#then they do everything but fuck each other

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirty-four —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4.5k tags: death. blood and gore. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. enemies to lovers. harm to a child. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

The rattle of vials cuts through the quiet sobbing as you raid the cabinet, stuffing a backpack with painkillers and sedatives. No antibiotics.  

"Is there any alcohol?" 

From the corner of the room, the response breaks apart. "There's... some... under there."

You move to the sink, uncorking a half-filled bottle that reeks of absinthe. It fits snugly into the backpack. A nod to Nereida. She lowers the gun from the young woman’s temple. Straps over your shoulders, you step into the smoke-tinged air, leaving the woman behind, when her accented voice chokes out: "You have taken... everything from us."

You stand in the doorway, watching a piece of ash fall on the scuffed leather of your shoe, then glance over your shoulder. "There is still some medicine left in there. Take what you can, get the other women, and leave. This place could be teeming with Greys soon with all the blood spilt. Travel north. We're going south." Her glossy eyes drift up from her hands. Your gaze hardens. "We will kill you if we see you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she whispers.

You look away. "Salome is in the cell. Alive."

The flames lick at the chapel’s frame as you return to the others. The stone walls have blackened, the door swallowed in fire, windows shattered. The acrid stench of scorched wood and charred flesh burns your nose. The last survivors—the few men left after Price and Kyle cleared the barn—had been shoved inside with the Grey. 

You need to get out of here—away from the stench of blood. Clean water is urgent. A safe place to treat everyone's wounds, even more so. The adrenaline is wearing off, so you move quickly, pausing only to hastily dress Blue's feet and Ghost's back with medical cloth from the cabinet before continuing down the main road. While everyone yields a backpack and gun, Ghost carries Blue to his chest. He hasn't once let her go. 

The flames still flicker behind you when his grip falters. He stops to adjust her weight, and you touch his elbow, speaking low. "Let Price or Kyle carry her."

"I've got it."

You don’t press, though the gnawing concern remains. How much blood has he lost? You can only hope it's clotted enough to hold a bit longer. 

The only words Price manages are instructions—what to watch for to indicate freshwater. Downward slopes, converging animal tracks. You’re nowhere near as injured as the others, yet your thighs shake, your vision blurs, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut to regain focus. You still flinch at every sound, ready for blood.

An hour out, the sun hangs heavy. Dense vegetation and a small cliffside offer promise. Carefully, you help each other down. Ghost finally relents, letting Blue cling onto Price’s shoulders so he can manage rappelling down the rocks. You stay close without thinking, your hand ghosting over his bicep when he wavers.

Then you smell it. Water.

Relief nearly buckles your knees.

A narrow creek winds between boulders, tucked beneath towering cypresses.

Everyone washes off the blood, dulling the stench. A fire will be needed to clean it for the wounds. As you rake water through your hair, your gaze drifts upstream—where cypresses give way to ripened plum trees, bordering what seems like a property. Price sees it too. He’s already shouldering his backpack, moving to check it out.

The gown pools at your ankles, dipping into the shallow water as you cross. The property is silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of a woodpecker. You tighten your grip on the gun, scanning the unkempt garden and overgrown path leading to the estate—a summer home fit for a family or, as you soon realize, two wealthy old fucks. Their skeletons are all that remain inside, draped in dust like the furniture around them.

Price lowers the rifle to his side and nods in approval. "This will do."

If you could, you’d strip off the stained gown and shut your eyes. Instead, you follow Ghost as he kicks open doors—nothing but a bathroom and parlor. On the second floor, the first door to meet his boot reveals a bedroom. You shake the dust from the quilt, and he carefully lays Blue down. You're already sifting through the backpack.

Ghost kneels to take her feet. He fumbles with the cloth, exhaustion stealing motor function. You help, unveiling the jagged cuts edged with dirt. Ghost grits, "They did this?"

"I did," she whispers. "I hoped you'd find me... and the Greys... they got distracted by my shoes."

Her words linger as you dab alcohol onto a strip of cloth. "This will hurt," you whisper, biting your cheek.

Ghost grips her ankle to keep it still and takes her hand, offering something to squeeze. At first touch, her nails claw at his wrist. Her lips press tightly together to muffle a small sound that dies in her throat, and then she falls silent. Her eyes flutter shut, reopening only to release a lone tear when you finish with both, then wrap them again.

"Your arms," you say, reaching for them. One is already bandaged—must've been done by them. The other is freshly cut. When you try to look at it, she recoils, inhaling sharply.

"They did this one, didn't they?" he asks.

A slight nod of her chin.

Anger leeches from Ghost's skin.

He exhales sharply through flared nostrils, then gently takes her wrist, pressing a kiss to the skin just before the cut begins.

"Let Twix clean it, baby."

Her fist clenches before she offers you her arm. More tears cut a trail down to her lips. 

"There. Let's get you something else to wear," you breathe out, stuffing the cork back in once it's over. 

What you find in the closet is at least better than the bloodied dress she was supposed to die in—a large flannel shirt that smells like old man. Blue accepts it, but stares at the shirt in her hands for a long moment before asking Ghost to look away. He does, and you help her, keeping your eyes on hers while undressing her.

You turn to Ghost. "Your turn," you whisper.

Lowering to the bed is a great effort, one you have to steady with a hand under his armpit. As gently as possible, you peel the cloth from his back. Seeing his wounds before did nothing to prepare you for this—up close, in the unforgiving sunlight. Deep, inflamed gashes ooze fresh blood at the disruption. The stench of festering flesh makes it hard to focus as you murmur for Blue to touch his hair, distract him for the first dab of alcohol.

Where Blue was able to silence herself, he cannot. Not when it’s this bad. The terrible, wrecked groan and the violent jerk of his body make you want to disappear—to run and let someone else do this to him. But you know you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t trust anyone else to. So you steady the tremble in your fingers and continue, the room heavy with his pain. It finds its way to your back, as though someone behind you is holding a whip. The phantom pain sinks into your skin with each of his groans, forcing you to push it away to steady your hand as you work.

Blue twists her fingers in his hair, whispering in his ear. "It's almost over, dad."

By the time the wounds are cleaned, redness remains, offering little reassurance. Over a day's worth of sweat and bacteria isn't something you can simply undo. You'll need to keep an eye on them. You sift through the vials and push two painkillers to his lips, helping him sit up to swallow them. As you’re about to help him back down, he grabs onto your wrist, a pulse of pain pulling your gaze to where you slit your own vein. The linen strip is soaked through. Ghost silently unties it and reaches for the alcohol at the bedside table.

"They did that?" Blue questions from behind him.

"I did."

The pain sears as he cleans it, though it’s nothing compared to his.

When he lays back on his stomach, there’s no fighting the heaviness of his eyelids. Blue curls up beside him, wincing. You get her two painkillers as well.

"Is he going to be alright?" she asks quietly.

You pull the light quilt over her body. "His body just needs to rest. So does yours."

"That's not an answer, Twix."

The way she calls you out makes your face fall. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't know."

There is a pause of silence before she sighs audibly, arms falling flat at her sides and her gaze finding the ceiling. "I don't think I can sleep."

Your chest tightens at the thought of what she must be thinking of, what she must have seen when you weren't with her. The wounds you can't wrap up. You dig for one of the sedatives: lorazepam. "Here." 

It takes a while for it to take effect.

"You're safe," you whisper to her, over and over, tucking her hair behind her ear until you feel the subtle shift in her muscles as they slowly loosen from their panicked tension. When sleep finally comforts her, a shift in the air causes you to leap up.

"It's me," Nereida whispers, poking in her head. "The others are sleeping, too."

Right. The others. "They're alright?"

"Just a few fractured ribs."

"Someone needs to keep watch."

"I'll do it." Seeing the protest twist on your face, she adds, "You haven't slept in days."

She's right. It was impossible to sleep in that cell outside of being drugged.

You give in. "Patrol the whole property if you can. And keep track of the air. The flowers here should help mask our scent, but—"

"I've got it, Twix."

The fatigue truly hits when she leaves. You barely have enough fight in you left to peel off the stupid dress and raise another flannel shirt from the closet over your head, the hem resting above your knees. There is a chair in the room—that's where you sink down, knees tucked to your chest. At first when you close your eyes, the world is loud and red. Then, it quiets to black.

A dove call announces morning, and you jolt awake to fresh light from the window.

You fell asleep.

They've already killed her.

You didn't get there in time—

Your gaze lands on the small body lying in the bed beside a much larger one, and the panic escapes through a shaky breath. You inhale and exhale to calm your heart rate before uncurling from the chair to touch Blue's soft cheek. The skin is cool. You move to her father next. Palm to his forehead. Hot, dry skin snaps your touch away as if burning you. 

"Fucking shit," chokes out of you, along with a fresh wave of urgency. Blue stirs in her sleep. You clamp a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself and whirl out of the room. A fever: you need water. If you hadn't slept so long, you could've boiled some sooner. With the recovered energy, you race outside in the chilled morning air.

Nereida sits up from the porch.

"Good morning. You're the first one up. I haven't seen—"

"He is burning up," you seethe. "You should've waken me. I slept all through the night!"

Her eyes widen. "I didn't—"

You push past her. "I'm getting water."

She lightly touches your elbow. "I already got some from the creek. I boiled it over the fireplace." She rushes to show you the full metal pot in the kitchen. 

You don't pause to say thank you, hoisting the water upstairs to urgently wet a cloth and place it over his forehead. His lashes flutter, once, then twice, before fully opening.

"You have a fever," you exhale, swallowing hard. "I need you to drink a little."

He sits up to swallow a handful of the water from your palm, faint bobs of his throat, and you feel just how dry his lips are. His voice emerges low. "Did they have anything for it?"

"No antibiotics," you admit, swiping a thumb over the faint freckle on his temple, as if maybe, the sip of water has already changed the temperature. It hasn't. A growl pushes under your breath. "A goddamn cult who had shit to knock us out with but hardly anything to treat infections. We'll need to experiment a bit."

"Sounds promising," he manages through his teeth. He glances down at his daughter. "She's alright?"

"She's okay, not warm." You inhale sharply. "Lay down. Let me look at it again."

When he does, you gently remove the bandages and are met with yellow-green pus. The sound that fills your throat, caught between helplessness and disgust, has him popping an eye open to look back at you over his shoulder. "Sorry, it's just..." Another explicative leaves your lips, and you have to bite your cheek hard to keep from vomiting at the sight and smell. Blue is awake now, sitting up against the pillow; she need only glance over once for her face to twist in concern. 

"It's bad, isn't it?" She covers her mouth.

"I need to drain it," is what you say. Luckily, it's already oozing, saving the need to puncture the wounds open. You wet another cloth and carefully press at the swollen ridge of the first laceration, making him groan through his teeth as pus begins to run down his sides. Blue has one hand back in his hair, and uses another wet cloth to collect the pus. You keep pressing, draining each irregular wound, having to remind yourself the rotten smell being released is for the better. 

After what feels like hours, it's mostly cleared. Only a bit of swelling remains, revealing just how deeply the skin was shredded, as if slashed through repeatedly in the same spots. 

"How come you were hurt more than the others?" Blue asks him the question you've been mulling over since the moment you found him. 

"I was their favorite," he mumbles lowly. "The most handsome."

Your brows lower.

"It's not funny," she presses, nails twisting in his hair, teeth grinding. "It's infected. You could fucking die."

"I won't," he says to her, but the silent, heavy glance you exchange with him acknowledges the understanding that he very well could, deepening the harsh pit in your stomach. "We have a nurse here."

"An unlicensed one." You finish securing a new layer of cloth and lean back. "And one without real medicine." Realizing you are supposed to be reassuring her, you hide the way your nails pick each other and add, "But draining all that pus will help. Eating will help even more," you look at Blue, "For you, too."

Blue and you share a meal of wild cucumbers, strawberries, and two small field mice you catch by the creek, swiftly snapping their necks before skinning them. For Ghost, you boil the bones with garden carrots to make a broth. You have to coax him into finishing it, no matter how it tastes, promising that once it's done, he can sleep longer.

By the time the others are awake, you and Blue have failed to leave his side, simply watching the continued rise and fall of his chest as if it might halt if you look away. "Please get better," you catch her murmuring. The only time you go is to speak with Price, informing him that Ghost is in no condition to travel again. 

"Twix," he interrupts you, the knowing tick in his brow, and worn smile, making you realize you'd been rambling, your tone coming off a bit accusatory. "I have no intention for us to continue yet. No one is ready for it. We need food, and rest."

You release a filtered sigh, nodding. "I can help hunt, I just need to—"

A firm hand finds your shoulder. His seafoam eyes glance past you at the door to the bedroom, then back into your gaze, low voice barely above a murmur. "You've done more than enough. Let us take care of the food. Just make sure we don't lose him, alright?"

You nod, and when he turns to leave, you mutter to yourself, "I'm trying."

You spend the evening refreshing his bandages, and draining the new wave of pus. You have the idea to look for onions in the garden, remembering they have antimicrobial properties, but there aren't any. So you clean the wounds again with a flush of water, and also scrub his dirty hair a bit. Your brain must be tricking you, because once when you touch him it feels like his fever has at least dropped a degree or two, but then a minute later it feels like it went up more. There is practically no color to his skin except the angry red of his wounds, and the rosy sheen on his cheeks. Other than that he is a pale ghost. It's as if your efforts haven't done a thing.

Frustration strangles your lungs, and you palm at your forehead. His body, deprived of sleep and nutritions for days, is struggling to bounce back, to fight off the encroaching bacteria. His unyielding strength is yielding; succumbing. He needs more food and water. You try to sit him up again, retrieving a small bit of leftover broth, but he is unable to help pull his weight.

"Come on, Simon. Please."

He's too heavy for you, even with Blue pulling at his other arm.

You hurry out of the room and call for Price. He and Nereida are there quickly, his rifle ready. "No, I just need—I need you to lift him."

Price drops the gun to steady Simon up despite the heavy hiss of protest. "Gotta eat, Simon."

He holds him as you spoon broth to his mouth, having to rub at his jaw to release enough tension for him to open it and swallow. 

The room is quiet once it's all done, and Nereida stands in the doorway with her head hung low. Price carefully lays him back down so as not disturb the work you've done to his back. He glances at the empty bowl in your hands. "Kyle cut up some squirrels he killed earlier. I'll tell him to make more broth with them in the morning."

All you can do is nod and pass the bowl to him.

When they leave, the heaviness in the room has Blue picking at her wrist. You take her hand, placing another painkiller and sedative in them, and urge her to lay down for more rest.

"I'll stay up with him, alright?"

Her chin drops, and she stares blankly at the quilt. "What happens to me if he dies?"

The hollowness in her voice cuts through you. "We can't think like that," you murmur, refusing to acknowledge how terrified the answer makes you.

"Why not?" Her eyes blaze in the dark. "It's a possibility. I've never seen him like this before."

You shake your head, touching two fingers under her jaw to tilt it up so yours eyes meet. "He's stubborn, like you. And he has too much to live for. He loves you."

She looks away. "I'm not like him. I wouldn't be able to keep going on my own."

"You’ll never be on your own. He and I... we will always come for you," you swear, your voice firmer than you intend. You soften it to a whisper, breathing out, "But even if you were, you’re smarter and stronger than anyone here. There’s nothing you can’t handle, Blue. It was you who kept yourself alive this time."

"It was just luck," she murmurs, curling a fist into the sheet below her. She peers back at you. "If you guys hadn’t found me, I would’ve been bitten to death."

"No," you insist. "It wasn’t luck. You survived because you saw the opportunities, and you took them. You made time for us to find you. You are just like him."

Emotion floods through you, thick and reeling. Without thinking, you pull her into a solid hug, pressing your nose to her scalp. "You’re just like him," you whisper again, screwing your eyes shut. White-hot tears escape, burning a quiet trail down your cheeks, and you feel her begin to tremble in your arms, silently soaking your shirt with her own tears.

Through them, she manages to whisper, twisting your shirt in her fists, "I-I don't want him to leave me again. H-he said he wouldn't."

"He won't," you promise, struggling to catch your breath through a choke, the words rushing out of you. "Never again. I won't let it happen."

After minutes, hours, like this, she grows limp with exhaustion, and you lay her back down, tucking her under the quilt and wiping your cheeks. 

You resume position in the chair by Ghost. 

This time, you refuse to close your eyes, locking them onto him—the way his cheek is squished against the pillow, the bare stretch of his arm, the curve of his ribs where an old scar splits into the new ones. You keep pulling the blanket over him, thinking maybe the extra heat will break his fever, only to rip it back off moments later, convinced the cool night air would be better. Frustration burns behind your eyes as you rub them hard, then press your forehead against the uninjured part of his shoulder.

“Goddamn it, Simon,” you whisper, pulling back just enough to trace your thumb over the freckles there, connecting them with soft, absentminded sweeps of your finger.

It must be well into the night when sleep threatens with a pull at your lids, and again, you see red. Blood-red. Like the burst of an open throat. You reopen them and jolt up to your feet, panting hard. The need for a distraction to keep yourself awake pulls you out of the room for a stretch of your legs, pupils straining against the dark hall as you stumble through it, crossing your arms over yourself. You've barely looked through this place besides what was necessary, so it's a surprise when you happen upon a spiral staircase going up, not down. 

A cool metal rail bites your fingertips as you heave upward, revealing a small attic library. Dark oak shelves reach the low ceiling, all of the leather spines neatly alined as if never having been touched even once: a capsule of time. A large window at the far end offers enough moonlight for your eyes to scan the embellished spines as you brush a finger over them, various French titles staring back at you. You work your way to the window, where the thin curtain is parted just enough to allow you a view of the creek, cliffside, and dark horizon where stars disappear into distant earth. 

"I should've killed them." The words barely leave your lips before the stench of burning flesh fills your senses. Your hands shake violently. With a sudden, forceful yank, you tear the curtain from the rod. Your voice cracks, rising. "I should have killed them. All of them. I shouldn't have let a single one walk away."

You spin around and begin pulling books off the shelves, ripping at pages, thrashing them at the floor with a cacophony of thuds, until only half are left untouched. The years-old dust caking the covers explodes into your eyes, stinging them, and tears begin to fall, the painful kind. They come hard, ragged, anything but quiet. You sink to the oriental rug, burying your face into your knees and hugging them close as you sob through your teeth, scraping your nails into your shins.

You imagine all their faces: the blonde man who tortured them, the old woman you only saw once when they took Blue, all the pretty eyes beneath the stupid veils. In your head, you slash all of them to pieces. Shreds. Torn nerves and burst eyes. Until you are swimming in their entrails. 

There is a voice. In your head maybe. But no, it's real—someone touches your shoulder, and you flinch. You lift your gaze, and through it, make out the shape of warm, almond eyes, one of them half-opened beneath a swollen bruise.

Kyle kneels beside you. He doesn't say anything, just sits there, his knee touching yours the only point of connection. When your crying subsides, you feel a tinge of embarrassment at the state he's found you in, and wipe at your cheeks. "Sorry. I woke you up."

"I was already awake."

Silence hums between you, and he thoughtlessly picks up one of the books, thumbing through the pages, then quietly closes it.

"We all owe you our lives, you know. Nereida told us about all you did."

You dig your chin into the tops of your knees and stare off at the wall. "I still didn't do enough."

"You're doing all you can." His gaze pierces into the side of your face, making you feel translucent. "He'll be alright. Always is."

You don't know what to say to that, sighing through flared nostrils and looking down at your feet before over at him. "How is Ari?"

"He's alright. Just shaken, I think. Thank you for asking." A tinge of guilt finds you that you haven't checked on them enough. Ari, just a boy, and he's hardly crossed your mind through any of this.

"You know," Kyle continues quietly, his knuckles whitening around the book. "When we were in there, I didn’t know what to say to get him through it—because I couldn't see much hope myself. I had to watch, do nothing, while they made him memorize that goddamn book just to earn a meal. And he wasn’t allowed to share any with me." He lets out a short, bitter snort. "I've never felt so fucking weak. So powerless. Watching someone you love suffer, not knowing how to help them..." His gaze locks onto yours. "That has to be a pain worse than any torture."

His words catch you off guard, stirring something deep and unformed. All you can do is reach for him, gripping his shoulders in a firm hug, evening your heart rate. He murmurs a promise about the broth, his hand brushing your shoulder before he excuses himself. Returning to the bedroom, you check their pulses—her pinky curled around his in sleep. You press a kiss to Blue’s hair, then, without thinking, let your lips brush her father's fevered temple.

[muqingslover]

[ I've seen how Caleb is often described to be a sex god without any experience at every first time (and I eat it up) but I also think we should discuss the other side of it. Kinda of an addition to my previous post ]

Let's discuss virgin Caleb that since he hit puberty has been struggling with his own desires and when he finally received the green light from you it's like a dam was unleashed.

This man is BEYOND sensitive. And so damn needy too, to the point that greedy would be a much more suitable word for him.

He started having wet dreams about you after the first kiss and the walk of shame to the bathroom every morning to wash his boxers is very real.

He's got a leaking and painful boner every time you kiss him for a little too long and he can't get enough of the taste of your tongue on his.

Having you on his lap is both bliss and torture. He'd try to hide the fact he's hard the first few times, not wanting to scare or pressure you, but each time your hips pressed down against his boner he'd be rolling his eyes back into his head and forcing down a groan.

I'm a dry-humping truther and I firmly believe the first time he came with you was by rubbing himself against your leg like the dog he is while you two were making out.

Caleb is mortified about his first experience with a blow job and he wishes you'd forget such an embarrassing moment of him.

But in all honesty, it wasn't his fault. You offered out of nowhere, which left him no time to mentally prepare, and just by having you kneeling down in front of him with your hand wrapped around his cock had him gripping the edge of the desk behind him, to the point the wood creaked at the sheer pressure.

And when you licked along the precum that was dripping down his length and pushed your tongue against his swollen tip he came and he came hard. His cum coating your face, getting onto some parts of your hair and in your mouth.

It goes without saying that he spent the rest of the day apologizing, but the sight of you swallowing his cum that had gotten onto your lips made him dizzy and hard again.

I'm sure he'll be fantastic in bed eventually, but your first time is a mess. Literally. Caleb is so eager to explore the body he's desired for so long and to please you as much as you do to him.

Everywhere he can reach is littered with dark and very obvious hickeys.

He'd have your hands pinned next or above your head so you couldn't touch him otherwise he knows he won't last at all.

Though, all his efforts bear no fruit because the second this man bottoms out inside of your warm and tight insides he is cumming again.

His body would tremble as he held his entire weight on his forearms to not crush you and he bit down on his lips.

After switching condoms, you'd have to get on top while his shaky legs recover from his orgasm and oh gods he's really trying his fucking best right now.

He's panting against your neck when you roll your hips and cause a loud moan to escape his lips, followed by his strong arms wrapping around your middle like a bear hug as if to keep himself grounded. It's rather cute, really.

He'd come with you this time, if not a little before from you clenching around his cock and the sweet whimpers because he's oh so very sensitive.

His hands would feel up your thighs then shamelessly grab your ass while he looked up at you, loving the view of you on top of him and he's got the cockiest grin you've ever seen on his face.

Now we're talking about someone with YEARS of suppressed sexual desires so you better brace yourself because he's far from done.

Caleb would use the entire night to learn everything he possibly can about your body, besides what he already knew. Each sweet spot that make you cry so good for him and just how deep he can hit inside of you to have you gasping for more.

He's sloppy, he's desperate, he's pathetic and it's messy. He'd ask between shaky breaths and his tone is almost whiny "Does that good? I need you to talk to me sweetheart, c'mon."

"Tell me what you want and I'll do it. Teach me how to make you feel good."

"Can I go deeper? Fuck- Please? Please? you feel so good-"

"I can't stop— Just one more, I'll make it good for you too, please, gods please, I need more of you or I'll go insane."

Caleb is the type of pathetic loser that would get a nosebleed while he pounded into you for the nth time.

He'd kiss you when you showed concern, spit trickling down your chin as the taste of iron would spread on your tongue before he pulled away to admire the sight of you completely disheveled for him. Because of him.

He licks the few drops on your chest, the crimson smearing with the sweat glistening on your skin and leaving a trail that only added to the perverted satisfaction that you're his.

Almost every position is crossed off the list in a single night and he's willing to do anything you ask of him. You want to ride him again? He's sat. You want him to hit it from the back? He's got you on your hands and knees already. You want him to eat you out? Please, by all means take a seat on his face. You have complete control over everything that happens most of the time.

It's morning by the time you two pass out, or run out of condoms in the box honestly, but you can fully expect him to try something when he gets into the shower with you the next day. Hey, he's just helping you clean up like a good boyfriend should ;) .

[monstersholygrail]

How Your Monster Bf Asks You To Be His Valentine

Dragon bf spends all night clearing out part of the woods in front of your shared home cave, carefully swiping down trees with his giant claws. Then when it’s all perfect he uses his fire breath to form a giant heart in the grass. The words ‘Be My Valentine?’ Etched within the heart. He then sets out a whole breakfast picnic feast for you to enjoy together at sunrise.

When the time comes he wakes you up softly and guides you to the edge of your cave, claws hovering over your eyes. His surprise takes your breath away and you waste no time in accepting, jumping straight into his arms and kissing the daylights out of him.

You two honestly can’t even take your hands off of each other as you try and eat your picnic breakfast. Before you know it, Dragon bf is squirting whip cream over your nipples and lapping it up with his long dragon tongue. Kissing and nipping his way down your body, licking up all the sugary goodness along your curves before his tongue dives down between your thighs. He spends so many hours down there you have to hold onto his horns to steady yourself. Bringing you over the edge again and again, making you weak and breathless. Claiming he has to lick up all the food from your plush form, and what greater meal is there than the taste of your release?

Werewolf bf waits eagerly for you to wake up, desperate to show you what he has planned. When you finally do wake up he hands you a note with a clue on it. Each clue leading you to a memorable place you and werewolf bf had sex. And of course, your bf insists you recreate it for this special occasion, leaving you two to rush around town fucking each other silly.

Each orgasm leading you to grow weaker as the closer you get to the end, the harder he ruts into you. The more this goes on the more you start to feel like a dog playing catch. But seeing your boyfriend’s excitement you don’t have the heart to stop.

Eventually you two reach the club where you two had sex for the very first time. You can hear your boyfriend’s tail wagging behind you, the hard thwack echoing out as it bumps into everything in his path. When you walk in the club is empty but there’s a table in the middle of the dance floor and a banner that says ‘Will You Be My Valentine?’

Your heart nearly bursts with happiness as you tell him that of course you will! He lets out a needy whimper and practically attacks you, pouncing on you and pinning you down against the table. He’s sliding his still hard cock back inside you like it’s been seven years since he’s last taken you and not seven minutes. He fucks you so hard, just too damn happy you said yes, that when you hear the table make a suspicious snapping sound, he doesn’t even stop. He simply picks you up and keeps going until you cum all over his knot.

Naga bf suggests a nice romantic game night for the two of you. It’s not something you two always do, so the change in plans was a welcome surprise. Of course, the romance game night quickly turned into a dirty game night. Filled with strip poker that led to passionate lovemaking and they barely got through a third round of twister before your bf was coiling his body around yours and stuff his cocks back into your overstuffed holes.

But he knew he needed to focus once you guys got to charades. It would be hard given the lust burning in your eyes but this was important to him. He holds up three fingers and you guess three words. He then starts using his tail to spell it out. You ask if that’s cheating but he couldn’t care less. Spelling out each letter of ‘Be My Valentine?’ And growing harder as you voice each one.

You immediately ask him in return, leading you to both agree at the same time like cheesiest couple that’s graced planet earth. And you should’ve expected the instantly coiling of his tail around your body but you still yelp in surprise and he swallows it with a fierce kiss. He keeps you tightly wrapped up against him as he fucks you through the rest of the night, your game night now long forgotten.

[ill0usainte]

But, we friends thou? 3k+

pairings: virgin!caleb x virgin!reader

cw: unprotected sex, mentions of condoms, college au, corruption, nipple play, dry humping, messy make out, rough sex, choking, overstimulation, rubbing, loss of virginity, dom!caleb, hentai reader!caleb, cherry popping (iykyk), both are inexperienced, stomach bulge, creampie, pet names (princess, pipsqueak, pretty girl), edging, nasty sex, no penetration, squirting, mentions of blood, crying

Caleb is known for being the heartthrob of the campus. He's everything that people want-- smart, handsome, athletic and was rumored to be "big" down there. A lot of girls in the campus have been gushing over your best friend. Many have been saying that he sleeps with different girls everytime-- but was it true?

And of course, in your part you don't get the hype about Caleb. Yeah, he's your first kiss but so what? As his best friend, you both share secrets with each other. And one secret that you've kept about him is that....

He's a virgin himself.

As cocky as he is-- of course he'd feed into those rumors about him just to boost his ego. Little do they know, he's just a virgin otaku who reads hentai mangas on his free time. At first, it did bother you that he started reading those-- but as time passed by, you got used and even shared some recommendations you've found. And started having interest of his likings.

"Have you seen the new publish?" He asked, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls. You leaned your back against your chair as you cross your arms.

"Of course, the art improved a lot" You answered, crossing your legs while Caleb shows you a panel of the erotic manga he's talking about. "You bet! It looks so realistic!" He chimed, pointing at the part where the girl was getting fucked and you can only push his phone away.

"Seriously, be glad that some of our classmates went out" You scoff, leaning against your desk as you grab your bag and started putting your textbooks inside. "Come on, I know you agree that scene was hot!" He raise his brow to tease.

"Shush" You silenced him and he only shrug in response as you continued putting your things inside your bag. You can't lie but that scene was really hot-- the way that the guy was dicking down the girl so good. Makes you wonder how would it feel like if it was you.

Your thoughts were pushed away when he interrupted. "Oh, I almost forgot" he said, straightening his back as he grab his bag and opened it. "I just finished the manga that you recommended me a few days ago" Grabbing the book from his bag as he placed it on your desk-- and you were quick to snatch it. It was embarassing the fact that the cover of the manga was a girl getting railed.

Hugging the book against your chest as you glare at Caleb and punched his shoulder, earning a grunt from him. "No need to be harsh, pipsqueak" He chuckled, as he looks at you in amusement.

You whisper curses at him as you opened your bag wider to fit the book in but something suddenly fall out.

A condom.

"Wha-" He froze, as his eyes widened-- looking at the packet of condom over your desk. Your eyes shifted to him as you look at him confused.

You hum, and followed where his gaze was at-- making your heart drop when you saw the packet of condom over your desk, you quickly grab it by your hand and shove it inside your bag. "Haha- my bad...." You chuckle awkwardly as you sweatdrop, closing your bag and rested your hands over your lap-- eyes glued to somewhere while you pretend nothing happened.

"I'm pretty sure that was a condom...?" Caleb thought, sweadropping also as he cleared his throat. But at the same time he wants to push your buttons--to see where you'd last.

"...an interesting thing you're carrying around...." He smiled, making you uncomfortable as you felt heat rising through your body out of embarrassment.

"It's just something I bought out of curiosity....." You answered, fixing your skirt because it was revealing a glimpse of your plushed thighs. Caleb noticed how you shift--only makes him want to push further. I mean maybe something might happen after this?

"Oh...I thought you're going to use it"

"Huh- haha no way...."

Awkwardness seeps between the both of you--while you try to not steal glances at the male. Inhaling deep as you question him.

"Do you have one, Caleb?" You asked.

"Have what?"

"Well...a condom?" You whisper, loud enough for him to hear as you toy with the ends of your skirt. Caleb blinks as he looks away, leaning against his desk while fidgeting his pen.

"I don't...not like I'd have a chance to use one anyway" He joked, shaking his head lightly. You nod at his words as you pursed you lips. You can't help but wonder if all of those rumors about him is true-- about "big" he was. Even though you knew he's a virgin there's still apart of you that doesn't believe that.

Class ended early as you and Caleb walked together. Talking about the new mangas that were published while enjoying each other's company.

"I swear that old man should stop giving us new assignments everyday" Caleb sneers, putting his hands behind his head while walking besides you.

"He should, I swear I noticed his bald spot earlier during lecture" You snort, making him laugh at your words as you joined.

You were glad that everything went to normal-- that Caleb forgot about that condom incident earlier. You can only swear that if he brings up the topic again you would just dig your own grave out of embarrassment.

The laughters piped down and you both continued walking together-- your eyes focused on your surroundings while Caleb on the other hand is urging to bring up the topic again.

"Hey"

"Hm?" You answered, eyes glued to the path.

"So, that condom talk earlier.." He spoke, looking somewhere while you paused. Cursing at yourself because you knew Caleb damn well--if something peeks his interest he wouldn't let go of it.

Inhaling deep as you face him--he puts his hands inside his pockets and gave you a sincere smile-- not that smile, you knew that he's plotting something which makes your body shiver at the sight of it.

"If someone were to ask you to 'use it' would you?" He asked, tilting his head as he waits for your reply. The question makes your body heat rise as you put a hand on your nape.

Letting out a soft awkward chuckle as you look at him "That's way to sudden" You mutter, making Caleb chuckle as he puts a hand over your head-- ruffling your hair.

"Like y'know, the thing I read on that manga you let me borrow" He said and your shoulders tensed up. Glaring at him as you pushed away his hand away from your head because it was messing up your hair.

"Hmp, don't bring me into your erotic fantasies" You huff, brows furrowed while you clutch onto the strap of your bag.

But the thought of it sends excitement through your body onto your clothed pussy-- I mean you'd always wondered what it feels like getting fucked and would you waste this chance? But the only problem is that, Caleb.

You can't imagine seeing your childhood best friend dick you down-- but the thought of it. Too consumed by your thoughts, Caleb pushed the topic further.

"So, what do you say?" He asked, making you snap back at your thoughts. You gulped as you look at him. Lowering your head while you fidget with your fingers-- hesitating if you're going to do it or not.

"We only live once, so risk it!" The voices in your head said in unison.

"I'll let him use it.."

It didn't take long for you two to arrive at Caleb's dorm. Feeling nervous as you try to calm yourself-- while Caleb on the other hand was all chill. You can't help but feel frustrated, can't even believe that you're going to loose your virginity to this man in front of you.

But what you didn't know, is that Caleb was more anxious than you. You both sat besides each other over the edge of his comfy bed as you clear your throat catching his attention.

"So what now...?"

"Right-- Uhm" Putting a hand over his nape as his usual sheepish attitude drains out of his body.

"...let's get naked first." It's rather a command than a question--Caleb nods at your words as he chuckle.

Pouting at him as your hand playfully pushed his face away from your direction "...I don't want you to look.." You confessed, face flustered making him smile as he hums.

"I'm still going to see you naked later, y'know that right?" He teased only for you to push him away more making him give up as you face his back.

Pursing your lips as you unbutton your top-- starting from the top to the button. Your eyes trailed to the figure in front of you-- Caleb removed his shirt in one go, revealing his well built back. And what got your attention was his muscular biceps. You can't help but stare at it but you were interrupted when you heard him talk.

"Like the view?" He chuckles, making you roll your eyes as you told him to shut up. As you finished unbutton your top, you slowly removed it from your body--leaving you just in your lacy bra hugging your plushed tits.

"Hey"

"Hm?" You hum. "Can I look?" Caleb asked, moving his head to the side a bit as he tried to get a glimpse of you behind. You quickly used your arms to hide your tits while glaring at him.

"You sound like a pervert"

"Come on, princess" He pleaded, Your gaze focused on his back as you sigh-- finally giving up as you removed your arms away from your chest. The man in front of you then quickly shifted his body to your direction-- now facing you as his eyes trailed on your plushed tits. His face flushed as he licked his lips-- letting out a soft chuckle while smiling.

"Wow....I couldn't tell at all that you're hiding something like these behind your clothes" He remarks, making you gulp as you sweat drop. "Is that so..." You mutter, lowering your head as your eyes focused on him.

Don't look at him with those eyes-- those doe innocent eyes of yours. Makes him want to bend you over and just fuck you on the spot.

Biting your lower lip as you both stare at each other. "Can..I touch them?" He asked, his hands clenching-- eager to touch your plushed tits. You nod at his words, he had to look at you again to make sure-- his hands tremble as he reached out to your tits in display.

Palm of his hands came in contact with your plushed tits as he gently massaged it-- he couldn't believe it, he's finally touching a literal tits right now. His gesture made your body squirm as you try to bit your lower lip to muffle your moans. Breathing softly as your hand reached behind your back to undo the hook of your bra. Unhooking it in one go as your bra fall from your shoulders as it spills out your bare tits to the male.

His hands continued to massage your tits, thumb toying your perked nipple as you let out a moan-- making him startle as he retrieved his hand.

"Ah- sorry" He apologize, you shook your head and reached out for his hand-- bring it back to your tits. "N-no...you can touch them however you like" You mutter, making Caleb gulp as he starts to feel heat gushing through his body. You're definitely putting fuel to the fire.

Caleb is anxious as he continued massaging your tits with both of his hands-- thumb rubbing circles and pinching your perked nipples earning sweet whimpers and moans from you. The sight makes his cock harden inside his pants-- he can't help but feel aroused seeing you so sensitive to his touch-- so needy.

Your soft moans occupied Caleb's mind-- your moans can't even compare to those erotic hentais he watched, yours is too hot-- like music to his ears. You blabber words at him but he's not listening at all-- too focused on fundling your tits.

You can't help but feel satisfaction that you're able to fill his thoughts-- smirking as you look at him with your hazy eyes. "Are they your satisfaction, miste--?" Your words were cut off when Caleb suddenly lounged at you and pinned you down over his bed. Both of his palm holds your wrists at both side as his soft lips latched onto your tits earning a yelp from you while you squirmed.

"W-wait-..Caleb--!" But he doesn't budge, continuing to suck your sensitive tits as his hot tongue swirls around your perked nipple making your toes curl. His other hand lets go of your left wrist as he reached out to your thigh and places it on the side of his hip. Positioning his hardened cock against your clothed pussy.

Feeling the arousal gushing through your aching pussy as you feel him grind his hardened bulge against your wet clothed pussy. Finally removing his hand from your other wrist as it moves to your left tit and massaged it while he sucked on the other one. Your hands run through his black lock and tried to push him away from your tits--but he wouldn't, still latching on it like a hungry mad man.

"Ngh-! Too much...C-Caleb....Caleb-!" You moan, as your hands cup his cheeks pushing his face away-- he finally gives up, earning a loud 'pop' when he pulls away from your perked tits. Cupping his cheeks as you can see drool from the side of his mouth making you grunt as you noticed how he filled your tits with his saliva.

"Please..." He pleads softly, rubbing his cheek against your palm like a cat begging its owner for food. His muscular arms sneaks behind your back as he wraps it around your waist-- burying his face against your tits. Where did the usual cocky Caleb go?

Letting a soft whimper as you feel him grind against your wet clothed pussy-- shamelessly. Caleb lift his head up as he looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Wanna put it in so bad....but..."

"I don't want to rush you" He exhales, while your heart flutters in awe. Caleb has always been prioritizing your needs other than his-- he wants to make you comfortable, he's not the type to rush you to do things. You flutter your lashes as you lean closer-- connecting your soft lips to his, Caleb melts against your warmth as he relaxes, continuing to grind slowly against you.

His hand reached to the waistband of your skirt along with your lacy panties as he slowly pulls it down-- discarding it on the floor. Pulling back from the kiss as you both pant-- your tongue sticking out as a string of saliva connects to both of your tongue. You're such a hot mess for Caleb-- it makes his cock twitch even more.

"So sensitive just for me...."

His fingers brushed away some strands of your hair from forehead-- you blink, noticing a wet patch on his gray sweats, your eyes then trailed on the visible bulge in front of you. Making your wet pussy twitch.

Caleb is not experienced--but he learned a lot from those hentai mangas he read. And of course a key to start off railing a girl aka his best friend is to penetrate their aching pussy first. He said to his mind.

While you on the other hand was eager-- already wanting to be dicked down by Caleb. Want him to stretch your virgin aching pussy so bad.

"Caleb"

"Yes, princess?"

"Please fuck me"

His brows raise in surprise as he looks at you "But, I need to penetrate you first-- it might hurt if we're going straight at it" He said, tone laced with worry. He feels like he's rushing you-- he doesn't want to.

Feeling embarrassed as you looked away "It's okay...I can handle it" You whisper, your cheeks flushed red. Caleb is having mixed feelings-- he never seen you so vulnerable, so submissive towards him. He can't help but want to abuse the control he has over you.

He clicks his tongue as he chuckled-- grabbing your hand and intertwined it with his, kissing the top of it as his eyes locked on yours.

"You're going to take it like a good girl." It wasn't a question-- your mind goes hazy, all you can think of is being intoxicated with the heat of both of your bodies. You flutter your eyes at him and nod-- following his order like a puppy.

He lets go of your hand and slowly pulls down his sweats-- leaving him with his boxers, you can't help but look at his visible bulge. Oh he's hard-- very hard. You gulped at the sight of it, noticing a wet patch on the part where his tip is-- already oozing pre-cum.

"Don't stare at me like that" He snorts, grabbing both of your thighs-- hands gripping the plushed flesh as he placed it on the side of his hips.

Pulling down his boxer as his hardened cock bounced up against his pelvis-- your eyes widened when you see his cock in display.

You felt embarrassed-- those rumors were indeed true. Caleb's cock is thick and long-- you can see visible veins lining while his angry red tip is already oozing cum.

"W-wait-!" You breathe out when you see him position his aching cock against your hardened clit.

You both locked eyes-- his eyes were filled with love and lust while he continued on rubbing circles against your hardened clit using his tip-- using the pre cum as a lubricant to make it slippery to rub on.

"Let me take care of you..." He muttered, rubbing his tip against your wet pussy lips-- smearing his cum all over it. Earning moans from you as your toes curl, feeling his gritty cock run against your folds to your hardened clit. It sends arousal to your throbbing wet pussy.

Caleb lets out soft grunts and moans as he holds his hardened cock with his palm, pumping it up and down while pressing it against your clit-- making your body twitch with every stroke.

He fastened his pace of rutting his aching cock against your hardened clit. "F-fuck-- I haven't even got inside of you..and I'm already a mess with just rubbing it against your pussy..." He growled, continuing to rut against you making your eyes roll as you felt the bed shaking.

Breathing heavily while you endure the friction against your hardened clit to your puffy slit--a drooling mess as he mixed his pre cum and your juices together and smearing it all over your poor pussy.

Feeling the arousal rising-- you can feel your climax taking over, too overstimulated as you're eager to cum. But just right after you felt the walls of your pussy throb as it ready to release--Caleb stopped rutting his angry tip against your hardened clit. Making you whine in return while you look at him with your glassy eyes.

"W-wha- why--,?" You complained, looking at him while he brushed some strands of his hair sticking out of his sweaty forehead. Panting heavily as his gaze towards you darkened. He lets out a husky chuckle while kneading the plush of your thigh with his hand.

"it'd be a waste if I'd cum outside, right? " He whispered, leaning close to you as your perked tits were pressed against his chest. Feeling his hot breathe against your skin-- making you hitch, your ears perked when you hear him reach out to your bag placed over the nightstand beside.

Even feeling intoxicated, you moved your head where his hand was reaching at-- you quickly grabbed it as you pull it away from your bag. Making Caleb confused as he breathes.

"What?" He stopped reaching out to the condom inside your bag-- you pulled his hand away as you guide it towards your lips. Placing kisses against his fingers with your soft lips while you look at him with your hazy eyes-- just filled with words unsaid. And for Caleb it just translates into "raw, next question"

The sight makes him aroused as he shook his head lightly. "Too impatient? Bad girls like you needs to be punished" He said-- voice low and husky as he slowly pulls away his hand from your grasp and pulls in down-- tracing your chin to your neck.

You bit your lower lip-- you try to hide the fact that you're getting more hornier seeing Caleb being so dominant towards you. But your fucked up face didn't helped. You yelped when you felt his veiny hand grab your neck as his grip tightens--not in a way that you couldn't breathe.

"I'll make sure to fuck you so good-- shit, even better than the ones I've read." He chuckles, making your mouth agape as he pressed your legs against your perked tits. His other hand holds his gritty cock as he positioned it against your drooling slit.

Your heart beats faster-- too anxious and aroused at the same time, while you wonder if his cock would even fit inside your tight little pussy. Too occupied with your thoughts, you suddenly felt him push hit tip inside your tight hole-- causing your eyes to widen as you let out a grunt.

"ngh-! I-i...I don't think it will fit--! Ah!" You moaned, feeling him force his tip to stretch out your tight hole. His hand tightened more around your neck as he chuckles."H-hah-- it's just the tip and you can't handle it?"

"fuck, I wonder what would it be like if I slam my whole cock inside?"

Tears stream down your cheeks while you drool. Seeing him having a hard time pushing his gritty cock inside your pussy--earning loud moans from you while you endure the way his tip is stretching your little hole.

"'ts hurt...s-so much.." You babble, as you bit your lower lip. Caleb pants, as he slowly pushed his gritty cock even more-- your tight hole finally swallowing his whole tip. Even with just the tip inside of you, makes Caleb want to cum and make a mess out of you.

"f-fuck--!"

It's so warm-- he feels like he's in bliss of ecstasy. The way the walls of your warm tight pussy is hugging his tip so good while it throbs-- is such a euphoric feeling. Shit, he can't even describe what he's feeling right now, finally having to empty his balls in a literally pussy and not with those hentai mangas he reads.

You cried out while Caleb drill his gritty cock inside your warm tight pussy. Both of your bodies tremble, his hand finally letting go of your neck as it joins to hold both of your thighs together and pressed it against your tits. You finally exhales as you try to catch your breath-- hands gripping the covers of the bed tightly.

"nghhhh-! Hah- 'ts hurt so much, I can't-!"

"Fuck!" You screamed, feeling his whole cock slide inside of you so quick-- tears streamed even more as you cry out, grunting as you felt the pain of his gritty cock stretching your tight pussy so good. You drool as you try to process of what happened, feeling a hot liquid oozing out of your entrance.

"S-shit, tight hole finally swallowed me whole" he chuckles, eyes looking down at your pussy sucking him. Blood dripping out of your entrance--just like what he saw on every hentai mangas he read, a cherry pop. His hand reached for your clit as he rubbed circles against it-- making your legs tremble.

"'m gonna start movin', 'kay?" He muttered making you nod as you swallow your cries. He leans close to you-- kissing your forehead as brushed some strands of your hair away. Forehead against each other as his lips slammed to yours. Pulling you into a heated kiss--pushing his hot tongue inside your mouth, as he explored every part.

You moaned between the kiss as you feel him pump his gritty cock in and out of your tight pussy. He was only pushing a small distance inside your pussy--trying to stretch you slowly before he dicks you down for real. You swallow his cock so good, he can't help but grunt each time the walls of your warm pussy throbs--on how it hugs his fat cock so well.

Angry red tip kissing the lips of your womb as he continued on with his pace-- you felt a knot forming inside while gushing an upcoming climax through your throbbing pussy.

Hot tongues dances and swirls with each other-- leaving you both in drooling mess while you suck on his tongue. This was different from the first kiss you two shared-- this isn't a small peck anymore this is one nasty heated make out.

Hot bodies against each other-- you can't feel your juices oozing out of your pussy as it soaks the covers of the bed, leaving a nasty mess under.

His thumb continued on rubbing your hardened clit-- using your juices as a lubricant for it to be slipper to move on. Your body twitches when you felt him pinched your clit, earning a soft whimper from you.

He pulls away from the kiss, smearing your drool to the side of your mouth while you pursed your lips. Just right after that you yelped as you felt him fastening his pace of fucking your tight pussy. You cried out, your hands wrapping around his chest while you dig your nails against the flesh of it-- earning a grunt from him.

"fuck-- ha- how d-does it feel? Seeing your best friend taking your virginity" He snickered, the fucking is so sloppy-- you hear the sound of your pussy slapping against his pelvis-- causing clap sounds.

"'ts so fuckin- hot- ngh-- dicking you down"

The gushing of your blood and juices mixed together as he fucks it back in-- you can feel your climax on its edge, ready to release. You babble nonsense while you cry against the crook of his neck. Sticky body against each other while he plants kisses over your face.

"cum--! Cumming-!" You screamed out, tightening your legs wrapped around his hips as Caleb continued to drill his cock inside of you relentlessly-- stretching your walls so good as his cock fills every part of it.

You bit down his neck and cried, releasing your high as it squirts against his cock and pelvis. Your pussy is definitely designed just to be a cocksleeve for his fat gritty cock.

"hah-...cum for me, pretty girl"

Poor you, your mind is occupied of Caleb's fat cock. It amuses him that you're a blabbering mess-- just letting out words like "too much, hurts, Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, cumming-, cum, Caleb" and he loves you for that. Because it means he dicking you down so good-- it made you feel like you're in cloud 9.

Caleb grunts as he felt your hot juices against his cock-- squirting endlessly as it drips down like a waterfall. He can feel your hot breathe against the crook of his neck while you sob, but he doesn't stopped there.

"d-dont be passing out-- h-hah..on me" He muttered, pulling out his whole cock out as he slams it back in-- he continues his rhythm as his fast pace remains unchanged. Fucking you like a dog in heat and like there's no tomorrow.

"no more-! Ngh-! Caleb--!"

He continued drilling his fat cock inside while your mind goes hazy as you feel like passing out. Caleb's breathing unsteadies, feeling his throbbing cock twitching inside of you as he pump it in and out-- he can feel his climax building up to his tip. His thumb pushed down his bulge against your stomach as he continues fucking you-- feeling his tip hit against the walls of your stomach.

The walls of your throbbing pussy tightened around his fat cock-- preparing for another release. He felt it too, causing him to let out a hoarse grunt as he continued to rut inside. "Fuck..fuck fuck-- I-I'm cumming, pretty girl"

"w-where-" Before he could finish his sentence you replied quick.

"I-inside!"

And with that, Caleb lets out a soft whimper-- shooting loads and loads of his thick hot cum inside your tight pussy, painting the walls white as he fucks it even more inside of your womb. Following, you release your high, squirting as it drips down out of your pussy--oozing along with his cum.

Caleb hugs you against him as his body trembles still shooting more loads inside your aching pussy as it tightens around his fat cock. You hugged him back, feeling you clench around him as your mind went blank--too cockdrunk to say anything as you let him be.

Let him give you a creamy creampie on your first sex.

He collapsed over your body, face against the crook of your neck as you felt his hot breathe against your skin. You squirmed as you felt his hot cum leaking out of your tight entrance--dripping down to your legs and to the covers of the bed.

Caleb looks over you as he caress your cheek, thumb brushing your eye as you closed your eyes--melting through his warmth while you softly sigh.

But oh...he's not done yet.

"Let's....hit it from the back. Want to see your ass clap, pretty girl.."

Don't worry, you'd get used to it. After all, that's what friends do.

This isn't proofread, sorry if there are mistakes T_T

masterlist

[brainfuzz]

Beekeeper here.

Yes, I do crush queen cells sometimes. There's no egg/larva/queen in them and crushing the cell helps prevent swarming. When I open the hive and see queen cells - assuming everything else is fine with the bees - it can indicate they're running out of room and want to split. The solution to that is to give them more space. If they're not out of space, I won't crush the cell because they may know something I don't; the queen is getting old, she's a bad layer (you can check for this) or they just don't like her.

You can also squish a queen if the bees are aggressive, she's not laying well or other reasons. I haven't done this because you have to make sure there's a way for the bees to raise a replacement, and none of my hives have had issues that would be solved by re-queening.

Spare queens are often killed by the hive itself. They'll raise a couple of queens and the first one that comes back mated wins. You can only have one queen in a hive. Professional beekeepers will sometimes raise the spares and sell them to other beekeepers to requeen a queenless hive.

Drones always die during mating. That is literally their only purpose in life, is to find a fuck a queen. Much like when a drone stings you, their penis and associated organs come out when they ejaculate, killing them.

"Bee pheromones" are used when trying to catch a swarm. You can put lemon grass oil in a swarm box, and the bees will tend to go there instead of other places. Free bees!

Commercial beekeepers who raise bees and queens for sale, will try to control the type of bee their queen mates with. I live in the northeast and have cold harsh winters. I do not want bees that were bred for Florida. The bee supplier I use is very careful to breed their bees with bees from my area so I have winter hardy bees.

And no beekeeper, commercial or otherwise, will ever cull a healthy hive. The only time to kill an entire hive is if the hive is infect with American Foulbrood, which is very contagious and has no cure. If you get AFB in your hive, you not only cull the hive, you dig a pit, put the entire hive boxes in it, and light that shit on fire. You lose a lot of equipment and as a result, beekeepers are very much on top of any outbreaks.

The "culling during the winter" thing may simply be a misunderstanding because beekeeping has an extremely high attrition rate. Something like 60% of your hive will not make it through the winter. This means you have to buy new bees in the spring, and generally a hive's first year is spent getting established, and you don't get a lot, if any, honey from that hive. I've ordered new bees for the spring assuming that not all of my hives will survive the winter. If they do, then great, I get to expand. If they don't, well I have new bees to try again. Each starter hive, or nucleus hive, costs me $235. If you intentionally kill your bees and you're trying to make money off them, you'll be operating in the red. Even if you take the honey that was supposed to feed the bees over winter, it won't be enough to cover that cost year after year.

So yeah, that's all bullshit. Go take an intro to beekeeping class if you want to know the facts. Or just read a current book maybe.

Wild that folks keep saying beekeepers abuse bees as if bees are not both venomous flying animals and fully unionized

[partiallysame]

Baby…. I am OBSESSED with everything you write!!! Can we get married?

So many thought about being Prices lil wife. Does wifey ever come to base to drop of anything? We all know the recruits would be drooling….

First of all the 'baby' im flustered. never been a 'baby' type but did i leave this in my asks to come back and look at it? maybe definitely. Also baby from someone younger than me?? please marry me sweetheart.

Ok ok ok I think Price’s lil wife used to stop by the base often maybe back when they were engaged or freshly married, before Price was put in charge of the 141. The first time you were there, he brought you. Wanted to show his missus where he works and spends his time when he’s away from her. So the first time anyone ever saw you, was arm in arm with Captain Price, a lil against regulations to show pda in uniform but he’s the Captain afterall. Then after that when you’d stop by to bring your husband some lunch, when you walked the halls alone, the recruits would fight each other to be your guide (no civilians walking alone). Alone time with a pretty girl? Please. Get in the good graces of the Captain’s wife. God yes. Maybe the 3rd or 4th time Price had to remind whichever young buck was staring at you in his office that they were dismissed (get the fuck out kid) Price decided he needed to be the one to come to the gate to get you. But that's no fun, you liked watching the young soldiers stutter over their words around you, nothing wrong with a little ego boost. Price was possessive, not jealous he didn’t care about that. But then you were there a couple times a week and now everyone knew you, not necessarily a bad thing until Price overheard some low rank losers talking about the many things they’d like to do to you in bed, he had enough. They were punished to the point they requested a new position away from him and your husband banned you from coming to base. Boooo. (He may or may not have fucked you in everyway he heard his soldiers describing that night)

[greengoblinswifey]

His Valentine—Hwang In-Ho/Front Man x Fem!Reader

summary— As Valentine’s day approaches, the man who saved you from the Squid Game and your debts once again proves he’d do anything to make you feel adored and cherished.

warnings— mention of dead parents, praise kink, fluff, slight sugar baby undertones, dry humping, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— Man, fuck Valentine’s day🙏🏽

Your life had always been a struggle, one that built up until you found yourself participating in the Squid Game. The debt left by your deceased parents was overwhelming, and with no other options available, you had no choice but to participate in the game that would either kill you or change your life forever.

But then came him. Hwang In-ho, someone who had been watching from behind the scenes, someone you hadn’t known was there, someone who made sure you survived, even when you didn’t know you had an angel watching over you. He saw you. He admired you. And when the final game ended and you were left standing, he didn’t let you walk away alone. He pulled you from that world and offered you a chance at life, a life away from the games, away from the debts that had once nearly swallowed you whole.

He paid for everything, your bills, your rent, the necessities of life that you’d never been able to afford. Everything was taken care of. He made sure you had everything you needed. No more worrying about where the next meal was coming from, no more fearing that the debt collectors would come knocking again. You were safe and free.

But freedom came with a price. He was the front man, the person behind the games, the one who controlled everything. The one who allowed people to die for entertainment. The morality of his life was a complicated thing, but with you, he was gentle. He was kind. He was the best boyfriend you could have ever asked for, always caring for you in ways you didn’t know you deserved.

As Valentine’s Day approached, you knew he would do something grand. He always did. But still, you had never been in a relationship like this before, never had a boyfriend who took care of you in such luxurious ways. You’d never had anyone to spoil you like he did. You’d always been on your own, scraping by, but with him, it was different. So when Valentine’s morning arrived, you hadn’t even realized it. The bed beside you was empty, but you didn’t think much of it. He had work to do, important things. You got ready, figuring it would be like any other day.

Then you walked into the kitchen, and your breath caught in your throat.

There, on the counter, sat an enormous bouquet of roses. You stood frozen, staring at the card in your hands.

Will you be my Valentine?

Your heart raced. You couldn’t believe it. You had never had someone give you something so extravagant, so perfect.

Before you could fully take it all in, you felt a presence behind you. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a warm embrace.

“You really are the sweetest,” you whispered.

In-ho chuckled softly, his breath tickling against your ear. “I’m glad you like it,” he murmured. “I’ve got some business to take care of today, but tonight, I’m all yours.”

You smiled as you kissed him on the cheek, knowing that despite his dangerous responsibilities, he always made you feel safe. He was always there, always thoughtful.

“I can’t wait,” you said softly.

Later, when you went downstairs, a car was waiting for you, and when you got inside, In-ho was there with a smile that made your heart flutter. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said as he opened the door for you.

He’d thought of everything, always one step ahead. The restaurant was chic, upscale, everything you’d never imagined for yourself. When you arrived at the table, there were bags waiting for you, each one filled with extravagant gifts. Designer jewelry, Birkins you’d only dreamed of, expensive shoes you would have never been able to afford and yet another bouquet of roses that made you feel like you were the center of the universe. It was all so over the top, but it wasn’t the gifts that made it special, it was the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel.

He complimented you all night, making you laugh, telling you how much you meant to him. He made sure to remind you that you were more than just someone he took care of, you were someone he truly cherished. The night was perfect in a way you never thought possible. You were with him, the man who saved you, the man who had given you everything you could ever need.

By the time you got home, you were exhausted, but your heart was full. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you both lay on the couch, the soft sound of your breathing mingling in the quiet room.

“I told you,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Tonight, I’m all yours.”

And as you rested in his arms, you felt for the first time in your life, you had something that was perfect.

Now, seated on his lap in the bedroom with rose petals and candles around you, you traced your fingers over his jaw, pressing gentle kisses along his cheek, his temple, down to his neck. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For everything, In-ho.”

His hands rested firmly on your waist, holding you close. “You don’t have to thank me, love,” he murmured, brushing a hand down to your ass, squeezing gently. “You deserve this. All of it.”

“Still, I want to,” you whispered, lips inches away from his.

His grip on you tightened ever so slightly as you shifted in his lap. He let out a soft moan when you began moving on his hard, clothed cock, his hand smoothing down your back. “My pretty girl,” he murmured. “Always so ready for me.”

Your forehead was pressed against his, breath mingling as his hands traced comforting circles against your hips. You moved back and forth, pressing your pussy on his bulge, the friction against your clit sending pleasure jolting through you. “I love you,” you murmured, fingers going into his dark hair as you gripped to steady yourself.

His lips met yours in a slow, lingering kiss, fingers going to your ass as he guided you to grind. “I love you too,” he whispered, tilting his head to deepen it, savoring you. “More than you know.”

You couldn’t respond, your pussy was already quivering as his large hands cupped your ass, squeezing and coaxing you to grind faster. Small whimpers escaped your lips and you gripped his shoulder, throwing your head back.

“That’s it. Feels so good, doesn’t it love?” he said, gaze locked with yours.

“Wanna c-cum,” you moaned, grinding your hips even faster now.

“Do it sweetheart, cum for me. You’ve been such a good girl, my good girl.” His words sent you over the edge and your entire body convulsed, your release washing over you like a tidal wave.

He didn’t give you a moment to catch you breath, instead, he lifted you from his lap and placed you on the bed. He left small kisses on your inner thigh, sending shivers through you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured. His hands smoothed over your thighs, slowly taking off your panties then running his hands over you again, savoring every inch of you like you were something precious—because to him, you were.

“In-ho,” you moaned, his name leaving your lips in a breathless sigh, and he responded with a quiet hum, pressing a lingering kiss to your clit before glancing up at you.

“My perfect girl,” he murmured. “You deserve to be worshiped.”

Your fingers ran through his dark hair as he took his time, his tongue moving with a patience that had your heart pounding. Every touch of his hands, every press of his lips against your pussy sent warmth rushing through you. You never knew a man eating your pussy could be so intimate.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured between sucking, his hands gripping your hips gently. “All mine.”

Your back arched slightly, a whimper slipping past your lips as his tongue lapped at your juices faster. Your head tilted back, overwhelmed by the way he made you feel, your legs now shaking.

He looked up at you, dark eyes filled with something deeper than lust, affection and love. “I fucking love you,” he murmured into your pussy.

Your breath caught as your grip in his hair tightened slightly. “I love you too, fuck,” you whimpered, feeling yourself completely unravel under his touch.

He didn’t stop ravishing you until you were trembling beneath him with your pussy juices squirted all over his mouth and his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

After he was finished, lips and chin glistening, he hovered above you, his eyes lust blown. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and husky.

You wrapped your arms around him, heart thundering from how much you needed him. “Please, In-ho,” you breathed, eyes equally as lust blown as him.

He slipped off his boxers, hard cock springing free and slapping against his abdomen. You never got tired of seeing it. The tip was leaking with pre cum and he rubbed it along your folds.

“No teasing,” you whined, “I need your cock so bad.”

He smirked, lining the heavy tip with your leaking entrance. Your foreheads pressed together, jaws falling agape as his cock slowly inched inside you. He stretched your walls, your pussy making way for his sheer size.

“Fucking hell, you feel like Heaven, love,” he groaned.

He gave you a minute to adjust before slamming into you with every inch. Your nails immediately went to his back leaving a trail of fire in its wake as he thrusted into you steadily. Each time he went in, you could feel him in your cervix and you clenched around him tightly. Only he could make you feel so loved and cherished whenever he had you at his mercy.

“You’re so pretty under me like this,” he praised, eyes going from his cock moving inside you to your face.

You reached between your bodies, rubbing your clit, pleasure surging through your body and making you arch into him.

“Aww, feels good doesn’t it? Take this cock, sweetheart, take this cock and rub your clit.”

You spread your legs even wider and captured his lips into a desperate kiss.

“God, I’m gonna cum,” you said, breath strangled and tipping your head back.

His hand snaking around your throat snapped you back to reality. “Eyes on me, keep rubbing that clit and cum on this dick.”

The dominance he had always did it for you. Your fingers went to your bundle of nerves, rubbing at the same fast pace he was pounding into you. His hand around your throat tightened and he took your breath away in a deep kiss, as you felt an intense orgasm take ahold of you. Your legs shook, and you cried out but he still continued pounding into you, your pussy squirting on his cock, soaking him and the sheets below.

“Holy shit. My good girl. My perfect angel,” he muttered. “It’s my turn to cum now and I’m doing it inside you.”

You wrapped your legs around him and with a few more deep strokes, he emptied his load inside your pussy with a deep guttural moan. You trembled in his arms, holding on to him to ground yourself.

As you both came down from cloud nine, In-ho pressed a kiss to your forehead, his fingers gently brushing over your cheek. His dark eyes, still clouded with adoration, softened as he cupped your face.

“You took me so well,” he murmured. “So good for me. My sweet girl, my beautiful girl.”

His hands never left you as he helped you sit up. You barely registered when he scooped you into his arms, carrying you through the dimly lit hall.

The moment he stepped into the bathroom, your eyes lit up. A warm bath was already drawn, the water laced with the soft pink color of your favorite strawberry bath bomb. Candles flickered along the edge of the tub, their golden glow reflecting off rose petals floating on the surface.

“You planned all this?” you whispered, turning to him in awe.

“Of course I did. You deserve it.”

Gently, he lowered you into the warm water, his strong hands supporting you before he slipped in behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest, his lips finding your neck.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” he murmured.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect night.

[wonysugar]

g!p sugar mommy giselle🫦🫦🫦

g!p.... sugar mommy...... giselle..... ANON. holds you by the neck dearly thank you for this. also! it’s barely even mentioned at all but just know giselle is like 37ish and reader is in her mid-twenties. :]

cw : age-gap!

giselle as the sugar mommy you randomly met on your day to day minimum wage job at a fast food place MHMMM LET ME COOKKK..... having her be a regular who always comes in like once a week, always wearing something super fancy.. like a black prada trenchcoat or sometimes even a dolce & gabbana blazer. point is, she immediately stuck out like a sore thumb among the rest of the crowd.

plus, you found her undeniably gorgeous as soon as you laid eyes on her, so it's not like she'd go unnoticed otherwise, either.

she often approached you at the register and made small talk, as stupid as it often was. she'd find some stupid excuse not to use the self checkout machine and would find a lame conversation starter while you're watching her pull out a dior purse, proceeding with the payment of her order. that often lead to you asking her questions of your own.

"why do you eat here? you look like you have other.... better places to be eating at."

she'd chuckle at your words, finding them amusing, before answering in a gentle tone, "trust me, i do. my niece doesn't seem to think the same way i do, however, as she seems to really like this place. i appear to be the only one indulging her."

soon enough, you'd warm up to her with each visit of hers and the conversations would get much, much longer. so much so that, often times, your manager would have to step in and remind you to get back to work prompty. it got annoying quickly, as the conversations were just getting good; chatting about studies, travel plans, ambitions and goals, etc.

so, wanting to have these incredibly interesting exchanges in a more comfortable and relaxed setting, aeri asked for your number.

naturally.

who cares that she was like, ten years older than you. it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend… right?

numerous nights of friendly-texting-turned-flirty later, you two quickly agreed on a set date and location, which turned out to be a friday evening spent in the very expensive restaurant right across the block from your workplace. it was a date! she informed you to come in 'appropriate' attire, whatever that meant. how would you know? your closet consisted of hoodies, sweaters and some t-shirts as well as your work uniform. that being said, you showed up to the date wearing a low cute dark blue dress you found laying around in the darkest depths of your drawer for probably more than seven years. saying you were nervous would be nothing but a huge understatement.

she, on the other hand, came wearing a creamy white turtleneck under the black trench-coat she was usually seen wearing when ordering food at your job, the look topped off by wide legged black pants and really expensive looking black leather heels.

what the fuck are you doing.

getting cold feet, you nervously sat down at the table and bowed your head in her direction. intimidated by the light yet impacting amount of makeup she had on her face, you avoided eye contact as much as possible. she was breathtaking.

she told you to choose whatever you’d like on the menu and to not look at the price, as she insisted you not to worry at all about the bill. you, of course, felt guilty so you proceeded to pick the least expensive thing on the menu and attempted to convince her that you genuinely loved the dish, hence why you’d pick it among everything else.

who were you kidding though, you couldn’t even pronounce whatever fuckass french name it was that you picked to the waiter. she smiled at you as you finished ordering, making you turn red in embarrassment.

“you know y/n, i couldn’t bring myself to mention it in a place as unflattering as your workplace, no offence,” she started as you shook off the statement, practically agreeing with her before she continued, “but i must say that i think you are absolutely adorable.”

it gets to a point. and at this point you’re just short-circuiting at her words and intense eye contact, finding it difficult to even act properly in front of her!

she noticed that, of course, especially in times during the conversation where she called you endearing names such as “darling”, “love” and “honey”.

that wasn’t much different in bed, either.

as it turns out, you really did want her to fuck you at the end of the night! honestly, how could you not when she’d been opening every single door for you, insisting on paying for the entirety of the bill at the restaurant and offering to drive you home despite it only being a 10 minute walk?

she’d done nothing but drive you crazy all evening with her sexy and gentle manners, it’s only natural you gave her a sloppy handjob whilst she drove her grey lexus lx back to her own house with the pure intention of fucking the shit out of you.

…and she did! very well, at that!

two of her fingers deep into you, she circled your clit with her thumb and left gentle kisses on your jaw down to your collarbone. slow and steady pumps of the digits, she thrived in hearing your soft whimpers.

that didn’t last long, however. she was getting impatient, and her dick was aching to feel you.

ass up face down, you’re getting pounded relentlessly into the mattress before you know it. getting treated like nothing but a queen all night only to be later fucked like a depraved slut… it had to be the best thing you’d ever felt in a while. of course, you let her know of that with guttural moans that left your body with each thrust of her cock. she didn’t care, her house was big enough to muffle your screams, after all.

she whispered obscenities into your ear whilst you did so, gripping a fistful of your hair and humming at each sound that came out of your mouth. talking about how tight your cunt was for her, about how good it felt, how she couldn’t wait to use it every other day, about how she would kill to take care of a pretty little thing like you.

gripping onto your sides and ramming into you shamelessly as she drove you to your climax, you bit your lip until you felt like it was bleeding. her breathier heavier and each of her moans slightly higher than the previous, you both orgasmed together, a wave of euphoria washing over the two of you immediately.

oh and, you know what she said about ‘taking care of a pretty little thing like you?’ yeah, she meant every word.

soon enough, she’s taking you on dates every other weekend, referring you to a slightly better paying, less agonizing job thanks to the connections she possesses, sending you excessive amounts of money she labels as your ‘monthly allowance’ and overall spoiling you with whatever your heart desires. hell. she even payed your university tuition! she finds it endearing to see you always so shy and embarrassed to accept the money she gives you; you always go on about how ‘you don’t give her anything back’ and how it isn’t fair.

but to her, you do give back. your happiness and joy is what aeri does it for, and you give her great amounts of that. not only that, but you also give back by whoring yourself out and looking pretty for her. giving her unwarranted boners by sending her risky pictures and videos while she’s at work, having you wear the lingerie she buys you, knowing you use the toys she got you whenever she’s too busy to take care of you, etc. aeri could name nothing better than having you be the beautiful doll she gets to play with every now and then. :]

[lobautumny]

Not to mention shit like the speakers that are installed in a bunch of public spaces that play extremely loud sounds at a very high pitch that are specifically designed to not be audible to adults but to be extremely uncomfortable for children, to dissuade "dangerous antisocial behaviors" like... loitering. The horror.

A bunch of shitty adults act like it's remotely surprising that kids don't go outside and hang out with their friends anymore when, like, how and when and where are they supposed to do that? This toy knows your ass is too lazy to drive your kids anywhere that isn't on the way to somewhere that you wanted to go anyways more than once per month, and nearly a century of constant "you can't trust your neighbors" propaganda (red scare, gang fearmongering, muslim fearmongering, drug fearmongering, etc.) has left a ton of adults terrified of every unattended child they see outside, as well as being increasingly unwilling to let their own kids out of their sight for anything other than going to school. Also, when a given kid does have the means to hang out with friends on a regular basis, where do they have that they can go other than each other's houses? God knows that for the last several decades, the economy's been too shit for average working-class parents to give their kids an allowance, everything is extremely expensive, and there's never been less options for places kids can simply exist and hang out at outside.

Of fucking course kids are sitting inside on they phone all the damn time. They don't have anything else to do. Adults drove them away from everything else they could be doing because allowing children to exist anywhere is just too much of a hassle for anyone to bother dealing with. I mean, fuck, kids (especially non-white kids) can't even fucking play with toys outside anymore without running the risk of a cop shooting them in the head because they thought the bright orange Nerf blaster was a real gun (treated as a simple mistake, the cop gets suspended for a couple months and then gets to return to the force like nothing happened).

The fact of the matter is that the world in which we currently live fucking hates children. Children aren't treated as people. They're treated as political pawns, scapegoats, or property at best, and active threats at worst. Their suffering doesn't matter until they die, but then when they die, it's always "a freak tragedy that we simply could not have anticipated and cannot do anything to prevent future instances of." It's all reduced to abstract numbers that adults can shake their heads at, pretend to feel bad for a while, and then proceed to do fucking nothing about while another school gets shot up every week, and we all pretend it's normal because nobody wants to fucking address the fact that the way we treat children is beyond disgusting and unhealthy. We talk all the time about the online child grooming epidemic, cleverly point out how social media algorithms massively contribute to the problem and the platforms themselves knowingly do nothing about it, and then we all collectively shrug and look the other way. "Not my problem to deal with," everyone collectively says in unison. "It's not my kid," they say, until it is their kid, at which point it's yet another fucking "freak tragedy that could not have been prevented," and so it goes.

But god forbid a kid says they're queer and receives anything other than brutal punishment and bullying for it. Then, suddenly, by magic, everyone is an activist, everyone is a fucking expert on the online grooming problem as though they aren't so tech-illiterate that they're falling for AI boomerslop on Facebook, and everyone has a PhD in biology, and everyone has Opinions and is calling up their local legislators asking for quick, decisive action to be taken against this new social contagion corrupting our youth and for kids to be ripped away from their supportive parents and put into abusive foster programs. This toy knows that it has long since left the scope of the original point, but it's just so fucking angry. Ever since it was in middle school, it's known more people who were abused as kids or otherwise have extremely strenuous relationships with the adults in their lives than people who had what most people would try to convince you was a "normal" childhood in which they developed remotely positive relationships with the adults around them and were not abused and did not develop immense trauma as the direct result of shitty actions taken by malicious, stupid, or neglectful adults in their lives.

Children deserve far better than the world we have forced them to live in.

"kids these days don't loiter or act rebellious enough any more" kids just existing in public are more criminalized and surveilled than ever. almost every western country is running a panic about youth crime and how random teens standing awkwardly are a threat to civilization, and pushing for much more punitive laws. tons of states and powerful lobbies are pushing "parental right laws" that restrict the civil rights of minors even more. policing is first and foremost targeting youths, especially from low income and majority immigrant neighbourhoods. if a kid mildly steps out of line or says something awkward online or in a public space half a dozen people can whip up their phone and start mass harassment campaigns. and tech companies are now restricting access to the internet, the last way many teens can talk to each other freely and reach out to people outside family and school.

anyhow i think people really need to start giving kids at least a tiny bit more grace instead of making smug posts about how uncool they are compared to your youth days, you fucking twats

[prettyboykatsuki]

please you can’t mix a/b/o and LaDS. i’ll actually keel over and die. 

i can’t stop thinking about it ….

cw for dubcon kinda and rough sex. fem reader. psuedocest (gege. once shfjsjfj)

caleb in a rut. he grew up pretending to be a beta for your sake, taking as much suppressant medication and as many scent blockers as possible to make sure it was concealed. he wanted you to feel safe, to feel more at ease to the point he suppressed his own body completely

and then everything happens between you and caleb strictly forbids you entering his apartment during his rut. you don’t know it at the time, but they’re still permanently irregular from the whole soup of medications he took during his adolescence. so he has these crazy ruts like once or twice a year where he’s completely not himself.

you only found out he was an alpha recently, as in when he came back as a memeber of the fleet. but you’re partners now, you’re supposed to be equals so you want to help him thru his rut

caleb vehemently rejects you. of course he does. he’s not himself and he never wants to do something you do like.

but you’re stubborn and don’t listen so you go over to his apartment anyway. his scent is so thick it permeates from behind the front door of his place. when he answers it after your persistent yelling - he opens the door and it immediately assaults your senses. he’s shirtless, sweaty, pupils completely dilated. his voice is shot.

“go home. now”

he turns you away at the door. you get in each others face until you finally step on the right nerve and caleb yanks you inside and locks you in. cages your body against his front door with this terrifying look in his eyes, his hand gripping your jaw and making you look up at him “so fucking stubborn,”

you underestimate him when he says it’s bad. you dont realize how bad it is until you’re getting fucked over every surface of the house with little to no prep other that the left over, sticky spit from him trying to lick you open. he takes you first right by the door, your pants barely to your knees while your face is against the floor.

“wish you’d be a good girl and listen but you never do. maybe it’ll be a good lesson for you. remember it carefully”

caleb is always so gentle, so careful and kind but he’s forcing your pussy open like it’s nothing. splitting you on his cock as you cry. and he fucks you so deeply and so intense right from the jump, doesn’t ease you into it at all. he takes you on the floor before he helps you up and bends you over the kitchen counter, the back of the couch, pressed into missionary on the coffee table in his living room, on all fours on the stairs.

he’s being mean about it too. every time your pussy tightens up or clenches around him when he smacks it lightly or when he tortures your clit - he has this laugh that borders on callous. loving but humiliating at the same time

“no matter how much i stretch you open it feels like you’re trying to snap my dick off. do you want it so bad, hm?”

he’s merciless. he’s not himself. he makes sure you don’t hurt yourself when repositioning but you’re so full of cum and so sore you can barely move without limping. covered in these deep bite marks as he just goes again and again. mating like you’re animals until he comes out the haze

“how much cum do you think you have in here?” as he smacks your hip. “stay upright. don’t let it spill okay? since gege was so kind and gave it to you.”

he has moments of sobriety. you can always tell bc he becomes worried and affectionate- lapping at your wounds like an oversized dog. but it’s shortlived. the cycle starts again and your pussys wrapped around him like a sleeve for him to fuck.

you don’t get away from him for three days. it feels like your cunt is gonna stay stretched forever and caleb looks so sad and apologetic after. like a kicked dog

and as crazy as he is during - it’s also kind of . nice to feel how deeply he really desires you. the things he says during his ruts are demeaning but still somehow so lovesick and you kind of like seeing him let loose.

[heartlessvirgo]

La Camisa Negra

Summary:

Still having no time for Javier's games, you can't help but think about him. But maybe he's thinking about you too?

Paring: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+MDNI, Swearing, Kissing, heavy petting, UNprotected sex, oral, creampie, drinking,

Word Count: 11K

Part 1 Masterlist

A/N: GUYs, I loved writing this and I hope you love reading it! Okay but Javier in this is so Juanes coded (iykyk) hehe... I got inspo for this from a Javi edit on tiktok and it was top tier, literal GOLD (@/ pascaledittzs). Anyways, requests are open.

Slamming your palm against the copier, you watch it shudder and whir as if the machine itself is mocking you. Another page spits out, this one just as black and unreadable as the last. You squint at it, hoping it’ll somehow make sense, but the jagged, ink-smeared lines mock your every attempt. You don’t even know what you’re doing wrong, and that drives you nuts. This should be easy—hell, you know how to fix a million other problems—but this damn machine? It's an unsolvable riddle.

This was the cherry on top of your already chaotic day. Meetings stacked one on top of the other, each more draining than the last, and paperwork—always the paperwork. You’ve got your own pile and Camilla’s to sort out since you volunteered like an idiot while she’s off vacationing somewhere. Now you’re just trying to catch up, pressing random buttons like you're hoping for a miracle, praying that maybe, just maybe, something will click.

It doesn’t. It never does.

“Dios, what a fucking nightmare,” you mutter under your breath, feeling the words bubble up from a place of pure exasperation. The copier grinds to a halt as you yank out the page, trying to straighten the creases. You shove it back into the tray, adjusting the paper once more, hoping—no, praying—that this time it will just work.

It’s stupid. You're smart, and you know this is all trivial, but still, here you are. So why does it feel like you’re failing at something so simple? Like you're watching your competence slip through your fingers, one black-and-white page at a time. And all you want to do is scream.

The click of footsteps approaching cuts through your irritation, and you don’t even need to turn to know it’s him. The unmistakable presence of Javier Peña fills the space behind you—calm, steady like he owns the damn air in the room. You brace yourself, but you don’t turn around. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging he's there yet.

A beat, then his voice, smooth and taunting. “Come here often?”

It’s playful. Cocky, even, but today? You’re just too damn tired for his brand of charm. You don’t even spare him a glance as you slam your hand against the copier again. It hums back to life with a mechanical growl.

“Yes, Peña, this is the copy room,” you reply flatly, not entertaining his game today.

There’s a silence, and you can feel his amusement. You roll your eyes, almost feeling his smirk widening behind you. He doesn’t get it. You’re not in the mood. There was just too much to do, and adding that would crumble everything. 

He strolls in, his steps slow but purposeful, the sound of his polished shoes a steady rhythm against the linoleum floor. You catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye—his shoulders relaxed, hands casually emerging from the pockets of his grey slacks. He always seems to move with that certainty, like everything around him is just part of his own personal stage.

“Have you tried not verbally and physically abusing it?” he asks, his voice low, the teasing edge unmistakable. He leans in over your shoulder, his breath brushing the nape of your neck, sending a light shiver up your spine you’d never admit to. His presence wraps around you like smoke—unavoidable, heavy with that clean, musky scent of his aftershave, a combination of woodsy spice and cigarettes, something undeniably him. You inhale sharply, against your better judgment, and the scent fills your lungs, settling in your chest.

Your brows raise. "Oh, I’m sorry—should I try sweet-talking it instead? Maybe buy it dinner first?" You push the buttons randomly now, feeling the weight of his gaze on the back of your neck like a hot, invisible touch. 

"You’re right; maybe I should start asking it out to dinner. See how far that gets me." He chuckles dryly, not backing down.

You huff in frustration, turning your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of your eye. He’s standing too close, too familiar, and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

“All you have to do is ask for my help, but if you're offering, I’m sure I could be persuaded to dinner too." his lips curl into that infuriating grin, the kind that always seems to know exactly how to get under your skin. Especially now, since you were dancing around the fact that you had slept with him. You had fallen for whatever lust-driven curse he had put you under. And you felt guilt deep inside you. You were disappointed in yourself for that as if you had lost some battle within yourself. 

You don’t look at him; you focus back on the machine. “I don’t need your help, and I would never ask you to dinner,” you reply, your voice sharp, cutting through the tension between you into tiny pieces and tossing it away. 

You can feel him hovering just a little too close again, his presence almost suffocating, and it makes your jaw clench. He’s doing it again—making this more than it should be, and it made your blood simmer under your skin. You’d been avoiding him, but no matter how hard you tried, it seemed like he was a hall away. 

“Okay, I’ll see you in there for the meeting then?” He takes a step back, but the cockiness in his voice doesn’t falter. Your eyes involuntarily flit toward him as he moves. You catch a glimpse of his lopsided smile, his shoulders relaxed, as if he’s been waiting for this moment all week. Like he's completely unfazed by your cold shoulder.

“Or… maybe not?” he jokes, his voice dropping to a teasing octave like he's still trying to pull you into his little game. 

Infuriating. You turn to face Javier with narrowed eyes, attempting to block out the way his soft eyes send a coursing warmth through you. He was…a knife in your side or something like that. Permanently embedding himself in deeper and deeper. You swallow at the thought, a sheen of sweat forming at the memory of him buried inside you. So deep, nestled in your velvety walls, his tongue, the bite on your shoulder you wear like a hot brand. 

Jesus.

“I’ll figure this out; thank you, agent Peña,” you say, keeping your voice steady, determined to push past it. He laughs softly, the sound low and rich, and you almost wish you didn’t find it so... disarming. Like he could see the flicker of the memory brush past you, like he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. And that made you want to slap the smile from his face. 

With a casual shrug, he steps back fully, his fingers brushing the doorframe as he turns. “Alright, princesa, I’ll let you handle your... business. But, hey—don’t say I didn’t offer.”

You watch him leave, probably on the prowl for his next victim. Your breath catches as he disappears out of sight. His annoying face playing in a loop in the back of your mind, lingering, haunting you. 

Behind you, the copier hums to life, and when you turn, it finally prints correctly. Still, you wonder, how the hell did he manage to turn everything into a challenge? And why did you always want to take him on?

Javier hadn’t stopped working today. After the meeting, he planted himself at his desk, caught in a relentless loop of paperwork and classified reports, the kind where half the damn page was blacked out. The office hummed around him—phones ringing, agents bullshitting, the scrape of chairs against the floor—but it all faded into background noise, except for one thing.

The stare.

He could feel it. Unwavering. Pressing. 

Javier releases a long exhale, flicking ash from his cigarette into the tray, barely sparing a glance up. “Y’know, when I let you move your desk closer, I didn’t expect you to fall in love with me so quickly.” His voice is low, tired, laced with smoke.

Silence. Nothing but the faint scratch of a pen against paper.

That gets his attention. He lifts his gaze to find Murphy still watching him, head cocked slightly, brow raised in that infuriating way that meant he was enjoying whatever the hell this was. Like he knew something Javier didn’t, and that agitated him. 

“Funny,” Murphy finally says, the corners of his mouth twitching like maybe he doesn’t actually think it’s funny. 

Javier huffs, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. The smoke curls around him as he leans back in his chair, feigning indifference. But the silence stretches too long. Long enough for him to notice that Murphy isn’t just watching him—he’s studying him.

Javier exhales, slow. "Que?"

Murphy shrugs, looking around the office, still too damn amused for Javier’s liking. "Nothing. Just—haven’t seen you work this hard in a while."

Javier’s fingers pause on the edge of the file. He doesn’t look up. "Yeah, well. Some of us have jobs to do, criminals to catch."

Murphy snorts. "Right. The job." A pause. "Just funny, though. You haven’t asked who’s going for drinks tonight."

Javier finally glances up, slow, brown eyes shadowing. "Why the fuck would I care who’s going?"

Murphy leans back, stretching his arms behind his head like he’s settling in for the long game. "No reason." His smirk deepens. "Just thought you might like to know—she’ll be there."

A beat. A fraction too long. And Javier’s eyes flicker away, one might say nervously. 

Javier keeps his expression unreadable, flipping another uselessly redacted page. "Good for her."

Murphy grins, shaking his head like he already knows, running his fingers through his blonde hair. "Sure, Peña. Keep the cool guy act; ladies love that. Until you get old.” He murmurs in the last part before standing. 

“Where are you going?” Javier asks, mouth parting for his cigarette. 

“Stretch my legs,” he says over his shoulder, but before he walks too far, he pivots. “Peña, if she ever gives you another chance, don’t be a dick and stand her up again.” With that, Murphy walks in the direction of your office. 

—

A burst of laughter erupts from your painted lips, the sound more carefree than you’ve felt in days. 

The bitter shot of tequila still dances on your lips as you swipe your tongue. A warmth blooms in your stomach, cutting through the haze of the workweek that refuses to entirely leave you.

The reddish hues of the neon lights in the bar flicker softly, casting a pinkish shadow on your skin. Isabel had invited you—nicely, of course—and while you had no intention of staying, the distraction was welcome. 

You take a quick scan of the room, half focused on the chatter around you and half on not giggling to yourself in your drunk haze. The energy of the place buzzes in your veins, making you feel more alive than you have in a while. The tension in your neck seemed to melt and fade away with each drink.  

But for you, it was just temporary. The tension was waiting for you on the other side, but you couldn’t think about that. Not about the promotion you were so close to you could almost taste it. No, tonight was sweet, like the agave in your drink, making your lips sticky. 

“Another round?” Isabel asks, raising an eyebrow as she leans over the bar. You nod absently, your eyes drifting towards the back of the bar. Where it was less lit, and two men played darts. Squinting, you catch a glimpse of the familiar shapes of the two agents. And you knew that ass anywhere, a lean waist as your eyes travel up, and the black light-weight button-up straining over his shoulders. 

“There you go,” the bartender places your drinks on the bar top, snapping your gaze from Javier’s backside. 

With the straw between your teeth, you take a long sip, the alcohol wavering any sense of well…sense you have. The sense that tells you to walk away from his gravitational pull, to not meet his stare, and to not beg him to fuck you again. No, that would never happen again. You would not be another notch in his tight little belt.  

But, the alcohol dulls that little voice in your mind, and you happen to wander over to that side of the bar. Drink still in hand, Isabel is hot on your heels. 

“Ladies,” Murphy says courteously, avoiding the flash of cleavage Isabel flaunts. You couldn’t blame her; she was blessed in all aspects. 

“What’s the score?” you ask, offering a smile to Murphy. 

“Moppin’ the floor,” Javier replies for Steve, pulling his darts from the board with a smirk. The warm, deep hues of his brown eyes drifted along your body, like he was imagining you, how you were once naked against him. Or maybe that was just your drunk mind wandering. 

“¿Ustedes quieren intentar? Mi amor, don’t be shy, shoot for me.” Javier leans down to utter softly in your ear over the music. His eyes flit to Isabel, but they quickly return to you. You watch him, waiting for him to drink her in, to rake down her body. To make her his next target if she hadn’t already been consumed by him. But he doesn’t.

You sink your teeth into your lip, brushing his warm, outstretched palm for the darts. Twisting the metal in your pinched fingertips, you squint one eye. You feel his presence behind you, just there, like one step back, and your ass would grind against him. But with three sets of eyes on you, you fend off the temptation to indulge in the thought.

The first two darts sail wide, both thudding harmlessly into the wall beyond the dartboard. The men laugh, of course—the rumble from Javier just behind you. 

Javier’s voice rings out from behind you, low and gravelly, “Come on, you’re killing me, Cariño.”

You take the third dart, your focus sharpening for a split second. Then, just as you draw your arm back, you feel it—the faintest touch, just below your ribs. Javier's fingers skim over the fabric of your blouse, a deliberate graze that almost feels like it’s meant to get your attention, to rattle you. Or maybe to remind you. Shaking your head, you close one eye; you could play his game just as effortlessly.

Isabel’s voice cuts through your thoughts, her excitement echoing in your ear, “You got this!”

For a moment, time falters. The dart trembles in your swaying hand. You could make it. You could aim and hit the bullseye, make Javier grin that damn smug grin. But instead, you let your hand drop, just for a split second, and the dart veers wide.

“Oops,” you say sweetly, dropping your hand. You pout innocently when you turn to face the two men, shrugging. “I guess Murphy wins,” you add, cocking your head to the side.

“What is that, two times in a row now?” Murphy chuckles with a knowing smile, smacking Javier’s slumped arm. 

“Hope you didn’t have money on that,” You look up at him, savoring the look of loss on his face. It made you feel so good, so powerful. That wretched pout and how he tries to smother it with his whiskey. He deserved the weight he had on his chest, and you were satisfied that it was you who caused it. God, you were sadistic. 

“You just made me a hundred bucks richer,” Murphy smiles, bumping your shoulder with his. 

You smirk, hooded eyes watching Javier wedge the missed darts from the wall. You liked this game, not the darts, but the way you made his life harder without even realizing it. You could do it in your sleep, and that sated something deep within your chest. Something that dripped and sank, hot in the pit of your core, and if you weren’t careful, it would trickle down your bare thighs. 

You finish your drink and, without another thought, walk back to the bar with Isabel. 

You weren’t completely unaware, contrary to what Javier had so confidently assumed that day at the market. No, you noticed things now. You paid more attention to details—like the polished black Chevy Camaro parked across the street from your apartment, which had been there for the last few days, its presence nearly invisible but too consistent to ignore. You noticed the second time you’d seen it when you were drawing your curtains closed. 

It didn’t scream for attention—not the way some flashy, out-of-place car might—but it was the subtle way it would return that caught your eye. At first, you thought it was just another coincidence. People parked on this street all the time. But then there was the haze of smoke drifting out the window—a thin veil of it that curled into the cool night air. 

Someone had been sitting there. Watching.

The car hadn’t been there when you left for your morning run. Or when you came back from the store, arms full of groceries, eyes scanning the street out of habit. By midday, the suspicion had eased, slipping into the background like white noise. You went about your routine and let yourself believe it was nothing.

But now—

Now, as the sun dipped below the skyline, stretching long shadows across the pavement, it was back. Same spot. The same low hum of an idling engine before ultimately being shut off. 

As the sky deepens into a navy dusk, you lean closer to the mirror, smoothing the last touch of lipstick into place. A date. Your first since moving to Colombia. It wasn’t a big deal—not really—but still, there was something almost unfamiliar about the act of getting ready, about the anticipation curling in your stomach.

You’d met him at the bar. He had been polite and charming in a way that felt easy, with no ulterior motives lurking beneath his words. When he’d asked for your number, you gave it to him without thinking much about it. And when he called—actually called, not just some half-hearted approach at the copier—he wanted to take you somewhere nice. Dinner, conversation, drinks, simple enough. 

You reach for your earrings, slipping the small gold hoops into place before running your fingers through your hair. Even though he had called to tell you he would pick you up at your apartment, you still worried. The last time you put this much thought into getting ready, you had been stood up. And you know, that leaves a lingering trace. 

At the base of your stairs, you pause, adjusting the delicate strap of your heel. The street is quiet, void of passing cars like it usually is. But then—movement. A flicker of amber in the dark.

Your pulse kicks up, a slow, creeping awareness settling along your spine. The black car was back, and someone was currently watching. You squint, attempting to focus on the silhouette of what you assume is a man. 

You swallow, trying to make out more— a relaxed slouch, one hand out as he smokes. Familiarity in the way he flicks the ash from his cigarette.

Recognition slams into you. Of fucking course. 

A bitter laugh slips from your lips, the kind you can't hold back, and you tilt your head toward the sky, desperately searching for some shred of patience. But there’s nothing there. Only the sharp, relentless sting of annoyance.

The unease from earlier drains from your body, replaced by a heat that crawls up your neck and settles in your chest. The audacity. The sheer nerve of Javier, showing up at your home—of all places. But what else did you expect? 

You clench your jaw, hands fisting at your sides, and with a steady, deliberate pace, you make your way across the street. Your heels clack sharply against the pavement with each step, the sound like a countdown echoing in your head. Your pulse quickens and you feel the rush of heat flooding your ears, the anger building with every stride.

Leaning down, you slam your hand against the car door. Javier doesn’t flinch; he just twists the cigarette that perches between his fingers, letting it fall to the street. 

“First you stalk me, now you litter on my street?” you fume, searching for any cars passing by for your date. Who was going to be here any minute? You didn’t want him to catch you chewing Javier out, ripping him a new one right here in the street. “What are you doing here?” it comes from your chest. 

Lazily rolling his head to the side, he looks anything but guilty. In fact, he seems pleased, and he is smug as he stretches a bit in his seat. His eyes trail along your body, getting his fill of whatever gratified him. It’s too dark to read his eyes, but you watch as they linger a bit too long on your painted lips. 

“Just out for a drive,” he replies, shoulders lifting slightly. 

“A drive? Your car isn’t even on.” You look inside his car, so close you can smell the leather of the seats. How it smells like him, and it’s clean, just as you expected.  

“Well, you know me... always looking for an excuse to hang around.” He grins, his gaze flickering around your street like he owns the whole damn block. His hand casually drapes over the steering wheel.

“You cannot hang around here, Peña.” You lean in a little closer to the car window, and while you’re trying to focus on his words, you can’t ignore how your dress sits just a little too provocatively for comfort. The realization makes your heart skip a beat, but you shove the thought aside.

“Why? Got plans? And I thought we were done with the whole formal thing.” He frowns, tilting his head, an almost innocent look creeping over his face—but you know better. His voice is laced with something darker, some challenge hidden beneath the surface.

“This isn’t about me right now; why are you out here?” You glance around, heart racing as you hope your date won’t appear like some magic trick just when you need him least. Javier notices your distraction, his lips curling ever so slightly.

"Why, you worried I’ll ruin your date?" His smirk grows, eyes glinting with that trademark cocky charm. "Maybe I just like the view... you sure you want me to leave?"

You ignore him, mouth agape, with all the things, all the anger you could unleash. 

“You’re stalking me; yes, I want you to leave.”

He raises an eyebrow, giving you a look. “Not stalking. I like to think of it as... preemptive protection. You never know who might be watching, right?”

“Yes, you’re the only one watching. Have you been watching me through my window?” A shiver runs through you, the thought of him watching you through your sheer curtains making you burn. With anger, with annoyance, with need. For what? You didn’t want to find out, especially right before your date. 

The visible blush on your skin intrigues Javier, making him shift in his seat, leaning forward to get closer. “Why? You like that?” He licks his lips, nose nearly brushing yours. 

Seeing the headlights of a car rolling up in your peripheral, you shoot up. 

“No, and you better be gone by the time I get back. I mean it, Javier.” You say sternly, fixing your purse on your shoulder. Something flickers across his face, frustration and annoyance as he watches you walk away. Your hips sway, your dress hugging your curves almost too perfectly. 

Javier can feel the sharp blade of agony twist inside him as he watches you smile at your date—who doesn’t even bother to get out and open your door for you. He shakes his head, hoping you don’t fool yourself into thinking that man could actually satisfy you. Not like he could. The thought curls around in his mind like the smoke of his millionth cigarette tonight. 

As he sits in your wake, he ponders the thought of leaving, weighing it like a dangerous game. Yet, he’s drawn to stay. The vexation in your voice veils a deeper meaning. You wanted him to stay. 

So, he’s drawn to stay when every instinct in him tells him to go—to pull away. To find some whore to fuck in the darkness of the night. And it’s not like he didn’t try. Javier had tried to hold on to whatever piece of pride he had left—like taking a random woman home—yet all he could do was imagine your body as she took him in her mouth, right there in his car. It was embarrassing how quick he came with your pretty face flickering behind his eyes. 

This one-sided push and pull was going to be the death of Javier Peña, no matter how much he denied it. And yet, here he was—again—in front of your apartment. Feigning indifference, as if he were simply staking out, making sure no one came to your door. 

Lighting another cigarette, Javier stayed where he was, ignoring every sign that told him to leave.

—

You force a sweet smile as your date rambles on, his voice a dull hum in the background.

“You know,” he starts, clearly pleased with himself, “the stock market’s been all over the place lately. I’ve been telling my clients to diversify, but you really gotta be patient with the long-term investments. They say the next big boom is in tech, but you never know. You just gotta trust the process, you know?” He pauses, clearly expecting a response. You just nod.

He talks about his job—endlessly—utterly oblivious to the piece of cilantro wedged between his teeth. You don’t have the heart to tell him, so instead, you focus on his eyes, pretending to listen intently. Every time you open your mouth to speak, he dives back into the same tired stories, and you fall silent again, interjecting only when absolutely necessary, just enough to keep the illusion intact.

“Honestly, I think women just don’t understand how hard it is to keep up with the market. Like, it’s all about numbers, right?” Oh, the cilantro has moved to his front tooth. “I’ve always heard that a woman’s intuition doesn’t really work when it comes to finances. It's more of a man’s game.” You sigh, finishing your wine. 

Hours later, after an entire night of that, he drops you off in front of your apartment, obviously wanting to be invited in. You accept the kiss to your cheek with a smile that’s more out of habit than anything else. He promises to call—though, honestly, you’re already hoping he doesn’t.

It’s no surprise to see Javier’s car still parked exactly where you last saw it. In fact, after tonight, you almost feel relief. A part of you had hoped your date would go well, that maybe you could finally sleep with someone else. Someone else, so the last person you fucked wouldn’t be Javier. So you could erase the taste of him lingering in your mouth. But another part of you wanted to see Javier’s car, wanted the comfort of knowing that—despite everything—he was still there. That he had stubbornly ignored your request.

And that part was right.

Your date speeds off before you even reach the door, another reason you won’t be picking up his calls. A few glasses of wine down, and just when you thought you were going to sleep with him—before the cilantro—now you’re left with nothing but a wasted buzz.

But Javier? You’re betting he’s still watching. Maybe, just maybe, a fucked-up part of you wanted the date to go sour just so you could turn right around and get a taste of what was familiar. The thought makes you bristle—yet it’s undeniably there, lodged somewhere between the flicker of your annoyance and the heat in your chest.

In fact, you spent the entire date prying Javier from your mind, like some kind of compulsive itch you couldn’t scratch. The more you tried, the more you realized no one else would ever measure up. Not to the way he made you feel, not to the way his presence dug under your skin, pulling you closer even when you were desperate to keep your distance.

It was his touch, his taste, the way he made you want to lose control. 

You take your time, letting your heels click against the pavement as you walk toward your door, making sure to swing your hips with each step. You pull your hair to one side, exposing the soft curve of your neck, and just as you do, your gaze flicks down toward Javier's car. You don’t need to look up to know that his eyes are on you, and the thought of him there—waiting, watching—has your pulse quickening.

You want him to see this. To feel it, to want you like you did in your wine-drunk state. You let your fingers brush against the door handle, pausing just long enough to make sure your movements are deliberate, drawing his attention. You’re baiting him now.

You step inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Your apartment is quiet, and the lamps offer a soft glow to the room. It wasn’t anything crazy, but you took pride in how everything tied together. Splashes of warm colors and soft fabrics. Tossing your purse onto the couch, you move toward the kitchen, your thoughts racing. 

The sharp, electrifying knot in your chest vibrates as the anticipation lingers. You didn’t know if Javier would bite, but you want him to. You move to the kitchen, uncorking a red wine and pouring a generous glass. You swirl the liquid as you contemplate how long you’ll wait. 

As you take a slow sip, you hear it—soft, barely audible at first. A rap against your door, tentative, almost as if he’s unsure whether to interrupt the stillness of your home. 

Your heart stutters, a brief flutter of uncertainty creeping in. You hesitate, the glass halfway to your lips, wondering if you imagined it. But then it comes again—quicker this time, more insistent. Your fingers tighten around the stem of the glass, and without another thought, you set it down. 

Still in your dress and heels, you swing the door open—Javier leans against the doorframe, chest rising and falling as he’d just sprinted up the stairs like he’d spent too long hesitating before finally giving in. His black cotton shirt clings to him, shifting with every thundering breath, and the way it stretches across his broad frame only adds to the raw, restless energy rolling off him.

He looks pained. Frustrated. But undeniably himself.

His hair is a tangled mess, like he’s been raking his fingers through it in thought, and his brows are pulled tight, casting a shadow over his dark eyes. There’s something in them—something unreadable, something dangerous—but all you can focus on is how damn good he looks standing there, undone in a way you’ve never seen before.

The familiar scent of him—smoke, musk, something distinctly Javier—wraps around you before he even speaks. And just like that, the space between you feels charged, like an invisible thread has tightened, pulling you toward the unknown.

“Bad date?” is all he says as he saunters in without a verbal invitation. What was the point? Your eyes had done all the talking. 

You wanted to agree—to curse the date for even happening, to erase the memory of it, to crawl back to Javier and let him make it better. The words press against your tongue, but you bite them back. Instead, you roll your eyes, shut the door, and twist the lock with a deliberate click.

Behind you, he doesn’t move. Not right away. He lingers in the quiet, soaking in the air between you, before finally stepping further inside. The leather couch groans as he sinks into it, his legs spreading like he owns the place, like he belongs here.

Your fingers twitch at your side.

“Something to drink?” you ask, already walking to the kitchen and reaching into the fridge before he can answer. The cold air rushes over your skin, but it does nothing to cool the heat licking at your neck.

With the glass of wine in your hand, you watch him over the rim, your fingers tracing the edge absently. His beer sits untouched in front of him, but it’s the way he watches you—eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes—that makes the space between you feel smaller. The pulse between your thighs grows stronger, sharper, and undeniable, radiating outward with each sip, each glance. Your skin feels too tight, too aware of the heat rising in your chest.

"So?" he asks, his voice low, almost casual, but there's an edge to it, something you can’t quite place.

"So?" you mimic, a smirk tugging at your lips, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. Instead, your gaze locks with Javier's, daring him to say more, to do something, to break the silence that thickens the air around you both.

“So, how’d that amazing date go?” He tilts his head slightly, his smirk deepening. His eyes run over you with a knowing glint, like he’s already figured it all out. “You wouldn’t be back so soon if it went well, right, Cariño?” 

“It was…interesting.” You chew your cheek, eyes flickering to the space between you and him as if searching for something to say. A retort, a jab, anything to cut through the silence and throw him off balance. But the words feel like they're just out of reach, slipping between your fingers like smoke.

As you set the glass down on the coffee table, a quiet resignation settles over you. The game you’ve been playing isn’t as easy as you thought.

Without thinking, without even trying to explain it to yourself, you shift, crawling across the couch with slow, deliberate movements. The moment you settle on Javier's lap, your ass resting against his thighs, the world narrows to just the two of you. His body relaxes beneath you, rough hands crawling up your smooth thighs. 

“Yeah?” Javier asks, voice smug with a rasp like you’d proven him right. And that makes your open thighs quiver with anticipation. That he is here, nestled between them, rough denim grazing your clothed pussy. The fabric of your panties so thin he could practically feel how slick you were, the hotness seeping through his jeans. 

You nod, lashes lowering as you glance down at him. Your voice is quieter now, barely above a murmur. “You already knew, so why ask?”

Javier exhales through his nose, something unreadable flickering in those dark eyes. “Just wanted to hear it out loud, cariño.” His voice is rough, gravel scraping against silk, each word drawn out like he’s savoring them.

“And? Are you satisfied with my answer?” you press, searching his handsome face. The wine in your blood made him look more flushed, cheeks in high color, like overripe plums. 

"Not sure yet," His hands slide upward, heat bleeding through the fabric as he cups your hips, thumbs pressing in just enough to make you notice. The silk of your bunched-up dress is soft under his fingers.  

"Might need to hear it again. Tell me what he did wrong." Then—blunt fingernails dig in, sharp enough to send a shiver up your spine, to make you wonder if he’s holding you there or keeping himself from pulling you closer.

So you do it for him, grinding forward to press your pussy into his growing erection. You look at him innocently, your hands finding the searing skin of his neck, fingers splaying into his hair. 

“You want to know?” You ask, and he tilts his head to one side, fingers guiding you across his erection again. The seam of his jeans drags against your clit, the rough pleasure parting your lips. 

“Tell me, and I’ll make it better, mi amor.” With one hand, he brushes the hair from your shoulder, dark eyes under darker brows, watching you closely. 

It’s unsettling the way you feel so exposed under his gaze as it wraps around you as if he’s savoring every slight twitch, every wet gasp from your lips. Like he’s memorizing, retaining you in his mind, and he takes his time. You can’t shake the feeling that he knows you in a way you’ve never been known, that every shift in your posture is being felt by him before it even happens.

"Made me feel stupid. Talked about stuff like I couldn’t keep up," you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as Javier's touch—so constant, so sure—guides you and rocks you against his cock. “Ordered for me without asking, a fuckin’ salad.” A broken laugh escapes you, the sound sharp and brittle, only for it to be quickly swallowed as Javier leans in. His breath brushes against your skin, hot and sudden, before his lips press against your throat. 

The kiss sends a tremor through you. 

"Pobre cabrón, pensó que te conocía." His lips brush your pulse, his words almost a whisper against your skin. “No sabe que te gusta esto, ¿verdad?" He doesn't know you like this, does he?

With a sharp suck, he marks your neck, coaxing an answer from you. “Didn’t listen to me all night, then asked to come inside.” You almost don’t tell him, but the way he exhales, a soft huff of disbelief, is enough to satisfy you—like he can't believe the nerve.

His hands pull you upward with a force that leaves your breath catching in your throat. The heat of his palms sears through the thin fabric of your dress, sending a ripple of electricity through your skin. There’s no hesitation in his touch—just pure, controlled intention. In one motion, he flips you over, sending you sprawling onto the couch beneath him. The cool leather of the cushions meets your back as you replace his seat on the sofa. Javier drops to his knees on the floor between your legs, his eyes flicking to the damp lace. The material sticks to your pussy, clinging to your lips, giving him the perfect view. His hands are still on you, fingers pressing into the softness of your thighs.

“Would you have let him in? Let him fuck you?” he asks, eyes darting up the valley of your body to your face. Your dress bunches at your waist, your white lace panties exposed to the cool air. 

“Fuck no,” you reply quickly and observe as he weighs your answer. He seems content because he tilts his head and kisses the tender skin of your inner thighs. 

"Good," he mumbles against your flesh, his teeth dragging just enough to make you shiver. The black silk is weightless, almost liquid against your skin, but still, it does nothing to conceal the stiff peaks of your nipples. 

“Spread your legs—wider,” He urges, and you comply, spreading yourself further. You shudder when you feel his rough fingers peel your underwear to the side, his arched nose nudging against your lips, inhaling deeply. 

“So good—” Javier interrupts himself by lapping his tongue against your center, dragging the slick up to your clit. He swipes the tip of his tongue, hand splaying across your stomach. “Always thinking ‘bout your pussy,” he tilts his head up, lips glistening with your slick. You gasp, the thrill of being on display to him so fully igniting something deep within you.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, each pulse a steady drumbeat of something dark and electric. He kneels before you, a man who has never known devotion yet looks as if he's offering a prayer. But there is no holiness in the way he stares up at you—only something raw, something that burns your body.

“Want you to come before I fuck you, can you do that for me?” Javier says gruffly. You feel his fingers glide through your folds, spreading you before sinking into his knuckle. You watch as his eyes droop shut, the vulgar sounds of him eating your pussy filling the living room. 

“I-I don’t know if I can,” Your breath hitches as he devours you, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves through your body. You liked being in control but didn’t like being told what to do. But with him on his knees, ravaging you like his last meal, you lose that fight in you. 

“You can hermosa,” Your soft sighs and breathless gasps only encourage him further. His tongue rolls over your sensitive clit, dragging it into his mouth as he sucks softly. 

A low, primal groan rumbles from Javier’s chest as you grip his fingers, feeling the rhythm of his fingers pushing deeper. The way he loses himself in you, every inch of him savoring the sensation, sends a rush of heat through your body. No man has ever made you feel this alive, this good—and the tight, unbearable tension pooling in your pelvis only builds.

Your heart pounds wildly; its rhythm is the only thing you can grasp as the world blurs around you. Each breath is a struggle, drawn deep into your lungs, as pleasure floods you like sunlight. You arch, drawn toward Javier as if the very act of surrender is as natural as breath. Your back lifts from the couch, delicate and almost weightless, as though you're being drawn into something timeless, something beyond yourself.

"Fuck, I’m gonna—” The words spill from your lips, breaking into a whimper as pleasure coils tight, snapping. Stars flicker behind your eyes, bursting like firecrackers with every curl of his fingers inside you. 

Javier’s mouth remains relentless, lips and tongue a force that pulls you deeper. The sounds are wet, guttural—impossibly obscene, filling the air with a heat that mirrors the feeling inside you.

Your hands fist in his dark hair, pulling hard enough to sting, but it only makes him groan against you—like he wants you to use him, to come apart beneath his mouth. 

Your thighs attempt to snap shut, trembling from the aftershocks, but Javier’s grip is iron. He presses them back down, keeping you spread for him. Your walls flutter around his thick fingers, milking them as he licks a slow, deliberate stripe, drinking you in. 

“Javier,” you whine, pure, intoxicating sultry laced in your tone. You wanted him, needed him inside you. It felt like a line was drawn, and you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t get him. He comes up for air, lips swollen as he runs his tongue along them. His eyes glisten, making them seem lighter, but they are hooded nonetheless as he slips his fingers out.

His fingers slip under the waistband of your panties, and he drags them down your legs, flinging them someplace.

Javier makes you feel like a goddess—like something worshipped, something craved. And maybe that’s why you could never get enough of him. Why he lingered in your dreams, why a small, wicked part of you hoped your date would crumble into disappointment—so you could have this instead.

Him. Here.

Between your thighs, his body pressed against yours, his breath warm, ragged with need. His cock straining painfully against his jeans as his fingers work at his belt, desperate, shaking with restraint. There’s no time to move, no time to think—just urgency, the kind that consumes, that steals breath and reason. The sharp clink of his belt echoes in the quiet, a sound so simple yet electric.

Then, with a groan, he pushes off his knees, rising from the floor, his hands never leaving you. He gathers you effortlessly, pulling you with him, pressing you down onto his lap as he falls onto the couch.

“Condom?” His voice is low, hushed with an almost palpable urgency, eyes dashing up to meet yours as though he’s already losing patience. Before you can answer, he’s closing the space between you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that feels like he’s trying to steal the very breath from your lungs.

His lips are heated, a sharp contrast to the cool air between you, and you taste it—the tang of your own arousal mingling with his tongue, so, so sweet.

“I’m on birth control,” you murmur, breathless, your words swallowed by the hunger of another kiss. It’s all you offer, a quiet surrender, hoping it’s enough to make him crave you even more.

The thought of him inside you—all of him—suddenly consumes you. You don’t care about anything else, not the risks or the consequences. You only know the pulse between your legs and the intense craving. You don’t understand what’s happening or why you need him this way, but it feels like an urgent need to let go.

Javier pulls away just enough to give you space, but the trace of concern in his eyes doesn’t escape you. It’s a brief moment, a fleeting hesitation. Still, you see it—his brow furrows, lips tight with something softer than his usual cocky grin.

“You sure?” he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty. If you didn’t know better, you’d swear he was playing the part of a gentleman—though you know damn well he’s anything but.

“Yes,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, “I’m clean, it’s okay if you don’t—”

You’re cut off before the last syllable can escape, his mouth crashing into yours with a force that leaves no room for hesitation. His kiss is firm, demanding, swallowing your words.

“Say the word, cariño. You lead, I follow.” Javier says into your mouth.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he shifts beneath you, movements hurried. He pulls his jeans down just enough for his cock to spring free, the heated skin of it brushing against his stomach with a slap between you.

Javier can feel the tremble of his hands—faint but undeniable. At first, he wonders if it’s you or him. He feels something stirring in him, something foreign. It’s not fear, but something—something urgent, primal. Desperation, temptation, a potent mix of longing and restraint. It tugs at him, a force he hasn’t felt before.

He’s never been this reckless. Never this in the moment where he couldn’t think straight. Enough to where he would slip into your warm pussy and take you like that. Javier was always careful, contrary to popular belief. Wrapped it up tight, tested, and tested again. Always keeping a record of women as if they were transactions, just to be safe. He couldn’t remember all of them, but one thing was sure, he never fucked without a condom. 

But you.

You, above him, looking down at him with those daring eyes. Grabbing the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head. His eyes drink you in, the curve of your supple breasts and the arch in your spine. Telling him to take you raw, with nothing left to hold his sanity in check.

It’s a gift you have given him. A dangerous, treacherous gift. He feels it settle deep in his sternum, making his heart race and his pulse throb with a hunger he’s not sure how to satisfy. He’s never wanted anyone like this—needed them, with a rawness that cuts deep.

You feel the fat head of his cock press against your soaked lips, the tight stretch creating a gasp from your chest. His fingers dig into your fleshy hips, guiding you but letting you do as you please.

“Such a tight pussy,” Javier says with a huff and rests back on the couch, your hands resting on his shoulders as you sink further down onto his length. His gaze drifts lower, eyes heavy with desire, flicking between your faces and the space between you. The subtle shift of your body as you sink deeper until you're flush against him, fully seated. 

Javier couldn’t describe the feeling of you, only that he knew it like a second home now. Your walls engulf him, drenching the soft curls at the base of his cock. His brows pinch together as you rock, lifting yourself and sinking back down. You were warmer inside than he remembered, softer. 

“Fuck... feels so damn good, Hermosa. Never... never felt it like this before.” Javier’s head falls back against the couch, his breath ragged, and his words slip out like a confession. His chest rises with every inhale, muscles taut beneath his black shirt that has been pulled to expose his stomach.

“Feels so full, Javi,” You exhale slowly, letting his name slip from your lips—his nickname—like a spark that lights the hunger in his eyes.

Javier’s mouth parts, jaw slack, as you fuck yourself. Using him for your own pleasure. 

“So goddamn sexy, Hermosa.” He leans forward, capturing your perky tit into his mouth, sucking as you bounce. He could feel the friction of your walls on his sensitive cock that was no doubt already weeping with precum. His teeth sink down on your nipple, tugging on the nub before pulling away.

He tried to think of anything—anything—to keep himself from coming too soon. But the way you’re wrapped around him, so tight, it almost feels like a vice—swallowing him whole. His breath hitches, and he fights it, fighting the urge to lose control as the pressure builds, unbearable, delicious. Every inch of you clenching around him is a sweet, aching burn he’s not sure he can withstand. 

“Can you hear yourself, cariño? How wet you are?” You whine when you feel the pad of his thumb swiping small circles, coaxing you further into the pressure that was building. “Wish you could see this, it's fucking beautiful.” You wish you could, how his perfect cock was splitting you in two. 

“I’m so close, Javi,” you whisper, your voice low, strained. 

“Already?” He tilts his head, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth, his breath shallow. “I make you come this fast? Don’t think he could. I know he couldn’t.”

You lean in, your lips brushing his, tasting the sharp, familiar salt of his mouth. His mustache scratches your tongue, rough against the softness of your mouth—intimate, gritty, a reminder of how close you are, how much you’ve already given in.

“So beautiful on me, cariño,” The hand clamped tight on your hip refuses to loosen, a bruising grip that keeps you exactly where he wants you. The other weaves into your hair, fingers curling at your scalp as he tilts your head up—commanding, insistent. “Wanna see your face when you come. Mírame.” —Look at me. His voice is rough and thick with something that makes your stomach coil tight.

Your gaze locks onto his—warm honey drowning in dark, decadent chocolate. Intense. Unrelenting. Beautiful in a way that almost hurts. His fingers flex in your hair, holding you there, forcing you to feel every inch of him, every damn second of this.

You take what you want, grinding down until your thighs ache, until the burn spreads through your limbs like fire licking at dry earth. There’s something almost cruel in it—the way you use him, the way you make him suffer beneath you. It’s punishment wrapped in pleasure, a slow torment you draw out just to watch him come undone. His release lingers just out of reach, and you like it that way. You want him teetering on the edge, aching, needing—wanting. 

Your mouth falls open, a sharp inhale catching in your throat as the pleasure builds, curling around your spine, pooling low in your belly. It’s too much, too good, the air between you feverish. Damp with breath and heat, and when your eyes meet Javier's, something shifts. There—in the way his fingers tighten at your hips, the way his gaze clings to yours, yearning. Something is there, though it must be the light. Your movements slow, forcing you to feel the way his body trembles beneath you. Attachment. That’s what it looks like. 

But before you can make sense of it, before you can decide what it means, it vanishes. Snuffed out the second Javi's lips collide with yours, swallowing your breath, his moan vibrating through the heat of your mouth. Like he’d seen you see him for who he was, and that was someone vulnerable. 

Your brows pinch together, a sharp inhale swallowed by his lips as he bites into yours, drawing out something wrecked, something involuntary. The orgasm takes you by surprise—sweeps through you like a fever, rippling from the inside out as your walls clench tight around his thick, uncut cock. It knocks the rhythm from your body and leaves you shuddering, unraveling in waves that roll through you, consuming you.

“Goddamn,” Javier breathes against your mouth, the heat of it searing, feeling the way you choke his length. He grits his teeth, hips jerking up, fucking you through it, refusing to let you drift from him even for a second. His fingers—blunt, desperate—dig into the flesh of your ass, dragging you down onto him like he’s determined to make sure you feel every pulse of him buried inside.

Breathless, panting against your ear, Javier’s voice is wrecked when he finally speaks. “Where do you want me to—” His words catch, thick with desperation, like he’s teetering on the edge of something that could ruin him.

“Inside,” you moan—cry—whimper—you’re not sure which, only that you need it, need him. Your voice is hoarse, drenched in the remnants of your pleasure, your walls still fluttering around him, pulling him deeper, as if your body already knows the answer he was too afraid to assume.

Javier had never come inside a woman before—but fuck, he didn’t care if you lied about the birth control. Didn’t care if this was reckless, if it was madness. All he knew was that you were something he wanted—not just in the chase, not just in conquest.

You burned with something untamed, a wildfire he had no intention of snuffing out. No, he wanted to feed it, to bend it to him, to shape it around his hands. He wanted to control you, break you open in ways only he could. And in this feverish, lust-drunk moment, he didn’t care if that was dangerous territory. If that made him want something…domestic. He was desperate—so fucking desperate.

Javier chokes on his breath, his hands gripping your hips with enough force to carve. The scrape of his nails against your skin sends a sharp thrill through you, and for a moment, the pain feels like possession. Another mark from him, another claim—like a fucking trophy in this twisted game you both play.

“Fuck… fuck...” His grumbled curses fall from his lips, his breath ragged, and his head drops forward, his sweat-slicked forehead pressing against your breasts like a desperate weight. 

Inside you, he pulses so deep it’s almost painful. He gives you all he has, each desperate thrust pulling something from you. And for some reason, it’s that very surrender that makes it feel almost pathetic—like he’s losing himself in this more than you have. 

"Can you feel it? Can you feel me come inside you?" His voice is murmured, breath brushing over the curve of your breast as his mouth devours your tender nipple. His lips are hot, sucking in soft laps, and there's no shame in his words. No restraint. He’s drunk on you, on the feel of you, on the way your body swallows him whole.

He doesn't care that it makes him sound weak, not with the way he can already feel his come seeping out of you, coating the base of him. You can feel it too, the wetness, the slickness, the proof of him spilling into you.

“Yes, I can,” you whisper back, your voice rasping. Javi's forehead lifts from your skin, his gaze tilting heavenward as his chest heaves. His nostrils flare, his eyes fluttering shut as if the act of breathing is too much. You lean in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss, his mouth the delicate hue of ripe peaches.

The corners of his mouth twitch into a half-smile, something so boyish, so unlike the man you’ve come to know. A flicker of something you can’t quite place stirs in your chest—a feeling like a weight plummeting through your ribs. No, you remind yourself, eyes narrowing. You were never supposed to want him to feel anything more than the rush of adrenaline and raw chemistry that burned between you both. But now? The burn was turning cold, or maybe it was a flame that had turned blue. 

You must be out of your damn mind thinking you could tame someone like him. Who the hell do you think you are? That’s precisely what you’ve been avoiding all along—attachment. The kind of thing that turns into a chain weighs you down and leaves you tethered to a man who never meant to stay.

You swipe your fingers through his damp hair, the sweat slicking against your skin. The words slip out before you can stop them, their clumsiness cutting through the tension in the air. 

“We have to fuck other people, Javier.”

A joke, a lie, or maybe a desperate plea to sever the invisible thread already wrapping too tight around your chest. You know it’s reckless, a stupid overstep to assume—but if you’re feeling like this already, you can’t keep going. No. Not like this. Not with him.

Javier’s hands settle at your hips, gripping tight, pulling you in, his soft cock still buried inside you.

“Why would I want to share you?” His voice is low, almost a growl, as he murmurs. The question hangs in the air, but the soft tension in his words makes it impossible to tell if he’s teasing or serious.

You can feel the slickness between you, dripping down onto his thighs.

“Funny,” you say, your breath hitching as you squirm against him, trying to free yourself though his strength is overwhelming. Your thighs are slick now, his skin hot beneath you. “You’re gonna get bored of this,” you say, but even you can hear the playful doubt in your voice, your mouth tasting like lies.

He chuckles softly, a dark sound that vibrates through you. “I’m literally still inside you, Cariño,” he says, and there’s no mistaking the possessiveness in his tone. The words sink into you, making your pulse race even faster.

You can’t stop the blush that blooms across your skin, a rush of heat that creeps up your neck and paints your face. “Well…” you breathe, words faltering. 

Javier’s gaze lingers, feeling more intimate than the sex, like his eyes are peeling away the layers you’ve carefully constructed, exposing the parts of you that you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. He sees you, which is unfortunate for you, and the sharpness of his attention makes your pulse stutter. You’ve always been good at hiding your truths, but with him, you’re not sure you can.

“Is this fun for you?” His voice is rough around the edges as if he's searching for something from you. His brown eyes stay fixed with yours, but there’s a flicker of something beneath the surface. Hesitation? Fear? Or maybe it's just the steady flow of the after-sex—the chemical rush that always makes you say things. 

You pull back slightly, shifting, and his soft cock slips out of you, resting on his stomach. But you don’t move from his lap. Not yet.

He watches you tentatively, the faintest curve of his lips pulling up at the corners. “Then that’s all that matters to me.” The words come so quickly, but they hit you like a sharp breath. You want to believe him. God, you want to. But something about this—about the way he says it so casually—feels like a game he plays with everyone else. How many times has he used that line before? You cock your head slightly, torn between wanting to trust him and feeling that bitter, familiar pull of doubt.

“Right,” you say skeptically.

You watch him closely, waiting, and the seconds stretch between you. And then, like he's reading your thoughts, he says, "I won’t get bored." His voice is so casual, but there's an edge to it now, an implication behind the words you can’t ignore. What was he getting at?

“I was joking, Javier,” you play it off, though his words bounce around in your head. He didn’t mean it, did he?

"I know." He huffs, almost annoyed by your amusement. "You can relax, though, if you're worried about me and other women, don't. Never been unprotected…" Javier didn’t know why he kept speaking; he only knew that every word felt wrong. 

“I think you made that pretty clear,” you reply.

"Yeah, well, I don’t usually have to explain myself." His voice is rough, a little more tense now. There's a pause, clearly frustrated with his own words. 

Javier knew he couldn’t be with another woman if he tried, and God knows he’s tried. He despises that he sounds like a broken record, the same song playing nonstop. Javier doesn't even understand it himself—this thing he’s offering you, this tangled, messy piece of him. 

Your breath hitches as his gaze sharpens, and it feels like he's weighing you, searching for something beneath your hard exterior. And then, his voice is softer—hesitant, vulnerable, as if he's scrambling to offer more, to entice you. 

“But if you wanted to do this more, we could be... singular… together?” He says it with dark brows furrowed, but his eyes soften, his tone catching somewhere between playful and... desperate?

“Singular? Like just us?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow and leaning back slightly. He looks confused, more than you, and you’re not sure what to think of it. 

“I could, just to be safe, if that’s something?” You feel a tremor pass through him, the subtle twitch of his fingers on your bare thighs. He was lying through his teeth, and he knew it; there were no other women.

"Oh?" you say, lips curling into a teasing smirk despite the pit in your stomach. 

But then, you hear yourself challenging him: “And what about me? What if I wanted to sleep with other men?” You’re testing him, pushing him to see how far he’ll bend before he snaps. Before he takes back everything he just said. You didn’t want other men; you wanted Javier.

Javier swallows hard, his gaze flicking to the side, momentarily losing its focus. For a beat, he seems genuinely torn—his brows furrowing, lips pressed together in a thin line like he's struggling to hold it together. He couldn’t read you, not entirely, but he sensed it—the quiet understanding that he’d somehow ruined it. His mind races as if fevered because this wasn’t him. He was never this undone, this lost in a moment.

“If that’s what you wanted.” The words come out quietly, almost too faint. You catch the hint of a pout forming like it physically pains him to say it. 

A strange, gnawing feeling settles in your chest. What are you doing? Why are you pushing him away when all he’s offering is… everything?

He watches you closely, his lips curling into a small, almost self-deprecating smile. “And for the record, if you’re into dinners,” he adds, his voice low like he’s tasting every word, “I wouldn’t stand you up again. Not this time.”

You bite your lip and look away, trying to hold onto your control. 

"I don’t know if you could handle being that loyal, Peña.” The words slip out, but underneath them, you know the truth. You want to give in. Every part of you is telling you to take what he’s offering. But all you could give was an elusive answer, too afraid to say yes, too enamored with him to say no. “But sure, if that’s your offer, I’ll think about it."

Your eyes narrow, and without warning, you climb off his lap, the cool air hitting your skin as you search for your dress. You slide it on, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you watch him tug his jeans back on, the silence between you thick with unspoken things.

You shake your head, unable to suppress a dry laugh. Exclusive? The thought of you two being anything more than this, than this constant game, is almost laughable. He really did have a way of making you question everything, even the parts of you you thought were untouchable.

“So, are you going back to watching my house again?” you ask, voice light, trying to bury whatever it was that had just been said between you two.

He looks up, eyes locking with yours, and the cocky grin is back, but there's something deeper, something heavier. “Think I’d have a better view from inside…” he murmurs, his voice dropping an octave as his gaze trails over you with more intent now. “Your house, that is.”

You pause, and for a brief moment, you're not sure whether to laugh or turn away. But you don’t do either. Instead, you raise an eyebrow, almost daring Javier to keep pushing.

"Don’t hold your breath, Peña." You turn away, knowing this game is far from over. But for Javier, it had already ended—there was no more chase, no more play. He wasn’t hunting anymore; he was caught. And worse, he didn’t care. Javier would take whatever piece of you you were willing to give, whole or shattered.

Because after everything—the cartel, the blood, the ghosts that never left—Javier Peña could no longer face danger. Not when you were the most dangerous thing of all.

[luvst4rc0r3]

"Why did you do that" PT.2

Jinx x f!reader

Warnings:None?

WC:1848

PT.1

Jinx didn’t even think.

She just moved.

The Firelight hideout smelled like oil and smoke, old books and freshly cleaned wounds. It was a place Jinx had never thought she’d set foot in without a gun in hand.

But none of that mattered when she saw you.

You were sitting on a bed, wrapped in blankets too big for your frame, looking exhausted.

Isha was beside you, dressed in bandages, a fresh scar running down the side of her face—but her eyes lit up the second she saw Jinx.

Jinx didn’t breathe.

She couldn’t.

She wanted to move, wanted to run straight to you, to Isha—to make sure this wasn’t some cruel joke—but all she could see was the way your arms looked wrong.

Or rather, how one of them didn’t look like yours anymore.

You raised your right hand—no, not your hand, the metal that had replaced it. Isha, beside you, mimicked the movement with her left arm, sleeve empty below the elbow.

Jinx felt like she was going to be sick.

But you smiled.

“Jinx.” Your voice cracked, but it was real, and gods, it was the best sound in the world.

She couldn’t stop herself anymore.

Jinx ran.

She crashed into you like a grenade, arms tight, tighter, afraid that if she let go, you’d disappear again. She felt the way your hand gripped onto her shirt, felt the way Isha pressed herself into both of you, her face buried in Jinx’s shoulder.

Jinx sobbed.

Ugly, shaking, wrecked sobs.

“You fucking died,” she gasped, pressing her forehead against yours, “I thought you were dead—fuck, I—”

“I know,” you whispered, voice trembling as you held her closer. “I know.”

Isha didn’t sign anything, just curled herself further into Jinx’s side. But she didn’t need to.

Jinx felt it.

Felt both of you, warm, breathing, alive.

Her fingers curled into your clothes, into Isha’s hair, into anything she could reach, because she couldn’t let go. Not again.

Ekko, somewhere behind her, stepped away, giving you all space. Jinx didn’t look at him. She didn’t look at anything but you and Isha.

She hadn’t needed saving before.

But gods, was she glad Ekko had stopped her.

She buried herself into you, into Isha, into the warmth of the people she thought she’d lost.

And for the first time since that night, Jinx finally felt something again.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Jinx didn’t let go of you for the rest of the night.

She sat on the cot beside you, arms locked around your waist, like she was afraid you’d disappear if she blinked too long. Isha was curled up at your other side, dozing off but still holding onto both of you.

You didn’t blame her.

None of you had been apart like that before.

Jinx traced her fingers over your new prosthetic, her touch featherlight. It wasn’t like her bombs or her guns—it wasn’t built to destroy. It was careful.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head. “Not really. Just feels… weird. Like something’s there when it’s not.”

She hummed, rubbing circles into your palm. “Still kicks ass, though. Look at you, all metal and scary.”

You snorted. “You like it?”

“I liked your old hand better,” she admitted, softer this time, “but this one’s cool too.”

She lifted it, pressing a kiss to your fingers—just like she always used to.

You exhaled shakily.

“Jinx,” you whispered, leaning into her. “I’m sorry.”

Jinx tensed, pulling back to look at you.

“For what?”

“For—” You swallowed. “For almost dying. For scaring you. For everything.”

Her face twisted, like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“That’s my line, dumbass.”

You huffed a laugh, and she took your hand—both of them, flesh and metal—and held them tight.

“You didn’t do shit wrong,” she murmured. “You fought. You lived. That’s all I need.”

Your throat ached. “I thought we lost you.”

Jinx’s eyes darkened.

“I thought I lost you first.”

Neither of you said anything else after that, just clung to each other in the dim light of the hideout, breathing in the reality of being here, of being alive, of still having each other.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

The Firelight hideout wasn’t the most comfortable place, but lying in bed with Jinx made it feel like home.

You were tucked against her, head resting on her shoulder, while her fingers traced absentminded patterns on your arm—the flesh one. She hadn’t stopped touching you since the night she found out you were alive.

Isha was curled up on the other side of the bed, deep asleep, her breathing slow and steady.

The world outside was on the brink of chaos. War loomed over all of you, but in this moment, it was just you, Jinx, and the quiet hum of each other’s heartbeats.

Jinx shifted slightly, and you felt her reach into her pocket. Before you could ask what she was doing, she held something up in front of you.

A ring.

It was messy—scrap metal twisted together, gears and wires interwoven, the metal slightly uneven—but it was her. Every part of it screamed Jinx.

“Marry me,” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.

You blinked.

Your brain short-circuited.

“What?”

She looked nervous, biting the inside of her cheek, but her grip on you didn’t loosen.

“I mean—y’know—if you want to,” she muttered, avoiding your eyes. “After all this shit’s over. If we make it. If—”

You cupped her face, cutting her off.

“Jinx.”

she kept on rambling.

“Jinx.” You said a bit louder this time.

and she kept on yapping.

“JINX”

Now that caught her attention.

She swallowed.

You could see it in her eyes—the fear, the hope, the love that had always burned so brightly in her, flickering unsteady in the dark.

You kissed her.

Soft. Slow. Lingering.

When you pulled back, you smiled.

“Of course I will, dummy.”

Jinx blinked.

Then she grinned, wide and breathless, like she couldn’t believe it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She exhaled shakily, pressing her forehead against yours. “Fuck.”

You laughed.

And when she pulled you even closer, burying herself in you, you let her—because tomorrow was uncertain, but this?

This was real.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

It took exactly five hours for you to piss Jinx off again.

You had just finished getting new adjustments to your prosthetic when you stormed up to Ekko, voice firm. “I want in.”

Ekko, who was fully aware of your stubbornness, barely batted an eye. “I figured.”

Jinx, however, did not take it so well.

“The fuck you do,” she snapped, stepping between you and Ekko. “You’re not fighting.”

“Yes, I am,” you shot back, folding your arms. “I can still fight, Jinx.”

“You lost a fucking hand, baby.”

“And I got a new one.”

“That’s not the point!”

The two of you stood inches apart, both breathing hard, staring each other down.

Jinx’s hands were shaking.

You exhaled, forcing yourself to soften. “Jinx…”

She shook her head violently.

“No. No way. I just fucking got you back, I’m not—” Her voice cracked, eyes glassy. “I’m not losing you again.”

Your chest clenched.

You stepped forward, pressing your forehead against hers. Jinx inhaled sharply, hands gripping your shirt.

“I’m not leaving you,” you murmured. “I swear.”

Jinx gritted her teeth.

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Smoke choked the air, metal screeched against metal, and the scent of burning rubble filled your lungs as you ran through the wreckage. Your body ached, wounds screaming with every step, but none of it mattered.

You had to find her.

Then you saw her.

You saw her dangling over the edge, Vi gripping her wrist with everything she had. But Jinx—Jinx wasn’t fighting to stay.

She was letting go.

Your heart nearly stopped.

“JINX!”

Your voice cut through the battlefield like a gunshot.

Jinx’s head snapped toward you, wild eyes locking onto yours.

For a split second, something flickered in her face—relief, disbelief, love—but then her fingers twitched, loosening.

You ran.

You didn’t think—didn’t hesitate—you just ran, leaping over metal until you were right there, right at the edge.

And then, before either of them could stop you, you grabbed Warwick and shoved yourself forward.

Jinx’s scream ripped through the air.

“NO!”

But before you fell, before the void swallowed you whole, you locked eyes with her one last time.

And you smiled.

“I love you,” you whispered, voice breaking. “And I will always love you. Take care of Isha.”

Then you let go.

Jinx’s breath hitched. “No, no, no—

Jinx didn’t think.

She didn’t breathe.

She didn’t hesitate.

she hit the gem out of the glove and jumped

She really jumped.

Vi screamed for her, reaching, but she was too slow—too late.

Jinx dove after you, the wind roaring in her ears, drowning out everything except the one thing that mattered.

You.

Her arms wrapped around you mid-fall, yanking you against her chest as the world blurred around you.

You barely had time to react before she twisted the monkey bomb only to let out glitter before diving into an air vent.

Metal screeched.

Jinx grunted as the impact nearly knocked her out, but she didn’t let go of you—not for a single second.

For a long moment, neither of you moved.

Then—

You sat up quickly, ignoring the stabbing pain in your ribs. “Are you insane?!”

Jinx blinked, dazed. “Uh. Kinda?”

You grabbed her face, forcing her to look at you. “You jumped.”

Jinx frowned. “And? What, you thought I was just gonna let you die?”

Your heart clenched.

“Jinx…” Your voice cracked. “You could have—”

“Lost you?” she whispered, voice raw. “Not happening, baby. Not ever.”

Your grip trembled. “I told you to take care of Isha—”

“And I will. With you.”

Your breath hitched.

Jinx swallowed hard, pressing her forehead against yours. “I’d rather burn the whole damn world down than live without you.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but there was no time for them.

You inhaled shakily, pulling away. “We need to go. They will still try and find you—”

Jinx nodded, already grabbing your hand, pulling you toward a rusted-out air vent hidden behind a collapsed wall. “Way ahead of you.”

⊹────⊹ ꯭┄ׁ┄ ʚ͜♡͜ɞ ┄ׁ┄꯭   ⊹────⊹

Navigating the old tunnels was brutal. Your bodies were battered, your limbs screamed with every movement, but neither of you stopped—not until you reached the one place Jinx knew Isha would be.

She was waiting.

The second you slipped into the hideout, Isha spun, her wide eyes filling with tears the moment she saw you both.

Jinx barely had time to say anything before Isha threw herself at you, shaking, gripping onto you like you might disappear.

You held her tightly, running your fingers through her hair, whispering, “We’re here, we’re okay, I promise.”

Jinx pressed against both of you, hands wrapped around Isha’s back, her face buried in your shoulder.

For the first time since the war started, you felt safe.

No more fighting.

No more running.

Just the three of you.

And this time, you weren’t letting go.

YALL HAPPY ENDING!!!

I want sleep

[dixons-sunshine]

Be My Valentine | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

(GIF by @daryl-dixon-daydreams)

Summary: Encouraged by Carol to finally do something about his feelings for you, Daryl takes advantage of the supposed holiday of love to do it. Showing up at your doorstep with flowers might just be exactly what he needed to do.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria.

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 889.

A/N: Not the best, but I wanted to write a little something for Valentine’s day. I hope this is still somewhat enjoyable!

“Alright. I got this,” Daryl muttered to himself, his nerves at an all-time high. He nervously smoothed his shirt, clutching a handmade bouquet of wildflowers in his other hand—courtesy of the help of Carol. He stood in front of the door to the house you shared with Michonne, Rick and the kids, hesitating on whether or not he should do what he wanted to.

It had been a long time coming, really. Daryl had harboured feelings for you since as long as he could remember. However, he never had the courage to confess to you, not wanting to ruin the perfectly good friendship the two of you already had. But Carol had enough of the two of you “dancing around each other”. Valentine’s day was coming up, and she had deemed it the perfect day for Daryl to finally stop beating around the bush and ask you out.

Daryl had agreed, but only because if everything went wrong and you indeed didn’t feel the same, he could play it off as wanting to spend time with you as friends. That he just wanted to make you feel special on the holiday that couples seemed to adore.

Taking a deep breath, Daryl raised his fist to the door to knock against the wood. After three knocks, he took a step back and waited for you to come to the door. He knew that Rick and Michonne were out for the day, so at least he didn’t have to risk making a perfect fool out of himself in front of them. However, as the seconds ticked by, doubt washed over him. What if he was making a mistake? What if you didn’t want this? What if you hated him afterwards?

Daryl turned around, ready to walk away and throw the towel in on the idea. However, before he could even take one step, the door opened, and your sweet, angelic voice reached his ears.

“Daryl, hi!”

The archer turned around, his cerulean eyes locking with yours. He felt the air leave his lungs at the sight of you; wet hair, clad in a pair of shorts and a shirt that clung to you because of the water droplets, and that radiant smile he had come to love so much. Despite trying to talk, words fell short.

Your eyebrows etched together in concern. “Daryl? Are you okay?”

Daryl cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, m’good,” he replied gruffly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You nodded and shifted your gaze down to the flowers in his hand. “Those are beautiful,” you told him. You could feel your heart beat faster against your ribcage, but you reminded yourself to be reasonable. Those flowers weren’t necessarily for you. They could be for someone else.

Clearing his throat again, Daryl tried to suppress his nerves. “Yeah. Carol helped pick ‘em out.” He slowly extended the bouquet towards you, averting your gaze. “Got ‘em for you.”

“Oh.” You smiled shyly and took the flowers from him, bringing them up to your nose to smell them. “Thank you.” So they were for you. That made your heart melt. “But why?”

Fuck, Daryl thought to himself. There was no turning back now. It was now or never. “’S, uh… s’Valentine’s Day tomorrow. I mean, I guess it is, if ya wanna believe the people who have been keepin’ track’a the days.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, trying to suppress a smile. You didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, but you had a pretty good idea of where he was going with it.

He inhaled sharply, stuffing his shaking hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Was wonderin’ if you’d, y’know…” He shrugged his shoulders.

“If I’d what?” You knew. There was no doubt in your mind at this point about what he was going to ask you, and you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of it.

Daryl swallowed and exhaled shakily. “Ain’t it obvious? Ya really gonna make me say it?” he asked, seeing the way your lips curled up into a playful smile. He had to fight off a smile of his own.

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “No.” You stepped forward and leaned towards him, pressing a soft, quick peck to his cheek. When you pulled away, you could see the blush that coated Daryl’s cheeks, and you smiled at that. “Yeah. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

Daryl ducked his head shyly, peering at you through his hair. “Y’sure?”

You laughed again and nodded. “I’m sure.” You fiddled with the bouquet in your hands. “What do you have planned?”

He hummed and took a step back, feeling butterflies swarm around in his stomach. “You don’t gotta worry ‘bout that. S’a surprise.”

“Well what should I wear, then?” you asked with a grin.

“It don’t really matter, but casual s’probably a safe bet,” he replied.

“Okay. I’ll be ready.”

Daryl nodded and took another step back. He felt happier than he has in a long time. He couldn’t believe you had said yes, that he could actually tell Carol to go ahead with helping him plan the perfect date. Things were finally looking up for him.

And he was going to make sure that he gave you the best Valentine’s Day he possibly could.

[dailynnt]

♡⃟࿔ BETWEEN FEIGNED HATRED AND REAL DESIRE ♡⃟࿔

𑁤 Summary: You can't stand Jungkook, your brother's arrogant, cocky friend who is just waiting for an opportunity to annoy you. He always finds a way to get under your skin, and you were sure that what you hated more than him was the idea of having any feelings for him. But one accident changes everything. Left with him in a locked, cramped room, where every breath is a fire between you two, you realizes that you hatred has always been hidden behind something deeper. Something that cannot be denied, cannot be ignored.

𑁤 Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader, Jungkook • Y/N

𑁤 Age restrictions: 18+

𑁤 Size: one shot

𑁤 Tags: best friend brother, school au, y/n Hoseok sister, from enemies to lovers, sexual tension, unprotected sex, detailed description of sexual scenes, swear words, slightly domJK.

𑁤 Dedication: A late Valentine's Day gift 💘 @myjungkookthighs, @kelsyx33, @someoneelse0109, @mskookie, @kooccult, , @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @rispwr, @kooko007, @medstudentlifestyle

𑁤 From author: Another of my fantasies that resulted in this, in my opinion, an interesting work. It seems that there are many such works, but you know each author writes in his own way 🥹💕 Therefore, please enjoy, this is a gift ( 🤫 Late gift) for Valentine's Day 💞🫶🏻💜

Your story seems is typical. You hated one of your brother's best friends. All five of the Bulletproof boys on your school's volleyball team were just perfect.

Namjoon, tall, strong, and very smart. Jin is tall, funny, and handsome. Yoongi is quiet, talented, and can always talk to you about anything. Jimin is cheerful, charismatic, and has a subtle sense of humor. Taehyung was synonymous with the word beauty, he was cute but also a tomboy.

And him. Jeon Jungkook. He was a walking nightmare who was hotter than fire, but had a temper that pissed you off. His favorite thing to do was to tease you. He would do just that when he came to your house to hang out at a party thrown by Hoseok, your brother, or when you were having lunch at school with your brother and a whole bunch of his friends sat down with you. Jungkook was always there. And you were literally sick of him.

There was tension between you because your conversation always ended with you screaming and wanting to scratch his face.

Today was Valentine's Day and you hated it. Why? Who wouldn't hate those sweet couples in love who kissed or hugged each other almost everywhere they went? Why are they so annoying on this particular day?

Physical education is over, the last class of the day. You took a shower and went to the locker room. The girls were all gathered together, talking, joking about Valentine's Day.

"Girls, let's each say who we would like to fuck today?" - Kim Sora, who was your bestie, suggested. Only the girls from your company were left in the locker room. They were all mostly cheerleaders, but you weren't. "I'd like Namjoon." - She says first. Everyone laughs and Hewon and Seolha say they would like Namjoon too.

"And I would like Yoongi. His aloof and almost bored behavior turns me on so much. I would know how to make him feel better." - Sejong says, and you burst out laughing. She's had her eye on Yoongi for a while now, but he's not paying attention.

"God, I can't decide between Taehyung and Jimin. They're both so hot, can I have both?" - Sumin asks. You laugh again as you put on your sweatpants. You look at yourself in the mirror.

"Y/N hope you'll forgive me, but I'd like to fuck your brother." - Arin says. You turn to her and grimace.

"Goshhh, Arin, I thought you had better taste." - The girls laugh, but you don't. You genuinely don't understand what girls find sexy about your brother. But fortunately, you don't have to.

"And you're Y/N? You're the only one who hasn't said yet." - Arin laughs and all the girls pay attention to you. You are a little nervous about their attention, and you walk back to the bench where your T-shirt was lying. You put it on.

"I don't know, I don't think I'm interested in any of the Bulletproofs." - You say casually.

"No, you're a liar." - Sora says, and you turn a sharp look at her. You raise your eyebrows. No. She's not going to tell you about him. "Girls, do you know who she dreams of fucking?" - Sora smiles slyly.

"Don't you dare talk about him." - You threaten your bestie , who breaks into an even more evil smile. All the girls squeal almost in unison.

"Who? Who is it?" - Arin squeals.

"Who is our impregnable ice queen dreaming about? Is it Yoongi?" - Hewon asked.

"Hey, Yoongi is mine!" - Shouted Sejong.

"No, I don't want your Yoongi!" - You said. You hurriedly started to pack your things so that you could run away before Sora said anything about him.

"No, it's not Yoongi." - Sora said. She was silent for a moment. You gave her an angry look and said with one lip, "I'm going to kill you." "It's Jungkook." - Sora finally said, and everything broke inside you. All the girls gasped.

"Jungkook?" - Hewon shouted out. "She hates him just as much as he hates her."

"I don't want him." - You said harshly. All the girls stared at you. "I barely live on the same planet as him, and you're saying this." - For some reason you were trying to justify yourself. And when you realized it, you decided it was better to leave. "Don't say stupid anymore like that. I'm going home." - You said more calmly. You stopped at the threshold and turned to Sora. "Sora, you are in trouble." - You smiled sweetly and hurried away.

You were so angry. You couldn't stand Jungkook, how could you want him? He was so horrible. You walk away with quick steps, clutching your bag. Your chest burns with anger mixed with shame. How could she do that? How could she say that out loud?

You raced down the path from the gym, clutching the straps of your bag so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your heart was pounding and your cheeks were burning. Jungkook? Was it him? Why the hell would Sora say something like that in front of everyone?

You stopped, took a deep breath. You never want him. You can't stand him. He's been annoying you since the first day you met him. He's arrogant, self-confident, always sure of his own attractiveness.

And for some reason... You stopped abruptly when you saw him. Jungkook stood next to his motorcycle, wearing a black T-shirt that fit his muscular body and above it black bomber. He was twirling his helmet in his hands, and his eyes slid over you as if by accident.

Your face flushed even more. He raised an eyebrow.

"What?" - He said, smiling slightly. You took a step back in confusion.

"Nothing!" - You answered too sharply. His smile grew wider, almost impudent.

"You look..." - He tilted his head, studying you. "Tense."

"Go to hell, Jungkook." - You gritted your teeth and tried to walk away, but he quickly grabbed your wrist. You froze.

He took another step closer, leaning in so that you could smell his perfume. For some reason, your heart started pounding furiously.

"Wait." - He purred.

"Are you crazy? Let go of me. What do you want?" - You hissed, trying to pull your hand away, but he only squeezed your wrist tighter. His eyes darkened and a strange pleasure appeared in his voice.

"By any chance, were you thinking about me right now?" - His voice was as mocking as ever.

"You…!" - You choked with anger.

"Because you blushed." - He added hoarsely. Something tightened in your chest. You going to kill Sora.

"If you don't let go now, you'll lost your golden bells." - You threaten, and your face expresses absolute anger. He laughs, but lets go. Because you usually keep your words. You give him a scorching look and walk home.

You get almost home, and when you want to call your oppa, you are horrified to realize that there is no phone. You dig through your pockets and search your bag, but it's not there. Damn it, you must have left it in the locker room.

You swear about everything, cursing this day, and go back to school. It takes you at least 30 minutes to get to the locker room. Almost no one is in the school anymore. You look for your phone, but it's nowhere to be found. You swear again and try to figure out where you could have left it. You desperately searched for your phone in the locker room, under the benches, in your things. But it was nowhere to be found. Fuck!

You exhaled loudly and ran a hand through your hair. Someone must have found it by now and taken it away.

"Looks like that girl has sown something again." - You flinched at the familiar voice. You turned sharply to find Jungkook standing at the door, arms crossed over his chest.

"What do you want?" - You asked abruptly. He shrugged his shoulders.

"I saw you running like a madman. I figured you were in trouble again." - He said bored. But his gaze was absolutely focused on you.

"I'm not in trouble!" - You were indignant.

"Yeah, you're just running around grumbling to yourself." - Jungkook said with a slight smile. You rolled your eyes.

"I just left my phone here." - You said, irritated. Jungkook shrugged again, but suddenly started walking around the locker room, looking under the benches. You raised your eyebrows and watched him. "What are you doing?" - You asked.

"Helping you find it." - He said looking at the windowsill.

"I didn't ask you to. Get out." - You say harshly, turning away from him. Although for some reason you don't want him to leave. And you want to hit yourself for feeling this way.

"Come on." - He said, coming closer. You glanced over your shoulder. He put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head. "What's wrong with helping my best friend's sister."

You turned away and grimaced, but inside you still felt a little relieved.

A few minutes later, you walked out of the locker room, and you looked around again, trying to remember where else you might have left your phone.

"Maybe in the gym?" - Jungkook suggested.

"Maybe..." - You mumbled, holding a little further away from him. He silently turned around and headed that way. "Hey! I told you, I don't need your help!" - You said, trying to get rid of him.

"Then just don't follow me!" - He threw over his shoulder without even stopping. You gritted your teeth and followed him anyway.

The gym was empty. You walked around it, looked in all the corners, and suddenly Jungkook stopped at a small room with sports equipment.

"Have you looked here yet?" - He asks, peering in. He walks over and opens the door wider. "I saw you go in here in class to get a ball." - Jungkook remembers.

"I wouldn't leave it here." - You argue, coming up behind him. He turns his head toward you.

"I think we should check here too." - He said and went inside. You looked at him skeptically and followed him inside.

The storage room was small, filled with balls, mats, and other equipment. You cautiously walked around the small room. It was lit by a single small window, through which the rays of the setting sun were breaking through. While you were looking at the stand with the volleyballs, you suddenly heard something. A click. The door closed. And immediately there was a sound that made you freeze. A lock.

"No, no, no..." - You turned around jerkily and pulled the doorknob. But in vain. You heard footsteps outside.

"Yeah... I think this is the last one." - You heard a muffled voice. "Finally, all the rooms are closed."

You pressed yourself against the door.

"HEY! SOMEONE HELP US! SOMEONE IS HERE!" - You pounded on the door, but nothing seemed to happen. Jungkook laughed.

"Damn, that's funny." - He said leaning on the stand. You slowly turned your head to him.

"You think it's funny?" - You squeaked. He held up his hands. "We've been locked in here. And probably on purpose."

"Hey, calm down. It's an accident, who would lock us in here on purpose?" - He asked skeptically. You slammed the door with your palm.

"Damn it!!! You're to blame for this!" - You screamed.

"Me?" - Jungkook was genuinely surprised.

"You dragged me here!" - You countered. He laughed out loud.

"My baby, you chose to follow me." - Jungkook said defiantly through hysterical laughter.

"Don't call me that!" - You shouted. You were shaking with anger. You'd lost your phone somewhere, but worse than that, you were locked in a small room with a man you couldn't stand.

"What? 'My baby' this word makes you angry?" - He asked again and smiled again. You looked around frantically.

"We have to get out of here. Call someone, Hosoku or whoever, and get us out." - You said.

"Oh, of course we have to get out. Otherwise, you'll be stuck with me in a cramped room..." - He suddenly took a step closer. "...alone." - You clenched your fists. Reflexively stepping back to the door.

"Don't do this. Just pick up the fucking phone and call my brother." - You said.

"Don't do what?" - Jungkook stopped one step away. You took another step back. There must be a door somewhere. "I think you don’t want that I’m really calling to anyone." - He said, leaning closer. You froze. He smiled slightly, his gaze sliding over your face, then to your lips. "Even you don't mind?" - Your heart beat faster. But you had to control yourself. You clenched your teeth.

"If you don't shut up now..." - You threatened, losing what little self-control you had when Jungkook pinned his gaze on your lips and took another half step closer.

"What?" - He lowered his voice. You could hear the noise in your ears and the frantic pounding of your heart. Jungkook must have heard it too, because he suddenly smiled mysteriously.

"I'm going to kill you." - You tried to say in your usual tone. The one you used every time you spoke to Jungkook. But as he stood so close and looked at your lips, you heard your voice break.

"Really?" - He asked. You suddenly realized the gravity of the situation and seemed to see yourself from the outside. You were like an antelope being caught by a lion.

You were ready to kick him, but he suddenly grabbed your wrist and sharply pushed you against the front door. Your heart was pounding even faster. His face was close. Too close.

"If you hate me so much..." - His voice was hoarse. "Why are you embarrassed next to me?" - You wanted to protest. You don't get embarrassed next to him. He always annoys you, and all you do is get angry and yell at him. Jungkook leaned in even closer, his lips near your ear. "If I kiss you now, will you push me away?" - He whispered. You felt his breath on your skin and knew he was playing with you. But what was even worse was that, against your will, you began to like this game.

You leaned back against the front door, your pulse pounding in your temples, and Jungkook's breath barely touching your skin.

"I'll push you away." - You gritted out, trying to raise your hands to push him away, but he grabbed them and pinned them behind your back, intertwining your fingers. You tried to get free, but he held you tighter. His closeness and the smell of his perfume made your legs go limp. He smiled.

"Oh, you do?" - He asked boldly. Your nails dug painfully into his palms.

"Don't play with me, Jungkook." - You threaten, looking into his eyes filled with mischief. "I'm going to tell Hoseok that you were hitting on me." - Jungkook giggled softly.

"You won't." - He said confidently. "Because you like what I do." - His lips were almost touching your ear. You flinched, but tried to pull away from him anyway.

"I don't like it. You're too confident." - You said firmly. He pressed even closer, and then... backed away. You were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Jungkook had stirred up something in you that you weren't supposed to feel before.

"Do you want me to stop to make fun of you?" - He suddenly asked. You raised your eyebrows and shifted on your feet.

"What?" - You asked quietly. Jungkook smiled predatory.

"I suggest we end this here. Once and for all. Here's the deal. You do one thing I ask and I'll never make fun of you again." - He offered. It sounds tempting. The prospect of getting rid of Jungkook forever is too tempting.

"What are you suggesting?" - You ask sharply.

"Kiss me." - He says. You are frozen. But then you almost laughed.

"Are you silly? What kind of nonsense is that?" - You laugh. Jungkook takes a step forward and you don't take your eyes off him.

"Just kiss me and this will be over." - Jungkook says. You clench your jaw. Should you kiss him? Only if the world ends.

"I won't..." - You say indignantly. Jungkook is close again, and your pulse is pounding in your temples.

"Why, are you scared?" - He smiles even wider. "Do you think you'll like it?"

You grit your teeth. He dares you. He's just playing with you. He won't leave you alone even if you kiss him now. The thought of kissing him is driving you crazy. If you do it now, he'll laugh forever.

But...

Why did your hand suddenly almost jerk forward? Why did his gaze seem to evoke something hot and uncontrollable inside you? You took a deep breath. Could he be serious now? You don't know if you can trust him one hundred percent, but for some reason you think he's serious.

"Okay." - You finally agree. Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

"What?" - His voice is pure surprise. You took a step toward him, grabbed him by the collar of his bomber jacket, and go on your tiptoes, slowly reaching for his lips... You could almost feel his warmth when he pulled away at the last moment.

You froze. You opened your eyes and saw his sly smile.

"You..." - You said quietly, boiling with rage. He laughed, brazenly, smugly, his eyes sparkling with pleasure. How humiliating.

"So you really want to kiss me? You said you didn't like it. You didn't really think I'd let you do it that easily, did you?" - The blood rushed to your head.

"You... asshole." - You punched him in the chest, but he just laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you were so determined to kiss me. Did you really? You hate me so much and you wanted to kiss me?" - He asks through his laughter. You got even more angry and started to hit him, but he quickly caught your arms and turned you around, pinning you against the wall again. He pinned you from behind and you felt his crotch pressing against your ass. You were breathing fast.

"That's enough, baby. I don't want to fight you." - He mumbled in your ear. His fingers tightened around your wrists, which he had pinned against the wall. "I thought you were so cold..." - His voice dropped to a whisper. "But you're heating up faster than I thought."

"Let go of me." - You hissed, wriggling away. But he didn't listen.

Instead, he turned you around and before you could realize it, he was kissing you. Hotly, greedily, so that your breath hitched and your thoughts were mixed. He pressed against you harder, and you... You didn't push him away.

On the contrary, your fingers tightened involuntarily on his bomber jacket. You hated him. But... You wanted it.

When he pulled away from you, his lips were still barely touching yours, and his voice sounded bold and deep at the same time.

"Should we stop?" - He asked. You were breathing heavily, your mind screaming no, but your body was reaching forward treacherously. His gaze burned you. Deep, dark, filled with something that made your body stiffen and your heart pound furiously in your chest.

Jungkook's lips barely touched your cheek, then slowly slid down to your jawline. His breath is hot and tickles your skin, making you shiver.

"I knew it." - He whispers. "You're not pushing me away."

"I..." - You stutter, not sure what to say. His hands, warm and strong, slid down your body. He slipped his hand under your sweatpants and squeezed your buttocks as if he didn't want to let go, as if he wanted to leave a mark on you-not just on your skin, but deeper, somewhere you'd never let him touch.

"Mmm?" - His lips touched your ear. "What are you going to say now?" - You wanted to say that this was a mistake. That you didn't want this. But your breath gave you away. Deep, shuddering, with an echo of desire. Jungkook smiled slightly, his other hand slowly moving up along your waist, tugging at the fabric of your T-shirt. "Do you want me to stop?"

His lips descended to your neck, a light bite, a burnt touch of his tongue that sent an electric shock through your body.

"Tell me..." - He demanded, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. You couldn't say no. Because your fingers had already slid over his chest, you could feel the muscles rippling under the fabric, and your body was treacherously searching for him.

"Jungkook..." - His name sounded almost pleading on your lips.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours again, even hotter, even more greedy. This kiss was no longer a game. It was real. And you already knew you had given in.

His hand that had been squeezing your buttocks slid down your thighs and came to your front. Without taking his lips from yours, he parted your folds and touched your clit with his fingers. You unconsciously moaned into his mouth. He smiled into your lips.

He massaged your clitoris so gently and so wonderfully that you thought that if he hadn't been holding you down, you would have fallen over. The circular movements on your sensitive center were driving you crazy.

Jungkook plunged his fingers into your passage and finally pulled away from your lips. You were both breathing heavily, very close together. You felt his hard cock resting against your thigh.

"You're so wet for me, baby." - He whispers breathlessly. You can't speak, because the friction from his fingers prevents you from doing so. "Do you want more? I can fuck you right now." - Jungkook offers. You raise your eyebrows, moaning softly. Jungkook pulls up your t-shirt to reveal your breasts.

You're not wearing a bra. You didn't put it on after gym class because you were sweating and didn't want to wear a dirty bra. You didn't plan to go back to school, but you forgot your phone.

"I've always wondered what those nipples taste like." - Jungkook hummed and leaned over to one of them. His lips captured your sensitive flesh and sucked. You felt him smile. You held his shoulders and tried not to go crazy with his skillful fingers inside you.

"Jungkook..." - You called out to him. He didn't answer. He just moved to your other nipple and played with it with his tongue. "Please..." - You breathed out. The Jungkook left your nipple and you felt the cold air contrasting with the licked nipple.

"What is it baby?" - He asked into your lips then. But suddenly he pulls his hand out and puts his fingers into his mouth. You breathe heavily and watch him suck his fingers soaked in your cum. "You really want me to fuck you?" - Jungkook wants to make sure. You bite your lip, unable to say it out loud. But yes. You do want him to fuck you.

Jungkook glanced between your bodies. His hard cock was already resting against your pussy. He made a few thrusts and you squeezed his clothes harder.

"Go ahead and say it, or I won't continue." - He says tensely. A hush escapes your lips.

"You're lying." - Suddenly, your voice cuts through. "You won't be able to stop now." - Jungkook laughs. You're so damn right. He's either going to fuck you or…he's going to fuck you.

"You're such a smart girl. But you have to let me." - He warns you gently. But you don't answer right away. You think again that this could be a joke. What if will you let him now and he walks away again? And then what? Or you'll let him fuck you now and he'll tell someone that you begged him.

"Do you want me?" - You asked, instead of letting him. Jungkook pulled away and looked into your eyes. He saw how much you wanted him. He wanted you too, your question was so stupid.

"Isn't it obvious?" - He asked with an arched eyebrow. You ran your fingers down his neck, took out his hair and dipped it in your hands, stroking it.

"Just say it. Do you want to fuck me right now?" - You asked, smiling seductively. Jungkook smiled back reflexively. His eyes grew darker.

"Fuck it!" - He cursed. "Yeah. I want to fuck you so hard you can't sit up." - He said with anticipation in his voice. He put his hands on your hips and squeezed them. You smile satisfied, now you can let him.

"Then do it Jeon." - You say and his lips crash against yours. His tongue enters your mouth and finds yours. You get even wetter from his kisses. You want more and he just promised you.

Jungkook breaks your kiss and in one swift movement leaves you without your sweatpants and panties. He falls to his knees in front of your pussy and his eyes are filled with lust. You breathe raggedly looking down at him. You could never have imagined such a picture in your head. Jungkook smiles at you from the corner of his lips and presses his lips to your pussy.

You grab his shoulders and squeeze them. A moan escapes your lips as his tongue traces long streaks across your folds. Your legs tremble as he sucks on the tip of your clit, and you are just in bliss. You press your head against the door and your moans fill this cramped room.

Jungkook sucks hard on your clit. At one point he plunges his fingers back into your passage to stretch you. You are almost going crazy. It's the first time you've ever been eaten, and it feels so fucking good. Jungkook's skillful tongue takes you to heaven. It doesn't take long for you to come right on his tongue. He feels you twitching and spends some more time his tongue on your clit enjoying every drop of you.

You stop twitching and he finally pulls his lips away from your pussy. You look down at him, breathing heavily. You see his chin shining with your juices.

Jungkook stands up, wiping his chin with his hand. He takes your neck with his hand, pulling you closer.

"As expected, you are as sweet as honey. I should have tasted you sooner. But you hated me." - He says and then kisses you. He puts his tongue in your mouth so you can taste yourself. And it turns you on.

Not one of your boyfriends you've dated has ever eaten you because they thought it was not normal. Even though blow jobs are commonplace for them.

But Jungkook, did it in the first. You've heard about it from your friends and have been dying to try it. You want to laugh at the thought that the first person to eat you was Jungkook and he did it so damn well.

"If I had known that your tongue could do more than just talk nonsense, I would have been more sympathetic to you." - You said with a seductive smile as Jungkook broke your kiss so you could breathe in. He laughed, sincerely and infectiously. You laughed along with him. "So what? Do I have to do to make you feel good?" - You ask and reach for his pants. Jungkook is also wearing sweatpants, so your hand sinks inside without any obstacles, successfully passing through his boxers.

Jungkook pulls away slightly and lowers the looking between your bodies. He only sees your hand disappear somewhere in his pants, but when you feel his length and your fingers pump up the it, he barely holds back a moan. You arched your eyebrows and pretended to look like "not bad."

"You're bigger than I might imagined." - Jungkook looks up at you and smiles cockily. "I thought that if you had such a long tongue, your dick was tiny." - You mock. You couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. Jungkook didn't appreciate your joke. He grabbed your face gently with one hand and he another hand leaned against the wall to steady himself.

"You're going to regret thinking that. Because my cock will make you scream." - He said powerfully against your lips, but you weren't afraid, you smiled playfully,. Before you can say anything in your defense, Jungkook kisses you again. Insistently, authoritatively, and deeply, as if he trying to prove something to you. You pull down his pants and boxers below his buttocks to have a better opportunity to jerk him off.

Jungkook moans into your mouth as you speed up your movements. He's getting hard in your hands and you can feel it well.

Jungkook pulls away from your swollen lips with all his might and stops you.

"That's enough, you better give me your pussy so that you realize how wrong you were." - You smile at his words and let him. He turns your back to him. You hear him moving behind you, obviously pulling his pants down. You press your hands against the door and wait for that moment.

Jungkook takes his cock in his hands and pumps you on buttocks several times. He slams it into your buttocks and you breathe heavily. He touches your folds with his fingers, runs them over your pussy to smear your moisture.

You finally feel the head of his cock touch your entrance. You hold your breath. Jungkook leans down to your ear and whispers one last time.

"Please be quiet, so the whole school doesn't hear you screaming from my cock." - He grabs your head and turns you around to kiss you. Your mind is foggy with lust, excitement, and his words.

Finally, you feel pressure on your passage. Jungkook holds your hips. Slowly but surely, he plunges into you. You feel pain when only his head is inside. You scream out, which makes him smile.

"So you're already regretting thinking that?" - You hear his voice somewhere behind you. You say something unintelligible and then scream again as he presses harder. His cock is really big. The biggest you've ever had inside you. Jungkook hisses. "Fuck you're tight, so tight, baby." - You want to smile but you can't, it hurts. Jungkook finally takes over completely. You both freeze to get used to the sensations. Your hot breath leaves marks on the door.

"That feels so fucking good." - You say quietly, so Jungkook doesn't hear that his cock makes you feel so good.

"Are you okay baby?" - He asks leaning down to your cheek. You smile because you're glad he didn't hear what you said a moment ago.

"Yeah. Everything is fine." - You say honestly.

"Then get ready. Because I'm going to fuck you hard." - He warns. Jungkook straightens up and moves his hips. You bite your lip to keep from screaming. The first movements are painful. The next ones are pain mixed with pleasure. And when Jungkook sets a good pace, you feel absolute bliss. You can't stop moaning. He moves his hips so well creating exactly the friction you like.

But Jungkook doesn't stay gentle for long, at some point his thrusts become sharper, deeper. His fingers touch your thighs with a certain force. The cock presses into you as much as possible and you feel he shudders in your middle.

The sensations are simply incomparable. He is so good at this. Jungkook fucks you perfectly. Like no other. It's just nonsense. The best fuck you've ever had is not with someone you love, it’s with Jungkook, who you hate, and not on white sheets, but in a school in the small room with sports equipment. It's crazy.

"That feels so fucking good. Baby, you're just perfect for me." - Jungkook compliments you. He finds your clit with his hands and you can't stand the stimulation.

"Koo... please..." - You say between exhaling moans.

"What did you call me?" - Jungkook asks as he continues to fuck you. You feel a sweet bliss brewing in your lower abdomen.

"Koo..." - You moan his shortened name.

"Damn... You can call me that whenever you want to fuck." - He offers. You raise your eyebrows and open your mouth. Does he think this is not your only time? Right now, you're almost on the verge of cumming around him. And you think that you wanted it to be more than once, too. You want this amazing sex was constantly. But what will happen when you come out from this room, and you finally realize what you've done.

But the knot in your stomach unravels and you come, clutching Jungkook's cock. He's cursing behind you, and you can feel you squeezing him. He slaps his hips mercilessly, his balls slamming against your ass, and the sinful slaps drive you crazy. Jungkook pulls out abruptly and he comes. His cum spills all over the floor and his hands.

You turn around and see him cumming. He looks over at you when he stops spewing his cum.

You are both breathing heavily. Jungkook pulls on his boxers and pants, which he has slightly polluted. You put on your thong and pants and are afraid to look up at him. Jungkook looks at you and a confident smile spreads across his face. You pretend to fix your clothes.

"You have wipes? We're did a little a mess here." - He says and you hear a smile in his voice. You reach for the bag, but your hands are shaking. The warmth of his touch is still pulsating on your skin, and your breathing seems heavier than it should be.

Jungkook seems to sense your state, so he takes his time. He watches you take out the napkins, how you avoid his gaze, and smiles smugly.

"Are you always this quiet afterwards?" - His voice drops to an almost purring tone.

You start to get angry again, but instead of answering, you just toss him the package of napkins. He catches it with one hand and runs the other through his hair, causing the dark strands to become even more disheveled.

"Are you always this obnoxious afterwards?" - You snap back, finally looking up at him. He wipes his hands and the remaining cum on the floor. He stands up. Jungkook tilts his head to the side as if he's considering your question.

"I don't know." - He slowly moves closer, making you take a step back. "But I know I want to do it again." - Your heart jumps into your throat.

"There's not going to be another time." - You say sharply, straighten your clothes, and pretend nothing happened. Even though you want there to be another time. Jungkook laughs again. Deep, low, and this sound makes you even more confused.

"Why not? You liked it." - He states. You clench your jaws and look at him with a challenge.

"Don't you have anyone else to have fun with?" - You ask. He takes another step, and now there are barely a few centimeters between you. His eyes are dark, attentive, and something dangerous is burning in them.

"No. It's just you now." - He says. Your breath catches in your throat. He kisses you and you don't resist. What could that mean? Is this an invitation to fuck without obligation? But he's so annoying when he doesn't fuck you, how do you deal with it? He pulls away from your lips.

"Just don't tell anyone. This will be our secret. You don't want your brother to kill me, do you?" - Jungkook asks, he strokes your cheekbones. You laugh slyly.

"Half an hour ago, I was dreaming about it." - You admit honestly.

Jungkook smiles, and you see something triumphant in his eyes. You hate it - how he always wins your verbal battles, how he always knows which buttons to push to get you off balance.

But you hate it even more the way your heart jumps out of your chest at his proximity.

"So now you don't dream of my death anymore?" - He touches a strand of your hair as if it were something familiar, as if he had a right to do so. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to maintain control. His fingers slowly slide from your hair to your chin, and he lifts it slightly, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. "Don't worry, baby. I'll have time to make you dream of other things." - He says this with such confidence that your skin crawls with goosebumps. You pretend not to feel it.

"We'll see." - You snap back. Jungkook lets you go. He takes a step back and then pulls your phone out of his pocket.

"I forgot to tell you that I found your phone earlier." - He smiles, and you are frozen with shock. So he set this up? You blink, not fully believing his words.

"You... you found it earlier?" - Your voice trembles a little with anger.

"Yeah." - Jungkook throws the phone to you, and you automatically catch it. "I wanted to see what you'd do when you went back to look for him."

You squeeze the phone in your hand, feeling indignation boiling inside.

"You asshole!" - You punch him in the shoulder, but he doesn't even move, just smiles smugly.

"Maybe a little. But we've had fun, right?" - He takes his phone out of his pocket now. "Let's get out of here."

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Valentines

requested?: no pairing(s): Simon 'Ghost' Riley x afab!reader genre: fluff, smut warning(s): unprotected sex (not promoting this, wrap it please), soft sex, reader being a hopeless romantic, ghost not knowing what to do whatsoever on valentines, kinda oc reader (only for favourite animal, if you dont like it you can change it), oral (f recieving), face sitting, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, not proofread (and is so fucking rushed, im sorry) summary: 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘰𝘯 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦... word count: 1.9k a/n: happy valentines everyone! spending it alone yet again, but its okay because we have a whole ass ghost fic with soft sex and valentines. hope everyone has a lovely day wherever you are, even the single people and the people with partners (i am not the latter). i also promise that i am almost done the alex volkov and happy go lucky reader fic, so it should be out over the weekend, i js wanted to give you a valentines special as i did last year (my first ever fic i think), either way, it is almost done! remember to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! (honestly, i apologise in advance because this was so rushed so ya'll could have a valentines special out on valentines, so i am so sorry ya'll if this is shit) -Cilla

simon never got the point of valentines. it was just people in love celebrating their love and showing it through overly expensive flowers and chocolate, what was the point when people showed they loved each other every day? maybe it was the way he was brought up, or maybe it was the fact he had just never found the right person to celebrate with, or maybe he wasn’t built that way.

well, that’s what he thought, until you. you made your way into his life, all flowery and bubbly, but most of all, ever-loving. you loved almost everything. animals, nature, sweet treats. but most importantly, you loved him.

honestly, you hadn’t been together for long. you had started dating a few days after valentines the year before when johnny had managed to get him a blind date with someone who he thought simon would like. your date was a few months before valentines, but you didn’t decide you had liked each other until a few days after valentines.

simon didn’t not like you, he just thought you were too good for him and a girl like you should date someone who wasn’t like him, someone who hadn’t seen the harsh terrors of the world and someone who wouldn’t wake up from night terrors almost every night. but you didn’t care about all that and fought for him, going on date after date until the two of you eventually became romantic partners.

so, you had both never celebrated valentines together and simon honestly didn’t know what you wanted. he knew your favourite animal was an otter, so he got you an otter teddy to add to your collection, but other than that, he didn’t know. you had insisted you didn’t want anything or much, but he wanted to spoil you the way you deserved.

he had been on deployment for a few months prior to valentines, and he was coming back the day before. that was how he had managed to get you a teddy. he was sure you would love it. as soon as he got home, he hid it somewhere he knew you wouldn’t find it (up a height). and spent the day with you (and inside of you), catching up with what he missed while he was gone.

you both went to bed together later that night after watching a sappy romance movie which simon had complained the whole time (you were sure he truly loved it) before you went off to bed and he was inside of you once again. once you had fallen asleep that night, he had managed to book you both a table at your favourite restaurant before letting you curl against him and went to sleep as well.

he woke up first the following morning, immediately untangling himself from you to go and retrieve the things he had gotten you. it wasn’t much, but it was quite expensive, which he knew you would yell at him for, but he didn’t care. he wanted to spoil his girl.

“happy valentines, lovie” he smiled when you woke up. you sat up immediately, wiping the sleep from your eyes and smiling. he hugged you as you hugged him back.

when you both pulled away, he pulled the otter teddy from behind his back, your eyes went wide and your face broke out into an even wider smile.

“oh my god, si, thank you so much, i love him!” you took him from him softly and held him up to your chest which was still bare from the night before. “i think i’m gonna name him olly”

simon smiled at you. it was something he had always admired about you, how you always managed to stay positive even when the world had turned to shit. simon was stiff as you hugged him again. you could tell it was somewhat awkward for him as he had never celebrated valentines before, so he didn’t really know what to do.

he also pulled out a small ring, and you got him a new watch as well as a chain with the both of your initials on.

you were both in bed afterwards, sharing soft yet very intimate kisses. his hands were all over you while yours were resting on his shoulders.

they were soft and small until the kisses started to get more deep and passionate. you shifted so you were straddling his thighs. you were both still naked from the previous night, so you didn’t have to do much. you whimpered softly into his mouth as you grinded down on him.

you could feel him beginning to harden beneath you as you continued to grind down on him, your slick beginning to coat his thighs. he pushes you away.

“I want you to sit on my face” he says bluntly, his eyes lidded and full of lust. you bite your lip softly.

you were insecure enough to not want to crush him, but then again you had also done it before, so you knew it wouldn’t be that bad. you moved up the bed until you were straddling his face.

he grabbed your thighs and pulled you all the way down. his mouth latched to your clit, sucking and licking as he licked a stripe up your folds, shoving his tongue inside of your hole. you moaned and whimpered softly as he did so, gripping onto his hair as he did so.

he licked and slurped you for all you’re worth, making you moan and whimper. you ground down against his face, wanting as much friction as he could give you. you threw your head back as he did so. simon held your thighs down against his face so you wouldn’t move away, sensing you were getting close.

“oh god, si- m’ gonna come” you moan out, continuing to grind against his face as he kept slurping your cunt up as though it was his last meal, eventually adding a couple fingers and curling them inside of you, making you moan harder and louder. yeah, you were definitely going to come now.

“mhm” he grunts against your pussy, sending vibrations that made you jolt. “come for me then” he mumbles against your cunt, the vibrations were making you go absolutely feral, making you feel more sensitive by the second.

it only took a few more sucks and curls inside of you before your juices were splattered all over his face, simon wasn’t complaining as he just slurped everything up as though his life depended on it. he continued to ride you out what felt like your longest-lasting orgasm ever.

he moved you down his body so you were back sitting on his lap, he wiped your juices from his chin, a shit-eating grin on his face as he did so. you watched too intently as he did so. you clenched around nothing, your ovaries feeling like they were about to explode with how horny you felt at that moment in time.

he smirks and props himself up on his elbows.

“gonna need you to ride me now, lovie” he says, it sounded condescending, and from your previous position over his face, your thighs wouldn’t last long before they gave out. he must be a mind reader at this point, because he then added “oh don’t worry, lovie, i’ll help you”

it was almost subconscious in the way his hands moved to your hips to lift you onto his hardened cock. the tip was red and already leaking pre-cum. he was always massive, no matter how many times the two of you had sex, you would always need a few seconds to adjust to his size. as he slowly lowered you onto him, you had to bite your tongue to stop you making a guttural sound.

it took you a few seconds to adjust to his size, bearing in mind you had last had sex less than 24 hours ago, and began moving your hips slightly. it started off with just rolling your hips on hip, rolling them in soft circles to get yourself going at first, but then you began to bounce softly.

simon’s hands stayed on your hips the whole time, helping you bounce on his cock. simon was never usually a vocal person in bed, but he always loved when you rode him with him helping you, so that’s the only point in which he would become vocal. he was letting out the occasional grunt and groan as he bounced you.

it was beginning to be him doing all the work, you doing nothing and letting him lift and slam your hips back down on hip. his pelvis was getting soaked with your juices as your cunt squelched with his large cock. it was full trying to accommodate his full length.

you were beginning to get tired and simon knew this as you were putting less and less effort into bouncing on his cock. he began to start moving his hips upwards to meet yours when they were going down, making him hit a whole new place inside of you, making you yelp at first.

you then started to moan louder as his length was hitting that sweet spot inside of you over and over, making your cunt squelch louder as well as your moans that reciprocated the volume of your pussy.

he had a smirk on his face the entire time, but his smirk got wider when he decided to reach a hand down to play with your puffy and overstimulated clit, making you jolt and whimper. you were getting closer and closer with each passing moment and you knew at some point you were going to come, you could feel it and simon could feel his orgasm coming on.

he continued to meet your downward thrusts with his upwards ones, making you make sounds you didn’t know you could ever make.

the rubbing on your clit and simon’s cock repeatedly hitting that oh-so sweet spot inside of you was too much. the knot was forming in your stomach and it was tightening fast.

“it’s okay lovie, let go, come for me” simon says, it sounds strained and you could tell he was close too by the way he looked down at where the two of you met then threw his head back. “fuck, you’re so gorgeous” he says with his head back before looking at you with his hooded eyes.

that was all it took for you to come completely undone for him. letting your hips come down one more time before throwing your head back and clamping so hard down on him that he could have sworn you resembled a vice, but he didn’t mind because that was what made him come too, spilling his white-hot cum all over your velvety walls.

you came down from your highs not long later, panting and reaching for each other’s embrace.

simon picked you up with him still inside of you and only pulled out when you reached the bathroom. he sat you down on the toilet, leaving for you to for you to do your business then helping you wash your hands before running a bath for the both of you.

“i got us a table at that place you like” he says softly as he helps you get into the bath first before climbing in behind you. you smiled and thanked him, saying he was perfect. you leaned your head back against him, on his chest.

maybe simon didn’t mind the overly expensive flowers and chocolate if it meant he got to see the love of his life happy.

[absurdthirst]

St. Valentine's Miracle {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.9k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, insults, mentions of prostitution, mentions of rape, violence, fighting, Tovar kills a man, adrenaline fueled sex, begging, slightly subby Pero, cock riding, unprotected sex, anger, miscommunication, pregnancy, morning sickness, throwing up, stubbornness, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), pregnancy sex, gentle Pero, childbirth

Comments: Pero Tovar infuriates you. One night, things boil over and you shift from enemies to lovers with a surprising result that changes everything on St. Valentine's Day.

A/N: ❤️❤️HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!!!❤️❤️

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Pero Tovar tilts his cup back, letting the last swallow of ale slide down his throat before he slams his cup down on the worn smooth rough hewn table in the middle of the tavern. A belch comes out and he smirks when he opens his mouth again. “Another ale, wench.” He demands, knowing that the request will infuriate you. Not because of the coin he spends. No, you will greedily pocket that. It’s because of him calling you a wench. Even though that is what you are, you seem to think you deserve to be called the tavern keeper. So, just to irritate you, Pero calls you a wench every time he gets a chance just to set your teeth on edge.

You clench your jaw, shaking your head as you pour another ale for the ill mannered mercenary and you carry it over to him, slamming it down in front of him so it spills. You grab the empty tankard and he smirks, tilting his head towards your cleavage that's in his face when you lean over him. "You're a pig." You scoff, grabbing your rag to wipe down the table.

Pero grunts as he reaches for the mug. Ever since he arrived in this village, ready to settle down and put his sword down for good, the two of you have been at each other’s throats. It might be because he asked how much it would be to fuck you along with he room he had wanted for the night, but how was he to know you weren’t a whore? He had assumed it was a brothel when he walked in and found a woman behind the bar. “And you are a shrew.” He shoots back.

You scoff, “I’d rather be a shrew than have your unwanted attention, Tovar.” You intentionally drag the wet rag over his face when you walk past and he sputters, “bitch.” You smirk as you stride to the bar, looking to the other patrons who are waiting for their drinks.

He scowls as he watches you stroll away from him without the extra swish a whore would put into her step. Not trying to entice a man, but your hips move generously on their own. You are confident and since that first disastrous interaction, you tolerate him like a festering sore. It wasn’t his fault he had thought you were to be bought although it never crosses his mind to apologize for the mistake. He never had to do that before. William was the sweet talker, he did the glowering. He takes another sip of his mug and then decides that he’s hungry. “Wench! Bring me some stew!” He demands, waiting until you are busy again just to get back at you.

You clench your jaw, unable to believe he is demanding. “Bastard.” You murmur under your breath, deciding to take your time to serve everyone who has been waiting before you head into the kitchen to pour a bowl of stew for him. You are tempted to spit in it but you don’t, carrying it over to the grumpy Spaniard. “Here you go.” You slam it down so it spills over a little, “impatient prick.”

He chuckles darkly. “You decided to take too long.” He huffs. “I am not hungry now.” He smirks when you whirl around and glare at him. He knows he will eat it, but it is satisfying to see your eyes flash with anger and hatred for him. “It is probably poisoned anyway.”

"I wouldn't waste the poison on someone like you." You retort, "eat it or don't. You are still paying for it." You hiss and he chuckles, enjoying seeing you so riled up and you take a breath, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "Enjoy your meal, sir." You offer and spin around, making your way back to the bar.

Pero tucks into the stew after a moment. Eating the delicious meal eagerly. You make better food than he does and it’s not often that he would go a week without coming to eat here while drinking his ale. He just enjoys the way you spit at him.

You watch Pero from the corner of your eye as you wipe down the counter. The men are getting louder, rowdier, and you are glad you have the knife strapped to your thigh. Pero tilts his head back to sip his ale and you can't help but admire his neck, strong and muscular as he gulps. He's dangerous and a prick but damn if he isn't handsome. It's a shame he's such a prick.

“Her cunt has to be tighter than a fist.” His eyes cut over to where the two brothers that he has been at odds with talk loudly at their table. He doesn’t like many men, only one man he has ever counted as a friend and he had turned back to China to chase a woman, but he loathes these two. He itches to put a knife in the youngest throat, just to have some blessed silence from the ridiculous boasts. “Good thing you will never know.” He grunts, smirking as he takes another sip of the ale.

The younger one snorts, "says you, Tovar. She wants me. I can tell. She keeps looking over here with a look in her eyes." He smirks and his brother nods, "she definitely needs a cock inside her. Maybe she will relax a little." He smirks and you look over just as the brother winks at you. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose but he waves you over. You sigh under your breath, knowing you need to go over there if he wants more ale. You make your way through the tavern and approach their table, "what can I get you?" You ask, gripping your skirts.

“Bend over and lift your skirts.” The older brother comments, making Pero snort and roll his eyes. At least he had offered coins for the use of your cunt. “Want to see how loud you scream in pleasure.” He continues, making Pero chuckle in disbelief. “Hard to make someone scream when you can’t find your cock beneath your belly.” He huffs as he finishes his stew and pushes the bowl back.

You chuckle, agreeing with Pero, and the brother scowls, standing from his seat. You fumble for your knife but he grabs your arms, “you dare to fucking insult me? You fucking bitch. Only good for one thing.” He growls, tightening his grip and he tries to spin you to push you face down onto the table.

Pero has no problem insulting you, trading barbs and venom with glee. He wouldn’t touch you without your agreement and he doesn’t allow any other men to abuse women around him. Especially not one who brings him his ale. The chair scrapes back loudly as he leaps up and slams against elder brother, knocking you away from his grip and growling furiously as he faces the bastard. “Don’t fucking touch her.” He warns dangerously.

You scramble away from him, chest heaving, and you watch as Pero sizes up the brother. He’s bigger than Pero but that doesn’t stop the Spaniard from getting in his face. He growls and the younger brother stands, “is she yours? I didn’t fucking think so, Tovar. So she’s fair game for everyone.”

Pero scoffs and shakes his head. “She chooses.” He spits out. “And she didn’t choose any of the limp pricks here.” His eyes cut over to you, finding you watching with wide eyes and he glances back at the two brothers. “Leave and I’ll let you breathe for another day.”

The brother snorts, looking over at you, “do you want me to fuck that pretty little cunt?” He coos and you clench your jaw, “no. No. Get the fuck out of my tavern.” You hiss, “you are barred.”

It’s obvious that he didn’t like that answer, the younger brother reaching for his dagger and Pero chuckles darkly. “Amigo, I would not do that if you wish to see the next sunrise.” He promises. “Leave and fight another day, eh?”

The brother bristles and you narrow your eyes at him, knowing he is going to struggle to walk away but his brother pulls on his shoulder. “Fuck you.” He growls, shrugging off his brother, and he brings his hand up, smacking your face so hard your head turns. “No bitch tells me what to do.”

Pero lunges at the older brother. Growling as he reaches for the dagger that is strapped to his waist. Fury clouding his vision and he grabs the other man’s hand, bringing his forehead down to slam against his, head butting him as he starts a fight with the two brothers.

You gasp, stumbling back as Pero fights the brothers. You never expected him to defend you and you fumble to pull the knife from your thigh under your skirts. Gripping it, you watch as Pero swings his knife at the older brother while the younger one stalks behind him. You step closer, acting before you think as you swipe his arm with your knife to stop him.

He sees the younger man behind him, knowing that he will do something, so he turns right as you cut him with your knife. “Bitch!” He cries out grabbing his arm before he backhands you, launching himself towards you. “I’ll teach you to say no to me and my brother!” He yells, doubling over when Pero punches him in the stomach and grabs the back of his shirt to throw him over the table. The older brother attacks him and without a second’s thought, Tovar turns and drives his blade deep into the man’s gullet.

You stumble back into the benches, watching the man choke on his own blood as Pero withdraws the knife. He falls to his knees and his brother screams in anger, surging forward to attack Pero. You grip your knife, now coated in blood, wanting to help the Spaniard but he swings his fight, punching the remaining brother while the other slumps down on the floor, choking a few more times before he goes silent.

Pero grabs the man’s shirt, hauling him close to growl fiercely. “Take your brother’s worthless body and flee.” He hisses. “Or I will kill you too.” He shoves him away and watches as the man falls back over the broken chair behind him and scrambles over to his brother’s body. Terrified that he would actually be killed. Those patrons who had not fled at the beginning of the fight quickly rush out of the tavern while Pero stands there calmly, wiping his blade clean and resheathing it in his belt. His dark eyes turn towards you, flickering down to the bloody dagger still in your grip and then back up to your wide eyes. “Another ale.” He tells you, bending down and picking up his cup off the floor.

You stare at him in shock, unable to believe he sits down and holds the tankard up towards you. You wipe the bloody knife on your skirts and you lift them to shove the knife back in your sheath and you take his cup with a shaking hand to refill it.

 The younger brother finally hauls his brother’s body out of the tavern, the place quiet except for the crackling of the fire in the hearth as you come and set the cup down in front of him. “The business is gone tonight.” He observes as he picks the cup up and takes a thirsty swallow. He feels kind of guilty that your business has died off for the night.

You glance around, finally realizing that the tavern had emptied and you shake your head, "you've scared everyone off. Now - now I will lose coins." You growl at him, the adrenaline transforming into anger. "Bastard." You murmur as you fetch him another ale. You slam it down on the table in front of him, ale sloshing, and you watch him casually take a sip, "drink up. I am closing."

He snorts and leans back against the chair. “Not very grateful for saving you.” He grunts. “Perhaps you did want your skirts tossed up.” He takes another sip of his ale, draining it until it is gone and stands to walk to the door.. “Should I call the younger one back?” He asks as he strides away

You lean against the table, chest heaving, and you growl before you charge over to him before he opens the door. “You’re a bastard.” You hiss at him, grabbing his upper arm to stop him from walking out, “and you are an ass.” He spins around, eyebrows raised, “I’m an ass for stopping them from taking what doesn’t belong to them?” He asks and you shake your head, “you’re an ass because - because-” You cut yourself by cupping his cheeks and you press your lips to his, heart pounding in your chest.

Groaning, Pero’s arms wrap around your body and he spins you around to press you against the same table he has just left. Ravenous as he licks into your mouth and tastes you when you gasp in surprise. He wants you. He’s wanted you from the first time he had seen you, thinking to buy the night between your thighs but you hadn’t been for sale. He reaches down and squeezes your ass as he hardens in his breeches. The adrenaline is still racing in his blood and turning to lust until you push him away. “What-“ he frowns, confused. Your chest is heaving and your lips are swollen from his attention.

“Shut up. Don’t talk and ruin this.” You demand, grabbing his hand from your ass to guide him through the tavern to your quarters near the kitchen. No one is allowed in here except you and that’s how it’s been until now. “Strip.” You order, wanting to see his body, one you’ve imagined more times than you’ve ever admit, even with a knife to your neck.

His brows pull together but he starts to unbutton the vest that he has started wearing over his shirt. It’s not as thick as the leather armor he had been used to, but it’s an extra layer of protection. Pulling out extra daggers that he has hidden and dropping his clothes to the ground. Pulling his shirt over his head and then bending down and hopping around on one foot as he pulls off his boots. Standing straight to find you smirking as he reaches for the laces of his breeches.

You stand there, watching him as he bares his body in front of your hungry eyes. Your chest heaves and you reach up to slowly undo the laces of your dress as he works on his breeches.

He is already half hard, but he shucks his breeches down with no shame. His cock is a good size and he’s never had any reason to doubt he could satisfy a woman. It bobs heavily, still thickening and growing as he kicks aside his breeches and stands proudly in front of you.

You shrug off the top layer of your dress and you freeze when you see his cock bouncing as he stands there. He's strong, scarred, and intimidating, but you won't let that show as you stand, continuing to undo your dress until it drops from your form. You stand naked before him, heart thumping in your chest, and you surge forward to press your lips to his again, bare skin against his.

It has been a long time since Pero has been completely naked with a woman. He groans, hands sliding down your shoulders and back, over your sides and hips until he is grabbing your ass and pulling you closer. “Hermosa.” He groans against your lip, cock twitching against your belly. So often the women he paid to fuck would just lift their skirts, so to feel your bare breasts against his chest is wonderful.

You moan as your hands caress his back, feeling the scars from battles he survived, and you slide your hand lower until you're gripping his cock. His groan is muffled against your chin and you chuckle, squeezing him and feeling him grow in your grip. "Beg me." You demand, "beg to cum."

He scoffs, scowling at you. He doesn’t beg to cum. You squeeze his cock again and he twitches in your hand. “I want to fuck you.” He admits after a moment. “I want you to beg.” You repeat and he huffs, knowing you could just as easily send him away and he would be left with just his hand for pleasure. His own hand comes up to cup your breast as his other squeezes your ass. “Let me fuck you, hermosa.” He croons softly. “You won’t regret a night on my cock.”

“Not good enough.” You squeeze his cock, pumping him slowly and his eyes flutter at the sensation. You know you won’t get what you want by telling him so you’ll get it with action. “Go lay down.” You order, pointing to the cot in your room.

It is rare that he takes orders that don't benefit him and this is no exception. You want him and if you want to ride him, he has no objections. Especially with your bare tits in his face. He moves over to the cot and lays down, finding it soft and sweet smelling, smelling like you. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts to pump it as he watches you with dark eyes.

You watch him, your cunt clenching with need, but you refuse to show it as you slowly make your way over to the cot. “You look desperate.” You mock him as you shift to straddle his thighs, looking down at the almost purple cock in his hand, “it’s pathetic.”

“It is.” His voice is raspy, low. He doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down his aching cock. “It has been a long time since I have been buried deep inside a hot cunt.” He licks his dry lips and reaches out to caress your breast. “Hermosa.” He murmurs softly.

You bat his hand away, liking how needy he looks. So unlike the harsh and demanding mercenary that orders ale in your tavern. You reach down to cover his hand with yours, working his cock. "You have to beg to fuck me." You remind him, leaning down to dribble your spit on the purple head of his cock.

“Mierda.” Pero hisses. His thighs tensing and his hands harden on your skin for a brief second before he makes himself relax. He has no wish to hurt you and make your soft skin tender. You are beautiful and he moans when your spit is rubbed over his cock with your hand. “Let me have you.” He begs breathlessly. “Sit on my cock. Let me feel your cunt around me.”

You giggle, happy to see the glazed look of lust and need in his eyes. You are dripping between your thighs and you hate how much you want him. The terrifying experience makes you desperate to feel something other than fear. You let go of his cock and he whines, making you chuckle. "Patience, Tovar." You tut and you shift up to straddle his hips, lifting yours so you can grip his cock. "Please." He murmurs and you position him at your entrance until you slowly sink down onto him.

Pero makes a strangled sound, his hands whipping to your hips and he holds them in an iron grip but he doesn’t force you to take him faster. He doesn’t snap his hips up to bury his cock deep like he wants to. His toes curl and he hisses out curses under his breath in Spanish as you take him. Loving how hot and tight you are around him.

You take him slow inside you, loving the tortured look on his face, and you shift your hands to press your palms to his chest. He's thick and he stretches you in a way that makes your breath catch. "You look so desperate, Tovar. Like my cunt is the gateway to heaven." You smirk, caressing his chest.

Scowling at you, he growls under his breath as his cock twitches inside you. Pulling a moan out of you and it’s his turn to smirk. “You are the one riding my cock like a needy whore.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, to spit at him. Lunging forward, he pushes you back while he lowers his head to wrap around one of your nipples.

Your breath catches and you moan his name, your fingers tangling in his hair to push him harder into your chest. “You’re a bastard.” You declare breathlessly but it doesn’t hit as hard as it should when you are grinding down onto his cock.

He chuckles against your skin, eyes flicking up to your face as his tongue slowly flicks against the distended nub. He sucks it into his mouth and hums as he pulls deep and harshly against it. Loving how your cunt walls clench around him.

You pull on his hair, dragging his face from your tit, and his neck tilts as you look down at him. “You’re a bastard.” You repeat with more conviction, rocking onto his cock a little faster as you tug on his hair and you lean down to kiss his neck, nipping it seconds later.

He groans in pleasure, sliding his hands down to your ass to help you rock on his cock before he slaps it. “You like it, eh? Me being a bastard? You like a man who is rough?” You roll your eyes at him and huff when you pull away so he drags your lips to his, his hand around then back of your neck to hold you close.

You let him push his tongue into your mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair again, and he grunts when you bite down on his lip when he withdraws his tongue. “You’re a prick who thinks he can act how he wants.” You hiss back at him, reaching for his hands from your back and you shift, pushing him back when your fingers wrap around his wrists, lifting his hands above his head. Your tits sway in his face and you are surprised he allowed you to do this. “Need someone to show you how to behave. You’re an animal.”

He watches your breasts bounce, twitching inside you but he doesn’t try to thrust up into your heat. You obviously want control. “So you will teach me?” He chuckles darkly and twitches inside you again. “You are not a princess though, are you?” He rasps out. “You are a violent wench, drawing blood tonight.” He is honestly proud of you for defending yourself, for helping him when you could have just watched. “A demon.”

You growl at his depiction of you, knowing that he’s not wrong but hearing it spoken out loud has you squeezing his wrists in your grip. “Had to help you since you had two on one and I wasn’t sure if you could handle it.” You taunt him, knowing it’s a lie but you want to rile him up.

He smirks, enjoying your banter and the way you taunt him. “I would have had no problem killing both of them.” He promises. “You are the one who was shaking when bringing me an ale.”

“In anger. You infuriate me. I have been groped and you - you escalated it. I still need to mop the blood from the floor.” You hiss. “You act without a thought.” You slam back onto his cock.

He huffs. “No, I kept a man from taking what was not his.” He grunts, correcting you. “No one else was coming to your aid.” Everyone else in the tavern had silently watched. “A man who rapes a woman deserves to die.”

“I had it handled.” You lie, knowing that he stopped one of the worst things from happening to you. You grind down, shifting to press your chest to his and he hisses at the change in the angle. “Whatever you want to believe.” He growls and you let go of his wrist, gripping his chin instead, “I don’t need rescuing.”

His dark eyes are steady on yours, watching you. “You don’t need rescuing.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around you and starting to move his hips. Thrusting up into your body while he holds you.

A cry escapes your lips and you lean down to press your lips to his, cupping his cheek and you caress it. You slide your tongue into his mouth, letting him fuck you and you moan, rocking back onto him.

This is what he craves. Kissing you back as he drives his hips up again and again. Burying himself so deep in your cunt that your walls spasm around him. One arm anchors you in place while the other cups your breast, pinching the nipple roughly as he groans into your mouth.

You pant, getting lost in the sensations, and your breath puffs against his neck as he thrusts up into you. “Fuck.” You curse, “Pero.” You are getting worked up as he thrusts up into you.

He loves the little sounds you make. The desperate mewls of pleasure that pour out of your mouth as you cling to him. Your body is getting slick with sweat and he pants out your name, rocking steadily up into you. “Cum for me.” He growls, desperate to hold out until you shout his name. 

You struggle to breathe as he thrusts up into you, your cunt pulsing as he pushes you and pushes you until you break. You cry out his name, falling apart around him, and you soak his cock. “Fill- fill me up.” You beg, needing to see and feel him fall over the edge.

Pero’s eyes roll back and he hisses through his teeth. Snarling at the command and eager to give you what you want. His grip on you tightens and it only takes a few thrusts before he is burying his cock deep and flooding your womb with his hot seed, groaning your name.

You watch him as he cums, filling your cunt and you caress his cheek, leaning down to rest your forehead against his as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck.” You curse, feeling exhausted and it takes you a while to remember the man beneath you but when you do, you shift off him, walking over to the basin to clean yourself up with a wet rag.

Pero watches you. His eyes follow you as you clean up and he doesn’t know what to say, sure that you will kick him out of your bed. So he is surprised when you bring the rag back over to him and climb into the cot with him again. “Do not ruin this.” You huff when he opens his mouth, so he doesn’t say anything. Smirking slightly as you settle down beside him and he tosses the rag to the floor after cleaning up and he closes his eyes. Eager to sleep after such a long day.

You find yourself curled into him when you wake up in the middle of the night. His arm around your waist and you smile, closing your eyes and you let yourself drift back off to sleep. You feel safe in his arms. 

****

The early morning sun hits your face and you wince, blinking as you try to adjust to the brightness. You inhale deeply and stretch, shifting to look at Pero, but you frown when you find the space he occupied is empty. The sheets cool when you touch them, and you hate that tears spring into your eyes as you get out of your bed. You reach for your shift and pull it over your head, making your way out into the tavern to see if Pero is out there. He isn't. You cross your arms and shake your head, glancing around and your eyes widen when you see the blood on the floor has been cleaned up. You are surprised and you huff, unsure of why he left without even saying goodbye.

Pero curses as he pulls the stone out of the horse's hoof, pressing against the beast’s belly and then dropping the foot. The hoof is bruised and even though he only got half of the field planted, he couldn’t make the poor beast lame by making it work while injured. “Mierda.” He hisses, straightening up and starting to unstrap the horse from the plow to guide it back to the barn. Since he was done early, he could fix the chair that had been broken in the fight last night and take it back to you. Finding himself eager to see if you are happy that he had cleaned up and fixed what was broken. Maybe he could spend the night in your bed again. It was the best sleep he had since the exhausted sleep at the wall. He smirks as looks at the barrel of water. He will have to bathe before he visits the tavern again.

You are in a sour mood all morning, preparing the stew and bread to serve and when you allow your first patrons to enter around midday. You sigh and wipe your hands on your apron, hating that you search for Pero in the crowd of men that appear. You get lost in your work, serving ale and bowls of stew until he finally walks in. He left you this morning without a word and that hurt.

By the time he had cleaned up and finished fixing the chair, the sun was starting to hang low in the sky. Holding the fixed furniture in his hand, he strides into the tavern. Immediately seeking you out, finding you bending over a table to serve ales to a group of travelers, he grunts in appreciation of the curve of your ass. Remembering how it had felt bare in his hands as you bounced on his cock. “The dead man did not stop visitors today.” He grunts, eyeing the travelers with a small smirk on his face.

You frown when he seems to return victoriously to the tavern. You huff, "I wondered where the chair went." You look down at the chair he fixed, your heart thumping, but you know he only fixed it because he felt guilty.

“What kind of stew did you make tonight?” He isn’t offended at your lack of enthusiasm for his appearance, setting the chair down and sitting in it. Secretly happy that the damn thing didn’t collapse. He’s not a furniture maker. He was a mercenary and now he’s trying to be a farmer for all the good it is doing him.

You stare at him, remembering that empty bed. He may be trying his hand at farming but he doesn’t get up at dawn with the others. Always a late start, so that excuse doesn’t wash. You swallow and glance around the tavern, taking a moment, before you look at him again, “chicken.” You declare, “killed it this morning, imagining it was you.”

He frowns at the venom in your voice and then tightens his jaw. “Then I’ll just have an ale, wench.” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at you and trying to figure out why you are still spitting at him after letting him spend the night in your bed. He had thought cumming would have made you sweeter. “I have no use for a stew to curdle my stomach.”

You huff, narrowing your eyes at him when you realize he likely killed the man because he wanted your cunt for himself. You make your way through the tavern, pouring a tankard of ale, and you just barely resist slamming it down in front of him, wanting to pour it over his head, but you sarcastically say “don’t choke on it” and spin on your heel.

Pero watches you stalk off, frowning slightly as he reaches for the ale you had poured him. He had hoped things would be different, but you still despise him. It was a good thing he had left your bed when he woke up, hating to think what your wrath would have been like had you woken to find him still asleep in your bed. “Shrew.” He huffs under his breath, tipping the mug up.

****

You frown as you look in the mirror. Standing naked, you turn to the side and back again, confused by your rounded stomach. “I can’t be.” You murmur, rubbing the small bump as you try to remember when you last bled. You squint as if it works to help you think but soon your eyes widen. “Tovar. You bastard.” You growl, knowing it’s not the man’s fault. In all your emotional turmoil after he abandoned your bed once he got what he wanted, you’d forgotten to drink your tea. You’re with child. You try not to panic, knowing you have a stable income and a home in the tavern but you worry for your child’s acceptance in the village. They will be branded a bastard, cast aside, but you know you’ll love them. Inhaling deeply, you dress and decide whether to tell Tovar. You don’t have long to decide as your name is called and you need to get to work. The stew needs to be prepared.

Pero blows out a sigh as he enters the tavern, sure that he will once again butt heads with you. It’s not as satisfying as it once had been, not when he knows how you moan and how soft your skin is. You’ve never allowed him back into your bed, not that he’s asked. The tavern isn’t full yet, but it will be. The days are getting shorter and he’s just hauled in the last of his crops. It was a decent year and he is ready to rest after the backbreaking work. “Ale!” He calls out as he moves over to his normal table.

You sigh when you hear his voice. You have been worried about how you’d feel when you see him knowing you’re carrying his child. You pour a cup of ale and carry it over to him, setting it down. “Anything else?” You ask softly, so taken back by your revelation that you can’t even muster the energy to be snarky.

He’s so surprised by your lack of attitude that he freezes for a moment, jaw slaw. “Um, stew.” He decides, just as quiet. “It smells good.” It makes his mouth water almost as much as you do. You look pretty, although maybe a little tired.

You nod, knowing you struggled to cook the stew this morning but you powered through after placing some herbs under your nose. Your heart thumps at seeing Tovar, your hands gripping the bowl as you remember what he looked like beneath you, and you shake your head, reaching for the ladle. Your stomach twists as the smell hits your nose but you take a deep breath and carry it through the tavern. Your stomach lurching and you try to calm down but when you stand in front of Tovar, you gag and throw up straight into the bowl of stew.

Leaping up, Pero manages to avoid the splash. Taking your waist gently and reaching up to hold you steady as you grip the edge of the table and empty your belly of pitiful amounts of food and drink. It might be lucky that you haven’t eaten much, but you work too hard to survive off that. “Come, hermosa.” He huffs when you finally stop retching, “let me help you to your room.” He doesn’t give you a chance to argue with him, turning you around and steering you towards the back. “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.” He jokes.

You shake your head, “I- shit. I’m so sorry.” You manage to choke out but he guides you to the chair in the corner and you watch him as he rushes to grab some water and a wet rag for you to clean yourself up. You sip the water and sigh, feeling a lot better. “Thanks.” You wipe your face with the wet rag and you sigh, “I need to get back.” Pero shakes his head, “no. You’re sick. You need to rest.” You huff, “I can’t. I need to run the tavern.” Pero growls at your stubbornness, “idiota.” He hisses, “you need to rest.” You ignore him and stand up, swaying slightly, and his hands grip your waist after he rushes over to you. “I’m fine.” You push his hands away, ignoring the way his eyes widen. “You’re-” He chokes and you snort, finishing his sentence, “pregnant.”

Pregnant. He’s never gotten a woman pregnant before. At least not that he knows of. Never wanting to leave a trail of bastards behind him because of how the child was treated. As if they were to blame for their parents. “Pregnant.” He whispers, stepping back and his eyes slide over to the cot where you had created a new life. “Are you sure?” He asks, making you snort. “I have not bleed since that night.” You hiss and he knows you would not lie about something like that. “I-I” he trips over his tongue, unsure of what to say. “The babe makes you sick?”

You nod, “yes. I thought it was a malady. I have been sick for a few days and this morning…” You bring your hand to your stomach, “I noticed a bump.” You confess, “and then I tried to remember the last time I bled. It was before that night. I don’t expect anything. I am prepared to have this child alone.” You add, not wanting him to have some sense of duty.

Pero frowns and shakes his head. “The child will be a bastard. Shunned.” He huffs, not understanding why you would say such things. “You believe that men try to abuse you now?” He snorts. “They will come sniffing when your belly grows and they know a man crawled between your legs.”

“I can take care of myself.” You growl at him, “I have a home. I have coins. I can handle myself.” Pero shakes his head, “and a child? You think it’s fair for our child to grow up as a bastard? People telling him he has a whore for a mother.” His growl makes you react before you can think and your hand comes up to slap him. You stare at him in surprise at your action and Pero’s eyes are full of hurt. “Get out.” You demand, clenching your jaw.

He hisses, his cheek stinging from the slap but he would never hit you back. His fist clenches to keep from reaching for you again and he bows mockingly. “As my lady wishes.” He huffs before he turns on his heel and walks out of your room. He knows that some will see him come out of your private area and rumors will spread, but you seem to believe that you can handle it. He needs to think about what he will do next.

You choke, tears stinging in your eyes, and you stumble over to the chair. A sob escapes your lips and your hand comes down to rest on your belly. “It’s okay. We will be okay.” You promise, sniffing as you wipe your eyes, and you stand up. Inhaling deeply, you steady yourself and make your way back into the tavern. You have a job to do.

****

The next day Pero is at the tavern well before the doors open. You don’t rent rooms, so no one comes and goes at odd hours. He sees the smoke coming out of the chimney, a lazy little curl from a banked fire so it’s possible you are still sleeping as he glances around behind the building. It’s apparent you used to have a sizable stable and he wonders if at one point the tavern was an inn. Still, the space here would allow him to erect the spit he had built last night. The wagon he had dragged into town is unhitched from the horse and he glances towards the door only a few times before he starts to get to work.

You barely manage to drag yourself out of bed, your stomach churning, and you reach for the pot you’ve taken to storing next to your cot. You retch, bringing up last night's dinner until you can breathe again. You rub your belly, “you are trouble already. Just like your father.” You snort and you work fast to clean up and get ready for the day. You steel yourself to prepare the stew as you walk into the kitchen but you are surprised when you smell something cooking. You frown, glancing around the kitchen and when you can’t see anything, you walk outside. You’re met with the sight of Tovar stirring a pot and you are shocked. “What - what are you doing?”

Pero looks up at you, still in a chemise and your feet bare. “What does it look like?” He snorts. “You should get dressed, it’s cold outside.” He knows you have been sick, he heard you from out here and he hates that his babe is being so rough on you. “The stew should be ready in a few hours.” He adds, pulling the large ladle out and handing it on the edge of the spit that holds the heavy pot over the fire he had built underneath it. He frowns when he sees you still standing in the door.

You are confused, wondering why he’s cooking a stew. “Why- why did you - why did you do this?” You ask, crossing your arms to warm yourself up a little and your shift pulls tight over your small bump. He frowns, “you were sick yesterday because of the stew. I wanted to help. I have bread too.” He says, gesturing with his thumb to the wagon. “I don’t need help.” You remind him, watching as his eyes drop down to your belly.

“No one will eat stew you have emptied your belly into.” Pero scoffs, wondering if you will be stubborn the entire time. He wishes he could curse you for it, but he likes your strong willed nature. “You should go-“ Pero shakes his head and holds up his hand. “I am not leaving. The stew is made. Accept it, hermosa.”

Your instinct is to curse him but you are so surprised by his actions. “Fine. Stand out here and cook like a housewife.” You spit, spinning on your heel to stride back into the tavern to dress. It isn’t long before you have patrons and you are serving ale. “I’ll have a bowl of the stew.” One of the men asks and you nod, making your way outside to where Pero is stirring the stew. “I have one order of the stew.”

He smirks as he lifts a brow. “How are you going to carry it into the tavern when you can barely stomach the smell of it?” He asks, taking the bowl out of your hand and waving you away. “I will bring it.” He grumbles as he starts to serve up a generous portion of the stew. It’s rich and fragrant, although he can see you swallowing harshly at the scent. “Go inside. I will find him.” He huffs.

You nod, unwilling to argue when he steps away and you get a breath of fresh air. Leaning against the wall for a second, you wonder if you’ll be like this until the babe is born. You hope not. You’re going to struggle to work if that’s the case. You make your way back inside and see Pero serving the man, taking the coins for the ale and the stew, and when he passes by, you stop him. “Thank you.” You murmur, knowing you can’t let him do all this without a word of appreciation.

He doesn’t say anything, just nodding his head once and he holds out his hand to offer you the coins. “Let me know when someone else orders the stew.” He murmurs after a moment. “I will take care of it for you.” He doesn’t want to crowd you, knowing you will take offense, but it cannot be good to get sick every time you need to serve some stew.

You request stew several times from him until the ale is flowing and the customers are slowly making their way home. Your feet ache and you take a moment to sit down when you see Pero cleaning the stew pot outside. When he’s done, he strides into the tavern, and you stand to fetch him a cup of ale.

“You should rest.” Pero takes the ale and takes a large gulp of the brew. “I have to get more ale out of the cellar.” You groan softly and he frowns. “You lift those barrels?” He demands, aware that the casks of ale are smaller than some of the giant ones he has seen in some fortresses, but it is still too much for you to do by yourself. “I will do it, hermosa.” You stiffen angrily as if he has insulted you. “I don’t need your help.” You hiss, even as he can see how tired you are. “I can provide for myself just fine.” Pero grits his teeth, annoyed that you are being so stubborn. “Why are you being such a bitch?”

Your chest tightens and your pulse flutters in anger. “I’ve been alone since my mother died. I was one and four. I have had to do everything by myself. Survive. My mother let my father have the power over her. She didn’t know how to do anything and when he left, she fell apart and I had to take over. I had to be the parent. I am used to doing everything by myself and I don’t like owing anyone.” You answer truthfully, “so if that makes me a bitch then so be it.”

Pero frowns, softening and shuffling where he stands. Awkward and unsure of what to say. “Then be a bitch.” He says gruffly, nodding. “I will not stop helping. Even when you spit at me. It is my doing that you are sick. Leave the ale, I will do it before you open tomorrow.” He moves over to the table and sets down the last of the bread that he had brought. “Eat and rest. I will leave you in peace for now.” He nods to you again. “Buenos noches, hermosa.”

You watch him go, glancing at the bread he had left for you, and you sigh as you reach for it. You’re hungry and tired and annoyed at him for making it harder to hate him today. It’s easier for everyone if you push him away. You won’t suffer the heartbreak and your child won’t lose a parent. It’s best if they never know what they could’ve had.

The next morning, he’s at your back door before you are awake. Knocking quietly, and shuffling as he waits. He feels bare without armor and weapons, fingers twitching over the small wooden toy that he had carved last night. It’s rough and not very good, but he had remembered it being one of the few toys that he had when he was a boy.

You hear the knock and your heart thumps as you wrap your blanket around your shoulders, making your way to the front door with a candlestick in hand to defend yourself. You carefully open the back door and see Tovar standing there. “What are you doing?” You gasp, shocked to see him as you grip the candlestick.

“I’m here to change the barrels out.” He reminds you, grunting out the response with a small eye roll. “And give you this.” He thrusts the small wooden toy at you, waiting for you to mock the effort that he put into it. It’s poor quality, but he wants his child to have things that he had made for them.

You lower your arm with the candlestick and place it on the table by the back door before you take the small wooden horse with wide eyes, surprised that he can whittle something so delicate. “Tovar-” You murmur and he snorts, “I know it’s shit but I wanted our child to have one thing from me.” He says and tears sting in your eyes at the gesture. You’ve been teary since you found out and you realize the babe is really affecting you.

He frowns at your tears and shuffles, not good with emotions. “It’s not that bad.” He grumbles as he stares at you looking down at the little toy. “I had one, when I was a boy. Only toy I remember ever having.” He confesses. “My first sword was real.”

Your heart clenches at that, knowing he started fighting when he was very young to earn money for his family. “It’s - it’s perfect.” You assure him, “I love it.” Your eyes meet his and a tear falls down your cheek, “for our child.”

“I was a bastard.” He announces, jaw tense. “My father never acknowledged me. Never gave my mother anything for me.” Swallows harshly. “I am not the same man my father was.” He spits. “I’ve killed men, I’ve stolen. I lie. But I would never let my child starve, bastard or not.” He turns and moves towards the doorway that leads to the main area of the tavern to start moving the empty ale kegs out to make room for the new ones.

You can see the determination on his face and it makes your breath catch. He’s serious. “You don’t have to be - I don’t want you to be here through a sense of duty. Our child deserves to have two parents that love them. Not obligated to be around.” You say, fiddling with the toy.

Pero stops and turns back towards you. His eyes are unreadable and he swallows. “I never do anything I don’t want to do, hermosa.” He promises.

You know that's the case. He's as stubborn as a mule. You know he would run for the hills if he didn't want to be a father. You aren't convinced yet but you are softening. Must be the baby making you see him in a new light.

You don’t say anything else, so he turns back to the front room. Knowing that he needs to get the keg changed out and have you show him how to get into it to draw up mugs of ale. He’s not sure about things like this, but he knows that you need more rest, you can’t be running about all the time doing everything yourself.

**** 

It's been a few months since you found out you're with child and you thought Tovar would be long gone by now but he's here, changing kegs and cooking stew. As soon as he collects the coins for the payment, he deposits them into your hand. You are getting bigger but you've managed to conceal your bump beneath your skirts, not wanting anyone to know and already brand your child a bastard before they are even born. You have found yourself growing softer towards the Spaniard. He arrives at the tavern at dawn and leaves after the last patron has left. You are shocked by his dedication to you and the baby without any demands for physical appreciation and pretty words. He's also made more toys for the child, spending his free time gathering cloths and he even paid one of the older women to knit several clothes for the babe. He has proven himself to be someone you can rely on and that has made him infinitely more attractive. You watch him as he works and at night, you touch yourself to thoughts of the night you conceived the baby.

Pero grins as he runs his hand along the smooth surface of the wood. His carving has much improved. Nights spent alone, thinking about you growing his babe as he makes little toys has steadied his hand. Fixing broken tables and chairs for the tavern has taught him how to fit furniture together better. This piece, this is for you. The crib he has carved and built is already standing in the corner of his cottage, ready to deliver to you. Now that this piece is done, he will take a risk and show you how he feels. After all, it is St. Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

You take a drink of water and rest for a moment after you wash several dishes. Pero had come early to cook the stew and you had sent him to fetch some apples from the orchard nearby. You are craving an apple pie and you also want to bake to thank Pero for all his hard work. You look up as he walks in the tavern, his signature scowl on his face until his eyes meet yours and his expression softens. That makes your heart flutter. It’s St Valentine’s Day and your tavern has been full of amorous couples wanting a meal before they retire to the inn. You wipe down the counter as he walks over to you, bag of apples in his hand. “Thank you.” You smile, “I can’t wait to bake those.”

Pero nods and watches as you turn to move towards your dough that you have been working on. Baked pies and breads have been far easier on your stomach than the stews you serve your guests. He likes watching you as you work. “I will check the floor.” He announces. “You work on your pies, hermosa.”

You watch him go, strong shoulders and a threatening gait has your cunt clenching as you remember what he felt like beneath you. In the time he’s been helping, he’s opened up, talking to you even if you don’t respond, and you found his voice soothing and his stories interesting. Even if you sometimes roll your eyes. You prepare the pies with the apple and you place them in to cook as Pero bids goodbye to the last patron. “Lock the door. I’m closing early. No one is here. Apparently they are all celebrating love.” You snort, wiping your hands on your apron.

“Sí.” He frowns, sure that the pies were to sell, but you should be able to make some coins off of them tomorrow. “Come to your rooms.” He urges you. “I have something to show you.” He’s nervous, hoping you like the gifts he had managed to sneak into your bedroom while you had been busy.

You frown in confusion but nod, letting him guide you to your rooms with his hand on your back. You open the door and he ushers you in, waiting for you to notice and when you do, your eyes widen. “Oh my-” You choke, walking over to the crib. “You made this?” You ask him in awe, caressing the wood that’s been delicately carved.

“I did not know if you had one.” He explains, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “The babe- I thought it would be nice to have a bed for it to sleep in.” He hopes you like it. You look like you are about to cry again. He prefers when you yell at him over the tears. “If you do not like it-“ he shrugs helplessly.

You shake your head, turning towards him, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck. “Thank you.” You choke, sobbing as this becomes real. You’re going to be a mother. You’re going to have a baby. “It’s perfect.”

It's the first time he’s really touched you besides his fingers brushing yours when he gives you the coins since the day he found out you were pregnant. The bump pressing against his stomach is larger than it was before. His arms come around you and he holds tight for a moment. “There’s something else.” He tells you softly.

You pull back to look into his eyes, confused until he gently turns you. You gasp when you see what is at the end of your cot. “Pero…” You murmur in awe of his craftsmanship. You caress the trunk, admiring the carved butterflies and flowers in the wood. “It’s beautiful.” Your heart flutters and you can’t believe he made this for you.

“You deserve it.” He hums, watching you as your fingers trail over the delicate carvings. You are so beautiful, full of his child, full of life. “I didn’t see one, so I thought that you deserved a place to put your things.”

“I never took you as being observant.” You scoff playfully and he narrows his eyes, shaking his head, “I noticed. That night.” He reveals and you step closer to him, your hand on your bump. “Why - why did you do this?” You ask, looking back at the trunk.

“Open the trunk.” Pero orders quietly, watching you with dark eyes. “Please, hermosa.” You look surprised that he would use manners and he snorts in amusement. “I am not a man who speaks prettily, who has words to say.” He tells you as you kneel down in front of the trunk. “I am a man who speaks with his hands. His actions.”

You frown, confused by the request, but you open the trunk. "Pero." You gasp, pulling the fabric out of the trunk and the beautiful dress unfolds. The patterns are more intricate than anything you've ever seen before. The color is stunning. "It's - it's perfect." You choke, turning to look at him, the dress in your hands and you feel overwhelmed. "Where did you get this?"

“I had it made for you.” He explains. “From fabric I brought back from China.” He ducks his head, hoping you like it. “It is large enough for you to wear now, and when you have the babe, you can take it in.” He wanted you to enjoy it right away. “The patterns remind me of you.” He admits softly. “Hermosa….Beautiful.”

You look back at the dress, tracing the intricate pattern and you have never seen anything like this before. You gently lay the dress down in the trunk, shifting to stand and Pero rushes forward to take your hands, helping you stand. You look at him when you're upright, and his dark eyes are apprehensive. You know he's not a man of words and he's shown you how he feels in his actions. Your heart flutters and you surge forward, cupping his cheeks to press your lips to his.

Pero hums in surprise and his eyes flutter as he slowly wraps his arms around your thickened waist and draws you closer to him. Keeping the kiss just as gentle as it started, his heart pounds in his chest, hoping that you feel the same way.

The kiss is gentle, such a contrast from the rough nature of the mercenary. He pulls back after a moment and you caress his cheek. "I'll say it for both of us. I love you." You murmur, looking at him with adoration. You never imagined that you'd fall for him but seeing how he's been taking care of the tavern for you and now the gifts...it's hard to resist him.

“You do?” He whispers softly, thinking that he might be in a fevered dream. “You love me?” His hand moves around to cup your belly tenderly. “I love you and I love our child. I want to- to be here, with you.” He admits, pressing his forehead against yours. “To marry you.”

"Do you know what my first thought was when I saw the dress?" You ask softly, nudging his nose with yours. He doesn't say anything, wanting you to continue. You smile, "I imagined getting married in that dress. To you."

“Do you want to say our vows before the babe is born?” He asks seriously, arching a brow as he starts to smile. “We can see if the priest will marry us tomorrow.”

You can't believe this is happening but your chest tightens with happiness. "Tomorrow. I want to be your wife tomorrow." You promise, an excited giggle escaping your lips. Pero nods, "tomorow." You caress his cheek, "promise me you won't be easier on me just because I'm your wife."

Pero snorts in amusement. “You wouldn’t let me.” He predicts. “You will still grumble and fight, making my cock hard every time you do.” He smirks when your eyes widen. “I am a difficult man, hermosa. You don’t think fighting makes me hard?”

You smirk, sliding your hands down to his chest, feeling his heart beating beneath your palm. "It's a good thing I want you to fuck me every time you make me angry." You giggle when he growls and his hands slide down to squeeze your ass, "whenever you want, amor." You moan and lean in to kiss him, sliding your hands into his hair.

Pero still lets you control the kiss. His mouth opens in invitation and he groans when your tongue touches his. He turns you both and starts guiding you towards your cot. “We will have to get a bigger bed.” He grunts with a smile.

You giggle, reaching for the hem of his shirt, grateful he doesn't wear his armor. He pulls back for a moment to let you lift his shirt over his head, exposing his chest. "Farming has made you stronger." You observe the more prominent muscles on his body. "Wanted to provide for you and the babe." He explains and you sigh happily, leaning in to kiss the skin above his heart. "My husband." You murmur, leaning back and his hands reach for the ties that keep your dress together.

He slowly starts untie your laces. “You are so beautiful.” He murmurs. “Stole my breath that night.” He groans when your breasts fall out of the chemise when he pulls down your dress. “They are bigger.” His greedy hands cup them and weigh them in his palms for a moment.

You giggle at the hungry look on his face, "they are. They ache...you could help me soothe it with your tongue, my love." You hint, shrugging off your chemise so it falls to the floor and you are left naked in front of him.

Your belly is large, rounded heavily without the concealing layers of your dresses. “Hermosa.” He whispers, twitching in his breeches as he slides his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him. Leaning down, he presses his lips to your stomach. “Mi bebé.” He murmurs softly, looking up at you after he kisses your skin.

You run your fingers through his hair as he caresses your belly. "Our baby." you murmur, smiling at him. His eyes soften and you pull him closer to kiss his lips. His hands caress your waist and you reach down to start untying his breeches. "Need you, Pero. Touched myself so many times thinking of that night. The baby...makes me desperate for your touch."

“Just the baby?” He chuckles as he stands up to make it easier to shuck his pants. He’s already hard and aching, a constant state of being around you. “You are sure that it is just that and not being eager to take my cock again?” He teases. “You screamed my name the last time.”

"In frustration. You didn't make me cum fast enough." You retort, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his hard length after you lick your palm. He groans and you chuckle, starting to pump him. "I bet you want me to scream it again for you."

“Yes.” He pants out, rocking his hips towards your touch. “Stroked my cock every night thinking about how your cunt felt around me.” He grunts. “Hated leaving that morning.” He moans softly when you squeeze him. “Needed to work, show you that I could provide for you if I had a chance to win your heart.”

“I wish you would’ve stayed. You hurt me when you left.” You confess, “thought you just wanted my cunt and you had gotten what you wanted and left.” You sigh as you stroke him.

Pero frowns and he reaches down to cover your hand, making you stop. His eyes are dark and somber as he looks at you. “Never, hermosa.” He promises you. “I want you until I am taking my last breath. I wanted to give you more than just a gruff mercenary.”

You pull your hand away from his cock, dragging him down onto your cot, and you straddle him with your belly pressed between you. "You were enough." You promise, cupping his cheeks, and his hard cock is pressing against your pelvis. "You are enough."

“How do you want this, hermosa?” He asks softly, knowing what your belly is large enough that he would not want to risk being on top of you. He would not hurt the baby. “I want to make you feel good.” He licks his lips and kisses you. “There’s- have you ever had a man kiss your cunt?” He asks. “It is done. I have done it before. Women like it.”

You shake your head, "no. I - that sounds - I want it. I want you to do it." You plead softly, your hand coming up to squeeze your breast. "I can get on my knees." You say as you shift off the cot, kneeling on the end of it with your hands gripping the edge. You look back over your shoulder to where Pero is leaning against your pillow. "Please, my love." You beg, needing to feel him.

He chuckles as he leans forward, caressing your ass. “I have never done it from this position, but it should be the same, no?” He asks, letting his fingers slide down the crevice of your ass and over your puckered hole to finger the wet folds of your sex. “Relax, esposa, I will make you feel good.” He coos, confident he will make you squeal with his tongue. He leans forward and has no hesitation as he dives into your folds, his nose pressed against your other hole.

You gasp, leaning forward on your forearms to give him more access, and you moan when his tongue pushes into your cunt. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. His tongue is magic, curling as his hands squeeze your ass, “fuck.” You curse, tits swaying as you grind back onto him.

He hums as he licks into you, tasting your musky essence. You are tangy and sweet, delicious and he loves how wet you already are. Growling into your cunt as he devours you, feasts on you like he is a man starved. Until he pulls back. “Turn over, hermosa.” He orders. “Lay on your back so you can rest while I make you cum.”

You nod, shifting away from him so you can carefully lay down. Your bump blocking your view of him as he settles between your thighs. Your chest heaves as his tongue slides between your folds again, flicking your clit with each swipe, and you pant his name.

Pero groans into your cunt, finding you completely addictive. He could spend forever right here, making you whimper his name like that. Sliding a hand up your hip, he covers your baby bump possessively as he sucks your clit into his mouth.

You moan, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair as you slowly rock your hips up into his mouth. "Fuck." You curse, wishing you could see him below your bump.

He chuckles and hums as he slides his tongue around your clit, just missing it until you whine in protest. “How do you feel now, hermosa?” He rasps, his cock aching to sink into you, but he’s going to give you this before he does. Show you how he feels for you.

“Good. So good. Need you inside me.” You demand and he shakes his head against your folds, “not yet.” He says, taking your clit into his mouth to suck hard on it. You whine, chest heaving.. Your thighs squeeze his head and you moan his name.

You are close, he can taste the desperation in your body. The way your thighs tighten around him and he doesn’t let up. Sliding his hand higher, he cups your breast and flicks his thumb over the hard nipple as you come close to shattering around him.

You pant, getting closer and closer to the edge, “fuck.” You moan, covering his hand with yours. “I love you.” You pant and it transforms into a cry as you cum, your orgasm racing through your body.

Pero groans, lapping at your clit and drinking down the juices that are pouring out of you. Working you through it until your body goes lip and your thighs tense every time his tongue touches you. He kisses your thigh and then your stomach as he pushes to his hands and looks up at you with a wicked smirk. “Delicious.”

You giggle at the mischief on his face and you watch as he kneels so you reach down to grip his cock. “Need you inside me, my love.” You plead, slowly stroking his cock.

“I don’t want to crush you.” He pants, eyes rolling back as you touch his aching cock. “Turn on your side.” He grunts. “I will fuck you that way, so I am not on top of you.”

You nod, letting go of his cock so you can shift onto your side. Your hand on your belly as you watch him move. He looks deadly when he’s moving around the tavern but right now he’s soft and slow as he moves to lay down behind you.

He slides one arm under your chest, cupping one of your breasts while he takes his cock in his hand and shuffles his hips forward. “Put your leg on top of mine.” He grunts, twitching when you open up for him and he feels the wet slick of your folds against his cock. “Te amo,” he murmurs. “I love you.” He vows as he slowly starts to push inside your walls.

Your mouth falls open as he stretches you out, his cock filling you up in the way you’ve craved since he left your bed - even if you hated him for a while. You whimper and reach for his hand, gripping it as he starts to move inside you. “Love you too.” You promise, closing your eyes as you focus on him.

He starts slowly, not wanting to hurt you or the baby. He’s never fucked a pregnant woman before and he would be more uncertain except you are moaning your encouragement. Still, he doesn’t snap his hips like he would have, keeping the thrusts long and drawn out as he moves in and out of your body. Murmuring how perfect you are and how he has dreamed of this.

You moan, “feel so good, Pero.” You caress his forearm as he caresses your bump. You whimper as he rocks into you, slow and deep, and you turn your head to watch him as he thrusts into you. “I love you.” You murmur, kissing his jaw.

“I love you too.” He groans. “I prayed today. To St. Valentine. Praying that you would accept me. Let me be your husband.” He confesses, having spent so many years avoiding his faith, but he had wanted you too much to risk not praying to the saint of lovers.

You are surprised by that and your heart clenches at that confession. “He answered your prayers.” You smile, “and I’m so happy he did. I want to be your wife tomorrow and our child will be coming soon.”

“Our child.” He smiles, happy that you are carrying his child. “No one will doubt the child is mine.” He vows. “I will take care of you while you are recovering.” While he might not have had sex with a pregnant woman, he had been around them, and their babies when he was younger. He remembers that they needed loving care and it affected their health when they didn’t get it.

You love how he is promising your care and your heart flutters as you kiss his jaw. “I love you.” You promise him again, “you are going to be my husband. And a brilliant father.” You lift your leg a little higher.

He’s scared, probably more scared of failing than he was of the monsters in China. But for now, he slowly rocks into you. Touching you, kissing you. Eventually his fingers find your clit again as he thrusts. “Cum for me, esposa.” He groans in your ear as he rubs your clit.

“Fuck. You’re - it’s so good.” You moan, walls fluttering around his cock. He’s working you up, calloused fingers rubbing your clit, and you cry out moments later. Clamping down on his cock, you soak him and squeeze your eyes shut, “Pero. Oh fuck.” You gasp, thigh shaking in the air.

He groans, loving how you come apart for him. Kissing along your jaw while your cunt soaks his cock. He keeps working into you, so close himself that it only takes a few more thrusts before he is pushing deep. Flooding your walls with his seed. “Fuck, hermosa.” He hisses. “So perfect.”

**** 

“You bastard!” You curse Pero as you squeeze his hand. The pain makes you cry out as you try to push. Your wedding ring digs into his palm and your brow is covered in sweat.

He would chuckle but he hates seeing you in so much pain. “Sí, esposa.” He agrees, listening to the midwife huff as she hustles about the room. She had been annoyed that Pero insisted on staying with you while you fight to bring his child into the world. The tavern out front is empty, he had kicked everyone out when your first pains had been felt; although there is a crowd of people outside waiting for news. The entire village had apparently known you were pregnant and just kept their opinions to themselves. They liked you and they liked that Pero took care of you, your wedding solidifying their feelings. “I am a bastard for doing this to you, I will never touch you again, eh?”

You hiss as you bear down before you inhale deeply, trying to breathe through the pain as the midwife had instructed you. “Never. No matter how good you fuck me.” You pant out, squeezing his hand even harder as you scream, pushing again when the midwife is between your thighs and she grins, “there’s the head.”

“Our bebé, hermosa.” Pero twists his body, wanting to see and he swallows harshly when he sees the bloody crown of his child’s head between your legs. “Already beautiful.”

You pant, trying to catch your breath to prepare you for the next push. “Okay dearie. Let’s push again. On three. One…two…three.” She orders and you scream through gritted teeth, squeezing Pero’s hand to the point that he hisses in pain.

He knows you hurt, reaching for the rag again to wipe the sweat from your face when you finally relax again. “Almost there. You are doing good.” He grunts, although he has no idea if you actually are. He just wants to encourage you. “Get it over with, esposa. Hold your child.”

You growl at his demand, “fuck you, Tovar.” You hiss at him and he smirks, making you hiss in fury. The midwife watches on in shock at the way you speak to your husband but the insult works as the child slides free of your body. Your gasp of relief echoes in the room and moments later, your child’s cry fills the air. You sob, reaching for the babe.

Pero watches in wonder as the midwife brings the child up to your chest, still covered with blood and whatever else was involved with childbirth. He leans over the two of you, instantly in love. “It’s a girl?” He asks, not seeing a cock before the baby was wrapped up in softly blankets. “Yes.” You answer and the midwife wonders if Pero is upset, but the gruff mercenary just beams proudly. “Valentina.” He offers. “We should name her Valentina.”

You have tears running down your face as you look at the squawking baby. You stroke her cheek as she roots to find your nipple and you help her, in awe of her and totally in love. “Valentina.” You murmur, “after the day we finally confessed how we felt.” You look up at Pero and offer him a watery grin. “I love it. I love her. I love you.” You rush out, feeling so overwhelmed.

“I love you, esposa. Just like I love our baby girl.” He leans over and kisses your lips softly before pressing his lips to her now dry and wiped off head. “So tiny.” He worries, pulling back and watching in wonder. “Are you sure there is not another babe in her belly?” He demands to the midwife. “She was so large.”

You scoff and reach out to hit him, “you’re such a prick.” He chuckles and the midwife is surprised by your relationship but she can see how much you love each other. “You wouldn’t have me any other way, esposa.” He smirks and you roll your eyes, “no. I wouldn’t. Valentina and I are lucky to have you. Most of the time.” You tease and Pero huffs, leaning down to kiss you. “Pain in my ass.” He mutters against your lips and you smile, knowing that despite your bickering, you’ll be spending the rest of your life with him.