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amdiriel · 2 days ago

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lonely pt. 2

Azriel x fem!Archeron!reader

SUMMARY: After a vulnerable moment of comfort, Reader tries to navigate Azriel’s increasingly flirtatious behavior without assuming anything. Because she really shouldn’t. Right?

WARNINGS: FLUFF, slight suggestiveness, a bit of hurt but SO much comfort, not proofread we die like men

NOTE: thanks for so much love on part 1! I have some ideas for new Az fics, so lmk if you're interested in being on my Azriel taglist! xox diri

WORDS: ~4.2k

part 1 main masterlist

•••

It had been about a week and a half since my little breakdown in my room, my cycle coming and going just days after it. I attributed my moment of uncharacteristic hopelessness to hormones.

I hoped Azriel would too, since I had trouble fully looking him in the eye ever since out of embarrassment. After a night of deep rest post-letting-it-all-out, I woke the next morning to a spill of hindsight in my mind, grumbling at my ridiculousness into my pillow. Despite my cycle being a royal pain in my ass, it was a few days where I could hide safely in my room.

So the next few days, I was determined to be fine. I was great, living the dream, no worries here, wielding a grin and a dry joke as always.

The first day after my cycle ending, I wake up to blissful absence of pain in my abdomen, and treat myself to a long bath.

Afterwards, I take advantage of a brisk morning walk, the sunshine making the late winter weather less intolerably cold. I barely get two blocks from the River House before a shadow passes over my head.

I tilt my head back, squinting through the direct sunlight. Then the shadow descends at an alarmingly fast rate and touches down near-silently beside me. “Good morning,” Azriel murmurs.

I jump at his sudden appearance, the bubbling nervousness at his closeness making it more pronounced. “Shit—Azriel,” I gasp, calming myself with a breath. “What the hell?”

He chuckles lowly and nudges me slightly as he matches my resuming pace. “Sorry. Occupational hazard, I’m afraid,” he says, not sorry at all.

I huff and roll my eyes, even as my lips curl up as well. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You need to wear a bell.” His laugh curls around me.

“I’m not sure it would go with my leathers,” he pretends to muse. “A collar would really ruin the effect of my scariness. Not to mention the whole point of being Spymaster.”

I snort, shaking my head. He nudges me again, drawing my gaze back up to him. I find his eyes warmly on me.

“I’m glad to see you out and about,” he says. “I was worried about you.”

I let the sweet words warm me for a quick moment before I huff a small laugh. “It’s my cycle, not sickness. I’m good.”

He shrugs. “Still. I know it’s much worse for you and your sisters now that you’re all fae. You handling them alright?”

My expression softens. “You’re sweet. I’m fine. I didn’t have much pain as a human, so I think as far as fae cycles go, my pain now is relatively mild. I mostly just don’t want to do anything,” I reply with a shrug of my own.

Azriel eyes me for a moment. “Alright. But you’ll let me know if you need anything, right? I haven’t forgotten about our agreement, you know,” he says with a sly smirk.

It takes a second for it to dawn, but soon a blush blooms on my face as I remember that night. I huff a sigh, finding it within me to laugh a little at myself. “So, what, you want me to come to you any time I have a problem?” I ask dryly.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Yes,” he answers plainly.

I give him a look. “Are you now our resident therapist too?” I deadpan. “Your resume’s long enough, Shadowsinger, you can take a pause every once in a while.”

He laughs again, shaking his head at me. “I may be busy, but never for you. Never for family,” he replies, and with such sincerity in his eyes that my steps falter for a moment.

Fuck. What happened to cool and collected, Archeron?

But I swallow and arch a brow. “Sweet. But you’re barely here enough to be able to do so for the many members of our ever-growing household,” I say, thinking about our nephew Nyx.

He shrugs a shoulder, his wings unfurling then furling in a subtle motion that catches my eye. I’d always found them fascinating. “Then how about this—I’ll never be too busy for you,” he says, a note saucily that my widened eyes turn upon his smirking face.

I grasp for words for a moment, and I see his eyes delight at my moment of hesitation. I shut my mouth and switch tactics, laughing. “Why Az, you are positively Rhys-like today.”

His brows raise, expression lighting in challenge. “Oh am I? Enlighten me, sweetheart.”

I bite hard on the inside of my cheek at that damned pet name again. This male just made it so bloody difficult to be dignified at all. I swear, every moment in his presence is a fight for my life. “You’re all—” I gesticulate over his person, “Swaggering. It’s unnerving. Please, for my sanity, resume your duties as our resident brooder. You’re putting me off.”

His head tilts back with a hearty laugh that startles me into astonishment. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he drawls, suddenly feeling like he’s looming over me.

Stupid, tree-like male.

I don’t reply except for a disbelieving huff at his forward behavior. His smirk is self satisfied as he halts, taking a step back with a sketch of a bow.

“You’ll have to resume your walk without me, Ms. Archeron,” he says, and I wrinkle my nose at the use of my surname. His smiling eyes rove over it, dipping to my lips before locking with my own gaze again. “Think you can manage?”

I scoff and manage to flip him off as his enormous wings unfurl and beat his figure into the air. His rumbling chuckle disappears as his shape grows smaller in the sky.

—

The following days, he wasn’t as blatantly swaggering, as I had called him, but he was…

Forward. Disarmingly so.

I couldn’t seem to avoid his presence if I tried, if merely to kick some sense back into myself. First it was the library—when I had settled into the cozy window seat, my usual perch, an hour into my reading, he had strode in his silent yet confident way of his. I had stilled, as if hoping he’d simply not notice me. Fool. He notices everything. And he certainly had wasted no time sidling up to my perch and leaning over to observe what I was reading. His warmth and masculine scent was a pleasant yet oppressive blanket to my poor sensibilities. And I barely survived when he had hummed “Any good?” practically into my ear.

Or there was lunchtime—I’d wander into the kitchen to make something quick and simple for myself, and when I walked into the dining room he’d be sitting there already, looking up with a small, unassuming smile. When he bade simply, “Sit with me”, I had no choice but to obey and eat with him. In my suspicion, I confess that I switched the times I went to get lunch by random intervals, in which each and every time he either was already there or showed up soon after.

I couldn’t tell if it just happened that way, or if he was being overly clever in his intentional variation.

Now, three weeks post-meltdown incident, Azriel had been gone a few days on Cauldron-knows-what business, so I’d loosened up, no longer bracing myself like he could walk into the room at any second.

Which is apparently my folly, since as soon as I round the corner into the dining room one morning, I found him standing at the sideboard, back toward me, making a cup of tea.

I halted, nearly rearing back as my mouth started to form the word shit, but quickly clamping it down. But even the smallest of noise alerts someone as discerning as him.

He turns and calls my name with quiet warmth, and I banish the wince from my face. “Hey,” I say simply. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he says, abandoning his tea to draw near. My head tilts back as he stops in front of me. “How have you been?” he asks with a soft smile.

His quiet care is almost more flustering than his forwardness. “Well. Fine,” I answer. “And you? Your mission or whatever successful?”

He huffs amusedly. “My mission or whatever was just fine,” he replies. Then he returns to the sideboard. “Tea?”

“Oh, uh, sure. Just bla—”

“Just black. I know,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder at me. I blink in surprise, cheeks pink. He’s been paying close enough attention that he knows that?

Of course he has, dummy. He probably has dossiers on everyone in this city with information down to the way they take their tea, the pragmatic voice in my head deadpans. You’re no exception.

I blink again as he draws near with a second cup, passing it to me. I take it with a small thank you, sipping it gratefully.

Just when I start to squirm on my feet at the silence between us, he speaks. “About what we talked about that night a few weeks ago—” I still. “You’re alright in that regard? And don’t lie, I’ll be able to tell.”

I huff a sound between a sigh and laugh, looking down. “Well, I haven’t had a night as bad as that one since then, so that’s good right?” I say with wry self-deprecation. He doesn’t reply. “But really, I’m alright. Just winter blues, I suppose.”

“No, I don’t think it is.”

I roll my eyes in a small flash of annoyance. “Alright, not just winter blues. But they certainly don’t help. But I’m fine. Really. You did really help that night,” I admit softly.

I don’t really notice my teacup is empty until he gently takes it from my hand and sets it next to his already abandoned cup. “What helped most, sweetheart?” he asks gently.

My tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth—speaking my vulnerability aloud both impossible and foreign. Letting him in last time didn’t hurt. It helped, a small voice whispers in my head.

I take a breath. “Just—talking through it. Physical touch too, um…” I fight to stay steady. “It’s grounding.”

He hums, nodding. There’s a light touch to both my elbows, and my eyes shift down to find that he’d silently reached for me. I allow the touch, but don’t dare go further, suspended in the fear of the unknown.

“You don’t have to be afraid to ask for that,” he murmurs quietly. Suddenly I’m very aware of the air we’re sharing, how close he’s gotten to me. His hands slide slowly to my upper arms, my breath hitching as the warmth of his palms bleed through even my heavy sweater.

The panic sets in before I can think this interaction through, before I can rationalize that maybe, just maybe he wants to be close to me, wants to touch me. Instead my eyes find the clock and seize the subject change before me. “Don’t you have Valkyrie training in five minutes?”

Azriel stills and follows my gaze to the clock. His jaw works once before the fleeting tension is gone. “You’re right. I should go.” He squeezes my upper arms gently before letting his hands drop. “Stay warm today. Wind is supposed to get bad, and temperatures will drop rapidly once the sun sets.”

I nod, giving him a brief smile. “Of course, you too. Stay warm, I mean.”

He returns my smile before leaving the room.

A whoosh of air leaves my lungs as soon as I’m alone again. Idiot. Silly, foolish girl.

—

Azriel was at his wits end.

He’d been pulling far more stops than his usual personality allowed, hadn’t he? She was certainly clever enough to notice that he was acting much differently around her, right? Had he just not been forward enough?

And still, she did not allow him closer, as close as two people could be. He'd given her every sign he could think of without embarrassing himself.

Impossible girl. Can’t you understand that all I want is to comfort and coddle you?

He must not have taken care to erase any tension in his expression by the time he touched down in the ring atop the House of Wind, because Cassian’s brows raised upon seeing him.

Azriel just had to cast him a cool look for his brother to relent, though he caught the half-smirk on the General’s face as he turned toward the group of priestesses warming up and began training.

It was during sparring that Nesta finally deigns to sidle up beside him as he watches a match. “So. What the hell’s going on between you and my sister?”

He stills for just a moment before erasing the reaction. He debates lying to his friend, but she’ll call him on it. He doesn't think she’ll warn him off her sister either, so finally he admits evenly, “Much less than I would like.”

The eldest Archeron huffs a laugh. “I appreciate you sparing me a lie. Honestly, Az? My sister is just supremely oblivious, clever as she is. If nothing else has worked at this point, you just need to lay one on her.”

He chokes and turns his head toward her. “I would never. Not without her express permission—”

She snorts, shaking her head. “Gods, males can be so boring. At the very least you need to sit her down and make sure she doesn’t leave until she understands exactly what your intentions are. Then you can lay one on her, if she’s amenable to it.”

Azriel takes a deep breath, letting the words sink into his turbulent mind. “I don’t want to scare her,” he admits after a pause.

“You won’t,” she replies instantly. “She’s not afraid of you, she never could be. In truth, my sister is scared of very little. But based on the fact that she’s never had a romantic attachment before, what seems like indifference is likely just borne out of nervousness.”

“I don’t want to make her nervous either.”

“It’s not you that does. It’s just—being vulnerable. Emotionally intimate with someone,” Nesta says. “Years of fighting with her have taught me that she’ll hide anything behind biting wit or a laugh and joke. I think that’s what makes it all the more difficult to understand.”

He doesn’t reply.

“But speaking not as her sister, she definitely is attracted to you,” Nesta continues. “Speaking as her sister?” He looks at her cool features. “Don’t fuck it up.” Then she stalks away to Gwyn and Emerie.

Azriel forces down a growl. Tonight. He'd do it tonight or hell, he'd go crazy from this dance around the line. He'd spent too many centuries wanting this, wanting companionship for him to squander an opportunity with, at last, a female that he connected so deeply with. A female that seemed to need his touch as badly as he needed hers.

So...yes. He'd had quite enough of waiting.

—

True to Azriel's word, it did end up being very cold today.

I forgo any ideas of taking a walk, but I did end up camping out in the warmth of Feyre's study, taking turns with her to organize some of her paperwork or play with Nyx on the floor. My nephew (and his poor parents) had had some rough nights due to the last dregs of his teething pain, but it was good to see him smiling and playing despite it all. Rhysand stopped in frequently, unable to stay from his mate and son for extended periods of time, and after the fourth time Feyre shooed him out with their laughing, squirming son in his arms.

Our bi-weekly dinner fell that evening. Usually I enjoyed it.

Usually.

The dinner was fine. But I was so chilled that I took the opportunity of warmth from any hot dish passed around to me. I shiver for the upteenth time as Azriel passes me the potatoes.

"Cold?" he murmurs close beside me, and I shiver again. Not from the cold, damn him.

"Freezing," I retort instead, scooping potatoes on my plate. "Doesn't Rhys have this place warded to hell? Why is it so drafty?"

Azriel chuckles lowly. "How do you know that it isn't just you?" he teases.

I shoot him a look. "No, no, Mr. 'Stay Warm Today', I'm quite certain it isn't."

He laughs again, and it warms me only temporarily. I finish before everyone else, per usual. Not only do I tend to eat fast, but I'm also not caught up in constant conversation. Bored, my eyes travel the room, around my friends. My family. Even in my relaxed, two-glasses-of-wine haze, my mind doesn't fail to notice how paired up they all seem to have gotten.

Feyre and Rhys feed a fussy Nyx in his highchair, Rhys's eyes roaming over his mate and child with unrepressed love. Cassian's arm was slung around Nesta's shoulder, my usually stoic sister slumped comfortably into his side. Varian looked down at Amren next to him like she was the most fascinating creature alive, which...wasn't entirely a subjective statement, considering her interesting history.

Even Elain was speaking in shy tones with Lucien, who watched her with amused adoration. I had been so proud of my younger sister for finally realizing that she could just as well choose him as not choose him. They were taking it slow, she'd been telling me recently, but she begrudgingly had found that her mate was, indeed, her perfect match.

But as with all my friends and family, my happiness for them comes at a cost. To myself.

I turn and opened my mouth to chase away the tightness in my chest, but found that the Spymaster next to me was turned away, engaging Mor in conversation on his other side.

I quickly clamp my mouth shut and instead go for my wine.

Gods, hadn't Feyre mentioned there was some sort of will-they won't-they situation between the two of them? Something that had been brewing for the five centuries they'd known each other? It was none of my business, of course, and I hardly paid attention, but even I noticed that it had been pretty consistently they-won't in the past few years of living here.

Right?

Azriel laughs at something she says, and suddenly I feel sick.

Cauldron. Was I going to be the only one left?

And even worse—had I also been imagining his forwardness with me as of late?

There's a rushing in my ears and I tune out completely, going blissfully blank.

I hardly recall cleanup. Or the migration to the living room. My body seems to draw itself to the fireplace, a hand lifting to drag a blanket off the back of an armchair as I settle on the floor before the flames.

And as I wrap the blanket around myself, shivering minutely, I can't bring myself to look at what I know I'll find behind me—each couple in the house cuddling for warmth.

—

Azriel's heart aches at the sight of her vibrating form in front of the fire.

He'd taken his place behind the armchair she usually sat in, hoping to finally coax her into having a conversation in the privacy of the hall. Or if things went well, his bedroom.

But instead he watched her walk as if unawake from the dining room to the fireplace in the living room. Unblinking. Not looking at anyone else.

He doesn't know what to do.

He also doesn't realize that a shadow had flitted to her until it came slinking back to his shoulder, whispering, Upset. Crying.

His heart broke. Oh, sweetheart.

He felt suspended in air, in time for a moment. Everyone was lounging, cuddling in their respective pairs, speaking quietly with one another. Distracted. So he took a gamble.

And silently pushed forward.

—

I felt him before I heard or saw him.

I lock up as I feel his warm body settle on the rug, not quite directly behind me, but not quite beside me either.

His touch was warm, intentional.

Mother, I needed intentional touch so badly.

I hadn't realize how upset I had gotten until the first cold tear spills down my cheek. I wipe hastily at it.

"Hey," he coos softly in my ear, his arm coming firmly around me and drawing me into him. I sniff, shooting a panicked glance over my shoulder since everyone was in the room right now. I barely register that his wings block any sight of the two of us from the rest of the room before his gentle hand guides my chin back to look up at him. "No one can see, sweet girl," he murmurs. "You're alright."

The lump tightens painfully in my throat as a second, third tear spill down my face. "Sorry," I mouth, unable to get any sound out.

"Stop," he whispers gently. "You're alright. You're safe." His hand slides to the back of my head and I let myself be guided to the shelter of his embrace, once again in his lap as I silently shake. "Are you feeling that way again?"

I nod silently.

He sighs. "Sweetheart. Why don't you just let me in?"

I untuck my wet face from his shoulder to glance confusedly up at him. "I...I am," I breathe. "You're—you're hugging me."

He shakes his head, cradling my face with both hands. "I mean: why don't you let me into that head of yours? That world? Most importantly, why can't you just let me into your heart?"

Said heart seems to stutter and stop beating.

There's a long moment where my lips don't form words, don't do anything except lay parted, slack. "What do you mean?" I finally blurt, a note of tightness in my voice.

His jaw works and he sighs heavily through his nose. "Sweetheart, is it so impossible to understand that this whole time you've found yourself lonely at the sight of everyone paired off that maybe I want to be that person for you? Your person?"

"Wh—you?" I sputter on a whisper as everything dawns, hell, practically crashes down upon me. The denial comes a split second after. "No."

"Yes."

My expression shutters in emotion. "There's no way—"

"There is," he murmurs with an adoring smile on his handsome face, thumbs brushing at my tears. "And you can't change that, ever. But what you can do is let me in."

I take a shuddery breath, in and out. "Let you in?"

He nods.

"Be my person?" I croak. "And I be yours?"

The words seem to have an effect on him, his chest puffing for a moment before deflating again. His hands cradle my face like I'm precious. I've never felt more so than in his lap. "Yes, sweet girl. Mine. And I, yours."

A release another uneven breath, feeling my body go warm all over. "I—I never thought that I...that you could want this with me. Could want me," I rasp.

He smiles. "But I do. I have for a long time."

I let out a little wet laugh. "Gods, I—" I shake my head. "I don't feel like asking questions right now. I've wanted you too, for so long. I just didn't want to delude myself, to make a fool of myself in front of you when you're so..."

He raises a brow but his eyes remain warm. "So?"

"So perfect, damn you," I finish, no real malice behind my words. When he laughs this time, I feel it seep directly through my chest and into my soul.

"You're the perfect one, sweetheart," he murmurs, and presses a kiss to my hairline like he had those weeks ago. "In more ways than one." He draws back to look at me, and I return his gaze with nothing but openness, with love. Then he breathes, "May I kiss you?"

Heat blooms across my cheeks, but I give him a little nod. "You may."

He dips his chin ever so slowly, and when his soft, full lips finally meet mine, my eyes slip shut. Tentative, and so gentle with me, he dares his tongue over my bottom lip. Though I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing, I let him through.

The first swipe of his tongue, this hungrier kiss sets my soul ablaze, his hands travel to wrap around my waist, drawing my chest against his.

We kiss quietly yet needy for Cauldron knows how long. All I know is that I’m breathless, fuzzy, and light by the time I draw away softly. He chases my lips a moment more before settling his forehead against mine.

Breathing the same air.

A giddy smile tugs at my features, and I giggle with blushing embarrassment. “They definitely know what’s going on,” I whisper, fighting the urge to peek. He chuckles lowly and draws me closer, depositing a kiss on my shoulder, my jaw, then my lips.

“I sent them out,” he replies. My brows raise. “I told Rhys mind-to-mind that if he didn’t get everyone out, I’d quit.”

A laugh bubbles up within me. “Liar. He just decided to have mercy on us. On me, at least.”

Azriel grins, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Boyish. Free.

“Kiss me again,” I whisper. And he does.

That night, he takes me to his room, scooping me under the covers and into his body. I’m too wired, too happy to fall asleep right away. It’s when I watch him slip into dreamland, the most relaxed I’ve seen him, that there’s a tug within my chest.

A soft glow flickers to life deep in my soul. I smile and let the tears fall as I feel what I think is the bond.

I settle in. I’ll tell him tomorrow.

•••

NOTE: i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i did writing it! i have an idea for a short series taking place post-ACOSF, where Reader is part of a group in Montesere that’s sort of adjacent to the Valkyries, and she comes to visit the Library, so I’ll start drafting if anyone is interested k love you bye! -diri

TAG LIST: @lilah-asteria @salvatoresister1 @a-courtof-azriel @thestartitaness @casiiopea2 @kk191327 @missxmarvelous @saltedcoffeescotch

#azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #my writing #azriel #rhysand #cassian acotar #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #morrigan #amren acotar #lucien vanserra

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myownwholewildworld · 1 day ago

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OKAY SO… where do i even begin with this?! i think i might have gone into arousal shock (is that a thing? must be) after reading this MASTERPIECE, odi. like the way you set the pace, the back and forth, how reader was adamant at first that she just wouldn’t be “another one”… UGGGHHHH it hit all the right spots for me!! also, your writing is so immersive, i was right there in the party and then in the bar with them. you write so beautifully i can only aspire to be like you one day when i grow up 😭 the dynamic between them was so natural, i can only say THAT MUST BE LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. can’t convince me otherwise!

so, without any further ado, let me dive in because I HAVE THOTS i need to let out before i pass out!

Javier danced his way onto the makeshift stage in front of your bestie, spinning his hat off and tossing it with a flourish into the crowd. Almost causing a fight between a few of the women to break out.

YUP, that’d be me. i’d be fighting wars on a muddy pitch just to grab his hat!!!

Javier stood unabashed and grinning in a leopard-print thong that left very little to the imagination.

HOWLING TO THE FUCKING MOON YOU DID THATTTTT omfg someone sedate me RIGHT ABOUT NOW I’M BEGGING YOU

the way i pictured this instantly, i ain’t joking i think at this point i started running a fever???

Your pulse fluttered wildly as he worked the crowd, making his way closer, dancing toward you.

i don’t know how reader kept it together, i would of died right there and then. like he’s DIABOLICAL FOR DANCING HIS WAY TO HERRR ASDSFKDÑLKJ

“Oh, I don’t think you’re good. Not yet, anyway.” He leaned closer, his voice just for you now. “But I’m more than happy to change that.”

HAHHHHAHHHHAHALJLADJA BYE. the fact that she stood her ground?? she’s the strongest of us all. kudos to her honestly.

“I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

gnawing at the walls of my fucking coffin right now. i wouldn’t have asked, i would have begged.

the whole text exchange had me on a chokehold because that man was on a mission he was not about to lose. he knows what he wants and he gets itttttt ugh to be chased by a man like that, DREAM. and when he sends her his pic saying that he’s feeling lonely? DAMN RIGHT HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING. also loved when they are at the bar and Javi opens up about being a DEA agent letting her see some of his real self? like, yeah. he’s down bad, i knew at this point this couple was meant to be. i’ll die on this hill.

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” you replied. His smile was slow, almost lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. I just might take you up on that.”

HAHHAHJAHAGTYWIWM,. i was about to fight if he didn’t go into the room, extremely relieved he did.

“Do me a favor,” he whispered. “Touch yourself. Just a little.”

ODI, YOU- YOU BEAUTIFUL SOUL 😭 from this point on i just completely lost my shit and i was a trembling bundle of nerves throughout. if you looked up the definition of “feral” in a dictionary, my fucking face would be besides it. i shouldn’t have read this in a public space but with every word it just got better and better, hotter and hotter, i just couldn’t stop. i was heavingggggggg. anyways…

Your fingers faltered for a moment, your breath catching as your focus shifted entirely to him. He stood before you, stripped of all pretense, his movements deliberate and sure. When he pushed his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, your gaze locked onto him, and your thoughts scattered.

your thoughts scattered??? beautifully put considering how wild this made me feel… i was not having demure thots at this point.

Slowly, deliberately, you adjusted, letting your slick pussy tease the length of him. The anticipation was maddening, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, his restraint barely holding. Then, with a deep breath, you angled yourself just right and began to lower yourself onto his length.

put me in horny jail, i beg you. i was suffering. i am suffering while rereading this.

it would be wrong of me to just quote the whole pussy eating scene so just know i was so not normal about it. grab a shovel, might as well go dig my grave now.

and then the end, when they both come undone and he says “give me one more”??? IS THAT SENTENCE EVEN LEGAL??? gonna have to check the law because i feel like it shouldn’t be. and the promise of a second round????? 🥵

i am so glad i finally got to read this because I WAS SO MISSING OUT. the whole fic was a fucking tease and a masterpiece, i truly cannot describe it any other way. PLEASE I BEG YOU, WILL YOU WRITE A SECOND PART TO THIS??? i hope so 😭

Strangers

Stripper!Javier Pena x f!reader // almost 9k

Time stands still and it's only us, what we feel started way before we ever touched... must be from a different life been here before and it just feels right

summary: you meet a sexy stripper at your bestie's bachelorette party and he tries his absolute hardest to get your number

warnings: mdni, 18+, javi is a stripper, he wears a man thong and gets pretty close to stripping it all off in public, there's cock and balls, unprotected p in v, f!oral receiving, lap dances for days, reader has breasts, a dress, and hair that can fall around her face and is internally conflicted about this man and his leopard thong, javi has a pov in this too

notes: i really don't remember what sparked this but here we are... it's been like a month or more of me working on this. I thought I was done and then I heard a single song and it pushed me to write even more. This was supposed to be just a smutty fic and then got some depth and I was like wtf. Anyway on to the thank yous, thank you to the 5000 people I have screamed to about this, and a massive thank you to @thundermartini for listening to me go on and on about this guy for a long time and then reading it for me love you baby! A special mention to @gothcsz for the thong idea, @evolnoomym, @milla-frenchy and @sawymredfox for being so supportive of this idea to @joelslegalwhre for reading and @syd-djarin for the moodboard

masterlist

The music thumped so loudly it seemed to shake the floor, the kind of bass-heavy track that rumbled through your chest. Your best friend’s bachelorette party was in full swing, and the rented penthouse buzzed with laughter, shrieks, and a significant amount of tequila-fueled chaos. The party planners had spared no expense, from the towering stacks of champagne glasses to the flashy male entertainment just about to take the stage.

And then, he walked in.

You couldn’t ignore the way the room seemed to shift when he entered. The man—Javier, as the MC introduced him—had an undeniable presence. Dressed in a tight police officer uniform complete with aviators, a fake badge, hat, and handcuffs, he adjusted his badge with a grin that screamed trouble. His dark eyes surveyed the room with the kind of confidence that could only come from knowing he was the main event.

Every woman in the room, including you, took notice.

While your friends ogled and whispered not-so-subtle comments, you tried—and failed—to keep your eyes elsewhere. He was gorgeous, sure, but this wasn’t your scene. Loud parties weren’t really your thing.

The first performance was for the bride-to-be, of course. When the lights dimmed and the music shifted to something playfully seductive, the room erupted into cheers and Javier made his way to the bachelorette.

“Ladies,” he announced, his voice smooth and teasing as he pulled a pair of fake handcuffs from his belt. “I hear there's a bride-to-be here who’s guilty of breaking hearts. I’m afraid I’ll have to take her in.”

Your best friend shrieked with laughter as he arrested her, securing one cuff around her wrist and helping her onto a nearby chair. The room buzzed with excitement as he began to dance, every move deliberate and designed to tease.

You watched the scene unfold, biting your lip to stifle your laughter. He was undeniably good at what he did. But you couldn’t focus on the theatrics as much as everyone else seemed to. Your attention had zeroed in on him—his broad shoulders, the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the effortless way he commanded every inch of the massive penthouse, the man was sex on legs. As he began to set up for the big finale, you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

His aviators followed, revealing deep, smoldering eyes that locked with yours for a moment too long. He’s just playing to the crowd, he has to look at all the women right?

The bassline shifted to a slower, dirtier rhythm, and he rolled his shoulders back, his body falling into perfect sync with the beat.

Then came the shirt.

He gripped the edges, peeling it off slowly, revealing inch by inch of sun-kissed skin stretched over a perfectly sculpted chest and arms. When he finally tossed the shirt aside, the room erupted in cheers and whistles.

And yet, all you could do was stare and clench your thighs together. Why was this affecting you so much? It’s just a party. It’s just a guy. Get a grip. But no amount of inner scolding could make you look away. Something about this man pulled you in.

His chest glistened under the soft glow of the light, each bead of sweat tracing a slow, tantalizing path over the chiseled contours of his body. Your breath hitched, captivated by the sheer allure of him—the way every ridge of muscle stood out, accentuated as his hand drifted slowly down his torso. He moved with deliberate ease, fully aware of the spell he was weaving, and the teasing smirk playing at the corner of his lips made it clear that he was savoring every second of all the attention he was receiving.

But it was when his fingers moved to rip off his belt that the real show began.

The collective energy in the room surged as Javier teasingly ran his hands down his sides, and in one swift, practiced motion, he reached for his waistband and yanked.

The rip-away pants came apart with a sharp, satisfying sound, sending the crowd into a frenzy. The noise, a mix of gasps, shrieks, and raucous laughter, echoed through the penthouse. But none of that registered as you stared at what had been revealed.

Javier stood unabashed and grinning in a leopard-print thong that left very little to the imagination. Every inch of his sculpted body was on display—toned legs, powerful thighs, and that tiny scrap of fabric barely holding itself together. The cut of the thong framed his hips perfectly, the deep lines of his V cutting down, drawing your eyes exactly where he wanted them to go. The thin fabric of the thong clung tightly to him, leaving the unmistakable outline of his cock on display, straining the limits of the material. Javier seemed completely unbothered by how much was on show.

Your face burned as your gaze dipped lower, catching a glimpse of something even more scandalous. The tiny scrap of leopard print couldn’t quite contain him—on the sides, the curve of his balls was slipping free. You swallowed hard, your pulse fluttering as he shifted his weight, the motion only emphasizing how precariously the thong was holding itself together.

The room exploded excitedly, women fanning themselves, throwing bills, and shouting over one another. But you could barely breathe.

And then, just when you thought the spectacle couldn’t get any more outrageous, Javier turned around with a deliberate, teasing spin, giving the room an uninterrupted view of his backside.

The thong was practically nonexistent, the thin fabric disappearing completely between the firm, sculpted curves of his ass. His glistening, muscular cheeks were on full display, round and perfectly defined, drawing another deafening eruption of cheers and whistles from the crowd.

Javier struck a pose, bracing his hands on his hips as he arched his back slightly, flexing for effect. He glanced over his shoulder with a devilish grin, clearly relishing in the chaos he was causing. The lights caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, highlighting every curve and line of muscle, leaving no question as to just how perfect he was from every single angle.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. Your breath hitched and your pulse pounded so loudly in your ears it almost drowned out the music. Heat flushed through your body as your gaze lingered shamelessly on his backside, every inch of him a deliberate invitation.

After what felt like a torturous eternity, Javier turned back toward the crowd, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he surveyed everyone's reactions.

He strutted forward, running his hands up his torso and tossing a playful wink to the bride-to-be, who was practically falling out of her chair from laughter and shock. But his gaze kept flicking to you.

Your cheeks burned as he moved closer, spinning on his heel to give the audience another view. His movements were fluid and sensual, every roll of his hips and flex of his body perfectly in time with the music. When he leaned down to grab the bride’s hands to feel up his torso, his back arched in a way that emphasized the curve of his ass, and you bit your lip without thinking.

This man was a problem.

When he finally ended the dance with a flourish—dropping to his knees in front of the bride-to-be before flawlessly almost jumping back up to a standing position—the applause was deafening.

Javier laughed, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. He took a playful bow, blowing a kiss to the bride-to-be before gathering his discarded pants and shirt. His bare torso glistened under the soft glow of the party lights, and the lingering smirk on his lips suggested he knew he had the entire room wrapped around his finger.

The girls were still cheering and clapping, their voices a mix of exhilaration and tipsy enthusiasm. But while the others were caught up in the wild energy of the moment, you felt a strange tightness in your chest, like the room had closed in around you.

You weren’t used to reacting this way to someone, and it unnerved you. The heat creeping up your neck was impossible to ignore, and no amount of pretending to be distracted by your drink could hide the fact that your eyes kept darting back to him.

And he noticed—like a magnet—his eyes locked onto yours.

Your stomach flipped.

For a split second, everything else faded; the noise, the laughter, even your own internal protests to look away. It was just him, standing there, looking at you with that maddening confidence.

Then he moved.

Javier began to dance again, hips rolling in slow, hypnotic circles to the bass-heavy beat. The fabric of the thong strained with every motion, but he didn’t shy away. If anything, he seemed to lean into it—one hand trailing down his torso to brush along the waistband, teasing as if he might remove it completely.

Your pulse fluttered wildly as he worked the crowd, making his way closer, dancing toward you.

Your breath caught as you tried to focus on literally anything else—your drink, the flickering candles on the table, the way your best friend was still howling with laughter. But there was no escaping the fact that Javier was now standing right in front of you, every inch of him radiating heat and presence.

“Having fun?” he asked.

You blinked up at him, your mouth suddenly dry. “Uh… yeah. It’s been… something.” Your voice wavered, betraying how flustered you felt. Something? Really? That was the best you could come up with? You scrambled for words, your brain short-circuiting. “I mean—great. It’s been great.”

Smooth.

His smirk widened. “Just great?” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—something dark and woodsy—mingling with the musky sheen of sweat on his skin. “Because you’ve been staring like you’re enjoying yourself a little more than tha?t.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Relax,” he teased, his grin softening into something warmer, more inviting. “I’m just messing with you. Now come on, sweetheart,” he encouraged. “Let me make your night.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you replied, though your cheeks burned with the effort of maintaining composure. You crossed your arms to emphasize your refusal, but Javier didn’t look the least bit discouraged.

“Oh, I don’t think you’re good. Not yet, anyway.” He leaned closer, his voice just for you now. “But I’m more than happy to change that.”

Despite your best efforts, the laughter bubbling up from your chest betrayed you. He grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction. But when you refused—again—he didn’t press. Instead, he winked, gave an exaggerated shrug, and moved on to another guest, leaving you strangely disappointed.

————

Later, after the performances ended and the room was quieter, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the back corner of the room scrolling idly on your phone, trying to drown out your lingering thoughts about him. A few drinks had loosened your resolve. You noticed a stack of glossy business cards on the table where he had tossed his hat earlier. Curiosity got the better of you, and you picked one up.

The card was sleek, black with gold lettering. At the top, in bold, elegant lettering, it read:

Elite Heat’s Javier Peña

To the left, there was a neatly organized list; a phone number, a Facebook link, which you immediately ignored, and a website address. But it was the bottom that made your breath hitch.

On top of a gold banner, the words Elite Heat: “The Best Sex Therapy” were printed in bold, confident lettering.

To the right was a photo of Javier himself.

It wasn’t a professional headshot - far from it. It was one of those casual yet devastatingly attractive pictures that looked effortless but likely required perfect lighting and timing. He wore a grey long-sleeve shirt that framed his broad chest perfectly, the top buttons undone just enough to tease without giving away too much. His hand, however, made it impossible not to stare—casually slipping beneath the fabric, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of his defined abs. The way the light hit his skin added a subtle sheen, making the whole image feel like a deliberate invitation.

For a moment, you just stared at the card. The combination of professional polish and brazen confidence made your stomach twist in a way that annoyed you.

“The best sex therapy, huh?” you muttered to yourself, raising an eyebrow at the audacity.

Curiosity got the better of you. You grabbed your phone and typed “Javier Peña” into Instagram. After scrolling through a few accounts that clearly weren’t him, you found the right one.

The profile itself was… an experience.

Picture after picture of Javier dominated the feed—some in his infamous uniform, others in casual attire, and far too many shirtless to be accidental. Every post was a masterclass in confident allure, and his captions were just as bold.

The comments were what really got to you, though. Endless lines of hearts, fire emojis, and thirsty declarations filled each post.

“Find something you like?”

His voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your phone. You looked up to see Javier standing in front of you, his shirt slung casually over his shoulder and he was wearing his uniform pants again. How long had he been there?

“I was just…” You trailed off, trying to think of a plausible excuse for stalking him online. His smirk told you he wasn’t buying it.

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in closer than necessary. “You can follow me. Might even follow you back.”

“I’m not interested,” you replied, though the conviction in your voice wavered as he placed a hand on the back of your chair, caging you in.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, one dance. If you hate it, I’ll leave you alone. But if you like it… well, you can give me your number when it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, your resolve crumbling faster than you wanted to admit. After all, what was the harm in one dance?

Javier’s confidence was infuriatingly contagious, and your curiosity was louder than the protests in your head. You nodded if only to prove to yourself that he wouldn’t get under your skin. A small, victorious smile curved his lips as he straightened, offering his hand. “Good choice.”

He didn’t give you much time to second-guess as he guided you to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the penthouse. Some of your friends hooted and hollered, clearly thrilled to see you in the spotlight. You, however, were hyper-aware of every step as Javier led you to a chair he had conveniently placed in the center of the room.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice smooth but firm. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief as he waited for you to comply. Against your better judgment, you did.

The music shifted to something slower and sultrier. Javier grabbed his shirt from his shoulder, tossing it onto the floor. The movement was casual, but there was nothing casual about the way his toned chest and large arms drew every pair of eyes in the room. Including yours.

He stalked closer, and suddenly it felt like the room had disappeared. Just you, the chair, and the dangerously attractive man who seemed to thrive on the tension hanging in the air.

“Relax,” he murmured as he noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of the chair. “I don’t bite.” He winked. “Not unless you ask nicely.”

Before you could reply, he began to move.

It wasn’t the kind of dance you expected. Yes, it was provocative—every roll of his hips and glide of his body was designed to tease—but there was something more deliberate about it. He kept his gaze locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion on your face. His hands didn’t touch you—not yet. Instead, they skimmed close enough to make you ache for the contact, only for him to pull away at the last moment.

He straddled the chair, his thighs framing yours as he dipped low, his chest hovering just inches from your face. His scent filled your senses, and your pulse quickened as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re even more beautiful up close,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched, and you hated how easily he could see the effect he had on you.

Javier straightened, his hands gripping the chair on either side of you as he moved his hips in a way that felt borderline illegal. He was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him, but he still didn’t touch. The lack of contact was maddening, and the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what he was doing.

The song ended too quickly, and he stepped back, leaving you feeling both relieved and oddly bereft. Your friends erupted into cheers and applause, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were fixed on Javier as he extended a hand, helping you out of the chair.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked.

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he’d gotten to you. “It was… okay.”

He laughed—a deep, rich sound that sent another shiver through you. “Just okay, huh? I’ll have to work on that.”

Before you could respond, he winked and disappeared back into the crowd.

——

An hour later, the party was winding down. The penthouse was quieter, and most of your friends had migrated to the couches or left altogether. You were nursing your last drink of the night when Javier appeared again, a shot glass in each hand.

“For you,” he said, offering one with an easy smile.

You eyed it suspiciously. “You didn’t put anything in this, did you?”

He looked genuinely offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “I’m hurt you’d even ask.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, leaning in closer. “I did put something in it.”

You froze, and he smirked, finishing his sentence with a devilish twinkle in his eye. “It’s called tequila.”

Your laugh surprised even you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, clinking his glass against yours. “Now drink up.”

Against your better judgment, you downed the shot, the burn of the tequila grounding you for a moment.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now, how about that number?”

Javier’s smile didn’t waver as he set his empty shot glass on the table. “Still hesitant, huh?” he asked, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

You shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. “I don’t make it a habit to give my number to strangers, especially ones who…” You gestured vaguely to his naked chest and the police hat perched crookedly on his head. “...do what you do.”

“Fair enough,” he said, the teasing edge in his voice softening. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it out to you. “At least let me follow you on Instagram..”

You stared at the phone, then at him. The sincerity in his tone threw you off balance, and the way his dark eyes searched yours made it hard to hold onto your skepticism. Against your better judgment—again—you took the phone and followed your account.

“Here,” you said, handing it back after following him.

Javier glanced at the screen, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he was gone, disappearing into the night with the same confidence that had drawn every eye in the room earlier.

Javi

Javier leaned against the balcony railing outside the penthouse lighting a cigarette, the cool night air doing little to temper the heat still coursing through him. The party was still going inside, but his thoughts had drifted elsewhere—to you. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at himself. He’d performed for hundreds of women, charmed his way through countless parties, but tonight felt… different.

You’d thrown him off balance in a way he wasn’t used to.

Sure, you’d laughed at his jokes and taken the shot he offered, but there was something in your eyes—an intoxicating mix of curiosity and resistance—that had him hooked. He wasn’t sure what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you tried to keep your guard up even as he chipped away at it. Maybe it was the way you watched him when you thought he wasn’t looking, like you couldn’t quite help yourself.

Or maybe it was the way he couldn’t stop replaying that moment on the dance floor in his head. The way your breath hitched when he leaned in. The way your lips parted, as though you were holding back words—or something else entirely.

The music from the party shifted the song echoing in the distance. Javier’s mind wandered as the melody pulled him into his own thoughts. It wasn’t just lust that gnawed at him—though, hell, that was definitely part of it. No, this was something deeper, something that felt unsettlingly like longing.

He ran a hand through his hair, the grin he’d worn all night slipping away. He’d never been one for complications, especially when it came to women. His job was to entertain, to tease, to flirt—but he’d never felt this kind of pull before. It was like a spark had ignited when he locked eyes with you, and now it wouldn’t go out.

For the first time in a long while, Javier wasn’t sure if he was in control.

The lyrics to the song playing in the penthouse hit him square in the chest.

Must be from a different life, been here before, and it just feels right. No, this ain't the first time for you and I, we ain't strangers.

The words struck a chord, leaving him standing there, staring out at the city lights, wondering how a single dance, a single moment, could unravel him so completely.

It's like it's driving me closer to you, every step back pulls me right back to you…

Maybe you wouldn’t give him your number. Maybe this would end here, tonight, like all the other nights before. But as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and opened Instagram, his thumb hovering over your profile, he couldn’t help but think—this didn’t feel like an ending.

It felt like the beginning of something he wasn’t ready to let go of.

———

Back in your hotel room, you flopped onto the plush bed with a groan. The events of the evening replayed in your mind, Javier’s smirk and the heat of his gaze lingering longer than you cared to admit.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself, reaching for your phone. A quick check of Instagram confirmed what you suspected—he’d already followed and sent you a message.

Javier: See? Now we’re not strangers anymore.

You rolled your eyes, though a small smile tugged at your lips. His confidence was irritatingly endearing.

You: I don’t think Instagram follows count as a formal introduction.

His reply was almost instant.

Javier: What would count? Because I’m pretty sure that dance was more personal than most first dates.

You bit your lip, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t about to admit that.

You: Is this your usual routine? Flirt with everyone at the party, then slide into DMs?

Javier: Nope. Just you.

You stared at the screen, your stomach doing an annoying little flip at his words.

You: Why me?

The typing indicator blinked for a moment before his reply came through.

Javier: Because you didn’t throw yourself at me like everyone else. And because you’re cute when you’re pretending not to be interested.

Your cheeks burned as you read the message, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You: I’m not pretending.

Javier: So you are interested?

You: I didn’t say that.

Javier: But you didn’t deny it, either.

You sighed, realizing this conversation wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

You: Don’t you have better things to do than bother me?

Javier: Nope. Not tonight.

Before you could come up with a snarky reply, another message popped up.

Javier: You could come over, you know. Save us both the trouble of texting all night.

Your heart raced at the suggestion, and you hesitated, typing and deleting a dozen responses before settling on one.

You: Not happening.

Javier: Why not?

You: Because it’s late, and I’m not that kind of girl.

Javier: What kind of girl is that?

You: The kind that sneaks into a stranger’s room after one tequila shot and a few texts.

Javier: I’m not exactly a stranger anymore.

You stared at his message, your lips twitching at the boldness. Before you could type out another response, your phone buzzed with a notification. It was a photo. From Javier.

You hesitated, your thumb hovering over the image preview before finally opening it. The picture was simple yet devastatingly effective: Javier, shirtless, sprawled on a hotel bed, the faint light casting shadows that only emphasized his toned chest. His dark eyes smoldered into the camera, and his messy hair added to the whole “devil-may-care” aesthetic he wore so well.

Javier: Feeling really lonely over here. Could use some company.

Heat pooled low in your belly and you groaned, tossing your phone onto the bed as if distance could break the spell he seemed to have on you. But of course, curiosity won out, and you grabbed it again, typing out a response before you could second-guess yourself.

You: Flattery and thirst traps won’t work on me.

Javier: Who said it was flattery? Just being honest.

You: Still not happening.

Javier: Okay, how about a compromise?

You: What kind of compromise?

Javier: Drinks. Just the two of us. Down at the hotel bar. Public place, no pressure.

You bit your lip, weighing your options. Saying yes felt like walking into a trap, but a part of you was curious—and maybe, just maybe, a little tempted. The idea of sitting across from him, away from the crowd, felt… different. Safer. Almost.

You: Fine. One drink.

Javier: I’ll take it. Meet you there in ten?

You: Fifteen. I need to change.

Javier: You don’t have to change for me, sweetheart. You already look perfect.

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips as you tossed your phone onto the bed and rifled through your suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, you stepped into the elevator, your heart pounding with anticipation and nerves as you descended to the hotel bar.

The bar was dimly lit, with warm amber hues reflecting off the polished surfaces. The low hum of conversation mingled with the clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere both intimate and unassuming. You spotted Javier immediately.

He sat at a corner table, leaning back in his chair. He’d changed into a simple black button-down that clung to his frame in a way that was almost unfair. His gaze locked onto you the moment you entered.

“Right on time,” he said, standing as you reached the table. He pulled out a chair for you, a small but unexpected gesture that caught you off guard.

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, settling into the seat.

“Noted.” His smile widened as he slid into the chair opposite you.

The server appeared almost instantly, and Javier gestured for you to order first. You requested a simple cocktail, while he opted for whiskey on the rocks. As the server walked away, his attention returned to you and it wasn’t long before they returned with them.

“So,” he began, leaning forward slightly. “What convinced you to come down here?”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Curiosity, I guess. Wanted to see if you were as charming one-on-one as you are with a crowd.”

“And?”

You took a deliberate sip of your drink before answering. “Jury’s still out.”

He chuckled, “I’m not worried. I’m good under pressure.”

The banter came easily, the conversation flowing in a way that surprised you. He was quick-witted, teasing without being overbearing, and as much as you hated to admit it, he was easy to talk to, it felt like knew him without knowing him. The more you spoke, the more you caught glimpses of the man behind the cocky facade—sharp, observant, and surprisingly thoughtful.

Still, you made him work for it.

Whenever his compliments grew too bold, you deflected with a teasing remark. When he leaned in a little too close, you leaned back, though you couldn’t ignore the thrill that ran through you each time he tested your resolve.

“I like this game you’re playing,” he said after a while, his whiskey glass nearly empty.

“What game?” you asked innocently.

“The one where you pretend you’re not interested.” His gaze was unwavering, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.

“I’m not pretending,” you replied, though the words sounded less convincing than you’d hoped.

He tilted his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “No? Then why are you still here?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the truth caught in your throat. Why were you still here?

Before you could come up with an excuse, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing yours. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“Listen,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word, and I’ll back off. No hard feelings.”

For the first time that night, you saw something unguarded in his expression—genuine sincerity that made your heart stutter. You hesitated, your walls cracking under the weight of his words. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, or the way his thumb brushed against your knuckles, but something in you shifted.

“Okay,” you said quietly.

His brow lifted. “Okay, what?”

“Okay… you’re not completely unbearable.”

He laughed, the sound genuine and warm. “High praise.”

“You know, I didn’t say I wasn’t interested,” you admitted finally, your voice quieter than you intended. “I just don’t know if this is a good idea.”

His smirk softened into something gentler, his fingers still lightly brushing yours on the table. “Not everything has to be a good idea to be worth it, sweetheart,” he said.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Is that your life philosophy, or just your way of convincing women to give you their number?”

“Both,” he said with a shrug, his grin returning. “And it’s worked out pretty well so far.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension between you eased slightly. The conversation shifted after that, the teasing banter giving way to something more genuine. He asked about your life, your work, your dreams—and for every question he asked, he shared something about himself, too.

“I wasn’t always this guy,” he admitted at one point, swirling the remnants of his whiskey in his glass. “I used to be a cop. A real one. Back in Colombia.”

You blinked, surprised. “A cop? Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah. DEA, actually.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Seriously? What made you leave?”

His expression darkened briefly, a shadow crossing his features. “Let’s just say… the job took its toll. And I realized I wanted something different. Something lighter.” He glanced at you then, a hint of humor returning to his voice. “Though I’m not sure stripping is what my father had in mind when I told him I was switching careers.”

The two of you laughed, and the conversation continued to flow. By the time your drinks were empty, you realized you were leaning forward, hanging onto his every word.

Javier glanced at the time on his phone and then back at you. “I hate to say it, but the bar’s closing soon.”

You nodded, a strange mix of disappointment and relief settling over you. “Guess I should head back to my room.”

“Yeah.” He hesitated, as if weighing his next words carefully. “Can I walk you to your door?”

Your pulse quickened at the question, but you nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you rode the elevator in silence, the charged tension between you filling the small space. When you reached your floor, he stepped out with you, his presence at your side was both comforting and exhilarating.

When you finally stopped outside your door, you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Well… this is me.”

“Home sweet hotel,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense.

You fiddled with your key card, unsure of what to say. He didn’t push, didn’t try to move closer. Instead, he simply smiled.

“I had a good time tonight,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for giving me a chance.”

You swallowed hard, his words sending a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the tequila. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with unspoken possibilities, each one more tempting than the last. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft, hesitant at first—a test to see if this was really what you wanted. But the moment his lips moved against yours, everything else fell away. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch warm and steady as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out,” you replied.

His smile was slow, almost lazy. “Careful, sweetheart. I just might take you up on that.”

As Javier lingered, you found yourself hesitating. The way he kissed you had ignited something within you—something raw.

You opened your door but didn’t step inside, glancing back at him. "Well, you coming?”

He arched a brow, that teasing smirk returning. “You sure?”

You laughed softly. “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Javier followed you inside. The dim light of the room cast shadows across his face, softening the sharp lines of his features. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as he studied you.

“So,” he drawled, his tone playful but low. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

You swallowed, heat rising to your cheeks. “I think you know Javier.”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his fingers lightly grabbing your wrist. He guided you to sit on the edge of the bed and his voice dropped an octave. “If we’re doing this, I’m in control, ¿entiendes?”

You nodded, and it must have been obvious how nervous you were.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands brushing your knees as he stepped between them. “This is supposed to be fun.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control. He leaned closer, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Do me a favor,” he whispered. “Touch yourself. Just a little.”

Your eyes widened, your pulse skyrocketing. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said. “I want to watch you.”

When you hesitated, his hand trailed up your thigh, his touch light but maddening. “Go on beautiful,” he urged. “Show me how you make yourself feel good.”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing to your cheeks and pooling low in your belly. Javier leaned back slightly, giving you space but never breaking eye contact. His gaze was dark, commanding, and utterly unapologetic. He wanted this. Wanted you vulnerable, open, and completely at his mercy.

You hesitated, your heart pounding like a drum, but the way his fingers skimmed over your thigh made it impossible to think straight. “Don’t be shy,” he murmured, his voice coaxing yet dripping with authority. “I want to see every bit of you, mi amor.”

Your hand trembled as it moved to the hem of your dress. Slowly, you slid it higher, exposing more of your thighs to his burning gaze. He walked back and pulled up a chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, but his eyes never wavered from you. The way he looked at you—as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. The praise sent a shiver through your body. You could feel your arousal building, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

Your breath shuddered as your fingers brushed the fabric of your panties, the dampness betraying just how much his presence, his words, his command, had affected you. You glanced at him, unsure, but his gaze was steady, his jaw tight, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your pulse race.

Slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the fabric, the first tentative touch drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. Javier's expression darkened with hunger, his composure unraveling ever so slightly as he leaned forward.

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Let me see how beautiful you are when you can’t hold back.”

Your fingers began to move in slow circles, your body responding to your touch almost instinctively. The heat between your thighs grew, and your hips shifted slightly, seeking more pressure. The room seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the sound of your breathing and the faint rustle of your movements.

Javier's eyes never left you. His own restraint was evident in the way his fists clenched, the way his chest rose and fell a little too fast. “I want to hear you. Don’t hold back from me.”

You whimpered, your movements becoming more confident, more insistent as you lost yourself in the moment. Every sound you made, every twitch of your body, seemed to light a fire in him. His control was slipping, and it was intoxicating to know that you were the one unraveling him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Keep going, just like that.”

Javier’s gaze burned into you, the tension in his jaw betraying how tightly he was holding himself back. But then, he shifted, his hands moving to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, exposing the golden skin of his chest. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if daring you to keep watching even as your own hand continued its rhythm.

“Don’t stop,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding, the sound vibrating through you. His shirt slid off his shoulders, and he let it fall to the floor. Then, his hands moved to his belt, the metallic clink making your breath hitch. He undid it in a single, fluid motion, the sound of the zipper following shortly after.

He was breathtaking. The sharp angles of his hips, the sculpted planes of his abdomen, the sheer strength of his frame—it was as if he had been carved just for you. Heat coiled low in your belly, a visceral reaction to the undeniable evidence of his desire for you.

Your eyes traveled over him, lingering shamelessly, drinking in every inch of him. His dark eyes burned into yours, filled with a heat that left you both vulnerable and electrified.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling exposed under his gaze despite still being partially clothed. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing he could see—made your pulse race and your chest tighten with need.

The air between you crackled with an unspoken hunger, and you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide how deeply he affected you.

His hand wrapped around his shaft, a groan slipping from his lips as he began to stroke slowly, matching the rhythm you’d set for yourself. “Look at me,” he said. “Don’t hide from me, nena.”

The sight of him, so confident, so completely at ease with his own pleasure, made your own need intensify. Your movements quickened, your body arching slightly as the tension in your core built. His gaze flickered over you, drinking in every shiver, every gasp, every movement of your hand.

“Dios mío,” he murmured, his strokes becoming faster as he watched you. “You’re so beautiful like this. I could watch you forever.”

Javier’s hand stilled suddenly, and you watched as he got up, his body exuding confidence and unrelenting command. He stepped closer, towering over you where you sat, his dark eyes still heavy with desire. He leaned down, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his voice a seductive rasp as he said, “Come here.”

You hesitated, your heart racing, unsure of what he was asking. But he took your hand, pulling you gently to your feet, and his lips brushed your ear. “I want you to dance for me. Just for me.”

“I—I don’t know if I can,” you stammered, your cheeks burning. The idea made your pulse race, the vulnerability and intimacy of it all was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

His hands moved to your waist, steadying you. “Yes, you can, you’re perfect.”

His words wrapped around you, melting your hesitation. Slowly, you began to sway, your movements tentative at first, but his gaze never wavered, filled with encouragement and raw need.

Your fingers found the hem of your dress, and you began to lift it, inch by inch, exposing your skin. His eyes tracked every motion, his breaths deep and heavy, fueling your confidence. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you in your underwear. You turned away from him, your fingers trembling as you unclasped your bra, letting it slide off your shoulders before finally slipping out of your panties.

“Fuck, you are so beautfiul.”

You felt the power in his words, the way they stoked your courage and your desire. With each slow sway of your hips, you inched closer to him, the magnetic pull between you was impossible to resist. His heated gaze anchored you, igniting a fire that coursed through your veins.

You ran your hands down your body, over your curves, letting him watch as you closed the distance. His chest heaved as you straddled him and the tip of his cock brushed against your core, you froze, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

“You’re doing so good,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. “Just like that. Take your time, baby. Feel every second of it.

“Javi,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I don’t know if I—”

“Yes, you do,” he interrupted, his hands sliding up your thighs to rest on your hips. His touch was firm, guiding but never forcing. “You’ve got this, baby. Dance for me—on me. Take your time.”

The raw hunger in his voice undid you. He guided your movements as you began to grind against him, slow and sensual. Your body aligned with his as you slid against him, teasing him with every slow grind. His head fell back against the chair, his jaw clenched as he groaned your name.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands tightening their grip, encouraging your movements. “Just like that. Feel me, nena. Let me feel all of you.”

The sensation stole your breath as you took him inch by inch, your body adjusting to his size. His growl of pleasure rumbled through you, his hands guiding you down until you were completely seated. The stretch, the fullness—it was overwhelming and it felt so good.

“Now move, baby,” he urged, his voice strained. “Show me how good you can make us feel.”

You began to roll your hips, your movements slow and deliberate as you rode him, your bodies perfectly in sync. The connection between you felt electric, every thrust and grind drawing you closer together. His hands explored your body, his lips tracing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone as you moved, his murmured praises driving you to the brink.

Each undulation of your hips sent a new wave of pleasure crashing through you, and as you rode him, the world melted away, leaving only the two of you tangled in passion and ecstasy.

The sensation made you both gasp, his hands tightening on your hips as you began to move. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Ride me. Just like that.”

The tension coiled tighter with every roll of your hips, the friction building to a fever pitch as Javier groaned your name like a prayer. His hands gripped your waist firmly, guiding your movements, his thumbs pressing bruising circles into your skin as if to anchor himself. The entire time his gaze stayed locked on yours, dark and intense, as if he wanted to memorize the way you looked in this moment—completely undone above him.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “You feel so damn good.”

The words lit you up, your pace quickening as you chased the edge, that blinding release that teased just out of reach. Your breaths mingled with his, sharp and ragged, the room heavy with the sound of skin meeting skin and the delicious symphony of your pleasure.

“Javi,” you gasped.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding up your back to cradle your face. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Something in his voice broke you, the sincerity laced with desire, the unshakable promise that he wouldn’t let you fall. Your body tensed, your movements stuttering as the first shockwaves of pleasure crashed through you, and you cried out his name as you shattered around him.

Javier didn’t falter. He held you steady, his grip firm as he ground his hips up to meet yours, pulling you through the aftershocks until you were trembling in his arms. The intensity of it left you breathless, and you slumped forward, resting your forehead against his as you tried to gather yourself.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice still thick with need, though his concern for you was evident.

You nodded, chest heaving as you caught your breath. “Yeah,” you whispered.

“Your turn to relax. I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could respond, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he stood. A soft squeak escaped you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he carried you across the room.

“Javi, I can walk,” you protested weakly, though you made no effort to pull away.

“I know you can,” he teased, “but I like having you right where you are.”

The bed was cool against your back when he laid you down, but his body quickly chased away the chill. Javier followed you down, his weight settling between your thighs.

“Now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face as his gaze softened. “Where were we?”

Javier’s lips captured yours in a kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, savoring every second, and you couldn’t help but melt into him.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of heat as he paused to suck and nip at the sensitive skin. His hands explored you, tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips before sliding lower. Every touch sent shivers through you, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasps escaping your lips.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured against your skin. “Every inch of you.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched into him, your body aching for more. “Javi, please,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

He chuckled softly. “Patience, sweetheart. You just taste so good.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your body arching involuntarily. “Javier, I need… I need you.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “You’re so beautiful like this. All mine.”

As his lips moved lower, he pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, his hands spreading you gently. The anticipation made your body tremble, your legs parting instinctively as you felt him pause, his breath hot against your core.

“Perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before he leaned in.

The first touch of his tongue made you cry out, your fingers clutching at the sheets as he worked you with slow movements. Javier groaned softly, his grip firm on your thighs as he held you open, the sound vibrating through you and heightening the pleasure.

Your hips bucked against him, and you gasped, “Javi, please, I’m so close.”

He lifted his head slightly, his lips glistening as he smirked at you. “I love hearing you beg for me, come on let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

His tongue and suddenly his fingers moved together in perfect rhythm, lapping, sucking and moving just right. The tension in your belly coiled tighter until it snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves that left you trembling. Javier didn’t stop until your body softened beneath his touch, his movements slowing as he kissed your thighs and worked his way back up your body.

By the time he reached your lips, you were breathless, your body buzzing with aftershocks. He kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

“How was that beautiful?” he murmured, brushing his nose against yours.

“Incredible,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw.

Javier groaned softly at your touch, his restraint visibly fraying. He kissed you harder, his body pressing into yours as his arousal became impossible to ignore. “You sure you’re ready for more?”

You answered by rolling your hips against him, earning a sharp inhale as he gritted his teeth. “I need you, Javi. Please fuck me.”

That was all it took. He positioned himself, his gaze locked on yours as he pushed into you in one slow, steady motion. The stretch was intense, and you gasped, clinging to him as your body adjusted.

“Jesus,” he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. “You feel so fucking good, so damn tight.”

“Move..please,” you urged softly, your lips brushing his ear.

He obeyed, pulling back before thrusting in again, setting a rhythm that was slow but deep. Every movement drew you closer until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

His hand slid between you, his thumb finding your most sensitive spot, teasing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re taking me so well.”

Your nails raked down his back, the pleasure building impossibly fast. “Javier,” you whimpered, your body tightening around him as the tension reached its breaking point.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned, his pace quickening as he chased his own release. “Come for me, give me one more.”

His words were your undoing. You shattered around him, your cries filling the room as pleasure consumed you. Javier followed moments later, his movements faltering as he buried himself deep, a guttural groan escaping him as he found his release.

For a while, neither of you moved, the room quiet except for the sound of your ragged breaths. Eventually, Javier rolled to the side, pulling you close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips soft and tender.

He chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath your cheek. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “You’re not so innocent yourself, Javier.”

His smirk returned. “Get some rest, baby,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over you both. “You’ll need it for round two.”

#fic rec #like REALLY fic rec #javier peña x reader

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white-mans-whore14 · 1 day ago

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Going out

Paige Bueckers x fem!reader

Knock knock

“Ugh,” you groaned. Slowly getting up from your comfy position in your bed, you walked to the door eagerly anticipating your friend Paige on the other end.

“Hey baby,” Paige said with a beautiful smile on her face. She leaned into your apartment to give you a kiss on the cheek. Your friendship, strictly friendship as you sometimes had to remind yourself, with Paige was always a little more than friendly. All the people you personally knew could clearly tell that the two of you were in love with each other but you and the blonde failed to see it.

“Hi Paige. What are you doing here?” You questioned. You weren’t expecting her and she usually texted before she just appeared at your door.

“I can’t just pop in because I miss you?” Paige asked while pouting. She made her way inside after you leaned to the side indicating her being welcomed.

“You can Paige but I know that’s not it,” you said with an attitude and your hands on your hips.

“Well…the girls are all going out tonight and they wanted me to invite you. Not that I would go without you ma. We’re going to Ted’s and pregame is at mine. How’s that sound?” Paige asked leaning into you.

“Yeah sounds fun,” you say walking into your kitchen for a glass of water. Paige follows behind you like a lost puppy. “What time should I come over?” You ask facing away from her and filling a glass with water.

“Like 6? I’m gonna get dinner for us so let me know what you want,” Paige said after you turned back around.

“Ooo pizza sounds good but ask the girls what they want too. You know me I’m usually down for anything,” you say opening the fridge and pouring some water out into a cup.

“Lmao that’s what she said,” Paige retorts while laughing. You give the girl an eye roll and she turns around walking back toward your door.

“I’ll see you at 6 babe?” Paige questioned while turning around to say goodbye.

“Yeah I’ll be there,” you responded while opening the door for her. Paige turned around walking out the door. Just as she was about to leave the entrance she turned around and placed a hand on your hip before checking you out.

“Wear that cute blue shiny top for me?” Paige asked with a pouty face.

“I don’t know. I’ll have to see. I got a couple of new tops from Forever 21 so I might wear one of those instead.” Your sighed while looking up into Paige’s eyes.

“Whatever you want baby,” Paige said while pushing some of your hair back.

“Bye Paige,” you said as she slowly pulled away from you.

…

“Shit,” you mumbled. You didn’t time manage properly. You were supposed to be at Paige’s by now but you were at least a 5 minute walk from hers. You quickly grabbed your wallet, lipgloss and phone and put on your bar shoes. You sped walked to Paige’s while pulling down your top every 30 seconds. You seemingly got a size too small given that your tits were spilling over and more than half your midriff was out but whatever. You felt hot so you went with it.

Four minutes later you finally make your way down the corridor of Paige’s apartment building and knock on her door.

“Hey b-,” Paige starts to say before she stops herself and takes in your outfit. “Shit babe you tying to give me a heat attack tonight?” Paige states leaning against the door with a red solo cup in her hand.

“You like?” You questioned while giving her a little spin. She opened her door more so you could make your way inside.

“Do I like y/n? Of course I like. I think you could show up in a trash bag and I would still be all over you,” Paige says while walking you over to the food. You let out a little laugh at Paige’s statement before grabbing a paper plate and two slices of pizza.

“You want your regular honey?” Paige asks while you walk over to the other girls and say hi.

“Yes please!” You say over your shoulder.

“Hey guys! How’s everyone been?” You ask Ice and KK.

“Slay queen you look goood” KK says and you hug both of them really quick.

“Hey hands off musty,” Paige says towards KK while slinging an arm over your shoulder. Her drink in one hand and yours in another.

“Thanks Paige,” you say in response to her giving you your drink. You take a sip and she gives you a look. “Perfect Paige. I think if the basketball thing doesn’t workout you can give bartending a try,” you say sarcastically towards Paige.

…

After some chitchatting, a few more slices of pizza, and a lot more drinks you and all the girls decide it’s time to head to the bar.

“Wait I can’t find my wallet,” you says turning around to look at your surrounds and checking your pockets.

“Cmon babe you know I got you,” Paige says while waiting for you to take her hand.

“Stop Paige I have shit I need in there,” you say making eye contact with her. You decide to lean over and see if your wallet fell in between the couch cushions. As you’re bending over Paige takes a good look at your ass and sighs.

“Thank you Jesus for lost wallets,” she mumbled towards Ice.

“Found it,” you say contently making your way over towards Paige and holding her outstretched hand. “Let’s go!” You say enthusiastically letting the alcohol warm you up a bit.

On the short walk over Paige keeps her hand low on your waist and whispers words about how good you look on the walk over.

“God you’re beautiful you’re know that?” She whispers before quickly kissing you on the temple.

“I’m gonna have to fight bitches off tonight huh,” she says a little more loudly.

“Do y’all need to head back and fuck it out of your system?” Ice says loudly from the front of the group.

“You know what yeah I would like that,” Paige says sarcastically. She knows she meant it. Everyone else knows she meant it but you. This was the problem she was always all over you and when someone would says something like the comment Ice made, she would brush it off. It made you feel so insecure. Like you weren’t good enough. God she pissed you off at times like this. You were a delight. Anyone would be lucky to have you and that’s what you mission was tonight. Find someone that will actually have the balls to make you feel wanted.

You brushed Paige’s hand off your waist and speed up to walk in pace with Ashlynn and Morgan.

“Hey girl. How you feeling?” Ashlynn said warily. Everyone knew about how Paige’s lack of courage made you feel. They had all had multiple interventions for her to convince her to tell you she loves you but she never listened. The girls hated hearing your end of it and how it made you feel like you weren’t enough. Or god forbid too much.

“Pissed,” you stated plainly. While keeping up with their pace even though you were quite tipsy by this point.

“Well maybe you need to find someone to take your kind off of her,” Morgan suggested. Ash quickly turned over and looked at her with wide eyes. She knew tonight was going to go terribly if you took her advice.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. I need to find someone that will finally want me,” you say emotionally.

“I’m sure she wants you y/n. She probably just doesn’t know how to tell you,” Ash suggests.

“Well if she doesn’t figure it out soon I’m going to find someone else that will appreciate me.” You said finally.

Once you guys made it into the bar Paige and Ashlynn went to get drinks while the rest of you guys found a place to liger.

Paige got back with your favorite tequila sunrise with a splash of cranberry juice when she found you talking to a guy in the corner. She was livid to put it lightly. You were hers and everyone should know that by now. The guy you were taking with had a hand on your waist. The same place that Paige’s hand had occupied earlier and Paige was convinced she was having a heart attack.

“What do I do?” She said loudly over the music to KK.

“Tell her you love her girl,” KK said obviously.

“But what if she doesn’t feel it back?” Paige questioned urgently. From her view it looked like you and this guys were seconds away from kissing and she had to stop it.

“I don’t know girl. I’ve tried to convince you enough but it’s up to you in the end. If you don’t tell her then she’s going to end up with someone else.” KK responded.

Paige couldn’t believe her eyes when she looked away from KK. You and this guy were kissing in the corner. His hand on your waist and your hand on his jaw. Paige felt a push form behind her and decided enough was enough.

“Hey she’s taken,” she says loudly. You two slowly let go and he chuckles.

“I’m making out with her. I highly doubt it,” he says before leaning back in. You weren’t feeling it anymore. The alcohol was hitting you too hard and you didn’t want to do something you might regret even if it was too late. You couldn’t stand the look in Paige’s eyes.

The guys leans in again to continue making out but you push at him a little to get him off of you. He grumpily walks off.

You turn towards Paige and grab your drink from her hand.

“What was that?” You say turning towards Paige.

“I love you,” she says with a smile of her face

“what do you mean?” You ask.

“Like I’m in love with you and I want to only be with you and I only want you to be with me,” she says over the music.

You pull her outside while pushing the drink into Morgans hand.

Once you two finally make it out you turn back an ríase your eyebrow waiting for her to explain.

“I’m sorry baby. I should have said this earlier but I’m a stupid idiot and never thought you liked me back,” Paige says while stepping toward you.

“Paige…you can’t just say shit like this after how you’ve been treating me,” you respond angrily. “I have been feeling so hurt and unworthy of your love for the past six months. You treat me like a girlfriend and the when someone makes a comment about us maybe being together, you laugh it off like it would never happen. That hurts me Paige. You have made me feel so unbelievably insecure like no one could want me. Do you know how that feels. No you don’t cuz you’re Paige Bueckers.” You rant out

“That’s very valid but trust me when I say I never meant to make you feel insecure baby. You deserve everything you ever want in the world and I am ready to give that to you,” she says while holding your hands to her chest.

“I will love you until I die baby,” Paige says while looking deep into your eyes.

“But what about everyone else?” You ask.

“Who? No one else will ever matter to me like you do baby,” Paige says.

“Promise?” You ask while starting the walk back to her apartment.

“Promise y/n,” she says while interlacing your fingers.

“For what it’s worth, I love you too. So much,” you say with a huge smile on your face.

Once the two of you get back and do your nightly routines. The two of you get in bed. You face each other while sitting in bed and talk for a bit.

“Wait I didn’t even ask,” Paige says with a start.

“Ask what?” You questions while playing with her fingers.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” She looks at you with hesitant eyes.

“Of course Paige,” you reply.

You lean forward and connect your lips with hers. You move your hand up toward her neck while she moves hers down to your hip as the kiss escalates. She tentatively brushes her tongue against your bottom lip and the feeling of her tongue makes you gasp and she uses that moment to lightly push her tongue in.

Your tongue pushes back on hers while you softly whine into the kiss. The noise makes her grip on your waist tighten.

You slowing get up from your seated position and climb into her lap. The kiss continues with a new intesity and heat. You’re pulling at her hair and she’s griping your waist willing you to not disappear. You’re softly grinding back and forth on her lap which makes her let out a groan.

Your tongues dance back and forth creating a new deep rhythm.

“God you’re so good baby,” she whispers when the two of you break for a second.

You push back into the kiss and grind into her with the movements of your body. You feel yourself getting turned on and when Paige lightly bites on your lower lip you gasp. Paige uses this opportunity to lean back and admire you for a bit.

Fresh, makeup free face with the dewiness of your skincare routine. Lips slightly pouty and red, and with a slight blush on your cheeks you whine.

“Why’d you pull away?” You ask softly with your hands holding Paige’s neck and jaw.

“Because while I’d love to have my way with you, we should go slow. I don’t want to mess this up. And I know this would be your first time being with a girl, so I want to show you and teach you everything but slowly.” Paige says looking deeply into your eyes.

“It would be my first time ever,” you say nervously. You were always insecure about how inexperienced you were especially now in Paige’s lap, being her girlfriend, after all the experience you know she has.

Paige’s eyes widen slightly. “Really? You’ve never been with anyone?” She asked genuinely.

“Yeah I guess I never felt like I trusted anyone enough till now,” you say.

“I’m so happy you trust me baby. And in due time I’ll show you everything sex has to offer,” Paige says kissing you again.

“I can’t wait,” you says briefly before reconnecting your lips with hers. The kiss picks back up but slower and softer this time.

After a few more minutes of making out, you and Paige decide it’s finally time to go to bed.

You both situate yourselves under the covers with her spooning you from the back. Her head is softly placed in the crook of your neck, and she pressed kisses into your neck from behind.

“Good night beautiful,” Paige mumbles lightly before passing out.

“Good night Paige,” you whisper back while wiggling back into her body to be as close to her as possible.

A/N: I’m back!! Let me know if y’all want a part two to this which would basically be smut lol.

#paige bueckers imagines #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader

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immortalmrwavell · 2 days ago

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Wavell’s Vacation 1

(Original story posted August 23rd 2022) This story has received mild edits and corrections

Read the Origin of Mr Wavell here!

It’d been quite some time since I first took this body as my own and adopted the name Mr Wavell. I’ve gotta say though, with my full power finally within my grasp along with a hot dilf body to go with it, it’s easily been the best years of my life. Swapping men left and right. Transforming their bodies. Giving them the means to possess each over. I’ve made hunky dads trade bodies with their jock sons. I’ve forced skinny twinks to grow into thick hairy bears. I’ve enabled lowly workers the chance to possess or swap bodies with their powerful bosses. Even allowing women to transform themselves into hot beefy studs. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

As much as I love my ‘job’ however, I thought it’d be good to take a short break. A holiday of sorts. You see as much as I mess around with the bodies of other men, I don’t really change my own that much. Part of that is due to the fact that I can’t transform myself without risking my health. I took this form and absorbed its mind into my own because it was compatible with my power but if I mess around with it then I fear that may no longer be the case. That said I can still possess others…

Once again however possession is a bit tricky. Not so much for me but more for the person I’m inhabiting. Most people’s bodies aren’t built to contain the insane amount of raw magical power I possess. All this means really is that I can’t be inside one body for longer than about a week. Any more and it will start to have some heavy adverse effects on my host. Because of this I don’t often bother possessing people. I liked my body after all so I don’t really feel much of a need. But I suppose if I’m going on a vacation I might as well go the full mile right?

With that in mind I’d decided to take on three different incredibly hot men for a week each.

Week 1

For my first target I wanted to go big. A man who was not only hot but also well known and beloved by many. There were a bunch of different industries that contained men like this. A big one being the TV and Film industry with all its sexy actors and another being the sports industry with its wide array of hunky athletes. After some thought I decided to go with the latter. And what better sport to cherry pick a hunky body from than good ol’ American Football. I might’ve been English myself, or at least my host was, but I could never deny myself the delight of American athletes.

Initially I considered going for someone more current who was still very active in the sport today. That is until I was hanging around and observing some football fans. They mentioned the name of a certain retired player that caught my ear immediately. Tim Tebow. Yes I’d heard of him. He was a handsome fucker if I remembered correctly. And once his name was in my head I just couldn’t get it out. That’s when I knew what body I’d be taking first.

It didn’t take long for me to find the Ex-player’s house and luckily for me he was completely home alone. I found him just outside his house talking to some neighbours. Fuck did he look delicious right now wearing that tight navy shirt and those fitted jeans. Oh I just couldn’t wait to jump inside!

I waited around for awhile until he finished talking to those neighbours. I didn’t want to make a scene after all. Not that I wasn’t tempted. Thankfully though it wasn’t long until he was waving goodbye and heading back into his own garden. Practically the second that Tim was out of sight from anyone else, I made my move.

Watching as he stretched his arms and yawned, I couldn’t help but smirk. If that wasn’t an invitation then I don’t know what was. I wasted no time diving my ghostly body head first into his open mouth. Tim’s eyes went wide as suddenly he couldn’t close his mouth while my invisible form forced itself down his throat. There was nothing he could do as my being slipped inside with ease despite his attempts to somehow stop me and pull me out. Before long the last of my form pushed its way down his throat and settled inside.

I didn’t take immediate control. Instead i left him to freak out for a moment in wonder of what the fuck had just happened. Only then did I start to flow some of my energy into his limbs starting with his legs and feet. Suddenly Tim found himself walking against his will towards his house with me as his puppet master. Due to his upper body freaking out we almost fell a few times leading to me taking control of his back as well to keep us upright.

Before long I’d managed to walk us up to his door where I took control of his right arm to let us inside. Tim began to panic more as he lost further control of his body. Soon enough we made it to his bathroom where we looked into the reflection. I took control of the rest of his torso along with his left arm and neck so I could begin flexing a little show off.

“AGHH Stop! Stop please!” Tim begged without even knowing who he was pleading to. “What’s happening to me?!” He wailed.

Just then Tim’s expression switched from worry and panic to calm and devious. “I’m taking your body for spin, that’s what’s happening.” I said using his own voice.

His face returns to its prior worried expression. “W-what! No! Why did I?… Oooooahhhh…” Tim began to groan out as I finally took control of his cock and balls, flooding them with my raw sexual energy as the bulge in our jeans grew substantially. “Noooooo… Get out of my… body!” Tim grunted as his cock began to pulse rapidly until…

“Ooh… FUUUUuuuuuuuucckkk!” I moaned out as I forced us to blow a massive load, soaking the inside of these well fitted jeans. After a short cool down, I groped my wet, sticky bulge a little before announcing “Sorry my man, no can do. For the next week I’m gonna be the new Tim Tebow..” A grin broke out across my stolen face as I claimed it. I could feel Tim panicking from within but there was nothing he could do now. I was in the driver's seat.

After that I jumped in the shower to get a proper look at the ex football player body I now owned. Tim had clearly made sure to himself in marvellous shape with these juicy pecs and sizeable arms. Can’t say I wasn’t happy to be groping it all from the inside. And all the strength it contained was exhilarating. Sure I had immense magical power but the physical power this form held was a whole different ball game.

Once I was done I stepped out, got dried and began raiding Tim’s closet. After all, as fun as it would be, I couldn't be seen wearing those cum-stained jeans. I didn’t want to completely tarnish his image after all. What would be the point in that?

After that I tried live the week to it’s fullest. I must’ve tried on almost every outfit Tim owned (which was many) and loved seeing how each item was perfectly tailored to his body. I would’ve had to use magic to resize most of this to my regular body but now it stretched over my new muscle in all the right places to show off. Of course I had fun in many other ways too though. One of which was tapping into Tim’s memories and personality to trick his family, friends and fans into believing that I really was him! Such a rush I gotta tell ya. I mean I’ve done this very thing to so many other men, allowing them to possess or switch bodies with the man they desire but doing it myself is just a different kind of pleasure.

I’ve gotta say though one of my favourite parts was sneaking out during the evening and hooking up with some hot dudes. Needless to say they were more than surprised to see the straight christian man Tim Tebow cheating on his wife for some hot gay sex but they certainly weren’t going to decline the opportunity. Had so many dudes pretty much salivating over the chance to wrap their lips around my celebrity cock or to press their faces into my jock ass. Each encounter went like a dream. For them and for me.

Unfortunately Tim’s wife did get suspicious eventually. She wondered why I wasn’t being as affectionate and why I was leaving the house so often. I was hoping I could get through the week without this but I didn’t want anyone to think something was up. And so what I ended up doing was digging into Tim’s subconscious and begrudgingly connecting myself to his heterosexuality. The second I did, I saw his wife in a whole new light.

Before long we were on the bed together, kissing and pulling off each overs clothes. Suddenly I can see why straight dudes are so fascinated with breasts, I couldn’t keep my hands off her jiggling tits. And before I knew it I’d plunged Tim’s cock into her pussy and started plowing away. I’m not gonna say it felt better than fucking a hot hairy ass but it still felt pretty damn good. I continued to fuck her like animal, making it as passionate as possible for *her sake*. What do I mean by her sake? Well during this I had a very fun idea that I was going to put into action later.

Soon enough I found myself unloading Tim’s balls inside her, filling her up in a horny haze. She looked satisfied and so was I. Once that was done I let out a sigh of relief and detached myself from Tim’s heterosexuality. Being a straight man was weird. I mean I didn’t hate it I suppose but it definitely wasn’t me. I was gay through and through and I wanted it to stay that way.

By this point I had two more days inside Tim’s flesh before I had to vacate so I was sure to make it count. Getting in as much delicious gay sex as I could inside this formerly straight christian body. I even had one guy with a fantasy of fucking me while wearing Tim’s old football gear. Thankfully he still had it stored away and it fit like a glove. Let’s just say by the end of that night there was a cock sized hole in the back of those football pants where my aching asshole had been fucked relentlessly and filled to the brim with cum.

Eventually however, my time came to an end and I had to leave this beautiful body. It was a fun ride while it lasted. I got to meet a bunch of Tim’s fans, loving how they reacted with such excitement upon seeing me. I got to live out the life of a well known celebrity. And most of all I got to pop this body’s homosexual cherry. Speaking off…

After I launched my soul back out through Tim’s mouth, I watched as he fell the ground unconscious. Of course I could’ve just left things like that but I just couldn’t help myself. I reached inside his mind and found his heterosexuality. After which I linked Tim’s mind up to a gay dude not far from here who had a bunch of Tim Tebow posters around his room. Then all I had to do was close my eyes and focus. Tim and this other miscellaneous gay man, who’s name was Nathan, had a surge of energy run through their bodies. And just like that, they had switched. Not bodies but rather they’d switched sexualities. When Tim awakens he’ll start to notice an absence of attraction to his wife and will soon start popping boners for hot dudes he sees either online or in real life. It’s certainly gonna be interesting to see if he remains faithful and tries to make it work with his wife or if he splits from her and embraces his new orientation.

On the other hand, I might have to check up on that Nathan dude at some point as well. Suddenly no longer being interested in dick and dude ass, instead finding himself with a craving for pussy and a fascination with tits. Oh I can only imagine how he’ll cope.

But for now I’m off to find my next body…

Read the Second Part and Third Part here!

#mr wavell #male body theft #identity theft #male possession #forced possession #hunk possession #celeb possession #male takeover #magic #gay to straight #jock

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k1mbe3rly · 2 days ago

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I got another request for youuu 😘 ok so hear me out , a Myung-gi and jun- hee threesumn (let's pretend junhee isnt pregnant ok? 👩‍🦲) , so could you do where junhee and f!reader are making out in the bathroom or wtv and Myunggi joins (junhee and him are still ex's but in the heat of the moment junhee didnt really care😶) (idkk , this is so random help) and it turns into rough sex or smth like that with the 3 of them?? Dom!f!reader / switch!Myunggi / sub!junhee

ouu okk prob gonna take me awhileee cause i lowkey brainstorming all day 😩

Is this normal?

warnings: Smut; ⚠️threesome⚠️ , tongue kissing, WLW, WLM, FEM! reader

Lately you’ve been avoiding the both of them, Jun hee and Myung gi. Ever since that little sexual tension thing you had with Jun hee and being caught by myung gi, you kept avoiding them both, when Jun hee infront of you, you quickly walk away or make an excuse to leave. For myung gi you didn’t even talk to him because you don’t know him, so you didn’t care but still felt embarrassed.

It was until you walked to the bathroom, Jun hee watched you as she looked back at Myung gi, He just shrugged as Jun hee rolled her eyes and quickly followed you

After you finished whatever you were doing in the stall, you went to wash your hands, while washing your hands you heard the bathroom open, you ignored it until you turned off the faucet and looked in the mirror seeing Jun hee, “oh god..” you mumbled under your breath. You have her a small bow and tried going around her. She quickly put a hand on your chest to stop you

“Why are you avoiding me?” She simply asked looking into you, you looked at her and looked away for a moment “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said casually

She had a bit of annoyance in her face when you said that “Stop playing dumb. Why are you ignoring me as well huh? Do you think it’s cute or something?” She said harshly as she pushed you into the counter a bit.

You just smacked your lips and rolled your eyes “I’m not thinking anything, it was just my first time ever doing that” you said back.

“And it was mine too. I’ve been trying to talk to you but your ignoring me like i’m some nightstand” she said as she kept staring at you

“Well i thought it was a one time thing..i didn’t think anything else of it” you sighed, as you looked way a bit, “You really think that?” She growled out, you nodded a bit, She scoffed out.

without thinking she grabbed you and kissed you harshly, you grunted out in surprise, you quickly pulled back, you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out, instead you kissed her as well, kissing went into a full makeout, her hands on your cheeks and your hands under her jacket, soft moan, both mouths moving in sync

With an opportunity you slid your tongue into her mouth, she let out a low moan as yalls tongue tangled with eachother, she started taking off her jacket and moved her hands to your jackets pulling off as well, yall were to far gone and too focused to hear the door open..

“Should’ve known.” you heard a voice, a bit too similar as last time as you pulled back and looked over to see, not suprised, Myung gi. “Ah jesus christ..what do you want?” You said causally, Myung gi shrugged and walked closer to the both of you “I don’t know, mind if i join?” He said without hesitation, you raised an eyebrow and looked at Jun hee, she shrugged “I don’t care” She said.

Not even that long after Myung gi had his cock deep inside you from behind, Jun hee infront of you making out with him as she fingered her self and playing with your boobs with the other hand.

You were moaning between them as Myung gi thrusted harshly, rough grunts vibrated thru Jun hee mouth as she continued fingering herself.

She backed up for air noticing you moaning, “Look, i think she’s about to cum Myung gi” she said chuckling, “Yea but let’s make it even..” He said panting as he kept thrusting and breathing heavily

He pulls out leaving you gasping with the loss of emptiness in your pussy now, “Jun hee take off your pants and get on the sink” Myung gi said, Jun hee was a bit confused but she did so.

Myung gi bent you between her legs so now you were facing her pussy, your hands were on her thighs and traveled to her hips, “It’s obvious to know what to do” Myung spoke giving your ass a small slap.

He than lined his tip on your entrance sliding it up and and down before thrusting in, eventually he sinked in throwing his head back and groaning

you moaned a bit but quickly put your mouth on Jun hee pussy, sucking and licking on it as she gasped, she closed her eyes moaning out and gasping, As you were eating her out, Myung gi was fucking you from behind.

Groaning and moans were filling up the empty bathroom, your tongue sliding in and out and slurping on her pussy as skin slapping was heard from behind you as well.

Not long after Jun hee gripped on your hair as she began moaning a bit loudly, you moaned into her sending vibrations which made her cum, she gasped as her cum spilled into your mouth, you had no other choice but to swallow.

Myung gi cock twitched as he thrusted a bit faster, groaning as his cummed pumped inside you, you also came at the same time, both of yalls cum mixing together.

He pulled out panting. Jun hee was the first to clean up herself already putting her pants on, not long after yall did as well.

“We should do that again sometime” Myung gi spoke happily, “Maybe not. One time thing” Jun hee said back to her cold expression as she left the bathroom, you looked at myung gi shrugging at him and quickly following after.

Myung sighed and just rolled his eyes. He followed along, Would this be a one time thing or would it happen again?

#squid game #squid game smut #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #squid game s2 #myung gi #myung gi smut #myung gi x reader #lee myung gi #player 333 #player 333 x reader #player 333 smut #kim jun hee smut #kim jun hee x reader #kim jun hee #jun hee #player 222 smut #player 222 x reader #player 222

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scurvyboy · 1 day ago

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Not to beat a dead horse or whatever, but you don’t see fiddlestan being healthy at any point? I feel like your version of them would have most of their issues figured out by the time they’re old and stuff. Can you talk about their dynamic a bit more pretty please? (I know you just had an ask about this so sorry to keep bringing it up aha 🤪. I’m obsessed with them, and I love your art/au and want to understand them.)

the basis of why i like the fiddlestan ship is strictly because it doesn't work and is doomed to fail. it's a relationship between two extremely damaged people that are only together for transactional reasons.

the way i see it starting: fiddleford comes back to gravity falls after being kicked out by emma may in hopes that he can patch things up with ford. he finds stan there instead and decides to help him fix the portal despite his crushing anxiety about it because he has nowhere else to go. they're both stuck alone in this situation and urges become apparent. things are awkward for a while before they start banging fuck nasty brokeback mountain style.

fiddleford wants stan because he's delusional and still in love with ford. sure he grows to appreciate differences between them and has a separate chemistry with stan, but he is also completely out of touch with reality and rebounding off of his failed marriage with a man who looks just like the one he cheated on his wife with. working on the portal triggers intense panic attacks, which makes him use the memory gun more, which makes him less and less stable.

stan is working himself to death trying to get ford back and just needs affection. the sexual aspect of their relationship helps him blow off steam, but fiddleford also treats him like a person with a brain and allows him to be emotionally vulnerable for the first time in a long while. having someone finally break down his walls is equal parts frightening and addictive for him; he wants to be loved so badly but knows deep down that fiddleford doesn't actually love him, just the person he represents. he's just second best again.

things start to fall apart when it becomes clear that fixing the portal will be impossible without the other journals. fiddleford basically gives up trying to do the work in earnest and just lives in a domestic fantasy world. stan starts to get more and more impatient about the lack of work getting done and the stress makes him a lot more irritated and volatile. the two enter a vicious cycle of violent fights and honeymoon phases until things boil over: stan confronts fiddleford about the memory gun and kicks him out after he tries to use it on him.

post break up fiddleford, now with his cult and savior complex, murder suicides the portal and their affair from both of their memories. however, stan gets his portal memories back being at the shack and goes on to do what he does in canon.

the whole relationship takes place over the course of a few weeks and is as canon compliant as i could manage. i think it's a really fun concept and i think about it all the time.

to be real, i really dislike the idea that all relationships in media have to be healthy and resolved in order to be compelling. the idea that characters NEED to end the story happy and together is just plain unrealistic. i prefer when stories go outside of the limits of "and then they got together and everything was great after that", especially if being in a relationship isn't necessary to a characters arc.

i do think that them getting together when they're older could work and be very nice. however, i also don't think it's entirely necessary, especially since i did make their relationship rotted gutted awful bad. it is cute though, they can kiss and watch tv and marry for taxt purposes i guess.

#i love you fiddlestan #i love how fucked up you can be #but yeah they're not in love #they're out of love and i'm going to shout it from the rooftops #i couldn't write my tumblr essay #also this took me all day to write #i was at a museum #gravity falls #fiddlestan

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historicity-was-already-taken · 2 days ago

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Received this question just now. Posting my response sans askers' username per their request:

Hi, as you are a holocaust historian, and as you mentioned in a recent post, words mean things, I was sort of wondering what you thought about people saying that what’s happening in Palestine isn’t genocide because the holocaust was genocide/6 million Jews was genocide. I’ve seen a couple people saying stuff along the lines of ‘if what’s happening in Palestine is genocide, we need another word for the holocaust’. I’m not worried about you knowing it’s me asking (like asking on anon) because I think you talk to people pretty reasonably but if you could answer it in private or without my name on the ask I would appreciate it, people seeing it could get… unpleasant, talking about this stuff and I try to stay out of the line of fire to the best of my ability. Totally fine if you don’t want to answer, I don’t want you hounded about Palestine either, it just seemed like you might have an interesting take with your studies

Anyone is capable of genocide, of following orders to commit human rights abuses, of attacking civilians, etc. No identity groups’ past—however violent and traumatic—makes them incapable of committing war crimes. Referring to what’s happening in Gaza as genocide doesn’t invalidate Jewish communal thought regarding the Holocaust. Moreover, the fact that the State of Israel has built Holocaust memory into its nation-building doesn’t mean that that country is inherently incapable of crimes against humanity. There is a cohort of primarily 65+ Jews who hold a trauma-induced belief that Israel could never be capable of these crimes because everything Israel does is in the interest of protecting the Jewish people. It’s a pretty thought, and one I used to hold, but it’s not reality. Many as well would argue that, because the October 7 attack was inherently genocidal, Israel was moral and just doing what it needed to do to bring the hostages home and stamp out Hamas cells. Indeed, these hypothetical individuals would continue, the fact that Hamas has built itself into the civilian architecture of Gaza means that Hamas is using Palestinian civilians as human shields; not that Israel is committing genocide. I personally think that’s wishful thinking. Hamas 800% bases itself near structures like hospitals and kindergartens so Israel will look bad when it attacks those places,* thus willfully allowing the people it governs to exist as human shields. HOWEVER, I don’t believe for one minute that the Israeli military doesn’t have the technology needed to seek out evidence of heat, heartbeats, etc, in hidden subterranean areas. Their counter-attack was always going to happen, but the way it’s been fought? Naw man it’s indefensible.

You know I don't do comparisons or Holocaust inversion, but I do have feelings and emotional responses which don't care about my Serious Intellectual Historian views on comparisons and Holocaust inversion. And, there's a very disturbing moment in one of my primary sources for my book where a woman describes a Nazi attack on a hospital in the Warsaw Ghetto. She describes the screaming and the panic and the civilians begging to be euthanized. Similar readings and sources exist for hospitals in Warsaw during the 1944 Warsaw Uprising when the Germans were destroying the city. I suspect similar descriptions exist of any hospital of a densely populated civilian area under siege. And, even if I was still bullheadedly in my Zionist era, I wouldn't have been able to simultaneously do the work I do, watch Israeli soldiers attacking hospitals, and emerge completely fine with everything. All of that doesn’t erase the simultaneous facts that: 1) the Holocaust happened and was a traumatic moment in Jewish History, the memory of which will endure throughout the millennia; and 2) the October 7 attacks were carried out by Hamas with genocidal intent.

What you’re seeing is people within our community dealing with cognitive dissonance. And honestly the experience of watching people lash out is stage 1 of that process (or as I call it, the Cognitive Dissonance Temper Tantrum). It’s no fun to witness, but can be positive if the person doing the temper tantrum chooses to learn from it.

ETA: When I discuss things I felt/believed in my "Zionist Era," I'm discussing stuff from when I was like, under 21 years old. For reference I am currently 35.

No one has my permission to use my words to silence other Jewish people. You have no obligation to stick around for people having cognitive dissonance freakouts or saying shitty things about Palestinians, but I see part of my...duty as being available to work with Jewish individuals who want to deal productively with their cognitive dissonance once the freakout period dies down, if they want help.

*Here my Unnamed I/P Reader notes that it’s quite a bit more complicated than stated here in part due to Gaza’s pre-Oct. 7 2023 population density.

#i feel really anxious posting this and getting emotionally real #i do think comparisons destroy context and nuance and are generally unhelpful #if not harmful #but militarized attacks on hospitals in the context of siege-esque conditions #my emotional response to that will never change

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prisjean · 6 hours ago

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lifting love | caleb x reader

synopsis: a little fluff of you and caleb at the gym, he helps you lift but notice your gaze on his muscles wink wink

a/n: i would like to be recognized as “caleb’s muscles lover” bc i can’t stop thinking about them. need to be in a headlock. i hope he comes home to me & everyone pulling! this is my first time writing so i hope you can vision what im writing. thank you for reading!

wc: 608 words

the gym filled with the hum of treadmills and the shifting of weights, but your attention was laser-focused on him. caleb. your boyfriend, with his broad shoulders and toned arms, was midway through a set of curls. his biceps flexed with each repetition, just enough to make your heart skip a beat. you loved going to the gym with your boyfriend, you wanted to be strong like him for missions. after months of going to the gym, you didn’t feel like you saw much progress but the view of your boyfriend was worth all the weightlifting and soreness.

“am I doing this right?” you teased, attempting to mimic his form with your 10-pound dumbbells. your exaggerated pose made him chuckle. a deep, warm sound that sent butterflies fluttering through your chest. “perfect form, princess” he replied with a wink, setting his weights down and stepping behind you. “but let me help ya.”

he adjusted your posture, his large hands brushing against your arms as he gently guided them. the warmth of his touch, coupled with the firmness of his grip, made you momentarily forget what you were doing. your grip faltered, and the weight in your left hand tilted awkwardly, throwing you off balance. “whoa!” you gasped.

but momentarily, his hands were on your waist, steadying you with ease. “easy there, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice filled with affection. he smirked as he held you, now not letting you go.

your cheeks flushed hot. “i.. wasn’t distracted” you mumbled, you avoided eye contact with him through the gym mirror.

“of course not,” he teased, hiding a grin. “It’s not like someone was staring too hard or anything.” he continues to tease. you glared and pout at him playfully, his grin finally shows. “come on, let’s try again,” he said, his tone softer now. “i got you, i promise.” he gives you a reassuring smile.

with his encouragement, you finished the set without another mishap, though your heart raced every time he leaned closer to correct your form. when you were done, he faced you to meet your eyes, his expression warm and playful.

“good job, princess” he said, before giving you a kiss on the forehead. he extends his hand out to you, offering a high five. But when you went to slap it, he grabbed your wrist and gently pulled you closer.

“you know,” he said, lowering his voice so only you could hear, “i don’t mind when you stare. In fact…” he flexed his arm dramatically, the muscle tightening under his skin. “i do it for you.”

you tried to roll your eyes, but the heat in your cheeks gave you away. “you’re so full of yourself.” you reply chuckling.

“and yet, you’re always looking,” he teased, leaning in closer.

“maybe because it’s worth looking at,” you shot back, smirking as you turned the tables. His eyes widened for a moment, caught off guard, and then his face broke into a boyish grin.

“alright, alright, you win,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. “but let me prove I’m more than just muscles. how about some ice cream? my treat.”

he slung his gym bag and yours over his shoulder, but before you could follow, he reached out and ruffled your hair. “you’re strong too, you know,” he said softly, his tone suddenly more serious. “i see the effort you put in, and it’s one of the things i love about you.”

your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean into him as the two of you left the gym together. muscles were great, but the way he supported you? that was what you loved most.

a/n: i may have written something cute but i still want to lick peanut butter off his muscles 🫣 thank you for reading! 🩷

#lads #love and freakspace #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads mc #lads x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #caleb #fluff #lads fluff

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revelboo · 8 hours ago

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I’ve commented once i believe on your account (unless I’m just forgetting I honestly have no idea or not) about Roddy and his stupid arm joints (in which I’m still mad about) but you’ve inspired me to finish sentinel prime! You’ve also inspired me more into model kits! Anyways love your stories, you have been feeding my “wanting to be cradled by giant robots” mindset. Anyways I’m not the best with the “ask me anything” ask box (letter box?) hope ur day is or has gone well!

He looks awesome! Even if he’s just awful

The comments y’all left on the last chapter are killing me 🤣

Everything Is Alright Pt 111

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• “Here,” he growls, finding a cleaning cloth and draping it over you in addition to the blanket you already were curled in. Normally he’d take some satisfaction in the fact that it scents of him and it’s going to make Starscream furious, but it’s hard to find any pleasure right now. You’re still leaking and making little hitching, sniffling sounds and he doesn’t know what to do about it. How does your idiot mate normally comfort you? Watching you huddle into the blankets, he awkwardly reaches out to pat the top of your head. “Bonds can be reestablished and full bonds can’t be severed,” he says, hinting. Because Soundwave cares for you enough to try to bond you, but you hadn’t accepted him fully. Wants to ask about that, but resists when you turn those teary eyes on him.

• Watching Megatron reach and carefully pinch a packet of food between two servos to offer you, he vents when you take it even though you have no appetite. “I just hate that they don’t talk to me. They just decide everything for me like it doesn’t matter what I want,” you mutter, shoulders hunching as he sits on the berth beside you, massive and not as intimidating as he’d first been. Maybe your self preservation instincts have given up at this point, but seeing him so uncomfortable by your tears has killed any lingering fear you’d had of him. “Like I don’t really matter.” Beyond a warm body in their berths and you hate that thought even as you have it, because it’s unfair. You know they care about you, they’re just, well-

• “They’re both idiots.” Swallowing a growl, he awkwardly reaches and cups his palm against your back when you look up at him. Starscream’s behavior doesn’t really surprise him, but he’d thought Soundwave would have been more levelheaded. He’s the calmest mech he knows, but then what does he know about bonded mechs? Using a servo to nudge your hands and the packet you’re still holding, he frowns until you obediently tear it open and pick at the food. “Eat something,” he prompts, rumbling when you take a tiny bite.

• Snarling when someone seizes him from behind and hauls him off his peds, Soundwave glares up at Bonecrusher. Struggling against those big hands as Scrapper and Hook haul up Starscream. The other three Constructicons clearly annoyed and ready to help. Servos shaking he’s so furious, he glares at the bleeding Seeker. Can taste energon where he’d bitten himself at some point, every ache and pain making itself known without the blind rage keeping him going. Optics narrowing behind his visor when the Seeker struggles free. “Stop wrecking scrap we’ll have to fix,” Scrapper growls, sweeping a hand at the damage they’d done. “Take it outside.”

• One of his wings is hanging at an angle, burning like fire as he scowls at Soundwave. Had never seen the stoic mech so angry before. “Keep your servos off my mate,” he snarls, aware of the optics on him. That he just publicly admitted what you are to him, laying claim to you. Because you are his, you’re everything to him. Striding past Soundwave, or trying to, as the communications officer shoves him back against the wall.

• “My mate,” Soundwave growls, leaning into the Seeker’s face before shoving away when the Constructicons move as if to separate them again. Striding toward Starscream’s quarters and finding you missing. “Where?” He snarls, rounding on the nearest bystander. Long Haul shrugging at him before Vortex gleefully calls out ‘Megatron took your human.’ Venting, he heads for Megatron’s habsuite, aware of Starscream limping after him.

• Cringing deeper into your blankets when someone knocks on Megatron’s door, you turn wide eyes his way. Because you’re not at all ready to deal with an angry Soundwave or Starscream’s betrayal. Head tipping as he stares down at you, his smile is absolutely wicked and shockingly real. “I could send them away for a bit,” he says and it’s almost enough to make you start crying all over again. Feeling bad even as you whisper a tiny ‘please.’ Needing time to think, to untangle all the hurt and confusion.

#transformers x reader #starscream x reader #megatron x reader #soundwave x reader #soundwave #megatron #starscream

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rose24207 · 10 hours ago

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Anything with jealous landoo where he's like "your mine" and make it mafia!lando

I know I’m yours

Summary: Lando's jealousy boils over at a gala when a stranger gets too close to you, prompting him to assertively remind you—and everyone else—that you’re his.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, jealous, possessive

TW: None!

A/N: so sorry it took so long but here you go!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The dimly lit room was alive with the low hum of conversation, glasses clinking as people mingled in the extravagant gala. It was a rare public appearance for Lando, the infamous leader of the mafia that controlled more than most could ever imagine. Tonight, however, wasn’t about business.

It was about you.

You stood near the bar, laughter spilling from your lips as you chatted with a man Lando didn’t recognize. He watched from across the room, his jaw tightening as the stranger leaned closer, his hand brushing your arm.

The smile on your face made Lando’s blood boil—not because he didn’t want you to be happy, but because someone else was making you laugh when that was his job.

He had been patient all night, keeping his jealousy in check as people approached you. But now, his control was fraying. The man’s lingering touch and the way his gaze swept over you like he had any right to look at you that way—it was too much.

Lando straightened his suit jacket, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders as he stalked toward you. His movements were smooth but purposeful, the kind of walk that made people part like the Red Sea.

By the time he reached you, the smile on your face faltered at the intensity in his stormy blue eyes.

“Lando,” you greeted, but your voice was softer now, like you already knew you were in trouble.

His arm slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he fixed the man with a cold, sharp glare. “I don’t think we’ve met,” Lando said, his tone polite but laced with danger.

The man stammered out his name, but Lando didn’t care. His focus was solely on you now. Tilting your chin up with his fingers, he studied your face as if searching for reassurance. “You’ve been having fun without me, love?” he murmured, but there was a possessive edge to his words.

“I was just talking,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Talking,” Lando repeated, his lips twitching into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

The man had the sense to excuse himself, mumbling something about getting another drink. Lando didn’t even spare him a glance as he walked away.

His attention was entirely on you.

“Do you enjoy testing my patience, darling?” he asked, his voice dropping lower.

You shook your head quickly, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze. “It wasn’t like that, Lando. I swear.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Because you’re mine. And I don’t like sharing.”

The possessiveness in his tone made your heart race, but there was a tenderness in the way his hand slid up your back, grounding you.

“Do I need to remind you of that?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I know I’m yours.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s my girl.”

Lando kept you close for the rest of the night, his arm firmly around your waist. And every time he caught someone looking at you for too long, he’d send them a glare that left no room for interpretation.

You belonged to him, and he wasn’t afraid to show the world.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando x you #fluff #f1 #angst #formula one #mafia!lando #f1 mafia au #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #jealousy #possesive love #possessive

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oonajaeadira · 20 hours ago

Text

Patricio Keeps a Journal, Pt. 1: Winter

Good. Things. Take. Time. is a series that grew out of prompts–the whisper of a character, the asks of readers. And now, to get myself back into PATS’s head, the prompts are coming from @fanfticionoverload’s Seasons of Life challenge.

What you’re about to read are some excerpts from Patricio’s journal. Heads up they probably won't make much sense if you haven't read the ongoing series.

Each excerpt is just that–snippets that pertain to the story, taken from his presumed wider journal, each notated where it lands in the series and follows the chronology of the series.

The rules of the challenge ask for 250 words per prompt. I thought it would be a little less forced if I didn’t worry so much about that, so some may fall short of that number. And I’ll say that these aren’t heavily edited nor are they anything other than basic reactions, precisely because I wanted them to feel like the unfiltered thoughts one writes in a journal.

Let’s say that it was Shell’s orders for him to keep a journal in the first place. If his practice is his way of dealing with his demons, if he’s not going to go to traditional therapy, then “the least you can do is just offload before bed, and not the kind of offloading you do with your dick. I’m not gonna read it, but I’ll want to see words on those pages. Write a fucking play for all I care, write a manifesto about your love of pasta, I don’t give a shit what. Just write.”

I don’t have anything to write. I’m not a fucking poet. Shell says use the pen, get the words out of your head, just write anything. Anything. Anything. Tables have turned. Now I’m the one practicing letting it all out. Trying not to think too hard. Anything.

EXCERPT 1: SNOW

TIMELINE: a few days before Good. Things. Take. Time.

…

#39 gifted me four tickets to the game at her last session. It’s Neils’ birthday. I’ll surprise him and Dan with a guy’s night out.

Got a new client coming in on Thursday. #48. I wasn’t going to approve her. Nothing in her application hints at any lingering trauma that she can’t just get treated at a legit clinic. But Shell was pushy about this one. She's got a knack for these things and hasn’t been wrong yet. Official referral diagnosis: pain is psychological tension from a recent(?) divorce. I guess it’s worth a shot. If nothing else, divorcees are usually just in need of a good fuck so it’s an easy fix. Good photo. I like her style. She’s going to make pretty faces.

Thinking about taking some time off after that. Rare confluence of three clients ending their run at the same time, it’s slow season at the office and the guys can handle a week without me, I should get out of town. Someplace quiet. Or fuck, I don’t know, someplace distracting where I can get out of my head. Maybe I should book a massage. Look at me, I’m hilarious. Who massages the masseuse? I’ll have Shell find me something. Keep it interesting. Place yer bets: seedy and cheap or golden toilets and happy endings? As long as it’s somewhere warm.

Renee posted the pictures from her honeymoon. Skiing in the Alps. She always used to hate the snow. Guess people change. Change can be a good thing.

She’s better off.

___

EXCERPT 2: SCARF

TIMELINE: The night of Good. Things. Take. Time.

…

Shell hit the jackpot on this one. Perfect plaything. She’s like I custom ordered a client. Recurring cluster knots all down her starboard teres major, needs a hand getting in under the port shoulder blade…can’t do it alone. Needs my hands. She needs me. Follows directions, trusts completely. Has a good imagination. That will open up more in time. I expect a challenge out of this one. Surprised the shit out of me with the beautiful thing though. Maybe shouldn’t have let her have that. Maybe shouldn’t have gone down on her. It’s fine. She’s clean. Tastes good smells good ass for days. I can get a good handful. Everywhere.

And perfect inside. Tight but not too tight, good control with the right assistance, takes direction like a dream. I’ll be able to get her to sing if she keeps listening. Mierda, her skin. My hands want to eat it. Oil it up and map it out and scarf it down. Her muscle structure is -just- amazing. I haven’t been this amped in months. This one hits the spot.

Giving her Thursday across the board might have come off too eager. Well, if that didn’t, offering up extra days on call probably did. Jackass.

Not gonna worry about that tonight. Bowling with the guys tomorrow night. Hope they’re ready to eat their damn balls. I’m fucking invincible.

She called me beautiful. She’s [sentence scratched out]

Forgot to note in her file–she said she hasn’t had anyone make her come in over a year even though info says she’s only been divorced a few months. What kind of an asshole just walks away from that her? How could anyone share a bed or a house or anything with that and resist for a year? She deserves to get fucked every day. Why wouldn’t you want someone that just falls into you so willingly and fucks so pretty? Great. Now I’m angry. Not my concern. Just my gain.

___

EXCERPT 3: COZY

TIMELINE: weekend evening, after installment #2, relieving period cramps

…

Keep thinking about Thursday. It’s not about the blood. It is and it isn’t. It’s obviously that she needed relief. It’s good to see her trusting. That can be tricky for some women. Beaten into them that they have to hide what their body does. It’s a body. It’s a unique mechanism. It has shit and blood and needs a good release now and then. Or every day for some people...another truth for some of us that the world wants hidden away.

The blood’s messy. It’s primal. It’s brutal and nobody blinks an eye if it comes from a punch to the face or a slice of the thumb. But the minute it comes from the minute it shows you what a woman’s body is capable of… But it’s also the harshness of the color, a signal that if there’s pain then it’s real. It’s a helpful focus.

She just LETS me. There's beauty in that pliability. She trusts, she follows, she heals. The way her face just relaxes when the knots are gone. It’s almost as good as the orgasm itself. Beautiful.

Got her all warmed up in the bath, all cozy in bed. Fell asleep like a worn-out kitten and I had an urge to kiss her forehead. Poor thing just needed it today. Successful session.

___

EXCERPT 4: FIREPLACE

TIMELINE: a couple of weeks later, evening, after installment #3, the treatment for migraine and anxiety AND includes this six sentence ficlet

…

Well shit. There’s a coincidence. She wouldn’t believe me if I told her.

Thursday came in tonight tight as a screw, migraine a good 7 or 8. I had to take it slow. Asked her to focus on some bright spots in her life, like her favorite things. I might have guessed the animals and reading, but the fanfiction was a surprise. Cute. It was best not to talk about what was causing the stress because

Her family coming to stay.

Fuck if I don’t sympathize.

Mama got here two days ago and all she can do is complain about her hotel and American food and how everyone speaks too fast for her to keep up. It’s cold here. The hotel should have a fireplace. Why don’t you take time off Patricio? You have an extra bedroom, why can’t your mama sleep there?

I love her. But I get it. There are just some boundaries that are hard. I get you, Thursday.

Preciosa.

Fucked her five ways til Sunday. She fucked ME five ways till Sunday.. She drew blood. Didn’t even care. Mark me up, girl. Glad I could help, but damn that might have been more mutually beneficial than I’d originally planned.

___

EXCERPT 5: HOT CHOCOLATE

TIMELINE: night of installment #4, with the undergarment ripping and the thigh-highs

…

I didn’t expect to get to play this much. I’m usually so focused on the pain and making sure the client can come in their condition that there’s not a lot of room for fun and surprises. I got to take Shell out last weekend and might have bought her too many beers and pull-tabs. It took her about three bottles to get profound. She wants to know who "therapies the therapist" and told me I should remember that it’s okay to put my own priorities first sometime. She said that people in the industry of care need to be taken care of too. She said it’s okay to have a client that gives as good as she gets. Then she went home and threw up and texted me the next day that she’s drinking nothing but hot chocolate from now on. Haha

Shit. Thursday feels good when she walks out of here. She looks like a million bucks. I did that. I DO that. THAT’s what I need. So yeah. Why shouldn’t I enjoy that? Cute tonight. She wanted me to rip her panties. All she had to do was ask, but I think she was embarrassed to?

So the new diagnosis is lack of confidence and the treatment is for her to speak up for what she wants. We’re going to get her to a place where she can ask–or demand what she needs. We’ll work on her trusting that I’ll give her anything she wants–anything.

She’ll be able to walk out of here and conquer the world when I’m done with her.

___

EXCERPT 6: FREEZING

TIMELINE: a couple of weeks after the previous entry

...

[….] and Niels can go to hell though because I don’t care how low key it is or how good the whiskey is, I’m not giving up my Thursdays to fill in the hole in his poker night. His basement is freezing and I have warmer places to be.

Although speaking of, Thursday canceled again. It’s been a couple of weeks. Crunch time at work for her I guess. Her portal messages seem pretty stressed. She’s apologetic about missing sessions. I can tell her she doesn’t need to apologize, I’m getting paid whether she shows or not. And honestly, it just means we’re going to have to work that much harder to get her malleable again and I can hardly complain about that. A build up’s a hell of a thing. As long as she doesn’t mess up her rhombs again. We were just making headway on that. I should ask her about her desk chair.

But I’d be lying if I said that I gave a shit about the pay. I’m allowed to enjoy my clients and be disappointed when I don’t get to see them.

At least Jean’s back on Friday. It will be nice to see her again. Now that her latest surgery’s all healed up, we can find her some good positions for her to take home. I know her partner’s skittish about the discovery phase. But she’s almost done and when the reconstruction’s over, he’ll thank me for it. He SHOULD thank me for it, she’s got a good laugh and good tits.

Jean’s a perfect example of learning to speak up for herself. I can do the same for Preciosa. Lucky for her she doesn’t have Jean’s level of pain to work through. But she’s gotta show. up. for. it. Come on, girl. I got you.

___

EXCERPT 7: MARSHMALLOW

TIMELINE: directly after installment #5, all pent up and feral

…

Now THAT. Was a successful fuck. We’re making headway here. Little slapping, little biting, she got a good few hair yanks in there. She’s learning that not only am I not a marshmallow…neither is she. Good girl. Pretty high praise response, but she’s also got a little fight in her. She’s a switch and doesn’t even know it. She will.

There were some real emotions tonight, real anger, real tears. But when she let go I nearly wept myself. It was beautiful. She’s working too hard and she knows it. But she also knows I’ve got her when she does. Hopefully that will preempt some of the stress next time. Not even upset about that shoulder blade. We’ll just start from the beginning on that.

[....]

Just reminded me of Renee nagging about working too hard. I just remembered that I had a dream about her a few nights ago. Not really about her. She was in the background somewhere and not even angry that I didn’t stop to say hello. Then she picked up her purse and left. The light kind of shifted like, I don’t know. Felt like it was the last time I’d see her. Not in a bad way.

It’s good. Like a door really closing.

Maybe I do work too hard. But I like it. It’s who I am. It’s my choice.

____

PATS in winter by @d4rm4nd4

SERIES MASTERLIST

#good things take time #pedro across the street #calls fanfiction

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jenosonlywife23 · 23 hours ago

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Love Me Right

Yeah, This imagine is inspired by love me right by EXO(also my fav exo song) and my love for Jeno (‾◡◝).

The late summer breeze carries the scent of blooming jasmine as you stroll through the quiet streets with Jeno. It’s one of those nights where the world seems to slow down, giving you a moment to savor every stolen glance, every fleeting smile. The stars scattered across the sky feel closer than ever, as if they’re watching over you both, lighting the path ahead.

Jeno walks beside you, his hand brushing against yours with every step. He doesn’t say much, but the way his eyes occasionally dart toward you speaks volumes. There’s a sense of anticipation in the air, like something unspoken is about to surface.

“Do you ever think about how perfect moments like this are?” Jeno asks suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

You turn to look at him, your heart skipping a beat at the way the moonlight illuminates his features. “I think they’re perfect because they don’t last forever. It makes you want to hold onto them more.”

Jeno stops walking, gently grabbing your wrist to halt you too. His touch is warm, grounding. “Then let’s make this last,” he says softly, his gaze piercing through you. “Let’s make it perfect.”

Your cheeks burn at the intensity of his words, but before you can respond, he laces his fingers with yours. The gesture is simple, yet it sends a wave of butterflies crashing into you.

“What are you doing?” you ask, though your voice betrays how little you mind.

He grins, that boyish charm of his shining through. “I want tonight to be ours. Just you and me, no distractions, no holding back. I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

You bite your lip to hide your smile, but Jeno notices anyway. His free hand reaches up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, his tone laced with a tenderness that makes your heart melt.

The two of you continue walking, eventually finding yourselves at a small park on the edge of town. Jeno leads you to a clearing where the stars seem brighter, painting the sky in a masterpiece of light. He lets go of your hand momentarily to spread out his jacket on the grass, motioning for you to sit.

“I didn’t know you were so romantic,” you tease as you sit down.

Jeno chuckles, sitting beside you and leaning back on his elbows. “I have my moments.”

For a while, you simply lie there, gazing up at the stars. It’s peaceful, but there’s an unspoken tension in the air—an electric charge that neither of you can ignore.

“Do you know why I wanted tonight to be special?” Jeno asks finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turn your head to look at him, his face inches from yours. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been waiting for the right moment to tell you how I feel,” he confesses, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. “I don’t just like you. I’m crazy about you. You make everything brighter, and I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

His words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless. You’d always felt something for Jeno, but hearing him say it out loud makes it all so real.

“I—” You hesitate, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. But Jeno’s hand finds yours again, his grip reassuring.

“Don’t overthink it,” he says gently. “Just tell me how you feel. No pressure, no expectations. I just want you to be honest.”

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. “I feel the same way, Jeno. I think I’ve been falling for you for a while now.”

A smile breaks out on his face, so genuine and radiant that it makes your chest tighten. Without another word, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s soft yet filled with all the unspoken emotions between you.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and he whispers, “Then love me right. Let’s make this the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”

You smile, your fingers tracing circles on the back of his hand. “Only if you promise to do the same.”

Jeno grins, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and sincerity. “Deal.”

And under the vast expanse of the starry sky, you both know this is the start of something extraordinary. A love that’s bright, full, and perfect in its imperfection.

#jeno #lee jeno #jeno x reader #nct jeno #nct dream #nct #nct drabbles #nct imagines #jenosonlywife23

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shy-canadian-snowflake · 2 days ago

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Wade VS Meds.

“So I haven’t been taking my meds.” Was how Wade started that morning's conversation around the kitchen table.

“Oh for fucks sakes.” Al started, dropping her spoon in her cereal.

“What the hell are you thinking?” Logan continued, using his own spoon to point at Wade. “I’m thinking,” Wade said, taking a mouthful of soggy sugary goodness and continued to talk. “That I want to fucking feel something that isn’t a gray nothingness. I want to feel emotions and not be nothing.”

“What you are going to feel is fucking fear.” Logan hissed sitting back in his seat, before turning to Al. “Do you fucking hear this? He wants to feel something, news fucking flash Wade, you are going to be fucking terrified.”

“It’s better than feeling nothing.” He countered.

“No it isn't.” Al spoke up. “And you know it. You’ll be a damn mess wanting death if you don’t take those meds. You need them for a reason, so take the damn pills.”

“Too fucking bad. You can’t see them, so you can’t make me.” Wade crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at the blind woman.

“But I can.” Logan got up, not bothering to push in his chair as he left the table to make his way into the living room. He rifled through some garbage that was on the end table that Wade kept most of his things. A random knife, dirty coffee mug, stray bullets, a voltron action figure, little baggies that he knew had baby powder and not cocaine- Wade was being ripped off again, he could smell it- and half a dozen of other random shit.

“You’re not going to find them.” Logan looked up from his search to glare at the other, there was a slight growl in his voice as he snapped at the other. “Where the fuck are they?” Wade shrugged.

“You’ll make me take them, so I’m not telling.”

“I’m going to make you take them because I care about you, asshole, even though you don’t care about yourself.”

“I do fucking care and that’s why I’m not going to take the fucking pills.” Logan came around the couch then to stand in front of the other. He held up his hands as if he was going to touch Wade but then thought better of it.

“Wade, you need these drugs. I understand they make you feel like shit, and that fucking sucks, but please. Take the damn pills and we’ll go to the clinic today to see about getting you on different ones.” Wade shook his head no, taking a step back.

“And wait six weeks for the new ones to kick in just to feel fucking nothing again. I’d rather see legs sticking out of the walls, and weird interdimensional void cat things, and hear the British man talk about crumpets and tea than feel this nothingness.”

“I get it, feeling numb sucks-”

“It’s not numbness Logan.” Wade said loudly, stopping the other. He swallowed once before trying to talk again. “It’s nothingness. I can’t feel joy. I can’t feel anger. I can’t feel sadness. I feel nothing. The pills make me feel nothing. I need to feel something, anything, any-fucking-thing. I need to feel so I can feel human.”

“Bub…” Logan reached out for the other man, this time wrapping his hands around Wade’s arm, pulling him in for a tight hug. “You are going to feel afraid. Without these meds you are going to be so fucking scared that you won’t come out from under the covers. You are going to see the goriest shit, and fear your own damn mind. I don’t want to see you that afraid again.”

Wade laid his head on the man’s shoulder and sighed. He wrapped his own arms around Logan, giving him a light squeeze, trying to find comfort in the other’s hold. Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Not anger or sadness or joy or pain or anything. Nothing. That’s all he could feel. Nothing. “I’d rather be afraid than feel nothing Lo.” He could feel the full body sigh the other let out as he was pulled into an even tighter hug.

“We are still going to the fucking clinic.You are still going to talk to a damn doctor. And we are still getting you on new meds, got it.”

“Can we wait? A few days. Please let me feel again, then I’ll go back on my meds. I promise. I need to feel something.” He couldn’t help the slight break in his voice as he spoke. He lent harder into Logan, hoping the other could feel how much his soul needed this. He needed to be off his meds for a little while, a small amount, nothing too big. Just until he could feel again.

“Go get dressed. We are going right now.” Logan sounded tired which was like a shot in the heart to Wade. He held onto Logan tighter, pressing his face into the man’s shoulder. “I don’t want to.” A hand came up to cup the back of his neck, giving it a squeeze before letting go over and over again, as if massaging the area.

“Wade. We have to go.”

“Can I take a nap first? Let me sleep, see if I wake up feeling worse, and if I do I’ll take my meds.”

“Wade.” The hand gripping his neck slid down his back, up and down his back slowly. He wanted to cry, to scream, to feel fucking anything. Still nothing. All he felt was nothing. There was a moment where they stood there, Logan trying to comfort the other but not knowing how, and Wade being done. Done with the day, done with the moment, done. Just done.

“Let me sleep.” He said softly, if it was anyone else they may have not heard the words but Logan did. He always did. He kept rubbing Wade’s back.

“Do you think this could be a hallucination?” Logan asked, pulling back slightly to look at Wade.

“Huh?”

“This ‘nothing’ feeling. Is this maybe a delusion or a hallucination or some shit? Are you sure it’s a side effect of the drugs?” Wade shrugged.

“Maybe. I didn’t think of that.” He sighed, holding onto Logan tighter.

“Take your meds, give it another day. If you are still feeling like shit in the morning, we’ll go to the clinic and get you fixed up with something new.” Wade felt his eyes fill with tears. He wasn’t sure why he was going to cry, he didn’t need to cry. He felt nothing, so why would he cry? He chewed on the inside of his cheek and took a deep breath.

“If I take my meds can I sleep?”

“Yeah Bub, you can sleep.” A hand cupped his cheek. “I’ll stay with you and you can get some sleep.” With that Wade let go of the other and made his way to Logan’s side table. It was just as messy with his cowl, a few beer bottles, a pack of cigars, his gloves and other random shit strewn around. Wade picked up one of the gloves and reached inside. Out came a Pez dispenser. A Captain America Pez dispenser. Wade lifted the head and grabbed two of the pills that were stored in there. Grabbing a bottle that had a splash of beer left, he took the pills and drank. With that, Wade flopped onto the couch, face first. He let out a scream.

Logan wanted to say something about mixing alcohol with meds, but in that moment he didn’t give a fuck. Wade was taking his meds and that’s all that matters.

“I’m fine.” The Merc said after his screaming stopped.

“You aren’t fucking fine, but you will be. Sit up.” Wade did and Logan sat down. He patted his lap afterwards and Wade landed face first into his lap with legs thrown over the other end of the couch. Logan rubbed up and down Wade’s back as Wade tried to get some sleep.

-- It's 1 am. I want to write something better but I'm too tired. I'll do more little ficlets about Mentally Unwell Wade. Once I get ideas- If you have an idea or a scenario please let me know!

#Mentally Unwell Wade #tw psychosis #tw hallucinations #poolverine #deadpool and wolverine #wade wilson #deadclaws #logan howlett #deadpool #ficlet

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crowsofdarkness · 2 days ago

Text

Arranged: Chapter Nine

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12 & ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: If anyone who is interested wants to be tagged, let me know!

The smell of coffee was trapped in my nose as I poured two full cups before setting the pot back, a smile on my face. Thoughts of last night kept replaying in my mind and I haven’t been able to stop smiling since I woke up a bit ago.

Bucky had returned home last night sometime after midnight and let me know with a soft kiss to the forehead before retreating back into his room. When I awoke this morning, there was a note from him saying he had a meeting right away at 10 am but was free the rest of the day so we could do whatever I wanted.

The only thing I wanted to do was pick up where we left off last night before Steve interrupted.

With both mugs in hand, I quickly made my way down the long hallway towards Bucky’s office, knowing I had a few minutes before his meeting and figured he would like a warm cup of coffee to start it.

The door was open so with a soft knock, I walked in only to freeze in place at what I had seen.

There was one man who I had remembered seeing outside of the lab the other day holding open a briefcase that held 10 vials of some kind of blue liquid.

Dr. Banner, I remember Bucky and Steve calling him that.

There was another man, darker skin than the rest, and he stood behind Banner with a hand ghosting over the gun on his hip.

Steve and Bucky were standing across from the two men, them each holding a vial of the liquid. When I walked into the room, both of their eyes landed onto me. Anger filled Bucky’s eyes and he hurriedly placed the vial back into the briefcase before slamming it shut.

His jaw glanced while lips snarled in anger, eyes cutting deep into me.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” Bucky asked.

I held up the cups of coffee before setting them down on his desk. “I thought you would want some before your meeting. Clearly it started earlier than you said.”

Bucky gripped my elbow and led me into the hallway, spewing curses falling from his lips.

“Did you even bother to check the door?” He snapped.

I ripped my arm out of his grasp and placed my weight onto my left foot. “Yes, it was wide open and I even knocked before coming in.”

“Go upstairs, I’ll talk to you later.”

I sliced my eyes into him. “Are you going to tell me what I just walked into?”

Bucky grasped my wrist and began leading me towards the stairs which only made me more furious and this time, I yanked myself free while pushing him back slightly.

“Don’t you put your hands on me again!” I pointed a finger at him.

He ran a hand over his face. “Y/N, I’m not saying it again. Go upstairs. NOW!”

I jumped slightly at the sudden change in his voice but didn’t let it phase me.

“Is it drugs? Is that what this whole secrecy is because you’re selling or buying drugs?” I questioned with my arms over my chest. “Was your guy going to shoot the doctor after he gave you those vials? Got what you wanted so now you don’t need him anymore?”

“It’s none of your business,” Bucky began.

“The hell it isn't!” I snapped, my voice without a doubt being heard by the men in his office. “You brought me into this mess the second we signed the papers!”

It had only been a few days but I was already sick of the lies and secrets, I needed Bucky to tell me the truth on what he’s into. I was his wife now.

“Why did you even sign them?!” Bucky wondered, hands on his hips. “You hesitated signing them.”

“Oh my god,” I pinched my eyes shut, a sudden headache rattling my brain. “It was nothing, Bucky; nerves.”

“Bullshit! Why did you hesitate?” Bucky drilled the question again.

“Because I don’t want this!” I screamed. “I wanted to marry someone I love, someone that I can see having a family with. Someone that doesn’t hide shit from me. And someone that doesn’t fucking kill people for a living!”

Bucky’s eyes flashed with hatred at my words. “You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

I scoffed while standing on my toes. “I thought that after last night we were finally in a good place. I was starting to feel something for you. How fucking wrong I was.”

He sliced his eyes into me. “What kind of woman needs her parents to set her up in a marriage? How pathetic. I’m starting to think I should have found the first broad I found in the city and married her. At least she would give me what I want.”

My heart shattered, falling into the depths of my stomach and I could feel the corner of my eyes well up. But I refused to let him know that his words cut deep. The Bucky from last night was nowhere in sight. This one was meaner and I suddenly wanted nothing to do with this one.

“Go fuck yourself, Bucky. We might be married now but that doesnt mean I have to be seen with you,” I seethed.

With another shake of my head, I left him to go back to whatever he had been doin prior in his office; tears falling freely over my cheeks.

Silence.

That's all that was heard throughout the large home for the last couple of days, me being the only one here. After our huge fight, Bucky left for a business trip, Barb’s words. She was here the first day he left but I told her she didn’t need to stay for me and gave her the rest of the week off.

Something she was grateful for.

Steve had to go with Bucky, meaning that if I were to go out it would be on my own without any protection. Which really didn’t matter to me because I ended up being held up in my room. He had sent me a text earlier today to let me know that he would be arriving back home tonight. I didn’t even bother to reply.

There were some hurtful things hurled by the both of us and it wasn’t something I was going to sweep under the rug. I would be willing to apologize, only if he was as well.

My phone began to buzz on my table and I answered it with a groan, not bothering to check who was calling.

“Well hello to you too, dear. Rough day?”

I sat up in bed more and sighed. “Hi mom. Sorry, I was asleep.”

“Oh sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check in and see how marriage life is going?”

“Great,” I lied, not bothering to tell her about the fight. I didn’t want her to think things weren’t great.

Even if they weren’t.

“Good! Your father and I knew Bucky was the right choice for you, you two complement each other so well.”

I shook my head. “Mom, do you even know who he is?”

“He owns the laboratory in town. All the papers say he’s been finding the next cure for some kind of sickness, ya know? He’s such a good man, Y/N.”

“Look, I’m tired and don’t really feel like talking right now. Can I call you later?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, everything alright? Because if it’s not, you can talk to me.”

I scoffed. “No offense mom but the reason why I’m feeling like this is because you guys forced me to marry this complete stranger who you know nothing about! I barely know him and you and dad practically threw me into his arms. Did you even ask if he wanted this? Because he fucking doesnt!”

“Watch your language, Y.N! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that.”

I squeezed my eyes shut while pressing a hand to my forehead. “I’m really not in the mood to deal with this shit now.”

Before I could hear my mom yell some more, I hung up the phone and tossed it into the drawer of the table next to me. The last thing I wanted at this moment was to deal with her disappointment in the fact that I wasn’t giving this marriage a try.

I went back to the book that I had almost forgotten I was reading before the phone call and let the rest of the night pass with no other issues, that was until Bucky returned home. With my open door, I heard Bucky ascend the stairs, letting out a deep breath once he reached the top. I peaked over the top of my book and looked out into the hallway where Bucky stood with his hands deep into his pockets, tired eyes staring at me.

Even if I was upset with him, he still looked breathtaking in his black sweats with a matching sweater. His usual combed back hair was a mess, strands falling all into his face due to the traveling. His whole aura screamed ‘cuddle with me’ but I needed to hold my composure; I wouldn’t fold first.

My eyes returned back to my book and I heard Bucky let out another deep sigh before he disappeared into his room, the door slamming behind him.

Some time had passed and my eyelids became heavy, sleep slowly overtaking my body and I set the book down, ready to close my eyes and forget about the last week. My phone, however, began ringing non stop in the drawer next to me. I ignored it, thinking it was my mom again, but when it rang for a third time, I knew that it had to have been something more important.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, is this Mrs. Barnes?”

My heart flipped. It had been the first time I heard myself being called that.

“Uh, yeah. Who is this?”

“This is Detective Roth with the NYPD. We’re calling on behalf of your parents.”

I sat up in bed with a quick start. “Are they alright?”

“No, I’m sorry. They’re bodies were found in their homes just a few minutes ago. We believed that they were murdered.”

The detective's voice had become white noise as my brain began processing the new information.

My parents were dead?

Murdered?

In their own home?

I then remembered the phone call I had with my mom just an hour ago and I let out a strangled sob, realizing that was our last conversation. My bottom lip trembled as I let out a shaky breath before the tears began to fall, droplets falling onto the blanket and a loud sob choked its way out of my throat. Tears collected into my eyelashes and I swatted them away.

“No!” I wailed, tossing the phone across the room. “NO!”

Sobs attacked my entire body as I writhed underneath the blanket, the pain overtaking me as I continued to scream.

“Doll?”

Bucky’s voice was muffled through my sobs and he was blurred due to the tears filling my eyes.

“What’s going on?”

Bucky was in my bed in an instant, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest. I grasped at hsi shirt, tears staining it immediately. I sobbed, loudly, as I tried to tell him what happened.

He hushed my cries with a kiss to my hairline and rubbed circles on my back, hoping it would calm me.

“What happened, Y/N?” Bucky asked once more.

I looked up at him, tears falling from my swollen eyes. “My parents are dead. Someone killed them.”

Sobs broke out of me again as my body writhed in his grasp and I buried my face back into Bucky’s chest. I hadn’t noticed the large scowl that came to his face as he wrapped his arms even tighter around me.

“It’s alright, doll. I’m here.” Bucky cooed into my ear.

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan

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