#'when you turn i will be always there.' how goddamn romantic is that then.
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Romantic Shit: Ryan x Reader (Yellowstone)
Tagging: @hatersaremymotivators justsimplyme93 knick3rbock3r
anticxrrupt
Prequel to Summer (NSFW)
Every morning that Ryan wakes up with you is a gift. He’s thought that ever since you decided to take this cowboy to bed. This morning though, this morning is bitter sweet because he’s leaving in a couple of days for Texas and the two of you still haven’t discussed what that means for the relationship.
When he finds you, you’re standing on the porch of your house, watching the sunrise in the distance, a mug of coffee clasped to your chest. You’re clad in nothing but his plaid shirt and cowboy boots. The tattoo of his name stands stark against your upper thigh, a symbol of your love for him, your commitment.
This thing between the two of you was never meant to have a future.
In the beginning he didn’t see how it could work, you were a deputy in the sheriff’s department and he was a land enforcement agent/cowboy who did some goddamn shady shit. The secrets you kept from one another should have strangled the life out of this thing but instead it had flourished, because there has always been a mutual understanding. He’s got shit he can’t tell you and you’ve got shit you can’t tell him.
“We should talk about it.” He says quietly as he comes to lean against the wooden strut that supports the gable.
You set your coffee cup down on the railing before you turn your attention towards him. His jeans are slung low on his hips, the orange light from the sunrise plays over his bare chest, highlighting the brand that’s seared into his skin.
“I guess I just wasn’t ready for this to end just yet.” You say as you lean against the pillar opposite him.
Ryan wants to tell you it doesn’t have to, that he’ll be true to you out there in Texas but he can’t ask you to wait a year for him, no matter how much he may want it. His fingertips trace over your name, the italic scrawl inked into his inner forearm.
Katalina…
The love of his life.
The woman whose about to become Sheriff of this county.
You can’t go with him and he can’t stay…
“I love you.” He says quietly as he looks out across the landscape. “I will always love you, the distance doesn’t change that.”
“I know.” You say softly as you come to stand beside him. “I keep asking myself what’s one year in the space of a lifetime?”
“And what’s the answer?” He asks you, the back of his hand brushing lightly against yours.
Your fingers capture his, entwining them and for the first time since this conversation started he allows himself to hope.
“Marry you.” You say, squeezing his hand a little. “So you’ll know you’ll always be mine, wherever you go.”
If that isn’t the most romantic shit he doesn’t know what is.
“Are you asking me that honey?” He murmurs, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he backs you up against the strut. He can feel the heat of your body through the shirt, he wants to unbutton it, take it off, fuck you right here on the porch. “Are you asking me to marry you before I head off to Texas?”
Your fingers lace at the base of his neck, fingertips brushing over the light curls. His hair has gotten a little long this season. He’s been meaning to cut it but he likes the way your fingers feel when you tug it just right.
“I guess I am cowboy.” You whisper against his lips. “So is that a yes or a no?”
Love Ryan? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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✮ so you do like me - gojo satoru
synopsis: you and gojo confess in an unexpected situation.
warnings: fluff, chaotic reader and gojo, gn!reader, gojo is tiny bit oblivious — wc: 746
notes: i love oblivious gojo i think hes so stupid (affectionate)
gojo satoru is annoying.
you’re saying this as his best friend who’s been with him for years, and even though you’ve been friends for that long, he’s never failed to annoy the shit out of you. there’s never a day where he doesn’t bother you about the stupidest stuff ever — you remember getting a call from him at three in the morning asking if you had any spare hand soap at your place (you got mad at him for a day for that).
hearing satoru sigh for the tenth time today, you turned to look at him. “what is it? why are you so… gloomy today?”
“nothing,” he repeats the same answer he gave you two minutes ago which makes you sigh as well, giving up on asking any more questions. when he sees your uninterested eyes, he sits up straight. “okay, well, i have this problem and you’re my closest friend but-” satoru groans, leaning back against the chair and placing a hand over his face.
that piqued your interest. “but?”
“it’s hard.” satoru shakes his head in distress. “it’s so annoying i can’t talk about it.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “what do you mean you can’t talk about it? you can always talk about anything with me.”
“no, see! that’s the problem here.” satoru stands up and walks towards you. “do you know how goddamn hard it is having a crush on someone and not being able to talk about it with the only person you want to talk to it about because it’s about them?” he exclaims, frustrated at himself.
you paused. “yes, i do. i absolutely do and it’s horrible. trust me, satoru, i know.”
“how do you know? i’ve never seen you look at anyone with hearts in your eyes.” satoru narrows his eyes. “i’ve never even heard you talk about crushes ever since we became friends!”
“you’re so dense.” you sighed, finally mustering up the courage to say it. “it’s you, dumbass. i’ve had a crush on you like two weeks after we became friends. i’ve never talked about crushes with you because it’s you i have a crush on. how am i supposed to talk about being in love with you to you?”
“huh?” satoru freezes in his place, brain malfunctioning with the information you just gave him. “wait- huh?”
“take all the time you need, toru.” you crossed your arms, patiently waiting for satoru to say something coherent.
“WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SOMETHING TO ME?” satoru bursts, arms flailing around. “we- why didn’t you say anything about having a crush on me? wasn’t i obvious with my feelings for you?! i thought you would’ve known about what i felt when i-”
“when you what?”
“when i gave you my last piece of chicken nugget!” he exclaims.
you paused. “seriously? you giving me your last chicken nugget is a sign of love?”
“have you never read or watched anything romantic? people would usually give up their last piece of their favorite food to their lover!” satoru asks, and you shake your head making satoru gasp. “you’re so uncultured.”
“um? i meant that i had never seen anyone do that. ever.” you replied. “you’re the one who’s watching weird “romance” movies!”
“don’t you dare call my romance movies weird! you just have to watch it with me and you’ll be in love immediately.” satoru huffs, walking closer to you so that you can smell his cologne. “so? what do we do now?”
“are you just going to stand in front of me and not ask me out on a date?” you asked, and satoru laughed, pulling you into a tight hug.
“so,” satoru says as soon as he removes his arms form you. “you had a crush on me, hm?”
you scoff. “as if you didn’t.”
“it is because i’m absolutely irresistible?” satoru gives you a smug smile.
“as if.” you reply. “no, it’s because you’re an idiot, and-” you paused, taking in a deep breath, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “and i can’t imagine life without you.”
“oh my god.” satoru gasps. “you’re such a romantic! aw, y/n!” he embraces you once more, but this time, you tripped and ended up falling on the bed, his figure crushing you.
“satoru-” you wheeze, slapping his back. “can’t breathe. let. go.”
“no way. i’ve been wanting to do this for so long.” satoru smiles down at you. “i love you.”
your ears turn red and you immediately look away. “...i love you too.”
taglist: @planetnini @xintre @kyoghurts (send an ask to be added!) <3
#kylin.writes#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen gojo#jjk#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk gojo
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Eren Jaeger x reader (drabble)
‘Did it hurt?”
you turn to meet his eyes, confused by his question. “What? it felt goo-“
“When you fell from heaven.” he laughs at his own joke. “God, Eren you’re so tacky.” you say, pushing his body from yours. “Girls love it.”
There’s the reminder you needed. “right. So I’m heading out.” His whole body turns, “where are you going?” raising an eyebrow, trying to pull you back into bed. “I have plans.” you turn from his grip and start looking for your underwear.
He stands up and and puts his jeans on, “with who?” his tone makes you falter a bit. He’s never cared about more than how far you’d let him go in bed. At least he’s never given any clear indication.
You hesitate putting your clothes on for a second before answering. “Just meeting a friend”
“And who’s this ‘friend’?” He’s standing right behind you now which makes you jump. “Jesus, Eren. you can’t creep up behind me like that.” He stands unaffected, waiting for your reply.
“Just helping a guy from my class with our chem exam.” He laughs without any indication of humor. “You’re kidding, right?”
You feel the tension rising and do your best to avoid it, like you always do. “I’m tutoring, dude. Let it go.”
“I just fucked you senseless into my madress and you’re about to meet another guy?” he doesn’t even know why he’s raising his voice. He’s not mad at you, he’s mad at himself for not having the guts to claim you as his.
Some people would call Eren arrogant, greedy, well, he kinda has the right to be. As the captain of the hockey team, he’s used to getting that he wants. that, and his looks. Flashing what he’s been told is a ‘very charming smile’ usually has him set for anything he wants.
Thing is, he wants you, and he thought he made it clear. I mean, are that blind to his advances? Other guys should know you’re off the market. He’s kinda made sure everyone knows. Except you apparently
The moment he raised his voice, regret filled his heart upon seeing your face. He feels he can’t stop messing up but the though of you meeting another man at when you’re giving of indications of being mad at him, is scary.
“Are you jealous?” You inquire, wanting to understand him. “I’m not jealous! It’s just..you’re mine.” even he looks confused as he says it.
You scoff at this, “you’re not my boyfriend, you have no right.” Maybe he doesn’t like the reminder.
He blocks the door with his body as you’re trying to exit. Frustrated, you sigh. “What are you doing? move.” you say, taking a step forward. “No.” he sternly says and means it. You bring your hand to slap him but he grabs it.
“We’re just fucking, right? so let me go, Eren. Let me go!” You struggle but his athlete body has no issue keeping up against you. “Don’t say that. you’re more than that to me.” At this, you stop fighting against him, looking anywhere but his face.
“I’m sorry.” You’re taken aback when he slumps his head on your shoulder. “I shouldn’t have mentioned other girls. It was a bad joke.” You feel heat rising in your face. “What are you talking ab-
“Stop. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” he exhales.
“I don’t unde-“
“you know I like you.” he interrupts, looking exhausted. You feel a lump in your throat and hate yourself for it. “How Eren? you never show me.” your voice breaks as you say it.
“I never show you? he almost laughs. “We spend every living moment together, I chase after you like a goddamn dog, god [name] how could you not see how infatuated I am with you?” he’s breathing heavily now.
Maybe you have been ignoring his advances. Maybe actions speak louder than words, or maybe, this is exactly what you’ve been waiting for.
“Mentioning other girls did upset me.” you decide to admit. This is your way of showing him you like him too, and he understands it perfectly.
“Yeah?” he smiles and you return the favor. “Yeah.”
“Want me to tell you how I jerk off to you and only you? Cuz I can get pretty romantic you know.” he pretends to be serious. Breaking out in laughter, “You can’t let a good moment pass, can you Eren?”
“Huh? wait, I can go into detail, I usually imagine you on to-“ you slap your hand over hush mouth. “Hush.”
He feels relief that you’re not upset anymore. Draping his hand over your shoulder, dragging you back in to his room. “You know, you look pretty hot when you’re angry.”
You deadpan, letting him go on. Eren explains everything so passionately, it takes a while getting used to. “I’m being for real. It’s hot when you talk back to me. Every time I look at you, you somehow turn even more beautiful.” he says in all seriousness, making you turn your face away from his in embarrassment.
he threads his fingers through yours, “don’t look away.” he murmurs, breathing you in through your neck, using his free hand to push your hips closer to his.
“I like it when you say stuff like that.” you confess, making him smile in your neck, scattering soft kisses up your jawline. “Then I’ll keep saying them.” He pulls back and thinks all the ways you make him fall into pieces, of the unsaid words he’ll make sure to tell you.
You carefully lift up your tangled hands and leave kisses up his wrist, taking initiative giving him the eyes. He lifts his face and locks eyes with you, message received.
Grabbing your jaw, he whispers, “wanna get fucked?” and you nod, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
Playlist
He runs his hand down his chest and twirls his finger in the air, “turn around for me, gorgeous.” You comply and make sure to graze your ass against his zipper, his eyes follow the movement and the air suddenly feel thicker.
“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?” sweeping your hair away from your back. He makes sure to take a mental photo when you turn your face back and smirk. You’re going to be the end of him.
“Strip.”
And so you do while his fingers trail from your neck down your lower back, until it’s playing in between your legs, “Jesus christ, this pussy.” His boner is prominent against you back as firmly holds you against him by your hipbone.
Wasting no time, he stops himself from making you come on his fingers and leaves a trail of wetness on your skin as his hands move away.
“You’re so wet, [name]. Do you like it when I touch you?” he’s being condescending. You hear his clothes hit the floor and excitement rushes through you. “I like it.” you exclame.
Taking a fistful of your hair, he brings his face into yours, capturing your lips with a promise. “Gonna fuck you so hard, baby.”
He pushes you onto the mattress and positions himself on top, locking his fingers into your hips. His touch is so rough, branding you as his. A slow grind of him entering you leaves you breathless, the stabbing pain of his size lasting for only a second before the rhythmical plunging of his cock turn into pleasure.
You lie weightless as his skin slaps against you, spreading warmth from inside out. He grabs onto the headboard and pushes even deeper, increasing the tension of pleasure with every stroke. It’s too much, you could swear he’s in your belly. Releasing a shriek, you squirm away, overwhelmed by pleasure. He grabs your chin abruptly, “you’re gonna take it.”
Running your hand down your belly, you stop to show him. “can feel you.” you breathe. His eyes follow your movement and the moments he realizes what you mean, he lets out the sluttiest grown and pummels into you with everything he has.
“fuck, fucking love fucking you.”
Throaty moans leave your mouth as he claims every inch of your body. He lifts your legs higher and leaves kisses along your foot. “Tell me who you belong to.” staring deep into your eyes, leaving you no place to hide.
“Y-you.” you hiccup as the force of his hips rutting into yours, moves your entire body. He holds you down, massaging your skin with rough hands. A pleased hum leaves his throat, “Yeah, and I don’t like sharing.”He’s so arrogant.
“Harder.” you plead, pushing your hands against his steel back muscles. A whistle leaves him and his face explodes into a grin, “a real freak aren’t you?”
You give him a lustful smile and he immediately obliges your demand and rocks his hips into yours even harder, skin to skin. Keeping his eyes on you to make sure you’re okay.
The way your eyes roll to the back of head head as you start touching yourself is indication enough for him. Each touch of his pelvic increases the friction against your clit . Your pussy is tightening up, spasming around his jock. And you feel his cock jerk inside you.
No words are needed, you both know each others bodies inside out. You come first and he gathers you in his arms as you scream and writhe beneath him, “shh, baby. It’s okay. so proud of you.” he whispers all tenderly, running his palms up and down your sides as you continue to pump his cock, making him release.
His head rears back as his cock jerks inside of you, spurting his cum into the latex barrier in between you. The high of coming together is like nothing else, his fist in your scalp and your hands scratching every inch of him you can reach.
As you both calm down, your rough markings on his abdomen turn into soothing touches while he inspect every inch of his handprints on your body. You’re a match to his flame, and he has no intention of letting you go.
“Staying the night?” he asks intentionally, this feels like a deciding moment between you two. “mhm,” you hum, “but just because your shirts are comfortable to sleep in.” you say, slyly.
Yeah right. “Had no intention of letting you leave anyway” he admits and gets up, throwing away the condom and begins picking out a shirt for you to wear. It already feels empty without him inside you.
“Hey, did you really have someone to tutor?” he asks, snapping you away from your thoughts.
“Yeah, why?” you answer thoughtlessly, making Eren snicker, “well you should probably let him know you’re not coming by now,” he reminds you.
“Oh shit.” you jump towards your phone and he just laughs, smacking your ass.
“best ass in the world.”
#I honestly have no idea what this is but enjoy!💕#it’s just a drabble guys#💋#this is very standard of me but I haven’t read through it..pardon any mistakes#night#eren smut#attack on titan eren#eren#eren jeager x reader#eren aot#eren fanfiction#eren jaeger#just in the clouds for eren#eren x reader#eren yeager x reader#my works#eren fics#anime smut#reader x character
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Jake Kim x Reader: Cinema
G/N. Soft and fluffy feat Big Deal a lil.
"You on a date, boss?"
Jake says yes without missing a beat, flashing you a grin and snaking his arm around your waist.
He sees the smirk on Jason's face, the light nudge Lineman gives Brad, and the pride and approval on Jerry's face.
The grin soon melts away though, when Brad follows up with "You going to see Rocky XX too?" and Jake only just manages to hide his grimace.
The answer to that is also yes. But he would prefer to not have a date crashed by the rest of the crew.
Heavens above, you're patient enough with Big Deal and so sweet to everyone. Gotten to know the street and the occupants like the back of your hand, spending more evenings and weekends there than not.
However. Even with how much Jake lives and breathes Big Deal, he misses some one on one time with you.
Away from everyone, he thinks as he takes in the sight of his boys in front of him. He can't exactly tell them to go away though, can he? A rare weekend off work where they get to just be.
He succumbs to his fate.
Imagines everyone huddled on the one row together. Seated next to each other. Cosy. A family affair instead of a romantic date. Probably won't be able to sneak you some kisses here and there-
"We're not seeing Rocky!" comes the unmistakable sound of Lua's voice. "We're going to watch The Boy and The Pigeon! Enjoy your film!"
She disappears as quickly as she arrives. A whirlwind of hair and a force of nature. Giving you both a small wave, mind laser focused on reading the goddamn room and shoving the boys towards a different screen.
"B-but we already got the tickets!"
"I wanted to see Rocky XX!"
"Why does Jake think seeing Rocky is romantic anyway?!"
Why?
To be honest, the Rocky franchise died off somewhere along V. Who knows how the hell these films are still being greenlit. Nevertheless, the newest one is a low stakes film where Jake doesn't care what happens apart from you cuddling up to him and some kisses if he's lucky.
It's calculated and planned and Jake mentally pats himself on the back for how things have turned out.
Except-
What he didn't expect was the score to be good, the script to be great, the choreography to be amazing, and the acting to be even better. Neither of you could take your eyes off the screen. You laughed and cried and gasped together.
Thoughts of cuddling and kissing and even making out completely out the window as you're both on the edge of your seat for the entire two hours.
It was fantastic. Perhaps the best movie he has ever seen (and he could practice some of those moves too).
You're both still talking about it as he walks you home-
"When he came back as a zombie to fight that vampire?"
"And the lizard joins the fight to win the title?" Jake chuckles, at your enthusiasm more than anything else, "Yeah. I liked that."
But as your apartment appears on the horizon, he can't help but think that maybe this was a bit of a waste. That the day is over and as good as the film was, maybe he should have arranged something else, after all it’s been a while since both your schedules have aligned. A date where you can actually talk and be in each other's company. Instead of being captivated by the screen, your attention could have been held by him.
Jake tries to shake off the doubts and recapture the lighter mood from seconds ago.
He's not entirely successful.
You realise something is amiss.
You peer over at your boyfriend. His sudden subduedness. The small line forming between his eyebrows that you hate so much, because it means he's unhappy about something. You pause mid step and he stops alongside you.
"Don’t overthink it. I had fun," you tell him. You always have fun with him. "Thank you."
Jake's smile returns when he sees the expectant look in your eyes. The way you stretch up towards him. press yourself into his space, and he leans down; meeting you halfway.
Your lips lightly press to his, eyes closing, eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks and his own falling shut. Strong arms encircle you, pulling you ever closer, deepening the contact.
There'll be a next time, your kiss reassures him.
You tastes like popcorn. Sugar and butter and salt. Sweet and savoury and perfect.
#admiring respectfully once again#respectfully might be a lie#lookism#lookism x reader#lookism webtoon#lookism manhwa#lookism fic#jake kim#jake kim x reader#kim gimyung x reader#kim gimyeong x reader#wannaeatramyeon
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⭐NSFW Alphabet with Lucifer Morningstar
Good old NSFW Alphabet with our favourite duck man. Grab some snacks and a beverage, get comfy and enjoy <3
Template can be found here
~1.4k words
GN! Reader, mentions of makeup
Content Warning: NSFW, not proof read
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He’s attentive to your needs. The literal king of aftercare, whatever you want he can provide. A bath? You got it. Cuddles? A snack? A walk in the garden? Hell, more sex? You got it!
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He likes his tongue, plain and simple. The power he has over you with it is his favourite thing. Watching how you squirm just because of this one part of him, he’s ready to blow a load just thinking about it! You on the other hand, oh he’s tied between your thighs and your chest. The way your legs shake just that little bit when he’s doing something right? Or the way your chest HEAVES after you cum? It’s too good!
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Would eat your cum breakfast, lunch and dinner if given the chance. And trust, he’s tried to do that on multiple occasions. You stop him, saying something about having a “balanced diet” whatever that means…
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Lucifer fantasizes about you riding him during a meeting. He’s caught himself thinking about you sitting on his lap, while he’s on the throne, bouncing up and down restlessly like your soul depends on it. He’ll sit and envision what everyone else’s reaction would be, although he isn’t the biggest fan of sharing so maybe this will have to stay a fantasy…until he can learn to hold that many clones of himself that is (;
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
This man has been around since before the creation of humanity, over 10,000 years! At least 8,000 of those years having sex with either Lilith or Eve. So yes, Lucifer knows what he’s doing, and he knows he knows that he’s good at it. It’s named ‘The devil’s tango’ for a reason ya’ll.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Spooning or really anything where all of him is pressed into all of you. He just wants to hold you, whatever position that may be. He may be sexy but he is still damaged, and this is vulnerable. Just let him lay all his lovin on you ok?
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Depends heavily on the foreplay, but on average he’ll start a lil goofy and turn more serious as the act goes on. But always be ready for a wayward joke here and there. Sometimes it’s just too good to pass up! (just like how having sex with you is too good to pass up)
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He’s kept himself surprisingly well-groomed after his seven-year isolation. It’s trim and orderly the first time you see it, though it doesn’t matter that much because it’s such a pale blonde, that it’s basically invisible.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
My God, this man is bursting at the seams with love for you. His heart swells so much that it starts to hurt when he thinks about how he gets to participate in such a vulnerable and personal thing like sex with you. The most hated being in creation and you willing run into his trap, arms open and ready to envelop him in pleasure. Even if you can’t see it in his face or his words during the moment, he is always just so thankful that you could love him like this.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
At least once a day. He can’t help himself, plus he doesn’t have much going on most days sooo why not? No one’s stopping him, well you might but that's just cause you would rather help him than let him do it on his own.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
It is Lucifer, he’s got the words ‘corruption kink’ written on his goddamn head. (attached to the neck or the shaft, dealer’s choice) Like dirty talk is a lot of ‘What would your Father Even think of you now? On your knees for me? Hm? Darling, I can’t hear you~’. They want him to be the antichrist? Fine. Spread your legs and give him until the sun rises and he’ll show just how cruel he can be.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
His Throne, it’s the one place where he knows that no other person could even sit, let alone have sex on. This is the Sin of Pride, of course, his favourite place is centred around his power.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
When you call him yours, my king, my love, my slut. The little choice in wording that shows that you understand just how much of his heart you own, and that is all of it by the way.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
While you’ve never done this because you understand, it turns him off real quick if you bring up his past love, Lilith. They’ve been divorced for years and he’s moved on but still, it rubs him the wrong way if you were to ask if ‘Lilith could fuck you like this, if she could love you like this or make you moan the way I do?’ Just No.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
10s 10s 10s all across the board!
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Again, depends on the foreplay but also how his depression is. If he is slipping into or is in another episode than its all sweet nothings, slow and romantic. If not than he’s more willing to go as fast as your body can handle.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Lucifer rathers to not have quickies but it happens. To him, it feels like he can’t make sure that you’re both getting what you want and he’d rather sell his soul to Alastor than leave you unsatisfied because of a goddamn time constraint.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He may be skeptical but he’ll try it. You got to try to know if you’ll like it. Plus you got quite the funny story from failed attempts at some things but that's part of the fun aint it?
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He’s the Devil from the Bible! Lucifer is quite literally otherworldly, his stamina doesn’t run out, it’s allllllll on how long you hold on for, baby.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Not the biggest fan of toys but if your adamant, he’ll give them a go again. Although ropes will always be on the table for him (;
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A constant tease! All day, every day honey. He thrives when teasing you but as soon as the tables turn he is melting like that! That being said, he’s learnt to be careful with how much he teases you, least he want a repeat of that day at that gala, and seeing as Ozzie still makes fun of him for it, he’d rather not.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
His bedroom is soundproof. That’s explanation enough.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He loves it when you leave markings on him, scratches, bites, hickeys or d) all of the above. Don’t get him started on when your lipstick stains his face or clothes. Minimum 30% of all of his shirts have a crisp kiss mark on the collar and Lucifer wouldn’t have it any other way.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Matches the rest of him pretty well, on the thin side as well as a blinding white colour while hitting a comfortable 7.8 inches. He knows exactly how to use it too. No wonder Lilith felt like That Bitch.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Need it being said? His sex drives rivals that of Angel Dust. Don’t start something you can’t finish.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If the two of you aren’t cuddling then he doesn’t fall asleep until it’s almost sunrise. If you do snuggle up on him then it’s lights out real quick. That mix of sex, your shampoo and your body against his is his ultimate melatonin.
#hazbin lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel#lucifer hazbin x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer morningstar#lucifer magne
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Learning to Live Part 23
summary: Javier is living the fucking dream and has never been happier with the woman he planned to marry—until the mistakes of his past are brought to light, and his world comes crashing down.
rating: E (18+! Age gap (about ten years), Soft Javier Peña, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña, explicit smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), masturbating (f), deepthroating, spanking, dirty talk (he talks you through touching yourself), praise kink, breeding kink, spit mention, mentions of assplay, canon typical violence (Javier punches someone), angst, Chucho being the best dad, Javier being cute with baby animals, Javier saying very romantic things during sex)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader
word count: 12.1k+
a/n: I’m just going to say I’m sorry. This will be part 1 of 2 for the Colombia arc. This chapter is all in Javi’s POV, and the next will be in reader’s. Thank you to @juletheghoul for betaing!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The fifth of November landed on a Thursday this year, and the temperatures were finally beginning to come down—just not enough for Javier to turn off the air conditioning in his truck or wear his suit jacket on his drive, the navy blue garment hanging over the back of the middle seat with his burgundy-colored tie.
The news radio station was a low chatter while he had his left palm gripping the steering wheel, the other holding up his Nokia cellphone to his ear, waiting for the other person to pick up.
Ring.
Ring.
“Murphy,” his old partner, Steve, answered.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Hey, Jav—it’s earlier than you usually call. Are you off work already?” For the other man, it was a little after five o’clock his time, and from the sound of it, he was on the road heading home to his wife and kids.
Javier’s hand squeezed so tightly on the wheel it made the leather creak at imagining getting to do the same, his heart picking up in pace and a smile curling up on his lips that someday he would.
On Thursdays, he called Steve when he got off work—he did it when he worked for his dad, talking to his best friend while having a cold beer in the kitchen or cooling off from the hot day on the couch in the living room, always checking up on how Steve, Connie, and their three kids were doing. Once he started dating the woman who’d be his wife, the phone calls started taking place on his drive from the ranch to her apartment, then from his job at the Sheriff’s office to their shared apartment.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I had something to do and couldn’t wait to get the fuck out of there. I spent my whole fucking day prepping for that stupid fucking meeting tomorrow.”
The one with the DEA.
The one with the DEA that he didn’t want to have.
Communication with them over the phone was fine because it was easy to get out of the calls—feigning he had meetings to attend, or another call coming through from his boss, or he just didn’t answer and let it go to voicemail since he recognized the numbers.
And maybe there might have been a time or three when he just hung up on them simply out of annoyance.
But tomorrow was in person, and he had no choice except to sit through the asshole of an agent questioning every little fucking thing about the busts the narcotics unit made and having Javier try to explain why they still hadn’t found out how the drugs were getting smuggled into their region. He didn’t understand why he was getting grilled about it when there were multiple agencies in the area, including the fucking DEA, trying to figure it out. He knew this meeting would put the irritating shit he sat through as attaché in Colombia to shame.
“I still can’t believe he’s asking so many goddamn questions,” Steve replied. “You’ve been handing him busts on a silver platter, and if I were him, I’d be thanking you, not giving you so much shit.”
Javier sighed. “Yeah, you’d fucking think. Why does this guy even give a fuck about me?”
He could hear the smile in his friend’s voice. “Like I told you the first time you called about this asshole: it's his first big assignment, and The Javier-fuckin’-Peña is one of his contacts—” Javier scoffed. “He’s just trying too fucking hard and is jealous of all the arrests you’ve made. Plus, you work for a law enforcement agency, Javi. The DEA has relationships with law enforcement agencies, and yours is smack dab on the border of a country with a history of smuggling, so you’re gonna be popular whether you like it or not.”
“I fuckin’ hate it,” he grumbled.
Steve chuckled. “I know, but suck it up, and tomorrow, scare the kid shitless with that mean ol’ glare of yours so he’ll leave you the fuck alone.”
His eyebrows rose, nodding his head.
“That’s definitely an idea...”
His friend laughed.
“I’m serious,” Javier said. “He wouldn’t take the fucking hint when I hung up on him. I could just… scare him a little.” Frowning, he whispered, “Mi Cielito can’t know.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Steve chuckled. “Things still good with you guys?”
The thought of her had him going soft, picturing her perfectly in his mind.
He smiled. “Things are going so fucking good.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Jav. She seems like a great girl.”
Taking a deep breath, he slowly let it out. “She’s fucking amazing, man—perfect, beautiful, wonderful. I love her so much and can’t wait to marry her.”
“Then propose to her already.” That made Javier frown. “You’ve known for months now that she’s the one, and you’re holding off, for what? A future date, when you can just do what you really wanna fucking do and marry her whenever you want. You’re not beholden to that date, Javi. Do what makes you happy.”
“When did you become a fucking motivational speaker?”
“When I became a dad—gotta give fatherly advice and pep talks. When you have a kid, you’ll become one, too.”
That made him smile again, thinking of his conversations with his father and how the older man always had wisdom to bestow upon him or knew exactly what to say. It was the same with his mom, almost as if once you became a parent, a plethora of knowledge was imparted on you to pass on to your child when, in actuality, it was just your life experience you were using to make sure your kid succeeded in life as best they could.
“I guess I will,” he replied. “Speaking of kids. How are mis sobrinos (niece and nephews)?”
The Murphys had three children.
Olivia was their eldest, who they adopted as a baby nine years ago in Colombia while Steve was working down there. Steve Jr., or Stevie, was three and their only biological child. Nathaniel, Nate for short, was just adopted the prior year and had turned one not too long ago.
Their kids (who could speak) called Javier ‘tío Javi,’ and he loved them all like they were his blood, sending presents on every birthday and Christmas that he double-checked with Connie they’d enjoy. Before the Thursday phone calls, it was a random day of the week calls when Javier had time while in the middle of trying to take down the Cali cartel, and they were a nice reprieve from the stress, especially when Olivia excitedly told him about her school day.
He spent a lot of time with them when he first got back to the States and even got to meet their new baby, but it’s been months since his last visit.
“They’re good. Pretty sure Olivia and Stevie are still on sugar highs from all the candy they got on Halloween.” That was the previous Sunday.
“What’d they dress up as?”
“Olivia was some princess from a cartoon movie with a beast, and she wore a pretty yellow dress—”
“Belle,” he interrupted. “She was Belle from Beauty and the Beast.”
“Yeah! That’s it. Wait. Why do you know that?”
“Lucky guess—what were Stevie and Nate?”
“Stevie was some blue spotted dog, and Nate was a lion.”
Javier was frowning.
He never celebrated Halloween growing up since Día de Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) overshadowed it, but if it was something his future wife wanted to do with their kids, he’d like them to have some kind of theme for their costumes… If he could get them to.
“I can’t wait to see the pictures,” he said, which was true. He kept all of the letters Connie sent with photos of their family while he’d been in Colombia and after he returned home. His girlfriend suggested putting them in an album after he’d taken her to the ranch and pulled out the small box containing the collection—so they got one that now lived on the bookshelf in their living room, hanging some of the pictures on their walls.
“Bring your girlfriend over here for Thanksgiving. We’d love to have you both.”
“Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got plans with my family.”
All his family members who lived in Laredo were getting together at his tía María’s, who had the biggest house, a good-sized patio space, and backyard to accommodate the dozens of adults and children who’d be in attendance to eat. He and Cielito would be spending the night before and morning of making pies and side dishes at the request of his three tías.
“Alright. But remember, our door is always open, and we’re dying to meet the woman that’s gonna make an honest man out of you.”
He snorted.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’re thinking sometime next month.”
“Any time is fine.”
“You want us to visit that bad?”
“Since the moment she found out you had a girlfriend, Connie has been on my ass about getting you to bring her here. For the love of god, Javier, please come visit us so she’ll leave me the fuck alone.”
“I’ll figure something out.”
“Thank you. Any time, Javi.”
“Probably right before my birthday.”
“Any time, just get your ass over here.”
“Will do.”
“I’m home, so I’ll talk to you later.”
“Give Connie and the kids my love.”
“Of course. Tell the future Mrs. Javier Peña we’re all excited to meet her.”
Javier smiled. “I will.”
“Bye, you asshole.”
“Adiós, pendejo (Goodbye, asshole).”
Clicking the end call button, he set the phone in the seat next to him and turned back up the radio, the top news stories being all about the latest midterm elections.
Minutes later, gravel crackled and popped under the truck tires as he drove down the long driveway past his father’s house to the back, parking in the empty spot beside his dad’s rig that, since he’d started driving, had always unofficially been his.
His door squealed when he opened it, his feet hitting the ground as he got out of his seat with his aviators sitting on the bridge of his nose, his phone put back in his pocket—the first few buttons of his white dress shirt were undone, taking a second to roll the sleeves up his forearms to make him more comfortable. Lifting his left wrist, his eyes narrowed to get a better read of the silver watch face, seeing he only had an hour before his future wife would be expecting him home, and by now, his family out here should’ve returned from checking on the herd of cattle; his father would either be in the small office across from the house doing paperwork or shirking his responsibilities elsewhere in the vicinity.
Javier went with his gut on where to find Chucho, the truck door slamming shut, the small rocks crunching under his steps as he made his way around the back of the vehicle heading toward the barns.
Passing the large paddock, all the horses, including his own, Sombra, and his tío’s, Enrique the Asshole, were stretching their legs and roaming around. His attention moved ahead to his primo (cousin) Diego, coming out of the new barn, wheeling a wheelbarrow full of hay his way.
The younger of his uncle’s sons got the Peña genes—brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin. The oldest, Sebastián, had a striking resemblance to his tío but was light-skinned and green-eyed like his Spanish mother. Their baby sister, Alma, and tío Ángel’s pride and joy was a mix of her parents—her mother’s beauty and eyes with her father’s tan skin and brown hair.
A beaming smile appeared on Diego’s face when he spotted Javier.
“¿Qué tal, Javi (What’s up, Javi)?” he asked as he approached. “¿Dónde está tu esposa (Where is your wife)?” he asked, looking around for Cielito and making Javier grin.
“Mi futura esposa está en nuestra casa (My future wife is at home). Estoy aquí para ver a mi papá (I’m here to see my dad). Necesito hablar con él (I need to talk to him).”
“Oh, él está allí en el granero de ganado (Oh, he’s over at the cattle barn),” he said, pointing in the direction with his thumb.
That was just what Javier suspected after something his dad said the previous day.
“Gracias, primo (Thank you, cousin). Tengo prisa (I’m in a hurry). Te veré el domingo en casa de tía María (I will see you Sunday at aunt Maria’s). ¡Adiós (Bye)!”
“¡Hasta luego (See you later)!”
His strides were long as he made his way toward the older barn, its wooden exterior wearing a new coat of bright red paint and the trim snow white. His father was standing at the pen’s fence, his straw cowboy hat shielding the sun’s rays as usual, holding a small plastic bucket in one of his hands, the other feeding carrots to the animals. Javier smiled that his assumption of what Chucho would be doing was correct as he approached, hearing his dad softly cooing words in Spanish.
“Stop spoiling mis hijas (my daughters),” Javier said, getting closer. At the sound of his voice, the two calves came bounding toward him on the other side of the fence, shoving their heads between the metal bars at him. He chuckled, crouching as he gave Daphne and Velma pets, their hair soft under his palms. “Hola, mis preciosas (Hello, my lovelies),” his tone was sweet. “Tan lindas que estan (You two are so cute). ¡Están creciendo tanto (You’re growing so much)! ¿Me extrañaron (Did you miss me)?”
At dinner the night before, Chucho had told them he was planning on bringing the girls in for a long weekend since they weren’t treated like the rest of the herd and didn’t live out on the pastures with them 24/7. His dad sometimes had them stay in the pen at the barn or hang out in his backyard. They were kept more like pets than cattle and spoiled as such.
He could hear his father’s footsteps coming near.
“I will spoil mis nietas bovinas (my bovine granddaughters) as much as I like since you haven’t given me any human ones to spoil… yet,” Chucho replied, holding the bucket toward him.
Javier groaned, this being a constant conversation they were having. “I know, I know, you’re not getting any younger—it’s gonna happen.” He took a couple of long orange carrots and started feeding them to the girls, who were happily munching away. “Like I’ve told you before. There’s just some shit we gotta take care of first, and fuck, we’ll need to buy a house.” The thought of hunting for one sounded like a real pain in the ass, especially with everything they’d want it to have.
“Javi?”
His head tilted up to meet his dad’s eyes. “Yeah?”
“Have you guys thought about building a house?”
Javier’s eyebrows dipped together.
They’d discussed what their future home would need—a big backyard for garden space, a spacious living room, and a good-sized kitchen. They also planned to move into a house around the summer of the following year. If they were to build, though, it would be to their specifications. He could give his future wife the kitchen of her dreams, a big sunroom for her plants, and a soundproofed master suite.
“We haven’t…” he answered slowly. “We’d have to find land, an architect, contractor, whatever fucking else is needed to build a house.”
“The land is taken care of,” Chucho said with a wave of his free hand like it was no big deal.
Javier knew he had to look confused. “What?”
Daphne and Velma had finished eating, and he was back to petting them.
His dad smiled. “I’ve got all this land, Mijo.” He held out his arms. “Be my next-door neighbor, or live up the road. Don’t stress yourselves out over finding the perfect house when you can just build it—and with us living so close together, it’ll be easy for you to bring mis nietos humanos (my human grandchildren) over all the time.”
Javier’s eyebrow arched. “How do you know we’re gonna have more than one kid?”
He hoped they would and wanted as many children with her as she was willing to have.
There was a sad smile on Chucho’s face. “Because you’ve always wanted to be a father, Javi,” he answered, and Javier’s heart clenched hard. “That whole mess all those years ago before you left? You didn’t want to marry her, and I don’t blame you. She told you she was pregnant, and you just wanted to do what was best for your unborn baby—they were your main priority, and you were willing to do anything for them. Yes, you were scared about becoming a dad, but we could see you were excited, too, and how much you loved that child you thought existed.” His dad put a comforting palm on his shoulder. “You were ready to devote yourself to being the best father to them.” Javier’s eyes were watering because it was true he always wanted to be a dad, and he didn’t think anyone knew. “I know her lie hurt you deeply, Mijo, and also gave you relief, but it’s such a good thing you didn’t end up marrying her because look at where you’re at now.” The older man was softly smiling now. “You found the right woman who truly loves you, and your mother would’ve loved—I sure do, and when you hold your child for the first time, you will fall in love with them immediately and want ten more,” he chuckled.
Javier laughed through the tears, taking off his sunglasses to wipe at his eyes with the back of his arm before putting them back on.
“Also,” Chucho continued, “I know you’ll have more than one because the two of you can’t be left alone for more than five minutes—it’s surprising she hasn’t fallen pregnant yet.”
“She has good birth control.”
Too good, in Javier’s opinion.
He started to stand up, involuntarily grunting from the ache in his knees and lower back.
His dad’s eyebrows rose, nodding his head. “Well, that explains things. You were just here yesterday. I wasn’t expecting to see you again until Sunday. Something on your mind, Mijo?”
Therapy had been a fucking godsend, and Javier no longer constantly worried about shit, feeling like he was finally in control of his thoughts and emotions. Still, sometimes, he just wanted to drink a beer with his dad and talk about what was on his mind.
Javier smiled cheekily. “More like someone on my mind.”
Chucho laughed. “She’s always on your mind!”
“Yeah, she is, but, uh—” He scratched at the back of his head. “—I needed to talk to you about something alone…”
The elder Peña sobered up immediately, putting a hand out to squeeze his arm. “Is everything okay, Javi?”
Javier gave him a smile. “Everything’s fucking amazing—especially with her, and that’s why I’m out here…”
His father’s face lit up with a huge grin as the realization dawned on him. “¡No puedo esperar para decírselo a tu mamá (I can’t wait to tell your mom)! Vamos a la casa y me lo puedes contar todo (Let’s go to the house, and you can tell me everything).”
On the drive to their apartment, there was a lot to think about between the meeting the next day and plans for the future. The whole building a house was a great idea that he wanted to run by Cielito to see what she thought about it, then there was the other thing he needed to figure out…
Arriving home at his usual time, it wasn’t a surprise her car was already parked in her spot when he pulled up since she was usually off a little earlier than him. His truck took the space beside hers, towering over her tiny Honda that Javier had to contort his body in order to drive when he took it every weekend to fill the gas tank.
Before leaving the ranch, he washed his hands and hoped his cologne masked any kind of animal smells, not wanting her to know where he’d been—if she happened to ask, he’d tell her the truth of his whereabouts because there was no reason to lie.
Walking to the apartment, his suit jacket and tie were dangling over his arm, the other hand holding his keys that jingled as he unlocked the front door. Once inside, he shut the door and locked it, tossing his ring of keys into the large bowl on the long, narrow console table in the entryway, toeing off his Chelsea boots in front of the shoe rack on the floor beside it.
His body completely relaxed, a long, relieved sigh leaving him at finally being home.
The familiar smell of the apartment calmed him—he was safe here, he was loved.
“Cielito?” he called, turning toward the rest of the room and immediately jumping in his skin at her standing right there in front of him. “Jesus Christ,” Javier breathed, his heart pounding in his chest, pressing his hand over it.
She wore a deep purple oversized t-shirt that had faded and thinned over being washed and worn so many times, her legs bare beneath it.
A laugh sputtered from her lips. “I’m sorry for spooking you,” she said, moving forward to wrap her arms around his middle. He hugged her back with his free arm, a smile turning up on his mouth. “This was supposed to be horny, not scary.”
“How is you scaring the shit out of me supposed to be horny?” he asked, kissing her forehead.
Pulling back, there was a mischievous grin on her face. “Give me your jacket and tie.” He handed both over, watching as she turned to toss them on the couch behind her. When her attention returned to him, she said, “Okay, so you carrying your jacket kinda threw off my groove. Now, pretend you just took off your shoes and are super happy to be home.”
“I did just take off my boots, and I am happy to be home…” he replied with knitted brows.
“Yes, I know, but turn this way—” She made him face the shoes again. “—Okay,” she said, taking steps away from him. He turned his head toward her. “No! Don’t look at me yet!” Her outburst startled him, making him look forward once more.
“Mi amor (my love), what are you doing?” he asked.
“You’ll see, and you’re gonna love it. Trust me.”
“I trust you, Cielito. I trust you more than anyone else.”
And he did.
There wasn’t anyone else he trusted more or with whom he felt comfortable being genuinely vulnerable. Yes, he still hadn’t told her about Colombia, but he just wasn’t ready to open all of the old wounds and muddy her with the blood of all of the awful shit he’d seen and done—honestly, he didn’t want to think about any of it or bring her into that world, he liked keeping her separate from it all.
She was heaven. Colombia had been hell.
So, he was biding his time.
“I know, you big cutie,” she said. “Okay, now turn.”
He was beyond confused and unsure what was going on, but she was excited, so he was more than willing to go along with it, knowing she’d make whatever it was good.
Turning in place toward her, he was met with a look of determination on her face as she came at him quickly, his eyes widening when she grabbed the open collar of his dress shirt, shoving him back against the front door, smashing her mouth against his as she kissed him hard.
Smiling into her lips, one of his arms pulled her close, the other hand going lower to grab a handful of her ass, groaning when he found no underwear.
She was right. He definitely loved this.
Blood rushed to his groin, his cock twitching when she slipped her tongue into his mouth to tangle with his own. Her hand slithered down the tight space of their bodies to rub over his hardening length, making him moan when she nipped at his bottom lip, arousal igniting in his belly.
Her mouth was a hair's breadth away from his as she breathily whispered, “I wanna suck your dick. Can I, Javi? Can I choke on this big cock?” She ended the question by lightly squeezing it in its half-hard state.
“You can do whatever the fuck you want to me,” he answered huskily, feeling her smile when she kissed him.
Both of his hands were now under the hem of her shirt, groping her bare backside.
“You don’t know what you’re offering when you say that,” she murmured into his lips.
“Yes, I do,” came his muffled answer. “Anything. You love my ass as much as I love yours.” He squeezed her asscheeks in his big palms.
The revelation he was into assplay was surprising, to say the least. Now in the right circumstances, he loved when she used her fingers while going down on him, or there was that one time she experimented with her mouth, and he about lost his damn mind.
“I do love your ass and you, but I didn’t bring lube.”
He smiled. “Later then, and I love you, too,” he replied, kissing her harder.
He deepened the kiss, their tongues moving together in a practiced dance while she made sounds in the back of her throat that went straight to his cock, loving how her scent was enveloping him—knowing he’d smell her all over him by the time they were done, it permeating his clothes, his hair, and his skin, hating that he’d have to wash it all away later.
When her lips left his to take a breath, the plush softness of them met his chin, then her teeth lightly nibbled, making him smile while both of her hands went to the front of his pants—his belt clinked as she expertly undid it, popping open the button of his slacks, unzipping them, his dick now completely hard.
“You’ve been on my mind all day,” she said in that sultry tone she knew drove him wild, unable to keep from giving her a quick kiss.
“What were you thinking about, Cielito?”
She looked up at him under her lashes, crookedly smiling.
“Sucking this beautiful dick,” she answered, stroking it over his pants, the sensation making his breath hitch in his throat.
His tongue wet his bottom lip, wanting nothing more than her mouth on him. “What else, baby?”
“Well, we haven’t fooled around since Monday—“ Fuck, had it really been since he tied up her hands and fucked her in the kitchen? “—because you had to work late Tuesday, and we went to your dad’s last night.” Her free hand went up his chest. “So I’m really in the mood for you to make me feel it tomorrow.” She bit her lower lip.
“I can do that,” he replied. He covered her hand on his cock with his own. “This is yours, and you can have it any fucking way you want it, mi amor (my love).”
Her mouth collided with his, saying as she kissed him, “God, you’re so hot—I love you so fucking much.”
It made him smile. “I love you, too.”
One last kiss, and she was crouching in front of him, yanking the navy blue material down his thighs, leaving his dick confined by his white boxer briefs. She rubbed him over them, his chin dropping to watch as she mouthed at his hard length over the cotton, the warmth of her mouth causing his own to go slack and his skin to heat.
Her hands went up his thighs, the color of her neatly trimmed nails catching his attention.
His words came out rougher and deeper, a smile on his lips as he picked up her hand and inspected it, “You’re wearing the nail polish I picked out.” It was bright cherry red, and he’d chosen it the prior day at the drugstore before they’d gone out to the ranch, the cheesy name on the cap of the bottle reading, ‘Not Red-y for Bed.’ “It looks fucking gorgeous on you, baby,” he continued, swiping his thumb over the tops of her fingers.
She grinned up at him. “Thanks. My future husband has excellent taste,” she replied with a wink. “Now stop distracting me from sucking your dick.”
“Yes, mi reina (my queen),” he said, letting her palm go and watching as her beautiful fingers pulled down his underwear, his cock springing free. Moving onto her knees, he was glad they were cushioned by the soft, thick runner rug they’d invested in, her spitting in her palm and taking him in hand, his mouth falling open at the first stroke.
He started working open the buttons of his shirt, keeping his eyes on her as she languidly jerked him, getting glimpses of her red nails when she’d twist on the upstroke, and fuck, they looked good wrapped around his dick.
She took him into her mouth, and Javier forgot how to breathe.
There was only one button left to undo on his dress shirt, but that didn’t matter with her gaze on him, watching as she hummed in enjoyment, taking him further and further into her hot, wet heat. Her other hand slipped between her legs, and his cock twitched that she was touching herself.
“Fuck, hermosa (beautiful),” he rasped, his hand resting on the back of her head. Javier gulped hard at the pleasure. “It feels so fucking good, Cielito—you’re so fucking beautiful playing with your pretty little pussy while my dick is in your mouth. You gonna make yourself come, baby? Can you do that for me? Come all over those gorgeous fingers.”
She moaned while continuing to blow him, doing this swirly thing with her tongue around the tip and on the underside of his cock that had him groaning loudly. His hips were rocking, knowing she was on her way to turning him into an absolute mess.
Her eyes were watching him through her lashes, all heavy-lidded and dark, the arousal evident in her gaze while her lips stretched around his dick and her head bobbed, twirling her tongue around the head on each upstroke. Her hand worked what couldn’t fit, the other moving at the apex of her thighs.
“Are you rubbing your clit?” he roughly asked. “Does it get you off sucking my cock? You like this, don’t you? You like getting yourself off while choking on it.”
That made her moan again, and he could see on her face how much she was enjoying this.
Truth be told, before her, Javier didn’t really care for blow jobs—not that he didn’t like them, he loved them; the problem was he could tell when his partner wasn’t into it, and there was no bigger turn-off than someone doing something they didn’t want to do.
But Cielito was different.
He was pretty fucking sure she had some kind of addiction to sucking his dick with how often she wanted to do it, and the thing was, every, single, time, he could tell she was having the best time—he had never seen someone enjoy blowing him more.
Javier loved it when she wanted to go down on him, her enthusiasm making it incredible.
All of a sudden, her mouth came off him, a string of spit keeping them connected as her eyes closed, and he knew that look on her face. Her free hand left him to pluck at her pebbled nipple through her shirt.
“Are you gonna come for me?” he asked, curling his fist around his wet cock, slowly jacking off as he watched. “You gonna be my good fucking girl and come for me?”
“Yes,” she moaned, nodding. “So close.”
“I was gonna get down there and eat you out—make you come on my fingers and tongue, but I think you’d like it better if I didn’t loosen you up before I got my dick inside you. Isn’t that right, baby?” Her breath stuttered, a sheen of sweat coating her forehead. “It’s been three fucking days, and you want to feel how big I am—how much I stretch you open.” Soft sounds were spilling from her lips that were getting louder. “You’re my dirty fucking girl and want to feel me all day tomorrow while you’re at work.” He could tell she was close. “I bet you’ll want me to fuck you again tonight in bed and tomorrow before work so you’re stuffed full of my come—”
Her body tensed up, coming with a gasp of his name, and he smiled.
“There it is,” he said. “Such a good girl—you did so good for me, mi amor (my love). God, you’re amazing. It’s fucking sexy how hungry you are for my dick.”
Her eyes blinked open, smiling dreamily at him. “Because it’s perfect,” she replied. “And you’re perfect—you make the best noises when I go down on you, and you never try to fuck my face without asking or are ever pushy.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “I honestly don’t think you’ve ever asked me for a BJ, which is shocking.”
He was smiling. “I’ve never needed to, and I wouldn’t.”
Her brow arched. “You wouldn’t ask for a blow job?”
“I only want one if it’s something you want to do—otherwise, I’d rather just fuck or eat your pussy,” he answered with a shrug.
“I am living the fucking dream. Now move your hand; I wanna feel you in my throat.”
He chuckled, doing as she said, and was not at all surprised when her lips wrapped around his cock. She bobbed her head, working him inch by inch into her mouth until she swallowed him down into her throat, taking him all the way to the root, Javier groaning.
Those bright red nails were digging into his thighs, the knot in his belly was beginning to wind tighter, and his cock pulsing in the tight space. Sweat coated his brow, a flush crawling up his chest and neck, his heart pounding in his chest.
Her eyes were on his, tears gathering at the edges, saliva escaping at the sides of her mouth, and he thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“My good fucking girl,” he praised, feeling where he was bulging in her throat. “Such a good fucking girl taking my dick down your throat—god, I love you so much.”
She gurgled around him like she was replying, ‘I love you, too,’ then her head was coming up, sputtering as she coughed.
“You okay?” he asked.
She gave him a thumbs up, finally answering, “Yeah.” Saliva was coating her chin and around her lips while she breathed hard.
His thumb slid along her bottom lip as he smiled. “Hermosa (Beautiful),” he said.
“Messy,” she corrected.
“Still beautiful.”
Playfully, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m not done.”
Not wasting another second, she took the tip back into her mouth, circling her tongue around the sensitive ridges. Javier swallowed thickly, feeling the pleasure build inside him, entranced with her stroking him again, the flash of red as her hand easily glided up and down his spit-slicked shaft. When her other hand started lightly massaging his balls, his cock jerked, a shaky breath leaving his lips.
He didn’t want to come like this.
Quickly, he got the last button on his shirt undone, shrugging it off and tossing it toward the couch, it landing on the floor.
“Baby?” he said, her eyes immediately meeting his while pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft.
“Hmm?” She hummed.
“Don’t make me come.”
The power was in her hands.
“You close?” she asked before being fucking mean and dipping her head low to lick at his sack.
“Fuck,” he moaned. His throat bobbed as he thickly swallowed, trying to control his breathing and the tightening in his gut, not wanting to blow his load so soon. There was no other choice but to gently push at her shoulder. “Stop,” he gasped, and she did immediately, hands and mouth coming off him. “Thank you,” he panted, swiping at the sweat on his forehead with his arm. She shuffled back on her knees, looking up at him. “Do you want me to eat your pussy or give you my dick?” he asked. He was fine with either and was pretty sure she was going to choose—
“Dick,” she answered immediately.
He smirked. “Fucking knew it.” His thumbs went into the waistband of his boxer briefs, shoving them and his slacks down to his ankles before peeling off his socks. Groaning, he straightened and held out his hands to her, saying, “Come on, mi futura esposa (my future wife). You deserve better than getting fucked on the floor.”
She accepted his help, Javier grunting as he pulled her up to stand in front of him.
“Fucking on the floor is hot, though,” she pouted.
“Sometimes,” he said, grabbing her hips and turning her the other way. “Most of the time, it just fucks up my back and knees, and I don’t want to deal with that shit tomorrow. Let’s go.” He smacked both of her asscheeks to get her to start moving, earning a giggle as he followed her to the bedroom.
Their first big purchase as a couple was upgrading the queen-sized bed she’d already had to a king. They’d gotten a sturdy frame that Javier tweaked to ensure there’d be no squeaking and a white metal headboard that was arched with thin vertical slats for obvious reasons, precautions made so it wouldn’t bang against the wall—yes, he did spend an entire Saturday morning sex-proofing their new bed for the sake of their elderly next door neighbor who glared at him every time they crossed paths.
Late afternoon sunlight was slipping through the cracks in the closed blinds and illuminating the blue linen curtains covering them in their shared room. The only lights on were both bedside lamps—her watch, a paperback, alarm clock, and a corded telephone accompanying hers; a small framed picture of them kissing with fireworks going off above their heads that his dad took at the town’s Fourth of July event, a book with his extra pair of reading glasses on top of it, and his alarm clock beside his.
His attention was on her ass as she crawled up onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress when he followed. Once she was far enough up the bed, he pounced, gripping handfuls of her backside and tackling her to lay flat on her stomach, making her laugh when he sunk his teeth into her plump flesh. It made him smile, placing a loud, smacking kiss over the indents of his teeth before he sat up and helped her flip onto her back, his hips nestling in the space between her thighs.
Their noses were almost touching, his arm beside her head holding him up while his other hand rubbed up and down her belly over her shirt.
“Hi,” he said.
She smiled, sliding her fingers into the hair at the back of his head, making him shiver. “Hi, babe. I love how we get so horny we forget to greet each other.” She quickly pecked him on the lips.
“Or you decide to scare the shit out of me.”
“I really didn’t mean to. I was just trying to channel my inner Javi.”
His eyebrows dipped together.
“What?”
“You know, just showing up and going zero to horny in under thirty seconds. Like Monday, when you stormed into the kitchen and started making out with me? That was so hot. I was trying to be like that.”
He smiled. “You’re cute,” he said, nuzzling her nose. “Don’t sneak up on me next time, and it’ll go better.”
“Noted.” She pulled him in for a kiss, and he happily reciprocated, deepening it quickly with a slide of his tongue along her lip for her to open. His cock was still hard, pressing into her skin, his hand moving up to palm her shirt-covered breast, listening to those sounds he loved coming from her throat while they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
His lips left hers to catch his breath, moving them along her jaw to nibble at her chin.
“I love you in this shirt,” he said into her skin.
“Thanks,” she panted. “It’s comfy. Now please, fuck me, Javi.”
“Need my dick, Cielito?” He kissed over her pulse point, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath his lips.
“Yes,” she answered.
That was all the answer he needed, pushing up with a grunt to sit up on his knees while she turned onto her stomach, which required him to help move her legs around him. Her hips rose automatically without his help, presenting her glistening pussy, and that had a shock of arousal hitting his gut at how ready she was for him. His cock throbbed between his legs, wanting to feel her squeeze around him.
One hand smoothed over her ass, spitting on the fingers of the other that he rubbed over her entrance, repeating the action to slick his dick up, notching himself at her drenched hole.
“You ready?” he asked.
Her head was resting on her crossed arms. “Dámelo (Give it to me).”
“Es tuyo, mi reina (It’s yours, my queen),” he replied, pushing in.
His eyes slipped shut, and his mouth went slack as her hot, velvety walls embraced him, smoothly sliding all the way home in one thrust.
“Fuck,” he breathed, it feeling like her tight heat was trying to suck him in deeper.
“God, that’s good,” she moaned.
Pulling out halfway, he pushed easily back in. “Fucking love this pussy—sit up with me.” He tapped her hip.
Her legs were on either side of his, getting her up on her knees to have her back to his chest, his arm going across her front to hold her breast, the other palm gliding down the soft cotton of her shirt to the apex of her thighs.
His pace was slow; there was no hurry, wanting her to really feel him by keeping his cock buried deep inside her, barely thrusting in and out while moving his hips in a circular pattern. He welcomed it when she reached behind to dig her cherry-colored nails into his ass, her other set doing the same to his arm as she softly moaned, the fire in his belly slowly building.
Had he really gone three days without this? Feeling her warmth, the way it rippled through his body, and her softness, having her so close to him, and the connection. He needed to feel more of her. He needed more of her skin on his. He needed it all.
His thrusts didn’t waver as he pressed his lips to the shell of her ear, whispering, “Mi amor (My love)?”
“Yes?” she gasped.
“Do you wanna keep the shirt on?”
Even though he told her constantly how attractive he found her and her body, there were still times when she felt more comfortable wearing a shirt during sex, and he respected that.
“No.”
As soon as the word left her lips, he was tugging it up, her arms going over her head for him to get it off, tossing it to the floor.
Pulling her back, her skin on his felt amazing, languidly moving in her while he kissed along her shoulder and neck and up to bite at her earlobe. His fingers between her legs were rubbing at her swollen clit, his other hand plucking at her hardened nipple, feeling her arousal dripping down his dick.
His lips were back at her ear, panting hot breaths against it as he asked, “Did your needy little pussy miss me, baby? Did it miss being stuffed with my cock or my come?”
“Both,” she moaned.
With the way her cunt was starting to flutter, he knew she was getting close. Their bodies were sticky with sweat, not caring how they stuck together or the wet sounds where they were joined, Javier smiling at hearing the wet suck of his dick moving in and out of her sopping pussy.
The angle was awkward, but he kissed her cheek, and she turned her head to chase his lips, kissing him while he built her up higher and higher, his own orgasm taking shape at the base of his spine.
His mouth went back to press at her shoulders, Javier in heaven.
“I love you so fucking much,” he said through heavy breaths, muffled into her skin. “So fucking much. Eres todo para mí y siempre lo serás (You’re everything to me and always will be). Te daría la luna si pudiera (I would give you the moon if I could). Te daría todas las estrellas del cielo (I would give you every star in the sky).” He started moving a little faster, putting more pressure on her clit, her moans getting louder. “Te mereces todo y más y movería cielos y tierra para dártelo si pudiera (You deserve everything and more and I would move heaven and earth to give it to you if I could). Pero solo soy un hombre así que te estoy dando todo de mí (But I am just a man, so I am giving you all of me). Cada parte de mí te pertenece porque yo soy tuyo y siempre seré tuyo (Every part of me belongs to you because I am yours and I will always be yours).”
Her pussy seized up tight around him as she came with a cry of his name, his fingers gently swirling over her sensitive bundle of nerves to help her ride out the wave.
“So good to me,” he softly said, kissing the side of her neck. “You did so fucking good for me, my good girl—god, I love you.”
It took some seconds for her to speak, her voice sounding rougher than usual. “Javier, why would you say absurdly romantic shit you know is gonna make me cry while you’re balls deep inside me and on the cusp of making me come?”
“I don’t know,” he panted, shrugging. “Felt right. Still got you off, though,” he pointed out.
“Yes, and cry at the same time, which is rude.” She wiped at her eyes.
His hands were rubbing circles on her hips.
“I don’t see that as a bad thing—are you still wanting the special thing you say I’m good at?”
“The Javi special, that you know the name of and refuse to use—” That was true. “—Yes. Pretty please.”
He smacked her thigh. “Hands and knees, baby.”
His cock was still achingly hard inside her when she lowered onto her arms, figuring he could go a bit longer before he’d come. Gripping the flesh of her hips, he moved, watching as he pulled almost all the way out, seeing himself shining in her juices and fucking back into her hard. She loved getting pounded from behind, and he was more than happy to oblige with his dick slickly moving fast in and out of her tight, hot heat, carving out space inside her with every stroke that had her mewling.
A layer of sweat was coating his forehead and chest, feeling a drop slide down his cheek while he grunted in exertion, fucking her how she wanted, her moans of his name spurring him on. His big hands grabbed onto the cheeks of her ass and squeezed them, gripping them to pull her back and fuck her on his cock. One left her, coming back down on the jiggling flesh with a loud smack that had her cunt clenching around him and her crying out in pleasure. He kept up the punishing pace, his heart thudding in his chest, spanking her again in the same spot, then on the other side, feeling her getting wetter.
“You gonna give me one more?” he asked through bared teeth.
Her arms and legs were trembling, and he was pretty sure he could make her come one more time. It looked like she couldn’t hold up her weight anymore, moving onto her forearm, her head resting to the side on it, noticing her other arm had gone under her body to play with her clit.
“Javi?” she gasped his name.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“I want you to come inside me.”
Pleasure was curling and knotting in his gut, and her words ramped it up.
“I will.”
“I wanna feel you come inside me.”
That sentence confused the fuck out of him in his wrecked state, not knowing at all what she meant since he already said he was going to do it.
“I’ll fill you up, baby,” he panted, now focusing on chasing his high, closing his eyes, needing that sweet release more than anything. “I’ll fuck you full of me, stuff you full of my come, and get you preg—” The sentence cut off into a strangled moan as she reached between her legs to cup his sack, the sensation tipping him over the edge, hitting the point of no return. He pushed into her all the way as his balls tightened, and he came, his cock jerking hard, pumping spurts and spurts of his spend inside her. His mind had gone blank, euphoria taking over every molecule in his body, feeling her cunt spasming and tightening around him as she went with him.
When a coherent thought came to him, it was that he needed to lie down—a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled out, moving to fall onto the mattress beside her.
The second thing to cross his mind as the cool air in the room felt chillier on his sweat-dampened skin was he missed her warmth—frowning, he sat up with a groan, his heavy-lidded eyes seeing she was sprawled out next to him.
“Lay back down,” she said, turning her head toward him with a little smile and looking just as wrung out as he felt. “I could feel your sad eyes on me.” She yawned, speaking through it, “I just needed a second to be able to move—I was heading your way, baby.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, lying back down and getting comfortable with his head cushioned on a pillow. Seconds later, she was in his space, making herself at home with her body half on top of his, Javier smiling when her fingers slid into his sweat-dampened hair, wrapping his arms around her.
His words were rough. “That was new.”
“Robyn told me about it.” That was her best friend and co-worker. “But I just made it extra horny by feeling them while you came.”
“I liked it.”
“Good.”
She cuddled closer to him, sighing happily as they laid there.
If someone asked him what his favorite thing in the entire world was to do, his answer would be what they were doing right now—not the sex, but the being naked, holding each other in their relaxed, happy states, enjoying the other's company.
This was also when he was most vulnerable physically but mentally, too. All his carefully built walls crumbling, aware that he’d answer any question she asked him and ignoring the one on the tip of his tongue that he could taste the words of.
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head up to kiss under his jaw, and his heart started hammering that maybe he said aloud what he was thinking.
His lips pressed to her forehead. “Yes, what?”
“Just practicing how I’ll answer when you finally ask—I wanna be ready.”
He smiled.
“I do.”
“Huh?”
“Just practicing how I’ll answer when I’m asked if I’ll take you as my wife.”
She sat up to hover her face over his, looking him in the eyes. “That was really fucking smooth.” He smiled. “I love you, Javi, more than anything.” Her lips met his, kissing him tenderly, his hand cradling the back of her head.
They separated after a few seconds. “I love you, too,” he replied.
Her red-nailed fingers pushed the hair off his forehead while she looked at him fondly. “I know you do. Let’s go shower, and then we can make dinner.” She started to get up, moving to the edge of the bed. “Does pasta sound good?” she asked as she stood.
His back protested when he sat up and got out of bed from the opposite side. “Sounds great. We’ve got stuff for salad, too.”
“We do.” She nodded, her head turning to look at him.
“Go start warming up the shower. I’m gonna go grab my clothes from the living room.”
Her mouth turned up in a grin. “What a good, responsible man, cleaning up after his sexcapades. Okay, hurry up!” She started heading for the en suite, and he went to grab the pile he left by the front door, taking out his wallet from his pants pocket and putting it in the bowl on the table, picking up his dress shirt from the floor, grabbing his suit jacket and tie.
He could hear the overhead fan blowing and the water running in the bathroom, light streaming out from the door that was almost all the way closed.
Tossing his clothes on the bed, he kept his pants in his hands as he walked the few steps to his dresser beside the bedroom door, glancing toward the noises over his shoulder before pulling open the top drawer that contained his socks and underwear. His hand went into the pocket of his slacks, pulling out the small white leather ring box, popping it open to see the gold band with a modest-sized diamond in the middle with two smaller ones on each side.
“You don’t know that you’re gonna get to answer that question a lot sooner than planned,” he whispered, “and I can’t wait to see you wearing this.”
“Javi?” she called from the bathroom.
Quickly, he shut the box. “Coming!” He dug into the back of his drawer for the old pair of wool socks he never wore, bundling the ring box inside of them and stashing it away in the depths.
Now, all he had to figure out was when.
Friday, November 6, 11:58 AM
The conference room didn’t have a fucking clock.
He needed a cigarette, his fingers itching for one, thinking he could probably bum a smoke off of someone when this was over. His reading glasses were sitting on the bridge of his nose as he brought up his wrist to read his watch for probably the thirtieth time in the last fifty-eight minutes he’d been in this pointless meeting.
The DEA agent he was currently half-listening to and who has been the bane of his existence since he started this job, had come in on some kind of power trip, thinking he had authority over Javier and the people he worked with—it’s been an ongoing issue and a reason there was animosity between the two men.
It all made sense when he finally put a face to the name of asshole DEA agent Jesse Clemons.
The other man was in his late twenties, if he had to guess—definitely too young for the assignment he’d been given since there was no way he had enough experience, and he was hiding it by being a grade-A dick. In terms of looks, the kid was smaller than him, thinner, shorter, with the face of an average white male, and had the attitude of someone whose parents paid for him to get into an Ivy League school—which made Javier think he had connections that landed him this job since something about the guy screamed ‘nepotism hire.’
Javier put him in his place before they even sat down and made it clear he was the one in charge here—possibly scaring him too much because the kid was stuttering and stammering through the whole meeting.
Glancing at his watch, he saw the hour was finally up.
“Well,” he said, interrupting the agent as he closed the files before him, putting them into a stack. “I’ve got another appointment to get to.” Standing, he took off his glasses, sliding them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and picked up the manila folders. “It was nice to meet you in person, and we’ll see how your suggestions play out.” They wouldn’t. “Doors this way.” He held out his arm toward it.
The agent looked relieved it was over, quickly putting his things away in his brown leather briefcase and letting Javier usher him out of the room.
They paused just outside the door.
“Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me, sir,” Jesse said, holding out his hand that Javier quickly shook.
“Yeah.”
“My, uh—“ He scratched at the back of his neck. “—My nana sends her regards.”
That had Javier’s eyebrows pulling together as he tried to figure out who he could possibly be talking about.
“Your… nana...?”
“Yes, my grandma Noonan. She was a former ambassador in Colombia…”
Javier huffed out a breath—there it was, the reason this kid was hired. His grandma was a real hardass but pretty decent at her job, and with her connections, it’s no wonder her grandson had such an important assignment.
“Yeah, I remember your nana. You give her my best. Thanks for stopping by.”
The younger man nodded, retreating down the hallway.
Javier sure as fuck didn’t miss the DEA and their bullshit, the meeting turning out to be just as irritating as he’d expected it to be. He’d been prepared for the questions and had the files to back up his answers and prove they’d been working their asses off.
The only good thing about this was that the kid would probably leave him alone now, or at the very least only be in contact when necessary, which is what Javier hoped.
Once the agent disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, his eyes closing for a moment.
He didn’t actually have another appointment. It was lunchtime for him and the woman he loved, who he needed to talk to in order to calm his nerves.
“Never thought I’d see you again.” That voice hadn’t spoken to him since he uncovered just how corrupt the Colombian government was. His eyes flew open, turning his head toward them.
“Why the fuck am I seeing you, Stechner?” he practically spat out.
Bill Stechner looked balder and his beard longer, standing half a dozen steps from him down the hall. His appearance had Javier’s heart speeding up and jaw clenching, knowing that nothing good would come from this.
The older man walked a little closer as he spoke, holding a file in one hand and the other in his pocket, “I was in the neighborhood on business and heard you were working here. Wanted to stop by and see how my old friend was doing.”
His eyes narrowed.
“We’ve never been friends, and how I’m doing is none of your fucking business.”
“What? I can’t be happy for you?”
Javier’s blood ran cold—what the fuck did he know?
Stechner removed the hand from his pocket to open the folder. “You know,” he continued, glancing down at it. “That girl of yours is too good for you.”
Dread came over him, feeling the heaviness of it in his gut and having to swallow hard because there was a chance he might throw up.
“I know she is,” he answered.
“No, no, I mean she’s really too good for you and is another woman with questionable taste in men. Did you know she graduated top of her class in college?” He didn’t. “She had the pick of any hospital in the country, and she chose Dallas, which, let me tell you, is quite far from her family, but I’m sure you know that.” He did. “Speaking of her family—” Stechner flipped a page. “—talk about notoriety and wealth. I’m honestly surprised you live in that tiny condo with all of the money she has. Looking at this, she should be with a doctor, or a surgeon, hell, even someone from a family as affluent as hers.” An opinion her parents shared. “I’m not seeing why she’d choose a disgraced farmer boy.” His teeth clenched, the sentence repeating over and over in his head, ‘Because she loves me. Because she loves me.’ The other man looked up to meet his eyes. “But you, the only reason you’re with her is the money, right? Because someone like you isn’t the settling down type. You can’t stick to just one woman, and with that kind of cash, you can afford more pussy than you were paying for with Uncle Sam’s money in Colombia.”
What money? What money was he talking about?
The jabs about his sex life were fine; he was used to it, but he was beyond confused at being accused of only dating Cielito for her money since he’d seen her bank statements—they sat at their kitchen table writing checks to pay bills together every month, and balance their checkbooks. Her accounts weren’t anything crazy, and his savings was even bigger than hers from not having to pay for a lot in Colombia. Her job did make more than his, though; that was a fact and understandable with the work she did.
But she wasn’t some millionaire, which was what was being implied.
Maybe he was assuming that since her family had money, she did, too?
Too bad his research didn’t tell him her relationship with her family was strained with them all being a bunch of uptight, snobby dicks and that there was a chance she’d been written out of her parents' wills due to her life choices (dating him)—so, she didn’t have access to their money.
Everything else Stechner said had him taken aback at how he’d managed to tug at Javier’s relationship insecurities—he knew he wasn’t good enough for her, that his career was lacking, his wealth was mediocre, that his past should be a glaring red flag.
But she still chose him despite it all.
Despite it all, she still loved only him.
His face had heated as it pinched in anger at the fucking audacity of this fucker trying to mess with his relationship, rage roiling in his belly that Stechner misused his authority with the CIA to get information on his future wife and invade her privacy.
“I don’t owe you any explanations,” he gritted out. “Leave me and her the fuck alone.”
“Oh, you didn’t know about the money.” The file closed in his hand. “Like how she didn’t know about all you did in Colombia? I could tell I caught her off guard when I brought it up.”
Panic erupted inside him, his eyes widening, papers scattering on the floor when he dropped the folders in his hand to take the strides and grab the other man by his dark green jacket lapels, slamming him into the wall. “What did you tell her?!” The words roared from his throat.
His mind was racing, thinking of all Stechner could’ve told her and knowing without a doubt he’d twist things to make Javier look like a heartless monster—he was so fucking scared he could cry.
It irritated him how calmly the other man spoke. “Well, I couldn’t believe she didn’t know why you weren’t there to catch Escobar with how ‘serious’ you two are and figured it must’ve slipped your mind, so I just told her the truth of how you got a lot of innocent civilians murdered by helping Los Pepes—men, women, children. I also brought a copy of Judy’s interview for her to read as proof.”
This was his worst nightmare.
That interview pinned all of the leaked intelligence to Los Pepes on him when they were also getting it from other high-ranking members of Search Bloc, the police force in Colombia dedicated to taking down drug lords. It made him look responsible for all of the carnage and innocent casualties, including the war that happened between Pablo Escobar and Los Pepes that had the former setting off a bomb at a busy shopping center a week before schools were starting, killing a bunch of kids.
“You’re looking awfully pale, Javier,” Stechner continued. “Do you need to sit down?”
He didn’t have a chance to explain the truth to her.
She was going to leave him over his past mistakes. There was no way she’d want to be with someone who fucked up so badly—he was going to lose her, and his heart felt like it was breaking into a million tiny pieces he’d never be able to put back together.
He was spiraling, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he let go of the man, turning around with his face in his hands, screaming into them FUCK!
Why was this happening to him? Why was Stechner trying to ruin the only good thing in his life? Was this payback for disobeying and taking down the Cali cartel? For revealing the corruption in Colombia? Or was this just for his own fucked up amusement?
His entire world was crumbling. He should’ve told her sooner. She should’ve heard all of this from him and gotten the truth.
She was everything to him, and without her, he was nothing.
He had nothing left to lose if he already lost her, and now he was just angry and fucking tired of people ruining his life. His blood was boiling, rage bubbling up inside him over this vindictive motherfucker who wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone.
His hands fell, and he turned on his heel to face the bastard.
“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he said.
Stechner smiled. “What’s that?”
His right fist was tightly clenched, and then he swung, hearing and feeling the sickening crunch as it connected with the other man’s face, who yelped in pain.
Javier was numb, shaking out his hand as it flexed at his side while Stechner tried to staunch the bleeding coming from his nostrils, the file he had tucked under his arm.
Javier glared, his tone menacing as he raised a finger, “Leave me and her the fuck alone. If I see you around here again—” He jabbed the other man in the chest. “—I’m getting a fucking restraining order.”
“I could have you arrested for assaulting a government agent.” He sounded nasally.
“And how will the CIA feel about one of their agents using government means to harass a civilian? You get me arrested, you lose your fucking job for being a creep. Leave. Us. The. Fuck. Alone. You got what you wanted. She’s probably at the apartment packing my shit as we speak.” He snatched the folder from Stechner. “I’m taking this—now fuck off.”
With that, he turned around, his heart pounding, heading to where he dropped his files.
Sheriff Arturo’s assistant, Joy, came out of the conference room, holding her notepad to her chest with wired-rimmed glasses on her freckled face. He’d forgotten she’d been taking notes for her boss at the meeting.
“Go to the hospital and talk to her,” she said. “I’ll clean up the mess here and make sure he—” She glared at Stechner. “—is escorted out of the building.” Her eyes came back to him, the fresh college graduate looking worried, when she continued, “Whatever is going on sounds bad, and you need to go right now and fix it, Javi. Go to her! Hurry!”
She was right.
“Thank you,” he replied and started jogging down the maze of hallways to get out of the building.
By the time he made it to his truck, sweat was coating his forehead, and he didn’t bother putting on his sunglasses, tossing the file Stechner had on the passenger seat, the tires screeching as he turned onto the roadway. His hand tightly squeezed the steering wheel while the other dug his phone out of his pocket, holding it up to his ear as he speed-dialed Cielito.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging system—”
“Fuck,” he hissed, redialing.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Your call—” He hit the end call button, glancing at the clock on his dashboard.
She should be on lunch right now and have her phone.
She should be answering.
She always answered.
She always answered.
He dialed again.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Dread filled him once more.
“Your call—” He clicked the end button.
Was she screening his calls? Was she letting him go to voicemail?
Was she done with him? Was this all over? Was she even going to be at the hospital when he got there? Or did she leave work early to go home and pack his things?
He didn’t want to call her work, but he needed to know if he was heading to the right place, scrolling through his cellphone’s phone book until he found the number he was looking for and pushed call.
Ring.
“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo, how may I direct your call?”
“Post-op nurse’s station.”
“One moment.”
Ring.
Ring.
“Post-op. Robyn speakin’,” her cheery voice answered.
He let out a relieved breath.
Robyn would know where she was at.
“Robyn, it’s Javi—“
“She can’t talk right now,” she interrupted in a serious tone, her change in demeanor jolting him and making his stomach drop.
“Just…” His throat felt tight, swallowing hard while his eyes watered. “Just tell me if she’s there, please,” he all but begged.
“Of course she’s here.”
“Okay… Thank you…” he numbly replied, ending the call and setting the phone on the bench seat beside him.
A tear rolled down his cheek.
“Fuck!” he shouted, hitting the steering wheel.
How was it that hours ago, his life had been perfect?
Everything had finally fallen into place—he’d found the perfect woman who loved him and who he loved; he’d gotten his mother’s ring from his dad the day before and was going to take it to the jewelry store Monday to have it sized and altered, actively planning how he was going to propose so it’d be perfect.
She deserved perfection.
He’d been living the fucking dream, and now he wasn’t even sure if he still had a girlfriend.
She wasn’t answering his calls, and she’d roped in her friend to keep him from talking to her.
She promised him she’d still love him after finding out about his past, and he believed it, but he also knew Stechner was a sadistic prick, and Javier didn’t know what she’d been told—what lies, and exaggerations were said to make him look as horrible as possible.
It must’ve been jarring for her, and she wanted space—what she needed was to hear the truth, the whole truth of everything he went through down there, that he should’ve fucking told her months ago. He felt like a real piece of shit that he put her in this position. Javier knew her better than anyone else, and had she known about Los Pepes, and all the other shit he’d been keeping from her, he knew for a fact she would’ve sniffed Stechner out right away and ripped him to fucking pieces for trying to sabotage their relationship. But she didn’t know, and that rat bastard got what he wanted.
The traffic light turned green, and he laid on the horn when the car in front of him didn’t immediately go, passing them when he could as he sped over the speed limit.
All he could think about was how he had to get to her and straighten this all out—hell, if he needed to, Steve could corroborate everything he was going to tell her.
He would fix this. He had to fix this.
There was no other option.
He couldn’t go back to how he was living before her, which wasn’t living at all; it was just existing with no purpose. There was a purpose now; there was more than a purpose, expanding to hopes and dreams for their future together.
She was his sun, shining brightly, giving him life, warmth, and helping him grow. He was her moon, faithfully following her anywhere she’d go, reflecting her radiant love, loving her day and night in her best and worst moments.
He loved her more than anything, and he would do whatever it took to make this right.
His eyes were burning.
“Tengo miedo, amá (I’m scared, mom),” he whispered under his breath. “Me duele el corazón (My heart is hurting). No puedo perderla, amá (I can’t lose her, mom). La amo más que a nada en el mundo y no puedo vivir sin a ella (I love her more than anything in the world and I can’t live without my her).” Tears fell down his cheeks. “¿Puedes hablar con alguien en el cielo o dondequiera que estés (Can you talk to someone in heaven or wherever you are)? ¿Por favor, amá (Please, mom)?” He wiped at his face, sniffling. “¿Por favor (Please)? La amo y haré cualquier cosa para recuperarla de vuelta (I love her and I will do anything to get her back).”
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You’ve Got my Body, Flesh, and Bone Part One
Summary: You didn’t think you would let it go this far, but alcohol always gives you the bite to challenge Colby until you’re both faced with the things that keep you from being together.
Warnings: Colby x Reader smut, Angst, Slow Burn, Dom/Sub dynamic, Best Friends to Lovers, slight Predator/Prey kink, Overstimulation, Bondage, Overstimulation, slight Subspace
Words: 23.4k
No Y/N Used
Title is from ‘The Summoning’ by Sleep Token
Part Two
Don’t get me wrong, I loved my friends to death and back and then some, but they could be real fucking idiots sometimes.
Most of the time.
Perhaps I simply had a more conservative outlook on the dating culture in LA, or maybe I was traumatized enough where my hopeless romantic naive middle school girl heart turned into an all or nothing brittle young adult woman heart. Nothing was wrong with that, I didn’t think, until I moved to LA to live closer to my new friends.
I met them after my YouTube and Instagram exploded, which I know I said I would never do, but they truly were the most amazing people I met.
My friendship with Sam and Colby didn’t end after they invited me and one of my friends to film a video with them. I knew who they were; we interacted on social media plenty of times but never communicated privately. I also was keen on truly finding out more about the spiritual realm, so when I followed them into that haunted mansion, there was no room for bullshit.
I guess they respected that because not even 24 hours later, Colby was asking for my number.
Maybe I was an idiot and gave it to him.
I genuinely thought it was purely so we could have an easier time than clogged dm’s to collaborate again. And it was. We strictly talked about spirituality and paranormal activity for six months. I always asked about their investigations and he always enthusiastically responded.
I enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it.
The messages developed into something else, something with seemingly less purpose, in the autumn. I remember it being mid October when Colby sent a photo of himself. It looked like any other Snapchat or Instagram story he would post, but then I looked on his social media and realized that this photo was taken just for me.
Which was fine; I didn’t think twice about it. In fact, I felt excited because he trusted me enough to ask about the new merch sample they received. Of course it looked good and there were now flaws to pick out. I picked out a couple to make sure he stayed humble. Of course they were lies.
I learned a month before that they had private socials for their friends only. And, oh. The amount of tomfoolery that went on behind that firewall was better than the latest show I binged. For one, I didn’t realize that Colby saw a different girl basically every night. At least I think they were different girls.
At heart, I’m 100 percent a girl’s girl and I will always see the value in every girl but goddamn; I didn’t realize how easy it was to make yourself look exactly like someone else. I mean, down to the exact shade of brunette hair, body type, and sometimes eye color? It felt like I was the delusional one and tripping out on his new girlfriend. That wasn’t what it was though. A different girl was tagged everytime.
The boys weren’t unfamiliar with posting edgier photos whether it be in the middle of an abandoned place that could crumble and kill them before they thought to react, or it be them posing with minimal clothing or some kind of flirtatious caption in the description. Those weren’t bad things, but they were new to me, and honestly, it kind of melted down the anxiety I built in my head about posting new photos on Instagram. Suddenly it didn’t feel like I had to be perfect and get the perfect shot anymore; a lot of it was shock factor.
Which the boys did exceptionally well.
My friends bulldozed their way through the beginning of 2024. It was entertaining, to say the least, but when I saw photos of their New Year’s party, I was taken back by how minimal they turned out. I came across four photos. A girl kissed Sam at midnight, Colby’s arm was around a girl’s waist, the two of them with probably nine other people in a cute group shot, and the last one was them outside the club the party was at—darkened city streets and palm trees that glistened with New Year’s sparkles and confetti were behind them—and I loved those photos. All of them.
But they weren’t the full picture. Definitely not the full picture.
I vividly remember turning the corner with friends into one of the secluded cut outs of lounge space. My best friend and I tried to find more friends and, well, we found them. Firstly, I would admit that the music was so loud I felt the bass in my bones, so maybe that had something to play. I also was in the double digits of how many combined drinks and shots I had, so there was that as well.
But when we turned the corner, I remember the same girl who kissed Sam at midnight was on his lap kissing him again, only this time she fully grinded on him and he didn’t even raise a hand to stop.
Which, okay, to be fair, whatever I don’t care. What caught me off guard was the complete lack of care from everyone else as well. I’m not sure if I have the confidence to practically have sex in a semi-public space with all my friends around me, but whatever.
What bothered me more, somehow, was the way Colby’s hands wouldn’t leave that girl’s skin—the same one he kissed at midnight—and I didn’t know why. Maybe I did, but it was more of a complete annoyance than anything. Maybe some disapproval as well.
He was with someone different just the night before—it was on his Instagram story—and he hooked up with the same girl multiple times during the trip we all took during Christmas. At least he was with her for an entire week rather than one day.
It wasn’t my business though, so naturally, I didn’t give a fuck nor did I say a word. It was so easy to behave like it didn’t affect me in any way or leave a bad taste in my mouth, because it didn’t.
”Hey!” I instantly broke into a smile when Tara met us halfway from the couches and drinks and friends and confetti and the making out— “Where have you guys been?”
”We had drinks and kind of got lost dancing with people,” I laughed. It was the truth and considering the flush in our cheeks and the more unkempt pieces of hair down our backs, Tara didn’t question it. Her hand linked with mine and she dragged us to the left side of the room; black leather couches lined in a semicircle.
And that was when the night truly began.
It also finished there when one of us passed out; I don’t remember who but I swear it wasn’t me.
My night finished when I emptied my guts on the street outside. I think Tara’s hands were in my hair and Colby’s voice was quiet and close to me. I’m pretty sure the sun was rising when we stepped foot in that Uber.
So that was as far as my friendship with Sam and Colby had gone. They were fantastic at their jobs, cared deeply about their work, and cared even more about the supernatural and what’s beyond, and they partied hard.
It was true. I scanned over the last few messages between us. I didn’t mean to leave Colby on read. Something sprouted in me from that moment. I couldn’t fully comprehend what it was. Maybe it was the abrasiveness of the photo, or maybe it was because I didn’t anticipate Colby ever crossing that imaginary boundary. This photo didn’t just cross it, he shot a hundred yards past and then some.
That look in his eyes—the subtle desperation in his text—something, somewhere, did it for me.
It was completely unsolicited as well. Well, unwarranted at least. Once I saw the photo it was solicited in every way imaginable. I didn’t understand where those intense feelings came from. It was intangible.
My stomach soured inside of me. It had me spiraling. Every look, every touch; Colby hardcore gave himself away. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want it, no, not even that.
It was the fact that I loved it.
That caught me off guard. That nearly scared me.
It was no secret that a while ago, before we even interacted on social media, Colby drunkenly uncovered some too-personal details on the internet. And of course the internet ran wild with them. It kind of became part of his persona which he bravely embraced—which I admired because if I were in his situation, I would coil up and die—and it surpassed the internet’s perception of him as well.
But the underlying tone of his photo, of his text, completely betrayed that persona I was familiar with.
So I waited.
And waited.
I didn’t mean to leave him on read before the photo, but after he sent it, I left him on read with purpose in order to see what came of it. If he was willing to send that one desperate photo after an accidental ignoring, what would he do if it was deliberate?
It wasn’t very dominant of him to lace his photos and matching words with yearning like that.
I groaned as I rolled over in my chilling duvet. My arms stretched above me and my vision darkened. Damn right it was 6am, and I innocently woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep so I checked my phone. It still lodged in my stretched hand.
It buzzed again.
Unfortunately, he and I both knew that he was right.
I rolled out of bed and my legs tangled in the slick white sheets.
I haphazardly made my way into my en suite and flicked on the light. The eye bags were out to say hello this morning, which checked out. I was nearly 27; why the hell did I allow a grown man to get me out of bed to go outside before my body willed.
”Jesus Christ,” I gasped at his behavior. So, naturally, I snapped a photo of myself in the mirror.
‘Better?’ I typed and hit send with trembling hands.
He didn’t respond.
My heart pounded.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have sent that.
If he spits out his own medicine then he shouldn’t have offered it to me.
With shaking hands, I got myself ready as requested.
It hadn’t always been like this even though it felt so.
Our relationship evolved and with every text, it dramatically developed into something more than a professional one. Like a friendship, at the very least, and now here I was finding myself lacing my shoes for this man before seven am to go to some… place.
Eight days ago we came back from a long trip of filming content for their channel.
Five days ago Sam asked us to go pick up shit for this party that was forgotten in transit or something. It was the first time we were alone together, and while the task was simple and mundane, it was fun.
Fun enough for me to say yes to him all the time apparently, because four days ago, Colby asked me to come to a photo shoot for their next merch launch.
Three days ago, Sam, Colby and I went out with Tara, Jake and Johnnie and took photos afterward.
Two days ago we partied hard with the gang again.
And yesterday, well, yesterday I went to Sam and Colby’s house for no reason.
We had breakfast, relaxed for once, and did nothing.
Nothing was so entirely great.
Now when I left my apartment that morning, he was already there waiting for me. We didn’t live close enough to walk, but maybe two exits at most from each other.
“Wow you look so happy to see the sun,” Colby remarked. My squinted eyes glared back at him. I forgot to change my hair from its bed head state in any way. A piece of it dangled in front of my eye bags. He only laughed back at me.
“I’m here. I didn’t say I would be happy about it.”
”Don’t worry, you will be soon.” I didn’t respond because I didn’t want to get too snappy. I knew I was joking, but the lack of caffeine and over abundance of morning light did not fare well in me.
”Here is this,” he said before he even gave me a thick enough pause to reply. I looked over and he pulled an energy drink from behind my chair. It was cold. “Palatable offering, I hope.”
”It is,” I laughed and snapped it open.
For an early morning, it was fairly a quick drive on the freeway to this mystery location.
”We’re flying to Australia soon.”
”Oh really?” I gasped and looked over at him. The sun brightened this side of his face. ”Damn.”
”Yeah, we’ve put it off for so long and it’s finally happening. We’re so excited.”
”I bet. Wait, when are you leaving?”
”Six days.”
”That is really soon.” His eyes widened with a sigh.
”Yeah.”
”What, unprepared?”
”As much as we should be prepared already considering how long we’ve wanted to go, yes. Very much so unprepared. We’ve been running around like crazy trying to get things in order at any time we can.”
”So this morning?” He shook his head. I hadn’t looked away from him for a second as we spoke. He kept his eyes on the road.
”How dare I take a tiny break for myself.”
”Naturally you invite me then?”
”I suppose.” By the quiet tone of his voice, I didn’t push. I didn’t prod or step across a line.
I don’t think I even stepped on it. I ran away from it.
”DId Tara mention that we’re going to New York and staying there until Tana and Brooke get there while on tour?”
”Oh shit, no she didn’t. Wait, she did go on their podcast recently.”
”Yeah. Two weeks ago she did. I went with her and we talked for so long. We literally canceled our next plans and decided that we would catch up again in New York when they got there. I think they have a good five days off or something to stay there a week.”
”Oh sweet, when are you leaving?”
”March second.”
”Oh shit, that’s the day we get back from Australia.”
”Oh really?”
There was silence.
“And when do you get back?”
”The plan is to be back by March 12th but we’ll see if that happens.” For the first time since he gave me the drink, he stole a glance from me.
”You’ll see?”
”Tara was talking about going to uh—God I forgot, a specific place, though, for spring break with some other girls too. I think we may be back to re-pack and then head there.”
”Oh okay, okay.” My stomach swarmed with butterflies. I couldn’t pinpoint why. I was overly excited for our trips; it had been a while since I went anywhere for a break and to spend time with myself and the girls, and myself and the girls only.
We parked.
It was a bit farther than I anticipated, but there were less people and mainly lone hikers who risked more of a challenge in the early morning. I didn’t mind. I was simply here for the ride and grateful that I could keep up with Colby.
”Sam and I came here a while ago because we saw it and were curious. It’s a really nice place for photos and to walk in silence.”
”Oh silence. I love that.”
”Yeah,” he laughed. “I know.”
So we walked in silence.
The hills rolled and seemed to touch the skies in some places. Even in the winter chill, the sun warmed my face and within ten minutes both of our hoodies came off. Dust emitted from the ground but stayed. It was dry as hell and not as windy as usual so we were covered in it.
“This way,” he said and we veered to the left up a steeper route of white rock. Thistles of cacti and various plants I was afraid to touch nipped at our ankles as we calculated our steps on the small jut outs lodged in the hill.
Then, near the top and to the right, Colby reached a eight to twelve foot—I wasn’t quite sure—plateau. It wasn’t a long drop to our ground, per say, but the sun’s light was cut from where I stood. I basked in the shade as Colby climbed up with his long ass nimble legs.
”Here,” he said and his hand reached to mine. I climbed the first few feet of rocks before taking his hand.
Maybe I should not have been as enthusiastic to hold his rough dirty hand if even for a few split moments.
Once on top, there was another few yards of elevation until we reached the peak that I supposed he and Sam found before. They weren’t wrong. This portion of the hill was fairly tall compared to the rest, and while we stood in the dusty rocks of the peak, the other side was a grassy downslope that fell straight towards the valley from which we came. Morning light streaked across the city in pinks and oranges while the tips of buildings and hills on the other side of the city reflected mature midday sun.
Maybe getting out of bed this morning wasn’t all that bad.
“Oh my god, you were right. This is a fantastic place.”
”See?” He replied happily. “And there’s really no one who comes out this far.”
”I know. Maybe we should come back for photos since you left me out the first time.”
”Well when we do come back for photos, you will have been here the same amount we have so it’s like we didn’t leave you out.”
”What are you talking about? You’re here now.”
”Well… It’s fine. We’ll still come back.”
More silence.
I sat down first. Colby sat next to me and leaned back on his hands.
“Right that way,” Colby started as he pointed quite to the right of us; east. “Sam and I filmed this one video. I don’t think we can see the plateau very well from here, but it was the one where this guy in a cloak threw a cross over us and into the valley.”
”Oh shit, wait,” I gasped. “I remember that.”
”Yeah,” he scoffed. “Sometimes I think about all the weird stuff that happens at night only for the morning to feel so peaceful.”
“It’s almost as if your mind plays tricks on you.” He gave me a look.
”Wow, I guess Sam and I and also the camera hallucinated that damn cross.”
”Oh my god,” I laughed. “No but, he threw that thing damn far.”
”I know! It was even crazier in person because it wasn’t light when we picked it up.” I looked back to the valley. The white rocks descended into purples and blues where a few highways entered and exited.
”Do you think he’s the reason you got all scratched up?”
”Oh god, I have no idea.”
”Or do you think whatever it is just stays here?” Colby shrugged but kept his gaze across the sea of hills. I could tell; he tried to identify the property they were on but couldn’t.
”I don’t know. If it does, it sure isn’t in charge of the morning, is it?”
”No.” My voice was quiet.
My heart pounded.
When would it get a rest?
I opened my mouth before I thought about it.
”Why didn’t you bring Sam?” My seriousness was probably enough to tell him that I meant bringing him in this moment instead. He shook his head before he spoke.
”I didn’t—It’s not that I didn’t bring him. I just wanted you to come.”
”Oh. I see.”
“You said yes,” he laughed.
”Maybe I just like doing nothing with you. All we do it work and run around like crazy all the time.”
”That’s true.”
Another pause.
”This weekend was really nice though,” I admitted. He looked at me. I didn’t look back.
”It was, I think.”
”Because yeah we probably got too fucked up on Friday and Saturday nights, but just relaxing and not doing anything with you guys is actually nice.”
”You say that as if you expected it to be awful.” I smiled and shot him a look.
“No I don’t. I just mean that it’s nice to see you—all of you—not stressed until you want to drink yourself to death.” Colby sighed.
”No, you’re right.”
”I know I’m right.”
”Yeah, and humble.”
“Shut up,” I laughed and shoved his arm slightly. It gave out and he caught himself.
When we straightened ourselves and leaned back like we were, his hand accidentally landed close to mine. It didn’t touch me, but I felt the warmth between us.
This silence was still. Brutally, peacefully, still.
My tongue clamped to the roof of my mouth. I heard my heartbeat in my ears. As I tried to find something within the horizon to take interest in, the corner of my eye caught the expression on his face. He too looked forward, eyebrows pressed serious, and lips parted.
I would think he was lost in thought and had been for a while now.
As I looked at him slowly, his finger ever so slightly lifted and came over mine. I don’t think it covered but half of my finger, and I wasn’t sure if he touched it all that much. But it was there and I waited for the weight of it.
”Let’s get up. You haven’t posted on Instagram in, what? Three months? Why should we wait to take pictures later?”
”Bitch,” I gasped and sat forward. He looked at me. His eyes were still thoughtful and dark. But his mouth lifted to a smile. “I look like shit.”
”No you don’t.”
I left it at that.
A handful of photos—for both of our feeds—later, and we coasted down the hill twice as fast as we came up. My ankles were almost too weak to handle it from the photo session. I tensed my entire body to shake the thoughts away. My hands were so slick by the time it was my turn to snap photos of him that I thought I would drop his phone. I held my breath the second his shirt came up and off his body. I only really stared at the screen.
There was something about that moment that seemed too close, too serious, for me to look at him not through a screen.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen him half dressed before; it was basically his everyday wear. For some reason though, out by ourselves alone in the valley made it seem ten times more intimate. I’ve been alone with him in his bedroom when he hardly wore clothes, I’ve fallen asleep next to him on flights, in beds, on sofas.
It wasn’t like this. My eyes couldn’t retreat from the areas the sun reflected on his skin.
When we got in the car, suddenly it was stuffy and hot, and we tossed our clothes to the backseat before Colby turned the A/C on high.
”Jesus Christ, it’s February!” He shouted. I laughed and held onto my drink. Of course it was flat and not cold anymore but it was something for my aching throat.
I forced myself to look forward even as his hand subconsciously met the back of my chair when he began to back from the parking space. Even with the over abundance of cameras on this damn car, he still never used them.
“Aw shit,” Colby laughed as he looked at his phone.
”What?”
”Sam asked where the fuck I was.”
”Oh my god—“
”And then just asked to grab food on the way back.”
”Let’s get food then.”
I spent the rest of the day with them.
When I walked into their spare bathroom downstairs, I paused as I turned on the lights.
My hair was a mess, my tan popped against the dark sports bra that caked with dust, and in the reflection were sun dazed eyes. Then I looked to the counter and the room spun.
Half of my make up and products I used to get ready sprawled across the granite counter. I forgot that on Saturday night I got ready here before we went out, and Tara sat in the bathtub eating her dinner and entertained me while I did so. My shampoo, conditioner, and body wash were in the shower. I looked back at myself in the mirror.
My towel hung behind me.
”Come on!”
“I’m hurrying!”
”Let’s go!”
”Fucking trying, bitch!”
”You’re walking!”
The door slammed.
”Impatient animals, Jesus fuck,” Tara sighed. She turned back to me. I backed away from the mirror.
“Wait we look hot let me—“ And Tara grabbed her phone and snapped mirrors selfies with the both of us before we exited the bathroom.
”Just put your shoes on in the car or else Sam will leave us here,” I told Tara. My shoes were also in my hand.
”Right, right,” she grumbled. “Coming.” I stood at the front door and waited for her. I scowled at the raging black clouds in the sky. There was no way we would make it into the studio before the storm began. “Surprisingly my ex-boyfriend would never treat me like this,” she grumbled as she hopped past me. I scoffed a laugh.
”Yeah because he knew he’d get his ass beat.”
”I mean you’re not wrong.”
We hopped in the back seats of Sam’s car, and that was how we started the last night we all had together before over a month of separate travels.
To be fair, we were running over 30 minutes behind to get the photoshoot we should have been ultra prepared for. We planned it nearly six days ago after Sam complained about not being a part of our morning photoshoot in the hills. Tara came along because, obviously.
Bickering was the only way for us to relieve the stress of not getting into the car as soon as we needed.
”If I find another one of these in the car, I’m fucking throwing it away,” Colby spat and chunked whatever tube of makeup into the bag Sam held.
”Excuse me, that was mine—“
”Was,” Colby cut me off with a little too much emphasis.
”I’m pretty sure they stopped making those—“
”God fucking thank you then. Now I don’t have to throw one away everytime I climb back here to get shit.”
”You throw them away?” I cried. Colby glared at me from where he leaned inside the trunk of his car.
“Yeah? They would end up crawling back over here anyway.” I rolled my eyes at the muted pitch of his voice.
We stood at the back of the car for all but ten seconds while we each grabbed different things for the photoshoot and the podcast we were about to film and within those ten seconds, the angry clouds decided it was a good time to rain down on us.
As Colby slammed the back shut, I followed Tara straight for the door to the back of the studio. She already was safe under the patio cover.
The tension in the air wasn’t funny or a joke anymore.
I repeated the expression I saw on Sam’s face in my head when I whirled around and followed Tara. He wasn’t messing around anymore. He didn’t look at me and only stared at Colby waiting for his next command.
Needless to say, it never came.
Colby didn’t say another word until we were on the set.
It had been a few minutes. We caught our breaths while our hair and makeup were freshened. Tara and I gossiped between ourselves to calm down and keep ourselves occupied.
And then it was time for photos.
This morning we woke up late. We went out last night and didn’t set alarms. With two podcasts and a photoshoot scheduled, the day started off high stress. We scrambled to get ourselves to the podcast. We surprisingly were only ten minutes late.
This time, however, we somehow were not as lucky.
Between getting food, driving across the city, and changing, we didn’t get enough time in between the first podcast and the photoshoot. Of course this used up the last of Colby’s patience. He was snappy and unapproachable because it was supposed to work, and now, other people had been waiting for us and the podcast was pushed back as well.
Sam and I were wholeheartedly fine with taking the brunt of it too.
But by the time I walked on set, my own frustration pooled in my stomach. Colby’s eyes still flared angry and spiteful even as I looked at them. He blinked a few times before he looked away.
We posed and were posed by the photographers for such a long time, I was tired of pretending to smile and, honestly, I was simply tired of being perceived in such a vulnerable way. Sure, the other three were more used to it, especially Sam and Colby, but damn. I was fatigued and dizzied with alternating emotions.
Tara and I posed alone together next which was alleviating.
My brain turned off.
Then it was Sam and Colby’s turn alone.
My brain turned on when Sam gestured me over.
I wanted to coil up and rot in my bed. I was tired, Colby stressed me out, Sam was snappy with me, and Tara just wanted to sleep. We were falling apart, but when I came back to them, they were somehow brighter. They talked to and cooperated with the photographer more, and the three of us got shots that I was actually excited about.
What numbed me and gave me a second wind was the feeling of Colby’s hands on my waist, him against my side, and our backs to each other. He grabbed my arm during a pose set up and I swore my skin melted to the bone. I felt it through the rest of the day.
Then, we changed and did it all over again.
An hour later, we were leaving the studio when Colby got the call.
The last podcast was canceled.
No one talked when we piled in the car. It was pure silence, and I looked in the rear view mirror slowly. I watched Colby. He looked down at his phone and texted for a little while until he started music. Then he looked up. His eyes locked on mine.
No one spoke. Neither of us looked away. He didn’t look happy, to say the least.
”What are we going to do?” Sam sighed. The only one brave enough to speak to Colby was him obviously; he was the only one Colby wouldn’t kick out of the car. Probably.
”I don’t know,” he sighed and looked away from me and adjusted how he sat. His head hit the head rest. “I’m fucking tired and done with today.”
”Let’s just go out.”
”Again?” I gasped. The burning in my throat from last night returned.
“It’s Saturday night and I know a group’s about to get dinner before hitting a couple clubs,” Tara said as her eyes still locked on her phone. I looked back at Colby. He was already looking at me. I looked back at Tara.
”I mean, we have to be at the airport at five in the morning.”
”We’ll sleep on the plane.”
”Being hungover on a plane doesn’t seem like a fun way to fly.”
”You’re flying regardless,” Colby intervened. I looked back at him. His eyes were thinner, darker. “Let’s just go.”
”Fine.”
And that’s how we ended up drunker than we ever had.
I was hungover before I finished my umpteenth shot, Tara was on the table, and Sam found the girl he had been talking to. Of course she was a part of our group now; the group Tara texted.
The haze in Colby’s eyes calmed me down. He spoke enthusiastically and smiled more than not. Finally, it felt like we wound down to our regular selves again.
“Come on!”
“I really can’t—“
”Please! It’s our last time here for a while, let’s just have fun!”
”Tara, I can’t even walk straight without running into things. What makes you think I can dance?”
”Everyone’s so close anyway, you don’t have to hold yourself up.” Her arms yanked me out of the sofa before another protest had the time to settle. I was followed.
I didn’t know by who, but I felt the presence behind me as we made our way across the dark club. Finally, Tara led me across the threshold of the dance floor. Then she spun around and didn’t let go of my hand.
Her eyes lifted behind me. An evil smile pulled at her mouth.
”What’s wrong—“
”Nothing,” she cut me off, and pulled me from looking behind me. “Come on.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I felt the music reverberating through me like a vessel already. If I was going to be in pain all day tomorrow, I might as well make the most of it tonight.
It didn’t take long, but I felt a hand on my arm, a pressure on my body, and I turned around wildly. A face I couldn’t recognize, and Tara yanked me away, closer to her.
I watched her mouth but I couldn’t hear her words. I nodded and smiled in agreement anyway, and danced with her.
And again, hands found my waist, but this time more pressure in places that I definitely didn’t ask for it to be, so I gasped a breath and whipped myself around, but the hands were off of me before I got the chance to see who it was.
I looked up to Colby who shoved someone—the pressure I supposed—behind him. He looked back to the man who grabbed me. Violently, he spoke and shoved again. I didn’t understand what he said but I agreed. Wholeheartedly.
”Colby,” I gasped as if he could hear me.
With the shaking of his head, he stepped into my personal space.
”How did you know I didn’t want to dance with someone?” He scoffed.
“I don’t care if you wanted to or not, clearly you didn’t ask for that.”
”I could have taken care of it.”
”And? That was gross. I was right there.”
Right, Colby followed us to the dance floor. That’s right. I felt his eyes on me the entire time.
”Why were you watching us?”
”Because you’re drunk as hell and both of you are half the size as the majority of people here.” Why did I like the hostility on his tongue? I almost tasted the alcohol that intoxicated him.
”Yeah, that’s all it is, isn’t it?”
”What else would it be?” There it was. That flirty flick up of his eyebrow. We were the only three paused in the sea of dancing bodies.
”Just—Come on,” Tara grumbled and gripped both of our elbows. “Can’t have any fun with you when Colby’s around, can I?”
”What the fuck does that mean?”
Tara didn’t respond.
She went back to friends, but Colby grabbed me and held me back.
Again, his grip was heaven itself there in that hell hole. I spun back to him. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered across my full face before settling on my eyes. Drunken mistakes.
”No, tell me,” he said. Lowly.
”Tell you what?” I scoffed. He rolled his eyes.
”What else would I defend you like that for?” My gaze fell from his eyes, his nose, lips, chest, the floor.
I shook my head.
”I’m drunk as hell.”
”Yeah same,” he sighed. He took a step back. His eyes didn’t leave me though.
”Why do you look at me like that?” He shook his head. Don’t ask the things you don’t want to know about. “Stop looking at—Talk to me,” I demanded.
”You’re so—“ He gritted his teeth and his voice caught in his throat when his hands found my face and held me still. My lips parted fairly widely as shock rose my eyebrows. His eyes looked at me. With intention.
My body caught ablaze, and I didn’t like it. Not this time. This kind of wildfire was destructive; non rebuildable.
”Colby—“
He just looked at me. Even closer. I almost felt the sweetness of his mouth on mine.
”I’m more of an all or nothing kind of girl, Colby, not—not a one and done like you,” I said. My calmest words laced with a poison that furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t do those smash and dashes like you do, so if that’s what you’re looking for, you can go back to those models you fuck every other day because that’s not the kind of body you’ll find here.”
Hurt spread across his face. His hands slowly fell from me, and for the first time, I wanted to take the words back.
“Really?” He gasped. It cut deeper; his hurt. I didn’t mean it.
Maybe I got it all wrong.
”That—Really? That’s what you have to say to me?”
”Colby,” I spat his name through teeth weakened by grit. “Don’t ruin our new friendship, I was liking it way too much.”
”I’m not ruining anything. You don’t know what I want.”
”Then you’re confusing. Too complicated for me.” I stepped away from him. He took a step towards me. “I don’t appreciate my best friends using me.”
”Good. I don’t either.”
”So what’s this?” I gesture to his hands. “Why do you touch me like that? And why does it look like you could kiss me at any moment?”
”Are you projecting or something? Because my wanting to kiss you doesn’t equate to using you.”
A laugh burst from me.
”So when you kissed all those other girls in front of me even after we texted the way we do and after you fucked them, you didn’t use them?” My head cocked to the side in defiance.
Fire blazed in his eyes.
”You’re ridiculous.”
”I am?” I shouted.
”You don’t know anything.”
”Right,” I scoffed. “Not like you’ve made advancements in helping me know something—Colby.”
He grabbed my face like he did and shoved himself back into my space. This time, I felt his front collide into mine. My hands grabbed his wrists.
I froze.
My lips parted the moment his grazed mine.
He caught me. His eyes lifted to mine with a smirk slowly pulled at his dark lips.
“So you talk your shit but you’d still kiss me back?”
”Fuck you,” I spat. He smiled evilly.
”You’d love to, wouldn’t you?” He molded his words over my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth for more.
“Mm, maybe,” I mumbled. His eyes blew wide when I bit down on his bottom lip. “But I would love it more if you didn’t fuck me over after.”
He shook his head quickly.
”I wouldn’t,” I think he gasped so quietly that only by the breath on my skin could I discern his words.
I retracted my teeth and replaced them with my lips.
That was when one of his hands traveled to my messy pulled back hair and he kissed me with such intensity that I’m sure I fell to the ground. A noise escaped my throat but I didn’t back down. I couldn’t when his hands were firm on my body like he knew it already.
So of course I kissed him back like he was mine.
He always was, wasn’t he? I licked into his mouth first, and I think it caught him off guard because a deep moan pressed against my tongue and his thumb jutted under my chin as if to hold me in place. The taste of our drinks mixed in our mouths, and I breathed him in like I needed the hit.
I think he moaned my name; all this time he took a step and then another step into me as if he aimlessly tried to find a stable surface to pin me but couldn’t. He was too drunk to remember that we were in the middle of a bustling club. I ran into someone. I didn’t care.
I took advantage of his leap of shock and my lips wrapped around his tongue. That was when his eyes opened and he slowly looked down at me in surprise when we ever so slowly retract from each other.
”Holy shit,” I thought I heard, and we must have both heard since we both looked over in the direction of our friends.
Sam stared back at us and Tara’s pouty smirk fired directly at me.
Colby took three big steps away from me. Looked at me.
”Colby,” I said but he left me and walked towards Sam.
Sam and Colby walked towards the back door of the club with a dictionary of words between them. Tara stood in front of me.
”It’s 2:30, we gotta go and get ready for our flight.”
”But—But Colby—“
”I know, but we gotta go. Sam was going to be sick.”
I took her hand as she took mine and her friend dropped us off at my house.
The taste of Colby’s lips was the only thing that kept the vomit in the back of my throat.
That sunrise was not kind.
I vomited while packing. I vomited while in the Uber. And again while waiting at the terminal.
At least we got through TSA without a vomit session.
I wanted those hands on me again. To numb the pain. I typically didn’t hurt this bad with a hangover.
I plopped in my seat and Tara already cuddled up into me with her neck pillow and blanket. I checked my phone.
New message from my best friend, but that was it.
I couldn't blame them—to be fair—it was still the night for them, and if Sam had to be sick while at the club, I knew he would be drunk until the late morning and hungover by sundown. Colby on the other hand was drunk, but I couldn’t tell if he was drunk enough to be hungover. I couldn’t read him at all tonight—last night. I understood his mouth perfectly well though, and unfortunately I wanted to communicate more.
Or fortunately? I couldn’t decide quite yet.
I fell asleep before we took off.
When I woke up, the sun blared into the cabin like a lightning rod. I moaned and squinted my eyes, and stretched in my sleep.
”Oh good, you’re up,” Tara said. I looked over at her. Her AirPods were in, a roller was in her hair, and she watched Netflix on her laptop as she filed her nails. “I was getting bored.”
”Jesus Christ, Tara. I’m going to be sick.”
”Ha! No you’re not. Take this.” She handed me a pill and what looked to be an antibacterial wipe. “I don’t give a fuck if you gotta stick that wipe up your nose; you won’t be vomiting on this plane. That’s so embarrassing.”
”Tara,” I moaned and sat up more. The nausea sickened me. I dry swallowed the pill. The alcohol from the wipe did, in fact, aid my hangover bile. ”What time is it?”
”Ten. We’ve been on the flight for like four hours.” I sighed and sat upright in my seat with my eyes clamped shut. My thoughts battled to ward off the nausea. “So, Sam and I walked in on you making out with Colby last night.”
”Oh my god, don’t remind me.”
“What the fuck was that about, huh?”
”God, I have no idea”
”And you didn’t even do anything after as well.” I shot her a glare.
“The fuck you mean ‘do anything?’ Obviously we weren’t going to fuck if that’s what you’re saying.” I rolled my head away from her and leaned it on my hand. It needed physical support too not just emotional.
“What are you talking about?” She laughed. “The tension has been making me sick. I thought you guys were finally going to get it over with.”
That annihilated my ability to ward off nausea.
”I’m going to throw up.”
”Fucking don’t, bitch,” she threatened me with her nail file. “We have to get our nails done in New York because I feel like a dirty girl when we’re going to nice clubs or whatever.”
”We can get them done.” The thought of a nail salon scent quenched the nausea.
”Anyway, about Colby—“
”I do not want to hear that name right now.”
Tara looked at me with concern. A frightening silent concern. The concern was only heavily serious when Tara was quiet.
”He didn’t look happy after he kissed you. What happened?” And how could I lie to that hushed worrisome voice.
”I told him that—oh god what did I say?” I tried to remember as I rubbed my eyes. Thank god Tara convinced me to take off—and also partially helped me—take off my makeup last night. “I said something like I’m not into hooking up like he is—Oh, I’m not a one and done kind of girl. I told him I wanted all of him or nothing.”
”Shit,” Tara gasped. “That’s kind of a lot, isn’t it?”
”I mean he tried to kiss me, Tara! Before we even talked about it.”
”Okay? What’s the problem with that?”
”I really enjoyed our friendship,” I sighed. “I don’t want it bursting into flames. Hanging out with them and working with them is amazing, and once it does inevitably fuck up after we actually date, then I can’t lose them.”
”I know it doesn’t work for everyone, but you could still be friends with them.” I sighed heavily. Tara’s eyes still examined me.
”There’s no way I could feel for Colby the way you do for Jake right now.”
”How come?” I opened my mouth to speak but no words found me. “You—You’re really serious about Colby, aren’t you?”
”Yes, but-but not to say you weren’t serious about—“
”No, I know,” Tara quickly said. “I get it. We’re a lot less unserious after our relationship. We just tried it and it was fun be we aren’t meant to be together romantically.”
”That’s the thing, Tara,” I grumbled and finally looked at her. “How do you not get attached? I’m already scarily attached to him. Fuck; I hate him for it too.” She lips curled in a smirk. “Stop fucking looking at me like that.”
”You are so down bad for that man it’s hilarious.”
”What would be hilarious is if you shut the fuck up.”
”Just admit that you love him so much that you would rather never see him again than not be romantic with him.”
”You’re literally putting words in—Do you not hear the words coming out of my mouth?” Tara rolled her eyes at me and I sighed. I settled in my chair.
“I know. I get it, I do.”
”I just don’t know what I’m going to do, Tara. I already fucked up a lot between us whether we pursue each other or not.”
”How come?”
“I basically called him a slut too.”
”You-You what?” She gasped. She choked back a laugh before it burst out of her. “That is the most diabolical thing—“
”I know it was so wrong of me, but I was drunk and terrified.”
”I know.”
”Tara!” I gasped. “He fucks everything that breathes!” The anger stung my gritted teeth and she parted her lips with surprise. “Do you not fucking see it?” I shout in a whisper. “He has a new fucking partner every damn week which-which whatever, that’s fine, but then he texts me the way he does and it’s like he wants to get in my pants too, just for the sake of it!”
”Whoa, how do you text? Give me your phone.”
”No way.”
”You sent him nudes?”
”What? No!” My blush flared hot. She rolled her eyes.
”I’ve known Colby for so long, it’s nothing I haven’t seen.”
”We haven’t fucking—Wait what the fuck does that mean?”
”Jesus Christ, no need to get wound up. I haven’t fucked him; remember Jake used to live with them. I stayed there weeks at a time.” I nodded and handed her my phone. We really didn’t have anything important to hide.
As she read the texts, my heart quickened. Her silence scared me.
”Oh my god,” she gasped. “The damn tension is even worse in text.”
”Give It back,” I spat and stole it from her. “What tension? We’re just friends.”
”Pf, yeah; friends that are able to make any conversation dirty talk. Now stop being a pussy and-and suck his dick or something.“
”Tara!” I cried. I shoved my phone back in my bag. “There’s no way—No! I-I can’t do that.”
”Oh right, you’re so in love with him you want to have sex with him and let him kiss you all gentle—“ Her silly baby voice physically ignited the fiery anger inside of me.
”Seriously,” I spat and held my hand up. “It’s not like that.”
”Oh,” she gasped. “Right, it’s Colby I forgot. He might not like gentle sex.”
”Nor relationships, so let’s stop speaking about something I can’t have.” Tara looked at me as seconds ticked by.
”You do really like him.” I nodded slowly. “If you liked him enough, then what could come of it would be worth risking ever speaking to him the same way again.”
I stared at her wide eyed.
Where did that wisdom come from?
”Potentially.”
“Then talk to him like an adult. And don’t do it when you’re drunk; you disrespect him like that again and he’ll cut you off without you even getting about to suck his—“
”If you’re so obsessed with his dick, why don’t you suck it yourself?” I spat.
”Damn, alright. He’s yours.”
”He’s not mine,” I spat. “If last night was anything to go by.”
”No no,” Tara exasperated. “You literally have it all wrong. He looked so-so enthralled by you, that you’re already his. That’s why it pissed him off so much.”
”He wouldn’t be pissed off if he talked to me like an adult and didn’t fuck other women.”
”Talk to him.”
”You’re acting like you know something.”
”Obviously neither of them talk to me and I supposed neither of them talk to Johnnie or Jake because those two boneheads are clueless as always.” I smiled. “Talk to him. Both of you attitudes are starting to piss me off. I just want to have fun with my best friends without stepping on eggshells.” She sipped her drink.
”I fucking need one of those.”
”It’s a mimosa.”
”I know.”
”You literally were about to throw up.” I rolled my eyes and kicked back in my seat.
”I need to be drunk again.”
“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” she sighed as she eyed down a flight attendant. “Oh, you’re fucking hot by the way.”
”Exuse me?” I choked on nothing.
”Your tattoos are great, and I can’t believe you sent him and underwear pic.” My face burned.
”That was on accident. I was delusional and got out of bed before I was awake at 6am.”
”Yeah, uh-hu. Keep telling yourself that.” And Tara caught the attendant as she passed us.
Between us and the hangovers, it was easy sailing until touchdown.
When we stepped into the airport, my phone rang off the hook with late messages. Of which, Colby was missed. My stomach did that familiar flip at the sight of his name in my messages.
I stared at my phone wide eyed and breathless, and it must have taken me far too long to get going, because Tara peered over my shoulder.
”Damn, see I told you. He set the stage for you, now speak like an adult.” I looked at her sunglasses covered face. I judged her for looking like a freak wearing Jake’s inappropriately too large hoodie with the hood over the roller in her hair as she wore sunglasses on her face that were big enough to cover a horse’s eyes.
Not like I could judge; I might have been wearing Sam’s hoodie and Colby’s sweatpants with my own sunglasses covering my hangover but that’s neither here nor there.
“Let’s go,” I told her and we bulldozed our way through the airport and towards whichever fancy hotel Tara picked the month prior.
And the hotel was very nice.
It was large enough for an entire group to crash in after a night out. The window showed the evening city as night fell, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the bed that could easily hold four people. I stared out the window for sometime as Tara got settled in. I could have been thinking about our plans for the morning, where we were going to get—most likely—brunch and where we would go thrifting after, but there I stood in the nicest hotel room in New York City I’ve ever been in thinking about Colby.
I thought to text him now.
I will.
Maybe.
My eyes fell heavy, and it took effort to pull myself from the window.
“Thinking about room service. Forgot to get food before.”
”I know, I was just dreaming about this bed,” I moaned as I collapsed into it.
I fell asleep before Tara got off call with room service.
I woke up when the food came.
”Get up or else I’m eating all this pizza.” I slugged over to sit hip to hip with her as the food sprawled ahead of us.
“I’m beat.”
”And once we eat, we can sleep so long and happy once our bellies are full.” She logged into her Netflix on the TV as I scrolled on my phone.
“Okay can we eat now, like damn.”
”Sorry,” I laughed as I read the last word he sent, and my phone was tossed to the bedding.
“How much will you text him? This is supposed to be our chilled out work week; emphasis on boyless work week.”
”Yeah I know, I was going to call him after we eat so we can talk about whatever the fuck happened last night.”
”Okay,” she said as she took a bite.
“Then we will be boyless.”
”Good.”
And she was right. My eyes rolled back even more so as the pizza settled in our systems. She got ready for bed as I slid out onto the balcony to talk to Colby. The chilly air was certainly more than enough to prevent me from falling asleep.
”Hi.”
”Hi,” he said back. “How are you feeling?”
”I’m good, better,” I sighed. “It was kind of the worst flight of my life though.”
”That’s what I was worried about. Good thing you made it through.”
”Yeah, hardly though. Tara threatened me and stuffed alcohol wipes in my nose every time I moved.”
”Oh my god,” he laughed. “I felt really bad last night. You were so sick and then Sam was sick—god, he still is—and I was just like, ‘shit, maybe this was a bad idea’ especially after—everything.”
”Yeah, I know. But-But it’s fine; it was fine. I had a good night. Just won’t do it before a five am flight ever again.”
Silence.
”I wanted to talk about last night though, like what happened between us.”
”I know,” I sighed and released the energy. “First I wanted to say sorry for what I said to you; I didn’t mean it and it was really disrespectful. I was so drunk and should have closed my mouth especially since that’s your business anyway. I feel really bad and didn’t mean it.”
”I-I know,” he said not too convincingly. “It—I mean, I get where you’re coming from and alcohol amplified everything.” My eyebrow twinged with question.
”What do you mean ‘where I’m coming from?’”
”I mean—“ He took his time and I bit through the first layer of skin on my lip. “I-I guess it’s no secret I’m not with anyone and don’t—didn’t have any plan to be. I—oh my god—I was going to say I wanted to just have fun, but I’m such a mess it isn’t fun anymore.”
”Why are you such a mess?” My voice was low as if it knew the answer.
”I guess I’m not wanting to be alone but I’m also just not-not wanting to commit or anything.”
”Oh.” I didn’t mean to be so short, and he took a breath to say something quick but I interjected. “Why did you kiss me then? You heard what I said and I did—and still do—mean it. So why did you kiss me like-like you meant it or something?”
”I’m just as confused as you are about it.” I didn’t appreciate the frustration in his tone.
”Oh yeah? What’s so confusing about it, then? I’m not confused.”
“What?” He gasped. I could tell I picked and picked at the seams until he couldn’t keep it back anymore. “You told me I was confusing to you last night. I’m confused as well.”
”I’m not confused about the situation but I’m confused about the damn choices you’re making.”
”Oh yeah? And what choices are those?”
”How every time you look at me I’m trying to decipher whether you want to kiss me but then you don’t and go kiss another girl like usual. I’m not into this whole—this whole yearning thing. I don’t do situationships or adjacent dysfunction, okay? So if you want to kiss me like you did last night, then I’m the only one you’re kissing and that’s what I’m not confused about.”
”You think I don’t want to kiss you like that?” He gasped. My throat clamped together. “If last night was anything to go by, you’d know that I’ve only ever wanted to kiss you like that. But it’s so much more real.”
”How is it so real?” I scoffed. The bitterness flowed from me, and I didn’t hold it back. How could I? There was so much unknowingly built in my chest and it needed to be relieved. “If it were real, you would kiss me. You wouldn’t fuck any other thing that breathes; you would come to me.”
”Jesus fucking—I don’t fuck anyone! Why do you keep saying that?”
Speechless choked me.
”You-You what?”
”I’ve slept with two people all through last year and no one this year, alright? Just because I might have fun or take photos with people doesn’t mean shit. I’ve only slept with—“
”You don’t have to tell me. I’m-I’m not—I trust you.” I didn’t like the way my voice shook, but I sat still in disbelief. Those nasty things I told him—
“Please,” he sighed. “I’m not—I don’t like to fuck around like that. I mean yeah maybe I do, but not like that. Not the amount you think I have. Do you really think so poorly of me?”
”I don’t-I don’t think poorly of anyone who does that, Colby. Especially not you. The thing that ticked me off was how you treated me. I could only think of those girls; did they know that you talked to me like that? Did they like to hook up meaninglessly like that? I didn’t want to be responsible for any messy situation that came of it.”
”And you wouldn’t have,” he said all too sweetly. “It’s my responsibility and I wouldn’t throw you under the bus like that. I mean; if there even were a bus. Every time I would ‘take someone home’ they would just leave in their own Uber and I’d go back with Sam. Or if I went to their house, honestly I would just crash at Jake and Johnnie’s for the night so that Sam could have the house for the night.” I never thought about those things. Unfairly too; I always believed the worst.
I took a lengthy pause. I was still upset. Unsatisfied. So I yanked harder.
”Then why do you loop me into all of this? Why play with me and kiss me just to go back to how we were?”
”Who said I would ever do it?”
”I don’t know!” I burst out. “Maybe it’s because I saw with my own eyes the amount of girls you were with and didn’t know the details. It’s like you wanted me but kept me on edge for fun.”
”That’s not-That’s definitely not what happened or what I was thinking at all.”
”Then what is, Colby? What the fuck are you thinking about me then, because I’m getting fed up and—“
”I’m thinking that if I just got my shit together and-and got over things I was scared of, I could have you and talk to you about how I feel about you.”
”Which is how?”
”God fucking damnit, you’re really making me spell it out, hm?” I shrugged.
”Obviously. I’m not here to fuck around anymore. I like having fun with my friends and I do not like being used and thrown away. I have more self respect than to be fucked over again and again.”
”I wouldn’t do that.”
”And you’ve given me no reason that you wouldn’t or proof that you would do any better.” The phone etched into my palms from the amount of force I used to hold it.
”God fucking—“ He paused and I heard a breath. “You’re so fucking difficult.”
”I’m difficult? You’re putting my through the ringer because you can’t communicate.”
”I can’t communicate? When did you ever tell me that you didn’t like it when I was with other girls?”
”I don’t know maybe because it’s not my fucking place? Jesus Christ, you think I have the audacity to nose my way into your business?”
”Well you’ve fucking nosed your way into every other area of my life.” I dragged in a deep breath.
I saw red. I finally understood what it felt like when people said that.
”Oh yeah? And whose fault is that exactly?”
”It sure as hell isn’t mine.”
”I swear to god! Ugh! You’re so fucking annoying!”
”I’m annoying?” His voice finally raised. “You’re the one who flirts with me and I get the message that you want something but then you tell me ‘oh, no my expectations are so much higher than what you could reach’ and then get mad when I can’t reach them?”
“You haven’t fucking tried!” I finally yelled. “And you’re projecting! I have never given you my expectations for a relationship and yet you still think you can’t reach them, what am I just some selfish bitch to you or something? You haven’t asked or talked to me about anything serious at all! The only thing you know about my personal needs in a relationship is that I’d like for it to be exclusive and serious. I didn’t realize that was just so fucking hard for anyone to give me.”
”Becase you’re looking in the fucking wrong direction!”
I paused for a moment. I licked my dry lips.
”Oh so then you think the problem is you? Because I know having standards—and low ones, might I add—isn’t typically an issue for people.”
”You are—oh my fucking god.” I heard the way his voice grew quieter as he pulled the phone from his ear in frustration. “Maybe—listen to me—Maybe I think you’re looking in the wrong direction because you need someone who can fit your expectations. Not because you’re too much but because I care about you enough to make sure you’re taken care of and not at risk for it blowing up in your face since clearly that’s all I’m good at.”
”Colby,” I gasped.
This was never about my behavior. This wasn’t even about our lack of communication, then.
“When did I ever say I didn’t want you.”
”What?” He spat. “I never said—“
”No, but clearly you think you’re not good enough for me. You don’t know what I want outside of a stable relationship, and that I know you can give me if you try.”
”How do you know that?” His spite was thicker than the words he said.
”I mean-I mean I don’t but you’re smart and clearly you fucking care enough so I supposed you’d figure it out.”
”But that puts you at risk.”
”Fuck!” I yelled. “For as often as you put your physical body at risk with Sam you certainly are against it emotionally. Maybe I know that it’s a risk liking you as much as I do, but maybe it’s one I’m willing to take.”
”But you want—“
”Fucking hell, Colby. I just wanted you!” God it felt so good to say. “I just wanted you without having to worry that one day I wouldn’t be able to see you again because-because if it does blow up, I’m not sure I’ll be able to be friends with you after. That’s how much I care about you and need you.”
He was silent and my own anxiety took the wheel again.
”I-I really liked our friendship and don’t take that lightly; I hope you feel the same way about it—“
”I really do,” he reassured me.
”Then that’s why I didn’t want to be the one to start something more with you. I didn’t want it to blow up—“
”Oh so you wanted me to start it so that whenever it does inevitably blow up, you can blame me?”
”That’s not what I fucking said now, is it Colby? I said—“
”No.” It was so incredibly final that it took center in my stomach like a knife. “I’m not—We’re not doing this.”
”So then that’s it?”
”How much more do you want to lose?” It hit me. He wouldn't be able to go back after that kiss.
”If you think we’ve already lost something, then how bad could it be?”
”I can’t fucking do this right now.”
”Oh come on,” I laughed. “That’s so—That’s such a tap out.”
”No, I’m serious. You’re literally asking me to solidify a relationship with you so that when we break up, it can be my fault.”
”That is not what I’m asking you to do. Like, at all.”
”Yeah? Then what is?”
”I’m asking you to stop being so fucking scared of everything.”
Silence.
”I want you to stop trying to control everything around you all the time. You can’t control how I feel. Stop blaming yourself for things you haven’t even done! I’d never blame you if things didn’t work out between us. But I am blaming you if you keep yourself from me just because you’re scared.”
“I’ve never been so scared of anyone like I’m scared of you.”
”Colby—“
”The way you make me feel is too much. I can’t-I can’t fuck us up. I’d rather you at a safe distance for forever than nowhere near me at all.”
”And if it all blows up, what are we going to do?”
”I can't think about that—“
”No, tell me.”
”I swear,” he laughed.
”Colby, tell me now.”
”I—We’re going to stop speaking. I know that much. I won’t be okay for a long time—“
”What if it all blows up but we just stay together anyway?” He was quiet again as if it was the most confusing thing in the world.
”What-What are you talking about?”
”Things go wrong in relationships all the time. That's why only the people who choose to stay together and work on themselves for the other person last more than 20 years. I don’t understand why a disagreement or argument can derail an entire companionship if they actually care deeply about each other.”
The way he said my name made me forget all the other times my name had been said.
”It’s that much?”
”What?” I asked.
”You actually want me that much?”
”I could.” It was the truth. I did want him—badly—and with time, maybe he could be the only one I would want.
”I think I could let myself want you that much too.”
”Colby, stop saying you’ll ‘let’ yourself. Not everything has to be controlled; literally chill out and let things happen.”
”Okay, okay,” he sighed. I, too, was tired of arguing, and with that sweet tone on his tongue, I wished to sleep cuddled into his side. What a way to begin a month apart from each other. “I trust you.”
”Good. I trust you too.”
It felt like the end of the conversation. I didn’t know where it left us, but we were farther than where we started.
I also trusted the fact that we had much time to think about things before we saw each other again.
”By the way,” he said with that goofy tone that I knew meant something outrageous was brewing in that head. “‘Smash and dash was so fucking funny. If you didn’t literally break my heart in that sentence, I would have cried laughing.”
”Oh my god, shut the fuck up. I have no idea where that came from—“
”It was so good.”
The night was brutal. It took me a second to register the fact that I shivered like my life depended on it.
“Colby,” I mumbled. “I care about you a lot, and maybe that’s why I’m so-so protective, or something, of what—or of how I feel. I didn’t want to stress you into something you didn’t want, and I didn’t—I don’t know—I don’t want to see you scared or in pain.”
“I know, I know. I care about you as well which is why I tried to get rid of my confusion and frustration in some way because I didn’t want to hurt you or not be enough for you. It—All of this is a lot, and I’m not ready for it.”
”Maybe we won’t be,” I sighed. My breath piled in front of me. “We can wait.”
”Yeah,” he agreed.
”I’m so sorry but I’m literally—I’m outside because Tara’s in there and it’s so fucking cold so I was going—”
”Oh my god, yeah go inside.”
”Okay.” I stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
”Okay, also, thanks for talking. You can be—god—you’re so fucking pushy and you never back down.”
“And you’re so damn combative it’s hard to not fight with you.”
”No one usually fights me, they leave or, I don’t fucking know, listen to what I say.”
”Ha!” I burst out laughing. “That’s so funny. I only listen to myself. I like you a lot, okay? So I’m going to fight back if you sound like an idiot.”
”And you sound like a spoiled bitch who always gets her way.”
”No,” I dragged out. “I just do this thing called thorough communication, and I never sacrifice the things I value just because some boy wants to fuck me.”
”Whoa,” Colby gasped. “I never expected you to sacrifice anything.” I laughed as my face heated up.
”Oh okay maybe so, but you want to fuck me then?”
“We are not talking about that right now.”
“Oh come on, you could have just said no.”
”And now you sound like the idiot.”
”Whatever, I’m going inside so I don’t have to freeze my ass off anymore.”
”You do that. I’m getting food then sleeping another ten hours.”
”Okay good,” I smiled. “Bye.”
”Bye.”
Even when I curled up in my bed happy and content and warm as I could be, I still shook to my core.
And it wasn’t from the winter air.
I woke up to the sound of an alarm, and Tara sitting up to turn it off.
”Why?” I complained. “Why so early?”
”It’s literally nine am. Let’s get up and get ready.”
”Fine,” I grumbled. I stretched so hard that I nearly missed what she said.
”I was asleep by the time you came in last night, what did you and Colby talk about for so long?”
”Honestly? We just argued the entire time but we’re fine now.”
”What?” She laughed. “What did you fight about?”
”Colby’s personal bullshit. Also, we may or may not date; we aren’t sure.”
”That is literally the most you and Colby thing I’ve ever heard,” Tara laughed as she got up. ”You guys are so exclusively not exclusive.”
”And you are so already breaking your rule for having a boyless trip.” She smiled at me as she pulled her glasses on.
”You’re right. Now get ready; we have bagels to eat and thrift stores to infiltrate.”
The day ended as fast as it came, and when we woke up the next morning, we decided to stay in and have a self care day instead of walking because our legs cramped.
I don’t remember another time my mind emptied of stress and worries about work, scheduling, and recording. Maybe we filmed a few videos, and maybe we vlogged, and maybe we met up with friends for a video, but it was a week of my life that my job melted into a privileged everyday life rather than a literal job.
After Tana and Brooke showed up, it was time for a little less self care to say the least.
He didn't respond.
“You’re breaking the law.” I looked up to Tara who sat on the edge of the bed talking to Brooke. I leaned against the head board and dropped my phone to the sheets.
”What are you talking about?”
“See, I didn’t know if you were or not but you just gave yourself away.”
”What law do we have this week?” Brooke asked.
”No speaking about or texting or calling males this week.” Brooke’s eyes rounded and snapped to mine.
”Who were you texting?”
”N—“
”Colby,” Tara sighed.
”Okay, that’s great. Thank you so much for letting that cat out of the bag.” Then Brooke’s eyes widened.
”Am I not supposed to know?”
”No,” I sighed and scooted closer to them. I stole a gummy worm from the bag in between them. “It’s a situationship I fear.”
”Oh I see,” Brooke laughed as a smirk pulled on her rosy lips.
“And it’s becoming a situation for all of us because you keep texting him.”
”You should be glad we aren’t at each other’s throats anymore.”
”I don’t know if you two being at each other’s throats is as bad as being down them anymore—“
”Oh my god, Tara, no. That’s-That’s too far.”
”Yeah, mhm,” she sighed with raised eyebrows. Tana came from the bathroom. “It’s almost like you were the one who went too far with him first.”
”Who’s him?”
”Colby,” Brooke replied to Tana faster than anyone could think.
”Oh,” Tana said as she looked at me up and down. “Honestly that checks out. Is this new?”
”As of three days ago,” I sighed. My head met my hand as if I massaged a headache.
”It’s actually been a nine month long languished yearning slow burn from both of them but apparently Colby has trust issues and she’s just too cut throat for him.”
”Tara,” I spat. “You are just full of it today aren’t you?”
”Yes, now I understand how everyone else felt when Jake and I first started dating and I’m getting flashbacks so I’m snappy.”
”Clearly.”
”You both are breaking your own law,” Brooke intervened.
”That’s true,” I said to Tara with eyebrows raised.
”What law?”
”No speaking about men on this trip,” Brooke told Tana to which Tana laughed, of course.
”I am a felon.”
✧˖*°࿐
Taglist (Comment to be added):
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#colby brock#sam and colby#sam golbach#18+ only#minors dni#colby brock smut#colby brock x reader#rosie writings
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about the blurbs, how about jjk guys knowing you have a crush on them? would they confess first or would they try to get you to admit it? (:
i love this sm bc yes they would know right away that i'm in love with them hehe
GOJO SATORU
ofc this mf knows you're into him. and of course he's going to try to get you to admit to it.
but that's a little easier said than done, because he's been flirting with you relentlessly for months, and it hasn't actually gotten him anywhere. sure, you always quip something flirty or sassy back at him, you're quick on your feet and effortlessly charming, but it always seems to end there, at the banter.
so he'd try asking you out, asking if you were free, for dinner, or a movie, or anything he could think of. but you always seemed to laugh him off, already have plans, or give him a flirty non-answer. he was starting to think you were blowing him off, and maybe he'd had you all wrong.
but nope! you're just clueless!
he realizes this one day when you call him out on yet another offer to take you to dinner.
"when have you lost all your creativity? did you finally run out of pickup lines?"
he furrows his brow at you, laughing a little out of confusion, before he realizes you're just as confused.
"(y/n), i'm asking you out,"
you blink.
"on a date"
you tilt your head at him.
"i want to go out with you, just the two of us"
"for real?" you ask, your eyes blowing wide with surprise.
"yeah for real!" satoru laughs. "i've been trying to for a while, don't tell me you haven't noticed?"
you shrug your shoulders. "i thought you were just joking around," you admit. "i'd love to go out with you"
after that it's smooth sailing for you two, but satoru will always tell other people that you rejected him repeatedly until finally giving into his charm.
___
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
to be honest... he does not know you have a crush on him, and will not figure it out unless you flat out tell him.
you learn this the hard way, after spending way too much time dropping hints- hints which you believed to be pretty strong signals of romantic interest, that megumi seemed to believe was just your personality.
you don't know how many eyelashes you plucked off his cheeks, or how many times your hand grabbed his, or rested on his arm or shoulders for just a few beats too long to be a casual touch. it was getting ridiculous. and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was just so uninterested in you that he juts ignored it all.
fortunately for him, you knew better.
and one day you couldn't keep up with all the flirting you were doing, because it wa only driving you mad!
so when the two of you are alone, you decide to just make a bigger goddamn move.
you're training together, and when you find yourself pinning megumi to the ground with a triumphant smile, you decide here goes nothing, and you lean down and kiss him. (he just looked so pretty underneath you!)
when you lean back, staring at him with wide eye to gauge his reaction, you find yourself holding your breath.
he looks surprised at first, but then he furrows his brows.
"was that supposed to throw me off?" he asks. "because that's good, I definitely wasn't expecting that. but I don't think you should be kissing curses, (y/n), that's kinda weird"
it's so cute how confused he is, but you can't help but sigh, and hang your head. how did he still not get it?
"no, dummy, i just wanted to kiss you"
there's a flicker of realization in his eyes, and a quick blush blooming across his face. he definitely realizes then all the little things he'd found cute about you, were just you trying to tell him you liked him. like-liked him.
later when he relays this story to yuuji and nobara, they laugh at him, because they'd thought you two had been together all this time.
___
OKKOTSU YUUTA
when yuuta starts to notice a change in your behavior, he picks up on your crush instantly.
your small chats during study sessions turned into lengthy conversations while wandering around campus late at night. eye contact was more often fleeting, and now accompanied with a blush. it also helped that maki and panda had eagerly told him how you always found a way to bring him up in conversation.
that was the icing on the cake, and yuuta was just over the moon at the thought of you crushing on him, because of course he shared your feelings! how could he not? you'd quickly become his favorite person to talk to, and your smile never failed to brighten his day.
so after his friends had given him a little slice of certainty that you had more than platonic feelings for him, yuuta decided to do something about it.
you're walking around campus as usual one night, enjoying the sunset and each other's company, when you notice a piece of dandelion fluff that had gotten stuck in his hair. you're quick to stop him and carefully retrieve the tuft of white, before presenting it before him on your fingertips, insisting he had to make a wish.
"i think that only counts when they're still on the stem" he chuckles at your antics.
"i won't tell," you whisper like it's a secret worthy of you taking to the grave. "just do it before i steal it"
you're smiling and blushing because you're standing so close to him and he hasn't stopped staring at you and it's starting to turn your brain and heart to mush. so yuuta tips his head and blows on the fluff, sending it off with the breeze once more.
you grin, more joyous than he was about a childish superstition, but he had to admit seeing you so happy made him want to go find a hundred more dandelions with you.
"i like you so much," he says, and your whole body is filled with a comforting warmth. "i wished you'd just ask me out already"
with wide eyes and parted lips, a small gasp of nervous laughter bubbled out of you.
"you wished that i asked you out?" you repeat.
"sure did," yuuta says with a proud smile, knowing his wish went to good use. "been waitin', you know"
your brows draw together, but you're smiling, no, beaming. you're absolutely glowing before him.
"i've been waiting for you to ask me out" you admit softly, your nose and cheeks dusting with color.
with only a little shyness, yuuta reaches out to take your hand in his, your fingers carefully slotting together in a rehearsed dance you'd never taken part of before.
"well now we'll have to find another dandelion" he hums, making you giggle.
he's only joking of course, but when he does find one later in your walk, he insists it's your turn to make your wish. once the fluffy seeds are blown into the air, he leans in to steal your lips in a kiss.
___
INUMAKI TOGE
toge has known about your feelings for him for months now, and he's certain he's done everything he can to just get you to confess already. he's texting you through all hours of the day, complete with good morning and goodnight texts. he's written you flirty little notes (which he's seen you keep in the inside cover of your notebook to keep it protected!) and he's given you a few fleeting cheek kisses here and there!
the guy could only speak in onigiri ingredients, couldn't you throw him a bone and confess your undying love for him already? it was starting to make him grumpy.
you're oblivious to his own flirtations and attempts to get your confession, and he knows this. so he knew he had to take a dramatic leap of faith to get you to admit your feelings, once and for all.
he kidnaps you.
not really... but he does hide out in a utility closet until he hears you passing and yanks you in there with him. your yelp of surprise is quickly silenced by a hand to your mouth, and as soon as you see it's toge, you relax.
"fuck you scared me," you sigh when he pulls his hand away. "don't do that! if you wanted to talk to me, you could've just texted me" you scold.
he shrugs and gives you a sheepish grin, which makes you realize he's unzipped his collar and seeing his whole face is enough to make your knees weak.
he gestures to you, before waving his hands around the small space. you glance around the closet, wincing, not understanding why you had to meet in here.
"my room would have been just as private..." you say, your eyes landing on an open gallon of bleach on a shelf.
you supposed there weren't regular health inspections at a place like this.
"what did you need to talk about in private anyways?" you ask, choosing to ignore that you were probably inhaling a lot of chemicals right now.
or were you just feeling dizzy because you were so close to him and his face was just so pretty and he's staring at you with those pretty purple eyes-?
toge points to you, and then to himself. "salmon"
you giggle, not quite grasping the specifics of what he wanted to say, but feeling flattered nonetheless. toge frowns.
"what?" you poke at his chin to question him on the long face.
toge points his finger at you again, this time for longer, as if that was the part you weren't understanding. then he brings both hands together to draw the shape of a heart in front of you. you giggle at this again, but don't cut him off. he ends his silent statement by shoving his finger into his chest.
"i love you?" you say, too focused on the guessing game to realize what you were actually saying, but as soon as the words leave your mouth, your eyes are widening and your cheeks are darkening.
toge seems victorious, grinning widely now and nodding his head. you're still stunned frozen as he repeats his gesture again, this time pointing to himself before pointing to you, and then holding up two fingers.
it was his crude way of saying I love you too.
your shock relaxes into ease when you realize he'd wanted your confession so that he could make his own, and he wasn't about to tease you relentlessly for your feelings.
his hands grab your own, pulling you towards him, but just before he can slant his lips on yours, you shake your head.
"there's way too many open chemicals to hang out in here any longer," you say, reaching for the door behind him and shoving him out of the closet. "let's go somewhere else"
you didn't have to tell him twice, he's happy to drag you throughout the halls towards his room.
___
a/n: wanna make the yuuta one a full fic now :(
xoxo ~ jordie
#gojo satoru#satoru brainrot#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru imagine#satoru gojo#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo imagine#fushiguro megumi#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x you#fushiguro megumi imagine#megumi brainrot#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi fushiguro imagine#okkotsu yuuta#okkotsu yuuta x reader#okkotsu yuuta x you#okkotsu yuuta imagine#yuuta brainrot#yuuta okkotsu#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuuta okkotsu x you#yuuta okkotsu imagine#inumaki toge#inumaki toge x reader#inumaki toge x ou
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Rude
Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou/fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ content [minors dni!!], established relationship, oral [f!receiving], bakugou being a motherfucking tease.
Word count: 1.8k
---
“Ugh… Why do you always gotta be like that, Kat?”
KATSUKI’S mouth leaves your pussy with a wet pop! at the question you whine into the vast space of his tidy living room.
The place is dark with the late hour; the turned on television being the sole exception of shedding some light to the otherwise pitch-black room.
Every change of scene and camera angle to come from the movie both you and him are currently too preoccupied to watch, causes oddly-shaped shadows to dance on the walls that are tastefully covered in prime artwork.
Your eyes have trouble following the shifting and thrashing of dark versus light from how badly you wish to flutter them shut. The pure, unrelenting bliss you're feeling in that exact moment is hard to endure. It makes your eyelids heavy with lust.
The noise that creeps up from the busy street several floors below the chic apartment sounds faint in comparison to your hammering pulse. Chatter, occasional traffic and music from countless bars fill your ears every second. Sure, the city might be buzzing with life at half past two in the morning, but you are goddamn crackling with it.
And your boyfriend is to blame for it.
Looking down - past your heaving chest and trembling stomach - you now busy yourself by eyeing the glimmer of the thin strings of saliva that bridge the narrow, but empty space between his mouth and your throbbing cunt.
The sight is peculiar. Hot. His warm drool clings to his plump bottom lip and produces a delicious sheen on the tender flesh that’s currently in the colour of ripe cherries from all the kisses he’s left right between your trembling legs so far.
The lewd connection snaps as soon as a grin, that you can best describe as purely wicked, breaks his lips apart. Katsuki smiles down at you, now - big and broad, as is the normalcy for him. But no matter how many times he has graced you with that exact same beam, the flash of teeth is still as chill-inducing just as it was the first time.
His voice is a purr of a feline; a rasp that’s gone coarse from need, “Like what, pretty?”
Your brow furrows in annoyance at the way he taunts you now, exactly like he always does. His eyes are a dark carmine and they glimmer with carnal mischief through a gaze that’s hooded from sleepy lust as he curls the two thick digits that he still has nestled deep inside you.
He pushes them in right to the beaten-up knuckles in one obnoxiously laggard shove, forcing your sugary slick to trickle right into his broad palm in decent droplets that he can’t wait to lap up. The sharp gasp you voice in response is awfully indecent, but it might just be his favourite one to come from you, if he doesn’t count the pretty moans of his name and the way you laugh when you’re truly happy, of course.
Katsuki might not show it, but the tremendous need you exhibit for him, both in sexual and more tender aspects, makes his heart melt into a jelly-like substance underneath all the hard exterior he otherwise flaunts in front the eyes of the world and its pesky media.
But no matter how rough and tough he tries to represent himself as, the simple truth is there: he goes soft when he’s desired. Turns compassionate when depended upon. So much so, in fact, that it might be turning him into a, dare he say it, somewhat of a romantic after two years of steady dating with you - his wonderful, albeit sometimes annoyingly fussy, girlfriend.
“Kat, baby,” you huff in that exact fussy tone that makes his blood boil in all the right ways and brings him back to reality, “stop acting like an idiot and gimme what I want.”
“Tsch.” The way he clicks his tongue against his teeth in faux disapproval makes your chest tighten. He knows you want to get slammed on his cock. Knows it damn well, and yet he refuses to give it to you, because you're acting bratty and brats need to be taught a lesson. A stern one.
He’s smirking as he says, “And if I don’t?”
Your dainty fingers tremble as they wrap around his wrist when you try to shove his hand away in answer. However, no matter how tightly you try to squeeze your legs together to keep him at bay, Katsuki refuses to budge, forcing them right back apart until you're splayed before him like a meal he's eager to dig in.
It’s a losing battle you’re fighting, let's be honest. He’s much too strong for you to overtake physically, with all that rippling muscle and masculine vigour he's got going on, and much too stubborn to be persuaded into yielding with the equally as potent obstinacy that he had inherited from his mother.
Both his body and mind are made out of pure iron. He could break you with his bare hands, but piece you back together just as well. It’s a blessing and a curse; just another list of pros and cons that accompany dating a pro hero, you suppose.
Your train of thought is broken by a rush of heat that flows through your lower stomach when he applies more pressure to your hot insides and presses his thumb against your swollen clit. He rubs tight, little circles on it, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat as fire begins to lick and nip at your skin.
Damn him. He's too good. There’ll be nothing but ash left of you if he keeps this up.
“Mm, I hate you s'much,” you grit out through clenched teeth, eyes blinking profusely in attempt to squeeze shut or roll into the back of your head, you don't know which one, “so, so much.”
“C’mon, baby,” Katsuki mutters, watching every twitch and wiggle your feverish body gives at his torturous touch, “don’t be rude like that.”
Your eyes shoot wide open in pure bewilderment before they narrow just as quickly as you try to glare at him. He’s chuckling at your pouty expression now; one corner of his lips quirking upwards at the way heat sears your face and makes you just too fucking cute to take seriously.
“Ex-Excuse me?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. What you’re enduring. “You’re the rude one!”
Your spine lifts from the couch in a perfect arch all of a sudden as he strokes that soft, gushy spot he’s a master at finding, making you mewl and cry out like a pathetic kitten underneath him. You’re writhing from how good he is at pressing all the right buttons. At how good he is at fucking you with his fingers.
“Me?” He hums like he’s seemingly deep in thought, the warmth of his breath causing goosebumps to form over your thighs when it fans your skin as soon as he lowers his head between your legs again, “Rude?”
“Yeah… Fuck, Kat… You, mm… You really are an idiot.” Your voice breaks into something more primal and high-pitched when his mouth finds your pussy again.
He parts his lips gently as he sucks your clit into his mouth; warm, drool-coated tongue darting out in viciously delicious attacks of pure expertise. God help you, he's so good at this. Too good.
A low grunt leaves the back of his throat when he once again tastes how sweet you are, the tip of his nose pressing so harshly against your pelvis that it scrunches up against you until wrinkles etch the bridge of it.
He quickens his pace with those wonderfully rough fingers, calloused pads stroking your velvety walls and sending your heartbeat into overdrive. He looks so hot eating you out like that; cheeks tinted red and eyes of the same colour glazed from how good you taste as your heels keep digging into his broad, muscular back and your fingers insist on running through his damp ash blonde hair.
You’re going to burst. You’re going to fucking erupt into absolute euphoria and float far, far away, until he has to grab you by the goddamn ankles and drag you down from heaven.
If he even lets you reach heaven, that is.
You can literally feel an icy shiver of anticipation tumbling down your spine as he keeps pleasuring you, despite the fact that your skin is hot and covered in sweat. The salt to riddle you makes you stick to the fancy throw blanket that you insisted he buy to make his apartment feel more homey and that’s now twisting and crumpling underneath you.
You’re losing brain cells and the ability to speak coherently when his tongue plunges into your tight, sopping hole. Head tipping back into the cushion, you realize that he’s going to ruin you like this. That he's going to swallow you whole, until there’s nothing left of you but a pleasant memory he might or might not keep.
“Kat, I-I’m so close,” you whimper, hips bucking upward in apparent need, “so, so close, baby… Fuck, please. Please, don’t stop, god.”
But Katsuki does just that. He stops just when you’re ready to become undone. He leaves you clenching around nothing and your clit unattended just when you’re about to tip over the edge. Of course he does - the absolute fucker.
He’s smiling at you now, the beam more of a naughty smirk than anything else as he keeps kissing your poor pussy over and over again. The fact that you’re on the cusp of crying and that hot tears are visibly lining your waterline from how fucking frustrated you are is making his pants tighten to an unbearable degree.
God, he loves seeing you like this - yearning and dumb from raw emotion. All because of him. It makes his cock throb and he just knows it’s going to hurt when he at long last shoves it inside that cute cunt of yours. Knows that he’s going to make you cry for real when he makes you bounce on it; all hot and bothered.
But all in due time. He's way more patient than he used to be.
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, each open-mouthed affection he places on you sending electricity coursing through your core, “I didn’t mean to stop, but I guess I’m an idiot just like you said, huh? Lemme make it up by trying again, yeah? I promise I'll do better. So fuckin' better.”
Some would understand his words and the way he offers you one toe-curling, languid swipe as an apology of sorts, but you know your alluringly rough-around-the-edges boyfriend better than that. Know that the shadows of iniquity to haunt his crimson eyes mean something entirely else.
They spell game over. Battle lost. After all, nobody calls him names and gets away with it. Not even you. Especially you.
Because he’s Katsuki Bakugou - forever the rude tease.
And he’s going to make you pay first before he makes you cum.
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by my side // yuki tsunoda
a kitchen filled with the sounds of love and laughter
pasta always tastes sweeter when made together after a long week at work. all she wants is to bask in his sunshine. and hes all too glad to share his light with her
pairing: yuki tsunoda x reader
warnings: confessions of love, I guess? like none of these have serious warnings on them!!
she couldn't remember being this happy.
the sun was setting just past her window, a radio on the counter- yes, a real radio- playing the oldies station, u2's 'i still haven't found what i'm looking for' playing softly as the onions sizzled on the stove.
her cat nuzzles up against her bare ankle, purring softly as it pawed at her foot. yuki comes up behind her, wrapping his strong, warm arms around her body.
she had never felt more safe than she did in his arms.
"smells incredible, darling."
"yuki, i've barely done anything." she chuckled, reaching for the jar of tomato sauce. "you're the chef here, wanna give me a hand?"
"nope." yuki shook his head, his nose cold against her skin as he buried his face in her neck. they were the same height, a match made in awkward and adorable heaven.
she knew that it wouldn't last. yuki was way too particular about his kitchen. (well, this kitchen was hers) all it took was one pour of the tomato sauce jar for yuki to spring into action, gnetly prying the can from her hands.
"babe." he pouted. "that's not how you do it. you're going to get pasta sauce all over yourself."
"that's the yuki i know." she smiled, slipping out of his arms to pick up her cat from the ground. "take it away, romeo."
yuki laughed, moving to stand in front of the stove, stirring the sauce as it boiled. “technically, agatha christie shouldn’t even be in the kitchen.”
she faked a pout, looking at the shorthair cat in her arms. “hear that, agatha? he’s trying to kick you out of your own kitchen!”
yuki made a face before scratching agatha behind the ears and turning back to the stove. giggling to herself, she tiptoed out of the kitchen with agatha christie in her arms, placing the cat back on her climbing fairy tree. yuki had helped her out it together on their third date, right after coffee and dog yoga (she always took her coffee sweet, iced and with milk and caramel syrup).
she never thought she would be this lucky. yuki was the sweetest man she’d ever met, and the best cook. it was like dating a best friend. even the most mundane tasks felt like bug things with him: going out for ice cream, pushing a shopping cart around ikea.
she knew it was still early, but he knew her inside and out (physically and mentally) and she had never felt this way for anybody else before.
she was in love with yuki tsunoda.
and she didn't know how to tell him.
she watched for a moment as he lifted a large pot onto the countertop, the veins in his arms flexing as he did so (whoever said short guys weren't sexy was a goddamn liar).
"help me with the pasta, love?" yuki hummed, flicking the light over the stovetop on.
she smiled, turning up the radio before she grabbed the box of penne noodles from the counter. placing one hand on yuki's back, she stepped around him and kissed him softly on the lips. he hummed into it, a strong hand cradling her waist.
"i love you." she whispered. there was no plan to how she said it, no thought that crossed her mind where she thought 'i have to tell him'. three simple words that made all the difference, spoken like they were a normal thing for them.
yuki smiled. "i love you." he said softly, his lips brushing over hers, breath warm on her skin.
she pulled away briefly to turn the gas stove on, the blue fames warming the bottom of the water pot. she stepped away from the stove, bringing yuki with her as the song changed, a slow, romantic ballad beginning to play.
"i love this song." she smiles, reaching for yuki's hands. "dance with me?"
"always." he beamed, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head before they began to sway, inxs playing in the background.
she wouldn't have it any other way. it was moments like this that she dreamed of when she was younger. the small ones: cooking with the man that she loved, taking breaks to bask in each other's light, dancing to oldies music in the kitchen with nobody else around.
tired of watching from the sidelines, agatha christie jumped down from her perch, padding into the kitchen and nuzzling at yuki's leg. the couple paused their gentle dance, laughing as yuki reached down to pick up the cat.
"did somebody get jealous? you have to learn how to share your mom, agatha. because i have a feeling i'm going to be around a lot more often." yuki hummed, scratching behind agatha's ears.
the cat purred softly, burrowing into his black t-shirt.
"see, she loves you already." she giggled, using her phone to take a quick picture of the moment. she felt so content, so fulfilled. this was everything she had ever wanted in her quiet little life and more,
"not more than you do, i hope."
"never in a million years. i love you, yuki tsunoda." she laughed, leaning in to kiss him again.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @thatsdemko @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh @diorleclerc
#fools in love! event#yuki tsunoda#yuki tsunoda x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 one shot#yuki tsunoda imagine#Spotify#mini fic
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Pairing ೃ⁀➷ 1610! Miles Morales x Fem! Reader
Summary ೃ⁀➷ Based off of Conan Gray’s song, Heather.
Genre ೃ⁀➷ Unrequited love, one shot
Tags ೃ⁀➷ Unrequited Love, Really rushed, It’s like twelve here damn, short one shot, Reader is a hopeless romantic idk anymore, not proofread, it’s mostly just poetic shit idk
Author's Note ೃ⁀➷ ill design it tomorrow goddamn it i just wanted to write, might wake up and rewrite idfk
“𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫,”
Suddenly, all of what was left of November passed, with the dead, scarlet leaves the only homage remaining of the autumn that’s escaped your grasps. Autumn left as quick as it came, you couldn’t even bid a proper adieu.
When you think of December, you think of this icy wonderland— a winter that’d leave you huddling in the comfort of thick coats and hot chocolate, while patiently waiting on the nearing holiday that was prancing around the corner. Instead, what poured was not the icy flare of snow, but rain heavy enough to send you and Miles bolting off for cover.
In the thick downpour, your giggles emanated throughout the dim alleyways as the two of you sought sanctuary beneath a bus stop, somehow able to shield yourselves from the pitter-patters that raged on in a sideway fall.
“Oh my God, your hair.” You pointed at his drenched curls, a low laugh following along. Miles shook his head, running his fingers through the fluff of his waves when it poofs up again after a few turns. “It’s got magic, don’t worry.”
You brush your hands over the drenched skirt of your uniform, cursing to yourself. “Kinda need that magic for my clothes too.”
“That’s ‘cause you ain’t a magical being like me,” He huffs while wiping his hoodie. “You’s a mere mortal.”
“Okay, extraterrestrial being, control the damn weather then.”
“Hell yeah I will,” He snaps his fingers up to the skies. “Rain harder f’me, clouds!”
And the rain oh-so-gracious heeds his command. After a short while of cursing him out, you and Miles sat by the bench with your laughs easing down— replacing the excitement with a shared sort of exhaustion. With your heads pressed against the graffiti-covered glass wall behind you, you take a moment to subtly angle your head and look at Miles. He doesn’t notice it at first, but when he catches on, he turns and exchanges the stare with his own, a subtle “What?” escaping his lips.
From the chill of your spine, you mumbled.
“Nothing.”
You sheepishly looked away. “I’m just.. So exhausted, God. I need to work on my cardio.” A small fit of coughs exit your lips, covered up by the block of your wet sleeve. “I don’t understand how you get to run so quick— I couldn’t even see anything.”
“You still caught up pretty quick,” He beams. “Gotta admit, you’re a quick runner.”
“Thanks, I practice by running away from my problems.” A heft chuckle followed. “M’just kidding.”
Miles takes notice of your quivering hand— a frail shiver emanating ‘til the tips of your fingers. For a moment, the short idea of wrapping his hand over yours crosses his mind, but he shoots it down as soon as it came. It inches only a tad bit closer, but the image of someone else flashes in his mind when he looks at you like this.
“What a mood.”
“Running away from problems?”
“Yeah.”
You raised a brow. “You? You run away from your problems?”
He lazily shrugged with a hum. “Everybody runs away from their problems every now and then. It’s aight.”
“In a way, I guess,” You lean a little closer, but your shoulders never touching. “But in the end, no matter how much we run away, it’s all gonna end up catching up to us.”
Miles shoots you an amused look. “You been paying attention to philosophy class lately?”
“Prof Martha and I are besties, y’know.” A tint of sarcasm colored your words, redefining your connection to the strict teacher. “She likes me so much, she calls my name first during every fucking recitation.”
“It’s cause you’s always on that damn phone.”
“With or without my damn phone, nothing can make me sit still throughout her lecture.” A gruff huff escaped your mouth.
“Damn, not even me?”
You looked at him, wondering if he was flirting with you or if it was just your delusional brain whispering sweet theories into your ear. But even then, you admit.
“Ionno, maybe.”
You couldn’t even look him in the hazel of his pretty eyes.
“Maybe?”
He sounded half-disappointed, but you didn’t want to plant a presumptive seed inside your overly creative brain. That word alone’s enough to craft you a million what-ifs later on when you’re fading into the world of your dreams.
A chill runs down your spine.
“… I think I’m definitely gonna get sick tomorrow.”
“Oh, shit,” He sits up. “We definitely can’t have that happening.” Immediately after, he starts taking off his sweater. You flush, rambling on with the same question; “What the fuck are you doing!?”
“Our presentation’s tomorrow, and if anybody’s gonna be presenting the damn thing, it ain’t me— so you,” He tosses it over to you. “You wear this for now.”
You hesitate for a moment, dragging your hands towards the red polyester with a raised brow.
“How about you?”
Miles shrugged. “I can make do. My system’s made out of steel.”
“Made out of steel but you can’t perform for shit?” You pull the sweater over your head, the fluffy thing engulfing you into warmth. It was still somewhat damp from the rain, but it was better than earlier.
“Huh,” Miles sat back as you looked up to meet his gaze. “.. Would you look at that. It looks better on you than it does on me.”
Your eyes glanced down at the crimson, your hands smoothing out the creases of the cloth. “Really? I don’t usually wear this shade.”
“You don’t?”
“I’m more of a.. Less saturated kinda gal.”
“.. I mean, you can have it if you want.”
You shot him a look of disbelief. “.. Does this sweater have a hole because if you’re giving this away I—“
“It doesn’t have a hole, [Y/n].”
And your name rolled off his tongue so gently, it caught you off guard.
“I just think it looks better on you.”
Upon that murmur, he crossed his arms over his chest and sunk deep into the comfort of his seat. You’re stuck contemplating with an open palm, straightening the creases of his sweater. “Are you really giving this to me? ‘Cause I can give it back to you after laundry day.”
He shook his head. “Just.. Think of it as an early Christmas gift.”
“.. Thank you, then.” A smile crossed your lips. “I’ll keep it forever.”
When you see the way he looks at you— like a sort of guilt laced in hesitation, but a certain sort of awe. At that moment, a sense of hope lingered inside you like a dream. You think, maybe, just maybe, that helpless look in his eyes— that sort of gut wrenching longing— was crafted entirely and solely, exclusively for you.
But you knew that gaze of his wasn’t for you.
And you knew exactly who he was pretending you to be.
Oh, if only I was her.
Feelings, your feelings— erratic, volatile, and erupting out of you like a bird unwilling to be caged. You wanted to speak, say it— just say it.
But your hair wasn’t as golden as hers, your cheeks weren’t as rosy as hers. You wanted her effortless pixie hair cut, her ballerina grace. She reminded you of those flowers fleeting in the wind, like the purple heaths they called ‘Heathers’. You wanted to smell like her sweet perfume, do everything the way she does, just so Miles could look at you the way you imagined he’d look at her.
His doe-eyed sweetness. You wished you could own it, you wished he’d spare at least a part of it for you.
Rather, you wanted all of him for yourself.
You wanted a glimpse of this girl beyond the confines of Miles’ dabbles in watercolor and markers. You’d much rather prefer the object of your jealousy walk across your sights, smile with the bunny teeth he likes so much, and make your stomach churn rather than have you dwell over a 2D image you couldn’t help but gauntly skim past.
What is it about you that I can’t make Miles look at me?
Maybe if you’d meet her beyond his sketchpad and recollections, then maybe you’d understand why he can’t get her out of his mind.
At that moment, she was just someone you wished to be.
The bright red of this polyester which you deemed unfitting of your skin. You wondered if Miles truly meant it when he said it suits you— or if what he truly meant was that the shade would’ve looked great on her.
As the sweater was yours, but Miles was hers.
Your arms meet with a tiny press, and you feel his shiver. It was only so subtle, but at the ease of his shoulders, you couldn’t help but think as he looked onto the empty space with a blank stare.
Wish I were Heather.
#miles morales#miles morales 1610#1610 miles x reader#earth 1610 miles morales x reader#spiderman 1610#earth 1610 miles fluff#earth 1610 miles morales x you#earth 1610 miles x you#miles morales fluff#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x you#miles morales x reader#atsv#spiderman atsv#atsv x reader#spider man: across the spider verse
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hi! can I request each of the task 141 boys and what they would be like dancing with the reader in the kitchen at like 1 in the morning? thank you in advance if you do this, it’s been in my brain all day :)
𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳 - 𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟏 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
scenario - It's the middle of the night and you can't sleep. The music plays softly in the background ("Fly Me To The Moon"), you're munching on a late-night snack, and goodness, the house feels lively and the atmosphere is just... right. Your handsome soldier is roused from his sleep and comes looking for you and your midnight waltz is born.
𝐂𝐩𝐭. 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞
His bedhead is adorable and rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes makes him look so... boyish.
Of course, he inquires as to why you're up at this ungodly hour. There's beauty sleep to be had.
You'll acquiesce on one condition. He has to slow dance with you.
Once he realizes what song is playing, there's a cheeky twinkle in his eye.
He pulls you close. You wrap your arms around each other and just slow dance in the kitchen, Frank Sinatra crooning in the background.
Your rest your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat and his chin rests comfortably on top of your head, and all is well.
And no, he didn't doze off mid-waltz. What are you talking about, darling?
𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 '𝐆𝐚𝐳' 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤
Gaz was worried something had happened to you and was surprised to find you relaxing in the kitchen.
When all is deemed well, he takes the opportunity to adjust to the light and just... let the tension ease its way out of his body.
In the meantime, you take the opportunity to pull him into your arms and slow dance.
Gaz stiffens up a little before getting comfortable in your embrace. This is rather new to him and he's never had to do something like... dance before. At least, not like this. Okay then...
This turns into an opportunity to teach Gaz the basics of slow dancing.
And at least you guys can say you had a reason for sleeping in later that day. Win-win.
𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲
Simon was so damn anxious that he did an entire sweep of the house thinking something was wrong. You just watched him. It was a second before he turned and saw you chewing silently.
He gives you his signature "What the fuck?" look. ("Couldn't sleep and I was hungry. Want some?" ".....")
Ghost'll rub his face tiredly and it hits you how worried he was. Of course, the bastard would never express it in words but you practically see it in his body language.
You quickly rush to comfort him. You apologize profusely and hug him, which turns into a slow dance of comfort.
Simon will bury his head in the crook of your neck and commit your scent to memory like always.
And you will take this opportunity to cop a feel of that perfect ass and hear him groan in longsuffering Ghost as always, voice gravelly (when isn't it?) with sleep.
"Didn't know my waist was back there." "Me neither. ❤️"
𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 '𝐒𝐨𝐚𝐩' 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡
Soap was also thirsty and came down to grab some water so win-win there.
You two shared a late-night snack and when what was playing, he was surprised you liked this song. Never took you for an Oldie lover. You're so full of surprises and he can't get enough of it, it seems.
You hold your hand out in invitation and with a cheeky ass grin, he takes it. You pull him close and voilà!
Quite romantic this dance is. You're serenading him as you dance and yeah, Soap's loving it. Stop, he's not blushing. Yeah, he is.
It was all well and good until you tried to dip him and, uh... you two fall on the kitchen floor. Somehow. It was goddamn funny.
You two spent the better part of a minute and a half just laughing your asses off.
And afterward, the song is done, and having shut everything off, Johnny takes your hand and leads you back upstairs for a midnight waltz of his own.
#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#task force 141#captain john price#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john price x reader#gaz x reader#simon riley x reader#soap mactavish x reader#call of duty x reader#just 141 things.#hope you enjoy anon!
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ℂ𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℂ𝕚𝕘𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕤
✧taglist✧: @eclipse-777
✧warnings: F-boy Sunghoon so mentions of sex ig, may be a lil suggestive, possessive hoon
❁synopsis: The campus hottie, was practically perfect, smart handsome talented and rumour has it among the girls, good in bed. The male is a fuck boy, a jerk face, never once wanted to fall in love after having his heart broken once by an unlucky bitch. Heck he believed he'd be like that forever, until he came across the new girl. Yang y/n.
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
✧❁PART 2/???❁✧
Y/n was simply having lunch with Danielle, the two talking about random things, changing the subject every 30 seconds. Not too far from them, Sunghoon harshly rejected a girl, saying he was in love with a girl, looking over at y/n with lovestruck eyes in hopes that the girl would feel some sort of trust seeing this. She didn't even care. Smiling as she sipped on her cherry flavoured drink with a smile.
Hell even when walking to class, she had Sunghoon running after her, the way his fangirls ran behind him. Fuck the girls were pissed. How the fuck does an average girl like that have the most stunning man wrapped around her finger? in their eyes, she wasn't even pretty, all that he was seeing was makeup, cakey makeup. Sunghoon didn't care about any of that though.
He fell in love with her for a different reason. See in his eyes, she's all the beauty he needs. He fucking loves her that's all they need to know. When he wakes up, he wants to wake up knowing she's safe in his arms. He wants his heart to flutter at her genuine smile. He wants to hold her hand and take her out on romantic dates. Fuck he just wants to be the reason behind her smiling like an idiot. Is that too much to ask for?
"Why are you in love with me?!" y/n asked as Sunghoon froze. "What reason should I say when there are so many?" Sunghoon asked as Y/n sighed "Tell me every single reason. There can't possibly be a whole 10-paged essay of reasons that you need to read out to me" y/n added with a scoff as Sunghoon just snickerred.
Sunghoon just stared at her, lovestruck, "How could I not fall in love with you?... Your lips, how they form into a genuine smile, your cheeks that I so badly want to pinch, your eyes that I just can't ever stop staring into, it feels like I've known you for years though we just met, you tend to say so much about how much you hate your nose, but I don't see why you keep complaining about something so perfect, I envy you for it." he started as y/n's eyes met his.
"When I look at you, I just want to hold you in my arms, to be the reason behind your warm smile, to run around in the rain and eat ice cream, whisper so many cheesy sweet nothings into your ear, spoil you with affection, to spill all my secrets, my fears, everything to you, I want to be able to be vulnerable around you, fuck I just want you. your love, to know that after a rough day, I can come home to you." Sunghoon said. He was so goddamn genuine.
Heck, even Danielle saw how genuine he was, he was being honest. Any one could turn to see him and immediately say that's a man in love. Everyone was shocked. The playboy has never said such cheesy things to a girl before. In their eyes he was doing everything to take his virginity, very few realized the playboy is no longer a playboy. Some girls were just jealous, whichever one it was, they hated that he treated y/n like that.
Y/n just stared into his eyes, clearly captivated by his words, but then she blinked, looking away, she bit her lip as she stared down. "Wow... you sound so cheesy. I can't believe you thought I'd fall for a stunt like that. Everyone knows what you want Sunghoon. Once a playboy, always a playboy. Only in a netflix cringe drama would we be possible." She simply said as she walked off, dragging Danielle with her.
Sunghoon was not going to give up, not now not ever. He saw her eyes, fuck he almost had her. She's playing hard to get but he'll break the ice. She needs way more than love she needs commitment, and he can give her more than anything she could dream of.
✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧❁✧
✧❁PART 3❁✧
#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon fluff#sunghoon smau#enhypen imagines#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x y/n#enhypen scenarios#enhypen reactions#enhypen#park sunghoon#sunghoon#enha imagines#enha scenarios#enha smau#enha x reader#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x female reader#sunghoon drabbles#park sunghoon fluff#sunghoon oneshot#sunghoon drabble#enhypen oneshot#sunghoon x you#sunghoon imagine#enhypen imagine#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen sunghoon
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written for @steddiemicrofic
prompt 'fool' | wc: 454 | rated: t
told you so
"You're a fool, Harrington. A goddamn fool!" Steve presses his face deeper into the pillow before letting out a frustrated growl.
He's been lying here for god knows how long, varying between suffocating his screams in his pillow and punching the mattress.
How did he end up here all self-loathing and distressed? Well.
What should've been a nice day out at the lake turned into a real horror show. Not like, horror in terms of monsters and stuff.
No, this was way worse.
Steve Harrington, once known for his irresistible charm has now officially fallen from grace; downgraded from king of Hawkins High to king of fools with one reckless act.
He should've never listened to Robin when she made him believe that there was something between him and Eddie. That Eddie liked him as more than just a friend.
Why the fuck did he listen to her?
He loves her to bits but honestly? Robin Buckley isn't really an expert when it comes to love things.
But of course, Steve listened. Let it get to his head when she told him how Eddie kept looking at him when he thought no one noticed - 'It's so obvious, Steve. He's totally gone for you,' she had said, unfairly infesting his heart and mind with hope. Hope that the feelings he has are mutual.
Turns out that was all bullshit.
At least he knows now. Sure, he might die from embarrassment and a broken heart but whatever. He'll never leave his house again and no one will miss him anyway.
They all saw it, saw how Steve kissed Eddie like a fucking creep and how Eddie pushed him away, a shocked expression on his face like Steve had just punched him.
What else was Steve supposed to do but to grab his shit an run?
Okay, he could've at least apologised, maybe even turned it into a joke like 'Haha, you should see yourself!'
But no. This isn't a joke to Steve. He really likes Eddie. And now he's fucked it all up.
Something taps against his window, once, twice.
When he opens it, he finds Eddie standing outside, hand already lifted to throw another stone.
"Eddie?! What the fuck are you doing?"
"They always make it seem romantic in movies."
They're both staring at each other for a moment before Steve sighs defeated.
"Look man, I'm sorry for earlier." It's a weak apology but Steve hopes it's enough.
"What? Oh that. Yeah, me too. Can you come down now or let me in so we can make out?"
Oh.
Steve pinches himself, just to be sure he's not dreaming. And a voice in his head that sounds awfully like Robin's whispers: I told you so.
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Javier Peña NSFW Alphabet
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader
Established relationship.
Can be read as Learning to Live Javier.
a/n: @theorganasolo messaged me last night asking if I’d ever consider doing one of these for Javi, and I told her I’ve wanted to but couldn’t find the list of prompts. She got them for me, and I had some spare time, so I wrote this out. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
Masterlist
A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?):
Javier’s a physical creature, and you’ll find yourself being cuddled afterward before he gets up to grab you a warm, wet washcloth or run a bath if you have the time. He loves the cuddles, though, especially when you play with his hair.
B = Body Part (Favorite body part on themselves and on their partner):
Javier’s favorite body part on himself are his arms. There’s a reason he wears a lot of short-sleeve shirts, and it’s because he knows they look good. He’s obsessed with your ass. He’s constantly touching, grabbing, and spanking it. He’s always checking it out. You drive him crazy when you wear leggings, and he loses his goddamn mind when he pulls them down to find you in that red thong he loves.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum):
Up until he got into a relationship with you, 99.9% of the penetrative sex he had, he wore condoms. So, when you let him come inside you the first time without a barrier? He’s hooked. Addicted. It’s life-changing and has become his favorite place to finish, and thus a creampie kink is born.
D = Dirty Secret (What do they secretly want?):
That when he comes deep inside your pussy, there’s this split second where he hopes he’ll get you pregnant.
E = Experience (Do they know what they’re doing?):
This man has been fucking since his teens. He’s got a lot of experience and definitely knows what he’s doing. He will make you come at least once, but odds are it’s going to be more than that because it really gets him going bringing his partner pleasure.
F = Favorite Position (Self-explanatory):
Doggy is definitely a favorite since he’s an ass man and loves how hard he can go. But Javier’s a romantic, and when he falls in love with you, his favorite position shifts to basically anything face-to-face so he can kiss and look at you.
G = Goofy (Are they serious during sex or goofy?):
When he’s in a relationship, Javier is more relaxed during sex, and there are instances where he is a little goofy or just having fun with you. Most of the time, though, he’s serious because he takes fucking you very seriously.
H = Hair (Are they well groomed?):
Javier isn’t super hairy in general, and the little bit of hair he does have below the belt he keeps nice and tidy.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment?):
God, this man is focused on you and you alone during sex—nothing else in the world matters. He wants to be close to you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to feel your skin on his. He loses himself in you. All of this to say, he’s incredibly intimate.
J = Jack Off (Do they masturbate?):
If he’s horny and you’re unavailable or not in the mood, he’ll absolutely jack off. He has a stack of nude Polaroids he’s taken of you, and you guys made that one home movie no one else can watch he’ll jerk off to. Sometimes, you guys even masturbate together.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks):
We know he’s a biter, and he definitely likes being bitten, too. He absolutely has a praise kink. He loves hearing about how good he’s fucking you, and his eyes roll back in his head when you call him a good boy. And when he gets with you, he discovers quite a few new kinks, like his creampie kink, that eventually turns into a breeding kink. Then, when he does finally knock you up, he finds out he’s got a pregnancy kink, along with a lactation kink.
L = Location (Favorite place to do it):
At your shared apartment. He’s fucked you in every room. He likes the privacy and that you guys can basically be as loud as you want since he can handle the death glares the neighbors give him the following morning.
M = Motivation (What turns them on or gets them going):
You. He can go from zero to horny in a split second if you just tell him you’re in the mood. It also gets him going when you walk around the place you both live in wearing leggings or only your underwear and an oversized T-shirt. He also gets horny when you stick up for him when people are rude.
N = No (Something they will not do. Turn offs):
Degradation. Face-slapping. Anything with gross bodily fluids. Anything that would cause you or him pain or bodily harm. Age play.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc.):
Javier is a giver. He spent his college years perfecting the art of pussy eating and then didn’t get to use his skills while away in Colombia. But now that he’s home and with you, his face is buried between your legs any chance he gets, and he’s really good at it. Blow jobs aren’t his favorite thing in the world, but he thinks you give the best ones, and he loves when you want to suck his dick.
P = Pace (Are they fast or rough? Or slow and sensual?):
It depends on his mood/how horny he is/how much time you have. He switches between paces, but he sure does love it when you guys can go all nice and slow while making out. He loves being close to you, and having his dick inside you and his tongue in your mouth while he slowly rocks in and out of your pussy—it’s heaven for him.
Q = Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than regular sex):
He prefers regular sex over quickies. However, if there’s only time for a quickie, he’s not turning it down, and you’re both going to have a great time. With regular sex, he likes being able to take his time and pull you apart. Now, he does love the occasional risky quickie outside of your apartment, in various locations like his truck, on his childhood bed at his dad’s house, in the hayloft, out on his father’s land, or against his dad’s prized Ford Mustang he won’t let Javier drive.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.):
He’s down to experiment as long as it’s not one of his turn offs or things he won’t do. If you want to try something, he’s more than willing. He is risky in the sense that he’ll fuck you in places you could potentially get caught.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?):
If he takes breaks between rounds, he can pretty much fuck all day. There are some instances where he’s too worked up, and things end kind of quickly, but the majority of the time, he can last pretty long. He knows himself well enough to hold back and go awhile if he needs to.
T = Toys (Do they own or use toys on themselves or partners?):
He doesn’t personally own any toys, but he’s more than happy to use your toys on you. They’re just extra tools to bring you pleasure, and all he wants is to make you feel good.
U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?):
So much. He teases so much, and loves when you can’t take it anymore and jump his bones.
V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?):
Javier is extremely vocal. He groans, moans, grunts, whimpers, and whines, and it’s loud enough you can tell he’s feeling really fucking good. Your favorite sound is that ragged moan he lets out when he’s coming deep inside you.
W = Wildcard (Random headcanon for your character):
As we’ve established, Javier loves your ass, and it’s like Christmas morning the day you finally let him fuck it—the man is giddy and makes your first time so good it becomes a regular occurrence in your sex life.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants):
You’ve seen him in those tight-ass jeans and that bulge—he’s packing. He’s just shy of eight inches, cut, with a nice upward curve that hits so good when he’s inside you and a thickness that stretches you perfectly. Honestly, his dick is a work of art.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?):
He’s got a relatively high sex drive. If you want to fuck, he’s down. He’s always ready to go, and it’s fine if you don’t match his level. He’ll jerk off if he needs to.
Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterward?):
He usually dozes a little afterward as he’s holding you because he’s so comfortable and cozy—all those happy chemicals flowing through his body and your fingers in his hair. There’s nowhere else he’d rather be, than right there relaxed and cuddled close to you.
Masterlist - Learning to Live
Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!
#pedro pascal#javier peña#Javier Peña/reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#wheresarizona writes#learning to live series
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— 𝟓𝟎𝐬! 𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬; 𝐡𝐜𝐬 —
જ⁀➴ — • summary: just little romantic hcs <3; • a/n: i wanna write for my lovee, so i’m starting with this <33 • cw: none? elvis being sweet as sugar, is all ❤︎︎
MAIN MASTERLIST
• buries his face in the crook of your neck, seeking comfort in the scent of your skin
• toys with your hair and winds it round each of his fingers, just adores its sweet softness
• plays with your rings and fingers, and brings your hand to his mouth for a kiss
• sits with a hand on the inside of your thigh and rubs slow circles there with his thumb
• has a hand on the small of your back, or curved round your waist when you’re standing and talking; even more so in public, when surrounded by crowds — as you get used to being as he rises in fame
• hugs you from behind and kisses your neck until you just can’t think straight
• does that, and whispers sweet things in your ear that have you blushing as he just smirks against you, and now you’re decidedly not concentrating on your other conversation — can only feel him
• opens his arms/pats his lap for you to come and sit on it, and then holds you by the waist
• just needs your closeness, is so touchy and affectionate with you — just you, always you. cos after all you’re his girl, and he wants everyone else to know it — and how can’t they, when you’re just like one person? when you’re practically attached at the hip?
• you sit on the counter of his dressing room, and elvis frames his hands on either side of your thighs. he leans like that until he’s almost standing flush against your front, and you wrap your legs round his waist. you kiss and kiss and kiss
• even though he’s meant to be on stage in — goddamn, less than a minute? you bet your ass he can’t think past the feel of your lips on his own
• stands and rubs his hands down your arms to your elbows in soft, soothing strokes — it comforts you both, those sweet little touches, and it’s just like a grounding assurance
• presses soft kisses all over your face, just adoring how you react — letting out little laughs and trying to swat at him, though the last thing you’d ever want is for him to stop
• tucks your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your temple or forehead
• without him needing to ask, you straighten the collar or tie of his suit. he can’t take his eyes off you when you do this, something so goddamn simple yet intimate, too.
• you always sitting in the PRESLEY chair on his movie sets while he’s out doing takes; watching him work from your spot, having cute candid photos taken of your subtle claim as his girl <3
• and why not? it’s your last name, too. or at least it will be, if it isn’t quite yet <3
• wearing his suit jacket over your shirt while he wears the rest of the set, and being photographed backstage with you standing with your arms held around his waist from behind. he turns his head — with that smile — to look at you while he’s still talking with someone, and the photo that’s taken shows his attention isn’t on them anymore, it’s just wholly on you <3
#elvis#elvis presley#baby <33#am i obsessed with his hands? i think yes 💅🏻#elvis x reader#50s elvis#50s!elvis#50s!elvis x f!reader#elvis aaron presley#elvisaaronpresley#elvis movie#elvis movie {2022}#austin butler elvis presley#austin!elvis presley x reader#austin!elvis x y/n#austin!elvis imagine#austin!elvis fluff#austin!elvis fic#austin!elvis x reader#austin elvis x reader#austin elvis imagine#elvis fanfic#elvis presley x you#elvis presley x reader#elvis presley x y/n#elvis presley x f!reader#elvis x y/n#elvis x you#elvis presley fandom
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