly in and out of you, that you try to remember a time you were so wet. Nothing comes to mind because all your brain is thinking is Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. 

“Please, please,” you plead, trying your best to egg her on so she goes faster. It works because she picks up the pace fucking you. Her mouth suddenly closes around your clit, and she sucks. 

Your one hand is still gripping onto whatever is next to you, but your other hand has to rest somewhere. Her short brown locks are right there, so you grab on. 

Her mouth leaves your clit, and instead, her tongue licks up and down your weeping hole. When you bring her closer in, her nose starts to stimulate your sensitive bud. 

The sounds are so wet and depraved, you’re sure the bubbling in your stomach is about to come to a tipping point. You find yourself grinding forward, trying to get friction on your clit again. Her nose prods the spot over and over again as you grind down onto her face. 

Ellie hums as she fucks you, trying her best to push your limit. You know you’re close and you are sure she can feel how tight your pussy is gripping onto her fingers. She knows you’re close so she kicks it up a notch and shakes her head between your folds. That motion alone sends a tidal wave within you crashing to the shore. You pull her hair so hard, you know it probably hurts but fuck, you needed her to feel how good she was making you feel. 

The white-hot feeling starts to subside and you are panting like you just ran a mile. You finally release Ellie’s head, letting her come up for air. Her lips are saturated with your slick and it looks like she’s drunk on you by the way her eyes are half shut. She pulls her two fingers out of your tight hole, making you whine at the emptiness. 

She stands up, bringing her two fingers up to your lips. 

“Wanna see how good you taste?”

She’s so fucking dirty. It gets you so riled up. 

You grab onto her wrist and bring the fingers up to your mouth. You suck them dry, giving into how absurd this is. 

“You’re a freak, too,” She beams at you, before bringing you into another feverish kiss. You were so mesmerized by her. She grabs onto your hips, pulling your naked bottom half to her still-clothed legs. 

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” You grumble, still recovering from the drilling you just had. Her hands travel up your sides, under your t-shirt. She is holding onto your ribcage, looking at your exposed tummy as the shirt rides up. 

“I didn’t think you’d go for me, especially when guys like Jesse are your type,” She explains, so enthralled by the way your body looks to her, “I don’t know if I can let him have you, now.”

You smirk, your hands twisting around her shoulders, “Oh, I see. Well, if he can’t have me, then Dina can’t have you.”

“Well, thank God they have each other, then.”

[probablyreadinsmut]

Javier Peña X Afab!Reader one shot

Maneater

What if it were the other way around? You were the insatiable menace who fucked her way through Colombia and Javier Peña was the one who pined after you, but you never gave him the time of day, until now.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Onlyyyy. Alcohol consumption, language, Public groping, fingering, Oral (F receiving), PIV Sex (Unprotected, birth control discussed, wrap it before you tap it ppl). Couple of dick taps. Liiiiiitle bit 'o fluff and angst. Spanish nicknames. Overuse of 'Cariño and hermosa'. Bi reader. Time period relevant sexism and homophobia mentioned. Big 'ol praise kink. There was going to be more but I chickened out since it was my first time writing a full on sex scene.

A/N: This is purely self indulgent, Reader is Javiers DEA partner of several years. She's a little emotionally unavailable and knows how much Javi thirsts after her. Writing this bc it's that time of the month where I get the urge to howl at the moon like a bitch in heat so I have to channel it somehow.

Word Count: 4.3k

The vibes for this fic⬇️ I love imagining Javi to 80s music <3

Blog masterlist here

Bogata, Colombia. 1991.

The cigarette smoke hangs like a thick fog under the dim light above your booth. The jukebox is playing a song with a slow and sensual beat.

Everyone else had gone home for the evening, Steve had said Olivia was teething and he didn't want to leave Connie to deal with that alone. The rest of the guys had various excuses themselves but honestly you didn't give a shit, too busy scanning the bar over the rim of your glass for your next conquest. All the while Javier sits opposite, taking long, slow drags of his cigarette, just watching you. Like it was his favourite thing to do.

It was clear he had a thing for you, he wasn't exactly secretive about it. But you never gave him the time of day. Sure he was handsome and you'd bet your bottom dollar that he was a good fuck. However, you'd made it a rule to not shit where you eat.

So like a puppy waiting for scraps, he sits silently as your eyes flit from one man to another. He didn't blame you, the job you were both doing was stressful. Everyone has to have their outlets otherwise you'd go insane. Sometimes he wondered though, if there was more to it. If you needed a different body in your bed every night because it was a distraction from more than just the job. If only he knew.

"Slim pickins' tonight" It came as a mumble into the glass, finishing off the last of your vodka cranberry. "Maybe I'll go pay Helena a visit instead." You'd smirked as you said it. Helena was one of your informants, who much to your initial surprise and then sheer delight, had one day said to you that she'd always wanted to try being with a woman. You were more than happy to oblige.

And so your agreement was born, she gives you information in exchange for orgasm better than any of her clients could ever give her and you were working on getting her visa paperwork expidited.

You  hadn't expected that when you came down to Colombia, but fuck if you didn't love the way she sounded when she came apart on your tongue. 

Colombia wasn't exactly progressive when it came to same sex relations, so you didn't tell many people about it, for fear it could hurt her somehow. Her job. Her reputation and perhaps yours. Not that the states was much better either.

The thought of you being with anyone else always sparked this possessive jealousy in his chest, Javier knew he had no right. You'd made it clear long ago that it wasn't going to happen, but even so. He was conflicted, the idea of you being with another woman made his cock twitch in his jeans, of course it did, he was a simple man. But he was also a man who wanted you all to himself.

Exhaling a large plume of smoke above his head as he stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray, Javier decides enough is enough. It's now or never, feeling emboldened by the three glasses of Whiskey under his belt tonight.

"Cariño..." He starts as he gets up from his side to come sit beside you, blocking your view of anyone else in the bar, forcing you to just see him. "What do I have to do for you to see what's right in front of you? What do I have to do to get you to see me?" His voice is low and seductive but the way he's looking at you... Big soft brown eyes that portray the vulnerability he's been trying to hide. It's not just about sex for him, this runs deeper.

A small sigh leaves you, seeing the way he's gazing at you, like he wants to give you the whole world when you can't even give him a tiny fraction of space in your hesrt.

You had thought about it, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't. He's probably one of the most handsome men you've ever seen, a jawline that would make most women weep, eyes that under any other circumstances you would picture yourself getting lost in and those jeans. He knew what he was doing wearing jeans as tight as that.

But it's unethical. Against protocol. If Ambassador Noonan found out she'd reassign you for sure. Not him though, he's the guy, he'd just get a slap on the wrist and told to keep it in his pants in future. That's the way this environment worked. That's the way the world worked, women suffer the harsher consequences, while men get let off.

And then there was the part of you that didn't want to lead him on, to drop breadcrumbs for him leading him along a path he was hoping would bring him to a hot out of the oven loaf of bread, only to be greeted with something stale and inedible.

But right now, as his large hand has found its way to your knee under the table, alcohol clouding your judgement, your horny mind is saying 'One night won't hurt, right?'.

"Javi.. You know I can't give you what you want, right?" His fingers, trailing further up the inside of your thigh are distracting and that's what he's aiming for, to seduce you and deep down, he hopes it would change your mind.

"Hermosa, I don't know what you think I'm 'looking for' here. I just think..." He scooches closer, bringing his lips to your ear, fingers gently kneading at the fleshy part of your thigh "... That we both need some stress relief tonight, let me help you, hm?" He finishes his whispered offer by pressing a barely there kiss just below your ear, hips plush lips barely grazing your skin, sending heat flooding south in your body.

"Javi" The way you breathe his name has his dick getting hard already.

"Yes Cariño? C'mon use your words.." He purrs in your ear as his hand moves to cup your pussy over your jeans, applying enough pressure against your clit to make you bite down on your lip, stopping the moan that's threatening to spill from your mouth.

You're not stopping him, infact you're parting your legs for him wider under the table. You do want this. You do want him.

Turing your head to nuzzle your lips against his jaw, nipping lightly at the shaved skin there, your words a breathless plea "Javi please... I-I-I need... Just tonight. That's it..."

He pulls back enough to look into your eyes, seeing them heavily lidded with desire, he's barely touched you and you're falling apart for him already. It's everything he's dreamed of.

"Just tonight" He echoes before he goes for it, slanting his lips over yours, keeping himself restrained for now being in a public place, definitely not looking to be arrested for indecent exposure and thrown into a Colombian jail, at least the blood hadn't completely rushed to his cock just yet.

The kiss is electrifying, his hand leaving the space between your legs to cup your face, deepening the kiss as you melt into him, one hand slipping into his hair at the nape of his neck, the other finding its way  to his thigh, sliding up, up, up.

With his body shielding you and the bar being as busy as it is, no one is taking any notice of the two of you, heavy petting getting more risque for being in public, the little gasp against his lips when you find him rock hard and straining against the thick denim, has his head spinning, pulling back to take a breather.

"We should-"

"Get out of here and go back to your place?" You're keen. It has him grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"It's like you read my fucking mind baby"

///

The moment you both step into his apartment, it's game over. A clash of teeth and tongues, slamming you into the wall without tearing his lips away from yours, his hands running all over your curves as your own hands grasp at his broad shoulders, pushing his leather jacket off him until it falls to the floor.

"I need you naked, right this fucking second" The growl in his tone has your pussy clenching around nothing, nodding eagerly as he starts to undress you. First it's your shirt, ripping it open, sending buttons flying, scattering in the entryway, leaving it hanging off you, a useless scrap of material. He'd feel bad but the thought of you having to wear one of his shirts to go home in, is too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

"Look at these... Perfect tits. Fuck me" He groans as he leans down, sucking on the swell of your breast, thumb rubbing over the lace, coaxing your nipple to harden. Your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his face, a hand tangled in his raven hair, holding him in place, a silent plea to keep going. God those fucking moans of yours are beautiful, all rational thought going straight to his dick.

"Javiii"  It's a whiney little beg, as you're kicking your shoes off, feeling the dampness between your legs spreading by the second. "I- need-"

"I know... I've got you hermosa"  Slowly, achingly so, he sinks to his knees in front of you, dragging his lips downwards, his breath hot against your skin, sucking and nibbling as he goes. Your head is tipped back agaisnt the wall, you don't dare look down at him, not yet. You can feel that fucker grinning against your stomach, knowing he's about to get the prize he covets most in this world.

"Look at me hermosa, I want you to watch everything I'm about to do you you. I want you to see what you've been missing this whole time."

He's quick to rid you of your jeans, Javier likes to tease and prolong the experience with women most of the time, but right now, when the object of all his desires is standing right in front of him, he can't do that. Not now he has you where he wants you, where he's wanted you since the first day you met.

And against your better judgement, you do as he says, looking down at him, his eyes are practically black with desire now, staring up at you through his lashes, looking sinful as fuck as he sits on his knees. All for you. Ready to worship at his altar. His religion? Pussy. His goddess? You.

"Fuuuck. You always wear skimpy little panties like this in the office? Dirty girl." He hooks his fingers into the elastic of your thong, tugging them down your thighs, all the while keeping steady eye contact with you, the smug satisfied smirk on his face has him so sure of himself, so sure that after tonight you'll be coming back for more.

Once they're off, he tucks them into the pocket of his jeans as a memento of this night and he wastes no time, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder, diving in mouth first. Not rushing, but not taking his time either. There's a hint of desperation behind everything he's done so far tonight, a testament to how much he wants this.

You gasp and arch your back off the wall as the flat of his tongue slides between your soaked lips, one hand braced on the wall above your head while the other curls into his hair, gripping and tugging at it, urging him on. The low muffled groan that leaves him vibrates through you, he's getting drunk off the taste of you, the way you're gasping and moaning for him. All for him.

Skillfully working your clit with his tongue, you feel his free hand snaking up the inside of your thigh until he reaches his destination. Wet and slippery with the combination of his saliva and your juices, he teases your entrance with one thick finger, circling it slowly before he pushes inside. "Oh fuck" he hisses against your pussy "So fucking tight, knew you would be" And then without warning, a second finger breeches you, making you cry out his name.

"I know baby... I know, I've got you. You gonna cum for me hermosa, hmm? Gonna cum all over my fingers for me?" it's taunting, it's blinding pleasure, it's ecstasy.  He finds that spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes, pumping his fingers in a deep slow rhythm as you writhe above him already teetering on the brink when he suctions his lips against your clit and sucks. It's like an out of body experience. Like you're floating above yourself watching this all happen. Trembling as he holds you steady, working you through your orgasm with his fingers, but he's detached his lips from your clit, looking up at you from his knees, just admiring the way you shatter for him. Like a work of art. Jaw slack in a silent scream, breasts heaving beneath your lacy bra.

Right now, as your cum drips down his knuckles, he can't believe his fucking luck honestly. 

Once you're lucid and you're no longer trembling, he removes his fingers, you whine at the loss of him. Gently setting your leg down, he rises in front of you and brings the sticky fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, moaning in approval as you watch on with renewed arousal. 

"It's really not fair you know." 

His lip curls into a mocking grin as he drops the now clean fingers from his lips, placing his hand beside your head against the wall, leaning in close enough for you to catch the heady scent of your arousal on his moustache. "What's not fair princesa? Was that not enough for you?" Smug bastard. Smug, proud bastard. 

The way you suck your teeth and narrow your eyes at him, tells him he's winning. Slowly wearing you down just like he wanted. You're charmed by this. Not just because he eats pussy like it was his day job but by him. 

"What's not fair... Is that I'm practically naked and you're still fully dressed."

"So I am. Maybe we should do something about that hm?"

Before you can even answer his hands are on your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist, lips finding yours in a heated kiss, tongue pushing past your teeth to entangle with yours, ensuring you taste yourself on him. Your arms wrap around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk you into the main living space towards his leather couch. 

"You taste how fucking sweet you are? I could eat that pretty little pussy all day." Filthy. Absolute filth is coming out of his mouth right now and you feel yourself dripping onto him I return. You'd had a hunch he'd be like this but honestly? It's surpassing every expectation you did have. 

You squeel as he tosses you down onto the couch and he admires the way it makes your tits bounce even in the confines of your bra, but he needs to see more, just like you do. 

"Take it off. Or I will." Hottest fucking threat you've ever heard. 

Sitting up slightly, you remove the remains of your shirt and bring your hands to your back to undo the clasp, all the while he's standing over you, watching you like a hawk. 

"I'm not taking this off until you start getting undressed too Javier. It's a two way street." Now it's your turn to smirk, two can play that game, you both know what's about to happen so why the fuck is he not naked right now? 

"Hm... Fairs fair I s'pose." With deft fingers, he starts to unbutton his shirt revealing a new patch of golden skin as he goes, toned chest that you've only ever caught slivers of when he decides he's going to get a little slutty with it in the office and doesn't quite button his shirt up all the way that day. You'd always wondered if it was for you. 

The subtle lick of your lips and the way your pupils blow when his shirt falls open is something he'll be playing on repeat in his mind for years to come, on nights when it's just him and his hand, abusing his cock as he thinks about you and this moment right now. 

Once that's off and on the floor, he's toeing off his shoes and unbuttoning those deliciously tight jeans. God bless this man and his inability wear anything that doesn't show off what he's got. Rightfully so. 

Your eyes start at the dark happy trail of hair leading downwards, following his fingers as one button is undone, then the second and it then becomes ubundantly clear, he's not wearing boxers today. Seems you're not the only one who likes to push the boundaries of what you wear to the office. Or don't wear, in his case. 

Now he does tease, now he has you wanting more, he's taking his sweet time, tugging the zipper unhurriedly, with a shit eating grin as he sees you clenching your thighs together, no doubt making a mess on his couch under you. 

"What's the matter princesa? Impatient for something?" He knows what he's doing. You're not rising to it, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much you just want to yank those goddamn jeans down and jump his bones. Instead you play your ace card, undoing your bra just as slowly, the clasp pinging open, but you hold it against you, not letting it fall away just yet. Like a horny exchange of hostages. A challenge, waiting to see who will give in first. 

It was him. Unable to hold himself back anymore, he shoves his jeans down his thighs, freeing his cock. 

Your mouth waters at the sight, thick, around 8 inches and slightly curved. A little darker than the rest of him, veins protuding that you could practically feel on your tongue right now. Dark curls trimmed neatly around the base and balls. Beautiful. You wondered where the hell he was hiding that thjng in those jeans of his. 

"Fairs fair, I s'pose" You parrot his words from earlier and pull away your bra, tossing it over the back of his couch with abandon. Exposing every inch of yourself to him now. 

Before you can even process it, he's on you, pinning you into the couch cushions as he roughly palms your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers making you whimper and gasp under him, his lips attach to your neck, panting heavily against your skin as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and settles between them. 

By some miracle he remembers that birth control is a thing, removing his lips from your neck, looming over you, taut as a bow string, ready to snap any second. 

"Do I need to go run and grab a condom or-?" Thank god he'd asked because you were so lost in the moment it wouldn't have occurred to you. 

"I'm on the pill. We're good." With anyone else, random encounters, you'd been insisting on using condoms, but you trusted Javier and he trusted you. 

"Thank fuck for that" the little giggle you let out is fucking adorable but he's not about to delay things further by telling you that, or god forbid, ruin the moment altogether. 

Pushing your thighs apart with one hand, he strokes himself with the other, spreading the glossy pre-cum from tip to base. 

"Ready for me hermosa?" 

With an eager nod of consent, he notches himself at your entrance and slowly started to feed himself inside. Inch by inch. The delicious sting and stretch of him making you both groan in unison. 

"Fuuuuuuck she's so tight" 

And then all at once you're full of him, legs wrapping around his waist as he gives you a second to adjust, Stroking your cheek almost tenderly as he checks if you're okay before he starts to move. 

The leather creaks under you as he saws in and out of your tight heat, almost all the way before he's plunging back in again, setting a deliberate slow, unchanging rhythm as he listens to your moans and sighs as cues of what you like. Steadily picking up his pace as he fucks you into the cushions, holding one of your legs in place around his waist as his other hand shoots out to grip the arm of the couch, tipping his head back as he's getting lost in his own pleasure. Your nails raking down his back is sending him for a loop, theres no way he's going to let himself cum yet, not this soon and not before you cum again. 

Slipping his hands under your back for support, he sits up right, pulling you up with him, pulling a gasp from you.

Quickly you catch on, slipping your arms around his neck as you start to bounce on his dick, aided by him guiding your hip movements.

"Good girl, riding my fat cock so well. Look at you, bet you could make yourself cum like this huh?"

The praise alone has you circling the drain, desperate to hold off until you've ridden him a little longer.

"Javi!" You sob, crushing your lips against his as he thrusts up to meet your hips over and over again, swallowing your moans. Then he goes and slips his hand between the both of you, inching back slightly to give himself space to work, circling the pad of his thumb against your aching clit with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge, kissing him desperately as you meet your climax again, your moans drowned out by the sound of blood rushing to your ears. 

It's like music to his fucking ears.

Quicker than you can register, he pulls out and flips you over onto your knees, a hand splayed out on the middle of your back gently pushing you down until you arch your ass into the air.

He slaps his dick against your ass cheek a few times before teasing it through your sopping folds, making you whine and wiggle your hips back begging him to sink back into you.

A low chuckle leaves him before he speaks, feeding his girth back into you at the same time. "You thought.. oh fuck... I was done with you? Not even close."

Sliding his hand up your spine until he's at the base of your neck, holding you down as the other hand tightly grips your hip for leverage, not giving you any time to come down from your release before he starts to fuck you again at a punishing pace. Your cheek is pressed against the leather, jaw slack, mouth hanging open dumbly, all you can do is grip at the couch cushions and get out garbled noises of pleasure.

He's ruining you in the best way possible.

"Jaaaaviiiiii!"

He's panting and groaning behind you, watching his cock disappearing into you over and over again, feeling his balls tightening, getting closer to his own release.

"Cum for me hermosa... I.. Oh fuck yes... Know you have another one in you. Cum. For. Me." He punctuates his words with hard, deep thrusts, hitting  that spot deep inside you that has you screaming, pussy clenching around him. Seconds later he follows after you, spilling thick ropes of hot cum inside your abused cunt, lowering himself to lean over your back, groaning into your ear. That sound alone has your pussy pulsing, milking him for every last drop.

///

Javier was actually very attentive afterwards, checking you were okay, you felt completely boneless, slumped flat against the couch, sweaty chest sticking to the leather, completely fucked out but you were fine.

He'd gone to the bathroom to grab a warm wash cloth, cleaning you up between your thighs as you just lay there letting him take care of you.

He'd handed you his shirt, pulling back on his jeans before wandering into the kitchen to get you some water, somehow you managed to sit yourself up and pull it on, buttoning it up most of the way. Your hair was an absolute mess and the throbbing between your legs would be a reminder of him for hours to come. 

"Here you go Cariño" His voice is soft now, a stark contrast from how he was when he was fucking you stupid.

You take the glass from him as he sits back on the couch, reaching for his cigarette, leaning back as he lights up and takes his first drag. Of course he's a 'cigarette after sex' kind of guy.

Your throat is so dry from how your long mouth had been hanging open for, he can still hear your screams of pleasure ringing in his ears even now.

Dropping your gaze to the glass in your hands, feeling like a piece of shit with what you're about to say to him. You didn't regret giving into him, but you regretted that you were now going to have to break his heart. You couldn't be the person he wanted you to be for him.

"Javi, I-"

He knows. He always knew. And that's what hurts the most. That he let himself think that this would change your mind. Not that he thought he could fuck you into it, but that you'd suddenly realise that he was what you were missing. "Don't. Don't say it. I already know." He sets the cigarette down in the ashtray on the coffee table before he turns to face you, reaching out to cup his hands over yours, with the saddest of smiles on his handsome face.

"I'm sorry Javi."

"Don't be. It's my fault for letting myself dream. You are my fucking dream Cariño. I'd wait as long as it takes for you to want me back, years If I had to."

He'd wait for you. He doesn't need to explain how he feels about you because his words and the way he's looking at you right now says it all and it's just too much.

"I know you would Javier and that's what scares me."

///

Tqglist for my mutuals, tysm if you take time to read this, lmk your thoughts <3

@almostempty @cheekychaos28 @itwasntimethatdidit40 @lovely-vamp-princess @morallyinept

[bignaz8]

Peter Sellers was originally going to ride the atom bomb in "Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb" (1964). Slim Pickens (born Louis Burton Lindley Jr.) got a phone call late one evening from Stanley Kubrick: "Peter has fallen and broken his hip, I need you for a day's shoot--I need you bad and I need you now. How soon can you get on a plane and make it to London?". Slim obliged and in his haste forgot that he didn't have a passport because he had never traveled outside the US before. His entrance was delayed while he had to go through the process of getting one before he was allowed to leave the airport. When Pickens showed up on the set of "Dr. Strangelove" fully dressed as a cowboy and speaking in a thick Southern accent, the British crew thought he was "Method" acting, not knowing that this was how he always dressed and acted. He explained how he got into the rodeo business: "Well, there was this big, lanky, 15-year-old California ranch kid, and he went into the rodeo manager's office and said, 'Mister, I want to sign up for the calf-roping but my paw says I ain't allowed to. So I can't use my right name'. And the manager said, 'Son, no matter what name you use, it'll be slim pickin's out there today'. So the boy said, 'That's as good a name as any, I reckon-put me down as Slim Pickin's'. The manager spelled it 'Pickens' and the boy won $400 that afternoon."

[hysteria-things]

omg sorry about the millions of requests but like dilf!matt doing the slim pickins sabrina carpenter trend with dolly!babysitter

DON’T BE SORRY KEEP SENDING ‘EM BUT HOLY HELL THIS IS SO SEXY AND YUMMY.

if i was an artist like how i was years ago i would make a silly drawing of this because picturing this has me giggling and kicking my feet.

(heart divider by @issysh3ll)

“you want to do what?” matt asks, arms crossed with a brow raised, and yet still a straight face.

“it’s a silly tiktok trend, matthew.” you roll your eyes, mimicking the cross of his arms. “i won’t post it. i just want to see how you do.”

he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as if you asked him to sacrifice himself. “i will not be doing that.”

the phone is propped up on his dresser, both of you in the frame. matt looks like this is the end of the world, but you’re smiling ear to ear as the timer ticks down until the audio plays.

❝a boy who’s jacked and kind❞

of course, matt picks you up and places you onto his shoulder with ease, muscles peeking out from under his long sleeve. his hand rests on your thigh to keep you balanced while you giggle nonstop at the camera.

[happenssweet]

challengers x short n' sweet

・❥・taste | tashi duncan

・❥・please please please | patrick zweig

・❥・good graces | patrick zweig

・❥・sharpest tool | tashi duncan

・❥・coincidence | patrick zweig

・❥・bed chem | art donaldson

・❥・espresso | art donaldson

・❥・dumb & poetic | tashi duncan

・❥・slim pickins | patrick zweig

・❥・juno | art donaldson

・❥・lie to girls | tashi duncan

・❥・don't smile | art donaldson

notes:

HERE WE GO! so so so so so so so excited to have this be out for you guys. i hope you have as much fun using these as i did making them! thank you lovelies <333

slim pickins is a slight au, given art and tashi get together pretty much immediately after her injury, rather than years later

art donaldson breeding kink is a hc that has gone triple platinum in my mind. trust, if you let him make you juno, he is not passing up that chance

please. do not hesitate to ask for clarification on any scenarios/prompts. sometimes there is so much in my mind that i forget to condense it and write the actually important parts down LMFAO

have a req? drop it in my inbox or submit here!

[kathlare]

The One Where They Reconnect

Welcome to the masterlist for this phase of Amelie and Lando’s story, set in 2023—a pivotal year where they start seeing each other more often than they had in years. This timeline marks a turning point in their dynamic, with plenty of unresolved tension, history, and emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

previous year // next year

This timeline highlights their story in this year of reconnection, where sparks fly, tempers flare, and old feelings resurface in ways neither of them is quite prepared for.

Thank you so much for reading and supporting this story—it means the world to me! I hope you enjoy this messy, emotional, and sometimes chaotic chapter of their journey. 💕

full masterlist // request over here!

Timeline: 2023

just a pause

a glimpse of what was - Austalian Grand Prix

shattered silence

between two worlds

threads of the past - Emails I Can't Send Tour Los Angeles

lingering questions - Azerbaijan Grand Prix

sand traps - Miami Grand Prix

fault lines

don't wanna break up again

ties of tension

the race of resentment - Monaco Grand Prix

inevitable truth

lifting the weight

city of reflections

flicker of hope - Canadian Grand Prix

dumb & poetic

lingering thoughts - Austrian Grand Prix

a song apart - Emails I Can't Send Tour London

crossed paths - British Grand Prix

espresso

silent encounter

the weight of her name - Belgian Grand Prix

the heart's echo

unfinished business

fading distractions

taste

a gesture across time - Dutch Grand Prix

a yellow reminder - Eras Tour Mexico

lingering shadows

no strings attached - Video Music Awards (VMAs)

slim pickins

unseen weight - Japanese Grand Prix

circus of emotions - Amelie's Birthday Special

paris confessions

a shift in focus

lie to girls

a moment of clarity

crossroads of the past - United States Grand Prix

the weight of a glance

echoes of the past - Mexican Grand Prix

magnetic pull

golden mornings

the burden of secrets

threads that bind - Brazilian Grand Prix

secretly ours - Eras Tour Argentina

perfect gift - Lando's Birthday Special

good graces

echoes of the crash - Las Vegas Grand Prix

the weight of uncertainty - Thanksgiving Special

into the night - Abu Dhabi Grand Prix

second chances

morning roast

morning comforts

snowed in secrets

a touch of christmas

frosted laughter

uninvited visit

family matters

where the heart belong - Christmas Special

midnight spark - New Year's Special

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part six

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee. also not thoroughly proofread oops

the songs in this chapter are: "scared of my guitar" by Olivia Rodrigo, "Michigan Cherry" by River Whyless, "Traveling Song" by Ryn Weaver, "Slim Pickins" by Sabrina Carpenter, and "Adore You - Acoustic" by Maisie Peters !!

a/n: ahhh hi it's my birthday! super excited to share this with you guys even though it isn't all that special or exciting but i'm just happy to be back :). last year for my birthday i posted in this life or the next and i wanted to finally get part 3 of that up today but that just wasn't going to happen BUT for everyone asking i am working on it. i swear. i'm not giving up on it!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

You thought that you might have heard somewhere that music is to the soul as opium is to a stubborn cough.

Or, maybe you dreamt that. Regardless, you knew for certain now that it was bullshit. But, with nowhere else to place your heartache, you found yourself sitting by a fire nearly every night with your guitar in your lap, humming soft words under your breath and plucking the strings as gently as you could.

It was for work, yes, but like opium, you had long since become addicted to the routine. Billy had too.

"You can play a little louder, y'know." He hums, tossing a broken twig into the campfire that separates you. "I was promised music in exchange for my services."

"And you get your music." You chuckle, hand pressed over the strings to stop their hum. "You haven't missed a show in almost two months, that ain't enough?"

"Sure, I'm just sayin' don't hold back your practice on my account. I'm happy to listen again." He answers with a soft smile, the yellow glow from the flames warming his features and bathing him in light.

You can't help the matching twitch of your lips to return his, feeling the slight burn in your cheeks that you can't confidently attribute to either the fire or your own blushing. "Well, it ain't much to listen to yet. Not finished."

"Ah, somethin' new?" Billy asks, leaning back on his palms and watching you expectantly as you give him a slight nod.

You're leaning over your guitar to scribble in that little notebook of yours, the pencil almost nothing more than a little nub in your hands and the pages of the book almost filled to the brim with words and notes. The temptation he faces every day to just grab it while you're sleeping or out away from the camp on a little walk has become an almost unbearable curiosity.

Because yes, he loves the songs you do sing, but what he wouldn't give to hear the ones you don't.

Billy would dive at any opportunity to see just a little more into your beautiful mind.

"Yeah, kinda." You hum in response, distracted again by the strings of your guitar effectively wrapping around your heart and your fingers and dragging your attention back to it.

"Okay, then, let me hear what you have so far."

You hate doing that, normally. You would hardly even play incomplete songs for your family when they were around- that awkward moment where you just have to trail off and go "Um, that's all I have..." and try to laugh but not too awkwardly was something painful.

But, this was Billy. Something about him compelled you to agree.

The problem was, the song you were currently meddling with the idea of may or may not be about him. You'd like to confirm with yourself that no, it is not about Billy, but damnit- he's the only person in your life. What else were you meant to write about?

You look down at the pages next to you, narrowed eyes reading over your own writing.

'Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why's there a pit in my gut, in the shape of you'-

Nope, nope, no. He's not hearing that.

You could deny all you wanted that the unfinished song was about him, try and claim to yourself that it was about Max- but deep down you knew the direction it was going.

You flick through the most recent pages, trying to spark your memory of something safer.

'Tart and sweet like a wild berry Tart and sweet your words to me Dark and red like a Michigan cherry Dark and red as the Iliad sea Here we lie in the deep night ready Here we lie, our skin is bare'-

That's definitely not going to work either. Your cheeks get somehow hotter and you clear your throat, flipping the page again.

Okay, this is much better.

"Like I said, it ain't done, so... not much to it yet, but..." You say, clearing your throat and avoiding his eyes as you quickly scan the new page again and position your fingers over the guitar strings.

Billy gives you a steeled nod, sitting up a little straighter ready to listen as if he would be a judge of the quality of your music. It was a joke, you both knew it. He knew he couldn't come up with a critiquing word toward your music if he was held at gunpoint and forced to try.

"Nobody knows where they are going Oh, how we try to wrap our minds Over the edge of all our knowings Be it a bang or the divine Tip of my iceberg blues are showing I've never been one for goodbyes So, 'til I meet you there, I'm singing A traveling song to ease the ride And so you know, everywhere I roam I'll see you on the road."

Your voice is steady, focussed on getting it out rather than dwelling on the meaning of the words and Billy could tell.

"So farewell to my friend, He who taught me to love like a beast And to feast like the queen that he fed turtle soup Little boy from Paris to the States, check the facts That was Magical Max He was black sheep and mischief and love for his craft..."

His heart leaps at the little laugh that falls from your lips at the memory of your friend, your fingers slowing their strum to a steady halt. He doesn't expect you to continue, but you do, your smile quickly fading again back into an attempt at indifferent focus.

"Then he told me that I was starlights that shine On that very last day, he said "Shoot for your dreams, little girl, to the stars" Well, I'm taking you with me Now this one is ours and I know what you'd say you'd say "On with the show!" So on we go."

How embarrassing it is to almost cry singing a song that isn't done, for your best friend who would never live to hear it. Whose memory deserved to be shared. It wouldn't get very far if you couldn't even share it with one person; if you couldn't even stomach finishing it.

"Um, so... I'm not sure about chording for that last bit, or honestly the lyrics. I think it feels better without the guitar, but..." You say quickly, focussing yourself on your book and pretending to scribble something in it just so you wouldn't have to look at the boy sitting across the fire from you.

"I think it's perfect." Billy tells you, a softness to his tone you only had the pleasure of hearing once in a blue moon.

What he meant to say was that it's beautiful, that it's a flawlessly fitting tribute that he felt lucky to hear, that when sung by an angel's voice like yours he didn't doubt for a second that your friend Max had heard it from beyond the veil and loved it too. Even unfinished.

None of that was what came out though, essentially awestruck the way he always was at your shows- but this time he was able to actually speak to you after hearing it instead of just clapping, whistling, or if he was lucky, catching your gaze with a smile and a corny thumbs up that told you he thought you were doing great. Not that you needed it.

"Thanks." Your sweet voice replies, watching him for a moment you determine to be too long before your focus is back on the notebook next to you. "Anyway, um, if you want to hear something else unfinished, this one I think is going to be kind of funny."

"Show me what you've got, then."

Billy simply couldn't resist anymore.

Sitting absentmindedly on a hay bale in a barn where a local owner was gracious enough to let the two of you stay, that damned notebook seems to be glowing right in his face from the sunlight streaming through some bullet holes in the wood paneling that made up the side of the stable.

It's taunting him, he's sure of it.

This stare-down has been going on for about ten minutes since you left it out on the ground next to your guitar to go use the homeowner's washbasin to clean up when his wife offered- you weren't going to turn down a bath that wasn't in a creek.

That would probably take you a while though, you'd likely savour it, so he could just take a look. You'd sing him pretty much anything asked, and what could possibly be more vulnerable than that song you wrote about Max that you shared with him a couple of weeks ago? Surely you wouldn't mind all that much. On the off chance you ever found out. Which, of course, you wouldn't- because he would put it right back where it was after just skimming it.

It's not Billy's fault your handwriting just looks so pretty and you're a poet without publication privileges- it would just be a waste if no one ever read your pretty musings written oftentimes to no one.

And still, he convinces himself again, that you would never know.

He gets up and studies the book to make sure he could put it back down at the right angle before picking it up, hands gentler than they have ever been- like he was touching his mother's precious crystal vase, a wedding gift that had been long lost to time in several moves across the sea and then the country.

He opens the notebook and immediately he can see how you've grown since this book was first picked up by your delicate hands. How your print has changed from beginning to almost end, the pages all wrinkled from spills and humidity and time.

How lucky, he thinks, to be chosen by you for this journey of your life. Why does he feel so much camaraderie for a book?

He skims the pages, delighted to see that it isn't just full of words but drawings too; the sweetest most delicate doodles of little things like your guitar or a flower here and there squeezed in amongst the words on the pages. The amount of talent one young woman could possess astounded him, it's shocking that it doesn't drip out of your every pore in the very black ink that you use to write. 

He can't help smiling a little to himself as he reads the scrawled titles and lyrics to songs he recognizes and he can practically hear your beautiful voice singing every word he's already heard.

'A boy who's nice that breathes- I swear, he's nowhere to be seen.'

That was the funnier song you sang to him those odd weeks ago, and just remembering the small laugh that fell from your lips as you sang the words makes him chuckle too as he reads it.

You had told him you wrote it with Sarah, and he could tell- based on the two distinctive styles of handwriting squeezed onto the small page.

He begins to realize as he flips through the pages of the small tattered notebook resting in his lap, that you had been dating the pages. Finished songs had dates of beginning and completion going back a little over a year, and he figures this must not be the first one you've gone through.

Billy comes to the near back of the notebook, as much as he would love to spend all day reading every word you'd ever translated turning your life into poetry or ballads of melodic storytelling, he knew his time was limited.

One song in particular catches his attention, though.

'So high that I am floating, So good that I'm out of my head. So low baby I was hurting, you made it better again.

Oh, we got caught in a moment, and I'll lay with you all night. So good that now I'm hoping you'll hold me down for life.

I adore, I adore, I adore you.'

The corners of his lips twitch up in a smile as he reads the words, scribbled out and rewritten several times in some places.

It's unfinished, but dated to have been started a couple of weeks ago. He remembers you had asked him what the date was that day, and saw you write it down as he answered- your hair falling over your face and brushing your shoulders as it shielded the book from his view.

A couple weeks ago.

And the drawing- oh, how his heart flutters in his chest so quickly it feels like his ribs have transformed into a sparrow's cage.

To Billy, it looked like him. He knew he must be thinking crazy, after all, it had been a while since he had had a proper look in a mirror, but it sure felt like he was right now- down to the little feathers on his hat and the shape of his cupid's bow. You had given yourself away with the scope of your artistic faith.

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of your voice, slightly hesitant as you stand in the entrance to the barn, he slams the book shut and jumps just about a foot in the air; a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"N-nothing! I just, it just- um..." It was still clutched in his hands, already weary of parting with the precious object of your affections. "It, um... It fell, and I- I just picked it up, and-"

When he looks up at you, you look mildly horrified; cheeks burning the same way his are and eyes blown wide like you had been the one who was caught doing something wrong.

Neither of you move, both frozen on the spot, terrified of the next words that might fall from the lips of the other.

You weren't about to incriminate yourself by asking in a shaky voice if he had read or looked at any of it, knowing he did, and he wasn't going to ask if that song or any others he skimmed (and wish he took more care reading) were about him like he hoped they were.

After a moment of staring at each other like both of you were hostages with guns to your head respectively, you both decide to make the first move at the exact same time. He quickly holds the book out to you at the very moment you reach out to take it, and the awkward exchange makes you want to curl up under the hay bale you were meant to sleep on and rot there.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[isaadore]

NH13 ✷ NICO HISCHIER MASTERLIST

IMAGINES & BLURBS

jacked and kind — 0.7k words

summary you convince nico to do a tiktok trend, even if it’s a little out of his comfort zone.

FICS

meet me by the lake — coming soon

summary you were always just a summer fling to nico. every year, he would shower you with attention and love, but by the end of the summer, he was gone. even though you know how it ends, you always return to him. but what happens when nico returns and confesses he wants a long-term relationship just as you're starting to move on with someone new?

everything you've wanted — 1.8k words

summary you and nico have been close for years, but when his christmas plans begin to spiral out of control, you can't help but wonder if he's missing what's most important right in front of him.

SERIES

✷ slim pickins — coming soon

summary when you were little, you believed there was someone for everyone: "the one," a soulmate, the person you were destined to spend your life with. but in your 20s, men quickly proved you wrong—that was until you met nico.

AUS

coming soon

SMAUS

coming soon

FEATURED IN

coming soon

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ MAIN MASTERLIST ✷ LAST UPDATED: JAN. 5TH, 2024

[whokilledleovaldez]

how stranger things characters would do the slim pickins trend

"a boy who's jacked and kind..."

Jonathan - would see someone doing it and immediately run over to Nancy to make her do it with him

Nancy - easily picks up Jonathan bc she's like that

Steve gets jealous and tries to make Robin do it with him. Robin refuses because she's not going die doing a Sabrina carpenter trend. (She goes to Nancy when Steve isn't looking to do it with her)

Lucas adds every video he can find of people doing it to his favourites so he can do it with Max when she wakes up. He goes to her hospital bed and tells her about how he's getting Hopper to teach him how to get buff.

Mike walks in on Will lifting el and gets mad. El's like "It's just...I wanted to this trend but you're...you" Mike's like "I could lift you." He would try to lift El and surprise surprise he can't. He goes on a long fitness journey with Lucas and Hopper, determined to be able to lift El. After a year of locking in, they finally get a good take. By the time Mike posts the video, the trend is dead and everyone is super confused.

Dustin whines about not being able to do it with Suzie because they are long-distance knowing full well he wouldn't be able to do it.

Hopper and Joyce smirk in Russian prison, Hawkins police and one-foot height difference.

[lothlorienlover]

Peter Sellers was originally going to ride the atom bomb in "Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb" (1964). Slim Pickens (born Louis Burton Lindley Jr.) got a phone call late one evening from Stanley Kubrick: "Peter has fallen and broken his hip, I need you for a day's shoot--I need you bad and I need you now. How soon can you get on a plane and make it to London?". Slim obliged and in his haste forgot that he didn't have a passport because he had never traveled outside the US before. His entrance was delayed while he had to go through the process of getting one before he was allowed to leave the airport. When Pickens showed up on the set of "Dr. Strangelove" fully dressed as a cowboy and speaking in a thick Southern accent, the British crew thought he was "Method" acting, not knowing that this was how he always dressed and acted. He explained how he got into the rodeo business: "Well, there was this big, lanky, 15-year-old California ranch kid, and he went into the rodeo manager's office and said, 'Mister, I want to sign up for the calf-roping but my paw says I ain't allowed to. So I can't use my right name'. And the manager said, 'Son, no matter what name you use, it'll be slim pickin's out there today'. So the boy said, 'That's as good a name as any, I reckon-put me down as Slim Pickin's'. The manager spelled it 'Pickens' and the boy won $400 that afternoon."

[galway-girlatwork]

written for @studioghibelli's writing challenge

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Mature-There is angst, fluff and smut if you squint really, really hard. 😊

Central Characters: Reader/Pena/Murphy

Central Relationship: Pena/Reader

Word Count: 3,478

AO3

Please do not copy or reblog my work without tagging me

Music inspiration: The Pretty Reckless

SUMMARY:

A tumultuous relationship with a fellow DEA agent, is marked by tension and unspoken feelings. Can a growing affection, mixed with reckless behavior, drugs, death, money and power, really survive? From Bogota, to Miami, to Rome, how far will it go?

A Broken Silence

As the last of the Cali Cartel fell, like little toy soldiers, she wondered what was next. She’d been down in Columbia, longer than she’d lived back in the states. It had taken years of dedication, long fucking days and even longer nights. Elise thought of the hundreds of people that had died, gotten hooked on blow and for what? Power and money. That was the root cause of it all, power and money. She’d been assigned to Columbia a year after she became DEA. They told her she’d be an asset, it turned out to be a load of shit. Women agents were looked at as glorified secretary’s but that was until she met Pena and Murphy. Pena looked at her like a piece of meat, Murphy actually used her intelligence to their advantage. Did she ever actually make it into the field? Yep, as an undercover hooker, Pena’s idea of course. His exact words to her, as she stood there in a slinky red dress was, she had a body, might as well use it. That was the first time she hit him. The second time was when he drunk on whiskey and made a pass at her.

The three of them had been working together for a year before she realized she actually cared about Pena. She’d been sitting in her car, in the parking lot of the embassy when she saw him pull in, a gangly female crawling out of the passenger seat, as he got out, pressing herself against him, her tongue half way down his throat, his hand on her tit. Part of her wanted to vomit, part of her wanted to punch the whore. She knew the woman was a whore, those were the only types of women Pena seemed to be interested in. It was that afternoon, the dynamic of the relationship changed between them because she realized she’d been jealous and the only reason a woman was jealous was because she wanted him. She wanted all of him but knew it would never happen. Her attitude towards him went from indifference to straight up bitch, Murphy snickering every time she went for a kill. By the time Escobar was riddled with bullets, Pena hated her with a passion, which he made clear before he was sent to DC, Murphy back to Florida and she was right back where she started, glorified secretary.

A month later she had been re-assigned, working with some head honcho on the Cali cartel and the intel needed to break up their little surrender deal they had going, cringing inward when a jean clad hip, found the edge of her desk.

“Well, well, seems something is working out for me, how’s is shaken Tanner?” “Are you fucking serious right now Pena? I am working with you? Again? Can someone please tell me who I pissed off in a past life?” “Probably the devil himself hermosa.”

“Don’t, don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Come in here thinking I won’t deck you for bein a polla.”

“Whoa, Spanish is improving.” 

“Get the hell off my desk Pena and go find yourself a whore. I’m sure there were slim pickins in D.C.”

“You offering?”

“Vete al infierno.”

“Already there babe.”

Getting off her desk, he went into his office, slamming the door, watching the glass rattle before he threw himself in the chair behind his desk. Fuck, he thought Elise would have been stateside by now, along with Murphy but as luck would have it, she was here to torment him. It was hard seeing her right now, needing to focus on Cali but he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Fuck she was still beautiful and her temper gave her skin a glow that most women he knew would kill for. Closing his eyes, he remembered all the nights he thought of her. Imagining his hands twisted in thick, curly brown hair, looking into eyes so brown, they were almost black, as he slid into her, marking her as his. He not only wanted her but had fallen in love with her. He wasn’t sure when it happened or how but he realized it the day he had been shipped to D.C. thinking his career was over, sitting in an airport bar with Murphy. Murphy knew it and told him to do something about it before it was too late. He’d laughed it off before giving his partner a hug, both of them going their separate ways. Well God had a sense of humor, he thought as he walked in, seeing her sitting there in jeans and a t-shirt, chewing on a pencil as she read the file on her desk. Yea he was so screwed and not in the way that made him want a drink and a smoke.

The next six months were unbearable, her nerves frazzled when it was all over, thrilled when they gave her a month before she was going to her next post in Miami. Just because Cali fell in Columbia didn’t mean the drug trafficking did, since it was still all about power and money. What was that saying, he who dies with the most toys wins? Well, these bastards were gonna make sure they had all the toys and more.

Sitting on a bar stool, surrounded by co-workers, they celebrated with food and drinks, the beer and tequila flowing freely, except for Pena, who leaned more towards whiskey.

“To victory,” Javi toasted, his eyes lingering on Elise longer than necessary.

“To victory,” she echoed, smiling, but there was a wistfulness in her eyes that Javi couldn’t decipher. As the night wore on, one drink led to another to another and before she could stop and form thought, she found herself in Pena’s apartment, passion flaring between them like an arc of lighting. His lips found the base of her throat, suckling at the skin and come morning, it would be a purple blossom of broken blood vessels. Fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt before she grabbed the sides, yanking as hard as she could, buttons pinging to the floor before they moved to his belt. She wanted him knowing in the morning she’d be gone. One night wouldn’t kill her, right?

Fuck, he thought, as he yanked her t-shirt off her frame, breasts held in place by a wisp of lace, was this really fucking happening right now? Her skin was warm and soft beneath his hands as he undid the button on her jeans, hand sliding into the waistband, his mind focused on one thing, and he almost died right there as he slid his fingers into her depths, feeling how wet she was. God fucking damn he wanted her, laid out in his bed, beneath him, his body marking her as his.

She moaned against his mouth as his fingers slid into her, the pad of his thumb against her clit, every nerve over firing, sending dopamine coursing through her, limbs melting from one feeling to another until they were both naked, not remembering if they had even stopped kissing at this point. He was rough with her, one hand tangled in her hair while the other slid under her knee, teeth nipping at her earlobe. Reaching between them, hand wrapping around the thickness of his cock, she positioned him at her entrance, his name a whisper into the space between them.

That was all it took for his control to snap like a rubber band wound too tight and he slammed into her. He held still for all of thirty seconds before he lost control, hips bucking against her like teenager having sex for the first time. She was warm, wet, tight, her skin sweet on the tip of his tongue as he dragged it across one nipple before moving on to the other, lips attached themselves to the skin of her collar bone, sucking on it, knowing he would mark her there just as he did to the left side of her neck. He knew some thought hickies were tacky but he didn’t give a fuck. When she walked the streets of Columbia, he wanted everyone to know she was taken. He pulled out of her so violently, he wondered if he’d hurt her, but that thought was fleeting as he flipped her over, bringing her to her knees, fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her back, sliding into her with no remorse for the brutality of it. He was feeding his soul with her body and she was allowing it. He exploded violently within her as her orgasm hit, her walls clenching around his hardness made it impossible not to, his name screamed out into the sex filled air surrounding them. Arms wrapped around her, his chest against her back, holding onto her for a moment before he left go, collapsing on his back.

Her body had a mind of its own at this point, falling on her side, facing him, watching as he took in deep gulps of air. He turned to look at her, eyes making contact, it was like they had just seen each other for the first time and there was something so intense in his stare and she felt it within her soul, feeling as if he knew everything about her and still wanted her, wondering if he actually cared, if all the hate fueled words he’d thrown at her, was a façade. She shook her head, displacing those thoughts as she moved over him, wondering how many more times they could lose themselves in the moment before dawn streaked across the sky of Columbia.

He woke up to an empty bed, reaching out, only to find Elise’s side cold. Panic surged through him as he saw a note on the pillow.

*Javi, 

Watch your back. Be safe. 

Elise.*

Fuck, he thought, as his heart sank, crumbling the note and throwing it across the room. He’d never been good with words, especially when it came to expressing feelings. He’d cared for Elise, but kept that buried, not wanting emotions involved because they were a distraction in the dangerous world they’d been living in. But now, that time was up down here, he realized he couldn’t let her go and now he had to find her.

Finding her hadn’t been as easy as he thought it would be. By the time he got cleaned up and to the embassy, he found out that everything was being sent to the field office in Miami, her next assignment. He wasn’t due to leave Bogota for another week. By the time he got to Miami, his nerves were on fire, feeling like he was always just one step behind her. She’d checked in with the field office but twenty-four hours later, she’d gone on vacation and no one knew where, all they could tell him is she wasn’t due back to the office for a month. Where the fuck could she go for a month?

It took him two days and breaking protocol, something he did with ease; to find out she was in Rome. How the fuck was he going to find her there? He’d never been to Rome and no idea where to start. That was when he broke into her new apartment, searching for any clue and found just the name of a museum, Galleria Borghese. What the fuck was he doing, chasing some woman across the fuckin world? This was out of character for him, he was the fuck em, use em, kick em to the curb kind of man but now he was standing at a ticket counter, passport in hand, heading to Italy.

Everything she’d done since she landed were things she did on the fly. There was no rhyme or reason to where she went, how she spent her days, just happy to be away from drugs and death. Don’t get her wrong, she loved her job but Columbia had taken a lot out of her and she needed time to breathe, to find herself again. But her thoughts kept drifting back to Javi. The night they shared had been everything she had ever wanted, and yet, she knew it was impossible. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d come here instead of staying close to home. Maybe she was running and didn’t even know it. Maybe she was just a tad crazy about a man who went through women like he did cigarettes.

She wandered around Rome, trying to take in what was around her from Vatican City, to The Colosseum, every art museum and tonight to the Trevi Fountain. She’d learned that it was best to go at night, the crowds were not as bad and to make sure she threw three coins into to the water. Gelato in hand, she was standing at the edge of the fountain, the white marble still warm from the sun that had beat down on it from the day. Even she had to admit that it was beautiful and again that is when her mind went back to Javi. Fuck, why the hell did she had to be in love with that man? He was more a man of action, not of words. She had seen him break hearts before, and knew she was just another casualty.

The Trevi Fountain loomed ahead, Javi been all over the tourist places and had come up empty. He was frustrated, pissed and was beginning to wonder if he should just go back home and wait however there was one small problem, he was not a patient man, anyone who worked with him could tell ya that much. When he reached the fountain, the third time he’d been there, the coins glinted at the bottom, knowing each one was a wish, a hope and without a coin to toss in, he couldn’t help but think about his own wish, to find Elise. He was too stubborn, refusing to go back and wait. That was when he saw her, sitting at the very edge of the fountain, rubbing fingers over his eyes to make sure it really was her. About fuckin time, he thought, as he watched her throw a single coin over her shoulder. He moved towards her, pushing his way through the crowd, ignoring annoyed mutters and sharp glares of the other tourists he jostled aside. He was less than a foot away from her before he stopped, “What did you wish for?”

Shock couldn’t even begin to describe the look on her face when she saw him standing there, asking what she’d wished for. He looked out of place among the tourists and well everything that Rome was but his eyes were intense, filled with determination, a look she’d seen before when they were in Columbia. “Javi what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I came for you.”

“Why? My assignment in Columbia is over, so is yours so I am a little confused as to again why you’re here.”

Grabbing her hand, he began tugging her away from the fountain, looking for someplace where they could talk, finding a doorway, he pushed her back against the old, faded brick, kissing her, tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting lemon against her lips before he pulled away from her. “Why the fuck did you leave Bogota without saying goodbye?”

“Wait you came all the way to fuckin Italy to ask me that? Are you insane?”

“No. Yes. Fuck. I came here because I didn’t realize until I woke up to an empty bed, a fucking note, and you gone, that I love you.”

“You have lost your mind. Javi please don’t do this because I seriously can’t handle it. I’ve seen you with other women, I’ve seen you use them, hell I’ve seen you break them, and I can’t be just another one in a long line of em.”

“You’re not,” he said. “You’re not just another one of them. Te quiero hermosa.”

“Yea heard you say that a time or two. Look, what happened that night, it was, and this is not to feed your ego, was amazing but I am also not stupid. I can’t take the chance that this is nothing more than a fling and, in the end, the only one picking up the pieces is me as you move on to whoever can give you intel on whatever big bad you’re chasing.”

“God you fucking talk too much.” He kissed her again, hands wrapping in the thickness of her hair, before he nipped his way to her shoulder, teeth and lips, digging into the curve of muscle and sinew, suckling until he heard her gasp, her fingers digging into his hips. The tip of his tongue ran over the red mark on her skin, knowing he marked again, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Now every man in Rome will know that you belong to me.”

“I am not a possession Javier Pena.”

“Fuck I didn’t mean it that way. God damn it, Elise. No one is fuckin perfect but I’m standing in the middle of a fucking country I’ve never been to, chasing you around the globe wanting you, no one else, why can’t you see that?”

She stood frozen for a moment, eyes wide with shock, his words hitting her like the tidal wave crashing over her. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out, “Because I don’t want to be hurt, can’t you understand that? I’ve been in love with you, all this time and there is a part of me that wants you too, to love all the parts you are. Demanding, possessive, passionate, asshole, dedicated. The risk? Of this? Of believing you want me this much is something I don’t know how to handle.”

“It’s not going to be cut and dry baby. It ain’t like intel where you dissect it all. Just feel it.” He took a deep breath, frustration giving away to relief, stepping closer, eyes locking onto hers. “I get it hermosa, never been down this road before with anyone. Scared shitless that I’ll fuck it up but let’s try to see where this goes.”

Feeling the warmth of his body against her, hearing all the words, let’s be honest, every woman wants to hear, “Okay,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Something in the back of her mind was telling her this was a mistake, of the highest, but fuck it, she thought, because she didn’t want to be that person who turns a hundred and has regrets. Fingers tugged on the belt loops of his jeans, she pulled him closer, tongue tracing the outline of his jugular, skin tangy with the salt of his sweat.

His breath caught as she pulled him closer, feeling her mouth against his throat. “I just want to get away from all of this. Just you and me, away from the crowds, from everything. I want to be alone with you, beneath me. Fuck we need to go now or I am going to take you against this building and we’re getting arrested.”

As dawn began to creep along the city, fingers pinched her nipples as she straddled him, hips rolling in circles, his cock buried deep within her body, he pulled her down to him, lips hard and demanding against hers, devouring her orgasm as his spilled into her depths, her heartbeat erratic against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

His name was whispered breathlessly, her voice trembling with the aftermath of their orgasms, feeling his embrace tighten around her, hands now trailing down her back, she pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, a soft smile playing on her lips as she rolled off of his body, laying on her side. “Didn’t get much sleep last night. We should stay in today, order room service.”

Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her towards him, a hand cupping her breast, nipple still erect beneath his palm. “I don’t think I will ever get enough of you hermosa, so I am in agreement with you on that. Te amo.”

“Yo también te quiero, cariño.”

“Getting better with the Spanish.”

“Been practicing.”

Fuck, he thought, hearing his native language fall from her lips, he was in deep with her and it was a realization that hit him with a force of a hurricane, watching her as her eyes drifted closed, breathing steady as she fought staying awake, losing the battle. How the fuck had he fallen for her? He, who had always kept emotions in check, as he whored his way through Bogota, taking down drug cartels, not wanting involvement. Figured he would be scared out of his fucking mind but he wasn’t. The last thought he had before sleep claimed him? How he could get re-assigned to Miami.

[renren-006]

Original Masterlist!

Started: 7-29-22 Updated: 1-1-2025

Story count: 73

❀Stories❀:

(*** Means it is a requested story)

Ryan Gosling✧

ONE SHOTS

Officer K

Heart of Gold

Driver

Get Away Driver

unworthy goodbyes

Sebastian Wilder

La vie en Rose

Sierra Six/Court Gentry

Double Trouble ***

Turning Tides ***

Rematch ***

Prince Charming ***

Protection Squad ***

Homework Problems ***

Polaroid

The Spy Next Door ***

Jealous Reader ***

SONG INSPIRED

Sierra Six/ Court Gentry

Loved *** (You Are Loved by Taylor Swift)

SMUT

Sierra Six/Court Gentry

Far Away

All you had to do was ask

Shy Boy ***

Ethan Hunt✧

ONE SHOTS

Promises

Reckoning ***

Lazy Saturdays ***

Falling in Love in France ***

Complete ***

Fallowing Along

Guard Dog ***

Daryl Dixon✧

ONE SHOT

Jealousy ***

Prisoner and Savior

Sunshine Optimist

"I Know"

Savior

Over the Years

Rainy Night Kisses

Y'all Didn't Know? ***

Gates

Angel ***

Helmets and Leather Jackets ***

DRABBLE

Keep her Safe.

KHS pt. 1

KHS pt. 2

SMUT

The Hearts Want

After

ABC

Henry Cavil ✧

ONE SHOTS

Geralt Of Rivera

Sleepovers

Wounds and Kisses ***

Preference ***

Clark Kent / Superman

Photo Worthy

Lucious Verus ✧

ONE SHOT

Familiar Eyes

Emperor Lucius

Doctors Magic

MARVEL:

IMAGINS:

Bucky and Steve:

The boys comforting you about your ex

Wanda✧

ONE SHOT

Magnets

Love Knot

I Knew you in another life

Red Strings (Visualising)

Bucky✧

ONE SHOT

Car Troubles

The Book

RAMBLE

Remember

SONG INSPIRED

Pickin Boys (Slim Pickings by Sabrina Carpenter )

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield)✧

ONE SHOT

Skyscraper

Steve Rogers

ONE SHOT

Reading Nook(Visualization)

DRABBLE

Time

MORE: Bruce Wayne✧

ONE SHOT

The Love of a Bat

No More Secrets

Jeffry Dean Morgan✧

Negan

ONE SHOTS

Prisoner and Savior

To Love and Trust

SERIES:

Love Lost

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3?

John Winchester

ONE SHOT

Hunt

Dean Winchester✧

DRABBLES

Deans Playlist

ONE-SHOTS

Fezco✧

ONE SHOT

Anger and Love ***

You Did a Bad Thing Twice ***

Theseus Scamander ✧

SMUT

Magic Hands ***

JJ Maybank✧

ONE SHOT

Bruises

Alicent Hightower✧

ONE SHOT

From the Castle Walls

Draco Malfoy✧

ONE SHOT

Taken