#the tears in his eyes in the first two gifs- i cut out the part where they pan out to show the black goo forming so it stays longer on dean

[gothcsz]

West Side | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 5 of Unscripted Desire | ~15k wc | Series Masterlist | gif cred | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: A lot of firsts with Javi.

Tags: smut, slight angst, nipple play, dry humping, lots of making out, alcohol consumption, dirty talk, jealousy, edging, overstimulation, use of sex toys (vibrator), oral (f receiving), cum eating, unprotected p in v sex (finally), javi is clipped (not mentioned), babe wake up pornstar!javi lore just dropped, no use of y/n, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

A/N: i attempted to make this chapter a little longer, definitely filthier, and above all: satisfying. shoutout to my bestie hermosa @persephone-girl for reading over part of this and quelling all the second thoughts i had in the middle of writing it out 🖤 love you guys, enjoyyyy ✨

You purse your lips at your reflection, tilting your head as if a new angle will make everything click. The phone is wedged between your shoulder and ear, and Connie’s voice crackles over the line, keeping you company. 

“Since when do you care so much about getting dolled up?” she teases, picking up on the way you’re fussing.

You tug the hem of the dress down a bit, “That’s not even the issue here,” you counter, a little more defensively than you meant. “It’s just… what do you even wear on a date with someone like Javier?”

Connie lets out a sly laugh. “Well, if I knew more about him, maybe I’d be able to help you out here.”

You huff, rolling your eyes even though she can’t see it, leaning closer to the mirror as you swipe at the mascara wand. “You’re still on that?”

“It’s not every day that my friend leaves with a man like that at the end of her shift, only to find out he’s some annoyingly hot coworker she didn’t even bother mentioning—”

“There was nothing to mention,” you cut in quickly.

“Nothing to mention?” she repeats, scandalized. “He ate you out in an elevator, you talked an orgasm out of him, and you let him slip the tip of his dick inside—”

“Okay!” You cut her off again, voice a bit higher than intended. “Shouldn’t you be out saving lives or something?”

“Currently on day two, hour nine, of my three-twelves.” Her sigh fills your ear. “I’m exhausted. Let me live through your smokin’ sex life so I don’t tear my hair out.”

“Steve not doing it for you anymore?” you tease, rubbing away a bit of lipstick that smudged onto your teeth.

“Oh, he is, but after three overnight shifts? Even the thought of sex is exhausting,” she admits, a laugh edging her words. 

You get it; distinctively thinking about the last spring break week where you worked non-stop, running from shoots all day to the bar all night on three hours of sleep.

That was definitely the week you aged five years in one go.

“Now, back to you,” she snaps you out of your memories. “What did you finally decide on?”

“The black dress.” You say it like it’s the only logical choice.

She groans, dragging it out for dramatic effect. “No. You wear that thing out all the time.”

“I bought it for a reason. To wear it.”

“Oh, come on. I think you should switch it up a little. Make it more fun.”

“Fun?” you echo, skeptical, glancing over at your closet.

“Fun,” she confirms, “like that mini skirt with the flowy fabric. Makes your ass look so good and shows just enough cheek to leave him hanging,” she says all playfully, “Just throw on a top that shows the girls off and you’ll be set. It’s flirty and hot… exactly like your little boy toy and way fresher than a black dress.”

You snort, feeling a little flutter at the mention of Javier being your boy toy. “A classic date-night outfit is classic for a reason, you know?”

“Mhmm, so classic I’m falling asleep. Go grab the skirt and thank me later,” she presses.

You grumble out a fine, deciding to humor her. Maybe you will like it better than the dress.

Rummaging through your closet is a little difficult with the corded phone in your hand but you manage, finally spotting the garment under the mountain of clothes that you’ve just thrown in here and pretended weren’t your problem.

“Where’s he taking you, anyways?”

“No idea, which makes the getting ready process even more difficult. I’m putting you down,” you warn her, setting down the receiver on your dresser.

You toss aside a few ‘not quite’ options before finding a top cute enough for this flirty and hot vision she’s painting. The deep color of it has your skin glowing, the cut of the neckline making your tits look enticing.

The snug skirt teases just enough at your thighs and you do a half turn, glancing back at the mirror to check your own ass out—and damn if she wasn’t on the money.

“Okay, I’m back.”

“And?”

You pause, smiling as you take in your reflection. “I look hot.”

There’s a sharp, delighted squeal on her end. “See? I told you! That’s what friends are for—giving you advice you don’t listen to until you’re basically forced to.”

Her laugh makes you grin, but then you hear a muffle as she talks to someone else in the background. She comes back, tone rushed but still playful. “Alright, I’m being called back onto the floor. But seriously, have fun. Don’t put out unless you want to, and please, please, don’t wait months to fill me in, okay?”

“I won’t,” you chuckle, her instructions making you feel like you’re back in high school. “Thanks, Con.”

“Go get him, you vixen,” she teases, and the line goes dead, leaving you with your thoughts.

You’ve been doing everything possible not to spiral into overthinking, trying to act normal about this date. Part of you still can’t believe it’s actually happening.

You’ve fought him, resisted him, silently judged others for falling for his charms—yet somehow still managed to give in.

If someone had told you months ago that you’d be in this position, you would’ve straight up laughed in their face.

The whole trajectory of it feels warped. You can’t help but wonder if this is all some elaborate game, a long con to get you in his bed.

But then, the doubts don’t quite hold up, not with how much effort he’s put into just getting your attention. If it were about sex, he wouldn’t need all this—he could walk outside, flash that lazy, dimpled grin, and probably have someone falling for him within seconds.

Hell, he could call one of his co-stars and make it that much easier on himself.

Yet, he keeps choosing you, showing up with this sincerity that’s completely messed with your head, confessing feelings and sticking around like he’s actually serious. He’s taken over your mind, lingering there like a sexy, infuriating ghost.

At least you’ve given yourself an ultimatum: if this goes south, you’ll walk away and he’ll leave you alone.

You still remember how low you felt after things with Frankie, and that was amicably ended. 

With Javier, it would sting worse if he turned out to be the arrogant womanizer you’d pegged him as after all the shit that’s transpired between the two of you.

You finish getting ready and head into the kitchenette, grabbing a shot glass. You pour yourself a quick splash of Fireball, hoping it’ll help you feel a little more mellow, maybe a little less wound-up. You toss it back, letting the burn calm the nerves that won’t stop buzzing as the minutes drag by.

Then, you hear the familiar creak of the stairs, the soft shuffle of footsteps, followed by a knock at the door. Your heart skips a beat.

With a deep breath, you slip on a light jacket and grab your purse before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

The sight that greets you could knock the air right from your lungs.

His typical black leather jacket stretches across his broad shoulders, a flushed blue shirt underneath, his neck on full display while the top of his chest teases you beneath the few undone buttons.

His jeans fit him perfectly, hugging his narrow waist and leading down to a pair of well-worn leather boots. But what really catches your attention is the single peony he holds delicately in his hand.

“Hey,” you greet, trying to keep it casual, as if your heart isn’t pounding just from seeing him stand there. He is so damn handsome, it almost feels unfair.

His gaze roams over you, like he doesn’t know where to look, definitely lingering on your legs then your cleavage before his warm, brown eyes meet yours. “You look good, nena.” He leaves you feeling like he’s undressing you with just that look.

You bite back a smile and raise an eyebrow, opting to tease him. “Thanks, Javi. You look… exactly how you always do.”

He chuckles, a lazy smile spreading across his face, and you catch a little dimple on his cheek. “Damn. And here I thought I put in more effort tonight.” He licks his lips, then holds out the flower. “This is for you. I might’ve mentioned our night out to my neighbor, and she clipped this from her garden. Thought it was less on the nose than a red rose.”

You take it from him, its soft petals brushing against your fingers, and bring it to your nose. The sweet, fresh scent makes you sigh a little.

He’s doing the bare minimum, bringing you a fucking flower, and you’re already feeling all warm and mushy. You’ll just blame the one shot of whisky for that. “Talking me up already?”

He chuckles, his eyes appreciating the way your makeup highlights each feature.

“Let’s just say I bum cigarettes off her in exchange for a little company. You just happened to come up.”

“Well now I have to know what you said.”

“Maybe one day.”

This moment already feels charged for no reason.

“I’m going to hold you to that” you warn him playfully. “Thank her for me. And tell her she’s got good taste in flowers.”

He gives you a nod, eyes softening. “I will. You ready?”

“Mhm,” you hum, stepping out to lock the door behind you.

As you turn, you realize how close he’s standing, and the scent of mint and cologne hits you in an instant, making your head spin. He smells fucking incredible.

“So,” you start, trying to ignore the fact that you can practically feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Where are we going?”

He falls into step beside you as you both head down the stairs. “To the best food truck in the city.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow, both amused and a little charmed by the casual choice.

He nods, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “It’s by Lake Hollywood Park, which is convenient ‘cause we’ll end our night around there.”

It seems like he has an actual plan for this date, which surprises you, but then again he’s been full of fucking surprises since the moment you met him. “Sounds like fun. Better not be shit though,” you say, adjusting your bag strap on your shoulder, twirling the flower between your fingers.

“I think I’ve lived in L.A. long enough now to know what’s good and what isn’t.”

So he’s not native to this city, which was kind of obvious with the slight twang some of his words seem to have. You wonder where he’s actually from.

As you reach the sidewalk, Javier surprises you by sliding his hand into yours, smooth and confident. The gesture catches you off guard, and you can feel heat pooling at your cheeks. He’s annoyingly charming, and he knows it.

His hand is so much bigger than yours, rough skin brushing against your softer palm in a way that feels—well, it feels like it fits.

Your mind doesn’t miss a beat, leaping straight to the memory of his fingers pressed inside you, knuckle deep, his tongue flicking at your clit as you unraveled for him.

You bite the inside of your lip, willing yourself to stay cool, but damn, those hands could do a lot of things.

How you even fit two of his fingers remains a mystery, but it’s one you’re more than willing to solve again.

“This okay?” he asks, glancing down with a glint of mischief in his eyes, catching you right in the middle of your little lustful trance.

“Perfectly fine,” you reply, squeezing his hand, that glint pulling you in deeper, and you let it.

“Okay, I think I have a little more faith in your spot now that we’re here.” You settle across from Javier at the picnic table you managed to snag nearby, eyeing the food as he sets it out between you.

He smirks, raising an eyebrow. “You doubted me?”

“Just a little.” You pinch your thumb and finger together with a playful grin, scrunching your nose as you laugh. His lopsided smile makes an appearance, sending your heart into a flutter.

“Then I’ll let the food do the talking. Let that be my ‘I told you so.’”

“Oh, please, I don’t need to hear that twice in one day.”

As you stick your straw into your cup of hibiscus agua fresca, the sweet flavor hits you instantly, and you let out a delighted little hum without even thinking.

His gaze snaps to you, amusement lighting up his eyes. “Someone’s already beaten me to it?”

“Connie,” you confess, dragging your tray of tacos closer and inhaling the smell that makes your stomach practically growl. “She helped me pick this outfit, you know, since someone here was pretty vague on the details.” 

He chuckles, reaching for the salsa verde and giving his tacos a generous drizzle before handing the bottle over. “I told you we’d be outside. I thought that’d be enough.” 

You take it from him, fingers brushing together, and damn if your skin doesn’t actually tingle. “Honestly, I was expecting more of a steakhouse vibe.”

He gives a soft scoff, looking amused. “That’s not really my style. I’d feel like a total fraud…” he pauses, studying your expression, “unless that’s what you wanted. I could do it if that’s what you’re into.”

Your tongue darts over your lower lip as you take in his thoughtfulness. “Nah. This is...perfect, actually.”

A light sparks in his eyes at your word choice. “Perfect, huh?”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Uh huh, don’t get a big head over it.”

“So, I owe Connie for getting you in that skirt?” His voice is smooth, that teasing lilt unmistakable.

Heat climbs up your neck, pooling at your cheeks. “You like it?”

His eyes narrow slightly, that look dark and appreciative. “I think it’s sexy as hell, yeah. But in an effort to be more...gentlemanly—Te ves hermosa. Like always.”

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him laying it on thick, but right now? You don’t mind it at all.

The attention feels genuine, his words dipping straight between your legs rather than floating on his usual bravado.

“Sweet talk me all you want,” you say, trying to rein yourself in, “but the real test of this date’s success? It all lies in this meal.”

He chuckles, and you’re grateful for the little shift, picking up a taco and clinking it with his, like a toast. The first bite is practically life-changing—the smoky, spicy flavors somehow better than you’d even anticipated.

“Oh wow,” you say, chewing slowly with a hand hovering over your mouth. “Not bad, Peña. This is actually delicious.”

His grin is smug, triumphant, and as he takes another bite, you’re momentarily distracted by the way his jaw flexes, muscles taut as he chews. And damn, if you don’t notice every bit of him in that damn leather jacket, his dark hair slightly tousled and looking as if he were some walking sex deity. 

You mentally curse yourself for already feeling way too into him. 

You chat lightly, going over the usual first-date questions. Somehow, even the simple stuff feels easy and natural with him—there’s something in the way he responds that keeps you drawn in, even if the questions themselves aren’t all that thrilling.

What’s your favorite color? When’s your birthday? Where are you from?

“Texas. And you?” he answers, swiping the napkin over his lips before balling it up, tossing it into his now empty tray.

So he’s a southern boy. That detail definitely adds to his charm. You tell him the name of your hometown, and then, after a beat, add, “Bit far from home, huh? Got family here?”

He shakes his head, reaching into his jacket for a pack of gum. He pulls out two pieces, offering you one.

Okay, another bare minimum act that’s got you all fucking blushy.

“Nah,” he says, chewing his own piece of gum. “It’s just me out here.”

“Your family must be thrilled about what you do…wait, do they know?” you ask, unwrapping the stick and glancing at him.

He sighs, scratching at his jaw. “My pops knows. My mom…” He pauses, a shadow of something crosses his face. “She passed when I was in high school.”

Your heart squeezes, a flicker of guilt making you wince. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t sweat it,” he interrupts gently, waving it off casually. “It gets tiring hearing it. But yeah, my pops and the rest of them…they don’t exactly jump for joy when it comes to my job. Guess it’s a good thing I stopped giving a fuck about what they think.”

The reality of it sinks in as you watch him across the table, his eyes distant for a moment. You’d never really thought about how it all might affect him (or any of the other stars, honestly) outside of sets and studios.

The world sees sex work as some kind of sordid choice, casting assumptions.

Sure, it’s got its problematic aspects just like any other industry, but with the puritan culture that’s plagued society since the beginning of time, really, it’s seen as such a devious thing when in reality; it could be something so beautiful. A celebration of the human body, of the unity between two people.

Whether you’re a woman or a man—you bear the weight of every stereotype, every judgment, and, especially, the stigma that comes with it.

You hesitate, but your curiosity gets the best of you. “Are you close with them?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he absently smooths his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, eyes thoughtful. “Yes and no.”

Something in his tone tells you this isn’t a thread to pull on right now. So, you pivot the conversation, deciding to leave that part of him for another night.

You glance at your tray, grinning. “This might actually be the best meal I’ve had in a long time. And I’m not bullshitting you.”

His eyes light up, that charming, lazy smile sliding back into place. “I’ll refrain from saying I told you so.”

You laugh, throwing a crumpled napkin at him, which he catches without missing a beat.

He leans in, his voice low. “So, now that I’ve won your approval in the food department, I’ve gotta finish on a strong note so I don’t mess it all up, right?”

You feel your pulse quicken “Sure do. Got anything up your sleeve, or is this where the gentlemanly plan ends?”

“I’ve got plans.” His voice dips, his eyes tracing over you, wetting his lips and that thudding begins to thrum faintly between your thighs. “Thought we’d take a walk, keep getting to know each other…” The suggestive way in which he’s speaking definitely gives his words a double meaning, “Then head to my favorite lookout spot. Best view in the city, hands down.Whatever happens to feel right can unfold after that.”

“Sounds like you’re anticipating something unfolding.”

“Can you blame me? You’re walkin’ around lookin’ good enough to eat.”

You feel a thrill dancing up your spine at his bluntness, “Boundaries still stand, Javi. I’m not sleeping with you.”

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound that sends your stomach into a twist. “That’s fine. I think I’ve shown we can have plenty of fun without crossing that line.”

Every electrifying sexual encounter hits you all at once, and as much as you’d hate to admit it, he’s right. 

No one has ever gotten under your skin or tangled your senses like he does. With Javier, the tension builds until it’s all-consuming—whether it’s the way his hands map every inch of your skin or his mouth works you over. It’s maddening, how easily he pulls you apart and leaves you craving more.

“And If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the one begging for more.”

A hot flash sweeps through you. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

He grins, not missing a beat. “Admit it, you like it.”

And as you share an amused glance, you can’t help but think… yeah, maybe you do.

The two of you walk side by side under the soft glow of the street lights lining the park. He flicks open his lighter, cigarette wedged between his lips, and you watch the quick flame as it lights up his face for a second before fading out.

You would usually mind the smoke, but somehow, with him, it’s just… fitting. A small indulgence that somehow suits his edges.

“Favorite music genre?” you ask, breaking the quiet.

“Would it be a cop-out to say a little bit of everything?”

“Oh absolutely.”

Javier pauses, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Alright, alright. Probably rap. Used to be all about rock—my pops had me hooked young. But out here? My taste has gotten a little West Coast.”

“A Texan boy gone Cali,” you say, feigning surprise. “You love to see it.”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling as he glances at you, then flips the question back. “What about you?”

“R&B. Lauryn Hill and Destiny’s Child have provided the soundtracks to some very pivotal moments in my life.”

He nods, and for a while, the conversation flows smoothly from one topic to another—favorite childhood memories, the dumb stuff you did as teenagers, and random things you never imagined you’d share with him.

Javi raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I bet you were a teacher’s pet.”

“Teacher’s pet? No way. I was a bit of a know-it-all, but I had this rebellious streak,” you admit, “Got in trouble more than once for talking back. I just couldn’t help it.”

“Figures. You’ve got that fire.” 

Eventually, he flicks his cigarette to the ground, stamping it out before looking at you with a curious glint in his eye. “I gotta ask you something,” he says, his voice dipping just a bit. “And be honest. Why didn’t you like me?”

It’s not the first time he’s asked you this, but now that you’re seeing him in a different light, the answer comes easily, less defensive. “Okay,” you start, meeting his gaze. “I wasn’t a fan of how you... got around. And the way you’d micromanage every move during shoots, like your way was always best. Or how you’d just use your dick to get whatever you wanted.”

His silence stretches, and he takes out another piece of gum, nodding slowly as he listens. “And when we met, you were already trying to charm your way into my pants like I was one of your groupies,” you add, “Made it feel like you were always angling for something. I guess I just didn’t want to be another name on your list.”

He exhales, scratching at his jaw. “Fair enough,” he declares. “I didn’t always used to be like this. The whole showboating thing, it’s sort of… a front, I guess. When I started, I had to become a different version of myself. This cocky asshole who had his shit together because… fuck, I didn’t know what else to do. After the bullshit back home, I needed the distance. I needed to prove something.”

There’s something in his tone that pulls at you, but you don’t press. You’re surprised he’s even sharing this much.

“The women, the confidence—all of it. Figured that’s who I had to be to make it. And it worked up until you left… when I realized just how fucked things had gotten for me. After walkin’ out on Robbie, I’ve been trying to be more careful with the jobs I take but fuck, it’s hard.”

This man—this smooth, confident guy you thought you had all figured out—carries more than his rugged allure and that killer smile.

Sympathy blossoms, the kind that grows for someone who’s managed to build walls without even meaning to.

The details remain unsaid, and though curiosity simmers, you let the silence hang.

“You’ll figure it out, Javi. Life has a funny way of kicking you when you’re down, but somehow, things start falling into place eventually. Might sound like a bad fortune cookie, but it’s true.”

His gaze intense and warm under the park lights, brown eyes looking softer, shadows dancing across his face. The way he looks at you makes your legs shake.

You can’t help the small, vulnerable smile that plays at your lips as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, this moment is worth disregarding your own rules for.

His eyes flicker down to your mouth almost on instinct, and you’re caught in a breath, almost tempted to close the space and feel those lips on yours.

But instead, you let the moment breathe between you, keeping the tension electric, and he’s the one who finally breaks the silence. “Thanks nena. Here’s to hopin’ I don’t have to make a trip down to the unemployment office.” He jokes with a laugh that pulls one out of you too, “Let’s head back. Got one more thing to show you.”

As you both turn back towards his truck, he reaches for your hand again, his fingers curling around yours, gentle and reassuring. You lean into him, resting your head on his arm as you walk. It feels natural, like you’re both finally seeing each other, piece by piece, without all the defenses.

A gentle breeze passes through as you lean against the hood of Javier’s truck, taking in the iconic view.

The twinkling city lights are sprawled out in front of you, while the Hollywood sign looms large and proud in the background. You’ve avoided tourist traps since you moved to LA. Dealing with the general public and pornstars on sets on a daily basis already felt like a big enough dose of Hollywood.

Tonight, though, there’s some kind of magic in being here and you can see why people find themselves drawn to it. Maybe it has something to do with the handsome man beside you.

“You bring all your dates here?” you ask, teasingly.

Javier rubs his lips together, a quiet smile flickering at the edges. “I don’t go on many dates, believe it or not.” He inches a little closer, draping his arm around your shoulder.

“Oh wow, Peña. So smooth.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the steady, intoxicating scent of him, the one that’s been teasing you all night, and how it engulfs you entirely.

There’s a warmth that reaches from his body to yours, one you can’t help but lean into as your hand finds his, fingers lacing loosely.

Resting your head just near his chest, you feel the gentle rise and fall of his breath, solid and steady.

“Can’t let this night end without you knowin’ what my intentions are.” He pauses, then adds, “I want to keep seeing you.” His words melt into the night as he dips his head to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his face nuzzling softly into your hair.

Your breath catches for just a moment, and he feels it too, the faint hesitation creeping in.

Because the truth is, you’re not sure exactly what you want from this. A relationship? A fling? Could you handle being with someone whose job meant fucking other people—even if emotions are fully detatched?

You draw away slightly, positioning yourself to stand between his legs now as he leans against the truck, watching you, a question in his eyes.

“Tonight was wonderful. Better than a lot of first dates I’ve been on…” you trail off, and he quirks an eyebrow, a hint of concern already flashing in his eyes.

“But…?” he prompts, his voice soft but wary.

“Look, I have the utmost respect for what you do. I know what it takes, if anyone can understand what you actors go through, it’s me and all the other crews out there. I’ve seen shit hit the fan more times than I can count.” You twist your fingers, feeling the tension between wanting him and feeling hesitant. “But dating someone in the industry… I don’t know if I’m cut out for that.”

His shoulders drop a little, and he sighs. “Yeah… I figured.” He lets out a rough laugh, though it’s clear he’s disappointed. “Not the first time this has happened, or the last, probably. I just… I guess I was hopin’ this would be different.”

“It’s not about you, or… or the work. I don’t care that you’re in porn.” you say gently. “It’s just the idea of dating someone who—well, you know.”

He lets out a sigh, a heavy, defeated sound, and his eyes meet yours. “I know, nena, trust me. It’s a lot. I’m not holding it against you.” His hand runs over his face, frustration tightening his jaw. “It’s just…disappointing as fuck, but I get it.”

Before he can sink too deeply into the regret, of thinking he’s wasted a night taking you out, you reach out, catching his wrists and gently pulling his hands down. You’re close enough now to feel his breath brush across your cheek, and you hold his gaze, fierce and a little daring.

You’d be fucking stupid to walk away from all this without knowing what it feels like to kiss him, the man who’s wound you up so tight and left you as breathless as he has conflicted.

Slowly, you place his hands on your waist, leaning in until your lips barely touch his, your breath mingling together. You can practically feel his heart beating against his chest.

“Kiss me, Javi,” you murmur.

There’s no hesitation. His mouth meets yours, warm and certain, sending a spark through every nerve. His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, and you lose yourself in him.

Javier’s mouth moves against yours like he’s savoring every second, his lips plush and gentle, taking his time. 

It’s all so new, so beautifully unhurried.

You meet his pace, moving your lips softly, feeling the slight press and release. When he parts from you slightly, you’re already missing the taste of his mouth, chasing after him.

Then he tilts his head and leans in again, deepening the kiss, his lips fitting against yours with more purpose. He presses closer, his body warm and solid, and you feel his tongue swipe slowly across your lower lip.

A shiver runs through you as you part your lips for him, and the moment his tongue dips into your mouth, a soft moan escapes you, helpless against the sensation.

The sound seems to set something off inside him. Suddenly, the kiss grows hot and urgent, his hands gripping your hips as if he’s afraid to let go, kneading the flesh there while his mouth moves against yours with a new hunger.

Your own hands find their way to his jaw, your fingers sliding up to frame his face, desperate to bring him closer, needing the taste of him to linger.

The feel of his mustache brushes against your sensitive skin adds an edge that only heightens every sensation he’s bestowing on you.

Your tongue meets his, every glide and stroke of it fueling an ache that spreads through you, heat pooling as your teeth clash slightly, both of you pouring months of pent-up desire and frustration into this kiss.

His hold on your waist tightens as your hands slide up to tangle in his hair, tugging at it, and he lets out a low, guttural grunt that gets your bones vibrating.

In one swift movement, Javier maneuvers you, switching positions so that your back is pressed against the hood of his truck.

The cool metal beneath you contrasts with the heat of his body, and one of his hands slides from your waist, strong and possessive, until it grips the plushness of your thigh, hitching it over his hip and pulling your core against his.

The friction, the way his body aligns so perfectly with yours, ignites every nerve in your body.

You gasp against his mouth when his hard length presses against your clothed cunt, right where you need him most. The pressure sends a surge of arousal pooling low in your belly, and you arch into him, craving his intensity.

Your own hands roam, sliding to his jaw, feeling the scratch of his stubble against your palm, then his back, his shoulders, reveling in the feel of him. His mouth moves from your lips to your jaw, tracing a slow, wet line down to your neck, where he leaves a trail of heated kisses that have you gasping for air. 

The burn in your lungs is nothing compared to the ache building between your legs, an ache that only grows sharper every time he ruts his hips against yours.

“Gonna make me cum in my pants kissin’ me like that,” he mumbles against your neck..

He drags his lips back up, brushing his nose against yours, coaxing you into another kiss—this one softer, more controlled, yet no less potent.

You’re breathless when you part again, but it’s as though your body doesn’t care, desperate to keep feeling him against you.

When he reaches the curve of your breasts, he pauses, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses over the swells, grazing the sensitive skin with his teeth just enough to make you shiver.

“Please, Javi,” you murmur, though you’re not even sure what you’re asking for. All you know is that you’re floating in this thick haze of desire, utterly lost in him, the feel of his lips, the intoxicating drag of his teeth against your skin.

His mouth curls into a smirk against your collarbone, and he lifts his head slightly, his hand sliding over the fabric of your top, shifting it down until your breasts are bared to the cool night air.

You gasp, eyes widening, instinctively sitting up straighter, a half-laugh, half-nervous glance flicking around your surroundings, instinctively pulling him closer to shield you.

His dark eyes meet your gaze, a flicker of mischief swirling with the lust there.

“Here? What if someone sees us?” you breathe, heart thudding in your chest as the chill hardens your nipples to sensitive peaks.

“No one’s gonna bother us, nena, te lo prometo.” Before you can respond, his mouth is on your neck, placing a soft, slow kiss there, licking a stripe and tasting your perfume.

His hands find your breasts, fingers curling around the supple skin, his thumbs brushing your nipples in languid circles that have you melting against him, your breath catching with each teasing stroke.

It’s impossible to focus on anything when Javier’s so in tune with every inch of your body, instinctively reading each gasp and shiver.

His hands are so skilled, cupping, squeezing, until one trails along your waist, playing with your pretty skirt with a firm, claiming touch.

It's the perfect push and pull that floods your senses with him, until you’re completely lost.

His scent fills your lungs, his taste lingers on your tongue, feeling his perfect fucking body against you, hearing his subtle grunts, your vision glazed over with tears of pleasure from how he’s making you feel. 

He watches your reactions, eyes dark and filled with a simmering hunger as you lean flat against the hood of the truck, giving him access.

His mouth descends again, and he looks up at you when he’s reached your breasts. “Not gonna fuck you, since I’m bein’ a gentleman and all,” he murmurs, the words hot against your skin, “but I am gonna get you off just by playin’ with your tits.”

The whimper you let out is animalistic, your legs wrapping around his waist, pressing him closer.

Javier’s mouth is unrelenting, lips wrapping around your nipple with a hot, wet pressure that sends electric jolts straight to your cunt.

His tongue swirls over the sensitive peak, teasing it, as his teeth scrape the aching bud ever so lightly, making you gasp. Then he shifts, sinking his mouth lower to nip, to suck harder, his fingers coming up to twist your other nipple roughly, pinching and tugging at it, making you cry and writhe beneath him.

“Oh fuck that feels so good.” You can’t help but be so vocal and he loves it, the sound of your voice doing just as much to get him off in the same way that his mouth doesn’t let up on your tits.

His other hand is no less demanding, gripping your thigh and ass with rough squeezes, the heat of his touch spreading through the thin barrier of your skirt. When he smacks your flesh, the jolt arches your back off the hood of the truck, pulling a breathy moan from your lips that has him smirking against your chest.

You’re soaked, and he can feel it, his cock pressing insistently against the heat of your clothed pussy as your hips grind down onto him, building a rhythm that he matches with his mouth.

His tongue circles, flicks, and finally he pulls at the hard peak with his teeth, sending another shockwave through your body that has you rolling your hips, more wildly against him.

He pulls back just enough, a string of saliva still connecting him to you as he murmurs, “Baby, just with the way you’re movin’ your hips, I can tell you ride cock like a fuckin’ champ.”

His praise lights you up, fueling your need. Your fingers tangle in his hair as you pull him back to your chest. 

He groans, his mouth latching onto your other breast with fervor, tongue flicking over your nipple rapidly before he pulls it into his mouth, the wet sounds of his lips smacking against your flesh, working your sensitive and pert nipples is filthy and obscene in the best way possible.

“So good, Javi… I’m so close,” you manage, the words spilling out unbidden.

He lets out a low groan as he adjusts the angle of your hips, pressing you firmly against his erection. The new angle grinds perfectly against your clit, drawing you deeper into the pleasure until it’s all-consuming, each nerve tuned only to him.

“Oh, god… Javi,” you gasp, feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tighten, your orgasm creeping closer with every pull, every flick, every grind.

Your body is on fire, trembling as you near the edge, your breaths coming in gasps as you hump him, completely lost to the intensity building.

Javier’s mouth alternates between your breasts, each suck and bite tugging moans out of you until you feel like you might lose it.

When his lips finally find yours again, his fingers replace his mouth on your chest, rough and insistent as they pinch and twist your sensitive nipples.

His tongue sweeps into your mouth, deepening the kiss while your body trembles, your jaw slack as you melt into him, moaning his name into his mouth as your orgasm breaks over you in a helpless wave of bliss.

Your body locks up, head canting back and hitting the material beneath you with a gentle thump as you wail his name out into the night. 

“That's right, baby, just like that,” he murmurs, his praise and gentle kisses softening the overstimulation into something even more intoxicating.

His mouth trails over your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, every kiss pressing into your flushed skin while spots of pleasure blur your vision.

As you go limp against the cool hood, Javier’s touch softens on your chest, his fingers now gently kneading the sensitive flesh while he eases you back down, his lips trailing tender kisses over each swell before pulling your top back into place.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his deep inhale followed by warm, nipping kisses, his mustache scratching your skin just enough to bring out a fresh shiver from you.

“Javi,” you whimper, barely catching your breath, utterly wrecked and starstruck, amazed that he brought you so much pleasure by just teasing your breasts and rutting against you.

“Yeah?” His voice is a husky rasp, a hint of satisfaction at his lips.

You giggle, breathless, “I… don’t even know…” You laugh again, and he joins in, that low laugh rumbling in his chest as he cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“You enjoy that?” He tilts his head to the side, smugly grinning down at you.

“What do you think?” you tease back, still panting, eyes half-lidded.

You can’t help but admire how sexy he looks with his swollen lips and mussed hair. 

“Wait you didn't finish—” You murmur, beginning to reach down to toy with his belt, but he catches your hand gently.

“Don’t worry about me, nena.” His gravelly voice reassures you. “Seein’ you like this is enough for me.” 

You frown, feeling like you should do something for him, but before you can argue, he’s leaning down to kiss you again, over and over, until you’re both sinking into another slow, heated makeout session under the open sky, everything else fading away.

You’re standing in front of your door, the glow of your porch light casting soft shadows over the two of you. “Thanks for tonight; I had a great time,” you say, though your legs still feel shaky from what happened earlier. 

Javier’s eyes linger on you, “Thank you for letting me take you out,” he says, his tone soft. “Even if… things aren’t ending the way I’d hoped.”

A frown flickers on your face, but you keep your tone light, forcing a gentle laugh.“We can still be friends, you know? That’s one hell of an improvement from where we started.”

But your attempt to ease the tension doesn’t reach him; his expression remains fixed, serious.

“I don’t think I can just be friends with you.”

Then he goes and says something stupid like that. 

“So, what now?” you ask, voice sharper than you meant, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “We just… go our separate ways? Pretend none of this ever happened?”

He looks down, his jaw tense, and the silence that follows is thick, each second feeling like an eternity. His eyes meet yours and he sighs.

“I guess so.”

You release a bitter huff, shaking your head as you turn away, rummaging in your purse for your keys.

Fine. Fine. If that’s the way he wants it, you’ll let it be.

He calls your name, his voice slipping through your defenses like a last-ditch plea, making your shoulders tense. You ignore him, wrestling down the tide of frustration and vulnerability clawing its way back up.

You’d told yourself you didn’t want to get involved with him from the start, and now it feels like you should have stuck to your guns. Would have been easier to just tell him to kiss your ass that day he came into the bar, seducing you in your apartment, then asking you out on a date that ultimately meant nothing.

You find your keys and jam them into the lock, refusing to look back.

The second time he says your name, it’s firmer, and you whirl around to face him.

“Javier, listen—before tonight, I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d ever be into you. But I gave you a shot, and turns out, you’re not that bad. You’re actually pretty fucking sweet,” you confess, half-laughing, but it’s tinged with the bitterness that you feel. “And maybe if things were different, I could see us together. But things aren’t different. They’re the same as they always have been, and I won’t make you choose between me and your job.”

“I could quit—”

You let out a laugh, loud and unfiltered. “And do what? You’re damn good at what you do, Javi. I’ve seen it firsthand, and yeah, most of the time it’s some pretty raunchy shit, but there’s something almost… artistic in it, and I’d feel selfish as hell if I was the reason you gave that up.”

He places his hands on his hips, shifting his weight, exasperation written in every taut line of his body. “Do I need to remind you that I’m a grown-ass man who can make his own decisions? I’m starting to hate this job, and I want you.  I don’t care if I have to work a hundred side gigs. If that’s what it takes for you to be mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

The weight of his confession makes your grip on the doorknob tighten, his words sinking deeper than you want them to.

“Javi, please, think this through—”

“You sound like my agent,” he interrupts with a dry laugh, flexing his jaw. “I’ve thought about it. It’s all I can think about. I can’t even keep my cock hard enough to fuck the girls on set anymore, and like I told you before—I’m not taking pills for that shit.”

He steps closer, and you feel a pang in your chest as his hand brushes yours, his gaze desperate, pleading with you to see him the way he sees you.

But it’s messy and it’s hard, and even if it’s everything you didn’t know you wanted, you’re terrified it might be everything you don’t know how to hold onto.

His hands slide up, fingers splaying gently over your cheeks, holding you as if he’s anchoring himself. “Please stop fighting me on this,” he murmurs insistently. “I know what I want, and it’s you.”

The intensity in his eyes roots you in place, brown and warm and so damn certain it’s almost overwhelming. You’re taken aback by the softness in his touch, by how steady his hands feel against your face.

He’s usually much braver in action than in words, and yet here he is, unwavering.

“And you’re sure?” you whisper, not sure you can even trust yourself to hold up your guard.

“Si, nena.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt, just a rock-solid conviction that somehow soothes your racing heart. 

“You’re not gonna regret this down the line? Not even a little?”

“Absolutely not.” His answer is quick and firm, like he’s spent every minute leading up to this one, getting ready to say it.

Oh, fuck. With him looking at you like that, you know you don’t really have any other choice but to give Javier Peña a shot at being your boyfriend.

“Okay… okay, Javi, fine. We’ll see where this goes, but if you start having even one doubt—”

He doesn’t let you finish, cutting you off with his mouth on yours, pulling you close in a kiss that’s somehow even more intense than you were expecting.

It’s deep and consuming, worlds away from anything you’ve ever felt, like he’s pouring everything he has into it, and you can’t help but lose yourself in him like you have been since the moment things shifted in your dynamic.

When you finally come up for air, foreheads resting against each other, you’re both a little breathless, eyes shining with adoration.

“So...we’re doing this?” he asks, a crooked smile on his face that makes him look boyish and so damn pretty.

“I guess we are.”

“Does that mean I can come inside?” And with the way his lips quirk up into a cocky smile, you know exactly what this motherfucker means.

“Nope, we’re taking things slow… and I’m not fucking you until you get tested.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Fair enough. I can work with that.”

You kiss again, his mouth soft and so damn inviting that it takes all your willpower to pull yourself back before you’re tempted to give in right here, in the doorway. “Alright, Javi,” you murmur, feeling his breath linger against your lips as he bites playfully at your lower lip before letting you go. “Goodnight.”

He’s grinning, and it’s that smile that has a way of melting everything inside you. “Goodnight, nena. I’ll call you, set up our second date. Soon.”

The giddiness hits you hard—like back when Frankie was all about pursuing you, only it’s different this time and you don’t know why.

‘“I’ll be waiting.”

He quirks a brow. “I won’t make you wait too long.”

One last, lingering kiss and he’s gone, leaving you at the door, flushed, breathless, and completely jumbled in the best way possible.

“It feels weird being on this side of the bar,” you say, settling onto a barstool across from Connie. Javier slides into the stool next to you, immediately pulling you closer, his hand warm and possessive on your thigh.

“If you’re here to flaunt your relationship, you should start charging for it—I know I’d pay to see it,” Connie teases with a wink, already preparing your usual drink and turning to Javier. “And what about you?”

“Whiskey. Neat,” he answers, then leans into you, his voice a murmur by your ear, his hand slipping higher up your thigh, sneaking under the hem of your dress. “She does have a point, though.”

You smirk, pretending to ignore the way his fingers are trailing dangerously close to your panties. “Not sure I’d be any good on camera. Not like you, anyway.”

He chuckles and you can feel the heat between you two, that ever-present hum of lust you’ve been riding since the night he first kissed you.

It’s been blissful a month of dating Javier, and being with him is like no relationship you’ve had before.

You’ve found so much joy in the simplest moments with him—like when he fixes the little issues around your apartment that your landlord could care less about, or, the lively debates you have in the grocery store aisles, passionately debating which brand of coffee is better. 

Sure, you still haven’t officially slept with him, but that hasn’t stopped either of you from exploring each other. He’s kept his promise to make you feel amazing, finding delicious ways to learn your body without actually crossing that line.

It has only made everything feel deeper, sweeter. The way you make out like teenagers, unraveling each other in all the ways that matter, has been more than enough.

It wasn’t until a few days ago that you finally returned the favor, slipping into the shower with him and blowing his mind in every sense of the word, until he was helplessly spilling down your throat. Your jaw’s still a little sore from how eagerly you’d gone down on him, the memory of his breathless groans seared in your mind. 

Tonight, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, officially. He’d planned this whole evening at a rooftop restaurant, it was a little too fancy, but he looked at you like he couldn’t believe his luck.

The restaurant itself was overpriced and borderline ridiculous, but you two had made a game of it, teasing and laughing over the small portions and the pretentious plating. 

He even surprised you with a beautiful pair of earrings that you immediately put on, and he looked so damn proud when you showed them off.

Now you’re here at Lucky’s, both of you a bit overdressed, not ready to call it a night yet.

You can feel Javier’s gaze on you, intense and unwavering. “Baby, you’d be a fucking sight,” he says, teeth grazing your earlobe before he bites down gently, his warm breath tickling your skin and sending a shiver through you. You can’t help but giggle, feeling breathless and flushed as he plants a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Why are you two all dressed up?” Connie asks, setting your drinks down with a raised brow.

“Went out for dinner at the most overpriced spot I’ve ever set foot in. Easily spent my entire Friday night’s tips, and I’m still hungry.”

“Not only does that sound like a waste of time, but it’s definitely not your style.”

Javier leans back, one arm draped over your barstool. “To clarify: she didn’t spend a damn dime,” he interjects, “I had to take her somewhere special to ask her to be my girl,” he says, voice dripping with smooth confidence as he raises his glass for a sip.

Connie’s eyes light up, and your cheeks flush. “Consistent dick is the ultimate antidepressant. Trust me, I’d know,” she says with a wink.

You laugh at her bluntness, and fall into an easy rhythm of conversation, her giving updates on things with Steve, then gushing over the earrings Javier had gifted you earlier.

Just as you’re leaning in to admire them together, you notice a figure approaching. A woman, older and stunningly beautiful, glides up to the bar—her gaze fixed squarely on Javier.

“Javier, is that you?” Her voice is low, sultry, every word dripping with familiarity as she slides up beside him, her gaze unmistakably hungry. “Dios mío, mira qué guapo te has puesto, mi amor.”

Your head snaps up, conversation with Connie dissolving as Javier stands, greeting her with a hug that makes you do a double take.

You share a look with Connie, her expression mirroring the curious frown you feel. She raises her brows, silently mouthing, Who is that?

I don’t know, you mouth back, jealousy twisting in your stomach as you glance back at them.

They part, but her hands linger a moment too long on his chest, her manicured fingers trailing down. Javier very politely but firmly moves them away, a small frown creeping onto her face.

“Judy, long time no see.” His tone is courteous but distant. “This is my girlfriend,” he says, his voice warm as he makes the introduction, stepping back to your side, positioning you squarely in her line of sight.

You’re about to revel in the term girlfriend rolling so easily off his tongue, but her eyes lock onto you with a chill that runs down your spine. Standing your ground, you straighten, meeting her gaze head-on.

She’s stunning, her hair tastefully graying in elegant streaks against her rich brunette, her makeup precise and expensive. The smile lines around her mouth only enhance her aging beauty and if it weren’t for the absolute diabolical vibes you’re getting from her, you would have complimented how good she looks.

The tailored outfit, chunky gold bracelets, diamond-studded earrings and matching necklace leave no question—she has money.

What she’s doing at a dive bar like Lucky’s is beyond you, but maybe LA has its fill of pretentious types everywhere.

“Encantada,” she purrs, a fake smile flashing across her face before her focus shifts back to Javier. “¿Tienes novia? No lo puedo creer, Javiercito. Nunca me lo imaginé de ti.¿Sigues actuando?”

Her words drip with disbelief, her eyes giving you a nasty once over, and you catch enough Spanish to know she’s making a point to speak only to him. It’s like you’re just a side note, something to size up and dismiss.

Javier shifts, catching the tension in your posture, but she’s unrelenting. He responds curtly, “No, not with others. More solo work now.”

She scoffs, a haughty tsk of disapproval as she tilts her head.“No me digas que tu noviecita no te deja.” A mocking pout twists her lips. “Mija, if you’re going to date a pornstar, you’re going to have to deal with the baggage that comes with it. You don’t just get to benefit from him, from what I taught him.”

A flush of fury burns through you, and you’re on the verge of standing up, ready to beat her ass for her audacity. But Javier senses it and steps in, fingers pressing gently but firmly against your thigh, silently calming you down before you do something that’ll make him have to bail you out.

“It was my choice. Gig isn’t fun anymore,” he says firmly, a hint of irritation finally creeping into his tone. “We’re actually in the middle of a date, so if you wouldn’t mind leaving us to it…”

She glances between the two of you, clearly displeased at being dismissed but not quite willing to push her luck. Her smile turns syrupy, and you roll your eyes, signaling Connie for another drink. She’s failing miserably at pretending like she’s not listening in. 

“Of course,” she says in a sugary tone, eyes lingering on him.“Provecho. Si cambias tu mente, sabes donde encontrarme, Javi. We used to have so much fun together.” Her fingers trace down his arm a little too slowly, and she practically purrs, “Enjoy your date, sweetheart,” as she struts off, hips swinging with exaggerated flair.

But his eyes don’t follow, they turn to you.

Once she’s out of earshot, you raise a brow, waiting for some explanation. “So… who was that?” you ask as he sits back beside you, tossing back the last of his drink.

“An old colleague,” he says flatly.

You feel another surge of jealousy, and the second your drink arrives, you’re downing it in one go.

“Woah, nena, take it easy—”

“Is that normal for you?” you ask, unable to hide the irritation bubbling up. “Having fans… ‘colleagues’ just approach you out of nowhere, all of them ready to fuck?” You know your tone’s more annoyed than you intended, but the image of her hands all over him pisses you off.

He studies you, cautious, as if measuring his words. “Honestly? Yes. I’m very popular, baby,” he says with a crooked smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “I thought you knew that.”

You let out a sigh, guilt creeping in for directing your irritation at him. “I know… I do. There’s just a difference between knowing and actually experiencing it.” You try to keep the bite out of your tone. “It’s not like she was being subtle either. Looked like she was two seconds away from spreading herself out for you right here.”

There’s definitely an adjustment that still needs to be made in terms of dating a pornstar.

“I’ll be better about shutting them down,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Even if you do look hot when you’re jealous.”

You try to suppress a smile, rolling your eyes as he leans closer, brushing his lips along your bare shoulder, then trailing up to your neck, melting your frustration just a bit. He’s too good at this.

“I wasn’t jealous,” you lie, glancing sideways at him. “Also didn’t peg you as an ‘older women’ guy. I’ve only ever seen you with the younger girls.” Saying it even makes you cringe.

As if on cue, Connie, ever the observant bartender, swoops in with replacement drinks, eyebrows raised knowingly. “Everything good over here? I don’t need to call an ambulance or anything, right?”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head. “No, Con, we’re fine.”

“Even though I wouldn’t mind seeing her kick some ass.” Javier teases.

She laughs, nodding at you. “Oh, you want to see her fight? Be here during a major sports event. Last year during March Madness, she gave this guy a black eye ‘cause he called her a cunt when she accidentally changed the channel, then ended up going toe-to-toe with his girlfriend.”

Javier raises his brows at you. “Seriously?”

You shrug, unfazed. “They asked for it.”

As Connie gets pulled away by some patrons at the other end of the bar, Javier turns to you, his expression shadowed and a bit more serious than before.

“When I first started, my confidence was shot. I’m talkin’ nonexistent,” he admits, his voice low.

You arch a brow, struggling to picture a less-than-assured Javier Peña. “Really? I’m having a hard time imagining that.”

“Yeah, well…” He lets out a rough sigh, “When your fiancée gets knocked up and leaves you at the altar for the guy she’s been cheating on you with, that tends to happen.”

You choke on your drink, and your hand flies to your chest, eyes wide. He glances at you, his concern slipping past his own discomfort for a second. You wave him off as you try to get it together, the words still rattling around in your mind.

“Sorry—what?” you finally manage, hardly believing what you just heard.

“Didn’t mean to dump it on you like that,” he says, leaning on the bar, his fingers tapping a slow, rhythmic beat on the counter, his gaze cast downward.

“Hold up. You were engaged?” You can’t help but lean in, your curiosity clawing to the surface. “And she left you?” You’re struggling to piece it all together, mind spinning through images of the man sitting next to you, younger and heartbroken.

“Yeah,” his jaw twitches. “Her name was Lorraine. We were high school sweethearts—whole ‘marry your first love’ thing.” There’s a hard edge in his voice now, his fingers gripping the glass a bit tighter. “Thought I’d have the life, fill a house with kids, do the whole all-American family bullshit.” His words are bitter, the resentment so clear you almost feel it yourself. 

He takes a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. “Wedding day comes around and she’s gone. Left some half-assed note saying she ‘couldn’t do it,’ and her sister finally broke down and told me what was really going on. She’d been screwing her boss. He got her pregnant.”

There’s a crash behind the bar as a glass shatters. You glance over to see Connie, her face red, scrambling to clean it up with an embarrassed apology. You can’t blame her for listening in—you’re feeling a similar gut punch. 

You knew there was something that happened that made him jump the gun and move to California, now, you know what it is. An ain’t shit ex.

“Javi, that’s fucked. I can’t even begin to imagine how much that must have hurt.”

He gives a small nod, lifting his glass and taking a slow sip.

From where you’re sitting, you can see his profile in the low light—his strong nose, the gentle curve of his cheekbones, those lips that naturally form a pout when he’s deep in thought.

"I tried to keep it together, but that town became… suffocating. The looks I got…” Javier’s voice trails off as he shakes his head. “So I packed my shit, said goodbye to my pops, and just started driving. Stopped in all sorts of places, did some sightseeing, trying to figure things out.” A hint of a smile plays on his lips. “Ended up here, and Steve was the first friend I made. That asshole’s the one who got me into porn.”

Your brows shoot up, surprised yet again by his story’s unexpected turns. “Steve? Oh god, don’t tell me he used to do it too.”

Javier smirks, amusement dancing in his eyes. “He did a few flicks. Nothing groundbreaking like me.” He says all cheekily, and you can’t help but nudge him. “So, yeah, I started out for a few bucks. Wasn’t so hot in the beginning—and then I met Judy.”

At the mention of her, your face twists involuntarily, and he notices but ignores your reaction. 

“She taught me most of what I know, and we shot a lot of projects together. People liked what they saw, and after a while, I started getting paired with older co-stars. That kinda became my thing. MILFs and cougars,” he says, his gaze tracing your features to gauge your response. 

You’re still reeling from everything he’s told you so far, marveling at the many lives this man has lived before finding his way to you. “That explains a lot, actually,” you say, your thoughts slipping out with your words.

It now makes sense why he’s so damn good at foreplay. Skills like his? They’re honed under women who know exactly what the fuck they’re talking about, who aren’t shy to take what they need.

Suddenly, your own insecurities begin to simmer and you wonder if you’ll ever amount to the women before you.

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Yeah? Like what?”

You glance up, unflinching. “Like the fact that you can fuck.” Your bluntness pulls a laugh out of both of you—his full of mischief, yours tinged with nerves.

“Not a problem, is it?” he asks, that signature smirk softened, yet curious.

It’s a loaded question, so you take a sip, buying a little time before answering. “What, that you can fuck?”

He laughs again, more genuine this time, a sound that melts some of the tension inside you.

“No, nena,” he replies, still grinning. “Everything else.”

The laughter fades, and for a moment, you sit in the quiet, watching tiny droplets slide down the condensation on your glass.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for honesty. “It’s not a problem, Javi. But… if I’m being real with you, I don’t feel up to par with what you’re used to.”

You can tell from the way his face falls into a scowl that he doesn’t like how you’ve phrased it. “What I have with you is different, cariño. Not something scripted for a camera.” 

“I know that, but still. You’re used to professionals—people who know exactly what to do, how to look, how to please. Me?” You let out a shaky laugh, grimacing at your self deprecation, and your gaze falls to the drink in your hand. “You’re lucky if I even get on top.”

As the last word falls, your cheeks flush with embarrassment, feeling raw and exposed at a fucking dive bar.

Before you can turn further away, Javier leans in close, gently catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His expression is nothing but tender, his dark eyes soft.

“Hey, stop that,” he murmurs, his voice so gentle it’s almost a whisper. “You’re more than enough. Trust me.” His fingers stroke softly along your jaw, lingering. “I wasn’t looking for a waxed-up, camera-ready professional. I wanted something real and I found you.”

Your heart stirs at the depth in his voice. He lets out a small breath, his thumb brushing the curve of your cheek. “I know you’ve got your hang-ups, and I get it. I’ve been there. It’s… hard to feel like you’re enough when you’re constantly comparing yourself to people who don’t even matter. But I’m tellin’ you, baby, it shouldn’t be like that with us.”

He shifts a little closer, his gaze earnest. “I’ll help you feel more confident the way someone once did for me. But the difference? I’m givin’ you everything. Not just sex, not just some half-hearted attempt. I’m here—all in.”

You swallow the mix of emotions he’s just poured into you—gratitude, desire, and a newfound trust that fills the spaces where your insecurities had settled.

Your eyes search his, words catching in your throat as you try to express everything you’re feeling. But instead of speaking, you reach for the hand at your face, your stare steady as you quietly murmur, “Let’s go upstairs.”

You stumble through the door, bodies pressed close as you and Javier crash into the walls of your apartment, lips never parting for more than a heartbeat.

Your hands roam each other’s bodies, his fingers tracing down your spine, your own tugging eagerly at his shirt, popping buttons until it falls open, greedily feeling up on his warm and toned chest.

His belt follows, clinking to the floor, and as you kick off your heels, you barely register the sound of them hitting the ground—lost in the heavy rhythm of your pulse, the taste of his mouth, the roughness of his scruff.

He sinks down onto the edge of your bed, and you move to straddle him, but he catches you just in time, leaning back a bit with a smirk. “Take your dress off…” he orders, his voice gravelly as his eyes travel hungrily over you, biting his lower lip.

Your heart races as you take a few steps back, antsy fingers reaching for the zipper at your side.

“Slowly,” he adds, and you slow down, teasing him as you draw the zipper down until your dress is loose against your skin.

Holding it to your chest with one hand, you turn around, letting it slip and fall in a gentle whisper to the floor, leaving you standing in just your underwear.

His satisfied hum makes you shiver, and you feel his gaze burn down your back, over the curve of your hips, your thighs.

Looking over your shoulder with a flirty smile, you catch his eye, and he grins in return.

“Turn around, baby, let me see you.”

You turn to face him, nerves quieted by the way he’s looking at you—as if he’s seeing you naked for the first time.

He lets out a soft, almost reverent groan, then extends his hands, urging you closer. You step forward, your hands finding his shoulders as you finally straddle his lap, his warmth searing through you. 

His mouth captures yours, rough hands sliding up to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples until you’re trembling, gasping against his lips as you remember what happened the last time he toyed with you like this.

“Javi…” you whisper his name, your voice barely a breath as you pull away just enough to speak, eyes meeting his. “I want you. All of you.” You lean in to kiss him again, fervent, moving to trail your lips along his jaw, nipping lightly.

“I want you to fuck me.” You say it firmly, leaving no room for doubt, wanting him to understand exactly what you need.

He groans deeply, his hands dropping to grip your ass and pull you closer. “Are you sure?” his nose brushes along your neck, his breath hot against your skin as you continue kissing along his jaw.

“Yes, Javi,” you breathe out, voice thick with need, “I need you so bad.”

With practiced ease, Javier shifts you onto your back, stretching out beneath him as he hovers close, his touch claiming every inch of exposed skin. His hands trail over you, hot and lingering, and you feel like you’re melting beneath him, completely under his control.

When he finally pulls away to slip out of his remaining clothes, you see his gaze wander, fixated on something by your bedside table.

Following his line of sight, you realize he’s locked onto the purple vibrator you’d left out after using it the other night when he wasn’t around, leaving you to fend for yourself.

A sly smile tugs at his lips as he reaches over, picking it up and turning it over in his hand. “This little thing gets you off?” he teases, holding it up as though he’s sizing up the competition.

You roll your eyes, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer, but he resists, firmly planted just out of reach.“When I’m in a pinch, yes. Haven’t exactly needed it much lately, thanks to you.”

A thoughtful hum escapes him as he glances between you and the toy, as if weighing his options. Then, moving back over you, he kneels between your thighs, one hand gripping your hip possessively, teasing the band of your panties, while the other holds the vibrator with a wicked gleam. “I think we could put this to good use tonight.”

The spark of excitement floods through you, making your thighs tense instinctively, hips lifting slightly in response. Javier notices, his smirk widening as he lets the band of your panties snap back against your skin, making you gasp.

His eyes darken as he watches you writhe, clearly savoring your every little movement.

“Oh, yeah?” you manage to ask, your voice breathy with anticipation. “How?”

Instead of answering, he switches the toy on, and the low, steady hum fills the room. His eyes never leave you as he drags it lightly over your pelvis, nowhere close to where you ache for him, but enough to make your breath hitch, a soft moan slipping out as you arch into his touch.

His grip on your hip tightens. “Stay still,” he commands, using that sexy bedroom voice of his that’s even more gravelly and deeper than his usual cadence.

Obediently, you settle back, watching him with bated breath. He keeps the toy hovering just above your soaked panties, tantalizingly close to where you need him most.

When he finally presses it down on your clothed pussy, just enough to tease, you let out a low, pleading whimper, your hands gripping the sheets as he works you over in slow, cruel strokes.

His stare holds yours, a silent promise that tonight, he’s going to take his time, making sure you feel every single second of it.

Your breaths come out heavy and uneven, your whole body tensing as you fight the urge to grind up against it, trying to maintain some composure while he has you pinned down beneath that slow, teasing rhythm.

Javier moves the toy in tight, deliberate circles, dragging it excruciatingly slow over your needy clit, the first setting absolute torture.

He’s in no hurry, watching with intense focus as you tremble, his eyes tracing every twitch, every bead of arousal that weeps from your cunt, dampening the thin fabric even more.

He keeps that maddening pace, and as the vibrations ripple through you, you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, an orgasm coiling dangerously tight, ready to snap.

Your nails dig into the duvet, a strangled moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, fuck, Javi—I’m… I’m gonna come—”

But just as you reach that edge, he pulls the toy away and turns it off, leaving you gasping, the sensation dissipating as quickly as it built. Your eyes snap open and you sit up slightly, desperate and hazy, locking onto him. “What the fuck?”

“Shh,” he hushes you, though there’s no denying the look of satisfaction on his face. Javi brushes his lips over the corner of your mouth, calming you with a soft, feather-light kiss. “Just trust me, okay? You know I always take care of you.”

You do know. This man has pulled so many orgasms right out of your body without even fucking you with his dick. That reassurance melts away your frustration from being pulled back from the precipice. You nod, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that’s so intoxicating, tongues sliding against each other, his hand skipping down your side to the band of your panties.

Slowly, he drags the fabric down, his fingers gliding over your skin, leaving a blazing trail as they go.

When he finally discards your underwear, you’re left bare beneath him, exposed and aching, while he still wears that unbuttoned dress shirt, his slacks riding low on his hips, half undone.

It’s annoying how good he looks—just dressed enough to drive you wild with impatience.

He taps your knee, urging you to spread wider, his gaze fixed on you with unrestrained desire. And the way he looks at you—like you’re all he’s ever wanted—banishes every flicker of self-doubt, every whisper of insecurity.

You let yourself open up to him completely, your sticky, swollen pussy on full display, pulsing in anticipation, needing him more than words can say.

His eyes rake over you with reverence, dark and smoldering as he drinks in every inch of yourself that you’re offering to him, his chest rising and falling a little heavier. 

“Always so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, pressing a slow kiss to your knee before settling back between your legs.

The vibrator flicks on again, and he traces it up your inner thighs, letting you tremble beneath his touch. You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the urge to shout at him to stop playing around, to just give it to you.

Javier trails the toy along your slick lips, his gaze dark and hungry as your arousal drips out of your cunt, every inch of your body clenching with need. When he finally presses the vibrator to your clit, a shudder ripples through you, your back arching off the bed.

He groans low and deep, clearly savoring your reaction.

“Javi,” you moan, hips already grinding against the pressure as he keeps the vibrator in place, turning up the intensity to make you gasp, your body moving to meet it, demanding more.

“Feel good, baby?” he murmurs, his voice like smoke.

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out, nodding feverishly, your eyes squeezed shut as you let the pleasure wash over you, helplessly rocking against him.

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls it away.

Over and over, he teases, edging you with that relentless, maddening rhythm, each denial more tortuous than the last.

He alternates between fucking the toy inside you, pressing it against the fleshy cleft of your clit, and peppering soft, almost loving kisses down your body: your neck, your jaw, the valley between your breasts. His tongue traces your nipple in slow circles, flicking it just enough to drive you wild, until you’re a trembling, teary mess beneath him, desperate for release.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” he coos, stroking your cheek as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting, plunging it inside you. The wet, obscene sounds of your pussy crying around it only fuel his hunger as he watches your face.

You feel his fingers cup your jaw, firm and unyielding, his eyes blazing into yours as you cling to his touch, mascara running down your cheeks, feeling so utterly wrecked.

“Please, Javi… please let me come,” you beg, your voice ragged. But he just tightens his hold, fingers digging into the skin of your cheeks, pressing the toy in deep as his thumb circles your clit, leaving you breathless. 

“Just when you think you can let go… it’s snatched from you,” he whispers, ignoring your pleas, dragging you to the brink only to pull the vibrator away once again, leaving you a shaking, furious mess.

A strangled sound escapes your throat, torn between anger and need, barely feeling like yourself.

Javier chuckles, bending down to nip at your chin, his teeth grazing your skin before his tongue traces a line up your jaw. “That’s how you’ve been making me feel for months now, nena,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy. It’s only fair that I make you feel even a fraction of it.”

“Y-You’re an asshole,” you try to retort, but your voice comes out barely above a whisper, your tone more a helpless whine than any real protest.

He grins, mocking your pout with one of his own, voice dripping with feigned sympathy. “Don’t say that, baby. You’re breakin’ my heart.” He brushes one last kiss against your lips, pulling back just as you lean into him, already aching to feel him close again, his warmth a cruel tease.

He undresses fully, and your mouth literally waters as your gaze traces the sculpted lines of his stomach, following the trail of hair that leads down to his thick, throbbing cock.

The head is swollen and red, already dripping with precome, and you can’t help the moan that slips from your lips, your hips shifting instinctively, every nerve ending primed and desperate for him. You’ve been dreaming about this moment for so long, craving it with every fiber of your being. 

You need to fuck this man.

As he climbs back over you, his hands reach to pull you closer, your legs wrapping around his waist as if they belong there, your hands clutching at the solid warmth of his shoulders.

You pull him down to you, your bare breasts pressed to the hard plane of his chest, as he balances himself with both hands planted beside your head, his eyes burning into yours. 

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft, and you nod, kissing the corner of his mouth before tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Mhm,” you breathe, staring up at him, completely wrecked and totally ready. “I’m just ready to take you, Javi. Need it so bad.”

He groans, the heat in his eyes darkening as he adjusts his hips, hovering right there, just out of reach. “Go ahead, baby, take it. Put it in.”

His words are like gasoline to a fire, and a shiver runs through you at the sheer, visceral need in his command.

Reaching down, your fingers wrap around his length, both of you gasping as you feel the heat and hardness of him pulsing in your hand. You squeeze gently, stroking him slowly, and he hisses, rolling his hips into your grip.

You swirl your thumb over the head, spreading the bead of precome across his skin, the silky-slick texture making you dizzy with anticipation.

Drunk on him, on everything he evokes in you, you guide the head of his cock to your soaked, swollen entrance, rubbing it slowly against your aching slit.

The sensation has you trembling, but when he finally pushes forward, easing himself into you, you let out a loud, breathless whine. The stretch of him is so perfect, so utterly fulfilling that your back arches, your toes curling as your head falls back into the sheets. 

“Oh, fuck—Javier, you feel so good,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him, holding him deep as your body adjusts to every thick, pulsing inch. It’s even better than you ever imagined.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and uneven as he thrusts forward, filling you to the hilt. “Nena,” he grunts, voice ragged, “I’m not gonna last—shit.” He sounds as wrecked as you feel, his hips pressing flush against yours as he sinks in deep, your inner walls gripping him as if you’ll never let him go.

“Please,” you whimper, grinding your hips up to meet him, urging him on. He sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of your neck, sucking until he’s left a mark, his mouth hot and relentless as he peppers kisses and bites along your throat.

He’s holding himself back, giving you a second to catch up, but every inch of you craves him.

“Give me, fuck, gimme a second,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your collarbone. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and controlled, his mouth capturing yours in a heated kiss, your bodies locked together as he builds a rhythm, deeper and more intense with every movement.

Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in as he grinds just right, the coarse hairs of his cock rubbing against your swollen clit, making you babble helplessly against his parted lips, your own pleasure climbing higher with each thrust. “Right there, Javi, right there—I’m so close, please…”

He speeds up, his strokes hard and unrestrained, driving you to the edge. But even as he tries to keep his control, you feel him faltering, his body tensing as the pleasure becomes too much.

“Fuck—puta madre, nenita—you feel so good—” His voice breaks, and he gives one, two, three hard thrusts, burying himself deep as his release finally takes over, his warm, pulsing release spilling into you as he groans loudly, hips grinding as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm.

Your chest heaves with every breath, your body still humming with tension. As much as you’re flattered by his performance, you’re left tingling, unfinished, after all the edging and teasing he put you through.

“Javi…” You murmur softly, your hands sliding from his tousled hair down his shoulders, the heat radiating off his skin. 

He responds with a low grunt, still draped over you, his weight grounding you.

“Javier,” you say again, a bit more insistently this time, and he lifts his head, eyes heavy and glazed, looking at you as if you’ve just broken him in the best way possible.

You’ve never seen him look this wrecked, his breath still uneven and his face flushed—all because of you. Fighting the urge to smirk, you can’t help but revel in the sight of him.

Men can be sensitive about finishing quickly, but he looks nothing but smug.

“Pussy’s too damn good, baby. Fuckin’ Christ,” he groans, a grin tugging at his lips, his words breathy and awed.

Now you let yourself smirk, feeling the flush of satisfaction. He nuzzles his nose against yours, murmuring, “Gotta make up for that.”

You raise a brow, intrigued. And then he’s moving, slowly pulling out of you, making you hum as the absence of him sends a small flutter through your sensitive cunt, his warm, milky cum trickling out and coating your thighs. 

With determination in his gaze, he begins his descent, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your sternum, his breath a delicious tease against your skin until he’s nestled between your legs.

His broad shoulders press your thighs open, and then he throws them over his shoulders, eyes locked on yours, his look nothing short of ravenous.

Javi nips and kisses along your inner thighs, each bite and lick sending sparks straight to your core. When he finally reaches your swollen, aching pussy, his thumbs slide over your folds, parting them to reveal the slick mess he left behind.

Then, you feel the first swipe of his tongue, warm and slow, tasting you both. His groan is deep and low, the sound vibrating against you as he begins to devour you, licking and slurping at your mixed arousal with a hunger that’s overwhelming. 

You can’t hold back—you’re too wound up, too sensitive, and you grab at his hair, your fingers twisting and tugging as your release crashes through you, every wave building on all the ones denied before. 

You’re left gasping, body arched and taut, thighs clamping around his head as you scream his name, mindlessly babbling through the pleasure.

“Javi! Fuck—fuck, yes, oh god—” 

He growls against you, mouth working as he drinks in every pulse, his tongue relentless as he wrings every last aftershock from your shaking body.

It’s beyond anything you’ve felt before, overwhelming and intense, leaving you utterly spent as you finally start to come down, your body melting beneath him, weak and utterly satisfied.

As he finishes devouring you between your thighs, you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s thrusting into you again, harder and deeper this time, with a fierce intensity that rips a loud, shameless cry from you.

Right, he’s got that pornstar stamina.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you up with him as he sits up, his brows knitted in concentration, his tongue peeking out as he watches you completely unravel around him.

“That’s right, baby,” he growls, “Gonna give me one more on my cock, show me how bad you wanted it.”

You used to roll your eyes at the exaggerated moans you’d hear on set, doubting anyone could actually be that good.

But he is that good. Beyond that good. He’s better.

Now here you are, body trembling, head thrown back, moaning his name so loudly it might echo through the whole building. Every hard thrust feels like it’s driving into the core of you, filling you so perfectly that the room spins. 

His grip tightens, hands splayed across your hips as he finds a rhythm that sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. The thick drag of his cock hits every spot, and he knows just how to read every gasp, every shudder, adjusting his pace and angle to push you higher and higher. 

He pulls your legs up, folding them against your chest, his hips angled to grind against that one perfect spot that has stars dancing across your vision. You’re lost to him, mimicking those moans you used to scoff at, now higher and even more desperate as he laughs, deep and husky.

“Got you singin’ like a fuckin’ bird, nenita,” he teases, his laugh tapering off into a low groan. “And to think you didn’t want this. Now look at you—all fucked out and creamin’ on my cock”

Your bed creaks with every hard thrust, the scent of sex thick in the air, but all you can focus on is him—his rough hands, the way he looks down at you, utterly in control.

He’s all you can feel, all you can breathe, and as he digs his nails into the plush skin of your thighs, you know you’re on the edge, your pussy clenching tightly around him. 

Your gaze meets his, and somehow you manage a blissful, shaky smile, a small act of defiance just before he pushes you over.

“There she is,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, baby—let me feel it.”

“Javi… oh my fuck, I’m coming!” The words are a gasp, strangled and desperate, as your body locks around him, your orgasm crashing through you in waves that leave you breathless, gushing around his cock as every muscle in your body clenches tight.

It feels like you’ve drifted to the heavens, like he’s drawn out every last ounce of strength from you. 

You’re dazed, floating, but he’s still there, whispering to you, “Good girl, that’s it. I’ve got you,” his voice a warm balm as he slows his movements, matching the rhythm of your aftershocks, soothing you with each gentle thrust as he holds you close.

Your body shudders, tiny jolts of overstimulation sparking through you as he stays with you, coaxing you back down from the edge, until you’re nothing but a soft, sated mess in his arms.

He gently eases your legs down, pulling out of you with a slow, tender touch before settling by your side. 

His arms wrap around you, drawing you in close as you both lie there, utterly spent, skin warm and sticky from sweat and the lingering traces of your wild fucking.

His lips press a soft kiss to your forehead, and you let out a contented sigh, burrowing into his chest. You crave the solid weight of his body, the grounding warmth of him as you slowly come back to reality.

“You’re not real,” you mumble into his chest, your voice muffled but laced with awe. His chuckle vibrates against your cheek, a low, comforting sound that makes you smile even wider.

“I’m very real, and very yours, nena,” Javi replies, his hand drifting lazily up and down your back in gentle strokes that make you melt even further. The warmth of his words seeps into you, and your heart flutters.

You lift your head, resting your chin on his chest, and take a moment to really admire him: the deep brown of his eyes, the dark sweep of his lashes, the fullness of his mustache, and that defined jaw you love tracing your fingers along.

Your hands wander, tracing faint shapes on his shoulders, running over the hard lines of his triceps, relishing the feel of him beneath your fingers.

“I need a shower. And to change these sheets,” you murmur, glancing around at the disheveled bed.

“Yeah, someone made quite the mess,” he teases, pinching your ass, which makes you yelp and swat his chest with a playful smack.

“Asshole,” you grumble, but he just laughs, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that’s softer, and you melt into him all over again.

“I’ll go start the shower for you, then change the sheets while you’re in there.”

“Catering to my every whim already? I just became your girlfriend,” you tease.

“Yeah, and I’m trying to keep it that way for the foreseeable future,” he says, brushing a quick, sweet kiss on the tip of your nose before slipping away from you.

You can’t help the little pout that forms as he sits up, rolling his shoulders back, his muscles jolting, which makes you weak in the knees.

You watch him as he moves throughout your room then into your bathroom, your eyes trailing over every muscle, every line of his body, unable to resist biting your lip.

He really is gorgeous—so damn hot—and he’s all yours.

🏷️ : @almostempty . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

@pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 . @maladptivedaydreaming .

[doumadono]

Silent Waves, Silent Wounds - Touya Todoroki x Reader

A/N: today's episode broke my heart and made me cry uncontrollably. With a nice prompt set for this week's challenge in a community I'm part of, I decided to combine the two. I just hope my Touya will survive. Gif was made by @gamergirl-niffler

MY HERO ACADEMIA

Touya's first breaths of freedom were laced with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the distant echoes of calamity.

Beneath the flickering streetlights of Musutafu, shadows twirled across the damp pavement, casting the world in veils of half-truths and murmured secrets.

It was upon a night cloaked in despair that Touya Todoroki, shrouded in the remnants of his shattered past, escaped the suffocating confines of what should have been a sanctuary. The hospital, ostensibly a bastion of healing and hope, had morphed into nothing but a prison, all under the malevolent gaze of All For One.

In a moment fueled by raw desperation and a primal urge for freedom, Touya, with hands trembling and heart pounding against the cage of his ribcage, ignited the very foundations that had ensnared him. Flames, hungry and unrestrained, licked upwards, clawing at the structure with a ferocity. Fire roared through the hallways, a fierce, unforgiving inferno that consumed everything in its path — medical charts, synthetic bed linens, the false promises of recovery.

As the inferno raged behind him, Touya stumbled into the cold embrace of the night.

The city loomed large and indifferent, its countless lights flickering like distant stars, unreachable and cold. Each step was a battle, his body a map of wounds both fresh and long endured, scars that told tales he could barely remember, tales of a mere boy who once dreamed of heroism but found himself ensnared in a nightmare of his father's making.

He moved through the shadows, a spectral figure haunted by the echoes of his past and the uncertain horrors of his future. Tonight, the world was both his enemy and his ally, hiding him from those who would seek to drag him back to that hellish place, yet offering no comfort from the relentless grip of his solitude and sorrow. His face, marred with scars that told stories of a tragic past and unresolved pain, was not one that people usually turned to for comfort.

As he navigated through the dimly lit streets, his eyes were cautious and wary of the stares that followed him like specters.

It was then he saw you - a girl sitting alone on the curb, your sobs cutting through the muffled sounds of the city like a siren’s call. You were young, perhaps no older than he, with tears streaking your cheeks and your shoulders trembling under the weight of your unseen burdens.

Despite his fears and the fresh pain of his own memories, something within him stirred - a remnant of the hero he once aspired to be. Hesitant, he approached you, his voice barely above a whisper after he cleared his throat, trying to sound normal, even though he knew it was no longer possible. “Hey, are you okay?”

You jerked your head up, your eyes wide with a mixture of fear and surprise as they landed on his disfigured features.

For a heartbeat, Touya thought you would scream, run away, or recoil in horror.

But then, something remarkable happened - your expression softened, and your initial fright melted into a sad, understanding smile. “Not really,” you confessed, wiping your tears away with the back of your shaking hand. “My dad… he drinks too much. And my mom, she doesn’t really care. She threw me out tonight. Said she’d had enough of me being useless.”

The words struck a chord in Touya. Abandonment, pain, a longing for something better - themes that resonated deeply within his own life. Sitting heavily beside you on the cold curb, he offered you a timid smile, one that seemed almost out of place on his scarred visage. "I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a mixture of warmth and a chilling detachment born from years of conditioning under his father’s harsh regime. “I… I know what it’s like to feel like you have no one.”

You studied him, your reddened eyes lingering on his scars with a curiosity born from your own pain rather than judgement. “What happened to you?” you asked gently, perhaps too gently for the horror that his story contained.

Touya looked away, his eyes tracing the patterns of light and shadow on the ground. “I don’t remember everything,” he confessed. “But I know I was trying to prove something to my dad. It didn’t end well, as you can see.”

You sat in silence, the world around you bustling with life, yet oblivious to the shared moment of grief between two strangers.

People passed by, their glances sharp and sometimes filled with a disdain that neither of you were unfamiliar with.

Sensing Touya’s discomfort, you made a decision. “Let’s go somewhere else,” you suggested, a spark of resolve lighting up your tear-stained face. “Somewhere away from prying eyes. I know a nice place, if you'd like to join me.”

Touya nodded casually, “I think I’d like that. I have nowhere to be anyway.”

Without another word, you stood, holding out you hand to help him up. Your touch was warm, a stark contrast to the coldness he had come to expect from the world.

Together, you walked through the deserted streets, your steps in sync, until the city sounds faded into the background, replaced by the soothing rhythm of waves crashing against the shore.

Beneath the expansive canopy of the night sky, the beach lay deserted, bathed in the ethereal, silvery glow of the moon. The ocean before them transformed into a shimmering tapestry, each wave weaving threads of light across the dark canvas of water. It was here, with the cool sand cradling your steps and the vast, relentless sea stretching into infinity, that you discovered a fleeting sanctuary — a momentary escape from the ravages of your tormented existences.

As you settled onto the sand, the ocean's eternal murmurs surrounding you, Touya found himself unexpectedly comforted by the raw, natural beauty of the scene. Yet, he was taken aback when you revealed that it was not just chance that brought you to this tranquil haven in the dead of night.

“I come here often, especially after fights at home,” you confessed softly, your eyes reflecting the moonlight like fragments of a broken mirror. “The sound of the waves… it calms the storm inside me. Maybe it can do the same for you.”

Touya hesitated before his voice broke the silence. "I'm like these waves," he murmured, his voice tinged with a haunting sadness. "Crashing again and again, with no control, no end. I don't even remember why I started… what I was trying to prove." His gaze was lost to the horizon, where the dark sea met the darker sky, his face a mask of sorrow sculpted by the silvery light.

"It's hard, isn't it?" you said softly, pulling your knees closer to your chest, feeling the chill of the night seeping through your clothes. "Feeling like you're caught in a storm with no shelter in sight. I sit here, night after night, wondering if the screaming will ever stop, if there will ever be a night without tears, without all this emptiness."

"Does it help? Coming here, hearing the waves?" Touya asked.

"It doesn't stop the pain," you admitted, "but sometimes, it makes it bearable. The sea doesn't judge, doesn't demand. It just is. And for a little while, I can just be too, without worrying about the next wave that might knock me down."

"I wish I could remember what peace feels like," he confessed, his words blending with the whisper of the wind.

You reached out, your hand brushing against his, a small gesture of comfort in the overwhelming vastness of your shared solitude.

"Maybe we can't go back to who we were," you suggested, your voice a tentative whisper against the symphony of the sea. "But perhaps we can find new reasons to look forward to the sunrise."

Touya's hand trembled slightly under yours, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he gripped your hand, his hold tentative but needing the connection. "I'd like that," he said, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his lips, as fragile and fleeting as a wave’s crest as a single tear rolled down his cheek. "To look forward to something, to hope for something better."

[erinfern0]

bound together.

spencer reid x gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, gender-neutral anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: you can't help but question yourself about his reaction to your confession in the possibly worst moment of your life. feelings bottle up until you ask the question, which only makes Spencer try to prove your mind wrong.

warnings: angsty/emotional beginning, smut, hickeys, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, lots of l-bombs.

a/n: i know the gif isn't from criminal minds, but i couldn't help myself. not only it matches the fic, but also JUST LOOK AT HIMMM. this is part two of 'cutting the cord', so check that one first <3

You felt your heartbeat in your entire body as you left the building with Spencer by your side. His palm rested on your back, guiding you out of the building, supposedly feeling the same way. Feeling like you're not walking anymore, just floating over the pavement. That lightness in your chest, the flashing lights of news reporters, just the faint buzzing of their voices. You coundn't tell if all of this was real or just a dream you were hoping to get out of soon.

Not recognizing any faces in the crowd, you looked around, your vision blurry as you spot a few slightly similar figures. You didn't wait for Spence, your feet guiding you straight to them as if on autopilot.

“Oh, pumpkin...” you heard a familiar voice, but soon enough it was joined by an even more familiar embrace of no other than Garcia. Her arms wrapped tightly around your body, hugging you so tightly, you felt your ribs sink into your lungs.

As she pulled away, cupping your face you noticed your horribly red eyes, paired with chapped lips and wet stains all over your cheeks in the reflection of her big glasses. Since when were you crying? You couldn't even remember the way out of the building, especially not anything that happened after you cut the cord. The reflection in her glasses also showed you how much you were shaking.

Soon enough, you were accompanied by Spencer, who got an even tighter hug, making him breathless for a split second. You felt like you had to compose yourself, frantically wiping your tears away, not even hearing all the praise and grateful sighs of the rest of the team.

The time seemed to stop as you watched them greet you and Reid back, ensuring you both were okay. You saw his face, worryingly pale with the same wet stains as you. Everyone seemed to slow down, their voices were muffled and eerie, filling the buzzing silence in your mind. Peace.

That's what you felt, an undeniable, overwhelming peace taking over your body as they hugged you one by one. The pride in their voices made your heart melt in the softest ways. You looked around at the crowd of people, reporters, and town folks begging for explanations.

The faces you didn't recognize before will forever be engraved in your memory as the faces of people you saved.

You didn't exactly register what happened next; you just used simple flashes of images to create a wider look at the story. Reporters broke through the barriers, rushing towards you, begging for answers. Spencer covered your face with your hood, dragging you to the car as you both replied a simple: “No comment.”

The van seemed too dark on the inside in comparison to the flashes of cameras and the rising sun above the town, so you sunk deeper into your seat, allowing Spencer to put your belt on for you. You closed your eyes, focused on the soft sounds of the vehicle, getting away from the town hall's parking lot.

The drive to your apartment was quick, but you still had the time to peek through half-lidded eyes at Spencer's profile. He was focused on the road, nervously tapping his fingers over the steering wheel, no words leaving his mouth, biting his cheeks to keep that focus.

Your argument back in the basement, at least the memory of it, flooded your mind as you realized he looked so similar to when he denied leaving you alone. The sting of his words, or what's more accurate — the lack of them — made your heart flutter painfully against your chest, but you couldn't bear the idea of speaking up.

You couldn't remember using the elevator or unlocking your door, as if your life turned into a time-lapse movie, missing a few slides. As you realized what was going on, Spencer had already entered the apartment, helping you rid of your hoodie, covered with sweat and tears.

“Sweetheart,” he muttered, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling his face into your shoulder tiredly. “Are you okay?”

The question seemed ridiculous to you, making you frown and look down at the mess he called hair. “Y-yeah...? I'm fine,” you whispered, mindlessly reaching your hand to the loose strands, running your fingers through them.

“You've been staring at your cup for three minutes and twelve seconds, that doesn't seem fine to me.”

His words made you blink uncontrollably, making the blurry splashes of color sharpen in front of you, showing you a cup of almost already cold tea. Before you could speak up, he guided you to sit on the couch, bringing the cup to you with a warm yet tired smile.

The silence seemed to calm him. You watched as he sat beside you, draping his arm over the back of the couch to play with your hair with his eyes closed. His cardigan was lying behind him on the pillow, leaving him in a white t-shirt.

“Talk to me,” he whispered, not opening his eyes just yet. His voice was quieter than usual, lower even as he exhaled deeply. “You shouldn't have been there, I didn't know it would impact you so much…”

“It's not that,” you assured, shaking your head slightly, and curling your legs under your body. As much as you tried to focus, one thing kept you away from that graceful peace you felt before. “I was sure we were going to die there…”

“I know,” his whisper made chills run down your spine. Something you tried to avoid, a conversation you preferred to never have, seemed to be chasing after you.

“Why-” the crack in your voice betrayed you, making him look up at you. The worry in his eyes made the conflicting feelings inside you stir and turn your stomach around. “Back there... why didn't you say you love me back?”

The time has stopped again, making you watch all of the emotions running through his face and most importantly those deep brown eyes that stared back at you. Confusion, recollection, guilt, shame, anger... You could count them, but the new ones kept interrupting you. His face remained still, questioned with your words as he looked away just for a split second.

Your heart seemed to crush as a thought occurred in your disturbed mind. The easiest answer was, Spencer didn't love you. As much as you tried to push the intrusive thought away, it kept coming back until you sighed deeply. You looked at him for the last time before getting up from the couch, trying to give yourself the much-needed time.

“Wait, please...” he muttered as he realized you were gone, his lean frame following short after you. His hands reached to you as you stood by the bed, not knowing how to react.

“It's okay, Spence, really,” you whispered, your voice cracking again in that annoying way, making him cup your cheeks softly.

“Look at me, love,” his soft tone made you close your eyes but quickly open them. Teary and glistening with the dim light of your shared bedroom, you looked up as he asked. “I love you. I truly do. More than anything or anyone on this planet...”

“Why didn't you say it then, when I thought...” you trailed off as he shook his head softly, his hands that cupped your cheeks gently rubbing them to wipe the tears away.

“Isn't that obvious?” he questioned, his voice barely above a whisper as he rested his tired forehead against yours, lips softly brushing against yours as he continued. “We say we love one another all the time, don't we?”

“Yeah...” you whispered, confused and just as tired but eager for answers.

"And tell me, why did you say it back then, in that specific moment?"

You bit your lip to compose yourself, your warm hands gently tracing over his forearms, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. Your nails gently grazed over it, bringing shivers down his spine. "I though we are going to die... I wanted my last words..."

"Exactly," he exclaimed, pulling away from you, and tilting your head to face him. "All the time, I told you you'll do it, that we'll get out. If I told you I loved you, that would only mean I gave up on you."

As the words slipped through his lips, you felt his warmth envelop you in such a weird, unknown way it made you chuckle. Your response made him smile, capturing your lips in a quick, but soft kiss.

"And obviously I was right," he bragged through the kiss before pulling away, his hands slowly making their way down your body to stop at the bottom of your shirt, his fingers slipping right under the material to rub your skin there with his thumbs.

Spencer kissed the tears away before slowly moving lower, through your jaw to your sensitive neck, gently nipping at the most sensitive spots. "And I'll make sure to use the time you gave us to repent for the pain I caused you."

You couldn't help but wrap your arms around him tightly, tugging on his hair as his hands gripped your hips possessively. Soft groans leave his lips as you tug a little harder.

"How are you planning to do that, doctor Reid?" you chuckled, one hand reaching down to scratch his back while he guided you to sit on your shared bed.

"Well... I think I will start by kissing every little part of this gorgeous body, showing each one of them exactly... how... much... I... love... them," he teased, unbuttoning your shirt and following up with little kisses from your collarbone right to the waistband of your pants, tugging on your belt.

You felt the air leaving your lungs, tugging on his hair lightly from surprise. Biting your lip to stop smiling, you watched as he pulled your pants down, trailing kisses over your thighs.

"Spence," you get his attention, making those big brown eyes, glazed from arousal, focus on yours, sparkling with a bunch of feelings you couldn't even name yet.

"I know, sweetheart... I won't take long," he promises, his voice laced with that condescension that made your knees weak. Spencer quickly noticed it, chuckling as he led you to sit down on the bed, puppy eyes focused on little marks he had already left on the plush of your thighs.

His big hands rested on the outside of your legs, rubbing and kneading them just to tease you some more, before pulling them over his shoulders.

"Fuck," you breathe out at the way he just pulled you closer, his face so close yet so far from your core, making you ache inside. One of his hands slides under your shirt, resting on your sternum to gently push you to lie back and relax.

Your fingers mindlessly played with his hair as his lips left kisses over your knees, moving lower and lower until he heard you gasp when he teased your sex over your underwear.

"Needy, aren't you?" he asked, thumbs gently rubbing against your inner thighs, grazing the hem of your underwear. His eyes stared up at you, half-lidded and bothered while he licked his lips, silently asking for permission.

Just the warmth of your body against him, soft gasps and that desperate look in your eyes was enough of an answer. His fingers crooked under the waistline and slowly peeled your underwear to the side, holding it with one hand while the other teased you.

"Spencer, just..." you start but he shushes you, keeping you nice and quiet as he takes his time kissing over the wettest and most sensitive spots between your legs. He groans at your taste as usual, making out with your sex as you whimper under his grasp.

The filthy sounds of his mouth on you fill the quiet room, simply followed by your muffled whimpers and the creaks of your bed with every jolt of your hips. You feel out of breath as you near your release, biting down on your knuckles to suppress your whines.

Spence saw your reactions, felt the constant spasming of your hole against his greedy tongue as you reached your climax, and chuckled drunkenly while lapping at your convulsing gently, lubing it up to replace his tongue with his fingers soon enough.

"Too much," you cried out as he rubbed his finger over the muscle, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I not done loving you yet..." he cooed, lips softly brushing against your inner thighs, tracing over the marks he left. Soft voice and those half-lidded eyes staring at you with that pleading, almost begging look made you weak, unable to resist his request.

You groaned as you crawled back onto the bed, giving him more space to kneel between your spread thighs and pull your underwear off your legs fully. His proud smirk makes you roll your eyes, but still unable to hold back a smile as you reach out to unbutton his shirt.

"I'm ready," you assure as he keeps stretching you open with his fingers, gently easing in and out while staring at his spit-covered digits. The way they disappear into your snug hole hypnotizes him in such a cruel way, making him ignore your desperate pleas for attention.

It only stops when you use his own tactics, tugging on his belt to coax a groan out of him. His eyes shoot down to watch as you fumble with his clasp, trying to unlock it. Spencer just watches your poor tries, biting his lip to hide a smile creeping on them.

"Come on, angel, you've done it plenty of times," he teases while curling his fingers against that sweet spot that makes your toes curl and lips open into a pretty 'o' shape with a silent gasp.

You finally managed to unbuckle his belt, letting it open against his lap with a soft thud against his jeans. He chuckled sweetly as he stood up, pulling his pants down just to rid of his shirt the next second.

"A little unfair, don't you think?" he questioned, kneeling back on the bed and hiking your legs over his thighs, earning a squeak from you as he pulled you closer. His hands quickly ran from your knees to your waist, rolling your shirt over your chest.

You smiled innocently and lifted your arms, allowing him to do all the work. He nodded gratefully and took your shirt off, throwing it somewhere on the ground just to be forgotten by both of you as he hovered over you, eyes fixated between your legs to watch as his already throbbing cock rub against you.

"I love you," he whispered while resting his forehead against yours, lips nipping at yours with each word before he kissed you, softly claiming your lips. Spencer groaned as he aligned his tip with your entrance, his voice low and devoted, making you swallow his every little grunt.

"I love you," he repeated like a mantra with every inch that he pushed into you, feeling your warm, slick walls capturing him so deliciously tight. You felt every little vein rubbing against you, every breath of his on your neck, as he moved his kisses there.

Every time you tried to say the same, his teeth sunk slightly into your neck, silencing you. His hands roamed over your chest and sides, kneading your soft and hot skin, his thrusts speeding up with every little I love you falling out of his mouth.

Your nails grazed his back, moaning with pure delirium, not worrying about your neighbors anymore. Spencer moved his kisses to your chest, marking it just like your thighs, each one with an addition of those sweet three words.

You felt that familiar knot building up in your stomach again, tears welling up in your eyes as your body moved in sync with his, a sweet symphony of your moans, his grunts, and slick slapping of your bodies against each other filled the bedroom, echoing within the walls.

His grip on your hips tightened, a clear signal he's nearing his release too. Spencer rested his head on your chest, clinging to you desperately, as he started whimpering soft I love yous straight against your heart.

You called out his name in pure ecstasy, drawing blood from his neck under your fingertips as your walls clenched around him with the waves of your orgasm. It triggered his own, spilling his release deep inside of you, bounding you together with the last, silent "I love you."

masterlist | request info

[imtryingbuck]

Timeless Love part two

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/n’s life after he finds her in the base.

Word count: 2,037

Warnings: angst (nightmares). fluff. medical inaccuracy (probably, most definitely). pregnancy.

Part 1

Masterlist

“I made a promise didn’t I?”

~~~

True to his word - nearly eighty years later - Bucky got down on one knee by the lake near the tower and asked her to marry him and of course she said yes.

Six months after he proposed, a year after she woke up, Tony had the large room that was normally used for his luxurious parties transformed into a magical, picture perfect wedding venue.

Bucky’s eyes welled up with tears as he watched the love of his long life walk down the aisle towards him, Steve and Sam stood next to him with soft smiles on their lips, Nat and Wanda standing on opposite sides of them with the same expression on their faces, Tony’s arm was wrapped around hers as they walked closer to her happiness.

Their hearts beating as one once they were announced as man and wife, both had tears running down their faces as they shared a passionate kiss.

In the year they’ve been married everything was perfect by day, full of laughter, happiness and love but by night as the compound grows completely silent Bucky would flinch as her cries would wake him up, he knew better than to touch her when she’s having a nightmare since the first time - and only time - he did, she had him pinned faced down on his stomach and his right arm put behind him painfully, his heart had pounded violently against his chest not because he was scared of her but for her, his calming soft voice finally managed to wake her up; for the rest of the night she clung on to him as her tears wet his naked chest.

That night was no different.

He watched in agony as she tossed and turned from her side of the bed, her eyes moving frantically behind her closed eyelids, mumbling quietly but what he could pick up was ‘no’, ‘I’ve been good’, ‘please stop’.

“Doll, sweetheart. Doll come back to me, you’re safe I promise.” He said softly. “Come on my love, wake up.” After over five minutes of him trying to coax her back awake it worked.

“B-Bucky?”

“I’m here darling, you’re okay I promise.” He sat there watching as she came to her senses, hearing her heart beat settle he knew she realised where she was and that she was safe. “C-Can I hold you?”

She doesn’t answer verbally, instead she crawls over towards him and climbs on to his lap and into his welcoming embrace. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry doll?”

“I… I woke you up didn’t I?”

“It’s okay.” Running his fingers up and down her naked back feeling the scars as he does, Bucky places kisses to her forehead and hairline. “Do you want to try and get some more sleep?”

“Can I stay here?”

“Of course my love.” He shifts them both whilst he pulled up the pillows to be behind his back, then grabbing the covers and pulling it over her. “Goodnight doll, I love you.”

“I love you too Buck, please don’t forget that.”

Having a medical degree really came in handy when someone was injured on a mission. Sam had just been shot down out of the sky landing hard on the ground, as Nat and Steve covered Y/n she cut Sam’s suit to get to his side where she made a hole to drain the blood that was filling his lungs. “Steve we need to get him back to the tower and quickly.”

“Let’s move him.”

“Y/n… are-are you carrying me?” Sam’s voice stuttered with a slur.

“I am.”

“I’m never going to live this down.” Nat couldn’t help but laugh and nod in agreement. “Y/n?”

“Yeah?” She replied as she laid him gently on the table in the jet.

“P-please don’t let me die.”

“You’re not going anywhere, I promise.”

Y/n let Steve carry Sam out once they landed back at home just so no one teased him about being carried by a woman who was smaller than him. But it was too late Tony and Bucky teased him the second they were allowed to see him.

“If Y/n didn’t do what she did Sam wouldn’t be here right now.” Helen Cho stated once she had finished giving the team an update on Sam’s condition. “Y/n can I speak to you privately?”

Once they were in an empty room, Y/n grew anxious thinking she did something wrong and that Helen was going to tell Fury which meant Fury would kick her off the team and she would be send to the Raft and she would never see Bucky again and he would move on and forget all about her and she would be alone an-and-

“Y/n breath! Deep breath in, slowly exhale.”

“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to hurt him-“

“You saved his life. You did an amazing job and that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I want to offer you a job in the medical bay.”

“Bu-but will Fury allow that?”

“I don’t see what the problem will be, I’ll speak with him but whatever he says just know the offer is still there.”

“I’ll do it, unless he says no.”

When she told Bucky that she was potentially going to be a nurse again he beamed with pride, picking her up and spinning them around, telling her how proud he was of her. Two days later Fury called her into the office he had at the tower to discuss how she would split her time between missions and working in medical bay. Bucky didn’t think it was fair that she would still have to go on missions but she didn’t care, she was just happy she could be a nurse again and help people.

For six months she had been separating her time between missions and working in the medical bay Bucky had to admit that he was missing his wife and he understood that she was busy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her nonetheless.

He had gone down to the med bay to see if he could grab lunch with her, Helen shook her head at him and told him that Y/n had gone up to their apartment, the place he was now standing outside of. Slowly opening the door - just as he and the team did in order not to scare her and send her into a panic attack - he stood leaning against the doorframe and it felt like he had been transported back in time at seeing her sitting at her small desk hunched over it with paperwork in front of her, he couldn’t help but smile.

“I can feel your eyes on me” her whispered voice snapped him out of his memory.

“Are you alright doll?”

“I’m okay just tired, how are- what’s wrong?”

“Stand up.”

“What?” Crossing over to where she was sat he took her hands in his and helped her stand, his eyes squinting as he looked her up and down. “Buck? What… are you doing?”

He gets down on his knees and presses his ear against her stomach, a soft gasp falling from his lips, one hand on her waist the other holding the back of her thigh. A chuckle falls from his lips as he pushes his ear further into her stomach.

“Buck?”

“Doll” he looks up at her with tears glistening his eyes making the blue even brighter. “Baby you’re pregnant.”

“What? I-I can’t- are you sure?”

“There’s a heartbeat! I can hear it! Strong, a very strong heartbeat, doll.”

“We’re… are we having a baby?” Bucky looked up seeing tears fall from her eyes, he nodded with a huge smile on his lips before he goes back to listening to the heartbeat of their unborn baby.

When Helen confirmed that there was indeed a baby in Y/n’s stomach Bucky wrapped his arms around the love of his life and all but took the air out of her lungs by kissing her and telling her how much he loves her.

“I have some more news for you.” Helen’s voice made them pull apart.

“What? Is it okay? Is something wrong?” The panic in Bucky’s voice was clear as his eyes bounced from Y/n’s stomach to Helen.

“Everything is fine, they are both healthy.” She smiles.

“B-Both? As in-“

“Twins?”

“Congratulations James and Y/n, you’re having twins.”

Bucky passed out.

As the months passed by the bigger Y/n’s stomach grew, at seven months pregnant she looked like she was carrying five babies - as she put it. Bucky loved it though. Watching as her belly swelled with not one but two of his babies did something to him, he was already protective of her as it was but now it increased a thousand times over. And now he never let her do anything for herself, if she needed food? He got it, needed a drink? He got it, hell even if she needed to go to the bathroom? He took her.

And when Bucky wasn’t there and on a mission he had someone else running around for her.

“Hey doll, I’m just finishing off my run and I’ll be right home. How are you?“ He panted lightly down the phone, rolling his eyes at Sam as he runs around him in circles.

“I’m okay, my waters broke, how are you?”

“I’m good- wait, what did you just say?” Bucky’s eyes widen hearing her words.

“I’m o-“

“No not that bit, doll did you just say your waters broke?”

“Oh yeah, I’m on my way to Helen now.”

Bucky ran as fast as his legs would carry him back to the compound with Steve and Sam right behind him. His heart was pounding in his chest the closer he got to his world.

“I’m here! They aren’t here yet are they?” He panted as he got around the corner.

“No Buck, not yet.” Sighing a breath of relief that he hadn’t missed the birth of his children, he leaned his head against her shoulder.

Seven hours after her waters broke she was gripping onto Bucky’s and Steve’s - they had asked him to be there after they announced to the team that she was pregnant, Steve cried whilst saying ‘yes’ - hands for dear life as she pushed the first baby out, followed a few minutes by the second baby.

“Boys. Two healthy boys.” Helen beamed as she handed the crying babies to their momma.

*four years later*

Tony had surprised the married couple with giving them their own floor in the tower, it was quickly transformed into a perfect family home for the four of them. Bucky was currently walking through the door that led him to his family, a smile instantly lighting up his face as he heard the excited squeals coming from the twins, no doubt causing chaos.

“Dada!”

“Hey little man.” Picking up his son, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Been good for momma?”

“Yes!” Liar he thought to himself.

“Buck?”

“I’m here doll.” He smiled at hearing his other trouble maker come running towards him.

With his two sons in each arm he walked towards the kitchen where his better half was cooking dinner, his eyes never leaving her form even when the twins wiggled to get out of his arms.

“I can feel your eyes on me.”

“I’m just admiring my view.” Wrapping his arms around her, his hands going straight to her deflated bump - which he missed so much - he places a kiss to her neck. “Where’s my little princess?”

“She’s asleep, but she needs to wake up now so she can sleep through the night.”

“I’ll go and wake up our little grumpy pants.”

As he walks out of the bedroom, he stands in the doorway watching as Y/n gets the boys into their chairs, both of their attention focused on the food in front of them, he smiles softly. His family was completed by the newest addition which he currently had in his arms, their three month old baby girl.

He made a promise so many years ago, a promise he made sure he kept to.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[scarletwinterxx]

wait for your love - haechan scenario

hellloooo so this one is a request. I've mentioned it before, i'm still not the best at writing angst but I try😅 when i saw this request, a few scenes immediately popped in my head. Hope you like it🥺 also I was listening to We Can't Be Friends by Ariana on repeat while writing this.

Also a short anecdote, when I saw nct dream last year during Sorry, Heart stage I literally bawled my eyes out. Like full on ugly sobbing in my seat haha I was okay during the first verse but when it got to Haechan's turn to sing the chorus the tears just went falling like waterfalls

ANYWAYSSSSSS

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

and if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

"What are we then?"

Those words shouldn't scare Haechan as much as it does. He hates it too. He hates how he can't say it to you but he doesn't want to let you go either.

He hates this grey area the two of you are in now.

"We're us. Isn't that enought?" he asks back

"For fuck's sake, we've been seeing each other for what? like 2 years now? And until now you still can't commit? I can't call you my boyfriend, you don't like it when people ask if we're dating"

"Because it's none of their fucking business"

"Well it's my business, I'm asking you right now, what the hell am I to you?" you stare at him, waiting for an answer. Any answer.

At this point hearing him say you don't mean anything to him would make more sense than the usual silence he'd give you.

"Baby, please I don't want to argue" he mumbles

"See, this is what you do all the time. I'm not a play toy. I'm not some past time you can call whenever you're bored, Haechan. We're adults now. I've invested my time, my feelings, a fraction of my life to you. For this. And you can't even answer me, is that too much to ask? Am I too much?"

You look at him, waiting for him to argue back. You didn't know it was this draining to be in a relationship or situationship or whatever it is you have with him. At some point you got tired of asking him what this all means. When it's clear he's not going to answer you, you stood up from your seat

"I can't do this" you whispered

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do what you're asking, Haechan" you speak clearer this time

He waits a few moments, letting the words sink in.

"What do you mean? I thought you said... you said we can"

With every word he tries not to show he's breaking right and the only thing keeping him together is you, and here you are about to slip through his fingers.

"We can't keep all promises, right? Like how you promised you'll try. This isn't trying."

"Baby-" "Don't" you cut him off. You know it will be a lot harder to walk away if you hear him call you that, it's already hard on you now.

"This is me letting you go" were your last words to him before walking away. You wipe the few tears that escaped, plastering a very fake smile before taking the first step away.

One of many you'd try to take just to get away from this heartbreak.

You would want to say that's not how it ended, that he changed his mind and finally mustered the courage to call you and say what he's really thinking. You want to say that he came the next day and surprised you, knocking on your door holding sunflowers for you.

But no.

After that day you never heard from him again. When you got the (unspoken) message that he'll never try to reach out and fix things between the two of you, you blocked him on everything. Your friends didn't ask questions, you went on with your life. Trying your best to bury and let that part of your story go.

From spending every day and most nights together to being strangers. You acted like he never existed to cover up the hurt you're feeling.

It's been over a year since that. You haven't really cried about it. Not even the day after he left. It's like you're just a shell now. You locked everything in a pandora box in your head, to be forgotten for the rest of time.

"Hey did you hear Dreamers new song?" your roommate asks the moment she steps through the door. You were sitting on the dinning chair, stacks of works and your laptop infront of you

She hears the song playing in the background, "Of course you have, it's good right?" she smiles

"Mhm, I like it"

"Sorry, Heart. Definitely an anthem for the broken hearted" she says withouth meaning out, "I meant like you know it's a sad song" she adds

You chuckle, she probably thinks this song is very fitting for you and you kinda agree with her.

"Anyways, I'm going to the lounge later. Want to come with?"

"Sounds good, I actually need to go out, stretch my legs and get some fresh air"

"Okay, let's leave after lunch"

You met with other friends at the lounge, chatting and sharing notes together. It was a good way to pass time. These days you find that it's best to keep yourself occupied so as not to think about things you'd rather not think about. You kept yourself busy. Finding random hobbies, fixation. For a while you liked running after class, then you got into baking, then crocheting. Activities that keeps you busy, distracted long enough not to remember.

One day you were at a record store, your newest hobby. Browsing for a new record to take home. Today out of the days you forgot to bring your headphones so you hum along the music playing in the store.

While reading the back of the record you were holding, you hear it.

A familiar voice you haven't heard in a long time, a voice you didn't think you'd hear again.

Your head shoots up, looking at the other side of the aisle.

You'd know his voice anywhere. You can be inside the loudest room and you'd still be able to single out his voice.

There he stands right across you, signing out your favorite bands newest song while he has his headphones on. Probably not realizing he's singing a bit too loud.

When Haechan felt someone staring at him, he looks up not expecting you to be looking back at him. He blinks a few times, comtemplating if this was all a dream or he's going crazy and started to hallucinate.

Immediately you put back the record you were holding and ran out the store. Once again leaving Haechan behind.

You're already far by the time he takes the steps to follow you, thinking this time he's not going to make the same mistake but you were already gone.

He knows you blocked him. Of course he tried to call you but his efforts were shut down when he couldn't reach you or his messages won't deliver.

Similar to you, he tried to find distractions. To drown out the thoughts, he drinks, goes out to parties, too many nights he drunk texted you, saying how much he missed you only to see it in the morning unsent. Most of the time there's music directly blasting through his ears. Music being his only escape from his own thoughts, if he's left long enough it's like his own mind is beating him up.

That's how he got into collecting records. He was on the look out for this new record so he decided to drop by the store that day. He didn't expect to see you there.

Out of all the places he'd see you again.

He's not going to lie, he imagined this moment many times before. Even rehearsed what he'd say to you when he see you again but now that it happened he just froze on the spot.

Just like that it's like he back in his room, watching you walk out his door for the last time. He's back to square one.

It's been weeks and no sign of Haechan. It's a good thing, you think.

Also you've been subtly avoiding going to public places just in case you accidently see him again. You thought you're ready, but the moment you saw him it's like all of these emotions you've repressed since you left came back again.

Your roommate finally convinced you to come out. A few of you were gathering for karaoke night. You almost said no again but you need a night out, one more night in your room might just drive you crazy.

"Oh my gosh, girlie you're hereeeee" one of your friends squeals when she saw you walk in the room

"I'm here as a spectator, not to sing" you tell her, accepting the bottle of beer she hands you

"Alright by me, you better cheer the loudest when I sing"

You got invited to karaoke night. A couple of students from campus got together tonight to hang out for chill night. Even though you don't really sing, you do enjoy hanging out with your friends.

You were talking to another friend when suddenly you hear the intro to a familiar song being sung by a familiar voice.

왜 이리도 쉽게 토라지는지? (Why do I become mad so easily) 내 맘이 작아서 너무 한심하지? (It's pathetic that my heart is so small right?)

You look over the makeshift stage to see Haechan holding the mic, singing out one of your favorite songs.

어떻게 널 볼까? (How can I see you?) 밤새 뒤척인 맘의 조각들 반짝이지 않아 (I toss and torn all night The fragments of my heart don't shine) 난 알고 있는데 내가 할 수 있는 건 (I know it, what I can do is) "I'm sorry", 그 말뿐이란 걸 (Only those words)

Before the chorus starts, Haechan looks through the crowd finding you. He looks straight at you as if he's singing every word to you.

Words you wished you heard from him a long time ago.

Tell me why I let you down Any chance I get, I'm breaking down 잘못인 걸 다 아는데 (아는데), 왜 힘든 걸까? (I know I'm at fault but why is it tiring?) To tell you that I'm sorry, heart

For the rest of the song the two of you look at each other. You listen to him, imagining it was really him who was saying those words and not through the song.

When he finished, you stood up to go outside and get some fresh air.

Of course he's here. Luck was never on your side and fate seems to like playing jokes on you.

Haechan watches your back, giving the mic to the next person before following you out. You hear the footsteps behind you, knowing who it might be without looking back.

You're now at the rooftop of the building, a fewer people were hanging out here than inside. Feeling another presence beside you but they haven't said anything yet.

Even though you already know who it was, you don't say anything instead you get another beer from a nearby cooler and passing it over to Haechan without a word.

For a while neither of you said anything, watching the view in front of you.

“I get flashbacks when I see you and not the good kind” you finally speak out loud

“You’re saying that like I was the worst thing that ever happened to you” he snickers, holding the bottle up to his lips to drink his beer

He really didn’t think you’d talk to him or even acknowledge his existence at all. But now here you are, at some rooftop at a party he least expected to see you. 

He’s trying not to be too obvious but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Maybe it was the way the light hit your face, or how the cold breeze was hitting his skin and yours. The moment he arrived he was kind of hoping to find you here tonight. He knew some of your friends were coming, you did use to have the same circle of friends until he started to distance himself.

He's glad though knowing you found good people who'll be there for you.

He's looking at you again, not being able to stop himself. It was at this moment he realized. Realized something he never thought he was ever capable of ever doing again. 

Feeling. Loving. Falling and accepting. 

The sound of horns from cars and the murmuring people in the background, the city lights in front the two of you and the stars as the witnesses. Witness for something that’s about to unfold.

It was scary. This new found knowledge scared him. 

In the past it was scary to him to even think about being tied down. To be committed to someone. All of this comes from his fear of failing. He wanted to tell you that before, the last day before you ended things between the two of you he wanted to let you know the reason why he couldn’t set things straight with you was because he was scared of letting you down. He was scared you might feel trapped. 

It's wasn't you who was too much for him. He was the one who felt like he was too much for you. He thought he was being too fast, too careless. His fears got the better of him, costing him a future with you.

You walked away and everything in his life got worse. Like the only light in his life was extinguished. 

Right now feels like that one chance to get things right. Even though he still feels scared, this time he’s willing to take that risk for you.

There are other things to be scared of, like your gaze. It was the way you were looking at him.

Like you can just consume all of him with those eyes. How you’re saying a thousand words with them without saying a single syllable.

One look into his own eyes and he's ready to surrender everything to you.

“Do you really want to hear my answer to that or are you still emotionally unavailable?” you ask, taking a sip of your own drink. 

“At what point did you realize you liked me? Like really liked me?” he asked instead, all he got was a laugh from you. You were laughing out loud like it was the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. 

“We were watching a movie, I mumbled something under my breath. I think it was something along the lines of ‘oh that’s so cute’, talking to myself. Then I felt you hold my hand, you kissed it before holding it in yours for the rest of the movie. It’s not the grandest gesture but at that moment I felt so content. It was all I wanted but I knew you didn’t think the same way” you smile sadly recalling that memory. Giving him an answer, wondering why you did.

"I guess I never said sorry, I'm sorry"

You shrug, taking another swig from your drink. "What's done is done. I would say no hard feelings but I kinda do hate you for what you did"

"Good. I'd be sadder if you said you didn't care. Hate isn't the opposite of love, it's indifference" he says

"Was that what you felt for me before? Indifference?" you can't help but ask, in your mind you're not sure if you're ready to hear his answer but it's too late to take it back

He shakes his head, drinking the rest of his drink before standing straight to face you

"I felt more for you, more than I ever said. In that I was wrong, I admit. I should've told you. It might be no use in telling you now, but I did feel something for you. I was being stupid and was too scared to admit it"

"Then why are you telling me now?"

"Because I realized not having you in my life is scarier than the thoughts in my head. I was too scared of my own mind, I sacrificed you instead when I shouldn't have. I could've told you. I wish I told you"

You listen to him, letting it sink in. For so long you asked just what went wrong, what you could've done differently or what would've happened if you stayed.

"I waited, I waited until you told me you liked me. But the more I waited, the more I started to not like myself. I knew I deserved more but I stayed because I wanted to be with you. You were always first to me" you say

Hearing you say those words breaks something in him. He did like you, he still likes you. Haechan has always kept a safe distance from everyone, you were the only exception.

"I'm glad we got to talk" you say to him with a smile, then you walk back inside.

This time Haechan didn't follow you because he knows this won't be the last time he sees you.

"Oh my gosh, so that's what happened between the two of you?"

After that conversation with Haechan, you went back to your place and called it a night. The next day your roommate noticed you were staring blankly into space, out of concern she asked you what's wrong. You told her all that happened in the past 24 hours then you told her all about your history with Haechan.

"Yep, I haven't seen him around campus that much after that"

"You know, one of his friends is my blockmate and we go to the same gym. I heard he did an exchange program for a year, maybe that's why you haven't seen him around" she tells you

"Oh really, he did mention it before. Maybe he went through with it" you mumbled

"So you guys were like in a situationship then?"

"I guess so. We weren't exclusive, but he was the only guy I was seeing for like 2 years. Remember when I was barely home"

"Oh! That was him? He used to like send food here all the time whenever you were busy studying"

"What?"

"Oh my god I forgot to tell you that? yea this was like when you guys were a thing. During exam season or when you're busy with reports and stuff, he'd drop off food for you" she tells you

"I thought you had those delivered"

"Girl no, half of the time he leaves it at our door. The only reason I know is because I caught him one time and he fessed up"

No, you definitely didn't know that.

Haechan never told you. He never told you anything. At some point you thought it was better to not ask instead of being met with silence as a reply.

One thing you know though is he's the type to take action rather than say it. You won't be surprised if he did it before, he might not be good at expressing himself but he never passed the chance to make you feel like you're the only girl in his world.

It feels like that was another lifetime ago, that at some point in your life you'd rather be the backburner than totally lose him.

Seeing him again was no help. It's like you spiraled down again. You thought he didn't have this effect on you anymore but you were wrong. You'd be lying if you say you haven't thought of him since you saw him last.

What you didn't know was Haechan felt exactly the same. He's trying to think of a way to reach out to you without seeming to needy, he didn't want you to think he's forcing himself back into your life.

Another week has passed and still no sign of you. He decided to get drinks with his friends, he's a few drinks in when he decided to call it an early night. This really wasn't where he wanted to be.

He's not sure where he wants to be. All he knows is his night would be a thousand times better if he sees you, even just a glimpse.

On his walk back to his place, he plucked a branch from a random plant. Picking out the leaves one by one, leaving a trail behind him.

You're on your way back from the library, deciding to get some midnight snacks first. You noticed the scattered leaves on the road, chuckling at the sight. The more steps you take, you slowly realized it's the same path to your apartment.

You slowed down, looking around to check if anybody was close to you but the street is empty. You grab your phone in your pocket just in case, while you hold your keys with the other hand.

When you're nearing your front door, you see someone sitting at the steps. Head lying low, you can't even see his face but you'd know that brown mop of hair anywhere.

"Haechan?" you called out for him

Haechan looks up, seeing you walking towards him. At first he thinks he's dreaming, he wipes his eyes to clear his vision. Even pinched his arm to check if this was real.

You're here.

He's here.

"What are you doing here?" you asked once you're standing right in front of him

"I grabbed drinks with Yangyang and Jeno, I swear I was walking home. I guess I got confused" he mumbles, now holding a branch with no leaves on it.

You look at it, then looked back at the trail of leaves behind you.

"Do you want to come in? Go drink some water or coffee first before you head back" you offered

"Are you sure?" he asks back, standing up from the steps

"Wouldn't offer if I wasn't. Let's go inside, it's getting chilly"

He steps aside to let you go first, following behind you. The elevator ride up to your floor was quiet, even after going in your apartment Haechan didn't say a word.

"Here, have some water. I can make coffee but it's too late to drink it, do you want ramen or something?" you ask him while getting the snacks you got out of the grocery bag

"Do you usually ask guys to come in with you and cook ramen for them?" he asks

He meant to only think of it, but with the little amount of alcohol in his system seems to have turn the filter off.

You snicker at his question. Instead of answering him, you grab two ramen cup noodles from your cupboard and turn the kettle on. You wait for the red light to turn green before pouring it in the cups, bringing it over the kitchen island and taking the seat beside him.

"I can't even order late night snacks without thinking about you, we used to do it all the time when I came over at yours or when we're having late night hangouts. You ruined a lot of things for me" you finally say

Haechan just looks at your profile. Even though you say it like that, there's really no trace of anger on your face. Maybe you are, but to him you look so pretty and cozy. He wanted to beat himself up for ever thinking he can walk away from this. From you.

"For what it's worth, whenever I get drunk I used to text you all the time. You probably blocked me because the messages never got delivered. Every morning I see that on my phone, message after message until I lost count. I knew you weren't going to answer but I still did it"

"Why?" you ask him

"I missed you. I wanted to tell you I was being stupid, I wanted to beg for you to take me back. But all of those thing I could only say with a bit of help from alcohol. That's how I knew I couldn't go back, not yet anyways. You deserved more than drunken confessions"

You look over at him, for the first time since that night you really look at him. The same eyes that used to feel like home to you.

He looked so different yet the same.

You still feel the same.

"It's been 3 minutes, you hate soggy noodles" you nod at his ramen. Opening your own cup to start eating. Neither of you said anything after that. It wasn't awkward, you actually enjoyed the quiet.

For the first time since Haechan came back and you saw him again, your mind was at peace. You weren't overthinking things. You weren't wondering your long list of what if's.

It's like a part of you knew he's finally here again.

After the quick snack session, he helped you clean up before walking towards the door.

"Thank you for the uh snacks and water" he didn't know what to say, a shy Haechan is a rare sight so you can't help but smile.

Haechan sees this, he can feel his own cheeks redden. You still look so beautiful when you smile, so beautiful that he's ready to fight anyone who makes you smile that isn't him.

"Go home, it's late. You're sober now right?" you ask him

"Yea, I'm good"

"Okay, don't want you getting confused and going to someone else's front door"

"I promise I won't drunk text you again so will you unblock me now? Or if you have a new number you can text me or whatever. Actually you know what, do whatever makes you feel comfortable. Don't listen to me, I'm just blabbing now"

You can't help but giggle at him, the action making Haechan's heart skip a few beats.

"I'm imagining this is how those drunk texts would sound like" you say

"I missed you, Y/N" he mumbles

You don't say anything. He can hear his own heartbeating, each thump like it's the last then you're smiling back at him

"Goodnight, Haechan"

He smiles at you, waving goodbye before finally walking out. He gestures for you to close the door behind him, only leaving after he hears the lock from the other side. He skips back home.

The next few days were back to normal, you weren't feeling gloomy. You were going out with friends. All in all, you're in a great mood.

"Hey, somebody left this outside. Tell me I'm crazy but is this from Haechan?" your roommate hands you over a small bouquet of flowers with a paper bag full of snacks.

"Uh yeah, I think so"

"I know things didn't end well between the two of you, but the boy is still so whipped for you" she mumbles, watching the small smile on your face

"Maybe it's just a peace offering"

"Right, well whatever it might be I say go for it. As long as you're happy"

You look up at her, shocked to hear that all of a sudden "Isn't that what you're worrying about? You really think I didn't notice it, you were listening to Sorry, Heart on repeat the other day then now you're listening to love songs. If he's it for you, then give it a chance"

She left after that, leaving you alone at home.

You take the gifts Haechan sent to your room, putting the flowers in a vase. You see a small note attached,

xx12131xxx just in case you lost it or changed your number. - H

You get your phone and dial the number, it's still in your phone. You unblock it first before you click call, waiting a few rings before you hear his voice

"Y/N?"

"How did you know it was me?"

"I wasn't expecting anyone else, and uh it looks like you didn't change your number"

"Oh yea uhm so you're unblocked now" you told him, not really sure what else to say

He chuckles, "Thanks, so I'm guessing you got the flowers and the snacks?"

"Yeah, thanks by the way. Why though?"

"You shared your stash with me the other night, just wanted to pay you back"

"You didn't have to, I offered. But thanks again"

"Hey uh are you busy right now? or tomorrow or really whenever you're free"

"I don't have anymore classes today"

"Do you want to go grab coffee or food or anything really. Whatever you want, my treat"

If someone told you you'd be going out to get drinks with Haechan, you'd say they're out of their mind. But here you are, visiting a new cafe you've never been to with a guy you thought you'd never be with again.

"I'd get the taro milktea, thanks"

"I'll take this one" he points at the drink in the picture, "And two of the cookies please, thank you" he pulls out his card to pay for the both of you. When you got your drinks and food, you walked back outside to sit on the vacant seats. The weather was nice, it wasn't too hot or too cold. A perfect day to be out.

You open your drink, taking a quick sip while Haechan does the same. You notice he made the face, like when he drinks or eats something sour.

"It's lemon flavored isn't it?" you chuckle, taking the drink from him and giving yours to him instead

"No, it's fine. I'll drink it"

"You hate anything sour flavored, I like lemon it's fine" you sip his drink, it does taste good but you know he won't like it

He watches you get the cookies, breaking it in half before giving him the other.

"If you have anything to say, just say it. You're too in your head again" you tell him

"Sorry, I was just..." he's at lost for words, but this time not for the wrong reason.

It's like his mind can't put what he's feeling in to words.

"Did you get the record you were looking for?" you ask him, changing the topic

"Huh?"

"At the record store"

"Oh I wasn't really buying anything, I was just browsing around. They didn't have the vinyl version of the album I wanted, I'll come back some other time" he tells you, taking a sip of your well now his drink.

"You were singing to the Dreamers, you know them?"

"I know a few songs, Sorry, Heart is good. I like that one"

"Me too. You sounded good when you sang it" you complimented him, this made him smile shyly at you

"Isn't it a bit too sad?" he asks, you shrug your shoulders

"I like it, although my roommate said I've been playing love songs these past few days" you shake your head, remembering what she told you

"Thank you by the way" Haechan suddenly says

"For what? You paid for our drinks"

"I meant for agreeing to get drinks with me. I was an asshole to you. All the time I was gone, I was thinking about how to make it up to you. That is if it's okay with you" he tells you.

He mentally pats himself on the back for not messing that up. Maybe slowly he'll learn how to speak his true feelings, he just hopes you'll be there to listen to him. Even though it took him this long.

"The last thing you asked me was what are we, I was being stupid. I wanted us to be more. I wanted us to be official but I was always scared to say it. I don't know why I was ever scared of committing, I could've been with you. That's my regret"

"Haechan"

"You're not a playtoy to me or just some past time whenever I'm bored. You were never too much for me. If anything I was the one who lacked. I don't blame you for walking away, I deserved that. I needed that so I could finally grow up"

You listen to him. You listen to him finally say the words you've been waiting to hear from him.

"This time I want to do it right, I want to take you out on dates, be there to go on night walks with you, go buy records we'd listen to, whatever you want to I just wan to do it with you. If you'll still have me"

The last words was barely a whisper, like he's scared to say it outloud, scared you might turn him away.

Haechan feels his heart beating wildly again, one day he might pass from arrest he thinks. Then you smile at him and it's like everything in his world stops.

You lean over, kissing the corner of his lip lightly. It was so quick but to him it felt like long time

"All I wanted was that, when it gets too much in your head you can talk to me. I'll listen. We don't have to walk away from each other" you tell him

"I'm sorry" he whispers

"I forgive you, the same way I forgive myself from everything that has happened. We need to heal from those wounds for us to move forward"

He smiles at you, he didn't even notice he got a bit teary eyed until a few tears escaped. He wipes it away before looking back at you again.

You stand up from your seat, holding out your hand to him. He looks at your hand then your face then your hand again before intertwining it with his.

There wasn't a destination in mind, he's probably thinking the same. The two of you just walk where your steps lead you to, with him following beside you holding you close to him.

Haechan looks at your hands, a smile forming on his face. He leans towards you to kiss you on the head, the action making you smile too.

"Thank you" you hear him mumble. You didn't say anything back but he felt you grip his hand tighter. Squeezing it three times.

And he knew everything was finally going to be okay. This time, you won't let go.

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#55: The Future Generations (1.06)

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

The CRM was so convinced that they were creating a better world for future generations but they failed to see how they’re actually destroying and traumatizing the youth and those that survive their horrible attacks. But fortunately, Rick and Michonne see right through them. 👌🏽 And what I see within these next scenes is the most gorgeous shot of Richonne of all time 🤩...

Beale and Rick continue their meeting and Beale reveals that, similar to Okafor, he also sacrificed people he cared about, his home, and the whole city of Pittsburg for the “greater good” of saving Philadelphia.

Then Beale says, “It’s not exactly tearing into a person with your canines, but it’s not nothing. isn’t that right?” Why do I have a feeling that of all the soldiers he’s asked that same question of what’s the worst thing you’ve done, Rick gave Beale the craziest answer he’s ever heard lol? 🤭

Rick replies, “No it’s not nothing, sir...My dad taught me, for better or worse…some things have to burn to bring things back.” And Beale agrees with that line of thinking, saying, “It was that. The sword that kills is the sword that brings life. I killed my past and a whole city so another could live.”

Whenever I hear Beale talk about the sword bringing life I always think Rick would agree with him it’s just Beale’s talking about the wrong sword.

Also, it’s interesting hearing Beale say he killed his past because the CRM nearly killed Rick’s past too by taking away the images of his loved ones from his mind. But fortunately, the sword-wielding woman who gives Rick life helped restore what the CRM tried to take from him. 😇

Beale tells Rick the first secret which is that the most likely outcome is they’re all gonna die. And then we see Michonne enter an auditorium where a projector shows a bunch of photos of little kids as a robotic-sounding soldier goes over the Child Evacuation Protocol of their horrific Operation N1W.

Then y’all, we’re hit with a stunning shot of Rick and Michonne in that candlelit bed scene, and the lighting and framing of it all is perfect. 🙌🏽

And of course, now that Michonne is no longer facing away from Rick they’re back up on each other as expected. 😊 Michonne looks up at Rick with her ring-clad hand on his face as she says, “So, we’re born this way.” And the eye contact. 🫠 My goodness, they invented chemistry. 💯

They cut to several more clips of Richonne kicking butt in TWD that just further hammers home that they’re cut from the same cloth. And then Rick smiles down at Michonne and says, “I guess so.”

I love that Rick and Michonne found someone who matches their crazy and their fighting spirit so much to where they can both just know 'we were born like this and that’s okay.' In fact, being a bit certifiably crazy is part of why they’re still here. 👌🏽 And they're crazy about each other which is part of what makes this story about 'crazy love' so golden.

Back in the echelon briefing, Rick learns that according to Beale humans only have 14 years left before extinction and that’s why the CRM does what it does.

Rick inquires about what they do and Beale says, “We’re trying to beat the odds, Grimes.” Then they cut to more TWD clips of Rick and Michonne, and I like how intercutting between Rick and Michonne clips really makes it feel like these two are one being. The baddest being. 😌

Michonne is appalled by what she is learning in the auditorium and Rick is appalled by what he’s learning in the briefing as Beale finally shares what the CRM is really up to. Beale says that they destroy other communities for resources, strategic superiority, and the CRM's favorite line “to ensure the city’s secrecy and security above all.”

I like the parallel clips they use of Rick looking up at a helicopter in TWD season 8 and in TOWL ep 1, as he learns that these helicopters he saw were likely heading out to cause some serious destruction. 

Michonne sits in the auditorium as it's revealed that the CRM intends to evacuate 10% of the children before the area is gassed and its population is liquidated. And you already know none of this is happening on Mama Michonne’s watch. She’s going to fight for these kids and her kids because clearly, this 'last light of the world' doesn’t care who they hurt.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And I know after having been gassed herself, Michonne is especially horrified that they intend to do it again to tons of innocent people.

Meanwhile, Beale tells Rick they have spies throughout the world to monitor and potentially sabotage others. Jadis must have been trying to win Spy of the Month, the way she stayed sabotaging Richonne and team family back in the day. 😒

Beale says the CRM was behind destroying Omaha and in 18 hours they’ll destroy Portland to become the supreme force on the continent.

And then we’re blessed with another great shot of Rick and Michonne in bed as Rick says they’ll tell the Civic Republic the truth about what the CRM does, like the bombing.

Rick says “if they won’t who will?” as Michonne intently says, “No one” and I admit I’m not the craziest about this dialogue but what it lacks in subtlety it more than makes up for with the stunning visual.

Because then Rick notes that they don’t leave people behind and Michonne affirms that this is what they do and y’all the visual of her sliding her ring-clad hand in his hair as they look at each other…Put it in the Louvre. 🤩🖼

This gorgeous visual right here is truly my favorite Richonne visual of all time. 👏🏽 These two are some serious stunners and this shot is a mesmerizing work of art. 😍🔥

gif cred: @lousolversons

Beale continues to give Rick the 411 on what they’re about to do and he’s so emotionally removed from the fact that he’s talking about wiping out a whole city of people. That alone lets you know his brand of crazy is a major problem and Rick can sense that too as he starts to reach for his knife.

Beale also says they’ll continue to take the resources of even more communities they find, which means eventually they’ll end up on ASZ's doorstep.

As Beale says, “Maybe we get to survive'' there are quick clips shown from several surviving members of the TWD cast. Michonne then radios Rick in the auditorium while she listens to the soldiers talk in a cold and disconnected manner about the trauma they’re bound to put these kids through.

In the final bedroom scene, Rick continues to go over he and Michonne’s plan and he lets her know to key the walkie if anything changes and then he’ll get back to her when he can. Hearing that is always sweet to me because even with the stuff he has to take care of with the plan, he wants her to be assured he’ll get to her if she needs him.

gif cred: @nat111love

Looking like a beautiful mermaid, Michonne says, “if I can be gotten back to.” 🧜🏾‍♀️ And then Rick’s walkie goes off in the briefing. 😬

Beale notices and Rick is quick on his feet saying it was just Thorne. Back in the auditorium, Danai does a great job communicating Michonne’s horror even through a mask as the CRM soldier continues their cold and emotionally detached speech even calling the stuffed animals “comfort items” to “furnish” the children with. 

As the projector lands on the final image of a young Black boy (which I like how Danai wanted that pic to be the final one to connect to Michonne’s kids RJ and Andre) we then get more TWD clips of the adorable Grimes kids. And I like how each clip feels like it embodies a different season - fall, winter, summer.

There’s Carl smiling on those train tracks. 😭 Judith smiling and hugging Michonne in the snow. 😭 And RJ’s adorable little smile at the beach. 😭 And then, having seen enough, Michonne makes her way out of the auditorium. 

I feel like here is a good time to note something regarding the CRM too. I know some felt like the handling of the CRM was rushed in TOWL and wanted it to be explored more in the show, but I think the CRM/Civic Repiblic was actually intended to be more of an arena for a far more personal story being told in The Ones Who Live.

This show was more about Rick and Michonne navigating a journey to overcome a lot of internal imprisonment, and the CRM was always explored in relation to that more contained and personal story of these two characters finding themselves and each other again.

At least in TOWL (I can’t really speak on any other spinoff show in the twdu since I don't watch them) we’re always seeing the CRM through the lens of how it impacts Rick and Michonne specifically. The CRM makes Rick lose himself, they make Michonne nearly lose her life when they gas her and her friends, they almost cause a major wedge in Richonne’s relationship and nearly keep them from going home together.

The CRM had done a lot of damage throughout the miniseries so it’s not like their impact isn’t felt, it's just not necessarily dived into on a grander scale outside of Rick and Michonne because this is Rick and Michonne’s story.

gif cred: @nat111love

This miniseries was always meant to give Richonne closure, not launch the next ten years of the twdu. So for me personally, I was more than fine with Richonne getting substantially more focus than the CRM stuff.

Also, one of the main things to acknowledge about the CRM is that it makes everyone lose themselves. All these soldiers become faceless cogs in the machine, devoid of caring about anything other than the mission.

We see this with Pearl becoming a convert and becoming so obsessively mission-minded. That’s what the CRM does to its soldiers - strips them of what makes them human, so they can just obediently go along with these heinous acts for the so-called greater good. So in a sense, the way the CRM felt faceless and distant might’ve been the point. That’s what you have to be to belong to this military.

And lifeless and distant is what the CRM nearly made Rick. However, what we saw in TOWL's actual core plot is that Rick did devastatingly lose himself but he found himself again when his other half reentered his life.

In fact, Rick is fully cognizant of the fact that his beloved wife and son are why he didn’t succumb to losing himself and being in the same emotionally numb state that Beale, Okafor, Jadis, and Pearl ended up in.

And in his final confrontation with Beale, Rick makes it known the ones who truly give him something to live for. 😌👌🏽

[lovelettersforthedamned]

tasm!peter finds your love letter to him that you never gave him because you are too embarrassed to show him

Big Words On A Little Page

--genre: FLUFF, SO MUCH FLUFF.

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x gn!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--warnings: some smooching, fluff, a little bit of anxiety coming from the reader, if you don't like a healthy loving relationship then you'll hate this.

i love this, wait...

--gif credits: @ddlovatosrps

Love came easy for you, but expressing it took time. Peter knew that putting your feelings into words wasn’t straightforward, and he knew that it would take time for you to be completely comfortable with him. So for you, he waited. 

If you asked Peter, he would have no complaints. Peter knew you loved him with every bone in your body, so why do you still feel like you’re not putting in your part? 

Sure, you couldn’t verbally express your feelings for him, but you can write them down. 

While Peter was out protecting the city, you pulled out a piece of lined paper and a red. Once you sat there and started writing, it was hard to stop. You ended up writing two full pages, the words on the paper full of adoration and love for your beloved boyfriend. You didn’t even read what you wrote, you folded the paper and set it in your bedside table’s drawer, hidden and safe. 

Once you put the letters in the drawer, you forgot about them. Life got busy, and two pieces of paper were the last thing on your mind. “Pete? Can you get my chapstick, the peppermint one,” you yell out from the couch, the book in your hand too riveting for you to get up. 

Peter walks past you and heads towards your shared bedroom, and after rummaging through some drawers, he finds himself stumped on where it was, “I can’t find it, bug!”

Without a second thought, you yell back, “It’s in my bedside drawer!”

Pulling open the drawer, Peter finally lays his eyes on the god-forsaken peppermint chapstick he’s been searching for, along with a folded piece of paper with red ink bleeding through its fibers. This seems to catch his eye, especially the top of it, reading ‘Dear Peter,’. A part of him felt guilty as he grabbed it and opened it up, but it was addressed to him, right? 

His eyes scanned through your writing, his eyes welling up with tears the farther he read. He couldn’t deny that a big stupid smile was spread across his face, and a warm blush fluttered onto his cheeks. 

Finishing the letter, he’s speechless, and he couldn’t be more overwhelmed with love. Walking back out to you in the living room, he finds you still nose-deep in your book, still unaware of his presence. Moving to stand directly next to you, you finally see him in the corner of your eye, “Thank you so much babe, you will not believe what happened in this book–.” As you give him your full attention, your eyes dart between his face and the papers in his hand. “Peter, I was going to give you those I promise–,” your sentence was cut short by his lips meeting yours. The warmth of his cheeks radiated onto yours, inviting you to stay here a while. 

Eventually, you both have run out of breath prompting you to pull away, breathless. Peter holds your face in his hands and looks directly into your eyes, the honey brown of his irises putting you in a trance. Although there was silence, you could tell that Peter had something on his mind, giving him time to speak. Reaching up to hold the back of one of his hands, you rub your thumb against the skin there. 

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I’m sorry I read this without asking first, but fuck, I’m so glad I did,” his eyes still not breaking contact with yours. 

All you could do was smile, you were afraid that tears would fall if you spoke. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and Peter could feel it, “You’re stuck with me for as long as you’ll have me, and if this is the last time I receive a love letter from you, I’d die a happy man. As long as you’re here with me, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, bug.”

A sudden urge of desperation for his touch overwhelmed your senses. Dropping your book, you wrap both of your arms around his neck and pull him onto the couch, nestling your face into the nape of his neck. You two stay there for a while, the sunlight slowly receding as you squeeze Peter a little tighter, grateful for a man who loves you with everything he has. Even if you can’t verbally show it. 

--author's note: HELLOOOO!! sorry guys for the inactivity recently, i was so dead sick two days before christmas, and then christmas happened, and now im back. to those who celebrate, i hope you all had a merry christmas!! nonnie, thank you so much for the ask!! THIS IS A REMINDER THAT YOU CAN STILL SEND IN REGULAR ASKS BAES!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support this blog. ok, ily bye<3333

[whxre-bxby]

Miles, Mansk, Lyle - meeting and pregnancy headcanons

Requested by anonymous

(omg all 3 of them in one shot) ... (the gif)

Sup bitches, here we go again with our 3 big boy hotties. I have 7 assignments due tomorrow and my nose is bleeding, but let’s do this. 

ALSO TYSM FOR 300 FOLLOWERS! I posted my first Quaritch smut on the 18th of January and I had like 20 followers. IT HASN’T EVEN BEEN A MONTH AND I AM AT 300?! WHAT? You’re all angels, thank you so much. I love providing you guys with filth and imagines ad I plan on continuing to do so in the future <3

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy (if that’s a warning), hinting to smut (nothing explicit) maybe some bad language

Characters are all recom and Na’vi! Y/n is recom-Na’vi too. 

Word count: 4752

Miles:

Before both of you woke up in your new bodies, you worked closely with Miles as a human. You were a pilot and a part of his squad. Nothing romantic happened before, other than teasing and flirtatious comments. But back then, you thought it was just who he was. 

When you woke up, he was there by the side of your table, helping you sit upright and keep balance while the people ran a few reflex tests on your new body. 

The teasing escalated to a type of sexual tension between both of you, to the point where neither of you could be in the same room without feeling excited and attracted to the other. 

One day, Miles decided to deal with the feelings because he was sure you felt the same. He visited your room and boldly asked you out as if it were a completely normal day-to-day thing. You on the other hand were freaking out and almost jumped into his arms.

What I didn’t know was that he had spent the last hour or two trying to figure out a good way to ask you out and make it seem effortless. The man was nervous to blow his shot with you because he realised that he became really attached to you. The realisation hit him when you and the team went on a mission and were attacked by a few predatory animals. One jumped at you and you hurt your arm.

Miles saw what happened and absolutely lost it. He was ready to kill anything that got close to you and managed to fight off the pack of creatures alone. The recom-team was too shocked by his sudden outburst to interfere. 

From then on, he demands you walk right next to him. 

After that incident, he knew it was getting obvious and out of hand, so as I said, he asked you out. 

It wasn’t like a “Hey, I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me sometime.”

He knocked on the door, hands resting on his belt, pretending not to be fazed by seeing you in pyjamas. He didn’t even greet me. 

“I’ll cut straight to the chase Y/N. I know you want me, cupcake, so let’s do something about it.” he said, walking towards me so that he backed me up away from the door and thereby entered my room. 

We can all imagine what happened after that. Anyway, so after a few mind-blowingly good hookup sessions, I was the first to confess that I had feelings for him. That I wanted to have more with Quaritch than just sex. He was shocked and it made me think he didn’t agree with that, but he was overjoyed with what I had said and the love confessions led to more sex. This time though, to prove our love for each other, we connected our tsaheylu’s and bonded for the first time.

Quaritch and I were then officially dating and I became pregnant after that night. 

I didn’t know whether that’s what he wanted, but biologically, that is the product of mating. So he should probably already know. 

Anyway, I told Miles I was pregnant and the man immediately got soft. Like I mean his eyes sparkled, his ears perked up and then drooped to the sides and his tail stilled. 

I could have sworn I saw a few tears form in his eyes. Miles would stand up and embrace you, holding you close to him while telling you how happy he was and how much he loved you. Of course, he would then hold your tummy, even if there was no visible bump yet. It amazed him that his child was growing in there. 

From then on, he would become even more protective of you. No more dangerous missions or physically exhausting exercises. 

He would bring you things, even if they were something tiny you missed. He would make your comfort and needs his number one priority. 

If you craved some food, he would fetch it. Miles even started to cook for you, wearing an apron and cooking meals in pans and pots. He looked like a real male wife and it made you love him so much more. 

Once the bump started growing he would caress and hold it every night. Carefully he would lean his ear against it until one day he could finally hear the baby’s heartbeat. 

He wouldn’t leave you alone and when he would, he would supply you with everything you could possibly need beforehand. Luckily, it never got annoying.

Being close to labour, Miles would only let particular people close to you. His recom team was fine. Sometimes he would make sure one of them looks out for you while he would go deal with work. 

You knew the team from work anyway so having either Z-Dog or Lyle, etc. look after you and spend time with you wasn’t new. 

They just had to make sure no people or random workers from the General would be around you. They stressed him out which made him think they would do the same with you. 

When you went into labour, Z-Dog was with you. She ran from your room to the meeting Miles was in. Once he heard, he got up and sprinted to your room without a second thought. He got the medical team together and didn’t leave your side as they rolled you into your prepared labour room. 

A few hours of pain, pushing and contractions went by and Miles was stressed out. But most of all he was worried. 

He didn’t want anything more at that moment than for you and the baby to be okay. It had haunted him that your life could be in danger during birth. The life of your baby too. 

He would comfort you and hold you, doing breathing exercises and all to help you deal with the pain. 

Once you started to give birth he was cradling your head, holding your upper body while you dug your fingertips into the skin of his arm, screaming. 

He hated seeing you in this pained state and needed to hold you close to make sure you were still with him. He had his eyes screwed shut and waited for any sign that this whole thing was over. 

The second he heard the cries of your baby he froze. Miles felt your body relax into his and he opened his eyes, making sure you were present and stable before turning to see one of the nurses holding the baby. It too was alive and breathing and the man just broke down. 

He was so thankful to have you by his side and he couldn’t believe the pain you had just fought through. 

The baby was handed to you and he leaned down, cradling both of you. 

He was crying at the realisation that he had a family now and he could have sworn that he was the happiest man alive. 

Mansk:

Mansk was working alongside you since you were both people but back then, you never acknowledged each other. You didn’t remember his face or know his name and vice versa. While both of you were loyal soldiers to Miles, you worked in different areas. 

When you woke up in your Na’vi body, he wasn’t there. He was already taken care of and dealing with Lyle. 

Z-Dog and the Colonel had helped you up. Once everyone was stable and awake, Quaritch ordered a gathering at dinner. 

Zdinarsk shared a room with you and you were given your usual cammies and some tops that basically looked just like sports bras. She found an old shirt which covered more and refused to let me have it. When we were in underwear and changing we spent at least 10 minutes in front of the mirror together, just pointing out to each other what has changed and what was weird.

Then we left for the dining hall and most of the team was already there. When we walked in Miles greeted us with an “Evenin’ ladies.” and a smirk. 

“You don’t have any clothes Y/N?” Lyle teased and I flipped him off, sitting down next to a chuckling Z-Dog. 

“You call that a shirt, Lyle?” I respond, gesturing to his tight, thin tank top. He scoffs, smiling before we direct our attention back to the Colonel. 

Mansk was sitting next to Lyle. When you walked in it was almost like Cupid’s arrow had struck him straight in the chest. He knew most of the team but he can’t recall ever seeing you. He recognised Z-Dog but he knew you weren’t Walker. As I walked past him, his gaze followed me and examined me from head to toe. 

Mansk was someone who would accidentally develop feelings. He was never a relationship type of person but when it happened, he didn’t know how to deal with it. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, he tried ignoring the feelings that were developing for you. 

But when the Colonel assigned you both as partners, he knew he was screwed. At that time, I had noticed Mansk too. He caught my eye because he would almost always wear his shades but when he didn’t I thought he looked quite cute. Then eventually came the time when I started to even like the sunglasses on him until I realised that maybe I just liked him. 

As partners, he would help with things. At first, we didn’t exchange too many words but then we warmed up to each other. If I was stuck with something like reloading a weapon I’d never seen before, he would help me. 

We had to practice training exercises with our partners at one point. That included learning how to handle the new equipment and weapons. 

There was one that you would need to strap to your arm and waist. I never used it like that, so when Mansk brought it over to me I just stared at it cluelessly. He chuckled softly. I loved it when he did that. 

Mansk knew how to handle all of these things. 

“Here, let me help you.” he said, placing it on my outstretched arm. His hands closed the straps around my arm and then he moved behind me, taking the straps that were meant to go around my waist between his fingertips. I pretended to examine the new weapon while really I was paying full attention to him. I felt his breath behind me and I waited for him to close the straps. 

He did it gently, making sure it wasn’t too tight. When his fingertips brushed up against the bare skin of my waist (because we had to wear training attire which was a little revealing), goosebumps rose on my skin. I hoped he wouldn’t notice. 

Then he returned and stood next to me again, letting his hand linger on my waist while he stretched his other one out to adjust mine into place. 

“Keep your arm stretched, then it’ll work.” he said, leaning closer to me. His face was really close to mine as he looked to see where I was pointing the weapon. 

His breath fanned over my shoulder and I let my eyes flutter closed, subconsciously exhaling the breath I seemed to hold in while he was behind me. When I opened my eyes I saw from the corner of my eye that he was no longer looking at where I am aiming but at me. 

He definitely saw my eyes close. 

Mansk felt the tension from the beginning and he was happy he was the one training with you. He noticed the goosebumps, the shivers and the heavy breaths. 

But he still wouldn’t dare make a move on you. You were too precious to him. He didn’t want to fuck up all the progress he has made with you. 

I turn my head and look him deep in the eyes. He stares back at me, his eyes slowly flicking from one of mine to the other. 

I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew he wasn’t the type of person to initiate things, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Mansk preferred to follow orders. 

“Kiss me…please.” I whisper, looking from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes to catch his reaction. 

The man’s heart skips a beat and you notice the way his listening ears perk up a little more at your words. His eyes go a little wider and seem to almost even brighten. 

Without hesitating, he pushes your arm down, grabs your jaw and pulls your face to his. He leans down a little to you and tightens the loose hand that kept resting on your waist. 

When you pull away he can’t stop himself from mumbling “You’re so pretty.” 

It drives you crazy and you go to lock the door. 

Within a few days after that, your relationship has been made official. Mansk and you are dating and have mated the way Na’vi would. Even though neither of you had any experience in this body, the connection made with the tsaheylu’s felt right. 

When he heard you were pregnant, he was delighted. Mansk lifted you from the ground, hugging you and spinning you both around. 

He became much more present and happy in general, to the point where the team would notice it too. 

He took care of you, bringing you things. 

When you would go on missions he would never leave your side and one day, you had a craving for food bars. He ordered the few soldiers that were with us to stop and started opening his backpack, presenting you with almost every flavour and even drinks. 

Mansk was prepared for everything. 

He would do tasks for you and he liked carrying you around, even when it wasn’t necessary. Sometimes, he would have both of you stand in front of the mirror and he would lift your baby bump for you. 

He loved to watch the way your face and entire body relaxed into him. It made him feel needed.

When you went into labour he was worried. His ears were constantly strained back and he would be moving out of the way constantly so that doctors could get to you. Seeing you in so much pain had him feeling very uneasy but when you asked him to hang around and hold your hand, he seemed relieved. You hadn’t forgotten him and you wanted him to be with you.

He was protecting the bed and you most of the time, making sure only the medics could see you. His hand would occasionally cup your face, just to keep you reminded of his presence and his want to keep you comfortable. 

Mansk fit really well into the role of being a partner and once he became a dad, he mastered that as well. While helping you take care of your child, he would never fail to ensure that you were doing well. Even after giving birth, he refused to not take care of you. Seeing you battle the pain like that amazed him and he felt bad that you were the only one experiencing it. So he would happily spend the next months after labour, making sure you could fall back into your previous good and active condition. 

Lyle Wainfleet:

You and Lyle had some history. As human soldiers, you got along well. You were both working the same job and always having little competitions about who could do something better to impress the Colonel. 

There came a time when you were stressed because while being a soldier, you helped out in the lab with Grace’s reports. You were in the now empty break room of Quaritch’s team and were having a crisis about work. Someone had accidentally mislabelled everything and now the whole experiment was a mess. 

Lyle had walked in on your study session and sat down right next to you. Of course, him being him, he couldn’t let you work in peace and quiet. 

He started teasing you, shuffling around your papers and taking your pen whenever you looked away. 

At first, you ignored it but Lyle didn’t give up, it seemed to just motivate him. He started to tease and provoke you even more, occasionally adding in a flirtatious remark.

For example “The papers should be burning with how hot you look right now.”, or

“Put the pen down, baby. I know a place more useful for your pretty lil’ hands.” 

Lyle is resting his chin on his hand, not taking his eyes off of you. He needs any reaction. Whether it’s you turning red or just telling him off, he needs something, otherwise, he won’t stop. 

After being ignored again, he starts to get handsy. Lyle is telling himself he’s doing this just to annoy you, but he also happens to like your company and does find you incredibly hot. 

He starts nudging your legs with his knee or touching your fingers etc. Little does he know the frustration inside you has been building up over the past hour and with his presence, you lose it. 

When his hand reaches out to your face and throw your pen down and snap. You scream at him, telling him off and cursing in every way possible. 

Lyle almost immediately retracts his hand back to safety and even flinches when you raise your voice. 

When you finish calling him about every insult you could think of, you see him just grinning at you and it makes you even more frustrated. 

“Wow. That was so hot.” he says, the grin staying plastered on his face. My mouth falls open in disbelief. I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I let my face drop into my open palms and let out a whine followed by a deep sigh. 

“Do you know what you need right now”? He asks and I know he is about to hand me some dirty idea as an answer. 

I was right. “You need some expert stress relief.” he chuckles, motioning to him. 

I look up at him, having given up on fighting his annoyance. 

“Stress relief?” I ask, clearly not impressed. 

“Yeah. I can make you feel good, baby.” he says, moving closer, still teasing. He expected you to flip him off or tell him how gross he was so he could continue with his shit. But while he watched you, he noticed your eyes grow a little wider. You didn’t look like you were about to yell at him again. 

He stayed quiet, trying to analyse your face. You looked almost interested in his offer. Lyle was speechless. He wasn’t expecting this but fuck, he was more than happy to give it to you. 

“Are you joking?” you ask, wanting to make sure he isn’t messing with you. 

He thinks about his answer, not wanting you to feel discouraged. “Not if you don’t want me to be.” 

I keep staring at him and he notices how flushed my face looks. That’s all the persuasion he needs before Lyle stands up. 

“Let me take care of you, baby.” he says, towering over you and cupping your cheek. When you nod, he pulls you up on your feet and leads the way to his room, which is closer than yours. On the way, you tease him about him calling himself an ‘expert’ to which he tells you to shut up and let him convince you. 

Let’s just say, he does indeed convince you. 

After that night, you two have a friends-with-benefits arrangement going. 

After the battle on Pandora, both of you majestically die. You watch Lyle get crushed by one of the big heavy creatures, which distracts you enough with shock and grief to not pay attention to a bow flying to you. 

When you wake up in recom, Lyle is next to your bed. He’s keeping a safe distance and rubbing his head while the Colonel is examining his fangs. 

“Welcome back, Buttercup.” he says, smirking. He helps me with the wake-up procedure so that I don’t get scared and understand everything. 

Lyle and I seemed to kick off right where we ended. It was almost as if nothing had happened, except for one thing, other than us being blue. He was more caring. Before, he would tease and occasionally make jokes that ended up being a little hurtful, but he never noticed. 

Now, he wasn’t doing that anymore. We would still joke, but he made sure to leave me out of it. 

After a very physically exhausting training session the Colonel had you all do, you were finally dismissed and you headed for the showers. 

Just as you were about to walk out of the shower, you bumped into Lyle who had apparently been waiting for you. 

He wanted to go in next and when he saw you leave he smirked. 

“Hey, so how we feelin’ ‘bout our little arrangement?” he asked, presenting his typical cocky character. Seeing your moist skin on your arms and neck and your damp hair had his mind going places. You were wearing your sleeping shirt and shorts but he still looked at you as if you weren’t. 

I had wondered about that too. 

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “You still wanna do it?” I ask him all innocent. I know what it does to him. It makes the man weak in the knees. 

“Do I want to?” he asks, sarcastically. “Babygirl, I think I’m gonna need you after seein’ you like this.” he smirks, taking a small strand of wet hair and tucking it behind your ear. 

Lyle had never done anything like that. Yeah, we’ve hooked up. The usual thing was him slapping my ass as he walks by or perhaps even resting his hand on my waist. But that was it. This here, that shit made me blush. It made my stomach erupt in excitement and not just for what was to come after he showered. 

I smiled, walking away to my room. “Come in whenever you’re ready.” I say over my shoulder. 

About half an hour later, I heard a knock on my door. When I open it I see Lyle outside, as expected. Only this time, his skin is damp too. And he isn’t wearing a shirt. Of course, why wear one if you’re about to take it off anyway?

He smirks and mentally pats himself on the back for choosing to not put it on when he sees how you struggle to take your eyes off his torso. 

“All yours, baby.” he said, slowly backing you up into your room and closing the door behind him. 

“I’m all yours and you’re all mine.” he said in a softer voice, placing his things down on your small table and slowly making his way to where you were standing. 

It seemed to hit him only then. You standing in front of him, still clothed but looking as beautiful as ever. The fact that both of you were Na’vi didn’t bother you. It was still Y/N and Lyle.

The way your big eyes looked up at him. It was almost loving and he sensed adoration more than arousal. 

A wave of happiness flowed through Lyle. Maybe you liked him more than just a fuck-friend too. 

Lyle was nervous as shit while taking his shower. He washed everywhere and kept looking in the mirror, wondering whether he even had a shot. You seemed keen on wanting to continue the arrangement but he started to feel more emotionally connected to you, not just physically. 

He stood in front of you now, gazing into your big curious eyes and losing himself in them. The silence was comfortable and he started to wonder how he could go about doing day-to-day activities without noticing or admiring you as a person. 

“Lyle…” you whispered out. But it wasn’t the needy voice he would have expected to hear. It was your real one. You were fully aware of this situation and not distracted by excitement. It made his heart skip a beat again. 

Lyle slowly leaned down to you, not even thinking about his actions. 

When your lips pressed against his, all questions were answered. You have never kissed properly before. Only during sex. This kiss meant more. 

When pulling away, you couldn’t stop yourself from mumbling. “I think I love you, Lyle” 

He froze and repeated your words in his head over and over again, staring at you in disbelief. God, did he love you even more now. 

You couldn’t get enough of him and connected your lips to his again. This time, he held you close to him. You wrapped your tails around each other and embraced the other as if they were all that mattered. In that moment, they were all that mattered. 

After pulling away again, Lyle said “Let me make love to you, Y/N. Let me show you how much you mean to me.” 

And once again, he proved to you that he stuck by his words. Instead of just fucking, you did make love. You mated, using your tsaheylu’s and everything. 

A week after your night, you discovered you were pregnant. Neither of you thought about the consequences of your actions so it shouldn’t have been a surprise but it was. The pregnancy was unplanned but when you told Lyle, he looked like he had been waiting for that news for months. 

He was the happiest person on the planet in that moment. You both sat down together to talk about your relationship and how you would deal with a child if you decided to keep it. Well, if they even did abortions on Avatars. 

You decided to have a child and Lyle had left to tell all his friends on his team. He was very bad at containing his excitement. 

During the pregnancy, Lyle was already like a mother. He brought you anything, like literally anything. 

You forgot your hair tie on the other side of the lab? He would go fetch it, even if you had many more around. 

Any food cravings you had, you got them served. Lyle couldn’t cook. He was shit at it and something always burned but he had your heart because he tried really hard. 

He would leave you little love letters and notes on the nightstand or in your bag if he wouldn’t be seeing you for a while. But when he gets back, he makes up for the lost time with lots of snuggles. 

Lyle treats you like a princess, no kidding. 

When your baby bump grew, the man couldn’t stop himself from drawing a face on it. 

During labour, he was out of it. Seeing you in so much pain had him freaked out. He was worried sick. Like, he genuinely felt sick. What if you wouldn’t be okay after this? What if the baby wasn’t okay? So much was going through his head and he felt so useless because all he could do was stand and watch while the love of his life seemed to be fighting for her life. 

While giving birth, he was holding your hands, demonstrating how to breathe in and out deeply to calm yourself down. He did everything he could and once the baby was born, he could have collapsed into the hospital bed next to you. He didn’t of course, he needed to be with you and the baby. 

It still amazed him that you had brought new life to the planet and had created a family with him. 

He’ll be the most amazing partner and dad you could wish for. Always helping you out and is ready to risk it all for those he loves.

[charliedawn]

How would they react if you asked them to finish you off ?

WARNING : HEAVY ANGST. PROTAGONIST DEATH. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. The gifs were made by @crumb.

One of the tourists shot you and it resulted in an infection. The infection spread until the pain was too much—it was making you scream at night. You wouldn't make it. You were dying, and the four of you knew it.

So, you asked one of the brothers to finish you.

Bo Sinclair :

Bo blinked twice in astonishment when you asked him.

"Ya can't ask me this, darlin'. Please.", he pleaded and tried to tell you that everything would be fine. He was good at that. He was good at lying. It was his thing after all.

But, not this time. You were tired.

"Bo...Please. It's over. We both know it.", you told him with tears in your eyes and took his hand. "Don't let Vince or Lessy see me like this."

Bo shook his head and tried to protest—but he knew it was pointless.

He looked at the way your fingers were clawing at the sheets and the way your eyes seemed dull.

You were already gone, weren't you ?

"A'right, darlin'.", he finally complied and went out to search for his shotgun.

When he came back, his eyes softened and he kissed your forehead lovingly.

"I don't wanna let ya go...", he confessed and you smiled back through your tears.

"I know."

Bam.

One bullet and you were gone.

Bo didn't pull the trigger. You did.

He fell to the floor and started sobbing like a child. He hadn't cried once since the day he was born.

His chest felt on fire and no matter how much he tried—his screams stayed chocked-out. It wasn't pretty. He was never pretty when crying.

"Goodbye, darlin'.", he finally succeeded in breathing out—his hand still holding yours.

Vincent Sinclair :

Vince took care of you from day one.

He could have never imagined a tourist to make such a mistake.

You were the one who had told him not to turn him into a wax statue in the first place. And now, he was the reason you were dying. He should have killed that tourist.

He stayed by your bedside—even when he knew there was nothing to be done.

He held you hand and let you see his face.

"...You're beautiful.", you uttered tenderly before stroking the damaged part of his face with a smile.

He held your hand pressed against his and started crying. But, his relief was short-lived as he heard your next words that left him cold.

"...Vince. It's time to say goodbye.", you said with tears in your eyes and Vincent's hold on you tightened.

He didn't want to let you go.

"Just...promise me you'll make me beautiful too.", you whispered.

He didn't understand what you meant until you smiled and activated the mechanism that let hot wax drop on you. This way, he would be able to make you a part of Ambrose and his beloved museum.

He screamed and tried to stop the machine—but it was too late.

You were gone—and only your wax-covered body remained.

But, he then noticed the smile on your face.

He quickly wiped his tears and put himself to work. He had to shape you as he had promised you. He'd make you the most beautiful piece of work he ever created.

Lester Sinclair :

Lester remembered the first time he drove you to Ambrose.

You had such a bright smile on. Now, your smile was gone—extinguished by the pain you felt.

"Lessy...Please.", you indirectly pleaded and Lester pressed his forehead against the back of your hand.

He knew what you were begging for. He could see it in your eyes.

He wanted to protest, but didn't want the last memory he had of the two of you to be arguing and rage at something he couldn't control.

Instead, he wordlessly took the sharpest knife he owned and made sure the pain was kept to a minimum as he stabbed you at the back of the neck. A swift and merciful death.

Lester didn't talk about it to Vince or Bo until it was over.

"It's done." He then threw the bloody knife on the table and the Sinclair twins seemed surprised.

"Lessy...Are you al—?", Bo started—but was cut off.

"I'm fine." He was about to turn around and leave—but couldn't make it to the door.

He collapsed and both Bo and Vince rushed to his aid.

Bo *tries to soothe him* : " Ssh...It's gonna be a'right, lil' bro. Ssh..."

Vince *holding him tight and rocking him back and forth*

"I killed 'em ! I loved 'em and fuckin' killed 'em !", Lester cried into their arms and both twins looked at each other.

They were used to it, but Lester had always insisted on staying away from Ambrose when they killed. He was only to bring the victims in.

He was too sweet for that kind of stuff. Too kind. And it made them feel as if he had to be protected.

But then, you had arrived. And Lester had gotten attached to you and they knew it wouldn't end well...But, they had stayed away. Because their lil' bro seemed happy.

Bo and Vincent *wordlessly hugging him together*

They wouldn't make the mistake again...

[darklydeliciousdesires]

The Art of Pleasure, Part Two - A Dom!John Shelby/Reader Story.

Part two is here, besties! Enjoy :)

(GIF credit - @markshade)

Words - 2,216

Warnings - Dom/sub dynamic, smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Part One

Shibari. It wasn’t a word you were immediately familiar with when you first met John. Not until he explained to you that it was very much one of his kinks, detailing everything it entailed. Now, to be bound by him is an illimitable thrill in itself, the intricate process, the time it takes for his long, dextrous fingers to weave the ropes and knot them expertly.  

The heat of his hands upon your skin is radiating, anticipation coiling low as each knot is so skilfully tightened, those knotted chains that lead from your ankles to your hips crafted in the black nylon, each ankle then bound to the bottom of the iron bedframe. He then uses the longer of the ropes to bind you into a chest harness, looping them over behind your back and leading down your arms to fasten your wrists to the bed, leaving you utterly at his mercy.  

Not that you’d want to be anything but.  

Reaching past your head, he grasps a pillow, sliding it beneath your hips before kneeling before you, fixing you with a look of dark, smouldering lust, running a hand up and down his fully hardened cock. It’s a sight that has fire licking at your insides, John bringing his thumb to circle over your clit. “Do you want it, kitten?”  

“Yes.” 

He leans to you, teasing your cunt with the promise of entrance. “Yes...” 

“Yes, sir.” 

One swift arrowing splits you wide, your mouth dropping open, a soft cry muted by his mouth upon yours. “That’s my good little kitten.” Bottoming out, he draws back slowly, sitting up, watching the way you shake as he roots himself once more before slipping from you entirely.

You whimper, and he smirks at you. “Oh, little baby. Don’t like that, do you? Don’t like being teased, eh?” 

“Please,” you plead in whisper, your breath hitching, “please don’t tease me, sir.” 

“Why shouldn’t I?” he asks, leaning to kiss your neck, his fingertips circling your nipples as the head of his hardness skims your slit. “Is it because this pretty little cunt is so sex starved, its nothing but desperate for my cock, hmm?” 

“Yes, it is,” you pant, biting your lip. 

His face darkens in an instant, a little lick of trepidation tugging at your gut. “But that ain’t true, is it? Nah, kitten, not when you get it every night. You’re just being greedy. A greedy, cock hungry little whore, ain’t ya?”  

“No, I’m not,” you whine in indignance, pouting at him. “I just really, really want you!” 

He raises his eyebrows, hand moving to grasp your jaw. “Sounds like you’re daring to get bratty with me.” You nearly burst into tears as he pushes the head of his cock against your clit, the pleasure skittering through you like a firework, your need spiralling. “You know I don’t tolerate you being a brat.”  

“But I’m not,” you sob, eyes pleasing with him for any hint of mercy he might possess. “I need you. Please, please, sir. Please fuck me. Please ruin you with your fuck.”  

Your words send a jolt through him, sharp-edged as it skitters over his nerves. “Is that begging I hear?” 

With your chest heaving, your muscles cording beneath the constriction of the ropes binding you fast beneath him, you virtually growl from the ache of arousal stinging aggressively throughout your core. “It is, I’m begging you. I need you, I need you so badly!” 

He chuckles, a deep rumble all smoke and sin as he lays kisses to the column of your throat, tongue skimming, teeth gently nipping. “Are you a brat?” 

“No.” 

“Are you a cock hungry little whore?” 

“Yes!” 

The head of his erection slips down, barely breaching your opening. “Is this what you need?”  

You nod, his grip on your jaw tightening before it slips, sliding over your neck, down to your chest harness, fingers coiling in grip around the rope. He pulls you up off the bed, kissing you softly. “I think that deserves a reward.” Your moan is almost strangulated in sound as he finally slides back within you, your body humming with gratification edged in trepidation, scared he’ll deny you again, gripping your walls around him tightly in some attempt to keep him there within you.  

You should have known, though, that you wouldn’t get away with it.  

His hand meets your cheek in a little slap of reprimand. “Stop it. That’s being greedy, kitten.” His hand clenches upon your jaw, feeding you his thumb to suck. “Don’t be a brat.” Raising his eyebrows, you cave to his ascendancy, releasing your slick grip on his cock, feeling him begin to move once more. Pushing against him so you physically can’t clench, he has to fight to stay inside you, your slick plush bearing down on him, his groan barbarous, thumb pushing a little harder into your mouth.   

The ropes binding you to the bed creak as you pull against them, your limbs light, your brain feeling soaked in liquid ecstasy as each knot digs in against your flesh, the tilt of your hips from the pillow beneath you facilitating the hard press of his cock against every sweet spot within. It’s bouncing over your muscles like a hail of embers, your body beaded with sweat as you suck upon his thumb with a helpless moan. 

The pleasure he inflicts burns like fireworks shooting beneath your skin, his eyes never leaving yours as his hips begin to piston against you, fat cock dragging your tender walls. His hand slips to your neck, closing around your throat, your breath cut off. It’s scary, yet exhilarating, your chest tightening, vision swimming, your eyes closing only to be jolted back with another slap to your cheek. “Eyes on me, kitten. Don’t look away,”   

Your face is contorted into desperation, a little ripple of fear making your heart jolt, the humidity rising like a lightning bolt bouncing, fucked raw until the release of his grasp grants you the inhale your body has craved, your heart thundering and the nirvana of your undoing surging as you gasp for air. He sees it in your eyes, the little flickers of fear swimming in potent swirls with the delight, showing you tenderness as he leans in close, nose nuzzling yours. “You’re my good girl, and I love you.”   

He always knows when he’s pushed you to the point of needing him to relent a little, open a connection of softness when all he’s shown has been unrelenting dominance. He understands the balance perfectly. Especially when he’s made you come undone for him so hard and so soon, too.  

Kissing you, his hand once again closes on your throat, but this time with a gentler squeeze, continuing to roll his tongue sensuously with yours as he slows within you, cock dragging your walls in a way that sends glimmers skittering through you, everything oversensitive and tender for a few moments before the synapses start to twitch once more. 

You feel lightheaded, the coil within you tightening, a blaze of pure bliss beginning to burn, evoked my every single deep, hard thrust. Your cunt glazes his thick shaft as he gives himself completely, letting go of his hold on your neck. You know, though, no matter that he relented a fraction, he isn’t done making you obey.  

It’s never that simple with John.  

In fact, just because he’s made you come once, it does not mean any orgasm thereafter will be granted quite so easily. He thrives on edging you to borders of insanity, after all. He demonstrates this after moving beneath you, cock rooted deep within the soaking mess of your cunt, one hand grasped tight upon your thigh bindings, the other using your wand vibrator to buzz a flurry of bliss at your clit.  

He’s heavy within you, each rolling thrust fracturing little storms beneath your skin, swirling tempests that whirl up your spine. His teeth gently nibble at the side of your neck as your muscles twitch and your mouth hangs agape, the storm surging as you feel your body shudder, a forest fire roaring.  

He feels it too, though. “No, kitten. You don’t get to come again yet.” The whine falls from your lips before you can think better of it, John moving the wand away, smacking at your puffy little sex with a hard slap. “Stop being a brat, or I’ll make it worse. Do you understand?”  

“Yes.” 

Another slap has you clenching on his slowly trawling cock. Immediately, he stills and slips from you. “Yes, who?” 

“Yes, sir.”  

The emptiness is agonising as your flutter around nothing, your hot little hole pulsing with the need to be filled again, his breath hot at your neck as he bites you softly. His groan is all grit and salt as he glides back you, arrowing you slowly, a bonfire of sin roaring through your veins. Once again, the vibrations are returned to you, tight circles drawn over your bundle, the punch of his cock gaining speed until he’s like a jackhammer beneath you, your cries filling the room. As soon as he feels you gripping on him, though...  

“Do you give in?”  

Your safe word is on the very tip of your tongue, but you want to continue, want to be pushed further into sublime dizziness. On he continues, building you up and up once more, only to withdraw the contact again, your teeth gritted as you growl with frustration, your body stiffening against the bed of taut muscles beneath you.  

Moving his hand from the bindings upon your leg, he grips your neck, applying the kind of pressure that brings you the heaven of lightheaded abandon, your vision swimming a little as the fire begins to crackle deep. Your ascension is stilled again, his hand loosening, bringing you back from boiling, only to drive you there once more.  

Tears roll down your face with the need he’s building within you, shaking violently, John concentrating hard on the balance he knows all too well can’t be neglected. “What’s your name?” 

You gasp and pant, delivering it through clenched teeth. 

“What’s your safe word?” 

“Gangster.” Because of course, it is. It's what he is, after all.

“Do you need to use it, kitten?” 

“I don’t.” 

“Sure?” 

“I am.” you nod, feeling him press burning kisses to the side of your throat, the wand returned to you as his cock sinks back to fill you deeply.  

“Good girl.” 

That’s the thing about a good dom, they always check in with you to ensure you aren’t being pushed too far by what they’re inflicting. It’s why you will never have anything but one hundred percent trust in John, because he’s more proficient at this than anyone you’ve ever met.  

Whether it’s driven by his own need from holding back, or a mercy taken upon your quivering, overstimulated body, when he feels you ascend this time, he finally lets you tip. He rucks into you so hard, the flint strikes of your pleasure roll through you unrelentingly, the surge of it gaining frighteningly powerful momentum. There it is, the very edge of heaven is finally within your sights. 

It streaks through you, tendrils of pleasure winding tight and creeping up your spine like vines, your cries loudening as he rails you with frenzied vigour. He’s completely unrelenting, clenching your neck tightly until it breaks over you and shines like the neon of a rainbow, every colour illuminating, his hand releasing its grip as the air rushes back into your starved lungs.   

You’re away from yourself, sailing through clouds of euphoria as he fills you with pulses of cum. Your eyes dance in flutter as you hear the wand turned off, John’s arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. “You took that very, very well, kitten.” You don’t immediately reply, still swimming through each little aftershock, feeling on the verge of passing out.  

He moves from beneath you, undoing each of your bindings rapidly, fingers unhooking each knot, hands lovingly rubbing the red marks left behind, the red prints that brand your skin with the art of his pleasure. Once untied, he lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist, being carried to the bathroom. You’re still all fuzzy and cock drunk as he turns on the shower, carrying you inside once the water has heated, holding you until your trembles subside and he feels confident he can place you onto your feet without your legs buckling.  

“Better?” he asks, hands stroking your back, nuzzling your nose with his. 

“I’m still dizzy, but it’s a good dizzy,” you confirm, John smiling as he laughs softly. 

“Good dizzy is preferable, my love. Can’t have you passing out on me, no matter how fucking good I am.” 

“Cocky twat,” you chirp, and he laughs, holding your face in his hands. 

“Ar, that’s me.” He then takes the soap and sponge, washing you attentively before standing there beneath the water, offering softly smouldering kisses. Once out, you’re bundled in towels, carried back to the bed and held beneath the covers in his arms, John whispering his love for you before you fall asleep against his chest.  

From the inflictions of his demands to the lovingly administered aftercare, the art of his pleasure is never anything short of a complete masterpiece.  

[babydollmarauders]

BACK TO DECEMBER — MARK ESTAPA

mark estapa x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n sees Mark for the first time since their breakup last december and struggles being around him while still being hopelessly in love.

warnings: just lots of angst. no happy ending.

notes: so many “specific lyrics” that i couldn’t even write them all, so this one is pretty much just the song as a whole.

another note: FIRST TIME WRITING FOR STOP SIGN! WHOOP WHOOP! i’m sorry for this.

not my gif

my heart aches, hand shaking as i pull open the door of the diner. stepping into the mostly empty restaurant, my eyes sweep the expanse of the eatery, in search of the boy i’m meeting. but showing up twenty minutes early has assured me that’s he’s yet to show.

putting my free time to use, i make my way to the restroom, pushing the door open and attempting a deep inhale as i stop in front of the mirror.

my eyes bore into the reflection in front of me, criticizing myself. my purple sundress feels too tight with my anxiety squeezing my diaphragm, making it hard for me to suck in a full breath.

i stare straight ahead, looking into my own eyes as i shake my arms out, trying to rid myself of any awkward feelings or stiffness.

“you can do this.” my whisper echoes off the tiled walls of the diner bathroom as a toilet flushes and a girl steps out of a stall.

i step out of her way as she walks over to a sink, washing her hands. she looks towards me as i attempt another deep breath.

“i don’t know what your doing, but i agree; you can do this.” she tells me, a small smile on her lips as she dries her hands with paper towel.

“oh- thank you.” i send a weak smile in return and she winks as she steps out of the bathroom and back into the seating area.

i follow her lead, fully planning on finding a table, but within two steps, my eyes land on the head of blond hair that i had been searching for when i first arrived.

he sits in a booth at the side of the diner, his back towards me, and i’m immediately transported back to that fateful night one year ago.

**DECEMBER 29TH. 1 YEAR AGO**

“Mark.” my voice cuts through the white noise of the radio and my boyfriend turns it off, silence falling over the car.

he turns his head to look at me, a grin on his lips, before turning back to look at the road.

“what’s up, babygirl?” my heart clenches at the pet name and my eyes drop to the red roses in my lap, my fingers pick lightly at the petals; not tearing them off, but fluffing them to make the flowers seem fuller.

“i-” my voice shakes and tears sting at my eyes as i gather my courage. “i think we should break up.”

Mark’s hand drops mine on the center console, our fingers unlacing as he puts the car into park as we pull up in front of my house.

“what?” he’s hurt, i can hear it in his tone, and it makes this all so much harder. i didn’t want to hurt him. “what are you talking about? is it the date? i thought you were having fun, but you could’ve told me if you didn’t wanna go bowling.”

“it’s not the bowling, Mark.” i throw my head back, staring up at the roof of the car to try and delay my tears.

“then what’s wrong? because i thought we were doing great!” his words are urgent, defensive. “we just started saying ‘i love you’ like two months ago, y/n. what could’ve changed in these past couple months?”

“i know! i just-” i’m cut off by Mark.

“at least look at me if you’re gonna break up with me.” i avert my gaze, finally looking towards him, but i regret it instantly. his eyes are red, i’m not the only one holding back tears.

“i just- i took my gap year, but i started school this semester and my sister’s gotten in my head that, ya know, college is about freedom and not being tied down. doing new things and figuring out who you are. and maybe she’s right.”

“so i’m tying you down?” his face contorts in offense as he shakes his head in disbelief. “i’m holding you back from feeling free?”

“no! i- that’s not what i meant!” i shake my head, letting out a sigh of frustration. i can’t seem to say the right words. “i’m just saying that i think i need to try being single in college, ya know? you got a whole year of that. you were single all of your freshman year. but this is my time to try that.”

i’ve said the wrong thing. i know it because i can see the walls building up behind his eyes. his face turns blank, stony as he just nods, turning to look back out the front windshield.

“right.” the one word is harsher than i ever though it could possibly be. “i think you should just go, y/n.”

“Mark, i wanna talk about this.” i plead as i unbuckle my seatbelt, turning fully in my seat to face him.

“i think we’ve talked enough. you wanna break up. it’s whatever, now i want you to get out of my car.” he tells me as he presses the unlock button, motioning his head towards my door.

i nod, opening the car door and stepping out into the cold, winter, Michigan air. i set the roses down on my seat, not wanting a reminder of this night, of this fight.

“goodbye.” i tell him, an icy tear rolling down my cheek as i shut the passenger door and step back. i walk up to my porch, listening to Mark’s engine start back up, gravel crunching as he peels out of my driveway.

i can’t help but turn and watch him leave, his car disappearing down the street.

**PRESENT DAY**

i steel myself, shaking my head to get rid of the awful memory before i walk over, stopping in front of the table.

Mark is sitting on his phone, typing out a text, but as he looks up at me, he locks it, placing it screen down on the table.

“hey.” he exhales, a small smile rests on his lips, confusing me but also relaxing me.

he doesn’t seem to be mad anymore.

“hi, Mark.” i smile back, already feeling so much more comfortable in his presence.

“uh, do you wanna sit?” he asks me, chuckling. i let a small huff of laughter out at my stupidity as i nod, taking a seat across from him.

“i’m so glad you made time to see me.” i confess, anxiously running my hands down the lap of my dress to smooth out any wrinkles.

“yeah, me too. i have to admit, i wasn’t sure about it at first. Ethan had to talk me into saying yes, but, now that i’m here, i’m glad i did.” he tells me, and any leftover anxious feelings disappear at his admission. we’re on the same page, happy to see each other.

a waitress comes to take our orders and just like he did all that time ago, Mark orders for me.

“i’ll have a BLT with extra bacon, and french fries with a coke. and she’ll have the strawberries and cream pancakes with turkey bacon on the side and a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream.” the waitress nods and gathers our menus before leaving to place our order.

“you remembered my order.” i laugh and he looks at me with the expression of a deer in headlights.

“oh, shit, i’m sorry. i hope that’s still you’re order. i guess it was subconscious, to order for you.” i lay a hand on his arm in reassurance.

“it’s okay. yeah, that’s still my order.” i tell him and he sighs in relief and nods.

“great.” i take my hand back and play with my fingers.

“so, how’s life?” i ask him. “tell me, how’s your family? i haven’t seen them in a while.”

“life’s good!” he smiles, nodding with a faraway look. “life’s really good. i’ve been good, but busy. we made it to the frozen four again last season. we didn’t win but, we made it, and that’s all that matters. and my family’s good! John and my parents are great.”

my smile falters at his answer. i didn’t want him to be miserable, of course not. but, i also didn’t expect him to be so happy without me in his life.

“that’s great. i’m really glad.” it’s the truth, of course i’m glad that he’s been good.

“what about you? how’s work? are you still running the media for your school’s baseball team?” the small talk continues.

“i’ve been okay. yeah, i’m still doing that. it’s been pretty good. stable, ya know?”

he nods in understanding and it’s quiet for a brief moment as we look out the diner window next to us. snow flurries down outside, thick clouds hanging in the sky.

“it’s really coming down hard out there. i’m glad we got in here before the storm started.” he chats.

“yeah, although the roads are definitely gonna be icy.” he nods at my words and i can tell by the meaningless small talk that his guard is up. i can’t blame him, the last time we saw each other was when i broke up with him, breaking both of our hearts in one night.

the conversation is tabled when our food arrives and we fall into silence as we eat, and out of a force of habit, i stick half of my turkey bacon on his plate.

halfway through our meal, it seems that Mark can no longer hold in his confusion.

“why did you ask me here?” i set my fork down at his question, preparing myself to bare my heart.

“i wanted to tell you i’m sorry for that night.” i admit. i play with my mug of hot cocoa out of nerves.

“why now?” he asks. “why a year later?”

“i haven’t been sleeping lately.” i tell him. “i’ve just been laying in bed playing back that night in my head. i have so many regrets, and my biggest one is not staying in the car with you.”

he draws in a deep breath, glancing at his phone before looking back up at me.

“ya know, i thought we could get past it? i thought it was just a bump in our relationship and you would realize that you made a mistake and everything would be okay.

“and then my birthday passed, and you never called. you didn’t even text. and that’s when i knew that you were serious. i realized that we were really broken up.”

his words bring tears to my eyes.

“i’m sorry.” my voice shakes. “i’m so sorry, Mark.”

“it’s okay, y/n.” he shakes his head. “i get it. you wanted a taste of the college freedom.”

i shake my head, a frown making itself apparent on my lips.

“it turns out freedom is nothing but missing you.” i confess. “i’ve been thinking about last summer a lot lately. when we would sneak away from our friends and go on those late night drives. i realized i liked you as more than a friend for the first time when i was watching you laugh on one of those drives.

“you were so carefree. you were the opposite of me. no worries, no stress. just living in the moment. and then we started dating and everything in the world felt… right. i felt safe with you. i felt at home. and then we both left for school and we were so far apart and i was so worried that you wouldn’t want me anymore. but then you were you. you called me every night and you sent me flowers and even from miles away, you made sure i wasn’t working myself too hard. and i fell in love with you that fall.”

i look down at my half full plate as he chews on his lip.

“but then i came home from winter break. and fear crept into my mind. my sister started telling me that you probably hated being tied down when you have so many girls that want you. she said i should be single in order to have the full college experience. she said i shouldn’t be pining over a guy that probably wished he didn’t have to call me after all of his games. that you probably hated having a girlfriend that you couldn’t even really be with. so i listened to her. i thought that she was older and wiser so she was probably right.”

i look back up at him as tears roll down my face. i held my tears in until i was out of his car last december, making this only the second time he’s ever actually seen me cry and his expression is filled with the exact same worry as it was the first time.

**SEPTEMBER 20TH, 2022**

i sit on Mark’s bed, watching as he folds clothes to put in his suitcase.

he’s leaving.

we both are.

i knew this day would come. that summer would end and we’d have to leave each other.

i knew it when we started this relationship three months ago. i just didn’t think it would hurt this bad.

my breath hitches as i watch him fold up my favorite shirt of his, sticking it in his suitcase, and i realize that for the next 3 months, i won’t see him wear it again. i won’t see him again.

“actually, babe, do you think i could keep that one?” i ask him, pulling the shirt out of the travel bag that rests beside me.

“what?” he laughs and i almost feel stupid for asking. “you wanna keep my shirt?”

“ya know what? yeah, it’s- it’s stupid. nevermind.” i place the shirt back in the suitcase, scrunching my nose up and subtly pinching my eyes closed in attempt to hold back my tears.

i look the opposite direction, blinking a few times to try to get rid of the salt water stinging my eyes.

“hey.” his voice is gentle, soft, as he crouches down to his knees in front of me. his hands rest gently on my thighs. “look at me, please.”

i gather my courage, averting my gaze to look into his eyes. his face is filled with worry, his eyebrows raised in concern. he crawls onto the bed, pulling me into his side as the tears escape my eyes.

“what’s wrong? hmm?” he caresses my cheek, tilting my head to look up at him.

“i’m gonna miss you.” i tell him. i bite my lip, holding back a sob.

“i’m gonna miss you more, sweet girl.” he whispers, planting a light kiss on the tip of my nose. “but these next few months are gonna fly by, and then we’ll see each other over winter break. and then spring break. and then finally, it’ll be summer again. and before you know it, you’ll be getting sick of me again.”

he brushes a tear away with his thumb.

“you’re gonna be telling me ‘gosh Mark, give me some space!’” he raises his pitch, mocking my voice and making me let out a watery giggle amongst my tears.

“i will not!” i smack his chest lightly.

“okay, yeah, maybe not. you’ll actually be all over me, and i’ll eat up every second of it.” he jokes.

“holding you.” he squeezes me tighter, pulling me into his lap.

“kissing you.” he cups my face, pulling my lips to his and laying a sweet kiss against them.

“touching you.” his hands slide down my body to rest on my hips.

“keep the shirt, baby.” he tells me before raising his eyebrows. “but i expect to see you wearing it on facetime. think you can do that?”

i giggle nodding my head. “yeah, i can do that.”

“good.” he reaches over, grabbing the shirt out of the suitcase. he hands it to me and i hug it to my chest. “you feeling better now, pretty girl?”

i nod, leaning forward to lay my head on his chest, and his arms snake around me, holding me to him.

“good. cause that was the first time i’ve seen you cry and i hated every second of it.”

**PRESENT DAY**

“y/n, your sister was wrong.” he tells me. his hand moves to lay atop of mine, rubbing it with his thumb to provide a sense of comfort for me as i wipe away my tears.

“i didn’t care that other girls wanted me, all i wanted was you. i loved calling you after games. i loved hearing you share in my excitement when we won, or giving me pep talks when we lost.

“did i love that i couldn’t be with you? no. but that didn’t mean i wanted to break up. i loved you.”

loved.

past tense.

my heart aches as i slide my hand out from under his, my stomach churning in discomfort.

his phone buzzes on the table and he glances at it once again before looking back at me.

“maybe this is wishful thinking; but if we loved again, i swear i’d love you right this time.” i sigh. “i just wanted you to know that. i miss you. i’m so happy you’re doing great, but i’m not. i miss your sweet smile. i miss how you looked at me like i was the only girl in the world. i miss loving you. i miss our late night talks when we should’ve been studying. i miss hearing about your games. i even miss hearing Ethan’s obnoxious teasing when we were talking way later than we should’ve been. i miss you, even as just a friend, like before we were dating. and i know it’s probably much too late, but i go back to December all the time and i just needed you to know that i’m so sorry for that night. and i’d go back in time and change it if i could, but i can’t.”

he sighs, licking his lips and looking down at his hands.

“y/n-” i cut him off.

“you don’t have to say anything, Mark. i just wanted you to know.” he nods but speaks anyways.

“i’m in a good place, y/n. i’m happy. i appreciate your apology, but it’s okay. it was probably for the best, anyways.” he shrugs.

for the best.

right.

“oh- okay.” tears escape my eyes, rolling down my cheeks again.

“i’m sorry that you’re not happy. i really am. and if there was anything else i could do to change that, i would. it hurts me to know that you’re hurting because you still hold a special place in my heart. you were my best friend for so long, and you were my first love.”

i nod in understanding, steeling myself and preparing for the meeting to end.

his phone buzzes once more and this time he picks it up. i watch his face as he looks at the notification, and my heart drops at his expression.

the way his eyes light up. the way the corners of his lips curl up just slightly, like he’s trying not to smile. the way the corners of his eyes crinkle.

i know that look.

it’s the same way that his friends said he looked at his phone when my contact would pop up.

he’s in love.

with someone who’s not me.

“who is she?” i can’t help but ask. i keep my tone light. not accusing, but genuinely curious.

he quickly puts his phone down, looking back at me with wide eyes.

“what?” he asks, feigning obliviousness.

“who is she? the girl on your phone.” i send him a watery smile, silently assuring him that it’s okay.

“her name is Anna.” he admits, his shoulders slumping in ease. “she’s my… girlfriend. we started dating in May, right before the summer. she works media for the team.”

i nod along as he speaks, a soft teary smile masking the fact that it feels like my heart is being ripped to shreds.

“i hope she makes you happy.” i tell him, and i mean it. i really want him happy. regardless of who’s causing it.

“she does.” he’s gentle with his words, obviously not wanting to hurt me. but he isn’t the one who hurt me, i did.

“did she come home with you?” i ask him, fearing that i already know the answer.

“yeah.” he tells me, biting his lip.

“go to her.” i whisper, mustering one more small smile.

“y/n, i-” he starts but i shake my head.

“go. it’s okay.” i assure him. “you heard what i wanted you to hear. now, go home to your girlfriend and your family. enjoy your break.”

he nods, fishing out his wallet and setting some cash on the table.

“it was really nice seeing you, y/n. maybe i’ll see you around.” he tells me, standing up and putting his coat back on before he braves the snowy night.

“yeah, maybe.” i smile up at him and he gives me one in return before walking away.

i look out the window beside the table as he walks out to his car. the same car that i broke both our hearts in. and i watch as he drives out of the parking lot. it reminds me eerily of that night last December.

i avert my gaze to the table top, spotting the cash he left. enough to cover both our meals. and i can’t help but cry.

i did this to myself. i let my fears get the best of me, and now he’s happy without me. and i’ll have to sit on the sidelines and watch as he spends his life with someone else. someone who can love him better than i could.

[ultralightpoe]

Final Girl Part 3 -Eddie Munson

Authors Note: I wrote this awhile back, clearing out my drafts. Hope you enjoy !

Word Count:4822

Warnings: stabbing, hints of smut but not really.

Part One Here...... Part Two Here

(Thank you for the gif @feodor-dostoevsky)

Enjoy!

There was nothing ‘cool’ or ‘awesome’ about the movie Slashed anymore.

In fact as Eddie Munson sat between Dustin and Lucas while the film played on the tv before them he could barely stop the anger that coursed under his veins at every turn. That was you. This entire time his crush on the actress that played k/y/n had been a knockoff version of you.

He watches with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth begin to ache as the main character screams while the masked killer begins fighting to open the car door. The actress crawls along the console to get to the other window, and this part she rolls the window down but only half way so she could climb out. Her panties flash and the killer sinks his knife into the meat of her thighs. 

Eddie’s mind flares, the memory of the scar on your leg the day he brought you dinner, right fucking there. It had looked like a knife had slashed its way down your thigh and the scar itself was still brash against your skin. Bumpy and noticeable. And though he never thought anything bad of it before right now he hated the scar. He hated how you managed to get it and he hated that this movie would make a mockery out of you. Would make a mockery out of his girl. 

“What a bimbo!” Mike laughs out, shaking his head. “Open the door and run. Jesus this girl is stupid.” 

“Do you think the real girl was stupid enough to do-“ Will starts before Eddie snaps out “Shut. Up.” 

Steve, who was normally the first to tell one of them shut up in any given situation, looks over at Eddie with wide eyes and a shocked look. He mouths a “you okay?” and Eddie chooses to act like he hadn’t seen it because the truth was he wasn’t okay and everyone in this room knew something was off.

He had tried calling you numerous times, and had even stopped by your dorm more times than he could count. Desperate to see you, desperate to explain the shirt and explain that he had no idea what was going on. 

It didn’t take much to figure out what you had scrambled together that night. Everyone was talking about you, talking about the final girl on campus and dashing to get a picture and he had shown up wearing a shirt that had that stupid fucking mask on it and- Jesus just thinking about it had his heart lurching through his throat as he rubbed at his face aggressively. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since. 

Your roommate had explained that under the circumstances the school allowed you take finals early and head home for winter break, and Eddie was absolutely disgusted to realize that this was the first time he had ever seen a dash of excitement on your roommates face regarding you. Of course she would be the one to hate you until you because a popular name.  What a bit-

“YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The lead actor in the movie wails out in pain, now fully unmasked and holding his side from where the actress had managed to stab him. 

All he could see was you, you covered in blood with tears streaming down your face. You limping from the injury on your leg as you circled around getting ready for the killers next attack. 

All he could see was you. 

He wanted to make it all go away, to be there and protect you from everything. Kiss away all the pain and hold you close enough that your bodies might as well morph together. He wanted you, and after weeks of not being near you he found that he couldn’t breathe or think straight. 

It was like someone had cut off his oxygen the second you dashed away from him. 

The main actor playing Billy begins taunting the actress- you- and laughing. Laughing on her pain and how he has used her just mere hours before and Eddie thinks he’s going to throw up. Heat flashes through him as a tight pain sears through his chest while he fights back the urge to puke, his hands raveling into tight fists. 

He used you. He used his girl. 

He had taken something from you that you would never get back and made it into a weapon. Blind rage fills his body as he gets up, angrily slamming the dial and turning the tv off before moving to the kitchen and beginning to angrily clean up everything they had used tonight. 

His body sings as he slams the pots and pans from dinner into the sink, each bang giving him a little sense of pleasure. The spoons follow next and more and more until he can finally start scrubbing them clean. Scrubbing inch by inch, getting every spec of something off the dishes as someone makes an appearance in the kitchen. 

He expects it to be Steve or Dustin, coming in to make some annoying remark on his attitude, so he chooses to stare at the fake tile the apartment manager had put up for his uncle when he was moved in. He stares and stares and stares, seeing the light from the kitchen flash from it. 

“Munson.” Eddie is shocked to hear a female voice, strong and i breaking rather than the voice of his 2 dumbass friends, whipping around to face none other than Nancy Wheeler. 

Eddie had been a little shocked when he saw her the first time tonight, because Nancy Wheeler looked different. From what Eddie could understand from her letters she had dropped both Steve and Jonathan and chose to move to college and build a better future and it showed. Her hair was perfectly done, she dressed in flattering outfits that fit her well and she stood a little taller. No more will they won’t they bullshit and Nancy was growing into the smartest person Eddie knew. She always had been but he would never admit that to her. 

“Wheeler.” He sighs back, casting his eyes back to the dishes before him. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t even know how he could explain any of it to her. 

“You know I love your letters, I’m glad you still write with me.” She smiles, moving closer. “But something has been off about your past letters.” 

“Oh yeah? You finally realize I’m illiterate?” 

“Close, but I’ve always known that.” She teases which forces a small smile on Eddie’s face as well. “You just seemed…. Happier. I was always worried about you in the beginning because of what you went through and your letters, although you tried to make it sound like you were having fun, you just seemed miserable. But then it changed, and you started writing about the pretty girl from your English class and the next thing I knew it was like your letters lit up.” 

His mouth goes dry, and he can’t pull himself together long enough to look at her. “I didn’t know you could tell.” 

“I knew you didn’t want me to know.” 

“What about it?” He finally asks. 

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and he finally looks up at her to see that she’s pulling a newspaper from behind her back and setting it on the counter quickly. “I know the editor for your colleges newsletters.” 

There you were. After weeks of not seeing your face he feels the breath of fresh air, his lungs expanding as he snatches the paper to pull the photo of you smiling a little closer to him. Just like that he felt like he was in your dorm again, laying with you while you both laughed at something. Your roommate, or maybe your teachers accent, maybe the jock that works at your shared pizza spot and never seems to know what to say. 

It takes him a moment to drag his eyes away from the photo and read along the lines printed, seeing how they found out made his jaw clench one more time. An “anonymous source” recognized you from the newspaper and had to tell the world. Then the source explains that he also recognized that you were on a date with the ‘Metalhead that can never brush his hair’. Low blow. 

“You recognized me because the metal head comment?” 

“I recognized the girl you described. The metalhead comment just cemented my belief.”

“What about it?”

“Well I’m using my power of deduction to assume that something happened and you’re mad about the movie-“ A deep sigh falls from his lips before he nods and moves to face her fully. 

He explains what happened and Nancy is a great listener, and once he is done she merely nods before a smile breaks out across her face. “This is so perfect for you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean with everything that we went through and everything that you specifically went through we never find people that can handle our trauma-“

“Therapist Nancy is in the building.” 

“And this is a beautiful person that, although she doesn’t understand our trauma, understands trauma on her own and-“ She takes a deep breath in before looking at him with such excitement it made his stomach ache. “You just seem so much better, you seem happier. I haven’t seen you rub your side once.” 

His heart stops, ringed hand rushing up to rub his side, rubbing slow soft circles as he did so. She was right, since Eddie had been thinking about you so much he hadn’t had time to think about his side. Now that she’s mentioned it he can feel the full ache there, pulsing under his skin like another heartbeat.

“I just don’t know how to explain it. You know? To make her believe me.” 

“You’ve been collecting outcasts and misfits for as long as I can remember. You have the weirdest way of making the most shut down people I know break out of their shell. You will be just fine.” She smiles, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before heading back out to where the rest of the group had chosen to hide out and let him finish the dishes in silence. 

By the time he makes it back out to sit with them they are watching a comedy movie Steve had chosen, and Dustin is staring at Eddie with a highly confused look. But Eddie just attempts a smile at him, staring at the screen to ignore the rest of the world. 

- 

The rest of the break was spent catching up with Wayne and helping his uncle out with anything he needed, and when Eddie told him he would be going back a week early Wayne made sure he had everything he needed and the two parted ways with a tight hug before Eddie began his trip back. 

But there was one stop he had to make first, and his chest was tight just at the thought of it. 

He had one newspaper clipping, back from when he himself had been in the hospital, he had found it in a book Wayne had been reading then. It was folded up and used as a bookmark, half the words ineligible from the time used but he could still make out the town he needed from it. 

So he packed it all up, got directions and drove to find you. 

You had always told him stories about the town you grew up in, but he had never connected the dots, now as he drove past the welcoming signs it finally settled in. The diner your parents always took you to was right there. The school you went to was 3 blocks away. The cabin that changed your life, as he understood it, was an hour just into the woods. 

This was your town. 

His chest ached for Hawkins, a town he hadn’t seen in years since they moved him and his uncle away. Even spending winter break with his friends meant they had to go to a new town so no one would spot him. 

He had hated Hawkins, but that was his home. 

He stops at a red light, skin itching with excitement at the possibility of seeing you.  Even if you turned him away he would be able to spot you for just a second. That would make him feel better. 

A honk pulls his attention, making him defensive as he sits up, looking to see where it came from and finding quite the angry scene unfolding before him. A pedestrian had been walking and a car had honked, the two now sat cursing eachother out. Eddie watched, stuck due to the light, and turned his music down to concentrate more as he watched one of them slam his hand on the hood of the car in anger. There was something utterly familiar about him, one that he just couldn’t put his finger on. 

Before he think about it too much the light turned green and he drove off, casting one last look on their direction before he pulled over and asked for directions to your place. 

For a town known for a murder spree peopke seemed just fine handing out personal information and Eddie tried not to get too irritated or protective at that fact. Instead he drove slowly, trying to remember if the older gentleman had said red brick or 2 houses down from the red brick. 

He got his answer when he made it to the street, seeing a news van outside the red brick house as someone filmed in front of it. He parked, hopping out of his car and heading up, keeping his face turned away from the news caster as he knocked on the door softly. 

There was no answer and Eddie was beginning to believe his plan was useless and stupid. What are the chances that you are home right now? And what are the chances you would answer the door to him?

He knocks a second time anyways, heat traveling his skin in embarrassment at this whole idea when suddenly the door opens. It’s the smallest amount, but he recognizes your eyes immediately. They seem to narrow in on him and he finds himself holding his hands out in a surrender motion with a small smile. “I was hoping to explain myself.” 

“I don’t want to deal with some crazy stalker-“ you snap out, moving to close the door quickly before his hand is being shoved between so you can’t. It hits him and he gasps out in pain which makes you remove the pressure with a gasp of your own. “Are you crazy?! I could have broken your hand!” 

“I’m not a crazy stalker, I had no clue. Please just give me a moment to explain.” He sighs, “it’s not what it seems.” 

You both seem to have caught the news anchors attention, risking a side glance to where she is now standing and blinking slowly at you both. He stares back, giving her his best mean mug before he feels your hand snatch the front of his leather jacket and drag him in quickly. 

He trips over his own feet, reaching a hand up to grab your arm to stablize himself as you glare and shut the door. 

“I don’t recommend getting into with her, she will blast your ass across the news networks.” 

“The government would make her take it all down. I’m not really worried.” It’s meant to be a joke, something to ease the tension as you rubs soft circles on your arm, but you merely glare at him and he knows you didn’t get it. But his main concern is the bags under your tear stained eyes. “Have you been crying? When’s the last time you slept?” 

His hands fly to cradle your chin, rubbing soft circles on the skin, his rings glinting in the light of your living room. You seem to melt into his touch and he finds himself truly happy at the thought, moving closer to you. 

“I should be the one asking you that.” You snap, staring at his own bags. “You look like hell.” 

“I haven’t been sleeping. I’ve been caught up thinking about you and-“ 

“I know you didn’t know.” You blurt , cutting him off. “I know it, and part of me knew it then but I was panicked and embarrassed and I can’t believe I hit you. I….. oh my god I hit you in front of everyone and you-“

“I’m not mad. It’s not the first time I’ve been hit and I enjoyed the sting. Warmed my cheek up a little.” He teases and you shake your head. 

“Eddie. No. That wasn’t okay and I can’t believe I did that. You gotta know that I’m bad news, okay? You’re better off without me.” You rush out, head snapping a bit when you hear the news reporter speaking closer than she was before. He watches as you rush to lock the door before coming back to him and holding out a hand for him to grab, he takes it quickly and lets you lead him up the stairs. He can’t decide between staring at you and your beauty or admiring the house you grew up in. You decide for him when you lead him into a room and shut the door. 

“Sorry. They have the habit to peer through windows.” You explain, blushing bad as he scoffs. 

“They really do that? Fucking lunatics.” 

“Everyone wants to know the girl that-“ you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “You probably have questions. Ask away, ask anything. I owe you that.” 

His chest tightens painfully and his jaw clenches at your words, choosing to look around your room because he was too afraid to look you in the eyes. This entire room felt wrong, it didn’t feel like you….. well maybe a past version of yourself. One he hadn’t met, still happy and innocent in the world. Like your past had been frozen in place. 

He had his own version of this, his own room would have been stuck in the past if the police hadn’t snatched everything of his since it was a crime scene. 

“You don’t owe me anything.” He bites out. “Ever. I want you to open up to me when you’re ready, not because you feel guilty for something. If you’re in danger, on the other hand, then yes you need to tell me.” 

Still refusing to look at you as he runs his fingers over all your garments in the closet before walking by your desk and doing the same there. Humming a little when he sees a picture of you cheek to cheek with a cheerleader, both of you smiling ear to ear. 

“Mila.”

“Maya, actually.” You sigh. “Her name was Maya.” 

Nodding slowly, his stomach clenching in pain at your time as he turns to sit on your bed, finally facing you. 

“I have many many questions. But you do not owe me answers.”

“I want to answer them.” You smile slightly, walking forward ever so slowly. “Not because I owe you, I want a clean slate with you. You know all my secrets and I get to be myself.”

His hands reach out to grab your hips, pulling you softly into his hold as he peers up at you with his heart hammering through his chest. You peer down at him, obviously a little worried and he wants nothing more than to wipe that look off your face. 

“How about I go first?” He whispers, relieved when he sees the worry replace itself with confusion. Smiling from ear to ear as he slowly slides the leather jacket off before reaching down to pull his hellfire shirt over his head. His scars pull a bit as he reaches to do so, and the second the fabric is off him he watches your face intently, looking for any shred of disgust. 

He finds none, only a look of devastation as you reach slowly to rub your thumb along one. “Fire?” 

“No. Bats.” He smiles. 

“Bats?!”

“Bats.” 

“Bats?” 

“Yup..” 

“Like the Halloween version of birds?” 

“Weird way to describe them but I’ll allow it.” He scoffs, watching as you let your thumb follow the ridge of it. He doesn’t want to think about how soft your skin feels, or how gentle your being. 

“How do you get attacked by bats, plural and not just one?” You whisper, allowing him to reach up and pull you in by your hips until both your thighs were on either side of his, allowing you to straddle him. 

“It’s a long story. One that I really don’t think you’ll believe but I brought proof.” He mumbles, nose nudging your jaw. “And I’m hoping you’ll believe me.” 

-

The proof, which had been the tooth of a demobat, you had gotten freaked out and demanded he put it away which had made him laugh and shove it back in the pocket of his jeans. You spent the next hour asking him question after question, taking 5 minute breaks to kiss along his face whenever you thought his answer was painful. 

Finally it went back to you, and as much as he loved sharing the secret with you, Eddie found himself grateful that the pressure was off of him. He hated talking about it all. 

But now you were explaining your side of things, and he found that he truly didn’t feel much better as you went through the events of the night. 

You explained that you hadn’t slept with him that night but you had in the past, explaining how you had separated from Maya and the rest of the party because Billy had pulled you away to argue about your relationship. 

While you had been arguing with Billy his friend Stu had been killing people downstairs, your friends Maya and Paul included. 

He listened closely as you described seeing the mask for the first time and the terrifying dash for your life you had made, jumping off the roof to avoid him. How you tried the van to see if you could drive away, but another figure had found you and you were doing your best to escape over the console when he slashed your thigh but you still managed to get out of the car through the door. The final fight with them where you received the scar along your arm and your abdomen. You described finding Randy in the bushes as you waited outside man’s held onto his stab wound until the police arrived. At that point in the night you had been fully covered in blood, yours and your friends and the killers. The police had mistaken you and put you in handcuffs first while the paramedics were trying to rush you to the hospital. They only released you once they got Kelvins and Randy’s story. 

“I thought there had been four survivors?” 

“There was five of you include Gale and Dewey. She was a news anchor and he was the deputy of the time.” 

“And Kelvin was the one that sold the story? Wasn’t he dating Maya?” 

“Yes to both.” 

“Does that make you mad?” He whispers, tensing a bit when you begin caressing his side once more, letting your finger feel his scar like you were amazed by it. He fights the urge to bring a hand up and cover it, embarrassment clinging to him like dust to wet paint. 

“I try to think about it from his point of view…..” you start, your voice nothing but a whisper as your nose nearly touches his. From right here he can smell the your perfume perfectly, his thighs tensing as he feels his jeans tighten. “And then I always relent to anger, because he’s never tried to see it from my point of view and I’m the one that saved him.” 

Your finger slides from his scar up to his chest, rubbing at the collarbone there. “Do you ever get mad about it all?” 

“All the time. I think anger is the only thing that keeps me going sometimes” he admits, loving the way excitement sparks in your eyes. 

“You don’t think I’m a bad person for wanting to crack Kelvins nose in?” 

“Baby, I want to and I’m not even involved,” he laughs and before he knows it you are dragging him in for a heavy kiss, your hands woven in his hair as he moans a little into your mouth. 

“I want you.” You breathe out when you break from the kiss, moving off him a little to give him room to crawl back as you push him back slightly. 

He does what you want, smiling up at you as you tear off your shirt. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure about anything.” 

-

“This is so stupid.” Savannah Stevens snaps, slamming her car door and moving to the trunk to snatch the overpacked suitcase she took home for winter break. 

Arriving back to school a week early was absolutely dreadful, and not something she ever planned on doing. None of the other girls would be coming back until Friday which meant it would just be her and the freaky girl Lindsay who barely ever spoke. To nervous to make eye contact but her mom was a pledge so she got an easy way in. 

Savannah would be enjoying a nice hot dinner with her family right about now if her teacher hadn’t emailed her about a missing project that was worth 70 percent of her grade that semester. So she was forced to drive back to school and get it in before the new semester started. How lame. 

There was a million other things she’d rather be doing right now, and as she struggled to find the key to the sorority house she chose to try and forget about them. 

Frustration knaws at her as she cannot find the key, twisting the handle in a lame attempt to open it but shocked to find that it slides open easily. “Wow Lindsay.”

Nevermind people breaking in, Lindsay would just let them walk in, but the anger disappears when the warmth of the building engulfs her and she sighs in relief, stripping the jacket off and throwing it on the chair beside the door telling herself she would pick it up soon. 

“LINDSAY?!” She calls, looking around at all the lights that had been turned on in the home. Brittany was going to lose her shit at the electric bill. “LINDSAY!”

When she gets no answer she rolls her eyes, turning to lock the door before walking through and turning the lights off as she made her way to the room. 

Just as her hand hits the handle there is a shrill ring that breaks through the house, making her jump and turn to where one of the many landlines sat. “Swear to god if that’s Amy’s weird boyfriend….”

She picks it up anyways, sighing out as she answers “Hello?” 

“Hello….”

“Yes. Hello. How can I help you?”

“I was looking for someone.” The voice drawls out, slow and saccharine. “Think you might be able to help me?” 

“Who are you looking for?”

“Well that depends… do you think-“ 

“If you’re calling for your girlfriend she’s not here.” Savannah snaps, shaking her head. “Leave a name and I’ll write your message down.” 

“It’s Paul….” 

“Okay Paul,” she sighs. “Wait…. Like? Paul from English class? This is Savannah!” 

“You mean the cheerleader that sits in the front row?” 

“Yes, oh my god hi. I was actually scared for a second?” she laughs, hand falling on her chest as she breathed out. “Who are you calling for?” 

“You,” 

“Oh haha.” She giggles. “You calling for Lindsay?” 

“I’m calling for you.” The voice says, more serious. “Think you have a moment to talk? Or should you go and close the front door?” 

“What do you me-“ she begins to ask, walking to the staircase and stopping short when she sees the door that she locked wide open.

“What the fuck- how did- where the fuck are you Paul?” She snaps, instantly on edge as she whirls around to check around her. “This isn’t fucking funny.”

“What’s not funny about it?” 

“You think this is a fucking joke?! Huh?! I’ll tell Munson, and L/N. Yeah I’m their friend so why don’t you back the fuck off you freak!” 

“Munson huh? And just who is this Munson?”

“You need to BACK OFF!” She screams, dashing back down the hallway and looking for a spot to hide. “I’ll call the police and-“ 

Then he was there, in front of her, peering down at her through the mask. A loud scream tears it’s way out of her mouth as the assailant grabs her, plunging his knife deep into her abdomen. 

“I asked what was so funny?”

(Yeahhhhhh. Who do you think is the new ghostface? Scream 2 babiessssss. Once again I wrote this series awhile ago and just never published it.)

(Scream will not be the same without Melissa and Jenna, I will no longer be watching and as much as I love the series I urge anyone to stop streaming it for the time being.)

TAGLIST:: (Tell me if you want removed <3)

@cryingglightningg @maxstecc @hookergutss @sunshinepeachx @random000000sblog @fried-peaches00

[beautifuldisaster88]

Forever by my side

A/N: After coming across the gif, this idea randomly came to me. If I get the inspiration, I MIGHT make a part two. I used the same McKenzie/Kenzie, but you can picture reader as yourself or whoever you want. The only description of reader is; female, 17, eye color (mentioned only once) Rafe always called her 'bunny'

Summary: Rafe's girlfriend is John B's twin sister and he tells her everything. She's seen a lot of bad shit, but swore to always keep her mouth shut because she loves Rafe. Ward on the other hand becomes Paranoid that the Routledge girl will go to the sheriff, so he takes matters into his own hands, causing his son to finally snap.

Warnings: mentions of murder, actual murder, violence, Rafe seeing hallucinations not knowing it's not real, cursing, mentions of torture. I think that's it?

Rafe's tall frame appeared in the doorway. The young man looked at his father, Ward Cameron, as he made his way inside his office. What the hell did Ward want from him now? He didn't have time for this shit.

"What the hell do you want, dad? I already told you that I need to find-"

The dirty blonde was cut off by Ward, clearly making Rafe grow even more irritated.

"That's why I called you in here, son. You don't have to worry about that anymore. It's all been ta-"

Ward was then cutoff by a breaking news report on the TV. The older Cameron man sighed, knowing exactly what the news report was about. He was hoping to be the one to break it to Rafe before anyone else.

"Breaking News. Kildare County Sheriff's department was called out to the marsh earlier this morning, witnesses claiming they spotted a body."

The news reporter began, immediately catching Rafe's attention. He ignored his father, giving the TV his full attention. Outer Banks wasn't a big place, so it was more than likely that Rafe knew whoever's body was found. The last thing he ever expected to hear came next.

"According to Sheriff Shoupe, 17 year old McKenzie Routledge's body washed up early this morning. It's still unclear how the young girl died, and the Sheriff's department is currently undergoing an investigation. If you have any information we urge you to call the Sheriff's department. We will update you with new information as it becomes available. McKenzie left behind her twin brother, John B Routledge, not even a year after the death of their father. Our thoughts and prayers go out to her family and friends."

Rafe stood there frozen in place, his heart breaking and ears ringing, as tears fell from his eyes. Not his Kenzie, please, anyone but her. Who would want to hurt her, she was always nothing but sweet to everyone and she had no enemies. That's when it hit him.

He violently jerked his body around to face Ward, Rafe's blood already beginning to boil as his heart shattered into a million pieces.

"What the fuck did you do!?" Rafe screamed as he began to pace, jabbing his finger into his own chest. "I-I loved her, dad! She fucking saved me, saw me for me! W-why would you take her from me!? She never fucking hurt anyone!"

"Rafe, I need you to calm down. I did what I had to do.. to protect us... Protect you. The Routledge girl knew too much, and it was only a matter of time before she slipped up and told someone. She had to go, son. I did this for you."

Now Rafe was beyond angry, his vision immediately turning red, blurred with tears. He grabbed Ward by the collar of his shirt and slammed the older Cameron man violently against the wall. Rafe got right in his face, seething like a rabid animal. His piercing blue eyes were now dark.

"You didn't fucking do shit for me! You never have! You fucking killed her for your own selfish fucking needs! She's not like the other Pogues and she would have never opened her fucking mouth! You took away my only happiness! The only girl I have ever fucking loved! I swear to you, I will fucking kill you, but first I'm going to make you suffer, just like you did to my Kenzie. You're not my father, you're nothing but a pathetic, scared piece of shit. The scum on the bottom of my shoe. It's fucking over for you, Ward! I will avenge my love's death."

Rafe had his hand gripped around Ward's throat so tight, that he looked at the man with a sinister smile, tears still running down his face. He watched as Ward tried to gasp for air, clawing at his son's hand as his eyes and face began to turn colors. Rafe was going to kill Ward eventually, but first he wanted him to suffer, until he was begging Rafe to kill him.

A dark laugh rumbled deep from Rafe's chest, a clear sign that the Cameron boy had officially completely lost it. Ward tried to beg Rafe to stop, barely able to speak from his airway being cut off.

"Did you make my Kenzie beg for her life too, huh? Is the last thing you saw were those beautiful emerald green eyes filled with tears, begging you not to hurt her!? She was fucking innocent! Would've taken our secrets to her motherfucking grave... Which ironically enough, she did all because of you."

Rafe then began to repeatedly slam the back of Ward's head against the wall, over and over again, as his fist connected with Ward's face, jaw, nose, you name it. The Cameron boy beat the man he once looked up to to a bloody pulp, before literally dragging him down the stairs and into the basement, where he threw Ward inside the wine cellar.

Weeks went by, and nobody had heard from Ward. Rafe played the distraught son, acting like he was worried sick about his missing father, when the truth was he had him locked away where nobody would find him, Ward's days were numbered. Rafe had used every type of torture imaginable.

The worst part about the Cameron boy finally completely snapping? He held full on conversations with his Kenzie, as if she was standing right beside him, telling her that he was going to kill Ward for her. In Rafe's mind, Kenzie WAS there, even responding to him when he spoke.

"I love you, Rafey. I knew that I could always count on you to keep me safe. Once Ward is out of the picture, it'll be just you and me. We can finally leave this island and start our life together, away from everyone."

Rafe grinned like a maniac, looking directly at his Kenzie, when in reality he was looking at nothing. She wasn't there, she was dead, but he refused to believe that.

"I'll always protect you, bunny. This time next week, you and I will be on a private beach somewhere far away, sipping on cocktails and fucking under the sunlight. Ward is barely hanging on, and tomorrow is when we finally end him. I'm gonna marry you, Kenzie, yeah? Make you my wife and have a bunch of little ones running around. 'm gonna give you the world, baby."

Rafe caressed her cheek, actually caressing thin air, as he leaned his forehead against 'McKenzie's.

"I can't wait, Rafey. Now, come on, baby, we have a gruesome murder to prepare for. Don't listen when Ward tries to convince you that I'm not real. He's just trying to get you on his side, save his own ass. You can see me, touch me, feel me, you know I'm real, right baby?"

"Of course you're real, bunny. I don't believe anything Ward says, talking about he killed you. And they say I'm the crazy one? He's the one talking about you being dead, when I'm holding you in my arms right now."

The next night, Rafe murdered Ward, with his Kenzie by his side, cheering him on. He stabbed him over and over again, the same way that Ward had killed McKenzie, but in Rafe's mind both him and his Kenzie came up with the idea.

After disposing of Ward's body, the same exact way Ward had disposed of McKenzie's, Rafe packed his and Kenzie's bags and loaded up the truck. The two of them, in reality just Rafe, left the Outer Banks and never looked back.

[thetransartguy]

PLEASE MAKE A PART TWO OF YOUR HEART LIES WITH ME MY DEAR

Your heart Lies with me my dear pt 2

So, im sorry this took so long to write i got busy with school (end of a grading period), then i got (still have) a UTI, im in a lot of pain rn mainly my lower back so as i am writing this im laying on a heating pad.

CW: just sad, trust issues, bad writing lmao also not my gif

Seeing Hotchner for the first time in 5 years was shocking, but seeing him like this was even more shocking. He had a look in his eyes he'd never seen before. It's not worry, it's not fear. ….. is it hurt? You think to yourself as you sit on your sofa talking to JJ.

How can he be hurt if he leaves? You didn't leave him, and he had no right to be upset at you. Clearly, he didn't want you, so what was the point in telling him that you had a child? Jack had never mentioned wanting anymore kids, so that would be one less thing for him to worry about.

The other agents were gone, leaving you alone with your ex. Could you even call him that? You two never made it official. And yet you still viewed him as your boyfriend,Was that stupid of you? probably. Did you care? not really.

It was quiet, not the comfortable quiet, but the uncomfortable kind—the kind that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up—kind of quiet. He looked at you; his eyes were ice cold. This hurt your heart more than it should have. It had been 5 years, and yet you still went over him.

Eliza was put down for a nap, so you didn't have to worry about her seeing this side of him. She didn't know that Hotchner was her dad because she never asked, but if he had, you would have told her.

“Why didn't you call me..." The old man asks quietly. You don't look at him; you don't dare fucking look at him, not because he would do anything bad, but because you knew you would fall for him all over again.

“You left. I didn't think you wanted anything to do with me." You respond plainly but quietly so as not to make the situation worse. Hotchner sighs and rests his face in his hands.

It was quiet for a long moment, and neither of you said, “Listen." I did what I thought was best," Aaron said in a stern tone, making you laugh. "I did what you thought was best." You pause for a moment. "Aaron, you left without any reason and didn't even give me time to fucking process everything, and as for my baby, which I know you're going to ask about,” you snapped. “I didn't think you would want to see her considering how fast you fucking left.”

Aaron was taken aback by your behavior; he's never seen you mad before. A look of shock on his face made him more shocked than before. “(Y/N)...." Before he could finish, you cut him off. “No. I found out I was pregnant three months after you left. You left, not me," the younger woman couldn't help but have her eyes filled with tears.

She was mad rightfully, so the man she loved left out of nowhere. How was she supposed to react, and the fact that he felt so entitled in this moment didn't make it any better?

“(Y/N)... listen to me, I want to be in her life. I want to be in your life." He sounded broken.. so broken.. so sad.. you let out a shaky breath. “You're just going to leave again." This broke Hotchner's heart. He knew you would have to gain your trust back, which was going to take a while, and he knew that until he gave your trust, he wouldn't be able to see his daughter. This was going to be a long day the rest of the year, Hotchner thought to himself as he got ready to speak again.

[imtryingbuck]

Divorce Always Comes With A Price.

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky confesses to having an affair and wants a divorce

Word count: 1023

Warnings: Angst. That’s all.

A/N: there’s going to be a second part.

Masterlist

Part 2

The skies start to turn dark even with the sun shining brightly, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was forewarning for what’s to come.

Taking a deep breath, you look up at the sky to see the birds flying freely with no care in the world. Looking around there’s two paramedics sitting in the van waiting for another call to come through, seeing two young new parents with their bundle of joy waiting for a car to pull up. You smile. Then your pushed to the side. A man in a suit on his phone talking rather loudly about how long he had to wait to be seen. You still smile. That’s when your phone goes off and you see the notification that your Uber has arrived. 

Marty your driver talks about his wife and three children with so much passion and love you just simply can’t wipe the smile off your face. When it’s time to depart you tip him twice the charge and wish him all the best. Walking into the lobby of the huge building, smiling at everyone you come across. With the news that the doctors told you, you just can’t stop appreciating everything and everyone. Stepping out of the elevator your heart soars seeing your family gathered around.

Bucky shoots straight to his feet and before you can say anything he hands you a folder.

Not looking at you he speaks in a voice you can only describe as detached “I want a divorce I need you to sign these. I’ve been having an affair for the past 4 months and I love her”.

The smile you’ve been wearing drops along with your heart. The air is cut off. The room is spinning. Your world has ended. Trying so hard not to strutter which fails as you ask “y-y-um you l-lo-ve her?”

This man who’ve been your husband for the past two years boyfriend of three, the man who promised to spend the rest of his life with you, is same man that can’t even look you in the eyes as he breaks your heart in to smithereens. He nods. With your his families eyes on you, you do the same. With a shaky hand you take the pen out of James’s outstretched one. With a stuttering breath you sign your name. 

You dare yourself to take one last look at his handsome face before you fall backwards and walk out, no one utters a single word. It feels like time stands still as you wait for the elevator doors to open.

It’s only once you’re outside you realise there’s tears pouring out of your eyes. How long they have been falling is unknown to you. You have no idea how long you’ve been standing still like a statue in front of the building doors. It’s only when you hear the mighty rumble up above you take notice of the rain, its only then you take a step forward then the next and the next. You don’t even realise you’ve walked all the way back to your home drenched head to toe and shivering but you barely flinch.

How you’ve done it is lost on you but you’ve packed all your things up. This isn’t your home, it’s Bucky’s he brought it. Your best friends at the door helping you get everything out, he brings you into a tight hug whispering ‘everything going to be ok’ it’s not. And you’re the only one who knows it.

It’s been a month since that day, and it’ll be the first time today that you’ll be seeing him again. Staying with Matt for the past four weeks has been okay, you just wish you could wake up from this nightmare and be at home with your husband. Not your husband idiot, he’s with someone else now. He’s divorcing you to be with her. He loves her not you. Idiot. Wishing the voices in your head would leave you just like your husband did. 

He still looks the same, still smells the same. Still not looking in your direction which you’re grateful for, if he did you’d break down in a fit of tears. 

“—I don’t want anything in the divorce, he can keep the house the money, everything. I will have no use for that stuff” you speak in a soft way. And with that it’s done. You’re no longer Y/N Barnes, you’re no longer married to James Buchanan Barnes. You take your leave as fast as you possibly can. You can’t bear to spend another minute around him. As you begin to walk down the corridor with Matt and Foggy on either side of you, you seem them. The people that were your family sitting there on the benches waiting for your now ex-husband, they all bore sad expressions but it’s not them you pay attention to no it’s the brunette-haired woman you’ve never seen before. She’s gorgeous. You take a wild guess and assume she’s the woman Bucky had an affair with. Your heart breaks. But you can see why he loves her. Your feet start to slow down on their own accord Matt notices so ever so gently he grabs your hand and gives a small smile.

Getting back to the apartment where you’ve been staying with Matt you finally let the floodgates open and you make no effort at all to make them stop. Matt stands there not knowing what to say or do, nothing he can say will make this pain go away. So he does the same thing he’s done for the past month, he holds you, he holds you so tightly hating the universe for doing this to such a beautiful, incredible loving person. Hating James for causing you grief, hating the other woman even though he doesn’t know her, hating the all mighty avengers for not doing anything for you. Hating how even with the pain and turmoil you’ve been feeling this past month you can’t find it in yourself to hate the person who’s done this to you. He continues to hold you long after you pass out.

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[pappydaddy]

i would give you the whole earth (j.m)

tv show/movie: outer banks | pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader 

requested by another lovely anon as part of my 800 follower celebration

synopsis: jj has a surprise for his girlfriend

taglist: @luvhann | @thelakespoets  | @lonely-simp | @smarie7543| @tenaciousperfectionunknown | @k-k0129 | @maybankslover*line through you user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: reader has their eyes covered for a while. surprises. something going around reader's neck. fluff. this is all fluff.

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

- not my gif -

 “You’re covering your eyes, right?” JJ’s voice called from behind her. She blinked, her eyelashes tickling her palm. All she could see was darkness. She hated surprises and wanted to just wiggle her fingers enough that she could possibly peek to get a glimpse of what was happening. But, she didn’t. JJ was excited and she didn’t want to ruin it for him - no matter how much she wanted to pull her hair out from the suspense. 

  “Yes, JJ,” She huffed, dancing around in the spot he sat her in at the foot of the bed. She could feel him crawling onto the bed behind her before she felt his rough fingers trying to delicately move her hair. “JJ, what are you doing?” She questioned, jolting slightly when his cold fingers hit the back of her neck ever so slightly. 

  “You’ll see in a sec.” He reassured her. Even if she didn’t feel his touch, she could feel the heat of him. She could feel the heat of his body from where it sat only just inches away from her back. She could feel the air moving as his arms circled around her. She almost jumped out of her skin at every accidental brush of his arm or knuckle on the inside of her forearms - making her even more confused.

  “Are you wrapping something around my neck?” She asked. He must have been threading something under her arms so that it can rest against her neck, she just didn’t know what. 

  “Do you trust me?” His voice was laced with mock annoyance. He already knew the answer. If she didn’t she would have never listened to him when he told her to cover her eyes. That, and if she didn’t trust him, then they would have to have a serious talk since they’ve been dating for close to two years already.

  “Whole-heartedly.” She responded instantly, her voice steady and sure. He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, and that was the end of the conversation. She was still antsy for him to hurry the surprise up before she actually did tear her own hair out, but she didn’t want to rain on his parade. 

  Seconds later, something cold tightened softly against the front of her neck. It was thin, and it twitched as JJ fiddled with something behind her neck, whispered curses falling from his lips before whatever it was was loosened. Sliding down her chest, the cold metal settled in the centre. “Okay, you can open your eyes.” His breath tickled her neck as he whispered the words into her ear. 

  Suddenly giddy and nervous, she slowly let her hands slide from her eyes, light invading her senses slowly. As her eyes were uncovered, she could feel JJ quickly scrambling around to stand in front of her, his striking blue eyes being the first thing she saw. Instantly, almost like an automatic response, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Hi.” She whispered breathlessly as his own smile took over his lips. 

  JJ simply pointed to her neck, eyes dropping to whatever he had put there. Her smile stayed as she raised her hand, gently letting her finger land on the new weight settling on her chest, feeling smooth metal. With her brows furrowed with curiosity. Looking down, lifting her pointer finger off of it, she gasped lightly. There, sitting on her chest, shining in the light was a gold necklace with a cursive ‘J’ on it. “Do you not like it? I knew I should have gone with the one with diamonds in the J-” He started to pace, hands flying to his hair - tugging. 

  “It’s gorgeous, J-” She cut herself off, looking up at him. At her words, he whirled around, blue eyes hopeful that he didn’t hear her wrong. When his eyes met her soft, tearful ones, he knew he had heard her perfectly fine. “I love it, just like I love you.” She reassured him in case he was still doubting. 

  Standing from the foot of the bed, she crossed the space between them within a second. Arms wrapping around his shoulders, she pulled herself flush against him, dancing around on her tippy toes cutely. She knew JJ loved when she did that. In an instant, his arms found their spot on her waist, pushing her closer against him (if that was even possible). “That’s not even the best part.” He smiled down at her. 

  Her mouth fell open to question him, but he cut her off. Quickly, he pulled one of his hands from her and reached into his shirt, fingers digging around under his neckline. When his hand resurfaced, he was holding a similar gold chain. “You’re wearing a necklace-” Her words died when his hand released the chain, revealing the letter of her first name in the same font as the ‘J’ on her necklace. “Matching necklaces!” She nearly squealed, excitement lighting up her face. 

  “Matching necklaces,” He confirmed, looking proud of himself. “I remember you mentioning how you thought couples with matching jewellery were cute so I saved up for the last six months to get these for you. All while working with some guy Sarah knows who makes custom jewellery.” 

  “Shut up! You did not get us custom matching necklaces,” She gasped, hitting his chest lightly before burying her face into his chest, arms sliding down his torso until she slipped her arms around his middle, squeezing him with all her might. “That must have cost you a fortune, JJ,” She was a little upset that he spent so much money on her when she knew he was saving up for a car so he didn’t have to just rely on his bike, but she didn’t want to make him think she didn’t love the gesture. “You shouldn’t have spent so much money on me, Love.” She muttered, nuzzling into him, her heart hurting. As much as she loved the necklace, she couldn’t help but feel guilty. He really wanted that car.

  JJ pressed a lingering kiss to the top of her head. “You’re worth every penny, Love. Every penny spent and more. I would give you the whole earth if I could.” He whispered, lips moving against the top of her head. Now it was his turn to squeeze her to him, just not as hard as she squeezed him - just enough to tell her he wanted her to be this close to him always. Both physically, intimately, figuratively, and emotionally.