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pedgito · 5 months ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 | dbf!Joel Miller x reader

summary | you're stranded, you need help—of course, Joel Miller is your savior.

content warning | listen. i wrote this in 3 hours, idk what to say. i had a thot and it went from there. its completely p w/o p, dbf!joel, age gap, moodboard is for aesthetic and reader is mostly not described aside from hair long enough to be put up, unhinged popsicle eating, eye-fucking, public-ish unprotected p in v car sex. listen i'm on my period rn don't look at me and thank you for my love, my twin, @chaotic-mystery for constantly supporting my gremlin behavior

word count — 3.2k

Out of all the people you had the chance of running into—of course it was Joel.

The chances were slim, but not impossible. You knew his work schedule well enough, similar to that of your fathers. He worked early mornings into the late evening, taking his commute home just as the sun was starting to set.

You gripped the gas can in one hand as you made your way down the side road, the other hand placed over your eyes like a visor to block the sun away. You didn’t even have a cell signal out here, so the walk seemed fruitless.

But, you had to find a gas station.

You thought you could make it home, which was clearly poor judgment, and the hair falling from the haphazardly tied knot on top of your head was sticking to your neck, eyes squinting as the truck pulled up next to you.

“Now, darlin’—the hell are you doin’ out here in the middle of nowhere?” Joel asks, the blast of AC hitting you in the face as he rolls down the window, arm leaned over the console as he looked you over.

It was clear you’ve been out here longer than you should and Joel doesn’t even take a second to hesitate before he’s popping the handle on the passenger door and inviting you inside the cooler cabin of his truck.

“Where are you comin’ from?” He asks, shifting the truck into drive before he rests his palm over the gear shift.

“A friend, I thought I had enough gas to make it home but,” You shrug, waving vaguely at your car parked on the side of the road as he drives by.

What took a fifteen minute walk to where Joel had picked you up was only a minute or so drive back. Joel looks at you wearily and turns up the AC, blasting the stray hairs away from your face but the immediate burst of cold feels like absolute heaven.

“Grab a water out of my cooler, sweetheart,” He gestures with a thumb over his shoulder and you scramble, leaning over the center console with your ass popped up in the air.

Joel assumed it had to have been a pool party, the skirt covering your bottom half doing nothing to hide the thin, strappy bikini bottoms you wore underneath.

Joel doesn’t mean to stare, but he’s worried that you might hurt yourself, his hand reaching out to wrap around your calf in an effort to keep you steady.

A subtle smirk plays at the corner of your mouth as you reach for the water inside the cooler and pop your head back up, your ass grazing his hand on the way down as you twist back into your seat.

Little touches were never a big thing with you two, normal and constant and nothing unusual.

A hand on your shoulder at family cookouts, his hands engulfing yours as he popped open the cap on your beer, a squeeze of his hand at the back of your neck when he hugged you after a month or two of not seeing you around your father’s house due to college or work, whatever was keeping you so busy. He didn’t try to pry, but you’ve been around less and less with each passing summer—so this unsuspecting time with you, he didn’t mind. It was nice.

Really nice.

You twist at the cap and take a drink of the water, so thirsty that it starts to drip out of your mouth, a small droplet down your chin, reaching your chest and down the center of your breasts.

“It ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Joel jokes, squinting his eyes as he hides the growing grin on his face with his usual frown.

“Sorry, being out in that heat like that…” You take a breath, recalling the bottle and putting it in the drink holder, “I just feel so stupid for thinking I could make it.“

When the street lights come into view, you know you're closer to actual civilization. And, just as Joel takes a right on the next intersection you stop at, there it was.

“It happens,” Joel comforts, “but you were lucky I was drivin’ home—can’t even think about what could have happened if I didn’t pass by.”

Joel pulls into the gas station and turns off the ignition.

“Well,” You flash a bright smile, squeezing at his shoulder—he’s got on a dark shirt plastered with the logo of the construction company he worked for, faded and slightly damp from his own sweat, “you did and I’m thankful for it, Joel.”

“Hand it over,” Joel motions toward the gas can, “I’ll fill ‘er up for you.”

“Joel, you don’t have to—“

Joel tilts his head toward the gas can at your feet, eyebrows raised and hand held out expectantly.

“Just hand it over.”

You sigh softly and relent, reaching between your legs to grab the plastic jug, knowing of the eyes that drag down your spine from the open back of your top, tied just as your neck and the side of your breasts spilling out of your swim top.

Joel knows a snag, just a simple hook of his fingers would send them spilling out into the cool air, nipples perked up under the mesh fabric of your top and—

“Joel.”

Joel’s eyes pull up suddenly, his face flushed but he’s lucked out by the redness of hot, summer heat on his face.. He clears his throat and grabs the gas can.

“Be right back,” He tells you, “stay put, alright?”

“And where would I go?” You retort playful, “I’m sure you’d find me again anyways.”

Joel chuckles to himself with a shake of his head as he departs into the store, handing a ten to the clerk before he takes a quick glance back at you, fanning yourself with your hand and chugging down another swig of water.

“Actually,” Joel pauses for a moment, holding a finger up as he lingers down the aisle toward the freezer and grabs out two popsicles, hoping that would quell some of the heat, even if for a moment—plus, he knew you had quite the sweet tooth, “there, just put whatever’s left on the pump and I’ll use that to fill it up.”

The clerk nods and scans the items, handing Joel off the receipt and he’s half jogging back toward his truck—quick to toss you the keys and the two popsicle’s he’d bought.

“What is this?” You ask cheerfully, eyes lighting up as they plopped into your lap.

Joel kept the driver's side open as he filled up the gas can, watching as you peeled eagerly at the popsicle, the red dye immediately dripping down your fingers as you pulled away the plastic.

“Just throw it on the floorboard—I’ll clean it up later,” Joel notes as you look around, placing the lid back on the gas can before climbing back into the truck, “you mind openin’ mine?”

You place the cherry flavored popsicle between your lips with an eagerness that forces Joel to look away, the sound of you peeling away plastic in his ear as he pulls out of the gas station and makes his way back toward your car.

“Thank you, baby,” He says casually—not all that odd either, he’s got a million nicknames for you, some trickier to let slip around others but there was an unspoken agreement. You never minded, never cared.

He was only ever Joel to you and he didn’t mind that either.

“Of course,” You smile, before dragging your tongue along the bottom of the popsicle and back up, sinking it back between your lips.

Joel just bites at it, not one to savor things very often.

You giggle and roll your eyes, the popsicle tip just as the edge of your lips before Joel is looking over at you curiously, ignoring the red stain of popsicle on your tongue as it peeks out.

“What?”

“Just—you’re not even trying to enjoy it, Joel.”

“It’s meant to be eaten, right?”

“It’s hot—it’s a cold treat, you’re supposed to make it last a little. Come on,” You hold the popsicle out for demonstration before licking up the side, sinking your lips back down in a show that was more for yourself, knowing how he constantly looked at you—if Joel chokes on the bite of flavored ice in his mouth you don’t see it.

It wasn’t a secret, how he looked at you. It’s been a few years since you left for college and teetering that line, nearing your mid-twenties now it seemed like it had only gotten more and more obvious. Joel’s never made his own advances aside from the one time your drunken state made you a little too confident, sliding between his legs at one of your family parties late at night, pressing a kiss right against his lips that ended far too quickly.

He did kiss you back though, you do remember that.

“Alright, alright,” Joel waves his hand at you nonchalantly, “you can cut that out.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the sticky sweet juice slip down your fingers as the popsicle starts to melt, nearly finished as Joel had already downed his own.

“I’m just eating the popsicle,” You brush him off, “that you bought me—“

“You know what I’m talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

You do, but that half second of lingering pause makes Joel worry he has read the situation completely wrong.

“What? Do you not like it?” You tease him, “Doesn’t it turn you on, Joel?”

You finish up the last bit before tucking the stick into the plastic and back on the ground, suddenly realizing the red dye had stained the front of your top, causing a frown to form on your face as you rubbed at the material.

“Shit,” You curse, ignoring the heated look on Joel’s face at your words, practically oblivious with the sudden distraction. You pull at the tie on the back of your top and bunch up the fabric as you stuff it between your lap, meeting Joel’s half-dumbstruck look as he tries to keep his eyes on the road but also can’t draw his eyes away from you, “what—I got it all over my shirt?”

Joel pulls to the side of the road in an instant, forcing the truck into park, “What are you playin’ at?”

You look at him with confusion, narrowing your eyes.

“What? Why did you pull over?”

“What are the chances of me findin’ you out here? On this road?” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, “Hm?”

You feign innocence for a few seconds before you cave, smiling with a devilish glint, resting your chin in your hand as you lean against the center console, your bikini top doing nothing to cover the plump of your breasts as the press against the fabric.

“Well, I mean—I figured they were pretty likely but—“

“Is your car even out of gas?”

You chew at your bottom lip thoughtfully, eyes tilting upwards in thought—truth…lie.

Joel seemed set on getting the truth. So, you give it to him.

“No, but I had you going, didn’t I?”

Joel is silent for too long and you raise your eyebrows in question before Joel reaches forward, tugging at the lever under his seat to send him scooting back.

“Come here,” It’s simple. An instruction.

But the look on his face—the intimidation shakes you to your core.

“Now, don’t back off,” Joel challenges, “it’s what you wanted, right?”

“As if you don’t want it either,” You counter, “you’ve been eye-fucking me since I got in your truck.”

Joel doesn’t even deny it, only waits. A simple nod of his head in a gesture for you to climb over and into his lap.

So, you do.

His hands immediately find your thighs and push up the denim skirt, your own hands resting at your sides as you scoot until your cunt is pressed up against the hard line of his zipper, the denim of his jeans so sensitive against your bare skin, feeling like all your senses were dialed up.

“We do this,” Joel starts, “there’s no going back. So, I need you to think if you really want this or—“

You surge forward, forcing the back of his head into the headrest as you swallow his words in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues clashing with the taste of sugary sweetness.

“Gotta be quick,” Joel tells you, his words lost on deaf ears as your hands drag down his front, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne, the ironic freshness despite having worked in the heat all day, “can I fuck you, baby? S’that too much to ask?”

You shake your head, peppering soft kisses against his lips, along his jaw, feeling his fingers reach for each tie at your hips and pull, his hand immediately sliding over your cunt, cupping you with the warmth of his palm.

“Get it out, baby—got my hands a little busy right now.”

The heat in his words makes your pussy clench, but your hands move even faster, dragging over the front of his jeans and pulling at the zipper swiftly and Joel lifts his hips enough to get them down his thighs but that was it, hissing at the instant your hand closes around his cock.

“You got a problem with me fuckin’ you like this?” Joel asks, a true gentleman, but you roll your eyes. “Don’t even know why I asked—you’ve been beggin’ for it.”

You tilt your head, smiling at him playfully before you lick at your fingers and taste the remaining sticky sugar before pressing them along the center of your cunt, mixed with the already growing slick—Joel nudges at your entrance as you watch, the tip of his cock notched against your hole and your pussy quivers with the anticipation as he drags his cock up, down, up, before sliding in all at once.

It’s slow, but intense. Your eyes close, brow drawing together as he pulls you further and further down his cock.

“Open,” He breathes out, “open your eyes and look at how you’re takin’ me, baby.”

You blink quickly, grabbing onto his bicep for purchase as you look down, his hands squeezing at the tops of your thighs as he admired, watching the way his cock has you on the edge of near tears—a mix of overwhelming emotion and intense sensation.

Joel pulls at your top gently and it falls without much struggle, he bunches the material up and tosses it aside with your bottoms, massaging the swell of your tits under his palms as you rock your hips slowly, hearing the soft grunt behind his closed lips as you lean into his touch.

Flicking his thumb over your nipples, he admires the way the nubs hardered, like he’d imagine earlier—he tries not to dwell on how you both got here, like it wasn’t years of built up tension finally crumbling underneath you both.

“Don’t be shy,” He tells you, “take whatever you need, baby.”

As does he, leaning forward to press his lips against your breast, tongue lapping over the pert nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, drawing a soft sigh out of you.

You lift your hips, in time with the hand of his own that drops to your side to quicken your pace, “Wanna take my time with you but we can’t,” Joel admits, “gotta get home.”

You nod, knowing he had his own responsibilities as a father—you don’t argue, placing your hands against the headrest and raising your hips nearly off of his cock before sinking back down quickly, keeping that pace for as long as your body will allow, shared breaths into each others mouth as he hands travel from your tits to your face, the largeness of his palms engulfing your face as he brings his lips to your mouth again, again, soft whispers of words you know he doesn’t mean. Promises you know are fleeting and easy to break.

You couldn’t be with him, but you would take whatever this is.

“Just like that, baby,” He murmurs, grunting harshly into your ear as you tuck your head into his neck, his hand buried into the hair at the back of your head as you sink down onto his cock desperately, crying out into the side of his throat as he snaps his hips roughly, hitting so deep inside of you it makes you clench, biting down gently on his skin, “I feel it, I felt it.”

You snake your hand between your legs, finding your clit quickly and rubbing over the swollen nub, and Joel can tell by the neediness in your tone, moans broken into his skin as he fucks into you, haphazardly scanning the road for any passing cars—but he knew this place was always deserted, a shitty road that no one ever took.

Not even you, but today—it wasn’t a coincidence.

“That’s right, baby,” Joel sighs, head thrown back as he groaned out, “gon’ let me use this pussy, yeah?”

You nod instinctively, willing to agree with whatever Joel asked.

“Wanna fill her up,” Joel admits, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, head tilted down slightly to meet your eyes, “that alright, darlin’?”

You nod again, but coherent this time.

He loosens the reins completely by then, practically hauling you over his shoulder as he pounds into you, encourage the hand on your clit as he squeezes a handful of your ass under his palm, marking the skin with a few firm slaps that has you moaning out loudly into the sacred space of the truck.

“Joel, please—“ You gasp, “I’m gonna—right there,”

“I know, baby. I know.” He says softly, but the strain in his voice is obvious, groaning through clenched teeth as your orgasm crests, warmth spreading as you gush over his cock, the momentary bliss of sensation making your forget where you were, suddenly wishing that this had been a little less impulsive, wondering how Joel would treat you within the walls of his bedroom, buried in the sheets of his bed.

When Joel comes, it’s intense. His hands squeezing at your waist hard, his hips jerking out of rhythm as he stills you, coming inside of you with a deep groan, pulling you in for a frenzied kiss, laughing at how your faces uncoordinatedly press together, your nose smushed against his own and he kisses at the tip of your own as you pull away, his hair messier than when you started from your insistent grabbing and pulling during the heat of your orgasm.

He looked a complete mess, actually.

“You okay?” He asks after a long pause, his hand rubbing at your back, cock still buried inside you on the side of an empty road.

“Mhm,” You nod drearily.

“Baby, you gotta drive home now.” He tells you and you know—it doesn’t make it any easier, though. “Don’t pull this shit again, alright?”

If he’d see it any other way you would have flinched, but it was soft and comforting—not a warning.

“You need somethin’, you come knockin’ on my door.”

And you know he means it.

“Okay, I will.”

“Swear,” That was an order, “I need to hear it.”

“I swear.” You reply quietly.

Joel doesn’t push you away, though.

If anything, he savors the few moments he has in this dreamy afterglow, a taste of what could be—but you both know never will.

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #dbf!joel

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heart4gyu · 7 months ago

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wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

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romanovthinkver · 6 months ago

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What about Nat taking you for the first time, being soft and careful but losing control for a bit and filling you up to the brim 🥴

sorry for the wait anon, i needed to get rid of my uni things, but here we go! it came out longer than i imagined, hope you enjoy either way!

warnings: sex scenes, dom/sub dynamic, g!p nat, daddy!nat, p in v, gxg, breeding, blowjob, fingering, orgasm, age gap, dirty talks.

daddy! nat was a completely a soft bear during your first time. you weren’t nothing but an inexperienced little virgin thing and natasha was this older woman who clearly had lots of sex in the past.

she took so much care of everything. the bed had towels for the eventuality of blood loss, bottles of water were lined up on the bedside table, the room was in the right temperature, a hand towel ready to wipe you off and she already set items ready for the aftercare. everything was under her control and ready to assure every of your comfort.

wet, needy and ready you were on her big bed being eaten and stretched out for the first time, at every whimper of discomfort natasha would softly hush you and press a kiss on your thighs. she was slow, lovely, giving you time to process and let her taste you in the most delicate ways.

natasha could’ve swear she would have been happy to die between your milky thighs with her mouth and fingers deep inside you, the sweet taste of your juices tempting and the most sinful sounds rolling off your tongue were driving the older woman drunk and lustful.

she was there with you, living the moment, living the passion, living the love flowing between you. starting to memorise your body that eventually became her favourite place to be, to mark, to own.

her knee sunk into the bed and while you were worshipping her plump breasts, she was jerking herself off with grunts and moans. your pussy was soaked thanks to the two orgasms she already gave you.

she shifted both of you on the bed, her back propped up against a mountain of pillows on the bed. fully naked, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. her breath came in shallow gasps as natasha watched you, who was positioned between her legs.

natasha’s cock was standing erect and ready as you leaned closer, breath hot against the warm flesh. you kissed the tip hesitating, lips soft and teasing. your daddy eyes fluttered closed momentarily, a low groan escaping her lips.

“oh, bunny,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire.

your tongue darted out, feeling bolder to giving the tip a series of playful kitty licks looking up at the redhead for guidance which was immediately given as big veiny hands found their way into your curls, gently tugging to guiding your movements.

“look at me, baby girl,” natasha commanded, her voice firm yet tender. you obeyed, gaze locking with her and slowly taking the cock in your mouth starting with just the tip, tongue swirling around it before starting to take more, inch by inch like a drug.

the woman’s hips bucked involuntarily, desperate to thrust deeper into your wet and welcoming mouth, hands tightened in your hairs, trying to maintain control. “take it all, bunny. I want you to take every inch.”

your eyes filled eventually with tears as the cock reached the back of the throat, but you didn’t pull away because you wanted to make your daddy proud, so you relished the sensation of pleasing her, the power and submission blending into a heady mix that made your own body tingle with arousal. bobbing head, cheeks hollowing as you sucked, tongue working the length of the massive venous cock.

natasha’s breathing grew ragged, her moans louder and more desperate. “fuck–you’re amazing, baby girl. just like that.” her fingers twisted in your hairs holding you in place firmly.

you could feel the twitching of the prick as the heavy balls of the woman prepared to release its contents, you redoubled efforts, mouth moving faster, eyes never leaving natasha’s. the connection between you was electric, the intensity almost overwhelming.

“daddy needs you to swallow, bunny,” natasha growled, her hips trembling with the effort to stay still, she was so close and only god knows how she wanted to pin you down and fuck your mouth with mercy. “can you do that for me?”

you nodded as best you could, eyes filled with determination and devotion. with one final, deep thrust, natasha released her load, filling your mouth with the warm, sticky cum. you gagged slightly but quickly composed yourself, swallowing every drop as your daddy had commanded.

the redhead whole body shuddered with pleasure as she watched you. “that’s my good girl. you took it so well, baby.” pulling you up for a kiss, your mouths meeting in a passionate, messy collision. the taste of the cum was still on your lips, and natasha licked it off, savoring the flavor.

"you're so beautiful, baby," natasha murmured against your lips. she kissed her way down to your body again and her thumb found your clit, teasing your folds. you moaned softly, body arching towards the woman.

natasha made sure you was wet enough, she was so worried to hurt you like you were made of glass. patting the tip of her cock against her pussy and brushing the tip gently over her entrance, she breathed softly "are you ready, my little one?.”

you nodded with eyes filled with trust and need. "yes, daddy. please."

the redhead positioned herself and slowly pushed the tip inside you, inch by inch, ensuring you didn't feel too much pain, her lips found yours in a slow, sweet kiss, muffling your mutual groans of pleasure and then finally she bottomed fully inside you.

"you're doing so well, princess," she praised, her voice tender and head resting on your neck, you were so warm and tight and natasha was already on the brick of blowing. she kissed you softly while you gripped at her back with nails digging in slightly.

natasha, once sure the pain went away, began to thrust gently, setting a slow and intimate pace. each movement was filled with love and adoration, her hips moving rhythmically against yours. "you feel so good, bunny. so perfect.”

you whimpered, body trembling with pleasure and need for more. "daddy! oh–more, more. please!”

natasha increased her pace gradually, her thrusts becoming more intense. "fuck–baby, i need to cum inside of you. i need to fill you up, sweet girl. daddy needs to claim you." she continued to move, her body pressed intimately against yours until she felt the climax building.

with a final thrust, the redhead released the cum inside your warm pussy, humping softly to ensure it stayed within you. "take it all, princess. you're so good for me," natasha praised, her voice full of pride and affection.

foreheads touching, breath ragged and sweet smiles painted your lips and bodies locked close, natasha caressed your hair, kissed you gently, and whispered sweet nothings. "you're my everything, bunny. you did so well," her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

she kissed you deeply again and again. your connection building stronger than ever, as you held each other close, the world outside fading away in the warmth of your shared love.

2K notes · View notes

endlessthxxghts · 9 months ago

Text

Bend Over

Javier Peña x afab!reader || W/C: 4.8k

Summary: Your dresser craps out on you. Your boyfriend, Javier, comes with you to IKEA to buy a new one. Then, he fucks you on it.

Content/Warnings: I think you know what you guys are getting into based on the summary😗. Reader is able-bodied. Slight implied physical descriptors Javi is taller than reader, and the IKEA dresser is slightly bigger/taller than you (everything else is neutral - no size descriptions - ex. "your form", etc.). Pet names (good girl, querida, cariño, baby, baby girl, mama, mi amor). Implied that reader knows Spanish. A little allusion to our favorite contractor, Joel Miller (blink and you’ll miss it). SMUT 18+ MDNI. Public sexual activity (exhibitionism). Finger fucking. Edging. Slight undertones of BDSM dynamics. Javi’s filthy mouth. Thigh riding. Hickey/marking. P in V unprotected sex. Choking. Breeding kink (I’m not sorry). Cum play. Anal play. Brief pussy licking + rimming. Allusion to further sexual activity. I thiiiink that’s it… let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: HIII I’M BACK! I went to ikea to buy a new dresser. And the thots between @javierpena-inatacvest and I ran wild. So, this was born.👹 Also, I no longer have a tag list, but I teased this story TWICE in some WIP tag games, and a few of you were giving me so much love and wanting me to let you know when this story was posted, so I’m adopting the tag list (at da bottom) one last time to say how much I love you all. 🥹 I’m sorry this took me so long. Thank you so much. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!!!!

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

It was supposed to be just a trip to IKEA. It was supposed to be a productive day of building your dresser and rearranging your room. That is what it was supposed to be.

How it ended up with you getting your guts rearranged on top of said dresser—you’re not so sure. But, considering this is Javier Peña you’re talking about, maybe you have a slight indication of why your day ended up the way it did.

It was early this morning when your dresser decided to shit on you; all you did was slide the door open, and it completely pulled off of its hinge. Now, you don’t mind a doorless dresser, it’s modern, you tried to convince yourself, but when you pulled out the second drawer and the wood snapped in half, scattering your panties all over the ground—yeah, okay, it was definitely time for a new one.

You called your boyfriend after you cleaned up your clothes, and asked if he wanted to come with you on your hunt for the new piece of furniture. Why are you even asking? he scolded as he saddled up into his Jeep and made his way to your place.

He stepped out of his seat in the driver side, rounding the hood to pull you in for a lengthy kiss as he pulled the passenger side door open for you. “Well, hello to you, too, baby,” you giggle as you break the kiss for a breath of air. He leaves a slap to your ass as he guides you by your hips into the passenger seat. He even buckles you in, stealing one more kiss before you two head off.

You thought shopping for a new dresser would be simple: get in, choose a sizable one that could fit everything your previous dresser could, and also make sure it matches the rest of your room’s theme. Simple, right? Wrong. As long as Javier was involved, he took his sweet time really studying each option you were pointing out—analyzing it to ensure it wouldn’t crap out on you like your original one did.

“How long did you have this dresser?” He asked as he was pulling into the IKEA parking lot.

“Mmm, I don’t know,” you thought, “maybe a few years?”

“A few years?!” Javier asked, exasperated. “Where the hell did you find that fucking thing?”

You let a beat of silence pass before you answered. “...I thrifted it,” you admit weakly.

Javier puts the car in park, his face in utter shock at what just came out of your mouth. “Querida, what-” he starts.

You pull him in immediately, shutting him up with your lips against his. It works, of course. “Let’s go?” you ask.

“Y-yeah, vamos (let’s go),” he says, flustered.

“Javi, c’mon,” you whine, feeling exhausted after his analysis on your third option since the first two didn’t pass the Peña inspection. “Since when were you a contractor? The first two were perfectly fine, baby, it’s IKEA for crying out loud.”

He scoffs. “Living on the ranch with Pop,” he replies to your sarcastic remark. “You and I are both aware I know my way around some handiwork,” he adds as he looks back to you, a shit-eating grin creeping on his face.

You want to roll your eyes, but you can’t help the way your body ignites to the suggestion laced in his words. “Pendejo,” you mutter to yourself, fighting the heat from making it to your face.

You walk around some more while your boyfriend opens every nook and cranny of the wooden frame, but then right as you turn your body, you find it. The dresser. HEMNES. You quickly make your way to it, running your hands along the dark brown surface, crouching down to open up and see how much space is in the drawers—which, it’s very spacious. The drawer itself is taller than your waistline, probably reaching just at your belly button. It’s perfect. “Baby, wait, come here! I think I found one!” You call out.

Javier follows your voice, intrigued by your excitement—you didn’t show this much enthusiasm with the other ones he was looking at. He rounds the corner and is met with quite a view. You are bending over the top of the dresser, on your tippy toes, trying to feel for the depth of the dresser. He sees you settle your hands at the edges of the top and shake it a little, testing out its durability while also unknowingly wiggling your ass. Fuck me, he thinks. Quickly adjusting his pants, he makes his way to you, situating his body directly against yours as he cages you in.

“Jav-” you softly gasp, not expecting to feel him. Immediately you’re pulling yourself up, still on your tippy toes, but your back is now flush against his chest.

“Ay, Dios mío,” he grunts as he whispers in your ear, “Querida, please get up.” His hands are on your hips, pulling you away from the dresser. You turn in his hold, a giggle leaving your throat as you look at his stressed out expression, realizing why his reaction was so pained.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You ask him quietly. “Saw something you like, huh?” You pull him in by his neck, kissing the side of his mouth before you pull away from him completely. Gesturing to the dresser, you ask, “Does this one pass the inspection, sir?”

He glares at you before he replies. “Yeah, let’s get this one.”

Your eyebrow quirks up. “You didn’t even look at it.”

“I saw enough, cariño,” he says gruff, looking at the tag on the display and taking note of which aisle the box will be at.

You know your man well enough to know when he’s turned on, and that little unintentional stunt you pulled when making sure HEMNES was the right dresser for you—oh, it absolutely sent him over the edge. You decided to let him brew in his own arousal until you checked out your purchase, but the moment you set foot in his car again, you were set on starting something you wanted him to finish.

“Thank you again for coming with me, baby,” you say as he settles back into the driver seat, your hand taking its seat on his upper thigh.

The muscle twitches underneath your palm. “Mhm,” he mutters, voice wavering at your contact. Just as Javier puts the car in drive, he’s immediately pushing it back to park because your hand slides higher, closer, to the hardening bulge between his legs. His hips softly buck into your grasp; you take one look at him, and you can see the veins in his neck popping. A victory smile graces your face as his turns into a scowl. “What are you doing?”

You feign as much innocence as possible. “What am I doing? I’m just saying thank you, baby, I can’t tell you thank you?”

“Right,” he says unconvinced. Your fingers continue to draw little shapes across the strained material of his pants. You go to cup him entirely, but the strength of his hand stops you.

He releases your hand and gets out of the car, the car still running. He is at your side faster than you can take your own seatbelt off. He’s pulling your door open and giving you no chance for debate, his hand wraps around your jaw and pulls you into a bruising kiss—a messy yet calculated dance of teeth and tongue, and in pulling away he’s biting your bottom lip, pulling the sweetest little desperate whimper from your throat. He clocks the way your hips softly grind into his seat.

“J-jav,” your voice shakes, “w-what are you doing-”

His grip on your jaw tightens, giving you a little shake as he speaks. “You had your fun, cariño,” he breathes. “My turn now.”

His hand leaves your face and snakes down the front of your body, unzipping your jeans as you just stare wildly at the sight below you, your breathing erratic as your body anticipates his next move.

“We- we’re in the fucking parking lot still, Javi!” You whisper yell at him, pissed, even though your body is doing absolutely nothing to stop him. He smirks at that fact. You want this.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep quiet for me, yeah?” His fingers slip past your jeans, past your underwear, and you’re fucking soaked. His middle and ring finger bypass your clit, circling your entrance to gather the wetness accumulating before he comes back up to circle your throbbing bud.

“Oh, fuck,” you yelp out, your eyes rolling back and your hips pushing into his hand as you hiss out in the pleasure. At your volume, Javi’s quick to stop his ministrations, cupping your mound and squeezing you as a warning. If the space allowed, you know he would’ve slapped your cunt. This alternative is equally as dizzying.

“Open your eyes, baby,” he rasps. Your eyes flutter open. “You see all these people, huh? You want them to see you? See my good girl getting finger fucked in broad fucking daylight?”

“F-fuck, Jav” you whimper, much quieter this time, as your eyes land back on your man’s as you try and grind yourself on him. Javi’s fingers find your entrance then, sliding in with ease as a new wave of arousal pours out of you.

“Oh, you like that idea, don’t you?” His fingers speed up their momentum as he adds his thumb into the mix, hurtling you much closer to your finish line than you anticipated.

“Baby, I’m c-close, I’m- fuck- I’m gonna cum, Javi, I-” you bring your hand up over your mouth to stifle the sobs that are about to leave your mouth.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna give us a show?” He asks, his breathing just as erratic as yours. All you need is one more little push from his thumb on your clit, and then-

“No!” you cry.

Right as you were about to fall over the edge, Javier completely pulls his fingers out of you, standing up straight as he licks his fingers off. Your hips don’t realize he left you as they buck a few more times, chasing the feeling of what could have been.

“Baby, please, I was so close,” you heave, your heart rate equivalent to that of a hummingbird.

Javier leans down into the car, slotting his lips against yours terribly slow; your taste lingers on his tongue. He pulls away. “Sorry, mama,” he whispers. “Only I get to see you fall apart like that.”

He zips and buttons your pants up, leaving you a stunned, aroused, wet mess as he makes his way back to the driver seat and pulls out of the parking spot, driving back to your place as if nothing even happened.

The drive home is short, but it feels like the longest drive you’ve ever had to endure. He rests his hand on your thigh the entire time, squeezing you every now and then as his pinky leaves featherlight touches where you need him most. He talks to you during the drive—about what, you honestly have no clue, but it seemed the conversation was enough for him to sustain alone.

You’re brought out of your daze when his hand grabs your jaw, turning you to look at him. “You okay, baby?” He asks, knowing damn well what’s got your head in the clouds.

The throbbing between your legs remained consistent—worse, even—on the drive home, so no you’re not fucking okay. You don’t tell him that, though. “Mhm,” you hum, not trusting your vocal cords to string together something coherent.

He pulls your lips to his—a lingering one, one that has your mind slipping further. Breaking the embrace, he says softly, “Go unlock the door, amor, while I carry the box in, yeah?”

On wobbly legs, you make your way to your door, missing the hole a few times but eventually the key slides in with ease. You toss them into the bowl on the entryway table, making your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water to contain yourself until Javier comes inside.

Apparently, you’re way more distracted than you thought, because one gulp down and he’s behind you—hands on your waist, mouth on your neck. You set the glass down a little harshly, its weight suddenly increasing tenfold with the way he’s on you.

“Baby,” you whine, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Please.”

Your boyfriend is turning you around then, turning you to face him, and his mouth is on yours, licking and sucking as his body pushes you up against the fridge, your head landing with a soft thud as his mouth starts to descend down your neck while his fingers work your buttons and zipper for the second time today.

He’s pulling your bottoms down to your ankles—they’re loose on your form, so they don’t restrict you too much from opening your legs when he slots his thigh in between you, hitting right against your core.

His lips never leave you, biting and kissing every inch he can reach while his hands find their home at the globe of your asscheeks, securing his grip as he begins a steady pace of your crying pussy back and forth on his clothed thigh.

“Just like that, cariño, I can feel you fluttering on me already, holy fuck,” he groans as he continues his assault on your chest, leaving pretty bruises all over the valley of your breasts. “Making such a mess, pretty girl,” he mutters into your skin.

Your hands snake to the curls at the back of his head, yanking them as he brings you back closer and closer to the finish line. He brings his lips back to yours sloppily, one hand leaving your ass to paw at your chest, his fingers rubbing and twisting at your nipples; they harden in his touch.

Your eyes struggle to stay open, his tight jeans providing the yummiest friction against your clit. “I- I’m gonna- please, Jav, I- I need to cum,” you sob.

His hand at your chest snakes down your body, following the path to your sex. Just as you think he’s about to slip his hands between your legs, his hand changes direction, both hands going up to grip your waist to stop you from moving. His thigh leaves your core, and you’re fighting—your hips chase his muscle, your fingers scrambling to pull him flush against you, but he doesn’t budge. It’s no use. Your high is gone again, painfully forced back to the start line as Javier bends down to grab your panties and work their way back up your legs.

You’re a heaving mess, tears falling from your eyes as pathetic little protests fall from your lips.

Exhausted, you sigh and finally blurt out, “Javier Peña, what the fuck are you doing?”

You can see the faintest shit-eating smirk fall on his face before he mirrors what you did earlier: feign innocence. “Gotta go build your dresser, mi amor.”

“I can fucking build it later.”

“But I’m already here. I’ll do it.”

“Yeah, but your presence is needed elsewhere,” you say, annoyed. You faintly gesture to your sobbing cunt, silenced by your soaked underwear.

“But if I’m here, I’ll do it, so you don’t have to,” he says, placing a chaste kiss to the side of your mouth.

“Javi,” you whine, hoping a thousand different ways of are you fucking serious right now translates to him in the tone of your sexual frustration.

“Just sit pretty for me while I go do it real quick, okay, cariño?”

Not giving you the chance to respond, he drags you by the wrist to your bedroom, forcing you to get settled in the reading chair you have in there—a prime spot to watch him get all sweaty as he works. Great.

You wouldn’t have riled him up if you had known this was the kind of torturous game he had in mind.

Twenty minutes in, and Javier is sweating alright, but it’s not for the reasons you’re thinking. Yeah, it’s a physical strain building this dresser, but this is fucking light work for him.

No, he’s sweaty, sticky, and disgustingly hot because his dick is at his full potential, throbbing and leaking at everything you put him through—and everything he put himself through, pulling you to the brink of orgasm twice without letting you fully submit to it. He damn near always gets off when you do, and teasing you like this teases him just as much, if not more.

He’s almost done, he just has one more drawer to put together and slide into place, but he takes a step back and uses his arm to wipe the sweat across his forehead, his breathing heavy during the action. It takes everything in you not to completely melt at what he’s forcing you to witness, a faint whimper escaping you at the sight of him.

It takes him barely a minute to get the last drawer assembled before he attempts sliding it into place. It goes in with ease at first, but before it can fully shut, the drawer gets stuck, unable to close by an inch. What the fuck, he mutters under his breath, lifting it up and wiggling to see if it’s just a kink inside the railing. Your jaw falls a little open at the vulgarity of his mouth; you are way too wound up and everything he’s doing right now has your pussy doing backflips, somersaults, cartwheels—you name it. She’s very eager.

Fed up with the drawer, Javier completely opens the drawer and then slams it shut, using his hips to give the drawer a full-force push. The slam of the wood is deafening, but it does nothing to hide the sweet little gasp that comes out of you, his cock twitching at the sound.

A high-pitched, breathy squeak of an oh fuck leaves your mouth, and Javier turns to check on you. He sees your fingers skating down your front, running your middle and ring finger over your soaked center, your clit’s fire immediately reigniting at the contact.

“¿Cariño?” He calls, a sternness evident in his tone. You know not to test that tone. Your fingers’ movements pause, your eyes meet his and they’re dark. “What do you think you’re doing?” Jesus fuck, he doesn’t even know if he has the strength to fuck you like he was planning on, the sight of you touching yourself has a fire igniting through every vein in his body.

Your eyebrows are furrowed, nervousness written all over your face. “I…um, I-” you start.

“Get up,” he cuts you off.

“What?” You say softly, your brain already scrambled eggs and unable to register what he just asked of you.

His singular eyebrow raises as he stalks closer to you, his hard gaze looking down at you as your pussy cries even more at the attention. Now his command registers, and you’ll be damned if you have to make him repeat himself.

You remove your hand from your center, lifting yourself off your chair. He snags you by your waist, pulling your body flush against his front as he steals the breath from your lungs, your tongues meeting hungrily. You moan into his mouth, your hands slowly wrapping around his neck, but before you can grip his sweet curls, he’s pulling away from you, your surprised gasps blessing his ears as he flips you roughly but with ease towards the direction of your new dresser, already in its place secured against the wall.

“Javi,” you whimper again for what feels like the millionth time already.

“Dime qué quieres, cariño,” (tell me what you want) he rasps in your ear, his hands skating down your front and resuming what you so desperately started.

“F-fuck-” you start, “fuck me, Javi, please, please fuck me,” you beg, your heart stuttering as he dips his middle finger into your entrance.

He kisses your temple as your eyes fall shut, a contrastingly sweet gesture for the way he’s about to ruin you right now.

“Then bend over.”

Now that sobers you up a little. You start to crane your neck in his direction. “W-what?” But he’s quick to grab your jaw, bringing your eyes back to your dresser. “Go do what you were doing earlier, baby. Bend over that dresser for me,” he says, soft but stern, then he’s taking a step back, letting you get there on your own.

So hooked on his body heat, you can’t help the shudder that leaves you, but ultimately you’re making your way to your new dresser—picking yourself up on your tippy toes to lean over the top, just like you were doing with the store’s floor model. “L-like this?” You ask, voice trembling in anticipation. You stick your ass out a little extra for good measure.

You hear his belt buckle before you register his deep grumble. “Yeah, baby,” he tells you, slowly making his way to your backside. “So good for me,” he breathes, his fingers hooking into the hem of your underwear and letting them fall to the ground. You step out of them, knowing his next step is gonna be to nudge your legs further open—and he does, using his foot to nudge both of yours outwards.

He runs his middle finger through your slick as he lets his jeans fall, your hips push further into his touch, chasing the pleasure you’ve been buzzing for all morning.

“Baby, please,” he hears escaping your mouth.

“Nuh uh, baby,” he tuts, “I told you. You had your fun already, it’s my turn.”

He runs his fingers through your wet seam, properly soaking his digits before he brings his hand to his own arousal, covering himself in your slick. He groans at the feeling. Javier crowds himself behind you, his tip immediately mirroring the path of his fingers. He catches himself against your clit, and he smirks at the wrecked sounds of your heavy breathing.

He pushes himself into you, slow and steady, getting you comfortable in his size. His fingertips are digging little bruises into your hips—his way of grounding himself from absolutely pummeling into you from the get go.

You two have been together for quite some while, but Javi knows he’s big. It’s evident in the way you mewl and convulse every time he’s inside of you. Too big to get used to, yet perfect for the slight tinge of pain he knows you love.

“Baby, please move,” you pant.

“You sure, cariño?” He says softly, his dominant demeanor fading to make sure you’re alright.

You reach back to grab onto his hand and drag it up your own body, settling his long digits around the base of your neck. With a squeeze of your hand over his: “Fuck me, Jav, please.”

At your queue, he’s pushing himself into you entirely. “Yeah, baby?” He snarls. “Want me to fuck you like this?” His hips form a hard pace, your hips digging into the ledge of the dresser. “This what your pretty little pussy wants, huh? What she’s been fucking crying for, baby?”

“Fuck-” you gasp. “Fuck, yes- Javi, yesyesyes! Amor, please,” you wail, your eyes rolling back as the pressure of his fingers on your neck restrict your blood flow, filling your body with a euphoria only he can give you.

His eyes scan down your body, taking in every inch of you with nothing but pure adoration. The sweetness fades when his eyes zone in on where your two centers meet. He lets out an audible moan at the sight, sending your pussy fluttering at the sound. “Look at you, bebita, fucking creaming on me, holy fuck,” he groans, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

“I- I’m close, baby, fuck-” your breath stutters. “Touch me, Jav, I- I need you,” you moan.

“Shh, I’ve got you, mi amor.” Javi’s hand on your throat leaves you and coasts down your spine, his grip fixing itself on the globe of your ass.

He reaches down with his thumb to gather some of your slick, dragging it up to your tight, more inexperienced hole. You gasp when you feel it, your ass bucking further into his touch. “Oh, my baby girl likes that? You like your ass being played with, cariño?” He taunts, hooking his thumb inside. “Want to me to fuck you there next time?”

“Fuck- yes- please,” you whimper, your pussy fluttering around him at his words. His other hand snakes to your front and reaches for your clit, drawing tight, calculated circles on you. “Oh, fuck-!” you yell out.

“That’s it, baby, fucking- dámelo, fucking soak me, querida” he forces out between his teeth. Your body twitches in his grasp, knuckles stark white against your dresser, eyes clamped shut as you cry out in the overwhelming pleasure consuming every inch of your body. “Fuck,” he groans, your sounds forcing his balls to pull taut. Javi’s fingers speed up along with his thrusts, hurtling you towards your long-awaited climax.

It’s overstimulating, him fucking into you so harshly as every nerve ending in your body pops off like fireworks. Yet, you feel the way his cock twitches inside of you, the way his pace stutters for barely a second, and you know he’s close. It’s overstimulating, yes, but you want, no, need him to continue, you need him to chase his own finish line—you need him to root himself so deep inside you, you’ll feel traces of him for months on end.

“You’re close, I can feel it,” you gasp, building your own rhythm of your hips to help him along. “Need it, baby, need you inside of me,” you pant, your voice desperate. You pull yourself off the dresser and push your back into his chest, both his hands leaving your body to grip onto the darkwood, caging you in.

“Yeah?” you feel his heavy breath fan across your cheek. “Tell me how fucking’ bad, querida, wanna hear it,” he says, voice strained.

You look back at him as best you can in this angle, your lips ghosting his jaw as the slick sounds of you grow louder. “Need you so bad even plan B can’t help us- God- please cum inside of me, Javier Peña, fucking give it to me,” you beg, your moans echoing the walls and rattling every fibre of his being, pushing his body into a state of pure ecstasy as he begins to empty himself into you.

“Oh…fuck,” he grunts, his hips coming to a halt as he nearly wheezes through his orgasm. Once the sensitivity calms down, Javi pumps himself in and out of you a few more times for good measure, pushing his load deep inside of you. You can feel the way he slides in with a wet ease, and it makes butterflies in your belly erupt, a small gasp of a giggle, knowing that the soaked sensation isn’t because of solely your own product.

“Fucking perfect,” he grumbles, slowly pulling himself out of you. He takes a small step back to get a look at your used cunt, puffy and glistening. His mouth literally waters.

Javi drops to his knees, settling his broad palms on each of your ass cheeks to keep the view of you open for him. Slowly, he leans in, the flat of his tongue running over your delicate pearl through your cum-soaked folds, a mix of you and him blessing each taste bud on his tongue. He hears your breath hitch.

He brings his tongue back in, collecting up the salty combination, before he’s on you again, mapping out the ring of your puckered muscle before he softly peppers the area in sweet kisses, your rear slightly irritated with his repeated slamming into you.

He pulls himself away, giving you a moment to turn around; your back is to the dresser now. He places several kisses on your thighs, giving a few more kitten licks to your center before he’s rising to his feet and pulling you in for a deep yet gentle kiss. You can taste both you and him, and it makes your heart want to burst at the seams with warmth.

“You okay?” He asks softly as his lips break away from yours.

“Always with you,” you offer bashfully.

“Good,” he says firmly, kissing the tip of your nose. You hear his hand smack the top of your dresser a few times. “I guess this thing is pretty fucking durable, huh?”

“Mmmm, maybe. I think it needs to pass one more test,” you tell him.

His eyebrow quirks up, you can see his mustache twitch, fighting his smirk. “And what test would that be, mi amor?”

Taking a step back out of his hold, you back up into the dresser again, grabbing onto the ledge and you jump, spreading your legs wide open for him to fit in between.

You can see the way his eyes flash impossibly darker. He stalks up to you again, his hands squeezing your thighs before he’s back on his knees, his head immediately burying himself in your core.

Oh, yeah, this dresser passes the test, alright.

Tagging those who showed interest when I posted the WIP !! @honeyedmiller , @punkshort , @joels-shitty-puns , @bearsbeetsbeskar , @janaispunk , @starry-eyes-love

If you enjoyed this, come check out my masterlist for more or follow my notifs blog @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to get updated on when I post new stories! Much love💚

@pedrostories

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bestofmultiverse · 17 days ago

Text

Between the pages

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

"People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is 'you're safe with me'- that's intimacy."

- Taylor Jenkins Reid, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling she might be hallucinating.

One drink had turned into three, and it wasn’t even 9 p.m. yet. She’d slipped away from her friends at the bar near her office, brushing off their nagging with a vague excuse. Her first instinct had been to stumble into the little bookstore around the corner—a place she’d been meaning to check out since she started her job at the publishing house.

Half an hour later, she was wandering the aisles, muttering sarcastic comments under her breath about the uninspired titles her boss had decided to publish. That’s when she noticed someone standing nearby: a tall brunette who was watching her with an amused smile, eyes sparkling as if she’d overheard every word.

Something about this woman seemed familiar, but in her tipsy haze, y/n couldn’t quite place why. She was fairly certain they hadn’t hooked up before… probably. She figured she’d remember someone with a face like that.

The brunette noticed her staring and grinned. “That book’s terrible,” she said, gesturing to the one in y/n’s hand.

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it. The author’s an ass, too,” y/n replied without thinking, the alcohol giving her a boldness she usually lacked.

The woman laughed, a sound that was low and warm. “Sounds like you’ve got stories.”

“Not to be weird, but… do we know each other?” y/n asked, squinting as if that might help her remember.

The brunette chuckled. “I just have one of those faces. Don’t sweat it, baby.”

The pet name made y/n’s heart skip a beat. This woman was gorgeous, and her presence was disarming. Not to mention, y/n was tipsy in a bookstore—probably not the best state to be meeting someone like this.

The woman nodded toward the shelves. “Got any recommendations? You look like someone who knows good books.”

Y/n smirked, feeling a little more at ease. “Well, now you sound like my boss.” She glanced at the shelves. “What are you looking for? A certain genre?”

The brunette’s gaze lingered on her a moment longer than expected. “Something captivating. Sapphic.”

Her smirk didn’t go unnoticed, and y/n felt her cheeks warm. “Evelyn Hugo, then,” she managed, trying not to sound flustered.

The woman picked up the book, barely glancing at the cover. “Good enough for me,” she said with a grin.

“You’re not even going to read the back?” y/n asked, amused.

“Nope.” The brunette’s lips popped on the ‘p,’ and y/n’s eyes lingered there for a second too long.

The woman’s gaze didn’t waver. “Want to grab a bite and tell me about it?”

A short while later, they were seated in a booth at y/n’s favorite low-key bar.

“So you really don’t recognize me?” the woman asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

Y/n stammered, laughing nervously. “Should I?”

The woman chuckled. “Relax. We haven’t hooked up or anything like that.”

“Oh,” y/n replied, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“I’m an actress,” the woman explained with a smirk, watching y/n’s face as recognition started to dawn.

“Oh… oh my god,” y/n breathed, eyes wide. “You’re Aubrey Plaza.”

Aubrey smiled, raising an eyebrow. “Yep. You finally got there.”

“I am so sorry. I’m just… a little starstruck,” y/n admitted, cheeks burning.

“It’s cute,” Aubrey said with a shrug. “So… you’re a Marvel fan?”

Y/n laughed. “Guilty. Also a dumbass, apparently.”

Aubrey leaned back, amused. “Maybe, but it’s working for you.”

A blush stole over y/n’s face, and she changed the subject before Aubrey could tease her any further. “So, what are you drinking?” she asked.

Aubrey considered for a moment. “An Old Fashioned, I think.”

Y/n nodded and called over the waitress, who looked mildly amused as she took their order, including a pepperoni pizza to share. As the waitress walked away, Aubrey observed, “She seems to know you well.”

“Yeah, she’s used to my friends coming in here every other day,” y/n explained.

Conversation flowed easily, becoming more relaxed with each passing minute. Y/n found herself laughing at Aubrey’s dry humor, and as her initial anxiety faded, she realized she genuinely enjoyed Aubrey’s company. Hours flew by, and as midnight approached, they decided on a late-night walk in the nearby park.

Bundled up against the night chill, their cheeks flushed from the drinks, they walked side by side, laughing about random topics and sharing stories. Eventually, they called a cab, squeezing into the back seat, Aubrey’s arm casually resting around y/n’s shoulder.

At y/n’s door, she hesitated, nerves starting to creep back in. Aubrey seemed to notice and gave her a soft smile.

“I can feel you overthinking from here. Relax,” she teased, sinking into the couch as soon as they walked in.

Y/n laughed, joining her. Aubrey pulled out the book she’d bought. “Wanna read it together?”

Y/n grinned. “I’ll make us some tea.”

They settled into the couch, Aubrey reading aloud while y/n curled up beside her, head resting in Aubrey’s lap. There was a quiet, comfortable intimacy between them that didn’t need words. Aubrey’s fingers absentmindedly played with y/n’s hair as she read the love story of Evelyn Hugo, and gradually, both of them drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Part 2 • part 3 • 4 • 5

#i did a thing #aubrey plaza #sapphic #rio vidal #aubrey plaza x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha x rio

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anastasiabowe · 11 months ago

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𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗬𝗢𝗨 — how your boyfriend is and how he acts with you, only you bring out a new him!

note: I saw this format on a couple of posts and wanted to try it out! I would tag people but there is so many people that use this format, so, sorry!

Content warnings: nsfw (17+), swearing, masturbation,(Kagami), overstimulation, bondage (Kise), pussy eating (Teppei),dacryphilia, degradation if you squint (Aomine), riding (Midorima), stand fuck? (Murasakibara), and anything else I forgot!

★ — 𝗞𝗔𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜

Kagami is a big baby when it comes to you. He always misses you! Even though with his teammates and friends he seems stable and intense, he falls to his knees for you, he cries for you at night, wanting to feel you in every place imaginable. Can’t hold it against him, you’re literally perfect!

You had arrived home from work with Riko, and the apartment you and Kagami share, you only part-time, was weirdly quiet. You dropped off your stuff, and called out to Kagami. You walked slowly to the bedroom, and muffled noises were becoming more and more clear.

Kagami whined and groaned as he worked his cock with his hand. Frustration pinning a furious red on his face and his shirt was in between his teeth. His abs defined from him tending his abdomen and you couldn’t help but get weak in the knees hearing him cry out, not only crying out profanities, but crying out your name.

“Hah, w-wish you were here baby!” He moaned again, trying his hardest to relieve the burn of the blood flowing his dick. He pinched his nipple, and groaned out to that. You pushed open the door, and Kagami flinched, but didn’t stop. Your face was in complete shock and awe and he couldn’t help but nearly come right then and there from simply seeing your face.

You approach the bed, and crawl towards him. “Move your hand.” You command to the red haired man.

“B-but-“ you smacked his thigh, and he removed his hand.

“I wanna help!” Your dominant demeanor no longer evident. You smile, and he nodded aggressively, jerking his hips up when you firmly grabbed his dick.

“T-thank you!” He moaned as you You kiss his heated lips. “Love you so-so much-much!”

★ — 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗘

Kise, kise, kise. A kind man at first appearance, a strict man at heart. Don’t get me wrong, kise is a great guy, thoughtful, loving, respectful, but he also wants to be in control. He wants to do things his way, that being where you both go to for a date, or where you lay while he fucks the last brain cells out of your head’s.

Kise sat on the sofa in your shared home. His jaw clenched and legs crossed. His arms draped over the back of the sofa and he watched the show in the screen.

You on the other hand were upstairs, on the king sized bed, hands and legs tied and a vibrator in and on your cunt. You cry as your cunt was overworked and pain was starting to course through your cunt. You could t fee anything but the uncomfortable pain from the vibrations, yet orgasms after orgasms instinctively rip from you.

“K-kise! P-please!” You scream out again, his teeth clenching harder against each other. “I-I’m sorry!” You cried when another orgasm scraped its way out of you.

Kise sighed and stood up. He walked upstairs and into the master bedroom. Your body was limp against the bindings, and your face was completely wet from the tears in your face. You did this to yourself. Even though you couldn’t stand this punishment, you never used your safe word. Kise wanted to pity you, but again you did this to yourself.

He got on the bed, and turned off the vibrators. As he did so, your body convulsed, and then he felt a little bad.

“Have you learned your lesson?” He grabbed your cheeks and moved your head towards him.

“Y-yes.” Your weak voice spoke out. She smiled, and kissed your lip’s softly.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” Kise took off the cuffs, he cleaned your hypersensitive cunt as gently as he could. He rubbed ointment on your wrists and ankles, and he stripped himself of his shirt and pants, and laid with you.

“Don’t fuck with me again, y/n.” He help you tighter in his arms. You nodded, and he smiled.

★ — 𝗧𝗘𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗜

Can Teppei ever just not be himself? Teppei is the sweetest man known to mankind. Whenever you both hang out, it never feels awkward or unnatural to be around him, he is just so easy to love!

Teppei prepared a warm bath with bath soaps and candles, no rose petals though, he’s allergic, but he did put in rubber duckies, just to be funny! You were exhausted from doing your afterschool job, and he knew exactly what you needed. So when you entered the bath, him behind you, his heart fluttered seeing the face he wanted to see, satisfaction.

He washed your back, and hair. He laid with you, hummed a song that put your mind at ease. He even helped dry you off and carried you back into your shared room.

“Just let me help you relax, baby.” His comforting tone made you follow his command. He spread your pussy lips and began to suck on your clit. His tongue circling it at the same time. You grabbed the pillows as you felt even more amazing with how he was eating you out.

“Mhm, feel good?” He looked up, still eating you out.

“Mhm, very good!” You moan out making him chuckle.

He continued to eat you out until you quickly grabbed his head and pushed him farther into your cunt.

“So close! Please don’t stop!” Teppei pushed your thighs even farther apart, enhancing the pleasure, and also to stop you from crushing his head.

You came while pulling his hair. He groaned at the feeling, and rutted his dick into the mattress from the feeling.

Once you came down from your orgasm, Teppei climbed up to you and hovered over you. you looked up at the brunette who was smiling. You chuckle and said,

“Guess you like hair pulling more than I do!” He laughed and kissed you.

“I guess so!”

★ — 𝗔𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘

Aomine is a bitch. He knows it, I know it, now you know it. And, when I say bitch, I mean he is meeeean! But you’re into that, so who is really complaining? Aomine does everything in his power to make you upset, not like genuinely upset, but more so a “stop being so mean!” Upset. He doesn’t hurt you, call you names or pick at insecurities, he says things like “you can do way better.” In a blunt tone.

Aomine also is distant in a trashy boyfriend way. He is a good boyfriend most times, but a lot of times he just ghosts you, ignores you, and he also sometimes has the audacity to talk to other girls! He doesn’t indulge in any physical contact, but he wants to see you upset or crying.

Aomine is a dacryphiliac. He strives to see you cry. But, it isn’t hard to get you too, because your a baby. A big cry baby while we’re at it. Your dress is too short, you cry. Your shoes aren’t tying right, you cry. If you can’t fall asleep when you want to, you cry! But Aomine loves it.

“Please put it in!” Tears stream down your face as Aomine rubs his tip anywhere and thrusts it everywhere but your cunt. You just wanted to indulge in an intimate session with your boyfriend but he isn’t doing very much.

“Quit your crying, I do what I fucking want.” He slips inside but quickly pulls out. Aomine has good stamina and self control when he wants to, and this is the time where his self control is at its peak. He can just tease and tease until he’s ready.

You ball up your fists and hit the mattress. Your forehead also hirs it as if you were throwing a tantrum.

“Fine.” He said annoyed, and he started to pound into you.

“Y-you- aha! You b-bitch!” You moan out as he rolled his eyes.

“What else is new?” His voice sounded so controlled despite the rapid and aggressive thrusting he was doing.

“Wouldn’t say that shit if I wasn’t fucking my pussy. I’d be grateful if I were you, not many girls get this opportunity.” He said straight into your ear.

“I- aha! I’m gonna c-“

“Shut the fuck up- shit.” He interrupted as he repositioned himself, and pulled you onto him as if you were some sex doll or fleshlight.

“Aominichi!” You squeal as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

“Fuck!” He slowed down his thrusts and pulled out of you.

“What are you-“

He flipped you on top of him, and laid back.

“If you want my cum, work for it.”

★ — 𝗠𝗜𝗗𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗠𝗔

A literal Aomine opposite. He comes off cold and a know it all, but he is really a great listener and man of advice. You kind of find his whole lucky item thing a bit weird, and how he revolves his whole day around his zodiac and lucky item, but he’s still cute!

He always gets a duplicate of his lucky item, knowing it might not matter to you or have as much luck as for him, but he wants to share as much of his luck with you as he can. He always wants you to be where he is, that being games, school, and even work.

He treats you like his own lucky item, accept he doesn’t need a website or paper to tell him that. He also likes when you take control. He loves when you use him. He’s always so tired of having to worry about this and that, and doesn’t like always being the leader of something since he’s apart of the GOM.

“Mmm, Shintarō!” You moan as you rode him. His large hands gripped your his tightly, and his usually neat green hair was messy and half wet from the multiple rounds you’ve put him through.

“Ha- wha-what’s got you so worked up today?” He was out of breath, and all you could do was smile.

“Having a hot boyfriend comes wit-with perks.” You continued to hop on his long dick, despite the burn of your thighs.

“I see.” He smirked. And he felt another orgasm approach. You rolled your hips, trying to cum one more time.

“I’m so close! Please, Shin, h-help me!” Your legs got the best of you, and you needed his help.

“Alright, but beware, I’m not holding back.” He flipped you both over, and he grabbed your waist. He quickly fucked you both, his hot moans and your pitchy ones filled the room, as this was going to be the last round of many.

“I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” You repeated over and over, and Midorima leaned down and kissed you.

“Cum for me.” His voice was deeper and that done it for you.

You screamed, and he continued to rut into you until he groaned and came inside of you. He laid on top of you, and you both laid there and caught your breaths.

“Knew that damn coin was going to give me extra fortune today.”

You hit his back, and he chuckled.

★ — 𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗜𝗕𝗔𝗥𝗔

This man is LAZY! And I’m not just saying that either. He literally doesn’t want to do anything around the house, he doesn’t want to help with groceries, he just wants to eat and maybe, just maybe, play a small game of basketball, but unlikely.

He usually prefers to sit around the house and watch tv, but when you’ve made it very clear that in order for y’all to fuck, he has to do the work, he was basically a man who worked his whole life.

Since he was a big man, he couldn’t get away with doing nothing. If you need him to get a bug on the ceiling, he’s getting that bug. If you need him to get a kitten out of a tree, he’s getting the kitten, or he won’t get your sweet, delicious cunt.

“No.” You said, even more pissed of than before.

“Why not!” The big ass man whined. His dick laying on his lower abdomen as you sat rught next to him with your arms crossed.

“At your grown age, if you want something done, you’d work to get it done.”

He frowned, and you stood your ground.

“Fine, whatever.” He crossed his arms and looked away. After maybe 5 seconds, he got up and put you over his shoulders.

After many fake attempts of being mad and asking him to put you down, you lost your clothes and was now being moved on his dick like a sex doll. His tall stature and your much shorter one almost made you seem like a doll.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he bounced you up and down his dick.

“Is this enough work for ya?” The spite in his voice thick like honey.

“M-m-hm!” The broken noises from the bouncing were the only things you could muster as his dick reached the deepest parts of your body.

“Always whining about how lazy I am, sorry I like to rest!” He is talking to himself more at this point.

You quietly came in his cock, he didn’t even notice from all the yapping he was doing.

“Just tryna make you happy, but no, always gotta be mad at so-“ his words froze, and you were gone.

“Already dumb on my dick? Had so much shit left to say.” He brought you over to the bed, and just continued to fuck you there

“Lazy!” He laughed to himself. “I’ll show you lazy.” This, my friend, is going to be a long night for you!

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l0ngschl0ngking · 2 years ago

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Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily

warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself

word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)

A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.

You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.

It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.

What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.

He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.

He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.

“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”

One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.

“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.

One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.

“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”

His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.

“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”

“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“

Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.

The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.

It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.

“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-

He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”

He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.

“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.

You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.

Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:

“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.

He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.

Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.

Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.

His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.

And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.

So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.

The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.

You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.

The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.

You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.

His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.

He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.

“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.

He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.

“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”

You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.

He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.

So that you knew what you were missing.

The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.

But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.

So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.

You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.

You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.

To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.

Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.

But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.

And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.

So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.

Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.

There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.

Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.

You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.

You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.

You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.

The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.

Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.

So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.

“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.

“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.

And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.

“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”

His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.

He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.

And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?

But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.

So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.

But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.

He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.

“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.

“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”

And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.

Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.

His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:

“Go out with me.”

He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.

“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.

“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.

“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”

“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.

He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.

“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.

“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.

He owes Steve.

For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.

He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.

When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.

The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.

Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.

You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.

It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.

As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.

Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.

“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.

“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.

You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.

“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”

You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.

You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.

You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.

It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.

The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there

Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.

“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.

“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.

“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.

“You remember that?”

“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”

The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.

“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.

He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.

“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.

The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.

You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.

It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.

Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.

Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.

When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.

He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.

All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.

He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.

He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.

His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.

And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?

The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.

This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.

He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.

Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.

“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.

“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.

He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.

“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”

“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”

“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.

“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.

Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.

You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.

A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.

He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.

“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.

“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.

The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.

And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.

“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.

He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.

He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.

“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.

“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.

“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”

They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.

You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.

The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.

His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.

Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.

You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.

You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.

He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.

You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.

“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.

Game on, Peña.

You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.

Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.

“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.

He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.

“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.

The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.

“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.

The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.

The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.

“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.

He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

He hopes you understand.

When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.

He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.

He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.

He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.

He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.

You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.

He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.

“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.

“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.

It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.

“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.

You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.

“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.

“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”

And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.

One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.

He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.

You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.

The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.

His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.

You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.

He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.

He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.

“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.

The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.

When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.

You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.

When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:

“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.

And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.

It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.

Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.

It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.

“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.

It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.

So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.

So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.

What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-

A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.

But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.

The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.

His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.

“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.

You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.

“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.

He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.

You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.

You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.

His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.

Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.

The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.

Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.

He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.

You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.

The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.

You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.

It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.

You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.

You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.

His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

#javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #javier pena reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #soft javi #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal ff #narcos smut #javier pena one shot

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pedroscurls · 1 month ago

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romantic getaway (one-shot)

summary: hugh takes you to greece for a romantic getaway after rumors of your relationship with him start to circulate the media... but there's no hiding it anymore. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader tags / warnings: fluff / smut (18+, mdni) - reader has some description (hair, outfit), unprotected p in v sex, oral (m receiving), missionary, prone bone position, creampie (oops), light spanking, no use of y/n. word count: 3.4k a/n: shout out to @lloydmustache for sending me this request! i'm so sorry it took so long, but i truly hope you enjoy it. i had so much fun writing it (and honestly that first pic definitely sidetracked me way too much lol but i ain't mad about it). as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

“Let’s go to Greece,” Hugh tells you, hands resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, caging you in as you continue to make breakfast.

“Greece? Oh, come on,” you gently nudge against him, trying to create some space between your bodies.

“Let’s just get out of the spotlight. Have some fun. Just–” Hugh sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder as he watches you scramble the eggs onto the heated pan. “A little getaway. Just me and you, baby.”

You bite your lower lip, contemplating his offer. It had been a few months since meeting Hugh at the after party of the release of Deadpool & Wolverine. You hadn’t expected to meet him, no less spend the entire night attached at the hip. You were there as a plus one with one of the crew members who had abandoned you once the after party started. So, you were at the bar, hand gripping the glass of wine as you felt completely out of place.

Until Hugh Jackman approached you and made you feel completely at ease. He didn’t have to talk to you, didn’t have to spend the entire night with you, but he did and you would be lying if you said you didn’t jump at the chance to go home with him. You didn’t normally do this – one night stands – but Hugh never pressured you into something you didn’t want to do. You had gone home with him that night and stayed up the entire night, just talking until the sun rose and you kissed him.

You didn’t get home until later that afternoon, truly satisfied and a memory that you would hold dear to you. You didn’t think anything would come of it – the one night stand – but after having exchanged numbers with Hugh, you both continued to text and call each other even after the fact.

You both had to figure out a way to sneak around without Hugh getting caught by the paparazzi and it was tough for a few weeks. He was still riding the high of the success of his movie with Ryan, so whenever he stepped out, there was always a camera in his face. He was always polite, always considerate, but he missed you. Wanted to spend more and more time with you as the weeks passed.

But you both got a bit too comfortable with the routine. The paparazzi started to pick up on the times that Hugh would leave, where he would go, and a few even caught a glimpse of you entering his building. So, as the months passed and your relationship with him progressed, rumors about Hugh’s love life began to circulate.

HUGH JACKMAN RUMORED TO BE OFF THE MARKET AFTER DIVORCE?

HUGH JACKMAN - NO LONGER SINGLE?!

HUGH JACKMAN RUMORED TO HAVE BEEN GETTING COZY WITH MYSTERIOUS WOMAN AT DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE AFTER-PARTY?

It was difficult to navigate the rumors, difficult to see the comments from his fans. You weren’t used to this type of commitment where it wasn’t only Hugh’s love life on full display for the entire world, but that meant that you would be thrust into the spotlight too.

You weren’t famous. No one knew who you were. You were “normal” in the sense that you weren’t in the industry like Hugh.

But Hugh reassured you. With every hateful comment or new headline, Hugh was there to make sure that you knew those things didn’t matter to him.

He’d tell you: “You make me happy and that’s all that matters to me, baby.”

Now, you’ve become desensitized to the rumors, to the comments. You put all your focus on Hugh and your relationship with him. There are still moments that make you think otherwise, but Hugh knows you enough now where he can sense when your thoughts begin to drift.

“So, Greece?” Hugh whispers, turning his head to press soft kisses along the side of your neck. “It’ll be amazing. Think about it. Beautiful sunsets, amazing food, nights on the boat…”

You shut your eyes and rest your head back against his shoulder, granting him further access along your neck. “Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s do it.”

Hugh grins against you and wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him. “Perfect. I’ll go ahead and plan everything, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“You always take care of me,” you laugh quietly.

“It’s not enough,” Hugh whispers. “You deserve everything.”

—

You’ve fallen in love with Greece, but you have to wonder if it’s because of the location or if it’s because you’re here with Hugh. You’re able to be out with him in public – kissing, holding hands, going out to dinner. It gives you a glimpse of what you’ve been missing all along since this relationship began all those months ago.

You’re on the boat, dressed in an oversized white button-up shirt over a white bikini. You’re lying back, allowing the sun to gaze down upon you until you hear Hugh let out a loud woo! followed by a loud splash of water. You lean up on your elbows and look over the railing to see Hugh come up to the surface, bringing his hands to brush his hair away from his face as the water trickles down his upper half.

You bite your lower lip and allow your eyes to rake over his frame, all tan and muscular and a large grin lining his lips. He’s so dreamy and you still can’t believe that you’re here with him and that he’s chosen you to be with.

“Come on in, baby,” he exclaims, smiling up at you. “The water feels amazing.”

“I have to finish this chapter–”

“You can finish it later. Come join me.” Hugh interjects.

You smile and then shrug off the button up shirt, walking towards the edge as you look down at Hugh. You can see him gazing up at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip as his eyes run across your frame.

“Oh yeah, definitely join me, baby. You look amazing.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you jump into the water. You swim further up to the surface and stroke your hair away from your face as Hugh swims in your direction, his arms immediately coming to wrap around your waist. He pulls you flush against him as he leans in to peck your lips lightly.

“I don’t ever wanna leave,” you tease him, your own arms wrapping around his shoulder and your legs wrapping around his waist.

“It’s been an amazing vacation so far, baby,” Hugh whispers, leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “At least we have another week here.”

You bite your lower lip, eyes gazing into his own as you feel your bodies sway in the water. “Hugh?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I want to be able to do this with you when we get back home,” you admit.

Hugh’s eyes glimmer with excitement, with hope. “Yeah?”

You nod, playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah. I’m tired of sneaking around.”

“So, I can show you off? Take you out to dinner in the city? Go for walks in the park?”

“Yeah,” you repeat with a smile. “I’d like that very much.”

Hugh lets out a sigh of contentment and leans in to press his lips against yours. He didn’t think that anything would happen when he met you that one night all those months ago. Deadpool & Wolverine had given him another chance at playing a character he loved, but it had also given him you. He can still remember the way you looked that night, the way you seemed so out of place, but even amongst all the cast and crew members and even other celebrities, Hugh found comfort and peace in you.

“Once we get back to New York, you’re staying the entire week at my place,” he says, pulling away slowly.

“Not gonna get tired of me?”

Hugh’s hand dips lower until he holds you up against him by your backside. His fingertips brush against your clothes sex, watching as your eyes flutter. “Never, baby.”

—

Back at the hotel, you’re getting dressed when you hear Hugh curse under his breath. He walks into the bathroom, looking over at you with an apologetic look on his face. He’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of jeans with his phone in his hands.

“What is it?” You ask, running the towel over your damp hair.

“Someone,” he sighs and walks over to you. Hugh hands you his phone and then crosses his arms over his chest as he leans against the bathroom counter. “Someone took a photo of us earlier today and posted it. It’s all over the media. Magazines have already written headlines for it. It’s everywhere.”

You set the towel down and tighten the robe around your body as you look at the pictures that some fans must have taken of you both earlier that day. You bite your lower lip, scrolling through a few more before you set the phone down.

“Hugh–”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“Hugh–”

“We’ll figure something out and–”

You reach over and rest a hand on his broad chest, gazing up at him. “Baby, it’s okay.”

“It’s okay?”

“We were gonna tell everyone eventually, right?”

“But not like this.”

“I know, but I guess that’s the price you pay for being so famous,” you tease.

Hugh sighs and rests his hands on your hips. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“I know what I was getting into when I decided I wanted to be with you, Hugh.” You move your hands up his chest and rest them on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “And besides, we look in love. I’m in love.”

Hugh’s eyes widen slightly, a slow grin appearing on his lips. “Love, huh?”

“Yes,” you admit, leaning up on your toes to peck his lips. You lean against him, lacing your fingers at the nape of his neck as his arms snake around you. “I’m in love with you and honestly, I’m tired of sneaking around with you.”

“Are you sure, baby?” Hugh asks quietly, hesitantly. “I just– I don’t wanna scare you away. People can be…”

“Mean? Hateful?” You sigh. “I know all of that, Hugh. But you make me happy and that’s all that matters to me,” you repeat.

Hugh sighs contentedly. “I’m in love with you too, baby.”

You look in his eyes and smile to yourself, pulling back to run your hand along his chest, feeling the muscle and hair beneath your fingertips. “Do we have to go to lunch?”

Hugh’s eyes darken as he gently reaches for the knot in your robe, undoing it slowly and pushing the robe off your shoulders. It pools around your ankles, staring up at him innocently as you stand fully exposed in front of him.

Hugh can feel his jeans become tighter in the center as he reaches down to squeeze his length, growling lowly. His eyes take in your frame, biting his lower lip. When he sees you drop to your knees in front of him, Hugh grins to himself and moves his free hand to tangle itself in your damp hair.

“Baby, we have reservations and–” his words cut off when he feels your hands undo the zipper and button on his jeans, pulling it down his legs with his boxers. It relieves the much needed pressure as he looks down at you, your hand coming up to grasp his base and gives it a gentle squeeze. His hands grip the edge of the bathroom counter as a low groan escapes his lips.

“We can skip lunch,” you tell him, leaning forward to dart your tongue out at his leaking tip. You smile up in his direction as you wrap your lips around his head and slowly begin to suck.

Hugh’s eyes flutter as his hand in your hair tightens. He loves seeing you like this, on his knees with his cock in your mouth. He tries to keep his eyes open, but the more you take of him, the harder it becomes. Your saliva is slick along his base and he feels your cheeks hollow as you take more of him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Hugh moans, shifting his hips forward until he feels his tip hit the back of your throat. He hears you gag at that and looks down to see tears stinging the corners of your eyes at the slight thrust he delivered. When he feels you begin to quicken your pace, Hugh has to pull away. He knows he’ll get close to finishing if you keep that up.

“On the bed,” Hugh demands, chest heaving as he sees you stand upright. You bat your eyelashes in his direction and Hugh’s eyes narrow, stepping up to you as his manhood brushes against your abdomen. “Get on the bed, baby.”

You nod, but slowly lean in to press your lips against his. You try to deepen the kiss, try to slide your tongue past his lips, but he doesn’t let you. You bite down gently on his lower lip once he pulls away, hearing him let out a loud groan.

“Yes, sir,” you tease, walking towards the bed. You’re about to lie on your back when Hugh shakes his head and gently flips you onto your abdomen. You go to prop yourself on all fours, but Hugh instead straddles you from behind. He presses a hand on your lower back and makes your front press firmly into the mattress. Hugh places his legs on either side of yours, using his hands to spread your cheeks apart as he sees the length of your sex glisten with your arousal.

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him from over your shoulder. You bite your lower lip and feel the head of his manhood brush against your opening. “Hugh, please…”

Hugh smirks and slowly slides into your heat, a loud moan leaving his lips. In this position, your walls encompass his length, soft and warm, tight and welcoming. He slides further into you, your wetness and your saliva from earlier providing just enough lubricant to push into you. Both of his hands move to rest on the mattress at either side of your hips as he pulls his hips back, pulling out to his tip, before he thrusts back into your tight heat.

Your hands come up to grip the sheets of the mattress. You feel so full of him and in this position, you feel every inch of his throbbing length. You bury your face into the mattress, letting out a loud moan as Hugh’s hips pick up its pace. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixes in with the sounds of your moans, and with how wet you’re increasingly continuing to get. Hugh’s thrusts are seamless, easy, and your walls begin to give way to his size.

“Hugh, oh my god.” You arch your back and you feel his hands move to rest on your hips as he rolls his hips into you.

Hugh watches his length move in and out of you, seeing his manhood slick with your arousal. He groans, feeling your walls begin to tremble around him. “God, you feel good baby,” he whispers, leaning down so his lips hover near your ear. “You like that?”

His voice is so deep – he’s so deep. Your toes curl inwards at the sensation and his entire frame is crowding you, caging you into the mattress as he continues his rough thrusts.

“Y– Yes! Please, Hugh, I’m so close–”

“Oh, I know, baby. Gonna give it to you,” he says, nipping at your earlobe.

“Oh god,” you moan, eyes shutting tight as you feel your walls clench around him tightly. Your body trembles as you reach your high, and Hugh has to deliver a sharp thrust to fill you to the hilt to allow you to ride it out. When he pulls back just a bit, you’re overcome with a flood of sensations and you reach back to push his hips away, to give some space, but Hugh doesn’t let up.

“That’s it, baby,” he groans, grabbing your wrist and placing it against your lower back.

“Hugh, please, I don’t know if I can–”

He delivers a hard thrust, his tip hitting your cervix and you practically let out a scream at the movement. Hugh grins proudly to himself, pulling out momentarily to flip you onto your back. Hugh spreads your legs apart for him and settles between them, sliding back into you with ease.

He takes your hands and pins them above your head as his thrusts become more sloppy, more erratic as he feels himself get closer and closer to the edge. Slowly, Hugh laces your fingers together, eyes focused solely on you. He always loves seeing you come undone – the way you struggle to keep your eyes open, your mouth already formed in an ‘o’ shape with a series of moans escaping.

And it’s all because of him.

Hugh thrusts once, twice, three times before he paints your walls with his come. He’s breathing heavily and you’re doing the same. He releases his hold on your hands to instead cup your cheeks, your eyes dazed with a small smile lining your lips.

“I should get on my knees more often,” you tease, feeling his come slowly trickle down your legs when he pulls out.

Hugh chuckles, shaking his head. “We won’t get anything done if you do.”

—

Later that evening, Hugh wanted to take you out on the boat for dinner with a view. You’re both leaning against each other with a glass of wine. His arm drapes around your shoulders as you lean into him, watching the sunset along the water.

There’s a sense of freedom that washes over you when you know that you no longer have to hide your relationship with him. It’s freeing to know that you can step out in public with him and not have to worry about getting caught.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently nudging your temple with the bridge of his nose.

You turn your head to look up at him, smiling in his direction. “Hm?”

“You mind if I take a picture of you and post it?”

You bite your lower lip. “Why of me? Not of us?”

Hugh just shakes his head. “I wanna start showing you off,” he smiles.

“Make sure I look good, at least?”

Hugh chuckles. “Baby, you always look good.” Then, he takes his phone out and positions the camera to face you. You don’t bother to look at the camera because you’re so focused on him. He’s grinning from behind his phone and you aren’t sure if he’s already taken the picture because he doesn’t give you a countdown.

Then, he tells you to look off into the distance.

“Ah, so you’re giving me poses now, are you?” you laugh quietly, looking towards the sunset with a smile on your face.

Hugh doesn’t respond, just continues to take several more pictures. “God, I’m in love with you,” he whispers.

You turn to face him, a large grin on your face as your eyes sparkle with so much love and adoration. “I’m in love with you too, Hugh.”

He smiles to himself and then looks down at his phone, selecting his most favorite photo that he had just taken. Once he posts it on his Instagram, he captions it: I want to love you under the sunlight.

You look over at his post and smile to yourself, cheeks heating up. “Such a romantic.”

“You make it easy,” he smiles, pulling you back into his arms.

You smile and lean back against him, letting out a contented sigh as you feel his lips rest against the crown of your head. “Hugh?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

Hugh squeezes you into him, arms tight around your waist. “I love you too, baby. More than you know.”

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman fanfiction #hugh jackman fanfic #hugh jackman fiction #real person fanfiction #real person fiction #real person fanfic #hugh jackman requests #hugh jackman x reader #hugh jackman x fem!reader #hugh jackman x f!reader #hugh jackman oneshot #hugh jackman one shot #rpf #hugh jackman x female reader #story: romantic getaway

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happilyhertale · 9 months ago

Text

Do not sleep - Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: An evening with your husband can be exhausting – but Daemon has no interest in letting you sleep.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note:

I'm sorry it took so long for this story to come! But now, on the occasion of my 2k follower anniversary, a little Daemon Smut for you!

The story can be read as a stand-alone story or as a sequel to "Shared Future" English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 2.4 k

Other stories of mine

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Your eyes slowly close, but the smile doesn't leave your lips. The blanket envelops your bare skin, which is covered in a light sweat. Daemon's deep laugh echoes lightly through the room, a reaction to you calling him silly.

He presses his face gently into the crook of your neck, wrapping both arms around you from behind. He holds you so tightly that for a brief moment you fear you will never be able to move again. The warmth of your body flowing through Daemon's slowly makes him close his eyes too. His head is swimming, but he struggles to stay awake. It's just too good to be in your arms, he doesn't want to lose it.

"Don't fall asleep," he whispers suddenly, "I can't let you go yet.... Don't let you drift off to sleep yet"

You smile as his voice rings out, your eyes flutter open for a brief moment, but you lose the battle.

"Why...?" you finally whisper. Daemon gently brushes his nose along your neck, "Because I enjoy holding you like this.... I don't want to stop," he whispers softly.

But you only answer him with a sleepy moan.

"Please... just ten more minutes... Then I'll let you sleep," he whispers, even he knows how ridiculous this request is, but he can't help himself.

You laugh softly now, but you give in, "Okay... ten more minutes," you say softly and turn around in his arms, your purple Targaryen eyes meeting.

"But you'll be the one who's grumpy in the morning if you didn't get enough sleep," you say softly.

Daemon smiles gently, his fingers brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. You feel his chest rise and fall as his breathing slows and he just smiles at you. His fingers glide gently down your neck, leaving a tingling trail on your soft skin. His caresses continue on your shoulder as he begins to hum. Your smile widens as his deep voice rings out.

"A song of ice and fire..." he whispers. "And blood..."

He continues, looking deep into your eyes.

"I think my father made the right decision when he announced that I had to marry you," you whisper, biting your lip lightly.

"We're going to have a wonderful Targaryen family..." you whisper, running your hands over his firm chest – you feel the scars, achievements of dragon fire and battles.

Daemon leans forward, cupping your lips with his. His hands reach for your hips and he begins to caress your body. Almost gently, his fingers wander over your curves, gripping your soft flesh.

As Daemon processes your words, his lips curl into a smile.

"And an incredible marriage..." he whispers, letting his fingers slide on, "We are the definition of Targaryen. We would make Aegon and his sisters proud"

Your lips almost touch as you bite your lip lightly. Then you lean up and Daemon growls, disappointed at first. But then you swing your leg over his hip and you sit astride him, your hands sliding naturally onto his chest as your hips move slightly.

"Do you really think Aegon the Conqueror would be proud?" you ask seductively and Daemon growls slightly again, but this time not out of disappointment.

"That I married my uncle? That we'll have pure Targaryen children..." you say softly. His hands slide along your thighs to your hips, gripping you as his grin widens.

"I think he'd be proud to know that our house is as close to the gods as humans can get," he says playfully, no longer as serious as he usually is, but you manage to rouse his playful nature. You can see him staring at your body in the light of the candles, your curves and the way your body moves.

"Do you think the gods would approve of what we're doing?" he asks in a teasing tone. There's a certain innocence in the way he wants to hear your answer, but that doesn't make it any less attractive.

You start to move your hips a little more, eliciting another growl from Daemon. "I don't care what the gods think.... I love you..." you finally say softly, "And I love the fact that we're going to have pure Targaryen children..." you say seductively.

"That your seed makes me swell with your baby..." you say softly, watching Daemon's grin widen.

He slowly loses control of himself as you sit astride him and your hips move slightly. His fingers glide over your soft skin, leaving a fiery trail behind them as they slide to your bum and grab you. The fact that your skin is not covered by any clothes only excites him more. Your words intensify this arousal. The pride in his Targaryen heritage, the love and respect he feels for you, and how both together arouse him. He stares at your body and whispers softly as you move your hips.

"Does it make you proud? To have the blood of Aegon the Conqueror in you?" His voice is hoarse and a little rougher due to fatigue. There is passion and lust in his tone.

You listen to these words, loving the deep vibration of his voice as you reach for his hand and slowly guide it from your bum to your womanhood. You press his fingertips against your sensitive pearl, pushing your hips forwards slightly and making a rumbling sound in his chest.

"Yes..." you finally breathe, "Does it turn you on to have your niece as your wife...?" you ask softly, your voice a little breathless.

"It does," he whispers without hesitation, his voice a little rougher than usual. His hand trembles slightly, but he keeps it firmly where it belongs.

He stares at you as he presses his fingers onto your bundle of nerves. With your mouth slightly open, you sit on him and savour the feeling. He moans slightly as his fingers leave circular motions. His lust has taken control of his usual calm. There's something about this moment that feels more real than most.

You close your eyes and moan slightly as your hips continue to move.

The movement of his fingers is deliberate, but he takes his time. This is different from your previous lovemaking. He wants to see you squirm, he wants to see you moan. He wants to watch you while your body feels this pleasure.

There is nothing else on his mind but your body at this moment.

His fingers move faster, he feels the slickness of your arousal, smearing the wetness along your folds. Your fingers dig into his chest as you lean forward slightly, and another grunt escapes Daemon. His arousal can no longer be denied, his hardness presses against you and he begins to move his hips. Slowly he pushes it through your folds, making you shudder and whimper slightly. He watches you closely, but then he bites his lip and his free hand moves to your hip and his fingers explore your body, caressing your skin and playing with your flesh.

His hand glides down your body, over your soft skin, until he reaches for your breast and you gasp. His thumb teases your nipple while his other hand doesn't stop moving.

"Gods..." you whimper.

His cock continues to slide through your folds, back and forth, as his growl gets louder.

"Say it..." he suddenly whispers breathlessly, "Say you want to keep enjoying this. Say you want me to keep doing this until you can't take it anymore..."

His touch is gentle but firm – you can feel the heat of his fingers.

"Make me... make me squirm... make me come..." you whimper softly as your hips move almost desperately against his fingers.

Daemon grins slightly as he hears your words, noticing how your hips push against his fingers. He grunts slightly, his other hand finding its way to your hip, holding you tight.

"I'm your eager niece..." you suddenly whisper as you moan out.

His grin widens at the sound of your words. His hardness slides through your folds with each of his movements, soaked with your wetness.

"You will be the mother of my children and they will have your beauty and my strength," he whispers softly. He notices your thighs begin to tremble and he grunts again.

"Say my name," he whispers suddenly, "Say my name while I give you pleasure"

But you only moan as your fingers dig deeper into his chest. The movements of his fingers bring you to climax. Your head falls back as you moan loudly. Daemon feels the spasms of your cunt on his fingertips and he grunts loudly.

"Daemon... Daemon..." you whimper as his fingers continue to move.

Daemon smiles, his breathing heavy – he knows what you like.

"Good girl," he whispers as his fingers move slower. His other hand releases your hip and leaves caresses on your body, "But did I say you could come?" he whispers teasingly.

You're breathing heavily, still sitting astride him. His fingers are still embracing your womanhood.

"Forgive me..." you say with a gasp and a slight blush adorns his cheeks.

"You don't have to ask for forgiveness..." he whispers, but the smug smile doesn't leave his lips. His fingers begin to move again, and he pays attention to every little movement you make. The way your body twitches slightly as his fingers caress your sensitive pearl – his own arousal not gone in the slightest.

But his other hand is still on your hip, holding you tight. "It's not like you have much control over your body right now..." His voice is soft again, but you can hear the teasing.

You whimper slightly as his fingers move faster.

"Don't..." you whimper, trying to escape his grip.

"I'm sensitive... Daemon" you whimper, leaning on his chest and trying to lift your hips to move your womanhood away from his fingers.

"But it feels good, doesn't it?" *he whispers in his deep voice, "I love seeing your face when your body betrays you."

He watches closely how you react, every feature of your face, how your lips are slightly parted. The almost desperate, yet aroused, look in your eyes. Your face is so beautiful as you feel this way, and he can see that you're so close again and he's in control.

"Good girl," he grunts as he notices your hips starting to move again.

Your eyes roll into the back of my head and you moan as you suddenly come again and soak his fingers. Your moaning and whining echoes in your chambers, accompanied by his grunting.

"Good girl..." he repeats his words and he grins.

Your body is his, and he's enjoying it. But he's still not done with you.

"We're not done yet..." He whispers softly as his fingers slow down. His voice is hoarse; there's so much lust in it.

"I'm not done with you yet," he whispers softly.

Without hesitation, he grabs your hips and lifts you up a little. He positions you just right, guiding the tip of his throbbing member to your drenched entrance. The feeling of your wetness on his cock sends a wave of pleasure through him, making his desire burn even hotter.

You moan as the tip of his cock presses against your entrance. He growls in response to your moans and his dominant nature takes over. The urge to claim you, his wife. The urge to feel your tightness consumes him completely. Without hesitation, he thrusts, slowly filling you inch by inch.

Your wetness surrounds him, your tightness grips his cock and he can't help but let out a deep, guttural growl. The feeling is overwhelming, the passion almost unbearable. He relishes the feeling of being buried deep inside you.

"You're so fucking tight... so wet..." he grunts as his hands rest on your hips, guiding you faster.

You slam yourself onto his cock over and over again. Daemon's eyes burn with desire as he watches him disappear into your tight cunt over and over again, as you ride him, soaking his cock.

"It hurts..." you whimper, but it turns him on even more and you can't stop as his cock teases your walls to the extreme.

"You like it when I take you like this, don't you?" he grunts.

"When I fill your pretty little cunt.... Feel every inch of me... take it," he grunts

You can only whimper and your cunt clenches around his cock again.

"Oh yes... I can feel you tightening... you love the way I fuck this cunt," he grunts.

His fingers dig into your hips as he matches your pace. Thrusting deep to meet your eager movements. The chambers are filled with the sounds of your lovemaking and your bodies slapping together.

His cock teases the rough spot deep inside you and you moan. Again and again he thrusts deep, making you squirm and whimper. The familiar pressure in your lower abdomen builds up again and your body trembles slightly. You bite your lip, your eyes closed.

"Daemon..." you can only whimper and then your walls clenches hard around his cock, milking it.

"Yes... Take my seed and let the baby grow," he hisses as he grunts loudly. His fingers dig deep into your soft flesh as he feels a twitch go through his balls and into his cock. You're still bouncing on his cock, your eyes closed, your mouth wide open as you moan, your cunt still clenching around his hard manhood. And that's enough for Daemon – he watches you, sees your breasts bouncing, he just grunts loudly, thrusts deep inside you once more and cums deep inside you.

He grunts and groans and closes his eyes. You're still moving your hips as the grip of his fingers loosens slightly. You breathe heavily and look at him while his eyes are closed and his heartbeat makes his whole chest tremble. For a moment it seems as if he's asleep – he just looks content. This brings a small smile to your lips and you lean down, your breathing still intermittent, but you can't resist. You kiss him gently. His lips curl into a smile as your lips meet. His eyes are still closed, his breathing is heavy, but his arms are now around you, holding you close.

"Now you may sleep...," he mumbles breathlessly and you respond with a giggle as you bury your face in the crook of his neck.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @bl4ckph0enix @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr

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truetogaia · 1 year ago

Text

come awnnn ya'll knew I had to write a longer one..

pairing: fiancé!miguel o'hara x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+

synopsis: Miguel wakes up to a... hard... problem, one only you can help solve..

warnings: just pure smut with a lil plot, p in v, unprotected sex, depictions, mature n explicit themes, no pull out sorry lolz, size kink, morning sex, vulgar language, breeding kink,

word count: 950!

requests: open !

NOT PROOFREAD! I Miguel masterlist

His buff arms crept around your middle, wrapping securely around you as your head rested on his broad chest. Mornings like these were rare, ones where you could just relish in the loving embrace of your boyfriend, and soon to be husband. The newly acquired ring weighed heavy on your finger as you reached a hand up to tuck some loose hair behind his ear. The material of it shimmered in the gentle light of the setting sun, casting reflections onto a white wall just in front of you.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest, synced with his breaths, lulled you into a state of drowsiness. He had been asleep for quite a while now. You glanced at the clock on his wrist, careful not to move too much despite the tight hold he had on you. It was exactly 8:43. And as if he could sense it, he began stirring, throwing you on the floor in the process. You landed on the wooden floor with a loud thud, wincing as your tailbone took the hit.

Miguel shot up, looking around frantically for the source of the sound. His gaze landed on you, sprawled out on the floor as you tried to process what had just happened. A soft chuckle left your lips, which soon turned into a fit of giggles. Your fiance looked at you with a puzzled expression, one eyebrow quirked in response to your strange antics.

“What are you doing?” His deep, raspy morning voice sent a slight shiver up your spine, making you abruptly stop your giggling.

“Well, you woke up and I… found myself down here..” You said, smiling sweetly at him. He began removing the blanket from his body to get up, stopping suddenly as he realized. You peeked up at him, wondering why he had suddenly frozen.

“Hey, sweets, I've got a little problem, fear I'm gonna need your help..” You hummed, getting up as you rubbed your tailbone slightly. It stung, but it was bearable. Your eyes finally landed on said problem, raising your eyebrows slightly at his huge bulge.

“Morning boner? Really? At your grown age?” You teased, earning a light scoff from the man. He narrowed his eyes at you, before shooting up to catch you in a hug before pulling you down with him towards the messy bed.

“Come on, you love me.. So help me out, yeah?” You giggled, nodding as you gently pulled away from his embrace. Your legs straddled his hips, struggling to wrap all the way around due to the difference in size.. And muscle.

Now he had his large, rough hand planted on your love handles, pressing your soft hips down onto him with ease. His cock pumped in and out of you at a pace which had you blabbering incoherent nonsense, body slumping forward to rest against his chest. Miguel tried his best to stay as quiet as he could to relish in your sounds, but the way you were squeezing his cock just right sidetracked him.

Soft moans spilled from your plump, kiss-swollen lips as his own attached to the sensitive skin of your neck. He placed gentle, sloppy kisses along the curve of it, paying extra attention to your sensitive areas as if it would drown out the blissful pleasure of his length dragging in and out of your squelching heat.

Your hands tirelessly gripped at his larger forearms, nails digging into the skin in sync with his relentless thrusts. You were still sat atop him, legs aching from the stretch the width of his brawny hips offered.

“There sweetheart.. I thought I was the one.. who- fuck.. who was supposed to receive help.” He tutted, voice deep and dripping with.. adoration? love? lust? All of the above? He didn’t really know what to feel, all he knew was that he loved the feeling of his soon-to-be wife’s smaller body enveloping his.

“Y..yeah.. you’re just.. too big, couldn’t move properly..” You said between broken moans. He chuckled, gently grabbing your arms, hands sliding down your forearms to hold your hands. He leaned forward, catching your lips in a lazy kiss.

“Fuck.. can’t wait to marry you.. To have a family” he muttered in between sloppy kisses, tongue dancing with yours as he fucked into you from below.

“Mhmn.. Y’know, some people create families before they get married..” Your soft voice felt like clouds in his ears, and his hands found their place on your hips again, a groan escaping his mouth at your words.

“Yeah? You wanna have kids now? Want me to fill you?” He smirked as you nodded desperately, feeling your hot cunt clamp down on him and throb around him. “may as well give you what you want, no? Early wedding gift..” His hips stuttered, cock twitching inside of you as you ran your hands down his chest, mouth agape. With one final thrust, he came deep inside your womb, painting your gummy walls white as you spasmed on top of him, reaching your own high.

“There we go, now we wait” His voice was raspy as you laid on his chest, catching your breath. He smoothed a hand down your spine, resting it in the small of your back. You giggled lightly, the bedroom now filled with the smell of sex.

“Come on, let's take a shower, we stink!” You said, grabbing his hand to pull him with you. You smiled as you got up, hissing slightly from the ache in your legs. You heard a chuckle erupt from your fiance's mouth, turning around to scold him. “You owe me big time, mister.”

“Is a baby not enough?”

#miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut

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gutsby · 10 months ago

Text

Best Served Cold

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Warning: NSFW. Attempted SA. Unprotected p-in-v. I don’t condone cheating (unless it’s on abusers lol). Semi-public sex and getting caught doing it in a tent 🫣 Based on this kickass idea from @dilfsandmartinis (I'm so sorry it took this long for me to post the story) !! 💓

Your man returned to your tent that night like he did most others: slick with sweat and too tired for sex. At least not again, not with you. He would undoubtedly claim to have been checking the perimeter, standing guard like a good leader should, but any blind man in that quarry camp could’ve seen he was just boning Lori.

A lot.

You were really more offended that he thought you stupid enough to abide by his lies than the fact he was fucking someone else. That part wasn’t new—his dick never knew how to stay in one hole longer than a month or two—but in an apocalypse? With his newly-deceased best friend’s widow? That was low, even for Shane.

Which was why you felt no compunction yourself as you slipped quietly from your tent toward the water’s edge that night, pink vibrator clutched tightly in hand.

Useful little thing that it was, a six-setting suction device that worked wonders on your clit, even underwater. You figured since Shane couldn’t be bothered with you or your sexual pleasure so long as the former Mrs. Grimes was occupying his time, you’d make use of this sex toy instead and start really leaning into the “self care” you’d been craving for so long.

The water was warm all the way up to your chest, and the air around you tepid. You moved around, treaded in place, and finally reached comfortable bearings a couple yards from shore. You relished the solitude and silence.

The moment you felt the toy come to life in your hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Exhaling as you brought the tip close to your center.

“Shit.” Even the gentlest setting too harsh on your clit, you nipped your lower lip and bit back a whimper.

You swirled it lightly on your inner thigh, tried painstakingly as ever to acclimate yourself to the buzz of the rubber, but damn were you sensitive. Almost too tender to be touched, too ripe with excitement and aching for the feel of something on you, or in you, or just barely skimming the surface of your skin underwater.

A low moan escaped your lips the second the head drifted back to your clit. Your toes curled into rough, rocky terrain underfoot, and your breaths started to quicken. You made a gentle motion with your hips—a sweet, semi-circular thing you’d been doing over Shane’s lower half as long as you could remember—begging for more friction, needing more of that mechanical hum.

You pressed the button for a higher setting. The peaks of your pleasure soared to new heights.

You were helpless to the trembling of your knees and felt immensely grateful for the water’s aid in keeping you straight. You pressed the rounded tip of the toy even tighter to your core and didn’t heed a thing around you as you sighed several expletives under your breath. A jolt of bliss washed over your body.

Your eyes had just started to close in the first throes of that wild sensation, when a new sound startled you.

“Ya done pissin’ or what?”

You shot a look toward the shore and saw a slightly less-than cheery individual standing at the edge of it, the toes of his boots grazing the incoming waves.

You froze in place. You hardly knew what to say.

“Ain’t safe fer you out here ‘n you know it. Come on.” Daryl beckoned you with one hand and started to turn.

At what point was it appropriate to tell him you were naked?

You thought he could surmise from the fact you were neck-deep in the water and refusing to move that maybe something more was keeping you in. Daryl seemed clueless, however.

“I ain’t got all night, kid,” he snorted, “’f you don’t hurry, Shane an’ the rest of ‘em’ll be out and— ah.”

Ah.

At the last, he stepped on a pile of clothes folded neatly on the shoreline nearby, undergarments and all.

So this wasn’t a midnight swim or a late night piss at all, but a full-blown skinny dip. He should have known you weren’t the bikini type.

Awkwardly, almost begrudgingly, Daryl gathered what clothes of yours he could and chucked them closer to the lake. Then he turned on his heels and stalked up the beach without another word—fuming, it seemed to you. Once averted, though, Daryl’s face betrayed a look of horror. Like a parent who’d just stumbled upon a box of condoms in their daughter’s sock drawer after swearing she was still a virgin.

In the few short weeks since you’d been thrown together in this mess, Daryl had practically taken to you like family. He hated Shane ‘Shit-for-Brains’ Walsh most days, it was true, but the fact that you were you, and times were tough, and nothing seemed to occupy Daryl’s mind quite like the thought of keeping you safe, that he had to keep you close at all times. He just hadn’t imagined your proximity would turn this intimate so suddenly.

“Keep up,” he spoke more sharply than usual. Didn’t even wait for you to dry and dress completely before snagging your hand in his.

You glanced at your taut, hardened nipples poking up through the damp material of your tank top and suddenly wished you’d brought a towel. Or a bra. Your shorts, too, clung to your ass like a second skin and made you feel extra bare before Daryl’s eyes—even if he hadn’t spared a look at you once as you’d traipsed behind him through the woods.

When you tripped, he held you up; when you nearly ate shit over several rocky spots, he carried you over them. His eyes never strayed toward your body, though.

Once you’d made it to the clearing where your group had made camp, Daryl lowered you to the ground and still couldn’t find it within himself to look your way. You shuffled uncomfortably on your feet, now standing inches away from the tent you shared with Shane.

“Thanks for...that,” you said, flatly.

Daryl managed a curt nod.

Before you turned in, you decided to venture a look at Daryl’s chest, and you felt an influx of embarrassment. The taupe-colored cutoff he wore as a shirt was soaked with water. Instinctively, you brushed your fingers over the stain—as if touching it might dry the fabric, or else mask your humiliation at being the cause. You tried not to evince a hint of surprise at how sturdy he felt.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Daryl.”

You hadn’t thought any man was capable of looking more afflicted than Daryl did before, but somehow, incredibly, he appeared even more ill at ease when you touched him. You immediately retracted your hand.

“’S’okay,” he managed. He would’ve given anything not to be where he was, or who he was, at that moment.

Just when another apology leapt to your tongue—feeling even worse that you might’ve crossed a physical boundary you shouldn’t have—a twig snapped close-by.

You and Daryl jumped in your skin. You turned toward the source of the sound.

Shane was tugging his pants into place, pulling the zip up in haphazard fashion as he marched out of the woods.

He’d either been blowing Lori’s back out (again) or off to take a piss in the bushes. By the looks of his dazed and drowsy expression, you guessed it was the latter.

“Got a nice rack, doesn’t she?” Shane observed, careless as ever.

He walked past the two of you and unzipped the tent.

“I was jus—” Daryl started.

“Don’t care,” Shane cut in, “Goodnight.”

You were amazed at the level of nonchalance your fiancé exhibited. On finding you soaked to the bone and touching another man in the middle of the night, the old Shane probably would’ve laid Daryl flat on his ass.

But overprotective, possessive Shane was no more.

Before disappearing into the tent, Shane reached for your elbow. You barely got another glimpse at Daryl as you were ushered inside.

The tent was re-zipped in an instant, and you assumed Daryl would be quick to leave the scene, too.

You turned and saw Shane fumbling to unscrew the lid of his canteen. Taking several big gulps before re-fastening the top, tossing the jug to the side, and letting out a sigh.

“You get a look at the hard-on he had?” Shane chuckled.

You almost choked on your spit.

“What?”

“Pitched a tent in his pants bigger’n this,” he returned, gesturing to the polyester enclosure overhead. Then he got back to his feet, walked over to you, and kept going, in spite of your perplexed expression, “He must really wanna fuck you.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were more baffled by Shane’s serene demeanor or the fact that you hadn’t noticed Daryl’s boner. You decided to overlook the erection for the time being.

“And you don’t...care if he did?” Instantly chiding yourself for the twinge of indignation in your tone.

“Nuh-uh,” Shane said. His hands came to rest comfortably on your hips, and he seemed to be hearing your words without really comprehending what you meant. As usual.

If he picked up on the irritation in your voice, he didn’t show it. He just rolled the denim of your shorts between his fingers and pulled you closer.

“This,” he hummed, fingers sinking between your legs, “is not for him.”

And Shane was community dick. Made sense.

You didn’t attempt to conceal your annoyance this time as you rolled your eyes and pushed his hands away.

“Well maybe if Daryl asked nicely…” you trailed off, starting toward the bed.

Shane stopped you before you could. He took a firmer hold of your sides and showed the first real hint of jealousy in his eyes. You were almost glad to see it.

“No,” Shane said, shaking his head. Then, snaking his touch back down your legs—with the fabric of your shorts fisted in his hands this time—he continued amidst your quiet protests.

You were gripping his wrists, trying to keep them from moving any further. But Shane was insistent.

“He wouldn’t get to ask nicely, because I’d blow his fucking brains out before he ever got the—”

“Shane.” You were actively shoving his hands off now. You didn’t mind this envious side coming back to the surface, but you would not, under any circumstance, be Shane’s sloppy seconds the same hour he’d fucked Lori.

“No. You— you smell like—” you cut yourself off before the woman’s name could leave your lips.

“Like what?” Shane snapped. Suddenly intrigued to hear what you had to say.

You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but when you couldn’t, and when he pressed you again, you sputtered some nonsense about his drinking—how he reeked of booze, not Rick’s wife.

“Thought you liked it when I fucked you drunk,” Shane grinned, voice dripping with condescension, “Said it gave me stamina.”

You’d said no such thing. You groaned lightly as Shane managed to pull your panties and shorts, together, to your ankles. When he started to take them off at your feet, he hardly seemed to notice your nails dig in his shoulders, silently begging him to stop.

“Think I should invite Daryl back over? Let him watch me fuck you stupid?” Shane’s mouth was hovering close to your center, hot breaths fanning over your lower half.

In any other situation, you would’ve craved him here: on his knees, ready to suck and lick and dick you down like he always used to do. But things were different now, you had to remind yourself. Apart from the walking dead invading your world, there was no Rick in the picture, no semblance of platonic feelings between his widow and your fiancé—you felt physically sick at the thought of Shane touching you now. You tried to stand the instant he threw you on the bed.

“Shane, I don’t wanna—”

“Fuck? Yeah, I figured,” Shane shrugged as he tried to peel your shirt off your body.

“Then quit,” you hissed. You were starting to fear the fabric might tear if you held on any tighter.

When it seemed evident you weren’t going to give in on the top, Shane let go and turned to his pants instead. Pinning you down with one hand, he unbuckled his belt as you whimpered and pleaded that he stop. The sounds only made the mound in his pants more pronounced.

The two of you had dabbled in CNC before, but this was not that. No safeword, no fallback, no trace of consent between you, and to be frank, you were starting to get scared. The second Shane freed his cock from his boxers, you felt a surge of panic rise to your chest.

“Fuck— STOP!” Without thinking, you jerked your knee.

You hadn’t meant to hit his balls so hard. But you did. And he folded in half, seizing with pain, while you took that as your chance to slide off the bed, slip on your panties—and hightail it the fuck out of there.

Shane’s cries pierced the night air like a blade through rotted flesh. You stumbled, half-blind in the dark, and blazed a reckless path through the tents all around you. Weaving in and out of neighboring spaces, searching desperately for any lone, dim glow of a lantern to tell you someone was awake to hear your pleas if needed. But sadly, no tent was alight but yours, and the entrance to that was presently being torn open once more as Shane staggered out there himself.

“Y/N!” he bellowed.

In your haste, you’d tripped over Glenn’s knapsack. You scraped your knee, scrambled back to your feet, and tried with everything in you not to make a sound as you retreated further from Shane’s voice.

You probably looked feral, weaving in and out of tents with your knee leaking blood and your pupils grown wide with fear. You scampered fast across the rocky campgrounds and made a beeline for the woods.

Until Shane’s footsteps fell heavy mere feet away.

Quickly changing course, you dove for the nearest tent and ripped it open. When you slipped inside, zipped it up, and went crab-walking backward like a panic-stricken animal, you hardly saw much of anything else.

Had your pulse not been pounding in your ears and your gaze not glued to the front of the tent, you likely would’ve gotten a pretty good laugh at the sight behind you.

At the very least, a chuckle or a smile or a slightly sheepish blush would’ve been supplied in a second, seeing someone wide-eyed and holding his cock in a death grip just inches from your rear.

You’d unwittingly scrambled into the tent of a man who’d just been beating his dick off furiously to the thought of you—and there you were, sitting pretty in pure, unadulterated fear for the sight of your fiancé any second now. When you turned your head, your hand flew to your mouth.

“Dar— oh!”

Like before, your heads snapped in the direction of a new sound, quick to sense that it was Shane, and this time, you went crawling over to the archer without a second thought. Hardly noticing his pants were down, you leapt into his lap.

“Y/N—” Shane hissed as he tripped over something outside. You heard a clatter and a bang, the sound of a few curse words sputtered in vain, and a groan. Daryl’s arms snaked around your sides and pulled you closer.

“What’ve ya gone and done this time?” he whispered.

“Told him no,” you murmured back.

You pretended not to feel the singe of Daryl’s gaze boring straight through the side of your head. Then a little lower, to your near-bare lower half and shaking legs. It didn’t take long for him to piece together what had happened.

“Y/N,” Daryl started, far louder than you could bear. You shushed him swiftly, ignoring the flare of anger in his eyes that told you he was currently conjuring up fifty different ways to kill Shane and just aching to act on it.

“Don’t. Please,” you said.

“Did he—”

“No. I...kneed him in the balls before he got the chance.”

“Oh.”

Shane was pacing outside, like he knew you were somewhere close. He called your name every now and then, drew near enough to send you rigid with fear. Then Daryl would hold you tight, stroke your hair, or else just graze his lips on your shoulder to let you know he was there, and eventually, the fright would subside. You nestled yourself into that touch and felt something far kinder than fear for the first time in a long time.

You felt aroused.

Ever more inspired by the sound of Shane stewing, fuming outside within earshot and the nudge of Daryl’s member against your barely-clothed core. Well…you were tempted, to say the least. You just weren’t sure if Daryl would be on board for being your lightning-quick rebound fuck of the night.

You sighed as his hips moved gently against your own.

“You think maybe—” you started.

“Yeah?”

“—you might…tell me what you were doing before I barged in here?”

Even in the dark, you could sense a blush creeping up his neck. You loved to see a man like Daryl flustered.

“Oh, uh, that?” he said in half a chuckle. Glancing down at his groin and going back and forth between two thoughts in his mind, most likely. Tell you the truth or come up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“Just…jerking off to you.”

He never had been any good at a bluff.

Your face visibly brightened in the dim glow of the tent. You tried not to let your elation get too far ahead of you, though, lest your voice raise above a whisper and draw Shane’s attention.

“Yeah? What about?”

Daryl never thought it possible for a woman’s enthusiasm in a question to turn him on, but yours did. He looked to your lips and swallowed, suddenly at a loss for how to answer.

“I…well…”

“You’re fucking dead to me, Y/N. If you don’t—”

Your fiancé’s voice was as close, and as terrifying, as it had ever been. You eased Daryl onto his back.

“Were you thinking of this?” you teased.

You made that soft semi-circular motion with your hips and watched a brand new face contort with pleasure. The footsteps outside hardly registered in your mind any longer, as your attention was singly focused on Daryl.

He fought a groan in his throat as you grazed your slick heat over his length.

You coated him with your arousal quicker than even you had expected. You knew you were turned on, but never had it been like that, where you were damn near dripping sweet nectar all over a man’s cock. You let a little whine leave your lips.

You couldn’t help it; your cunt rocked back and forth over Daryl’s fat, throbbing cock and made obscene sounds as you did. The archer��s hands found your hips and gently guided you up and down as his own moans struggled to break loose.

You could’ve stayed like that forever, you figured—if you hadn’t been so fucking wet that the head of his cock slipped inside of your heat the second you and Daryl bucked your hips together. An inch was quick to stretch to seven before you could think or blink or do anything else but groan in pleasure, and suddenly, he was bottoming out inside you.

“Fuck!” Daryl hissed.

“Daryl!”

“Daryl?”

Fucking Shane, of all voices you didn’t want to hear in that moment. Fortunately, he’d heard Daryl’s voice alone and not the sound of your moan, calling his name at the same time, for entirely different reasons, it seemed.

Daryl gritted his teeth as you bounced on his cock,

“Yeah?”

“I’m looking for Y/N. You seen her, brother?”

Seen you, felt you, fucked you, yeah—he had.

Daryl closed his eyes and tried not to blow his load on the spot as you squeezed around him.

“No— no, I haven’t. Not since earlier,” he grunted.

“You sure?” Shane pressed, dissatisfied, “I heard her running around this way.”

You braced your knees against the ground and rode the man beneath you even harder, taking every ounce of resentment you felt toward Shane out on Daryl’s cock. Fuck if revenge sex didn’t feel nice when the object of your ire was standing right outside the tent.

You almost wanted to moan, wanted to whimper, but were quick to think better of it the longer you spent moving up and down his length. Seeing shades of lust in his eyes like never before, you just couldn’t bear the thought of having to pry yourself off any time soon.

Daryl sank his fingers into your thighs and sighed, leaving ten perfect crescents in their wake.

“Don’t you fuckin’ stop,” he murmured.

“Could ya— could you come outside and help me look?”

‘Come the fuck on’ seemed to be the silent, shared sentiment between you and Daryl as your bodies writhed fast against each other and your highs came close into view. You braced your hands against his chest and begged him not to answer with your eyes, but you also knew Daryl couldn’t not say something to him, either.

“I…I’m sure she’s fine.” Daryl tried, weakly.

He flipped you over so you were flat on your back, hands careful not to make much noise or cause you discomfort as he did. Cock never leaving your wet, greedy hole, he found it easier than ever to resume the pace you’d made above him—now pounding you quietly into his sleeping pad.

You gripped his back and, simultaneously, bit down on his shoulder to keep from letting out a shriek when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot inside you. Tried not to whine when he hit it again. And again. And again.

Shane was growing impatient. Hovered close to the front of the tent so you could see the outline of his shadow.

“You got something better to do, Dixon?” he snapped.

Yeah, fuck your fiancée, Daryl thought with a smirk. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him even deeper.

That light, airy feeling preceding ecstasy was close at hand. You wanted to give in—let the levee break and just relish the sweet sensation quick to follow—but you knew you couldn’t. Knew yourself too well to be a screamer not to hold on a little longer, until Shane had left.

But the way Daryl’s cock was pumping in and out of you at present made it hard, to say the least.

“Just…tired, ‘s’all,” Daryl groaned close to your ear.

“Tired from what?!” Shane jeered, “Wrist been hurtin’ from how hard you’ve been jerkin’ it to Y/N, huh?”

You almost burst out laughing. Daryl quickly cupped your mouth. Fucked you harder to shut you up.

And shut up you did; but not for long, you feared. The faster he pounded you, the more that coil in your stomach came to swell, and soon enough you might—

“Eat shit, Walsh.”

“Just help me out. Please.”

Daryl shook his head and fucked you harder, much to your chagrin. You didn’t want him to stop, but you needed him to, in truth, or that swollen thing inside of you just might get the better of you and burst. You pressed your hands to his chest and tried to whimper something softly, but Daryl just hushed you with his hand to your mouth and kept on at that breakneck pace. Your eyes rolled back, your legs started to shake, and if Daryl hadn’t had to tear his attention away to say something to Shane, he might have seen how close you were to blowing your cover…before it was too late.

With one more stroke inside your wet, sensitive hole, you felt a cord inside you snap and a flurry of wild, unbridled bliss take over, stronger than you’d felt in ages.

A shriek desperate to escape your throat, your teeth raked down Daryl’s flesh with the force of it, and, instinctively, the man yanked his hand away and yelped.

You hated to do it, but the feeling was just too good. Your lips parted to release one of the most lewd and obscene sex screams of your life—with Daryl’s name following over and over as you came.

Daryl’s eyes grew to half the size of his face, it seemed. Stilling inside you, feeling your sweet, hot juices flow down him in waves, he sat there and couldn’t quite decide if he was more turned on or terrified.

When Shane tore through the fabric of the tent and charged inside, he figured it out pretty quickly, though.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon one shot #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd imagine #smut #shane walsh #shane walsh smut

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vmlnrznotfound · 4 months ago

Note

OMG!! REQUESTS OPEN? hehe

Can I request the Chigiri + Kunigami version of "MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE." Series please? 🧎🏻‍♀️

I LOVE IT SO MUCH I'M GIGGLING EVERYTIME I READ IT FRFR xD

Also, have a good day 😌✨

[PART4] MY GIRL IS MAD AT ME, I HOPE I DIE.

characters: chigiri, kunigami, oliver, shidou, kurona, yukimiya

a/n: hi lovelies! here's your requests done<333

CHIGIRI HYOMA

hyoma stood by the door, his eyes focused on you as you sat on the couch, pointedly ignoring him. the silent treatment was in full effect, and it was eating at him.

he quietly walked over, sitting down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “i know you’re mad,” he began softly, his voice gentle, “and i probably deserve this.”

you didn’t look at him, your attention fixed on the magazine in your hands. chigiri sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to reach you.

“i hate it when we’re like this,” he admitted, the usual confidence in his tone replaced by sincerity. “i know i messed up, but i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.”

you shifted slightly, but your eyes remained glued to the page. chigiri leaned in a little closer, careful not to crowd you. “i just want to fix this, to make things right again. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to talk to me.”

still no response, but the tension in your posture seemed to ease ever so slightly. chigiri took a deep breath, willing to wait for however long you needed, because he cared too much to leave things as they were.

he stayed by your side, a silent promise that he wouldn’t give up on you.

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE

you stood by the kitchen sink, your back to kunigami. the silence between you two was heavy, and you were determined to keep it that way. after all, he had been late—again—leaving you waiting in the rain. you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet.

kunigami stood in the doorway, his eyes on you. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, but you didn’t turn around.

he sighed, then walked up behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. you shrugged it off, still refusing to speak.

kunigami took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. he knew he’d messed up, but seeing you so distant hurt more than he expected.

he placed his hand on your shoulder again, this time with a bit more persistence. “please, just talk to me.”

you turned slowly to face him, your expression a mix of frustration and sadness. kunigami's eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice even softer. “i know i’ve been unreliable. i’m sorry for letting you down, and i don’t have an excuse. but i want to make it right. i’ll do whatever it takes to show you i can change.”

you could see the sincerity in his eyes, and it made your resolve waver. so you silently opened your arms, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

OLIVER AIKU

you were mad—furious with your boyfriend. oliver aiku had pushed your buttons one too many times, and now you were giving him the silent treatment.

sitting on the edge of the bed, your eyes were glued to your phone, deliberately avoiding any acknowledgment of him. the room was thick with tension, and every second seemed to stretch longer than the last. oliver’s footsteps were hesitant as he approached, his presence nearly tangible in the quiet air.

he knelt down beside you, his posture a mixture of apology and desperation. his expression was earnest, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness. “come on, please,” he murmured, his voice gentle yet laced with the weight of his remorse. “i’m really sorry.”

you shifted your gaze, still not meeting his eyes. the silence between you was almost deafening. undeterred, oliver’s hands moved slowly, starting to massage your legs with a delicate touch.

his voice was a constant murmur of apologies, an attempt to bridge the gap you had so carefully maintained. “i know i messed up, but please, just give me a chance to make it right.”

his hands inched higher, their warmth gradually becoming more insistent. your patience waned, and finally, you placed your foot on his shoulder, gently pushing him away. “watch your hands,” you said, your tone sharp and frosty.

oliver’s face fell, a mixture of regret and determination reflecting in his eyes. he remained on the floor, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering resolve. “i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk,” he said softly, “but i’m not going anywhere.”

SHIDOU RYUSEI

shidou leaned against the doorframe, watching you flip through a magazine, pretending not to notice him. he walked over, plopped down beside you, and started chatting about a game-winning goal, but you stayed silent, focused on your magazine.

leaning closer, he rested his chin on your shoulder. “you’re really cute when you’re mad,” he murmured.

you shifted, trying to get comfortable.

“i could keep talking about how much i adore you,” he said, “but i’ll just stay here until you give in.”

minutes passed, and you closed the magazine with a snap. you moved to the other end of the couch and turned on the tv. shidou watched you, smiling.

“silent treatment, huh?” he said. “i’m sorry, okay? i messed up, and i’ll keep messing up because i’m human, but i can’t stand it when you’re mad at me like this.”

you glanced at him briefly, and he saw it as a small victory. he slid closer, closing the gap between you. “i know you’re stubborn, and you’ve got every right to be. but i’m not going anywhere. i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk to me again.”

you stayed silent, but there was a softness in your posture. shidou stayed close, content to wait. the tv droned on in the background as you both settled into a quiet peace.

KURONA RANZE

you’ve been ignoring kurona for the better part of the day, and he knows it. usually, you’d laugh at him or at least respond when he calls your name, but today? it’s different. he can feel it. so, naturally, kurona decides to pull out all the stops to get you to break your silence.

it starts with the little things. he brings you your favorite snack, placing it on the table next to you with a sheepish grin. but you don’t even glance his way. next, he tries to make fun of himself to get you to laugh—juggling random items he finds around the room, almost dropping one just to see if you’ll react. nothing. you stay focused on your book, or at least pretend to be.

kurona huffs, finally getting serious. he slips out of the room, mumbling something about needing fresh air.

when he comes back, he’s carrying something behind his back, his expression one of pure determination. he takes a deep breath and walks over to where you’re sitting on the couch, still glued to your phone.

he pulls out a giant shark plushie from behind his back. it’s soft and kind of goofy-looking. "shark shark," he says, grabbing your attention. "want to say sorry on my behalf,"

you try your best to ignore him, but kurona’s earnestness is too endearing.

“talk, talk,” he continues, wiggling the plushie closer to you.

you remain silent, but your resolve is starting to crack.

“he says he’s really sorry,” kurona persists, his tone now softer. “he didn’t mean to upset you, and he promises he’ll never do it again.”

YUKIMIYA KENYU

the kitchen smells like something went horribly wrong. yukimiya stands in the middle of the mess, looking at the charred remains of what was supposed to be your favorite dish. the counters are splattered with sauce, and the pan on the stove is emitting a thin wisp of smoke. he runs a hand through his hair, frustration mixing with guilt as he surveys the disaster.

he wanted to make it up to you, to do something special that would show how much he cared. but instead, he’s only made things worse.

you walk into the kitchen, your expression unreadable as you take in the scene. yukimiya freezes, eyes widening as you approach the counter. he watches as you grab a tissue, silently wiping at a particularly stubborn stain, your face void of emotion. the silent treatment you’ve been giving him continues, and it cuts deeper than any angry words ever could.

“hey,” yukimiya starts, his voice tentative, filled with regret. “i’m…i’m so sorry.”

you don’t acknowledge him. you just keep wiping the counter, your movements slow and deliberate, as if focusing on the task is the only thing keeping you from saying something you might regret.

“i’m sorry for messing up the kitchen,” he adds, trying to make you look at him, desperate for any sign that you’re willing to talk to him. “and...i’m sorry for everything else, too. i didn’t mean for things to go this way.”

but you remain silent. yukimiya’s heart sinks as he watches you finish wiping the counter. you set the crumpled tissue down and, without a word, turn to leave the kitchen. his chest tightens as he watches you go, feeling like he’s losing you all over again.

as you disappear into the hallway, heading towards your bedroom, yukimiya lets out a long sigh. he leans against the counter, staring at the mess he’s made, both in the kitchen and between the two of you. he’s about to start cleaning up when his phone buzzes with a notification.

pulling it out of his pocket, he sees a text from you. his breath catches in his throat as he reads it:

'dinner. your treat.'

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solarsturniolo · 9 months ago

Text

𝖂𝖊'𝖗𝖊 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝕱𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 // 𝕸.𝕾. // 𝕱𝖔𝖚𝖗

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Matt is so 'sweet best friend that secretly jerks off to your pictures' coded (idea credit to @heartstreet )

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: angst / smut / p in v / soft!dom matt? / unprotected sex / swearing / kinda depressing at the beginning

𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: THESE STORIES ARE FICTIONAL :)

𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 6871

Three weeks.

He went three weeks without speaking to her. Ever since that night, he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. It replayed in his head like a broken record, he couldn’t get it to stop. The way she danced with him, the way she clung to him, the way she kissed him, all of which would have normally been more than enough to get him off at least a few times. But Matt hadn’t touched himself in those three weeks. He couldn’t. How could he even think about it when he just felt miserable?

“Matt, are you coming?”

He groggily lifted his head from his pillow, his hair sticking out in awkward directions. He struggled to open his eyes as the light flooded in through his windows. Looking over his shoulder, he squinted at his brother standing in the doorway. “Huh?”

Chris furrowed his eyebrows. “The meeting? With Laura? Are you coming?”

It took a moment for the question to register in his brain, but when it did he simply grunted and dropped his head back into the pillow.

“Dude this isn’t good for you-“

“ ‘M just tired,” he grumbled, his voice muffled by the pillowcase as he buried his face deeper into the pillow.

“You haven’t left your room in three days.”

Matt opened his eyes, looking over his shoulder at Chris again. “I-“

“Kitchen and bathroom don’t count. Bro, I’m seriously worried about you.”

Matt blinked in response.

“I miss you,” Chris shrugged, not making eye contact with Matt. “I miss hanging out. You never hang out anymore. You’ll do a video then come hide back in here.”

Matt sighed, slipping his arm out from under his tight bundle of blankets around him, rubbing his tired face. “I’m sorry, just been dealing with a lot.”

“Like what?”

“…Nothing.”

“Please talk to me, man.”

“You just…” Matt paused, wanting to find the nicest way possible to explain this to Chris. “You don’t take things seriously.”

Chris shook his head immediately at Matt’s accusation. “I can tell when I need to take something seriously.“

Matt sighed. “Can we talk about it tonight? I just wanna sleep a little longer…”

Chris didn’t respond for a while. He wanted to talk about it now, he wanted to fix everything that his brother was going through. It pained him seeing Matt in a funk like this. The last time something like this happened was in junior year, and Chris never wanted a repeat of that for either of them. He didn’t want to leave Matt alone. If he could cancel the meeting entirely, he would. He would cancel it and lay in bed with his brother and wait however long he needed to talk.

“I can’t cancel the meeting. Are…Are you gonna be alright?” Chris’s fingers picked at the chipped paint on the doorway.

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll call me if you need something?”

“Yeah, man. I’ll be alright.”

Chris nodded. The sound of Nick’s footsteps vibrated above them as he came down the stairs, walking around the corner and peeking into Matt’s room as well. “No luck?”

“He’s tired.”

“He’s been ‘tired’ for the past fifteen days-“

Chris shot Nick a look. “He’s tired.”

Nick nodded, getting the hint. “Gotcha. We’ll bring home some lunch, do you want anything?”

Matt grunted softly. “I don’t care.”

“Alright,” Nick replied. It made his blood boil when Matt was short with him or moody, but he knew Matt didn’t mean to act this way. He was constantly stuck in his own head, constantly battling his thoughts, and it just so happened to be one of those periods. A temporary setback. Matt always bounced back, but it never failed to worry Chris and Nick nonetheless. “We’ll be home in a few hours. Love you.”

“Love you, Matt.”

“Love you,” Matt replied, letting his body relax again. He was beyond grateful that they weren’t trying to drag him out of bed this time around. He rolled over onto his favorite side and nuzzled back under the covers, letting his body drift back off to sleep.

I really love you

I’ve always loved you.

The heat rose to his cheeks as her words played over and over again in his head. ‘I really love you, I’ve always loved you.’ Oh god, and she looked so pretty in his t-shirt. He could almost smell her perfume, the same scent she had worn for years. The same scent Matt grew to love. The scent he craved to get even the smallest whiff of whenever she was near. The scent that would get trapped in the fabric of his hoodies after she had borrowed them, which he refused to launder until the scent was gone entirely. Wisps of vanilla and rose petals that would infect him, his mind, his thoughts…

Knock knock knock.

Matt groaned, closing his eyes tighter, hoping the sound would stop. Warmth enveloped his face as her soft hands cupped his face. Matt felt his heart pound against his chest. Her words were like heroin, he wanted more. He wanted to hear her talk to him for hours. Before he could even think of what to say, her lips pressed against his. He cupped her face, his lips moving slowly against hers as they shared a passionate kiss. She smelled sweet like candy, and her lips tasted like sugared lemon drops; her favorite lip balm, which quickly became Matt’s favorite as well.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

Ten more minutes. Please let me stay here for ten more minutes.

Her hand caressed his cheek, their noses brushing together as she moved impossibly closer to him. Neither of them initiated for the kiss to deepen, though Matt wasn’t complaining in the slightest. This was enough for him. The tenderness, the passion, the love…it was more than enough for him. He pulled back for a moment, still close enough to feel her lips brush against his as she caught her breath. “I love you.”

BAM BAM BAM

Matt huffed, opening his eyes once again. He groaned softly as he became suddenly aware of the tent in his boxers. Not even safe in my dreams. Rolling himself out of bed, Matt sat at the edge of his mattress, looking at his reflection in the mirror leaning against his wall. He had to admit, he was looking rough. His hair was a god awful mess, sticking out in awkward directions, his cowlick refusing to flatten when he ran his fingers through his hair. His cheeks were sunken, though it was hard to tell with his unkempt facial hair growing in. The bags under his eyes were dark, his lips were dry and cracked; he looked rough.

BAM

Those fucking assholes. Matt pulled on his pyjama pants, after adjusting his cock in his boxers, and stepped out of his room, hissing at the cold hardwood floor under his feet. He began to make his way to the front door, heading down the steps that led to their front entryway. “Fuck, you idiots have keys why can’t you ever fucking use them,” he grunted, unlocking the front door. “Why do I have to be the responsib-“ his voice caught in his throat as he swung the door open, his gaze landing on her. She looked up at him, her eyebrows furrowing together as their eyes locked.

“Oh…hi Matty.”

Matt swallowed his words, looking down at his feet, suddenly growing quiet. Matty. Even after all of this time, even after the long restless nights staring at his old messages with her, wanting nothing more than to call her and hear her gentle voice again, she addressed him by his nickname. The one he claimed to hate, though they both knew that wasn’t the case. Three weeks with no contact, and she treated him just the same as she had before. The question plagued his mind after the second day of ghosting her, wondering if she would be mad at him, wondering if she would treat him differently. How foolish of him.

“Hey, kid,” he mumbled, his voice gravely and low.

“Are…um…Nick and Chris here?” She asked.

“You just missed them…They went to a meeting with Laura.”

“And you didn’t?”

Matt shrugged his shoulders, leaning against the doorway. “I wasn’t feeling good,” he stated. Not necessarily a lie, he just knew he couldn’t explain the whole truth to her.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” She asked him. Matt felt his heart drop into his stomach. She sniffled softly. His head snapped up and, suddenly, Matt’s behavior felt ridiculous to him. He had shut her out, he had pushed her away without even a second thought as to what she might feel or think. He examined her face; the same dark shadows under her eyes, the hollowing of her cheeks that now matched his. “Can I come in?” She tried to ask, but he heard the break in her voice. He saw her lip quiver as she spoke. He took note of her tugging at her sleeves in an attempt to distract herself from her emotional state.

He wanted to scream, not at her but at himself. How could he have put her through this? It was selfish of him, to say the very least.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he stepped aside, allowing her to walk past him into the house. “Um, I think Nick and Chris will be back fairly soon,” Matt explained to her as he shut the front door, locking it behind him out of habit. He turned to face her. “I’m sure they don’t mind you hanging out in one of their rooms or something,” he mumbled, his gaze never meeting hers.

“Please look at me.”

Matt obliged, looking up to meet her eyes, almost as if he was waiting for the command to do it. He felt his mouth go dry, and suddenly all of the words he knew became a jumbled mess of unintelligible alphabet soup in his head. “You haven’t talked to me in weeks…Did…Did I do something to upset you?” She asked him, worry and sincerity clear in her tone. She spoke slowly, thoughtfully; she didn’t want to come off like she was accusing him of anything.

“No,” Matt started, licking his dry lips as he looked at her. Even now, exhausted and clearly hurt by the situation at hand, she still looked beautiful. He could look at her all day and never grow tired of it. “You didn’t do anything to upset me.” He could feel his hands growing clammy, his hands balling into fists and slipping into his pockets.

“I must’ve done something… I mean, it's been three weeks, Matt,” she whispered.

Matt pursed his lips, his heart ramming against his chest. Without warning, Matt felt his eyes glossing over, his lip trembling. “I did something awful, and I…I fucking hate myself so much,” he rasped. He watched as her beautiful, encapsulating eyes widened. She stepped toward him, concern written across her face, her hand reaching out to touch his bicep.

You’re disgusting, Matt. How could you put her through this? All for your own selfish benefit. What will she do when you tell her? She has every right to hate you. She’d be stupid not to. You’re a greedy, disgusting creep.

“Matty? Talk to me.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. “Please?” Her hand grasped his bicep ever so gently, and Matt looked down at her. It was like she had turned a light on inside of him. The jumbled mess tangled in his brain became undone in seconds. He felt the world come to a standstill. He could breathe again.

He hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath.

With a sharp exhale, Matt pursed his lips; something that had become a habit of his. “You’re gonna hate me.”

She let out a soft laugh. “I could never hate you.”

Matt stayed quiet, looking down at the floor. It didn’t take long for her soft fingers to rest beneath his chin, gently lifting his head to meet her gaze once again. Matt could have melted as he basked in the beautiful light of her smile. He felt her hand slip upwards to cup his cheek, her soft fingers brushing against the gruff texture of his messy facial hair. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Sorry for what?” She asked, her words laced with confusion, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at him. “Matt, please talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

Matt sighed. He pulled away from her touch and made his way up the stairs, her following close behind him. He went and took a seat on the couch in the living room, his elbows digging into his knees as he held his head in his hands. He wanted to tell her, she deserved to know. It wasn’t right for him to keep this from her…but God he was terrified to know what she’d think of him. The seat next to him sunk down as she took a seat beside him, gently rubbing his arm to soothe him. “Matt?”

“I…really like you,” he whispered. “Like, really like you.”

“Matt…I like you too-”

“No,” he shook his head. “I have liked you for fucking years and I’ve always pussied out of telling you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to risk losing our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. I tried to ignore it for years, but…” he trailed off, taking a second to breathe. He needed to relax, to give himself time to put together exactly what he wanted to say and exactly how he wanted to say it. “I mean, I’ve liked you since middle school. I always thought you were funny and pretty and kind…Nick and Chris tried to set me up so many times so I could ask you out, but I just…I couldn’t do it.” He rubbed his face, his heart ramming against his chest from finally having the courage to tell her everything. After all of these years, his secret was out. “I never wanted to cut you off or ignore you, but after what you said that night-”

“What do you mean?” She asked, looking at him in confusion. “What did I say?”

His heart stung a little. You don’t even remember…You don’t even remember telling me you loved me. Do you remember kissing me? Did it mean anything to you? Was it all just a drunken mistake to you? What am I thinking? Of course it meant nothing. I’m nothing, no one. “You said you loved me,” he replied simply, still refusing to make eye contact with her.

“I…I said that?”

Matt nodded. “You kissed me, too.”

“I…I don’t even remember that…” she admitted.

“That doesn’t surprise me, you were pretty drunk. I figured it was all just some drunken mistake,” he sighed.

She shook her head, moving closer to his side. “Just because I was drunk doesn’t mean it was a mistake.”

“You don’t even remember it,” he reminded her.

His heart stopped as her fingers gently traced his jaw, his head turning to meet her gaze. She was close, too close. He could smell her perfume, it made him feel dizzy just thinking about burying his face into her neck to drown himself in it. She looked deep into his eyes, Matt could have melted at the warmth in her gaze. “Help me remember,” she whispered, searching for any glimpse of hesitation or uncertainty in his eyes. He felt her lean in closer to him and he mirrored her, leaning in as well.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

She didn’t respond, not verbally anyways. Her hand caressed his cheek, fingers brushing against his messy stubble. She closed the gap between them, her soft lips gently pressing against Matt’s. He felt his face heat up, warmth flooding his cheeks, she could surely feel it on her fingertips. He kissed her back slowly. Is this real? Please let this be real. If this is a dream, please let me stay here forever.

Engulfed in a wave of passion, she pressed her free hand against his chest, her manicured nails gently grasping at the fabric of his shirt. Her head was swirling, her stomach churning as he cupped her face in his hands, their intimacy growing with each moment that passed by. He could hardly think straight, all he could focus on was her. The intoxicating scent of her perfume that had him feeling faint, the sweet taste of her lemon flavored lip balm, her soft skin caressing his; every thought he had was about her. It was always about her.

He didn’t break the kiss for a second, he pulled her into him, his arms hooking around her and lifting her up as he rose to his feet. He smiled as she giggled into the kiss, humming softly against her lips. Matt felt her legs hook around his waist and he prayed that she couldn’t feel his erection pressing against her. He carried her swiftly to his bedroom, blindly shutting the door behind him with his foot. Tossing her onto his bed, a soft squeal escaped her and she looked up at him with her eyes that were sparkling with excitement. Matt crawled onto the bed, moving slowly, almost prowling like a predator, his arms resting on either side of her head to hold himself up above her. “I’m never letting you go again,” Matt mumbled softly, pressing a kiss to her soft sweet lips.

She brought her hands up to his messy hair, tangling her fingers in the soft waves. “Don’t,” she murmured back, taking his bottom lip between her teeth. Matt groaned, the blood rushing to more than just his cheeks. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck at the feeling of her thigh lifting, his cock aching under the fabric of his thin pyjama pants. “F-Fuck, don’t do that.” He bit softly at her shoulder, sloppy open mouthed kisses trailing down to her collarbone. “I…I won’t be able to control it.”

“I don’t want you to,” she breathed out.

Matt felt her thigh lift again, and he gave in. He rolled his hips, a low growl emitting from the back of his throat. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he grunted against her skin, nipping softly at her neck once more. He felt her fingers tug at his hair and Matt looked up to meet her lustful gaze. “I do,” she argued. Her eyes flickered to his lips, and she licked hers in anticipation. Matt’s dick throbbed, he could feel the precum dampening the fabric of his boxers. You do. You know how long I’ve wanted this because you’ve wanted it to. You’ve wanted me.

Matt’s breath caught in his throat, his brain hardly having the time to keep up with everything that was happening. He gasped as she pushed him off of her, his back landing softly against the mattress. He watched in awe as she hooked her leg over his thighs, straddling his waist, the bulge in his pants being far from unnoticeable at this point. His eyes traced every inch of her body, his mind only being able to process how beautiful she looked. Her hair fell in dark waves over her shoulders, her skin glowed in the soft orange haze emitting from the LED strips taped to his ceiling. Reaching one hand up, Matt gently dragged his knuckle along her cheek. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered, his fingers delicately tucking her hair behind her ear. His lips connected with hers again, pulling her body closer to his.

Not bearing the thought of breaking the kiss, Matt blindly fumbled with the drawstrings of his pyjama pants. Sensing the desperation from him, she moved her hands down to his lap to assist his failing attempts. The soft graze of her fingers over his crotch made his cock jolt, his hips bucking forward as a whorish moan fell from his lips into her mouth. Her teeth gently nipped at his bottom lip as she kissed him, her confidence never faltering. Her soft hands slipped under the waistband of his pants. Matt was almost sure he was going to cum on the spot. Her fingers dragged slowly along the dick print in his boxers, and Matt found it very difficult to focus. She was so gentle. Matt could feel the warmth from her palm as her hand cupped him. His lips had trouble keeping up with hers. His mind flooded with adrenaline and dopamine. “I need you,” he exhaled, his nose brushing against hers, lips ghosting over her own. “Please, I’ve needed you for so long.”

She laughed softly. “How do you want me, Matty?”

“Just like this,” he whispered, pressing his lips softly to the corner of her mouth, kissing down to her jaw. He pulled her closer to him, groaning softly as her hips moved against his ever so slightly. “Please, I wanna see you. I wanna watch you,” he mumbled, his lips now pressed to the underside of her jaw, sucking softly at her skin. He dreamed of this for years; kissing her, marking her, letting everyone know that she was his.

She gasped softly, her head falling to the side to allow Matt access to her neck. The softest of whines fell from her lips, doing nothing to ease Matt’s excitement. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he hummed, his voice coated thick with desire. His teeth nipped at her soft skin. His hands ran up her sides and swiftly over her chest. His fingers trembled as he hesitantly let his hands rest on the plush of her breasts. His breath felt hot against her skin, his rhythm faltered slightly. He stopped for a moment to admire her, looking up to meet her gaze. Matt swallowed his nerves, panting softly from the pure sensual intimacy. It was the furthest he had ever gone and it was driving him crazy. Twenty years old and it was the first time he had held a woman this close to him, the first time he had ever felt the weight of a woman’s breasts in his hands, the first time he had ever left a mark on someone.

She could tell that he was nervous; she found it cute. His inexperience, his shy demeanor, his soft touches. It was driving her crazy. Her hands came down to rest on top of his, and almost immediately he went to pull away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but was shocked when she grasped his wrists, bringing his hands back to her chest. His dick ached in his boxers, a feeling he was all too familiar with when it came to her. She closed the gap between them, leaning in and kissing him once more. His hands were steady now, his confidence boosted. A wave of courage surged through him, his hands squeezing her soft breasts as he kissed her. She hummed against his lips, a sound that he was still learning to get used to.

His fingers tugged at the fabric of her shirt. “Please,” his voice muffled against her lips, afraid that if he pulled away it would all disappear. She didn’t need him to say anything more though, and she pulled away from the kiss for a moment, just long enough to pull her shirt off over her head and toss it blindly onto the floor of Matt’s bedroom. Matt’s hands cupped her breasts once again, grunting softly against her plump lips as his fingers came in contact with her bra. “You couldn’t make this easy for me, huh?” he breathed out, looking up through his enviously long eyelashes at her as his hands snaked behind her. She giggled softly, her own hands holding his shoulders to keep herself steady. “To be fair, I didn’t think we’d end up here. I thought you hated me,” she hummed.

“I could never hate you,” he repeated her words from earlier, his large hands encompassing her breasts. She whimpered, pursing her lips. “I’ve loved you for too long to ever hate you.”

He pressed kisses to her chest, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her perfume. His fingers fumbled with the clasp of her bra. Any confidence he had built washed away as the clasp stayed clipped behind her. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried again to unclasp it but to no avail. He huffed in annoyance. “This is fucking stupid.”

“Need some help?” She laughed softly, reaching behind her and swiftly unclasping her bra. Matt ran his hands gently up to her shoulders, slipping the straps of her bra down her arms. He watched in awe as the fabric fell from her chest, revealing her perfect ample breasts. All he could do was stare for a solid minute, admiring her in every way possible. They were absolutely perfect. They were heavy but still somehow perky, her pink nipples hardened under his gaze. He licked his lips. She blushed as he stared at her, not used to the intimate tension between them. “Stop,” she whispered, bringing her hands up to hide her face, her arms covering her chest. Matt’s strong hands grasped her wrists delicately, pulling her hands away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You’re just-”

“I know,” she sighed.

Matt raised an eyebrow, seeing the way her expression changed. “I don’t think you do...” He let his gaze flicker down to her chest once again, a soft moan echoing at the back of his throat, his cock throbbing in his boxers. “Can I touch you?”

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, answering him with a single nod of her head. Her arms fall to her sides, allowing him access to her chest once again. He grazed her chest with his rough fingers, his thumb brushing over her hardened nipple. The sound she made was like a drug, he wanted it injected into his veins. He softly pinched her nipples, his palms cupping the weight of her chest. She watched him as soft moans fell from her lips, all she could think about was how badly she craved him. How badly she wanted him. Matt lifted her breasts ever so slightly before letting go of them, watching them fall back to their resting position. He reached behind him, tugging the hem of his shirt up over his head. He blindly tossed his shirt to the side, not caring where it landed. Once it was off of him, Matt pulled her body even closer to his, their chests pressing together. Matt cupped her cheek, kissing her hungrily. Their lips moved together passionately, synchronizing perfectly.

She moaned softly, reaching between them and slipping her hand under the waistband of his pants. “So big, Matty,” she whispered softly against his lips, a shiver running down his spine as the warmth of her hand cupped him through his underwear once again. Jaw going slack, Matt let out yet another sound of bliss. He felt himself aching for her, aching to be inside of her. He needed it. He’d die without it. “I need you, Matt,” she admitted, stroking him at an agonizingly slow pace. His voice caught in his throat as he kissed her, his hands slipping from her waist to tug his pyjama bottoms down. He groaned, slipping his thumbs under the band of his pants and boxers, sliding them down to his thighs. His cock stood proudly, his tip red and swollen as his arousal leaked from his slit.

She parted from the kiss for a moment, looking down at his lap. Her mouth watered at the sight of his erection. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it. He was big, at least seven or eight inches. He kept the hair trimmed and neat. He had the most perfect dick she had ever laid her eyes on. He took his cock in his large hand, stroking himself slowly as she watched him. Matt groaned again. “You did this,” he mumbled lowly. “You make me feel like this. Look at what you do to me.” He panted, coating his shaft with the precum leaking into his hand. “F-Fuck, I’m so tired of my hand, baby. Been wanting you for months.”

He watched as she shimmied out of her own shorts, kicking them off of her and onto the floor with the rest of their discarded clothes. She sat herself on his thighs, her fingers tracing over her heat through her panties. Matt practically drooled at the sight of her arousal pooling in her underwear. Her fingers circled over her clit slowly, her lip catching between her teeth. Matt fisted at his cock, his gaze never daring to tear away from her. He let out a shaky breath, his hair falling in front of his face, his swollen pink lips parting as whorish whines forced their way out of his throat. “You did this,” she copied. Sliding her nimble fingers over the patch of wetness her arousal had made. He groaned, licking his lips. He watched her breasts rise and fall with each breath she took, her plush thighs pressing against either side of his as she sat on his lap. Matt used his free hand to touch her waist, thumbing at her soft skin. Her eyelids were heavy, her eyes glossed over with desire and longing.

Matt hesitated. He wanted to move forward, he wanted to continue. His nerves got the best of him though, and he froze. This was real. This was happening. And he had no idea how to move forward with it. Maybe I should have had sex before this, maybe then I wouldn’t be so awkward and nervous. What do I do now? Do I touch her? Do I kiss her again?

As if she could sense it, she leaned in and kissed him softly. “Don’t think too much, you’re doing great,” she whispered. His heart swelled at her praiseful words. “I’m sorry-” he started, but she stopped him with another swift kiss on the lips. She pulled her underwear down and kicked them off, leaving herself bare in front of him. Matt kissed her back, bringing both of his hands down to her waist. She hummed against his lips, hooking her arms around his shoulders.

Matt laid back against the pillows once more, pulling her hips toward him. “Let me taste you,” he hummed. “Please.”

She obliged, letting him maneuver her to exactly where he wanted her. Matt’s fingers dug into the plush skin of her thighs, pulling her hips down toward his face. She gasped, feeling the warmth of his tongue delicately lick a stripe up her heat. Her fingers knotted in his hair, her stomach lurching as she took a sharp inhale. A cocky smile tugged at his lips. Matt pressed a supple kiss to her clit, one of his hands sliding up her thigh. He flattened his tongue against her drooling pussy, moaning as her arousal coated his tongue. The taste was unlike anything he had ever experienced. She was sweet, like freshly picked cherries. Juicy and ripe with flavor. Matt licked another stripe through her folds, circling her clit gently with his tongue. His nose brushed softly against her pelvis. Every breath he took filled his lungs with the sweet scent of vanilla, his head was spinning as it infected his brain, encapsulating every thought of his. He flicked his tongue, earning a sweet mewl of pleasure from her. He did it again, receiving the same rewarding sound in return.

Matt kissed her clit again, sucking ever so delicately. He felt her squirm above him and he slipped his hands up to her waist, holding her still. He flicked his tongue over her clit again and again, loving the beautiful sounds she made, the sounds that he made her make. He couldn’t hold back any longer, he needed to have her. He pulled her hips down to feel the weight of her on top of him. He shook his head slightly, burying his face between her thighs, his nose brushing against her bundle of nerves as he swirled his tongue experimentally between her folds. She gasped, rocking her hips against his face. Matt groaned, finding the sight above him almost pornographic. He had only dreamed of this moment more times than he could count. He had spent years studying, learning all of the things that women loved and hated. He wasn’t going to ruin his shot with her.

“M-Matt,” she whined, running her fingers through his messy hair, pushing it out of his face. Matt hummed a soft ‘thank you’ against her, smirking when he got another moan from her in response. “Matty, feels so good,” she sighed, rolling her hips against his face again. He flattened his tongue against her heat. She let her head fall back, continuing to rock her hips to get herself off on his tongue. Matt may have been inexperienced, but he could have fooled her.

“Please, I want you Matt,” she breathed out. “I need to feel you inside of me.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to her clit one last time before releasing his iron grip on her waist, letting her lift her hips. She moved back to straddle his waist, Matt reaching between their bodies. He took ahold of his shaft, gently rubbing his tip through her soaked folds. She whined, lowering her hips. Matt groaned as his tip pressed against her entrance, breathing out sharply as it slipped through her folds again. “F-Fuck,” he grunted, his face flushed with heat. He tried again, lining himself up with her entrance. He choked out a flustered moan as it slipped again, his tip sliding over her clit. Matt felt like he could cry, embarrassed by his inexperience.

“Nice and easy, baby,” she cooed, replacing his hand with her own and lining himself with her entrance once again. She slowly let her hips drop, and Matt gasped as he felt her sink down onto his shaft. His jaw went slack, shaky breaths falling from his lips. Her tight cunt swallowed his cock, a feeling that Matt had been dreaming of for years. He groaned as she took all of him, his hands grasping her waist tightly, fingers digging into her hip bones. “Holy f-fuck.”

“S-So big, Matty,” she exhaled. Matt looked down at where their bodies connected, swallowing the lump in his throat. He moved one of his hands to her lower abdomen, his fingers tracing over the very faint outline of his cock through her skin. “I-Is this supposed to…” he trailed off, pressing his hand softly against her abdomen, earning a high pitched whine from her. She lifted her hips, Matt watching in awe as she sunk back down onto him.

She kept her pace slow and controlled, her pussy clenching around his cock with each rise and fall of her hips. He panted, desire coursing through him. He had never felt pleasure this satisfying before. Jerking off couldnt even begin to compare to this. He had dreamed of this, of what her pussy would feel like around him. It was even better than he could have imagined. The warmth, the tightness, her sounds. Matt whined, closing his eyes tightly. His head fell back against the pillows. He bucked his hips up, choking out a cry as the pleasure flooded through his body. His muscles tightened, his body trembled, his head felt cloudy.

Matt took a second to catch his breath, and then he froze. He opened his eyes, looking up at her with guilt ridden eyes. There’s no fucking way…

“Did you just-”

Matt’s ears glowed red with embarrassment. He watched as she lifted her hips, his cock still erect and standing proudly as she raised herself off of him. Matt felt his stomach tighten as his cum oozed from her entrance, sliding down her thighs. He swallowed, his throat feeling unbelievably dry. There’s no fucking way I just came. It’s been, what? Five minutes?

She looked at him with something in her eyes that he couldn’t describe. Was it disappointment? It had to be.

Matt sat upright, pulling her closer to him. He brushed her hair out of her face, his fingers touching her cheek. “No, no I’m not ready for this to be over,” he mumbled before kissing her hungrily. She let out a surprised moan, her hands coming up to cup his face. He reached between their bodies, lining himself up with her entrance yet again.

He slipped into her with ease, groaning as he bottomed out almost immediately. He brought his large hands down to her ass, guiding her hips. She caught on, rocking her hips at the pace he had set. She moaned against his soft lips, feeling him fill her up with each slow sensual thrust. Matt lifted her up slightly, rolling both of them over so that she was laying beneath him, never pulling away from her for even a second. He held himself up by his forearms, burying himself deep inside of her. A mix between a groan and a growl escaped his throat, his hips bucking forward again to re-live the feeling. “Such a tight pussy, fuck, I knew you’d be tight for me.” He ducked his head down into her neck, sloppy kisses covering her skin . “F-Fuck, baby. Can’t blame me f-for cumming fast when you feel th-this good.”

She whined, acknowledging his words though she couldn’t figure out what to say in response. Her head was clouded with thoughts of him. Her body trembled under his touch. She clenched around him with each thrust he made. She bit her lip, trying her best to hold back her sounds, but Matt wasn’t having it. He brought a hand to her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip, gently pulling it from where it was trapped between her teeth. “Let me hear you, princess.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, a sight that drove him crazy. He began thrusting a little faster, satisfaction feeding his ego when he heard her moans fall from her lips. “Atta girl, fuck you sound so pretty…look so pretty too,” he mumbled. He sharply bucked his hips forward, a pornographic moan escaping her. Matt grunted, repeating the action in a desperate attempt to hear it again. His hand slid down to her chest, his fingers tweaking her nipple just the way she liked it. He watched in amusement as she squirmed beneath him, whining and panting, a complete mess.

His hips snapped forward, his reward being another whorish moan. He was obsessed with the way her ample tits bounced and recoiled with each thrust he made. The headboard began to rock into the wall, knocking against it. “I fucking love you,” he breathed out, burying his face into the crook of her neck. He bit and sucked at her skin, marking her with his lips. “You’re mine,” he growled, nipping at her neck. “Say it. Say you’re my girl.”

She nodded, opening her mouth to speak but only the soft sounds of her enjoyment answered him. He grunted, his arm wrapping around her back, pressing her body against his. “Say it.”

“Y-Yours,” she managed to squeak out. “I love you, I-I’m yours,” she replied.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, thrusting into her again and again, his second orgasm building up inside of him. He felt her clench around his cock, his hips jolting forward. “Want you to cum for me,” he growled, sucking another mark into her skin as he rocked his hips into hers, burying his dick inside of her.

She whined, reaching down between their bodies to rub her clit, her heart pounding, her blood pumping, her breathing growing rapid and uneven. Matt could tell that she was close, he had watched enough porn to know the signs. He felt a sense of pride, he had worried that he wouldn’t perform well his first time but it was proving to be the opposite. “Say my name,” Matt demanded.

“M-Matt-”

“Again.”

“M-Mmph…” she whimpered, body tensing up as her orgasm began to wash over her. Matt grunted in her ear, roughly thrusting into her. “Say my name.”

“F-Fuck, Matt!” she cried out, a string of filthy moans following as she reached her high. Her thighs began to tremble, her body flooded with warmth. Matt groaned as she clenched around him again, and it was the last thing he needed to reach his own orgasm. Matt thrusted his hips a couple more times, riding out his high as he filled her with his load, his cum leaking out of her tight pussy and down his shaft. He breathed heavily as he came down from the euphoric feeling, lifting himself up to look down at her.

She looked up at him with tired eyes, hazy and glossed over with desire. He stroked her cheek, his thumb gently running over her lips. She watched his gaze, no guy had ever looked at her like this before, especially after sex. His eyes held so much love and adoration. “I hope you know I’m never gonna be able to get over you.”

She laughed softly, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. “Who said you’d need to?”

𝔄𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔯'𝔰 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢: trust me, im cooking. He didn't tell her the 'awful thing he did' for a reason.

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