#anyway I’d like to try it again sometime. this was hard to- FUCK
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love grows where my rosemary goes
#rose winters#rosemary winters#resident evil#resident evil 8#starishsky draws#is it rose or rosemary for the purposes of tagging???? who knows#anyway I was trying a new coloring style with this one. like that one with the red outlines on the shadows and the blue bounce lights???#does that make sense????#and also everything looks just kinda glassy I guess???#anyway I’d like to try it again sometime. this was hard to- FUCK#OH MY GOD#I forgot to add like the darker shadows or whatever the shit fuck dude fuck#I never do another level of shadows so I just fucking forgot LMAOOO whoops
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wearing his hoodie w/jongho
words - an amount
genre - smut…
warnings - fingering, degradation (slut), nicknames (baby, honey, good girl), manhandling because of course, cutie patootie jongho, dom!jongho
jongho likes to pretend he doesn’t like it when you wear his clothes
like, you’ll be walking around in one of his hoodies and he’ll just sit and watch you with a disinterested look
or what he assumes is a disinterested look, anyway
everyone bar him can see the cute little smirk that he’s trying so desperately, and yet failing so miserably, to hide
sometimes you’ll ask him what’s wrong and he’ll just respond with ‘that’s my hoodie’ as if trying to insinuate that you shouldn’t be wearing it
but when you suggest (threaten) that you take it off, he just insists that you keep it on
“you’re already wearing it now, baby,” he tries to keep his voice level, but you can hear the panic behind it, “may as well just keep it on, right?”
sometimes you leave it on, but sometimes you don’t
you just like to see the disappointed pout he wears once he realises you’re not wearing it anymore
but if he struggles to hide his true feelings when you’re fully dressed, imagine wearing his hoodie with nothing but a pair of panties
this man will not be able to take his eyes off of you
there’s a cushion that has taken permanent residence over his crotch and when you ask about it he just says he wants to hold something
“well, why don’t you hold onto me instead?” you tease, keeping an innocent lilt to your voice, “i’m sure i’m nicer to squeeze than a measly bit of fabric.”
his already glazed over eyes go wide and he shakes his head
“no! i’m, uh… mad at you,” he stutters out
you take a few steps closer
“mad at me?” you grab the bottom of the hoodie and begin to play with the fabric, completely ‘innocently’
it’s your your fault if the material lifts up a few times to reveal the purple lace
it’s also not your fault that it’s jongho’s favourite pair you’re wearing - the one that matches his mic
jongho does a few slow blinks as he tries to keep his gaze on your face and not on your soft thighs that you keep exposing more of every time your hands pull as the hem
“you’re wearing my hoodie again,” his voice is suddenly more breathy than it was moments before
you can’t help but wonder how close he is to snapping and ripping the hoodie off you himself
not because he doesn’t like when you wear it - you both know it’s a lie when he says that - but because he’s desperate to get to what’s underneath
“it’s comfy,” you shrug, “and i didn’t want to wear trousers.”
his eyes trail down your body at the mention of your bare legs and they finally settle on what he’d been trying to hard to avoid
“i can see that, baby,” he grunts, rubbing over his face with his hands, “any reason?”
you shrug, trying to think of an excuse
it only takes seconds for you to realise that the truth would be better
“you were too focussed on work,” you get even closer as you speak, until finally you’re stood in between his open thighs, “i thought if i misbehaved you’d pay attention to me.”
he groans, tipping his head back as his final piece of resolve floats away
“what, so you thought if you come down here, half fucking naked with nothing on but my hoodie and your panties, i’d fuck you?”
well, yes… of course you did
still, you didn’t dignify his obvious question with an answer
“how do you know i have nothing on under here?” you pull at the bottom of the hoodie once more
then suddenly there’s hands on your hips and you don’t have time to think before you’re being pulled onto your boyfriend’s lap
the cushion is gone, now - he must have pushed it away just moments before he grabbed you - and you can feel his hard-on sitting pretty against your clit
if it weren’t for the iron-like grip he still had on your hips, you’d push your luck and grind down on it
“because i can see your fucking nipples, baby,” he grows into your ear, gently nipping on the lobe before pulling away, “poking through my hoodie and teasing me, hm? i bet that was all part of the plan, wasn’t it…”
you wriggle a little in his grasp, wanting to get some friction against your core, but he grips you harder and his fingers dig into your hips
“stop moving,” he glares at you, “i’m not finished talking, and i can’t focus when my little slut is busy rubbing her wet fucking pussy all over my dick.”
by the tone in his voice, you know there’s no room for argument
you sit still for him, trying to ignore the ever-growing ache that sits at the bottom of your stomach
“good girl,” he says, although he doesn’t quite sound like he believes it, “now, you’re going to sit there and take what i fucking give you, hm?”
you nod desperately
he chuckles as he reaches down and slips a finger inside of the soft lace, making you gasp
“but don’t even think about cumming until i say so, sweetheart,” he begins to rub circles against your clit, every stroke growing in speed as he works you towards an orgasm, “baby needs to learn her place, doesn’t she.”
you nod desperately, whimpering away as he works his expert fingers against you
you grow closer by the second as after just a minute or so, you can feel that familiar knot at the bottom of your stomach
you hold your breath, ready to explode and then…
nothing
he pulls his fingers away right at the last second, bringing them up to his mouth to suck the juices off with a smirk
he keeps eye contact with you as his tongue darts out from between his plush lips to lap at his fingers
you whine
“oh hush,” he mumbles in between licks, “you brought this on yourself, honey. now be a good slut and suffer the consequences.”
#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez oneshot#ateez fic#ateez smut#ateez scenarios#jongho x reader#jongho oneshot#jongho smut#jongho scenario
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[cw: g!p reader, edging, daddy kink, handjob, dacryphilia, degradation]
residents of goon central have witnessed me screaming over this pair of pics a few days ago bcs FUUUCKCJDH… anyway here’s something a lil different from me, i hope you guys are into it as much as i am! ehehuehe 🤤🤤..
it’s really, really not your fault that every time you see your girlfriend in the screens doing what she does best, you get so hard 😣 even worse that yujin brings you along whenever her and the girls are doing their promotions in music shows so you have to sit with ive’s staff trying to act like your girlfriend’s performance isn’t affecting you in the slightest 😔😔 and ofc she’s the only one who notices your behaviour when the group comes back from yet another successful stage.. she knows you too well after all 🤭 “what’s wrong with you..?” she’d whisper in your ear since she didn’t want anybody else hearing just in case it was serious… but then she sees you tugging on your jeans and immediately she knew.. 🫣
yujinnie telling the girls that she can’t go to the celebratory dinner tonight bcs you were ‘sick’ and she wanted to take care of you :(( she says that but as soon as you’ve driven her to your house and close the door behind you, she was pushing you down on your couch and slowly crawling towards you with a sick smile on her pretty face 😵💫 “i got you feeling funny again, huh baby? i knew you’d like me in that outfit.. maybe i should wear neckties more often if it’ll have you acting like this…” yujin was saying as her hand slowly trailed up your thigh and cupped your hard dick through your jeans, making you whimper slightly.. “don’t be shy now, love. it’s completely normal.” she was saying bcs you’re not at all too experienced and she knew she made you feel so many things at once 🤤🤤
yujin unzipping your jeans and making you get rid of it yourself.. her eyes fixed on your bulge the entire time, licking her lips bcs she was excited to see your reaction to what she has in her mind for you.. 🤭 only the most pleasurable things for her princess, but yujin needs to satisfy her own version of fun sometime, right? 😉 “fuck, you’re too cute.. sometimes i wish i had the dick in the relationship. i’d fuck you so good…” and you know what? she would! she’s very good with a strap, and you’re speaking from personal experience iykwim 👀 “but i enjoy this too.” she settles herself in between your legs and leans down to kiss you softly with her hands carefully touching you everywhere except where you need it most.. she’s such a tease 😤
finally, yujin pulls your dick out of your boxers and starts stroking slowly, making you moan into her mouth :(( she keeps kissing you though, her eyes slightly open so she could see precum leak out of your slit and coat your dick as well as her hand… then she’s kissing down your neck, your moans free to fill the air while your own hands find themselves tangled up in yuin’s hair… yujin keeps the same slow pace for minutes on end so you’re left sitting there desperate.. “daddy, please…” you whimpered, clumsily bucking your hips into her hand..
you feel her smirk against your skin.. you knew the nickname would do something to her 🤭 you learned that she really, really liked it after you let it slip out while she had been pegging you that one time 🫣🫣 “what do you need daddy to do, angel?” she’d ask, holding your dick a bit tighter so she could watch you throw head back and moan loudly… seeing tears well up in your ears got her so wet already 🤤 but she had to control her urges.. she wants you to stay at her mercy for a while before she starts paying attention to what her body needs 😋 “speak, or i won’t know.” yujin demands, slowing down even further and making you whine bcs you were already starting to lose the build up…
“f-faster, please daddy…”
“good girl.”
and she starts it up again of course! as much as she wanted to taste you, there was something about watching you slowly fall apart under her touch that clouded her mind and just made her unable to do anything but what she was doing right now 😵💫 as promised, yujin was much faster, but she was jerking you off in a way that made sure she wasn’t pushing you to your climax too quickly.. it irritated you and it showed! it showed in the way you moved your hips to meet yujin’s strokes, the way your eyebrows were deeply furrowed, and the constant whining and frustrated noises that came out of your mouth.. yujin enjoyed every single second of all this 🤭
“mmhn.. looks like my baby wants to cum, huh? having a hard time getting there?” she’d ask, but you wouldn’t answer bcs you were too focused on trying to even get an inch closer to the edge 😔 you don’t understand why yujin was doing this at all! she always wanted to make you cum and she could do it so good.. it couldn’t wrap around your little head that she was playing with you for her own amusement 💔💔 yujin pressing her thumb over your slit and squeezing your length gently.. a satisfied hum leaving her lips when she noticed just how much of a mess you’ve made on her hand and she hasn’t even let you cum yet 😵💫
yujin hears your moans getting higher, feels your grip on her arm getting tighter and the evil girl slows down again, making you choke out a sob.. “d-daddy, why…! i-i can’t keep doing this.. please, let me cum..!!” you’d say as tears streamed down your pretty little face :(( yujin pouts, “what do you mean you can’t? not even for me?” she’d ask and you knew she was full of shit bcs she’s grinning widely while you’re literally in tears… evil, evil girl 😵💫😵💫 “p-p-please… please i’ll do anything..” you would beg and oh, this would just inflate her ego so much 😣
you’re tugging at her shirt, sobbing while thrusting your hips into her now-stilled hand and saying that you’ll do anything once she’s made you cum… so naturally yujin would want to tease you even more??? she’d stroke you again, way faster this time, “should’ve known you’d be so easy to break down like this. you’re hopeless, (y/n),” yujin would say. “you didn’t even think of hiding away at the bathroom to play with yourself… always needing daddy to do things like this for you.. i love it, but that says a lot about what you’re capable of, huh? nothing.” see now that was just mean.. but somehow it felt… good?? what the fuck was wrong with you.
“you’re useless without me… i’d love it if you appreciated me more.” with her free hand, yujin was spreading your legs and she dug nails into your skin, making you hiss in pain…
“ahh—! i-i do! i love you, i.. mmh…! i love you so much…”
yujin knew it was the truth. she’d be crazy to doubt the very obvious love you have for her but listen, she was having so much fun 🤭 “really?” she tilts her head, she’d be blushing while she increased her pace, pushing you closer and closer to that climax you wanted so much 🫣 “y-yes! yes, really.. m-more than anything…” satisfied (and lowkey hating that you’re crying 💔 as pretty as you looked, you’re still her precious baby! ☹️), yujin speeds up once again, her free hand now squeezing and fondling your boob while you’re moaning her name 😵💫
“always daddy’s dumb good girl, hm? willing to say and do anything for me, just like i taught you.. you might get to cum inside me tonight, angel.. do you want that?” yujin asks, giving you soft kisses all over your collarbone.. and god, you couldn’t even reply.. the thought of fucking yujin’s cunt full of your seed all night long was enough to completely push you over that edge, giving you what must’ve been the best orgasm you’ve had today…
but the night was still young! and with the way yujin diligently licked off your cum from her hand excruciatingly slow (she made you watch every second) and took off her own jeans and pants before straddling you and saying, “now be a darling for daddy and breed me…” this night was going to be a very long and very… enjoyable night for the two of you 😋💓
#ive smut#ive x fem reader#ive imagines#ive x reader#ive thoughts#ahn yujin smut#ahn yujin x fem reader#ahn yujin imagines#ahn yujin x reader#ahn yujin thoughts#yujin smut#yujin x fem reader#yujin imagines#yujin x reader#yujin thoughts#girl group smut#girl group thoughts#girl group x fem reader#girl group x reader#girl group imagines#g!p reader
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Learning to Live Part 25
summary: Javier is taking you on a trip to Miami to meet the Murphys, and baby fever hits hard when you see each other interacting with their small children.
rating: E (18+! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, chair sex, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, anal play (f receiving), kinda double penetration, masturbation (m), sneaking around (you don’t want the Murphys to hear you), baby fever, (MASSIVE) breeding kink, dirty talk, spanking, (1) Papí, spit as lube, traveling, Javier being really cute with children, Javier losing his mind at seeing you with children, Steve giving Javier so much shit, Steve trying to keep you from fucking in the guest room and you two doing it anyway, grumpy Javier, feelings of insecurity/body insecurity (and Javier making you feel better), pregnancy discussion/talks of the future)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader
word count: 18.2k+
a/n: Happy Halloween! This is my treat to you for Halloween and the end of Kinktober. I hope you enjoy! This Miami arc is either going to be two or three chapters long. Thank you to the lovely @senorabond for betaing! And also, thank you to @juletheghoul for ensuring my Spanish makes sense!
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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Javier’s cell phone only rang for four reasons: his dad was calling, you were calling, it was one of the Murphys; Steve for their regularly scheduled Thursday chat, or Olivia wanting to talk to her tío and sometimes needing help with her Spanish homework. Last, and the phone calls he always ignored outside of business hours, were from his office.
The first time your boyfriend took a call while he was with you, you’d barely been dating a week.
While the two of you were cuddling on the couch on a Monday, watching some movie you couldn't even remember the name of because your brain at the time was focusing on getting naked instead of actually watching it, his phone on the coffee table in front of you started ringing. He apologized when he picked it up to check the caller ID and apologized again when he told you he had to answer it since it was his niece and got up from the couch.
It should’ve been an endearing moment, but your confusion had overshadowed it because you knew he had no siblings. You could admit it was pretty cute overhearing him in the kitchen talking to her in the sweetest voice he clearly saved for children, asking about how her summer was going.
After he hung up and returned to you, he’d explained: she was his best friend, Steve’s daughter, and he was her godfather, a role he took very seriously by being the best uncle to her and her younger brothers.
That was many months ago, and with today being Friday and Javi’s phone ringing on his bedside table in your shared bedroom, you had a feeling it was Olivia since he talked to his dad on his way home—the problem, though: your boyfriend was in the shower.
This seemed like an order-in kind of night, with it being the end of the week and you both wanting to relax. You’d just set the bag of Chinese food on the coffee table when you heard his phone going off. In less than thirty seconds, you had it in hand, the caller ID reading ‘Murphys,’ which was their landline, and confirmed your suspicion. Stepping inside the bathroom, the sounds of water roaring and splashing in the shower stall and the overhead fan humming greeted you; the large mirror over the sink was fogged up, steam permeating the air.
“Babe?” you said loud enough for him to hear.
The frosted glass door rolled open enough for Javi to stick out his head, his hair lathered in shampoo.
“Yeah?”
“Olivia’s calling.” You held up the ringing phone.
“Can you answer it and tell her I’ll call her back later?”
Now, Steve and his family were well aware of who you were, and you knew all about them, but you’ve never spoken to any of them. So this request had a nervous flutter erupting in your belly.
“Yeah,” you answered. “I can do that.”
A swoon-worthy smile appeared on his face. “Thanks, mi amor (my love).”
Immediately, you clicked the answer button, putting the phone up to your ear as you said, “Javi’s phone,” before making your way back into the bedroom and shutting the bathroom door behind you.
“You’re not Javi…” said a deep male voice that had your eyes going wide.
“You’re not Olivia…”
There was amusement in his tone, not expecting the smooth southern drawl. “No, I’m not. I’m her father, Steve Murphy, and you must be the woman my best friend is madly in love with.”
With a smile, you replied, “That’s me,” and introduced yourself.
“It’s nice to finally meet you—well, talk to you, at least. I gotta say I don’t think I’ve ever seen Javi this happy in all the time I’ve known him. You’ve been real good for him, and I’m glad he finally found someone who can put up with his grumpy ass.”
Warmth spread through your chest, his last comment making you giggle.
“You wanna know a secret?” you whispered.
“Yeah?”
“When he’s with me, he’s not grumpy. He smiles a lot and laughs. He’s really adorable, to be honest.”
“I don’t know if I’d call him adorable, but he’s like that with my kids, too.”
“Oh, Javi with kids is my kryptonite—he’s so good with them.”
“Let me tell you, when I came home to Miami after getting Escobar, he stayed with us for a while, and it shocked me how good he was with Olivia.” That didn’t surprise you. He’d grown up with practically all his cousins being younger than him, and he has a lot of them. “I don’t know if he told you, but not too long after he quit the DEA, he lived with us for a bit ‘cause he was having a hard time being in Laredo—from what I understand, there are some people there who aren’t too kind to him.”
“That’s an understatement, but yes.”
Javi staying in Miami for a time was something you were aware of.
Being back in Laredo had been hard for him, like Steve said, and he was known to run from his problems, so he went and lived with the Murphys for almost a year in their guest room. Then, one day, his dad called and told him not to worry, but doctors were running some tests after finding a mass on his liver that could possibly be cancerous. Javier’s mother, Antonia, died from breast cancer that wasn’t caught in time, so when he got off the phone, he packed his bags and was on the first flight home.
It was the kick in his ass he needed to realize his dad was all he had left and was worth braving his hometown. Chucho’s mass was benign, and Javi annoyed the fuck out of him his first month back by being a mother hen and fussing over him nonstop.
“Well,” Steve continued, “he came and lived with us and was a huge help with Olivia and Stevie. He was a natural with them—they love Javi more than their actual uncles.”
A grin was on your face, loving to hear that he’d done so well helping them with their children. “And he loves them like they’re his biological niece and nephews.”
“He really does.” There was fondness in his tone. “You know, when we were in Colombia, all the guys we worked with thought he was a giant asshole since he didn’t put up with their shit—I was his partner, and I thought he was a giant asshole, but all the women in the office seemed to love him because he was sweet to them. Your man only lightens up for women and children ‘cause I sure as hell did not have a partner who smiled and laughed a lot. Like, I’m looking at this holiday card y’all sent, and I barely recognize him with that big ‘ol grin.”
The holiday cards had been your idea.
Chucho did the photo shoot, and the picture you both chose had Javi and you in matching outfits of red sweaters and jeans, with him holding you from behind as you both smiled at the camera. Daphne and Velma, the seven-month-old calves you lovingly called your bovine children, were on either side of you wearing fake antlers, all of you in front of the red wooden barn, the bottom of the card reading, ‘Happy holidays from us to you,’ typed in a fancy script.
It was very cute.
It delighted you people were finally getting them, now wondering when you’d get that disapproving call from your mother. You knew it was looming on the horizon when your parents finally got theirs.
“It’s nice, though, right?” You chewed on your lip.
“Oh, it’s more than nice—it’s fuckin’ great! That man has been to hell and back, and it’s about damn time he finally gets to be happy and relax for once. Which reminds me why I called—were you guys able to get that time off next week?”
The two of you hoped to go to Miami the following week; there were just some issues with you getting days off.
“Yes! Javi was going to call you tonight. We can do Thursday through Saturday, but we need to be home Sunday for his birthday because we’re celebrating with his dad.”
“That’s fine! We’re just happy you can come! Excuse me, ma’am, Connie just came in the room and has a question for me,” It sounded like Steve covered the phone, hearing his muffled voice say, “Yes, baby, they’re coming… Thursday through Saturday, they need to be home for Javi’s birthday Sunday… It’s not Javi, it’s his girlfriend… She’s great… You know Javi, he doesn’t want a fuc-flipping birthday party… Fine, I’ll ask her.” Now you could hear him clearly. “My apologies, ma’am. My wife wants to know if you’d like us to throw Javi a birthday party?”
“Oh, you guys are already letting us stay with you. I couldn’t ask you to throw a party.”
“Okay.” He spoke to his wife. “She says that’d be too much since they’re staying with us.”
Noise sounded over the line like the phone was being passed, followed by a woman’s voice now speaking, “Hi, is this Javi’s girlfriend?”
“Yes,” you replied, giving her your name. “Is this Connie?” A baby was babbling in the background, and you thought she might be holding their youngest child.
“It is! It’s so nice to meet you! I can’t wait for you to visit next week.”
“I can’t wait either! I’ve heard so much about all of you, and I’m excited.”
“We’re just as excited! Now, it’d be no problem throwing Javi a little party, and the kids would love to celebrate with him. I mean, they love any excuse to eat cake.”
Giggling, you replied, “Well, we can’t deny the kids cake. If you insist, I’m sure Javi would be touched by the gesture.”
“Great! We’re going to have such a wonderful time. Javi’s told us how much you love the beach, so we’ll have to spend a day there, and I need to go grocery shopping. Is there anything you want to eat while here?”
You were hoping to go to the beach, and happy she mentioned it.
“I can’t think of anything. I’m not picky.”
“If you think of something, just give me a call. We want you to have a great trip.”
“I know it’s going to be amazing,” you said truthfully.
“I hope so! Okay, Steve wants the phone back. Nice to meet you, bye!”
“Nice meeting you, too!”
“It’s me again.” Steve was back on. “Are you guys going to need a ride from the airport?”
The bathroom door opened, and you looked over your shoulder to see Javi coming out in just a white towel wrapped around his waist, his hair blow-dried and styled.
“I don’t know…?” you distractedly answered. With you going on the trip soon, you had been refraining from sucking marks into his skin to avoid any awkward conversations with the Murphy kids. Still, there were fading hickies your eyes took in as they moved down his torso to the tantalizing trail of hair that disappeared beneath the cotton.
With the fan on in the bathroom, he could hear Cielito on the phone; however, he was unable to make out anything she was saying, thinking she might be talking to Robyn or one of his family members. He walked into the room, and she looked over her shoulder at him, his chest puffing out a little at how she was checking him out.
“Who are you talking to?” he whispered.
Her gaze snapped up to meet his. “Steve,” she answered just as quietly.
That had him taken aback since he was pretty sure his best friend and wif-girlfriend had never spoken before. Was it Steve who called and not Olivia? Has she been on the phone with him this entire time?
What were they talking about?
“What does he want?” Javier asked.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” she said to the other man. “Javi’s here, so give me a sec.” She turned in place to face him, covering the speaker. “He called to find out if we could visit next week—which I told him yes, but he just asked if we’ll need a ride from the airport, and I don’t know the answer.”
Immediately, he held out his hand.
She uncovered the phone, talking to his friend again, “Steve, Javi wants to talk to you.” A big smile was on her face. “It was nice talking to you, too… Oh goodness, that’s so sweet… He makes me happy, too. Like super happy.” She shielded her mouth so Javier couldn’t see it, her eyes locked on his, while she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s an amazing boyfriend and so goddamn dreamy. Literally, the best partner I’ve ever had, and I cannot wait to marry him, so he’s mine forever.” What she said made him smile, and his heart skip a beat. Steve must’ve said something funny because she laughed. “Bye, Steve.” She passed the phone to him.
“Hey,” Javier said, with the cell phone pressed to his ear.
“Hey, Jav. Your girlfriend’s great, and we can’t wait to meet her.”
After his last relationship with Lorraine, and how he missed the red flags and ignored his mother’s warnings about her, having his family love the woman standing in front of him, and now Steve also liking her, it reassured him he was making the right choice for who he was going to marry—not that he had any doubts. Javier knew for a fact she was the one he was spending the rest of his life with. It just made him feel great that others could see how amazing she was.
“Yeah, she’s fucking incredible.”
“You’ve got it so bad for her.” Steve chuckled. “I got your holiday card, and I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes—the way you’re smiling, the matching outfits, and the dressed-up cows—”
“Daphne and Velma,” Javier interrupted.
The girls behaved well for the photoshoot—with the help of many treats and pets. He loved how the card turned out and was beyond happy Cielito even wanted to do something like that with him. It made him think of the future and the cards featuring the additions of tiny Peñas and seeing their family grow with each holiday season—showing their friends and relatives how their family had grown. Not that he loved the idea of rubbing their happiness in her parents’ faces or anything…
“These are your—what do you call them? Your bovine children?” He’d mentioned the calves on previous calls.
“Yeah,” he answered. “The red one is Daphne, and the other is Velma.”
“Okay, I’ll admit they’re pretty cute.”
“They are. So anyway, we don’t need you to pick us up,” he said, getting back on topic. “I’m gonna rent a car like I always do.”
“Sounds good.”
He turned away from his future fiancée as he spoke a little quieter, “Did you say anything embarrassing about me?”
His question made his best friend laugh, and he frowned. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, Javi. We talked about how great you are with my kids and that you’re only nice to women and children.”
That didn’t sound too bad.
He whispered, “How’d she react about me being great with the kids?”
Steve laughed again. “Positively. A direct quote is, ‘Javi with kids is my kryptonite.’”
Javier smiled. “Good. Tell mis sobrinos (my niece and nephews) I need them to be extra cute when we visit.”
“Will do. Speaking of the kids, Connie needs my help, so I gotta go.”
“Give them all my love, and I’ll see you next week.”
“I will. Bye, you asshole.”
“Adiós, pendejo (Goodbye, asshole).” He clicked the end call button, walking over to set the phone back on his bedside table.
“You’re a dork,” she said.
Turning toward her, amusement was clear on her face.
“Why am I a dork?” he asked, taking a few steps to stand in front of her.
“Asking my reaction to how good you are with his kids.”
His hands went up to cradle her face. “He said I was great with his kids.”
“Yeah, he did, and he said you were a natural with them.” Her eyes had darkened, her fingers dipping into the top of the towel at his waist as she bit her bottom lip—she was turned on, and it made him smirk, his cock beginning to harden.
“You like that?” he asked, leaning forward until his mouth was a hair's breadth away from hers, her eyes closing. “You like that if I got you pregnant, I’d be great with our baby?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
This was the moment his brain decided to remind him he needed to book everything for their trip right away.
His eyes squeezed shut, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out as he pressed his forehead to hers.
“I’m sorry, Cielito,” he sounded pained. “We can’t fool around right now. I’ve got shit I need to do.”
“But we were about to have really kinky sex,” she groaned.
“I’ll make it up to you after I get all our stuff booked and we eat dinner.” He sweetly kissed her. “Anything you want,” he said when he broke away, looking her in the eyes. “Anything.”
“Okay. That’s acceptable. I both love and hate that you’re a responsible adult.” She pouted. “Use my credit card and book us in business class since it’s two seats in a row. That way, we won’t have to worry about anyone sitting with us.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I didn’t want anyone sitting with us either and planned on booking business—maybe first, depending on the price.”
“Meh, stick with business.”
“Okay. Window or aisle?”
“Window.”
“Good, ‘cause I like the aisle.”
That made her grin. “It’s like we’re meant to be or something. Next, you’re gonna tell me I can have your peanuts.”
“Oh, yeah, I never eat them. I usually just have a drink.”
Whiskey on the rocks.
“We’re soulmates.”
“We are.” He agreed with a nod.
“Ugh.” She stepped away from him, and his mouth turned down, his hands falling. “You’re basically naked, and I want to jump your bones. Put on some clothes, you saucy temptress.” Her head turned, shielding her eyes with her hand.
“Saucy temptress?” he chuckled, walking so close as he passed her their arms brushed, heading toward his dresser.
“You heard me—seducing me with your manly wiles and, god, your rockin’ bod. Okay, I’m going to the living room because you are so close to getting your dick sucked.” He opened a drawer, pulling out his sweatpants. “You know,” she said, still standing in the same spot but shuffling to face him. “You’re gonna be on the phone, right?” The towel dropped to the floor as he pulled on the pants.
“Yeah,” he answered.
“So, I mean, while you’re talking, theoretically, I could suck your dick while you’re doing it.”
He sucked in a breath, his half-hard cock twitching at the thought.
“You’re the saucy temptress,” he rasped, bending down with a groan to grab his towel and moving to toss it in the nearby dirty clothes hamper. “No, mi amor (my love), that’s how I end up accidentally booking us on a flight to fucking Australia or some shit.”
“You’re no fun.” She was pouting again, looking adorable.
“But I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The Laredo Airport wasn’t very big.
Built by the U.S. Government during World War II, it was used by the United States Air Force, then during the Cold War, it was a pilot training base. With the defense cutbacks after the Vietnam War, the military presence ended by the tail end of 1973, with commercial air service not arriving until the summer of 1975.
The commercial air service? It would take you to exotic destinations, like Dallas/Fort Worth and Houston-Intercontinental. Basically, you flew from Laredo’s tiny airport to one of the larger Texan airports and, from there, headed to your desired location.
This is how you ended up on a flight from Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport at 8:45 AM on a Thursday morning in December.
The trip would only be three days long, so you both packed carry-ons that Javi insisted he carry, or roll, for your suitcase; he brought a leather duffle bag for himself. He safely stored the luggage in the overhead compartment, and you had seated yourself by the window and buckled in, your boyfriend beside you in the only other seat in your row.
For a comfortable flight, you wore leggings, an oversized T-shirt, and tennis shoes. Javier? The man refused to look anything but his best out in public, so he was in his usual tight-ass jeans, a white button-up with a blue patterned design, and his black leather jacket—to go to Miami, where the weather was hot and, from what you were told, humid.
The things he did in the name of being the sexiest man alive.
Your leg was bouncing, your shoulders tense, chewing on your thumb.
Warm fingers laced with those of your free hand, Javi gently squeezing it.
“You a nervous flyer?” he whispered.
Turning your head toward him, you answered, “Little bit. It’s mostly take-off and landing. Once we’re in the air, I’m fine.”
“Yeah? How can I help?”
“I don’t know. Talk to me? Are you a nervous flyer?”
A little smile was on his lips, barely shaking his head. “No. I’m used to it with all the traveling I did for work. I will say I prefer planes over helicopters, though.”
The last of the passengers were boarding, but you aren’t paying any of them mind, in your little bubble with Javi.
“Did you fly in helicopters a lot?”
“Thankfully, no. We used them mostly when we needed to go out into the jungle, which I always fucking hated.”
“The helicopter ride or the jungle?”
“Both. It’s hot in there, and the animals. I, uh, don’t like snakes…”
His answer made you smile as you replied, “That’s very Indiana Jones of you.” A thought came to you. “Oh! Would you wear a fedora if I got you one?”
His eyes squinted. “No...”
The pilot came over the speaker.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Flight AA319 with service from Dallas/Fort Worth to Miami. We are currently second in line for take-off and should be in the air in approximately ten minutes. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage underneath your seat or in the overhead compartments. We also ask that your seats and table trays are in the upright position for take-off. Please turn off all personal electronic devices, including laptops and cell phones. Smoking is prohibited for the duration of the flight. Thank you for flying American Airlines. We hope you enjoy your flight.”
You frowned at Javi, going back to your conversation. “But you’ve got the leather jacket—” You patted it over his pec. “—and the button up, that we can sluttily unbutton to show some skin, and we’ll get you a pair of khaki pants.”
His eyes remained narrowed. “Why do you always want me to dress up as characters played by that guy—what’s his name? Harry Ford?”
“Harrison Ford, and it’s not my fault he’s played some iconic characters that you’d look hot dressed up as—don’t lie to me and say you wouldn’t enjoy dressing up as Han Solo. You think he’s the coolest guy.”
He was frowning now. “Han’s okay, but Boba Fett’s cooler.” He shrugged.
Your eyebrow rose. “Do you want me to get you some Boba Fett armor so you can pretend to be a space bounty hunter, and we can make it horny and have you hunt me down?”
The wheels were turning in his head, and he seemed to be thinking it over, which made you giggle.
“It’d be too uncomfortable,” he finally answered. “And I wouldn’t be able to see shit in the helmet. If I’m gonna dress up as a Star Wars character, I’ll stick with Han.”
“Smart man.”
Javi kept talking to you about nothing important to keep you distracted as the plane started moving, only pausing when the flight attendants went over the safety briefing.
What you didn’t expect was right before take-off, he kissed you, and not a chaste kiss but a toe-curling, forgot-how-to-think, skin-heating, breath-stealing, tongue-tangling kiss that had you so caught up in him, you didn’t even notice the plane had left the ground, or rose thousands of feet into the sky.
When you finally broke away for air, you felt dazed; your eyes had closed, panting breaths and smiling. Arousal swirled in your belly and dripped into your panties, feeling the cotton dampened and sticking to your skin.
“Still feeling nervous?” he asked, kissing your chin.
“God, no.” You replied breathily. “Feeling horny.”
A ding sounded, the light showing ‘seat belts needed to be fastened’ turning off, a flight attendant announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the fasten seat belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin.”
“Javi?” Your eyes opened.
“Yes, Cielito?”
Leaning close to press your lips to his ear, you quietly asked, “Have you ever joined the mile-high club?”
He audibly gulped. “No.”
“Would you like to?” His jacket was unzipped, and you walked your fingers over the skin on his chest, revealed by the top few buttons being undone, his aviators hanging in the dip.
“Hold on.” Suddenly, his seatbelt was clicking open, and he was rising, keeping his head ducked until he was in the aisle, hastening toward the front of the plane. Watching curiously, he opened a lavatory door and went inside, coming out a minute later, a grumpy look on his perfect face as he made his way back to you and sat down beside you with a grunt.
“It’s too fucking small,” he said, turning his torso to face you. “And I think we’d get caught if we tried.” He looked so disappointed, and the news made you sigh.
“It’s good one of us is a responsible adult making the right decisions.”
Leaning closer, he whispered, “I can get a blanket from the flight attendant and finger you under it if you really want to get off while we’re flying.”
The idea caused your cunt to clench hard around nothing.
“That sounds so good, but I’d want us both to get off. Guess we’re just gonna have to fuck when we go to bed tonight, and you’ll have to keep me quiet.” Your hand rubbed along his thigh, his eyes darkening.
“I love you so fucking much,” he rasped.
“I love you, too.”
“Steve would hate us fucking in the guest room.”
“That just makes you want to do it more, doesn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah.” He smirked.
“You’re such an asshole to him,” you giggled.
“He deserves it,” he replied, closing what little distance was between you to kiss your lips.
The flight was barely three hours long, which you spent reading the small book stashed in your purse, your boyfriend beside you with his reading glasses on, his big hand holding his own book you’d kept for him.
When the flight attendant came down the aisle with the drink cart and snacks, Javi got a whiskey, while you got ginger ale and both bags of peanuts.
The books were put away when it was time to land, and he held your hand tight while the other caressed your face as he distracted you with another mind-blowing kiss—you’d never enjoyed taking off and landing so much.
Off the plane, Javi had the bags—carrying his duffle by the handles and rolling your luggage through the airport to the rental car agency. You took his bag when you got to the counter so he could fish his wallet out of his back pocket, passing the employee his driver’s license with you standing beside him.
The dark-haired man on the other side was smiling as he read the card and started inputting the information into a computer, his name tag reading Martin and beneath it, ‘Hablo Español.’
“Welcome to Miami, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Martin said, his words heavily accented. Your eyes rounded, Javi’s arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into him. “I hope you had a pleasant trip!”
“It wasn’t too bad,” your future husband replied. “Right, Mrs. Peña?” He was smirking when he turned his head toward you, looking beyond delighted.
“Right, Mr. Peña,” you answered with a smile, getting closer to him by hooking your arm around his middle, resting your head against his chest. “The flight was pretty great.”
“Awe,” Martin replied. “Newlyweds, no? Here on your honeymoon?” He glanced up from what he was doing.
“Something like that,” Javi responded, kissing your hair.
The conversation transitioned to business, with your boyfriend having to sign a lot of paperwork before he handed you a small stapled stack and the employee directed you where to go to get the car, which involved getting on a shuttle bus.
The sun was shining down from the clear blue sky, the temperature hot and humid, Javi having to take off his leather jacket. You were more than happy to carry it along with the papers for the car while he took care of lugging around the bags when they dropped you off at the car lot. A stop had to be made in a small, blissfully air-conditioned building to get the keys and have someone take you to where the vehicle was parked. You would think for such a short trip and the small amount of stuff you had, he would’ve rented a full-size sedan at most—nope, Javi rented an SUV, a brand new forest green ‘98 Ford Explorer, to be exact.
His aviators were on, leaving you with the bags on the ground at your feet. At the same time, he meticulously inspected the SUV’s exterior for any scratches or dings that needed to be reported so they weren’t blamed on you, rubbing his thumb over some spots.
Sometimes—well, a lot of the time when you were out in public—he had an intimidating aura about him, ‘just don’t fuck with me’ vibes wafting off of him with the grumpy expression on his face and how confidently he moved about. It came in handy when you were in crowded places because people stayed out of his way and didn’t bother you—instead of scary dog privilege, you had scary boyfriend privilege. An issue with scary boyfriend privilege: he was making the rental car agency worker extremely nervous, the poor man holding his clipboard and sweating profusely, which you didn’t think had anything to do with the weather.
He was standing by you as Javi did his thing, shorter than your boyfriend with light skin, brown hair, and if you squinted, he kind of looked like Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle—same hairstyle, same forehead.
“He’s a teddy bear,” you whispered to the employee.
There was confusion on his face when he looked at you. “What?” he asked.
“Javi—” You nodded in the direction of the man, who was crouched at the passenger side door and using his thumb to see if a mark was dirt or a scratch. “—he’s a teddy bear. It’s just how his resting face looks. Watch this.” You called out to Javi, “Find anything, baby?”
“No,” he answered, grunting as he rose to stand. His hands were on his hips as he gave the side of the vehicle another look over.
“I love you,” you told him.
His head turned in your direction, giving you a beaming smile. “I love you, too, mi amor (my love).”
He looked back at the SUV, and you said quietly out of the corner of your mouth, “See.”
“I didn’t notice anything,” Javi told the employee, heading your way and wiping his hands on his jeans.
“That’s great, sir,” the worker replied. “I just need you to sign here.” He pointed at a place on the paper clipped to his clipboard with the pen he showed your boyfriend. Javi was quickly signing and taking the offered keys.
“Thank you,” your boyfriend said, shaking the other man’s hand.
“No problem. If you have any issues, just give us a call.”
“Sounds good.”
The employee went away.
The vehicle was already unlocked, so Javi walked over to the front passenger-side door. “Let me get your door, Mrs. Peña,” he said as he opened it.
It made you giggle, moving his way with his jacket and the paperwork still held in your arms and hand, avoiding the bags on the ground. “That really made your day, didn’t it?” you asked, leaning in to kiss him when you were in front of him.
“Yes, Mrs. Peña,” he murmured against your lips, feeling him smile. One of his hands was on the top of the door with the keys tucked in his palm, his other grabbing a handful of your ass.
“You’re adorable, Mr. Peña.” Breaking away, you continued, “Give me the keys so I can get the AC going.” There was a grin under his perfectly trimmed mustache as he dangled the keys in front of your face, and you maneuvered the stuff in your arms to free up a hand to grab them—he pulled them away before the tips of your fingers even touched the metal.
You glared at him when he said, “Ask nicely for them this time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Inhaling deeply, you let the air leave your nose in a huff. “My love, may I please have the keys so I can get the AC going?”
“Of course, baby.” He handed them to you. “I’ll take care of the bags.” Leaning in, his lips met your cheek in a loud smacking kiss, slapping your ass before he walked away.
Miami had become a home away from home for Javier. It was a place where he could relax and be surrounded by the Murphys, whom he considered family even though they didn’t share blood.
Colombia never felt like home.
He knew he wasn’t welcome down there, finding his sparse apartments cold and lifeless, the only personal touch he made in the later years being the ofrenda for his late mother. There was no relaxing in South America when each morning he woke up could’ve been his last. Sure, he had Steve and Connie for a lot of it, but they were just as stressed as he was, and more so when Olivia came about, to the point Connie just up and left, back to the States.
Colombia was never home, and at the time he was sent back to Texas after his fuck up with Los Pepes, Laredo didn’t feel like home either.
He hadn’t known where he belonged when a good portion of the people in the town where he was born and raised still judged him for something he’d done over a decade earlier, a handful even hostile toward him.
After Steve finished their work and got Pablo Escobar, he returned to Florida to his wife and kid. They invited Javier to visit and stay in their guest room for however long he needed, and he had. They wouldn’t take any money he tried to offer them, but they accepted his help around the house and caring for Olivia, who was five by then.
Then he was called back to South America, and upon returning to the U.S. after that stint, he stayed with his dad for a month before he was in Miami again, that time for about a year, where he helped out with their barely ten-month-old, Stevie, and seven-year-old Olivia.
After going back to Laredo to be with his dad, he’d take occasional weekend trips like he and Cielito were doing now to stay with the family. Those trips became less frequent when they adopted Nate—he felt it was important they all had time to bond with their new addition without him being in the way.
He spent so much time in this Florida city, he knew his way around pretty well, like how it was faster to take 874 South instead of Ronald Reagan Turnpike, and as a bonus, they’d avoid tolls.
The air conditioning was cranked high, whooshing loudly while a Spanish station played loud enough to hear. He had one hand gripping the steering wheel, the fingers of his other laced with those of the woman he was going to marry, resting on her thigh.
She was looking out at the scenery in interest as they drove.
“Why’d you get this car?” she asked, staring out her window.
“So we’d have room for the little passengers.” Bringing her hand up, he kissed the back of it.
She looked at him. “The kids are gonna want to ride with us?”
He glanced at her, resting their hands back on her leg, smiling. “Oh, yeah. At least Olivia and Stevie—Nate’s too young to care. Doing the whole car seat thing in a smaller car fucking sucks.”
“So, what I’m hearing is we will be getting something like this when the baby-making starts and my car will have to go?”
Her car was a tiny two-door Honda, and just thinking about getting a car seat in it was making his back hurt, her question also causing his chest to go tight from happiness.
His eyes were back on the road. “Sorry, baby.” He squeezed her hand. “I know you love your car. I was thinking something bigger than this.”
“True,” she replied. “We gotta have room for all those babies you’re gonna knock me up with.”
A shock of arousal shot through his belly.
He had to clear his throat, his voice a little deeper. “Yeah…”
“I can’t believe that innocent comment turned you on,” she laughed, and he frowned.
“Don’t laugh,” he grumbled, having to wiggle a tiny bit in his seat with how blood had rushed to his dick.
Immediately, she stopped but still sounded amused. “I’m sorry, babe. I know it excites you a lot.”
“Excites you a lot, too.”
“Yes, it does. So, let’s talk about something safe. How long before we’re there?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
“That’s not too bad.”
She questioned him about what they lived close to, and he answered they were near a zoo, some parks, and the ocean was a ten-minute drive.
The Murphys lived in a one-story ranch-style house with an A-shaped gable roof extending over the front porch. The stucco on the outside was painted a golden yellow with crimson trim, and the window panes were outlined in bright white.
In the driveway, Connie’s minivan and Steve’s little truck were parked. Javi pulled in behind his best friend’s rig, and not even thirty seconds later the front door was opening, hearing muffled, high-pitched squeals.
“Hey,” he said to Cielito, getting her attention. “Relax. They’re gonna love you. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Promise?”
He smiled, letting go of her hand to hold up his pinky. “I pinky promise.” That made her smile as she looped hers with his, and he leaned in to kiss her quickly.
“Okay, we better get out,” he said.
“Okay.”
Out of the vehicle, Javier walked around the front, a tiny dirty blonde toddler screaming at the top of his lungs as he ran out of the house, “Tío (Uncle)! Tío! Tío! Tío! Tíoooooo!”
It made him smile, crouching and opening his arms to catch the little boy, holding and hugging him as he stood back up. “Mi sobrino (My nephew)!” The child was securely sitting on one of his arms, looking more like his dad than the last time he saw him. “You’ve gotten so big, Stevie!” He tickled the toddler’s belly, making him laugh and squirm.
Connie came out with Nate on her hip and Steve smiling beside her.
“What are you feeding him?” Javier asked his friends. “How has he grown so much in, what, eight, nine months?”
“Kids grow fast, Javi,” Steve answered. “Nate’s already walking.”
His eyes went wide, getting a good look at the baby who’d only been six or so months the last time he was here and now was over a year old and a toddler—he was bigger, his olive-colored arms not as chubby, the black curls on top of his head longer, and eyes still as dark as he remembered.
“You’ve gotta be fuc—” The other adults gave him looks, quickly correcting himself. “—freaking kidding me. He’s walking? Already?”
“Yep,” Connie answered. “And talking. Right now, he’s tired because it’s nap time. Isn’t that right, baby?” she cooed, kissing Nate’s hair, his head resting against her shoulder and babbling.
He was stunned at how quickly they grew in so little time, feeling a ball of anxiety form in his gut, thinking about his future children and losing so much time with them because of work. Dread was heavy like a stone on his chest at the thought of missing milestones of his kid’s growth.
Fingers snapped in front of his face to get his attention, hearing his name and realizing it was Steve, Javier swallowing hard.
“What?” he asked.
His best friend’s eyebrow rose. “I asked if you were gonna be polite and introduce us to your girlfriend.”
“Oh, shi-shoot.” She was on the side with his empty arm, and he rubbed his hand up her back, smiling. “Sorry, Steve, Connie, this is the woman I’m gonna marry—” He told them her name. “—or I just call her mi Cielito, my little heaven.” He kissed her temple. “Cielito, these are my best friends, Steve, Connie, Connie’s got Nate, and—” Straightening, he looked at the child in his arms. “Hey buddy, you wanna tell her your name?” he asked gently. Stevie hid his face in Javier’s neck, and his big hand went to the back of his head while his parents laughed. “Awe, it’s okay, bud.” He rubbed over the boy’s hair. “I know she’s a new person. She’s really nice and excited to meet you, and she makes amazing cookies.”
His little head popped up. “Cookies?” his tiny voice asked.
Javier smiled. He knew that’d get him. “Yeah, she makes amazing cookies.”
“I want cookies,” Stevie replied. His attention turned to Connie. “Can we have cookies, Mommy?”
“One second, baby boy.” She walked toward Cielito to whisper something in her ear.
His girlfriend nodded her head, answering, “Sure! I can do that!”
“Is it really okay?” the other woman asked, meeting her eyes.
“Yeah!”
“Okay.” Connie looked at her eldest son. “The nice lady says she’ll make cookies with you, but you’ll have to tell her your name.”
The boy looked past Javi to excitedly shout at Cielito, “Stevie!” Reaching his little arms toward her, and it made warmth spread through him when, without missing a beat, she took the toddler from him.
“Hi, Stevie,” she said with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
They were facing him, and Javier pointed at her. “She’s gonna be your tía (aunt), Stevie.”
The child’s eyes moved from him to her. “Tía?” he asked, shoving a finger at her chest.
“Yeah, bud, she’s your tía (aunt), and I’m your tío (uncle).”
Tiny blue eyes met his. “Tío—” His head turned to her. “—Tía.”
“Yes.” She confirmed. “And you’re Stevie.” She gently poked his chest.
“Stevie!” He clapped his hands. “We’re gonna make cookies, Tía?”
“Yes, your mom said after your nap.”
“Well, let’s head inside then, guys,” grown-up Steve announced.
“Come with me,” Connie told his girlfriend. “The men can get the bags, and I’ll put the boys down for a nap.”
“Okay,” she replied.
It made him smile how easily she went, his eyes on her back with the toddler on her hip, whispering to him, and Javier thought it looked so perfect, so right; his mind was running wild with images of what she’d look like holding their child—wishing she was holding their child. Stevie looked like a miniature version of Steve; would Javier’s child with his future wife look more like him or her? Or would they be a mix of them both? What he knew for sure was they’d be perfect, and he would love them more than anything in the goddamn world.
Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get married.
Hands landed on his shoulders from behind.
“Jesus Christ, Jav,” Steve laughed, giving him a playful shake. He got out of the hold, spinning around to see his friend’s grinning face that made him clench his jaw. “I knew you had it bad, but this is something else—you’re really in love with this girl.”
His eyebrows creased, frowning.
Steve had known about his girlfriend since their relationship began and even gave him wanted and unwanted advice when he did and didn’t need it—he knew damn well Javier loved her. He’d been on his ass to fucking tell her, like how he’s been on his ass to get him to fucking propose, and only now was he actually believing it was all real?
It pissed him off that his best friend doubted his feelings for her.
“Fuck you, man,” he replied, shoving the other man’s shoulder and watching his face fall. “Yeah, I fucking love her. I’ve fucking told you.”
“Hey, hey—” Steve put up his hands in a placating gesture. “—I know you love her, Javier. I’ve known from how you’ve talked about her, but seeing it in person is something else.”
“What do you mean?” His hands were perched on his hips, ignoring the beads of sweat dripping down his spine under his shirt.
Steve smiled. “That ugly mug of yours—” He gestured at Javier’s face. “It’s clear in how you look at her. It’s like you’ve got fuckin’ hearts in your eyes or some shit,” he chuckled, Javier sighing. “I’ve known you for a long fucking time, Javi, and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her.”
The explanation mollified him.
“I’ve never felt like this with anyone but her.”
“I know.” His friend clapped a hand on his bicep. “And I’m really fucking happy for you, Jav.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sweating my balls off. Let’s get inside.”
“Yeah, it’s fucking hot,” he replied, heading toward the back of the rental.
He didn’t need help carrying the bags or directions to the guest room.
The house was nice and cool as he walked inside along the stone tiled floor and directly into their formal sitting room containing a long beige couch against the far left wall with a walnut-colored coffee table in front of it; a smaller version of the sofa along the wall beside the front door and under the large white-framed window, a chair that matched the same style across from it, and end tables at the sides of the couches.
They never actually used this area unless they were hosting guests or during Christmas when Connie would rearrange the furniture to make it picturesque with their tree. Steve thought it was a waste of space; his wife could never know that.
His shoes came off with everyone else’s by the front door, where Connie had a shoe rack overflowing with pairs for adults and children, leaving his next to Cielito’s on the floor. Going further into the room, Steve headed for the kitchen while he turned down the hallway that opened to the right and led to the bedrooms and bathrooms. Olivia’s was the first door on the right. The second was a full bath themed around dolphins, her favorite animal, with them on the shower curtain, the art on the walls, painted on the toothbrush holder, and soap dispenser.
Next was Nate’s room, his door closed and across the hall from his parents’ master suite.
The two boys’ rooms happened to be connected by a bathroom between them. Javier stopped in his tracks at Stevie’s open door—the woman he came here with, the one who made him the happiest man in the world, who he was going to marry and spend the rest of his life with, was sitting on the edge of his nephew’s bed with her back to the door, her attention on the child lying on his side facing her with his eyes closed under a light blanket as she rubbed small circles on his shirt-covered back.
Javier’s eyes crinkled at the edges when he smiled, a soft sigh leaving his lips.
“She volunteered,” Connie whispered behind him, causing him to jump in his skin. “Sorry for scaring you—“ She squeezed his arm reassuringly. “She volunteered,” she continued. “Asked me how she could help and what Stevie’s nap time routine was, and it looks like she’s a pro. She’s great with him.”
“Yeah, she is.” He spoke just as quietly, glancing over his shoulder. “Rubbing his back still puts him to sleep?”
She playfully slapped his arm. “That’s your damn fault.”
“It makes him fall asleep, doesn’t it?”
“Quickest way. We do it with Nate, too.”
“Then why are you mad at me?”
“It’s not right you out-parented us. Now, you better marry this woman, Javier. It’s about damn time you become a father.”
He scratched at his mustache. “You, uh, think I’d be a good dad?”
She looked at him like he was stupid.
“Javier, you’ve always been so much help when you stay with us, and the kids adore you. Yeah, you’re gonna be a fantastic father.”
His throat was feeling tight. Steve arrived at Connie’s back, holding a beer.
“What are y’all whispering about?” the other man quietly asked.
“Javi being a great dad,” his wife replied, looking over her shoulder at him.
“Oh, yeah, we’ve known that for years,” Steve said. “We just didn’t think you’d ever pull your head out of your ass and settle down.”
“Didn’t find the right person until now.” Javier shrugged. He peeked into the room, seeing his future wife was still occupied. Turning his head, he told the other two, “Follow me to the guest room. I need to ask you a favor.”
To be honest, you were really nervous about helping with nap time and stayed a little longer than necessary, rubbing the sleeping three-year-old's back to ensure he truly was passed out.
There’d been whispers in the hall that hadn’t helped your nerves, wondering what the other three adults were saying amongst themselves and knowing it was probably about you, hoping it was positive. Steve and Connie seemed to like you, and she had trusted you to help with her child, so that was a good sign. They’d disappeared into the guest bedroom, down and across the hall, Connie had pointed out earlier when she gave you a very quick tour.
You figured it was probably safe to leave now, ensuring the toddler was tucked in under his dark blue blanket before you’d gotten up and quietly tip-toed out of the door you closed behind you with a soft click.
It didn’t take too many steps to get to where the guest room door was cracked open, with light spilling out into the hallway, and muffled voices could be heard. You entered, finding your boyfriend and the other couple huddled at the foot of the queen-sized bed directly in front of you.
The walls were painted a soothing greige, the greyish-beige color accented by the eggshell white ceiling, trim, and doors for the closet and en suite. An interesting choice was the wrought iron bed frame that looked old and out of place alongside the nice newer black bedside tables and dresser across from it and the stone-colored armless accent chair in the corner—even the lamps were modern, making the dark, possibly rusting, iron stick out like a sore thumb. The large framed photos of ocean waves crashing and rolling decorating the walls made up for it, though, enjoying the room's atmosphere.
Javi’s head turned toward you, and he smiled. “Hey, baby.” He took a couple of steps to grab your hand and pulled you over to the Murphys.
“What were you guys talking about?” you asked.
“Going to the beach tomorrow,” Connie answered with a big smile. “Olivia’s staying home from school, and we were thinking we’d spend the day there.”
That made you grin. “I’d love that!” Javi pulled you into his side.
Your bags were on the ground in front of the dresser.
“I know,” your boyfriend said, kissing your hair.
It had warm fuzziness spreading through your veins at how thoughtful they were.
“Well, glad we’ve got that figured out,” Connie announced, clapping her hands together. “Javi knows, but let me show you where everything is.”
“Okay.”
She took you into the pretty standard bathroom—the combination shower/bathtub against the furthest wall from the door with a floral printed shower curtain on a golden rod; the bathroom vanity on your right as you walked in, painted white with a similar color laminate countertop and sink with red handles to open the drawers and cabinets under the sink, a large mirror hanging on the wall above it, and the toilet in the space between it and bath. She opened the doors under the sink so you could see where the towels and washcloths were kept and led you back into the bedroom to open the closet door so you knew where the extra blankets were.
“—and I’m sorry about the bed.” Connie grimaced.
“Yeah,” Javi interjected. “What happened to the old bed frame?” His hands were on the top of the footboard that looked like a wide, upside-down U made out of a thick pipe, with two smaller ones going across and others connecting those two in the middle. He gave it a little shake, the metal squeaking loudly.
“Steve saw this—” She pointed at it. “—and said it reminded him of a bed he’d slept in at his grandparents, and he just had to buy it. He thought it’d look great in here.”
“Right…” Javi replied, turning his head, and even though all you could see was the back of it, you knew he was glaring at his friend.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Steve asked, crossing his arms. “I have fond memories of spending time with ‘ol peepaw and granny. Like when he’d take me duck hunting.”
You were pretty sure you heard Javi mutter, “Fuckin’ hillbilly.”
Obviously, he was not happy about the sounds the bed was making, and you were a little disappointed about it, too—he hadn’t been joking about Steve hating you fucking in here.
The blonde man was smirking. “What was that?”
“I said it’s great you’ve got fond memories,” Javi sighed, looking forward again with the fingers of one hand pressed to his forehead.
“So,” Connie began, “again, I’m sorry about how squeaky the bed is—”
“I’m not,” Steve interrupted, which earned him a middle finger from your boyfriend, whom the blonde man simply laughed at.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you said, trying to keep things civil.
“Hopefully,” the other woman replied with a nervous smile. “Well, we’re gonna get out of your hair ‘cause I’m sure you wanna freshen up after your flight.”
“If it’s okay with you guys, I might take a cat nap after I shower. Getting up so early and traveling has exhausted me.”
“Oh, that’s absolutely fine, honey.” She checked her watch. “We’ve got a little over an hour before Olivia is home, and the boys will sleep until right before she gets home. Come on, Steve, let’s leave them alone.”
“Yes, dear,” her husband answered, following her as she walked out of the room, Javi moving to close and lock the door after them.
He turned around with a grumpy expression, letting out a loud, long sigh.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think it is,” you told him as you took a couple of steps to the bed and started getting on it—immediately, high-pitched squeaks sounded with any kind of movement you made on the mattress. “Okay, so it’s worse than your bed at your dad’s…”
“He did this on purpose,” he seethed, putting his hands on his slim hips while all his weight went to one side.
You were lying on your side with your head propped up on your arm to look at him standing over by the door.
“Uh, yeah, that’s obvious. It was a lot of effort to put into cock blocking you. He really doesn’t like the idea of you fucking under his roof.”
“I told you he’d hate it—didn’t think he’d do this.” He pouted.
You didn’t like how upset he was, and you had a great idea of how to cheer him up.
Ignoring the ear-splitting sounds as you got up from the bed.
“Keep standing there, looking pretty. I’ll be right back.”
You saw the confusion on his face for only a moment before you were walking around the front of the bed and away from him to go through the bathroom door beside the dresser. In seconds, you were back in the bedroom and tossing a white towel onto the grey chair in the corner on the other side of the en suite door.
“Are you taking a shower?” he asked, watching with curiosity as you moved toward him, his eyes on yours.
“Not right now,” you answered. “I’ve got more important things to do.”
Finally, you were in his space. “Like what?”
“You,” you answered, grabbing him by his open collar and tugging him toward you to crush your mouth against his, swallowing his moan. His arm went around your waist, the other hand on your back, allowing you to lick into his mouth, his tongue eagerly moving with yours in a familiar dance you both knew all too well.
Arousal was burning in your belly, feeling your heartbeat at the apex of your thighs, your need for him seeping into your underwear.
Your fingers started working open the buttons on his shirt.
“We can’t fuck on the bed,” he breathily said between kisses, a big palm grabbing your ass.
“The chair,” you replied, nipping at his bottom lip.
Suddenly, he was pulling back to look you in the eyes, his reddened lips glistening from spit while his shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open.
“The fucking chair,” he rasped, a look on his face like he was only just realizing.
“Yeah.” You nodded. “There’s also the floor, the counter in the bathroom, the shower, and the clear space at the wall right there—” You pointed behind where the door opened. “—if you were in the mood for wall sex, but you’re really upset about the bed—” You rubbed your hands up his bare chest. “—so I thought you’d enjoy getting ridden on the chair.”
His lips turned up in a toothy grin. “I love you so fucking much.” He kissed you quickly.
You matched his expression, looping your arms around his neck. “I love you, too, and I’m not letting a sabotaged bed stop me from getting dicked down. We just have to be�� creative and quiet.”
His eyes darkened, the pink of his tongue peeking out for a second, and when he spoke, his voice had gone deeper and raspier. “You’re not tired,” he said matter-of-factly, his arm pulling you into him so your bodies were flush.
“Nope.” You popped the ‘p.’
“You don’t want to take a nap.”
“I don’t want to take a nap,” you confirmed.
His fingers slid along your cheek until he cradled your face, his gaze stuck to yours. “You want me to fuck you.”
“Very much.”
His head moved until his lips were grazing yours, nuzzling your nose with his. “What got you so worked up you couldn’t wait until we went to bed tonight, Cielito?”
His proximity was fanning the flames of arousal inside you, making your entire body heat, your nipples tighten, and your lips tingle where his barely touched.
Snaking your hand between your bodies, you palmed his hard cock straining against the zipper of his pants. “Probably the same thing that has you hard as a rock—I can’t stop thinking about having babies with you.”
“Fuck,” he groaned, thrusting into your hand. “I can’t fucking wait.”
“To get me pregnant?” you purred, stroking him over his jeans. “Or to fuck me?”
“Both,” he growled, grabbing the hem of your oversized shirt and saying as he roughly pulled it up and off your arms to land carelessly on the floor, “and you fucking know it.” You did, and it made your pussy throb.
“I do.” You helped him shrug off his button-up, your hands going to his belt next. “And I can’t fucking wait either.” The buckle clinked as you effortlessly worked it open and unbuttoned his jeans, hearing the teeth pull apart as you unzipped them.
Warm palms held your face to make you meet the dark pools of his eyes.
“To get pregnant,” his voice had gone lower, seeing his tongue quickly wet his bottom lip. “Or for me to fuck you?”
His pants were undone, and with there being no underwear in your way, you reached in and took him in hand, his shaft feeling like steel wrapped in heated velvet—hot, hard, and silky to the touch. A thrill moved through you at his mouth falling open and eyes closing, his groan going straight to your cunt.
“Both,” you answered.
One word and he became ravenous, desperate, smashing his mouth to yours in a passionate kiss while he went about undressing you as he walked you backward toward the chair—your bra getting tossed somewhere to your left, his lips leaving yours and stopping long enough for him to tug down your leggings and underwear in one fell swoop. He ghosted kisses up your body when he rose again until your mouths were attached once more, continuing the journey to the corner chair, his arm holding you around your middle to help guide you, your hands hanging onto his shoulders.
He spoke between presses of his lips to yours, “You looked so fucking perfect holding the kid…. You’re gonna be an amazing mother to our children…. I need you so fucking bad…. I wanna give you a baby…. Let me fuck a baby into you…. Please.” The last bits made you moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his skin.
The lines were blurred, and you weren’t sure if this was him leaning into the kink you shared or if he was being serious. It was true you couldn’t wait to get pregnant, but you both were well aware the apartment you lived in wasn’t big enough for the addition of a baby and had been actively working with one of the only two architects in town to design the home you planned to build. There was also the fact you wanted to get married first, and the proposal was months away. As much as you both wanted a child, you couldn’t start trying for another year at minimum.
Why were you overthinking this? You would just have a discussion with him after the sex to make sure you were both on the same page.
“God, yes,” you gasped. “I want it.”
The soft fabric of the chair hit the back of your legs, his big hands gripping your asscheeks, murmuring against your lips, “Let me eat your pussy first.”
“Later,” came your muffled reply. “This has to be quick, so we don’t get caught.”
You could feel him frowning before he broke away.
“I don’t fucking care if we get caught.” His eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were turned down.
What he said made you sigh, another thing that had you overthinking. “I know you don’t care,” you kept your tone as gentle as possible, rubbing your hands over his bare back. “But I do. They’ve been your friends for years and already love you. I’m only just meeting them, and I don’t want to give them a bad first impression. Yeah, I’m okay with going against Steve’s wishes and fucking here, only as long as he doesn’t know. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I was an asshole for even thinking of letting us get caught.”
“It’s okay.” Your hands skated along his naked sides. “Now, let’s get back to the sexy—I am so horny.”
His hand fell. “Do you need me to finger you?”
“I think I’m wet enough. One second, though.” You held up a finger before turning around and spreading the towel over the seat. Facing him again, you ordered, “Pants off, Mr. Peña, and sit,” and moved out of his way.
He huffed out an amused breath, pushing down his jeans. “As you wish, Mrs. Peña.” Stepping out of them, a pained groan slipped from his throat as he straightened, taking the seat as you requested.
The armless chair was about as wide as a dining room chair with some cushioning and a channel-stitched back, covered in grey velvet, the wooden legs painted black. Javi sat down, getting comfortable as he sat back and spread his legs.
The sight before you had your mouth going dry.
His lust-filled gaze was looking up at you, taking in the broad shoulders, the expanse of his golden chest down to his soft tummy, where below his belly button, a trail of hair led your eyes to his big hand slowly stroking his hard cock; the tip was red and shining from the steady dribble of precum leaking from it, that he was using to ease the glide of his palm—he was the perfect picture of seduction and you were under his spell, willing to do anything he wanted.
A crooked smile appeared under his mustache.
“You wanna watch me jerk off?” he asked. “Or are you gonna ride me?”
The questions snapped you out of your reverie.
“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, stepping to stand between his widened knees. “You’re just so sexy, and you know, watching you jerk off really gets me going.”
“I know, mi amor (my love),” he chuckled.
His hand left his dick, the long shaft resting against the coarse hair on his belly. Gently, he tugged you by the arm down for a kiss, and you took over, slowly stroking him at the odd angle, making him groan into your mouth when you went lower to fondle his sack, his large palm reaching around to trace the curve of your ass before giving it a squeeze.
On occasion, your husband-to-be had the tendency to get caught up in kissing—Javi loved kissing, so when he pulled you forward by your backside, your arms went around his neck for balance, and you welcomed his tongue when it pressed between your lips. His palms slid up your sides to rest on your ribs as he plundered your mouth, your heart hammering in your chest, feeling slick coating your inner thighs.
The needy ache in your core got worse and worse with every passing minute, finally getting to the point where you had to get him inside you, or there was a chance you were going to combust from the pent-up tension.
You broke away, his lips chasing yours.
“I need you,” you panted.
His eyes met yours, his pupils blown so wide that only a thin sliver of chocolate brown remained.
“Okay,” he said through heavy breaths with a nod. “I’ve got you, baby. Stand up.”
You did as he said, watching as he spit on his fingers and rubbed the saliva onto his cock, doing it a couple of times until his entire length glistened in the bright overhead light.
Once satisfied, his hands were on your upper thighs as he helped you get one leg over his onto the ground beside the chair, then the other to have you standing on either side of him and straddling his hips. Not wasting any more time, you reached between your legs, guiding him to your entrance, and slowly lowered. That first stretch always stole your breath, resting your arms on his freckled shoulders, one of his going around your back to bring you flush to his front, his free hand skating down your back to grip one plump cheek of your ass.
Javi’s eyes had squeezed shut, his breath hitching, feeling how your walls were having to make space for the girth of him and relishing the slight burn from the lack of foreplay. He wasn’t even halfway in, and you rose until only the tip remained, dropping again to take a little more, doing the same thing over and over, taking more of him each time until he was fully seated inside you.
The familiar fullness made you smile, a deep sigh leaving you at how good it felt. Your skin was buzzing just below the surface, your body hot all over, sweat beginning to form on your brow, and you were in heaven.
His face was against your collarbone, his warm breath hitting your skin. “You feel so fucking good,” his voice was muffled, the hand on your ass tightening. “Fuck, te amo (I love you). No sé cuánto tiempo voy a durar (I don’t know how long I'll last). Úsame para hacerte venir (Use me to make yourself come). Úsame, por favor (Use me, please). ¿Puedes hacer eso por mí, Cielito (Can you do that for me, Cielito)? ¿Puedes hacerte sentir bien (Can you make yourself feel good)?”
“Sí (Yes),” you answered. “Sí, Papí (Yes, Papí).”
His chest rumbled under you from his groan, a hand coming down on your ass in a sharp slap that made you clench around him.
��Monta me (Ride me),” he ordered, smacking your backside again. “Monta me duro, mi amor (Ride me hard, my love).”
Grabbing the hair at the back of his head, you pulled on it as you straightened your spine to make him look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded when they blinked open, while yours narrowed in a glare.
“Javier, stop smacking my ass,” you hissed. “We have to be quiet, and you better make sure I don’t get too loud.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.
“Lo siento, cariño (I’m sorry, sweetheart).” His warm hands rubbed along the sides of your spine. “Prometo, estar más callado y evitar que hagas mucho ruido (I promise, I will be quieter and keep you from making too much noise).”
“Thank you,” you replied, pushing his hair back from his face. Leaning in close, you gave him a gentle peck on his lips and the tip of his nose. “If you come before me, it’s fine—it would probably take me with you, anyway.”
“Fuck,” he breathed, feeling him twitch inside you. “With how you’re soaking my dick, I think you’ll get off pretty fucking fast.”
“Probably.” You shrugged and started rolling your hips, watching in delight as his mouth fell open in a moan and his body shuddered.
His arm wrapped around your waist, the other hand holding your jaw, keeping his eyes locked on yours, your own arm over his shoulder, and free hand caressing the side of his face. Both of you were sharing in the pleasure, your bodies fitting together so perfectly like two puzzle pieces, breathing each other in, losing yourselves in this moment.
He wanted you to use him to make yourself feel good, so you did.
Standing made it easy to rise on your legs, sliding up his hard cock to leave only the head and fall back down, thrusting your hips forward on the downstroke to take him to the hilt and make him raggedly groan.
Heat was blooming in your belly, getting hotter with every second you worked yourself on his dick. He pulled you in for a kiss, and you slowed to a grind, the rough curls at the base of his cock rubbing deliciously against the swollen bud of your clit, adding gasoline to the fire inside you.
Like this, he was in so deep you were sure you could probably feel him if you pressed on your stomach, and you knew if he knew that, he’d be a smug bastard about it, which was valid.
You started moving again, the kissing becoming sporadic as you rode him in earnest, your arousal spilling down his shaft to coat his balls. His fingers were digging into the cheeks of your ass, his arms flexing as he gave you momentum and helped you move.
The two of you were trying your best to stay quiet and hold back your sounds, Javi’s face flushed and forehead wet with sweat, both unable to keep some noise from slipping out. The loudest sound was between your legs, hearing the wet suck of your slick gushing around him when his dick pushed into your drenched hole.
Something about fucking in places where there was a chance of getting caught really turned you and him on. Add in, you were told without explicitly being told you weren’t allowed to have sex here, and the higher risk had you rocketing toward your orgasm—Javi was right; you were going to get off quick.
His hands went to your tits, his thick fingers zeroing in on your pebbled nipples, pinching and rolling them before his mouth's hot, wet heat pulled one stiff peak into his mouth.
“God, yes,” you moaned, pleasure shooting directly to your cunt as you bounced on his thick cock.
The muscles in your belly were tightening, adjusting your hips so every time you sunk down, he was pressing into that one spot that dotted your vision with stars, his mouth giving your other breast the same treatment.
This all felt amazing, but there was something you needed…
“Touch me,” you panted, rising and falling in his lap.
His head popped up, glazed over eyes looking at your face.
“Anywhere?” he breathily asked, and the question made you stifle a moan.
“Yes.”
“I’ll get you there.” And you had no doubt.
He started with tweaking your wet nipple, roughly pinching it, his other hand going between your bodies to rub his thumb against your sensitive clit, the sensations feeling like electricity arcing up your spine, making your rhythm stutter for a moment—the heat in your stomach was growing and getting hotter, the closer you were to your climax.
“Hang onto my neck,” he told you.
“What?”
“Lean forward and hold onto my neck.”
You did as he said, pressing into his front and hanging onto him.
His hand on your breast moved to cup your bottom, and he adjusted in the seat, grunting as he sat up, the chair creaking beneath him. Your tempo slowed while he continued circling your bundle of nerves with one hand, his other arm reaching around your thigh to spread two fingers around where his cock was impaling you, feeling how he was stretching you open.
“Your tight little pussy takes my dick so well,” he spoke into your breasts with how you were raised up on your feet, his cock halfway inside you. “I swear I was fucking made for you.”
A moan slipped from your lips unbidden when those same fingers slid through the abundance of your slick on his length and continued up, swiping along the edges of your puckered hole, causing sparks to dance in your center. One thick finger slowly pushed into the tight ring of muscle to the first knuckle, your eyes rolling back in your head and toes curling at the added fullness, biting your lip to keep yourself from making any noise. You worked yourself faster on his dick, tilting your pelvis so he was pressing into all of the right spots, his digit fucking in and out of you at the same pace, it all making you go dizzy with pleasure.
Your inner walls were fluttering.
“Come on, baby,” he rasped, not stopping what he was doing. “Once you come, I’m gonna fill you up.” His head lifted. “Gonna fuck you full of me.” He kissed your clavicle, maintaining your pace. “Stuff you so full of my come, I knock you up.” You whimpered and were almost there. “Isn’t that what you want?” His fingers were still circling your clit and pushing in and out of your asshole, your hips rolling on his cock. “For me to finally get you pregnant?” he asked. “I’ll fuck a baby into you, Cielito, all you have to do is ask.”
And you knew he meant it, the thought entering your mind that you could throw out your birth control today, and odds were he’d have you pregnant by next month—that was what made you crest, sitting all the way down in his lap as you came, your body tensing up tight as euphoria exploded out from your center, spreading through your system. His hand on your front was suddenly over your mouth to smother your loud cry, your body trembling as you slumped into him.
“Good girl,” his words came out thick and rough. “You’re so good to me.”
Your chest was heaving, enjoying the aftershocks and the feel of your cunt spasming around his dick that was still hard inside you.
His hand left your lips to ghost up and down your spine, and he removed the finger from your ass.
“This baby stuff is getting dangerous,” you sounded drunk, slurring your words, your face in the crook of his neck.
“What?”
“Our breeding kinks. You wanna know the thing that fucking got me?”
“Yeah.”
Leaning back to look him in the eyes, you told him, “The thought that if I tossed my birth control today, you’d probably have me pregnant by next month.” His cock jerked hard inside you. “I got off on you being fucking virile.”
His eyes were practically black, licking his lips before he spoke. “We, uh—” He cleared his throat. “—we, uh, could test your theory…?” The hope was there on his face, and it made you feel like utter shit to have to deny him of his dream. This man wanted to be a father so fucking bad, and you more than wanted to make him one. It just wasn’t feasible at this point in time.
You held his face in your hands, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.
“Javi, I love you,” you started. “I want to have all of your babies, but as we both know, the apartment is too small for us and a baby. There’s also the whole I want us to be married thing, too.”
“Pop said we can move in with him while the house is being built, and we’ll be married before a baby is born.” He sounded very sure of himself.
Your eyebrow lifted. “How are you so positive we’ll be married in less than ten months?”
He smiled. “Because you pre-accepted my proposal and told me you didn’t want a big wedding.”
That was something you told him.
Standing in front of a giant room full of people you actually only knew a fraction of and being the center of attention sounded like a literal nightmare scenario. A tiny wedding with only close friends and family in attendance was something more your speed—hell, eloping seemed like a goddamn dream.
It hit you then the possibility of how soon the two of you could be married, and excitement bubbled up inside you, doing the first thing that came to mind and kissing him deeply, cradling his smooth cheeks in your palms. His lips were soft and plush, his tongue delving into your mouth with a moan, it turning into one of those kisses that drove you wild.
You needed to make him feel good. You needed him to feel your love and happiness.
His dick was still throbbing in your pussy, and you started rolling your hips, his hands cupping your backside, keeping you in charge of the rhythm while he assisted in your movements.
The way he liked it when you were on top was for you to go hard and fast, so you lifted and slammed back down in quick succession. It was slippery between your thighs, his cock sliding easily in and out of your wet heat, the kisses turning messy with how you were moving on him.
In this position with both of you sitting up, you could get him to come pretty quickly if you sloppily made out with him and occasionally clenched your cunt around his cock; he’d say that was playing dirty if this was a regular romp, but under current circumstances, they were legal maneuvers like how he toyed with your clit and put a finger in your ass. These were all finishing moves that generally only came into play during quickies, though, when he was in the mood to make you come multiple times, he was liberal in their usage—and every time you were about to utilize a move, the fatality screen from Mortal Kombat came to mind, hearing in your brain the announcer say, “Finish Him.”
His eyebrows were knitted together, and his eyes were closed, the effort he was putting into being quiet causing pitiful whines to escape his throat. He was tense beneath you, every muscle in his body pulled taut like a bowstring close to snapping, and you knew he was almost there, clenching up around him on your downstrokes.
“‘M close,” he murmured, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your behind and spreading your cheeks while helping you rise and fall.
“Yeah?” you replied through heavy breaths. “I want you to come for me, Javi.” Your kiss landed on the side of his mouth. “I love you.” This kiss made it onto his lips. “I want to marry you, have your children, and spend the rest of my life with you.”
He pressed his face into your chest, kissing what he could while you moved up and down—over the tops of your breasts, along your collarbones, up the line of your throat; all the while, he was saying against your skin, “Te amo (I love you). Me voy a casar contigo (I’m going to marry you). Te voy a dar todos los hijos que quieras (I will give you as many children as you want). Voy a pasar el resto de mi vida contigo (I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you). Fuck, te sientes tan bien (you feel so good). Eres perfecta (You’re perfect). No puedo esperar a verte embarazada (I can’t wait to see you pregnant).”
“Embarazada con tu bebé (Pregnant with your baby),” you panted.
A strangled noise came from him, shoving his face in your neck to mute it as he pulled you down to completely bury himself inside you. His teeth sunk into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, and you hissed at the pleasurable pain; his dick thickened, feeling it jerk, and the familiar wet pulse of spurts and spurts of his come gushing deep in your depths to fill you.
You ran your fingers through his sweat-damp hair, his heaving breaths hot against your skin as he soothed over the bite with kisses, your own chest rising and falling rapidly, his arms hugging you close to him.
The solutions he had so you could have a baby were rolling around in your head, and you wondered if it really would be that easy.
Chucho would be over the goddamn moon if you guys temporarily moved in with him, and then a baby on top of that? His first nieto (grandchild)? The thing he constantly brought up? Chucho wanted to be a grandfather just as bad as Javi wanted to be a dad, and you knew he’d do anything for you both.
Why were nerves fluttering around in your belly? You should be ecstatic, but there was a voice in your brain that sounded a lot like your mother pointing out you haven’t even been together a year. For all intents and purposes, you were still in the honeymoon stage of your relationship, and that’d have to end at some point. Would you both still feel the same after a year has passed? Two? Five? Ten? Would he still be as attracted to you after your body changed from pregnancy?
These questions were stressing you out.
“Javi?”
He hummed in reply.
“You know how you feel about me right now. Do you think you’ll still feel that way in a year?”
His head came up with his eyebrows pulled together.
“Yeah?” he answered.
“What about in two years?”
He was giving you a look like the answer was obvious.
“Cielito, I’m gonna love you like this for the rest of my fucking life.”
Your voice was small, “How can you be sure?”
His hands had started rubbing comforting circles on your hips, looking at you with a tender gaze.
“I’m my father’s kid,” he said, “and when we find the person meant for us, that’s it; it’s game over. We dedicate our lives to them, and we love them so fucking deeply we feel it in our souls—this is going to sound stupid, but Pop says we’re penguins.”
“Penguins?”
“Yeah, he watched some nature documentary and found out they mate for life—we’re penguins.”
It made you grin. “That is the absolute cutest shit I have ever heard.”
He smiled. “I knew you’d like it. Does that make you feel better?”
“Yes,” you answered truthfully. “We’re mated for life.”
“Yeah, we are, and I know it’s not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. We’ll have our ups and downs like all couples do, but there’s no one else I’d rather go through the good and bad with.” The look on his face changed to something unsure. “Do you, uh, think your feelings will change?”
“I don’t think so. My love for you is so embedded inside me that it sometimes feels like you’ve always been with me, and I just didn’t know. So, I think I’m a penguin, too.”
He chuckled, leaning in to sweetly kiss you. When his lips left yours, he nuzzled your face.
“Anything else you need reassurance about?” he gently asked with his nose sliding along yours.
“Um, the other thing was if you’d still be attracted to my body post-pregnancy…”
A thing you loved about Javi was how you could basically tell what he was thinking from the expression on his face, and right this second, as he stared at you, he was trying to work out how to politely tell you it was stupid to think he’d find you unattractive after having his baby.
“Are you talking about the body that grew our baby and kept them safe for nine months?” he asked, and yeah, you realized now how dumb it was to think something so absurd. “Yeah, I’m still gonna be attracted to you,” he continued, “the woman I love, who made me a father. I’m not gonna care about stretch marks or if you put on weight or any of the other shit that’ll change. You did something fucking incredible, and honestly, it makes me hard thinking about you being pregnant, so if there are things to remind me of that, I’m probably gonna be all over you constantly. Feel better?”
That eased your worries.
“Much.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Thank you. Now, let’s go take a shower.” You started to move, and he stopped you.
Hope was swirling in his eyes. “Is this a yes to a baby?”
“This is a maybe on the baby, and we will need to have a long discussion with your father.”
The smile he gave you was so blinding, you were sure it outshined the sun, a joyous laugh coming from him as he hugged you into his arms and squeezed you tight.
“I’m so fucking happy.” The emotion was heavy in his voice. “Thank you so much.” He sniffled in your ear.
Your hands slid over his back. “Don’t thank me yet. It’s not set in stone.”
He pulled back, his eyes rimmed red, tears falling down his cheeks.
“No,” he replied. “Thank you for loving me and being with me and wanting to have kids with me. I know it’s not a sure thing, but it’s the fact there’s a chance.” His voice cracked when he said the last word, his shoulders shaking.
“Oh, babe.” You wrapped your arms around him and held him close to your body.
This reaction for a maybe made you want to throw all caution to the wind and say fuck it, and just start trying, the rational part of your brain telling you to cool your jets. It was an angel and demon on your shoulders situation, with you leaning toward the baby, and it wasn’t going to help that the two of you would be around children for the next few days.
The way Javi interacted with Stevie? Almost killed you. He was so sweet, and the child clearly loved him so much it had your ovaries aching. Three days, you were going to have to watch him with the Murphy kids, and you weren’t sure if you were going to survive or keep from throwing your birth control in the trash.
You had to be strong.
Javier knew this trip would be important since he was bringing his wif-girlfriend to meet his best friend’s family. He just didn’t expect also to get the news they might be able to start trying for a baby sooner than they had planned.
Don’t get him wrong, he was excited about having their house built and getting to have a say in the design, but they were looking at twelve to fourteen months before it’d be ready to move into, and he did not want to wait that long to start their family—he was feeling… impatient. He’d already wasted enough of his life, and with him turning fucking forty on Sunday, he’d been plagued with thoughts of how many years he had left above ground.
A couple of weeks ago, his therapist told him he was having a mid-life crisis, which he scoffed at because he sure as hell wasn’t buying some expensive sports car or chasing women half his age—he outright owned his dependable truck and was more than happy in his amazing and healthy relationship with a woman slightly younger than him. Then the therapist went for his jugular over why he’d begun wrestling with feelings of his mortality and how it started with him planning their trip to Miami and thinking about the Murphys and Cielito. What it boiled down to was he regretted the time he lost to his job and now felt unfulfilled that, at his age, he didn’t have a family of his own like Steve.
The guy was right, and it annoyed him.
It gave him a swift kick in the ass to figure out some things, though.
Like how he went out to his dad’s last Tuesday after work to have a beer with him and ask if he was serious about them living with him if they were ever expecting and their home was still under construction—he said yes, and told Javier when Cielito eventually got pregnant he was planning to turn the guest bedroom into a nursery anyway.
There was also the ring box he rolled up in a pair of socks tucked away at the bottom of the duffle bag he brought.
He was ready to make some big changes, and by the end of this trip, he hoped more than anything he’d have a fiancée.
After he got all of his happy tears out, they kissed and got off of the chair to take a shower, stopping on the way for her to grab her toiletry bag from her luggage.
They washed each other and stole kisses, his hands wandering over her soapy skin with her giggles echoing in the stall. It didn’t take them very long to finish, going through their after-shower routines to get dry and do their hair. They changed into clean clothes, and he put on a lavender-colored button-up and some jeans, his eyes glued to her ass in the high-waisted denim shorts she was wearing as she bent over to put on her socks. He found himself closing the distance in two long strides to grab her hips, carefully bumping and rubbing the front of his pants against her backside.
“Are you seriously humping me while I put on my socks?”
He frowned. “I’m not humping you. You’d know if I was humping you.”
“Fine. Are you seriously grinding on me while I put on my socks?”
“Maybe…”
She finished what she was doing, her socked feet planted on the floor, standing back up and turning in his arms.
There was an exasperated look on her face as she smiled. “You’re so fucking ridiculous.” Her arms went around his neck.
“They’re nice shorts,” he replied, making her laugh when he grabbed handfuls of her ass.
“Well, you’ll be excited to know I only brought shorts and leggings.”
He smirked. “I’m very excited about that.”
“Good. Have we been in here long enough that they’ll believe we showered and napped?”
Checking his watch, he answered, “We’ve been in here about an hour, so I think we’re in the clear.”
The look on her face shifted to something nervous.
“Do you think we made too much noise?”
For her comfort, he slid his hands up and down her sides.
He’d never lie to her, so he told her the truth. “They’re on the opposite side of the house, and between them and us is their master bathroom that’s on the other side of that wall—” He pointed at the wall next to the door to the guest room’s en suite. “—then their walk-in closet, their big fucking bedroom, and finally you’d end up in the kitchen. Unless they used their bathroom or came down the hall to check on the boys, which I doubt because they have the baby monitors, I don’t think they heard anything.”
“You’re sure?”
The smile on his face was reassuring. “Yes. I’m not lying, Cielito.”
She let out a breath, and her body seemed to relax. “Okay, fingers crossed they didn’t hear anything. Let’s head out there.”
“Bésame antes de irnos, por favor (Kiss me before we go, please),” he said, puckering his lips.
“So polite.” She leaned in to kiss him.
When they separated, he took her hand, leading her out to find his friends.
They found Steve in the actual living room they used at the back of the house, having to walk through the kitchen and dining room to get to it. There was a massive brown leather sofa in the middle of the room, Steve’s recliner next to it, a coffee table, and a decent-sized television in their entertainment center against the wall in front of the couch that had an abundance of VHS movies aimed towards children, and it looked like Connie had cleaned up after the boys, all of their toys put away in their toy box or back in their designated spots in the part of space designated for the kids.
Walking in, they were behind the sofa, seeing Steve was watching ESPN and the highlights of a basketball game from the previous night between the Chicago Bulls and Orlando Magic, a beer held in his hand.
His head turned toward them, his lips turning up in a shit-eating grin. “How’d y'all sleep on the bed?”
Javier’s eyes narrowed. “Like babies.”
Cielito moved to stand beside him in his friend’s view.
Steve sputtered into laughter, and Javier frowned at the sudden outburst. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” the other man finally said. “Matching shirts?” He looked over at his future wife and her V-neck that was the same lavender color as his, he matched out of habit—all the shirts he brought had counterparts to what she had in her luggage. It was their thing. His friend wiped at his eyes. “Who are you, and what have you done with my asshole of a best friend?”
“I don’t see what the big deal is about us matching,” he replied, crossing his arms. “So what if we like to look good together? Where’s Connie?”
“Doing laundry.” He nodded toward the door that led to the laundry room, and as if she were summoned, it opened, and she came in holding a large basket full of clothes against her hip with one arm.
“Oh, great!” she exclaimed. “You’re up!” She paused after shutting the door. “Be honest with me, how bad is the bed? If you can’t sleep on it, I’ll pull out the air mattress.”
Just the thought of sleeping on an air mattress made Javier’s body ache.
“It’s pretty squeaky,” Cielito answered. “But we’ll survive. It’s seriously okay.” She waved away the concern.
“If you’re sure.”
Sounds started coming from the baby monitors on the coffee table, Stevie and Nate both in their separate bedrooms calling for their mom.
“Oh,” Connie said. “Looks like the boys are up. I’ll go put the laundry in our bedroom and get them.”
“Don’t worry about it, Connie,” Javier told her. “I’ll get them.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s not a problem.” His head turned to the woman next to him. “Do you want to come with me or stay out here?”
She smiled at him. “I’m sure you can use an extra set of hands—I’ll come with.”
He nodded with a matching look, taking her hand once more and guiding her back to the hallway where the bedrooms were located.
First, they stopped in Nate’s room, finding the tiny boy standing at the railing of his crib, crying for his mom.
“Oh, mi precioso (my precious),” Javier cooed, quickly making his way over and scooping the child up. He held him on his hip, bouncing a little while rubbing his back. “You’re okay, buddy. Shhh, you’re okay. We’ll go see your mom in just a minute.” Turning to look at Cielito, she had a soft expression on her face. “Baby?” She was just staring, and it made him grin. “Mi amor (My love)?”
She visibly jolted. “Sorry. Yes. Did you say something?”
“Was trying to get your attention. I need to change his diaper. Do you wanna go get Stevie?”
“I can get Stevie, yes,” she answered, nodding. “Be right back.” Immediately, she turned and left the room.
Nate had calmed down and wasn’t crying anymore, murmuring mom over and over again with his hand in his mouth.
“That was your tía (aunt),” he informed the little one as he walked him over to the changing table. “I know you can keep a secret,” he whispered, laying the child on the cushioned top. “I’m gonna propose to her tomorrow.” Grabbing a clean diaper and the wipes from the shelf underneath, he went about changing the toddler. “I figured out how I’m gonna do it last weekend,” he continued talking, his hands working. “So, she’s gonna be your tía, and hopefully soon you’ll have some primos (cousins).” He tossed the dirty diaper into the lidded bin he opened with the foot pedal, the kid now in a clean one as Javier buttoned back up his turquoise onesie with a sleeping long-eared, white, spotted dog on it.
“Who’s that?” Came his soon-to-be fiancée’s voice from the doorway. He turned his head to see her holding the other boy in her arm while she pointed at him with a smile.
“Tío!” Stevie shouted, grinning. “Tío and Nate!”
Javier picked up the younger of the two children and smiled.
“That’s right, buddy,” he said, turning toward them. “Who’s holding you?”
The three-year-old pressed his finger against Cielito’s chest. “Tía!”
“Good job!” He was close to them now, affectionately ruffling the kid’s dirty blonde hair with his hand and making him laugh. “You’re so smart.”
Stevie held out his arms to Javier, and he quickly took him in his free arm, both boys sitting comfortably on each of his hips.
“Oh, no,” his future wife breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.
Concern was etched on his brow. “What?”
“My ovaries feel like they’re gonna explode.”
“Is that a bad thing…?” He wasn’t sure.
“For my self-control? Yes. For you getting that thing you want really bad? No.”
“What thing do I want…?”
Her answer was to point at Nate, and his heartbeat stuttered, sucking in a breath.
This meant she really was contemplating them not waiting to have a baby, and it made hope swell in his chest. He didn’t want to be an asshole and deliberately wear down her resolve. Still, he also couldn’t control how he usually interacted with the Murphy kids, which apparently was getting to her—it made him happy that she was so affected by him being great with the children. He was beginning to think this trip was going to show her that he’d be a decent father.
He didn’t have a chance to respond, hearing from down the hall in the living room, Olivia shouting, “Is he here?!”
She must’ve just gotten home from school.
“Sissy’s home!” Stevie exclaimed.
“It sounds like she is,” Javier replied. “Let’s go see her.” He looked at Cielito. “Ready to meet the oldest?”
“Yep.”
Running footsteps could be heard as they made their way out of the room, his wif-girlfriend behind him on their journey toward the sound of voices. The young girl seemed to have run to where her father was in the living room because she came speeding back through the dining room that connected it to the front sitting area and finally found them.
“Tío!” Olivia had a big grin, missing a couple of baby teeth in the front, throwing her arms around his middle when she reached him, hugging him hard.
“Hola, mi sobrina (Hi, my niece). Lo siento, no tengo brazos para abrazarte en este momento (I’m sorry, I don’t have arms to hug you right now).”
Steve and Connie felt that Olivia should learn Spanish and had enrolled her in after-school classes for it since she first started going to school. Her dad’s Spanish was shit, and her mom’s wasn’t much better, so any time she needed help with homework she’d call Javier.
“Está bien (It’s okay). Estoy feliz que estás aquí (I’m happy you’re here).”
Connie was walking up, having come from the kitchen. Nate immediately reached toward her and chanted Mom.
“I’m here, baby,” she said, taking him from Javier and returning to where she’d been.
With a hand free, he patted Olivia’s back.
“Hi, Sissy!” Stevie greeted.
“Hi, Stevie,” she replied.
“¿Cómo te fue en la escuela (How was school)?” Javier asked the nine-year-old.
She let go of him to look up and meet his eyes.
“Bien (Good). Aprendí sobre (I learned about), ¿cómo se dice dinosaurs (how do you say dinosaurs)?”
“Los dinosaurios. ¿Qué te enseñaban sobre los dinosaurios (What did they teach you about dinosaurs)?”
“Oh, my teacher wasn’t teaching us about dinosaurs today,” she said, switching to English. “I don’t know what she was teaching.” The girl shrugged. “I was too busy reading this book I got in the library about dinosaurs.”
He smiled.
“Which dinosaur is your favorite?”
“Triceratops! They could take on T-Rexes. I want to look for dinosaur fossils when I’m older!”
“You want to be a paleontologist?”
She looked confused. “What’s a pale—a palien-tol-gist?”
“Paleontologist,” he said slower. “They’re scientists who study fossils.”
“Yes, I want to do that!” She nodded enthusiastically.
“Sissy!” Stevie loudly called, bouncing in Javier’s hold. “Sissy!”
“Yes, Stevie?”
“Tía’s gonna make cookies with me!”
Confusion was on her face again. “Tía?”
It made him realize he hadn’t introduced the young girl to his other half.
“Yes, your tía,” Javier told her and moved the toddler from one arm to the other so he could wrap the free one around Cielito’s waist. “Olivia, I want you to meet the woman I’ve told you about who I’m gonna marry.” He introduced her to Cielito.
“Oh! Cielito!” She looked over at the older woman. “Hi!” She waved.
Cielito was smiling. “Hi,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I wanna make cookies! What kind?”
“Chocolate chip.”
“My favorite!”
“Mine, too.”
“Cookies!” Stevie shouted, making Javier snort and his future wife giggle.
“Better head to the kitchen,” Javier said.
“Yeah,” Cielito responded. “Let’s all go make cookies. You too, Olivia.”
“Yes!” The girl did little jumps of excitement.
In the kitchen, they found the ingredients for the cookies waiting for them on the counter, Connie having already gotten them out along with measuring cups and spoons, a large bowl, and an electric hand mixer. Hands were washed, including Stevie’s, who had a little stool to stand on so he could help as well as a toddler could.
Cielito entranced the children as she walked them through step by step how to make the cookie dough, and Javier left the room for only a minute to run to the bedroom and grab his camera.
She had Stevie in front of her on the stool, holding the toddler’s little hand to help him scoop the flour and sugar into the bowl, and Olivia next to her. She showed the young girl how to crack the eggs, and when they got to adding the chocolate chips, they all took handfuls to snack on—and through it all, Javier took pictures, getting candids of them laughing and others where he asked them to look and smile at him, Stevie always grinning big and saying cheese.
Baking with a three-year-old was chaotic with how he wanted to touch and get into everything, but Cielito handled it like a champ and had the patience of a saint.
It all had him thinking about their future, easily picturing her doing this same thing with their own kids. It reminded him of how some of his favorite memories growing up were cooking with his mom, and it made his eyes burn that his children would get to have similar experiences.
What he has known, and was being proven right, was he’s found his perfect match and the person he was supposed to spend his life with.
From the moment he met her, there was something about her, some kind of pull—he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame, and as he got to know her, she engulfed him, and he fell hard. After their first date, on his drive home, he experienced something new: he imagined what his future would look like with her in it. A lifetime played out in his mind of them dating, getting engaged, married, buying a house, getting a dog, and he’d never felt so much hope before.
He didn’t think he had a chance in hell to make it a reality. He was positive he’d fuck it up before the third date.
By some miracle, he didn’t.
When he thought about those first few dates, the second was when he fell in love with her—that was when he knew she was it. By the third date, he knew he was going to marry her.
A thing about Javier was when he put his mind to something, he got it done, and he didn’t like to waste time—this evidently also included relationships. He fucked up when he said he’d propose on their anniversary because there was no way he was going to be able to wait that long—and he cracked quicker than an egg hitting a wall.
How could he not when she was so perfect?
Life was dull before her, empty; he always felt like something was missing. She was what was missing, filling that space inside him, turning everything vibrant and lively. There were an infinite number of ways their lives could’ve played out, and he knew in every single one the path he chose would always lead him back to her—they were meant to find each other.
His love for her burned brighter than the brightest star in the night sky, and she was a part of him now—he could feel her burrowed deep down in his bones to the point there was no him without her any longer. She was his first and the only love of his life; there was no one before, and there wouldn’t be anyone after because she was the one for him.
And when he held her, he held the entire world in his arms.
She was his world.
She was everything.
And in less than twenty-four hours, she would hopefully say yes when he asked a particular question while holding a ring.
Until then, he’d try to stay calm while watching her interact with his friend’s kids and ignore how his chest was filled with so much happiness he thought it might burst. These glimpses of what she’ll be like as a mother were driving him crazy, and it was taking everything in him not to haul her back to the bedroom and show her how much he loved it—they couldn’t, anyway, with the kids wanting to spend time with them and the damn bed. Fucking Steve.
He didn’t want to rile himself up, so he’d do his best to avoid thinking about her being the mother of his children or how earlier she said maybe to a baby.
Who was he kidding? It was all he could think about, and he was dying to get her alone.
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gorgeous | lmh ( m )
there is a part 2!
you don’t know what in the football uniform mark is wearing is so attractive. maybe it’s how broad is shoulders always look in that jersey. maybe it’s how nicely accentuated his ass is when he’s running. or, maybe, just maybe, it’s how painfully conspicuous the outline of his cock is through those pants.
or, you know. all of the above.
pairing: mark x reader
rating: R
genre: college / football au, romance, humor, smut
warnings: kind of feels like pwp with just a bit of background pining I guess, semi-public (?) sex, oral sex, just good ol’ fashioned smut perhaps with minimal dirty talk. nothing depraved (yet). please be sure that you are 18+ to read!
word count: 12.4k
author’s notes: i literally have nothing to say like . i just wanted to post something that would gain me access into the 18+ section of the nctzen library i guess :^) this is once again an edited fic, but it is pretty unbeta’d, so i’d love for anyone to point out any mistakes they see! since this has explicit content, please do not read this unless you are of age! honesty is the best policy, everyone. :^) enjoy !
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
You know you’re done for the moment the sky opens up and starts raining.
You can’t even get off the field and run from the rain because it’s all a part of the whole cheerleading gig; if the playing team’s on the field, then you have to be, too.
Sometimes, you think that there are more drawbacks to being in this position. For one, it’s completely risk-heavy; you can’t remember a game where someone didn’t at least obtain a sprain or slip on the mud in front of five hundred people while trying to still look like everything’s fine. Pile on other issues, like having to cut back hours of free time in a week to practice, having to constantly fit and refit uniforms that you also have to shell out your own money for (because what else is the university’s budget for if not to pay for a yet another science lab?), and dealing with slightly catty teammates because on no particular day of the month is the entire team period-free, and you almost have a deal ready to be broken.
Just almost, though.
Possibly the only perk that beats all those downsides is the fact that you have free access to the football team and all their practices and games. Most days, you think it’s actually worth it to risk breaking your neck coming down from a human pyramid (or, worse, being the base of one, which requires the kind of upper body strength you don’t think you have a lot of in you) if you get to at least see eleven cute guys jogging around the perimeter of the field they share with your team for practice.
Oh, and, yeah, even if you had to pay for the cheerleading uniforms, they were kind of cute, in all honesty.
You look up as the first droplets fall on your head, and you can see the collective grimace that sweeps over the cheerleading team; one girl even stamps her feet and yells something about her not wearing waterproof mascara just as the rain mixes with the crowd’s cheers when it starts to intensify. It quickly forms a thick curtain, and you lift a hand up to your forehead to shield your eyes as you scan the field in front of you. Everything is just a blur of white and blue sometimes interrupted by the droplets that hang off your eyelashes, but you keep looking anyway. It shouldn’t be that hard to spot him because he’s fairly tall in his own right, you think, except it’s hard because so is everyone else — perhaps even more so — and he’s probably being eclipsed by all these jacked up guys from the visiting team.
You get called out of your search temporarily when the cheerleading captain plucks on your sleeve and tells you you’re all going to do one more routine; in that time, all you can do is think about not slipping on the mud that’s slowly deepening under your feet. Even your fucking pom-poms are a saggy mess.
The only time you manage to see him is when the referee’s whistle blows for a time out, and the teams troop back, somewhat sluggishly, to their benches. He always walks at the back of the line, like he’s careful to not get crushed between his teammates, even though they always tell him to walk with them. He glances up at the scoreboard; there’s two minutes of play left, and your home team is ahead by a mile, so he could sit pretty for the rest of the game and they’d probably still win.
In all honesty, no one had ever thought Mark would make the football team. Not even Donghyuck, his freshman roommate, who, in his own weird way, idolizes Mark (at times, to a fault). Not even you, his best friend, who had criticized him for never being active in any kind of extracurricular activity ever since you had met in your first year of high school. And especially not Mark himself, who had, in an attempt to get you off his back about being a hermit, tried out for college football just so that he could prove that he would never make it and would never fit in a team, anyway.
Except for some strange reason, he had. Inexplicably, he had even placed on the actual starting team instead of the reserve, like you and Donghyuck had initially guessed when he’d come home, slightly starstruck, with a jersey in his hand. You thought it was a joke — even though Mark rarely makes any of those in the first place — until he announced that he’d placed as a free safety and would be starting practice that coming Thursday.
You’d thought it was a joke even when Thursday came along, convinced he was just trying to one up you and get you to admit maybe it’s not a big deal if he’s essentially disconnected from the rest of society, until you actually saw him come out of the locker rooms and start doing laps with the rest of the team. At that point, something just… snapped.
Sure, Mark has always been attractive to you, in that kind of boy next door with the nice skin and the naturally casual laid-backness so many people try so hard to achieve, and a part of you has always been pretty aware of how appealing he was. You’d been pretty good at repressing it, though; only Donghyuck had slowly cottoned on over time, mostly because he refused to make friends with classmates he would only spend one semester with, which led him to tagging along on yours and Mark’s trips to the library (which he hates) as well as your trips to unlimited refill barbecue restaurants (which he loves).
(Sometimes he hangs out with some other freshman kid named Renjun, whom neither you nor Mark have ever seen, but Mark swears he exists because he sometimes finds that his bed seems to have been slept in on days that Donghyuck is much more vocal about how cool he thinks Mark is.)
“Why don’t you just tell Mark hyung that you like him?” Donghyuck had once asked when you’d both been sitting on the frontmost bleacher, waiting for Mark to finish a particularly long and seemingly grueling weekend practice. “You know it’s not like he’s going to think any less of you. Also, it would be better if you just ended up honest with him before he catches your dried up drool on your chin.”
You’d flicked him on the forehead, partly because he was sticking his nose into where it didn’t belong, but mostly because he was suggesting the one thing that would overturn the delicate internal balance you’d been carefully building up since the first day you’d met Mark.
Not that you’d never thought of it. You’d just been really, really good at talking yourself out of it, making excuses about how it’d probably just been your hormones telling you that you could stand to entertain a boyfriend or even a friend with benefits every once in a while. It had never really been about Mark, specifically.
Until now.
These days, you’re not so great at keeping yourself calm and collected at the thought of him. It’s the curse of being able to see him run across a field almost daily, his asscheeks tightening visibly when he lunges and the veins on his forearms bulging when he uses all his upper body strength to toss the ball. You’re thankful that cheerleading practice almost always winds up earlier than football practice because you can use the little gap between when you have to leave the field and when you have to see him again to do your homework together to take a cold shower or, when it’s really bad and your roommate isn’t around, to masturbate to the thought of him bending you over and pounding so deeply into you that you’re practically speaking in tongues.
And it’s never any one else’s face that you imagine looking up at during a blowjob. It’s always his.
You squint across the space between you and him, and even through the rain, your vision tunnels towards him. His shirt is soaked completely now, and it clings to his skin; you can see the deep curve of his spine and the definition of his right bicep even from here — proof that this football thing is really starting to shape his body in a way that is both frustrating and totally attractive to you. Behind the steady noise of the rain, you can’t help but give a slight whimper.
You’re not sure if it’s because you catch his eye or just because he feels like someone’s watching him, but he suddenly looks up at you, mirroring your expression and squinting through the rain. When he realizes he’s looking at you, the corners of his lips turn up into a small but genuine smile, and your heart skids dangerously, breaking its already fast rhythm. You respond with a bigger, goofier grin before you can stop yourself, and you see the whites of his teeth peek out as he laughs at your expression.
Damn you, Mark Lee. You gnash your teeth together as you turn away, but you’re really only chastising yourself. You hate that this is confusing. You hate that this situation is actually simple, but you’re too hesitant to do anything about it, so it becomes confusing. You hate that ever since Donghyuck had brought it up, you’ve been secretly planning out the ways you could just seduce him, and you also hate the slightly sick feeling that comes after those fantasies when you remind yourself that you’re being a hopeless pervert. You hate that the rain his making his pants just the slightest bit translucent, so you can see the outline of his cock just pushing against the fabric, and you almost want to scream because you really, really hate how much you wish he were fucking you with it at that exact moment.
Mostly, you hate that your body seems to be going through its whole mid-adolescent years sexual arousal phase all over again.
The referee’s whistle sounds through the air, and the team troops back onto the field and gets into position. Someone from the squad calls your name, and you walk stiffly over to join the routine again, trying to make excuses about how you’re wet from the rain and not from thinking too much about your best friend.
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
You’re drenched by the time the game comes to a close, the home team scoring an impressive 6-1, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about the cheering and hugging that’s occurring all around you. You had just seen Mark bend over to pick up a bottle of water and scoped two whole eyefuls of his substantial ass stretching the fabric of his pants, so, yeah, you kind of have to do something about it.
It isn’t as easy as it seems in your head, though. For one, he’s being blocked by people much, much larger than you, and they’re traveling in groups — the referee and the vice principal, three of his teammates carrying the team’s water cooler over to throw onto the coach (boys, seriously), and the two teams’ mascots walking side by side, their costumes absorbing all the rainfall. There’s also the problem of people holding you back, like Park Sooyoung, one of the juniors on the squad, hooking her finger into the back of your shirt and dragging you backwards to shout very loudly into your ear that most of the girls were going to go to a McDonald’s with some of the players right now. You try to shake her off with weak excuses, but her grip is unnaturally strong.
“There still might be room in Jeno’s car, if you want to join,” she yells over the rain that’s practically torrential at this stage.
“No thanks,” you shout back, although you have the decency to at least keep your mouth a few inches away from her ear canal. “Stuff to do. Gotta shower, and all. And… Homework,” you add lamely when she gives you a disbelieving look.
“You can do it when we get back! Jeno’s car has a heater anyway. Aren’t you hungry?”
Hungry? No. Thirsty? Yes. But not in the physiologically necessary sense.
You manage to get her to cotton on that you have no intention of tagging along after a couple more refusals, making sure she zips off across the field with the rest of the squad before turning your attention back to Mark.
Who is no longer where he had been five minutes ago.
The weighty feeling of regret at a missed opportunity settles in your stomach as you spot him across the field now, nothing but a tiny white and blue dot disappearing into the boys’ locker room. The feeling is only alleviated slightly by you telling yourself that you didn’t even really have a plan anyway, so it was better that he’d disappeared before you got the chance to embarrass yourself.
The rain stops overhead suddenly; you look up to see a familiar baby blue umbrella covering you, and you let out a small sigh of relief.
“I thought you went back to the dorms already.”
“I almost did, but I saw you standing like a dumbass out here,” Donghyuck laughs. “You could just ask someone to sneeze on you if you really want to catch a cold.”
“What I really want is a hot shower and a snack,” you respond.
“I saw your teammates leave with Lee Jeno like three minutes ago. Why didn’t you go with them? I thought people liked you on that team,” he teases. You whack him in the face with a ruined, soggy pom-pom, but you don’t dignify his question with an answer. He spits out a piece of the paper that had stuck to his tongue on impact. "Oh, I see. Distracted by external elements? More specifically, external elements on Mark hyung’s body?“
"There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t wish you had a mute button.”
“My mom couldn’t afford the down payment for it,” he shrugs. “You know, I could always mention it to him if you’re too chicken —”
“I will never forgive you if you do that,” you cut him off. “Never. I will strangle you before I strangle myself if you tell him.”
“So you tell him,” Donghyuck snaps. “All you ever do is moon over him now. Just get laid so that we can go back to eating breakfast for dinner every Thursday instead of you never showing up or backing out at the last minute because you’re too worried seeing him eat pancakes will trigger hyperrealistic fantasies of him eating you out.”
“I don’t think that way!” You yell, but you’re glad that he’s not really looking at you, so he doesn’t see the flush that spreads like wildfire across your face.
“Fine; I won’t tell. But you have to soon. I can’t stand being in the middle of all this awkward atmosphere you’re suddenly creating. Plus, he keeps asking me if I’ve talked to you recently.” He shoots you a meaningful look that you ignore. “It’s not like he’s stupid. He thinks you’re avoiding him because you suddenly hate him, or something.”
“I’m trying to fix that,” you frown.
“Fix it faster,” he nags, and you smack the pom-pom into his face again. It’s satisfying to see how little bits of wet paper stick to his nose.
Donghyuck walks you to the locker rooms, overestimating the capacity of his umbrella by saying he’ll wait for you and Mark to come out so you can all head back to the dorms together. You try not to read too into the fact that he’s essentially forcing you to live through another fifteen minutes of wading through one-sided sexual tension and troop yourself into the locker room while he strolls off to the nearest waiting shed. It’s odd that you can’t hear any water running, and no one seems to even be inside. You figure everyone’s out making a mess out of the nearest McDonald’s until you turn on one of the showers and realize that there’s no hot water in the stall you’re in. And in the next one. And in the next one. Or the one after that.
You groan in frustration, now acutely aware of how sticky and heavy your uniform feels against your skin. You could always just shower at the dorm, but that just means staying and walking around in this state longer, which doesn’t feel like a very comfortable option. You could also just brave the cold, but in this weather, it doesn’t sound like a healthy idea.
Of course, there is one other way.
You weigh out your options briefly, but it’s not like there’s any better and more immediate choice. You gather your spare clothes and quickly exit the girls’ locker room, your hand over your mouth as though your breathing is going to be too loud and give you away.
The distance between the girls’ locker room and the boys’ locker room is less than ten steps, but because you’re trying to be unbelievably careful, the tiptoe over to its entrance feels like a mile-long and extremely stressful endeavor. You bump into one of the members, Jung Jaehyun, right as you’re about to enter, but he at least doesn’t seem to notice how guilty you’re looking, or the fact that you have a towel and a shampoo bottle in your arms.
“Hey, _______________,” he greets you, shaking the remaining water out of his hair. “I thought you would have gone with Jeno and Doyoung. Most of the cheerleaders did.”
“I wanted to take a shower first,” you say lamely. You don’t add the in your locker room part.
“Same.” There’s steam forming a thin cloud around him as he stands in the doorway, so you’re at least assured your rule-breaking isn’t going to go to waste. “If you’re going to catch up, maybe you can invite Mark to come along with you. I asked him, but he said he was just going to go home and rest. He’s like a grandpa.”
“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “He — is Mark in there? Still?”
“Yeah, he was talking to coach about something, so he’s still in there getting ready. Anyway, at least try to get him to tag along; it’s as much his victory as it is the rest of the team’s. Text me if you guys are both coming to McDonald’s later. I’ll save you seats.”
He gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking off; the rain has calmed into a light drizzle now, and you hear his jovial voice greet Donghyuck by the waiting shed, asking him if he wants to tag along for a burger.
This is… fine. It’s not a big deal. You really just want to shower. Except, you know, you’re not really sure how you’re going to explain yourself to Mark. Except, do you really have to? It’s just a shower. He’d understand. He… showers too, doesn’t he? Yeah. That’s good.
Even with this logic, you walk in carefully, trying to keep your steps as light and as quiet as possible. The rows of lockers in here somehow look longer and larger — male athlete privilege, you guess — but you’re grateful for the fact that maybe in this tiny labyrinth of lockers and benches, you can completely avoid Mark.
You almost do, too, right until your foot lands in a puddle and goes skidding so far you feel like your pelvis has snapped in half; with a squeak of surprise, you claw at the side of a locker row, making the loudest, most obnoxious set of sounds an accident could produce as you crumple to the floor, mildly shell-shocked.
“Who’s there?”
The voice is unmistakable, and you right yourself just in time for Mark to peek out from behind the set of lockers two rows down. His face morphs from initial alarm, to brief surprise, finally settling with confusion. You try your best to look as collected as possible, but it’s hard when you take the whole form of him in and notice that he’s already stripped off his shirt and remains only in his pants.
“Hey, um. Mark. Hey,” you force a smile out. “I didn’t know you were still here.”
“I was talking to coach,” he says in a small, slightly disbelieving voice. You don’t miss the once-over he gives your whole drowned rat aesthetic. “Sorry — what are you doing here, ____________?”
“I was, um—” you try to come up with something less stupid, but nothing sticks to you better than the truth, so you admit it anyway. “Just… wanted to take a shower here.”
“Oh… you know this… is the boys’ locker room,” he reminds you carefully, as if he’s trying not to hurt your feelings even if he’s essentially pointing out how stupid he thinks you are.
“I know. There’s no hot water in the girls’ locker room, so I thought… I thought I would just—“ you gesture around yourself, and Mark’s round eyes follow the course of your left hand.
“Right.”
“It would be really great if you didn’t tell anyone,” you add.
“I won’t. It’s just me in here, anyway.”
A terrible silence passes between you two. You can see the gooseflesh forming on his arms and shoulders from being exposed to the chill for too long. You’re acutely aware of how loud the sound of your heavy, wet skirt is when you shift your weight from foot to foot, and he’s watching you carefully, with this sort of strange, glazed-over look that you can’t read. You both open your mouth at the same time to speak.
“Have you been avoi—”
“Great game, by th—”
You stop at the same time too, and you share a nervous laugh. At this, the tension in his shoulders goes away, even though he does look slightly uncomfortable standing half-naked in front of you. He gestures for you to keep talking.
“You played great, was what I wanted to say,” you rub at your arm. “I know Donghyuck and I weren’t serious about it at first, but you really play like you belong out there.”
“Oh — thanks,” for some reason, even if it’s a compliment, he looks mildly disappointed. “It’s really just practice.”
“I know that you practiced hard, but I also think you play pretty naturally. And you run… well, too.” You avoided a bullet by biting your tongue down and keeping it from saying something about how good he looks running.
“Thank you.” He folds his arms across his chest, keeping out the cold as much as he can. “Do — have you been, you know, avoiding me?” You shake your head, but he continues to elaborate. “I can quit, you know, if you don’t like it — me being on the football team. If it’s taking up too much time that we can’t even hang out after, I don’t really want that to be the reason for us to just fall out. I already talked to coach about it, and he said—”
“Mark,” you speak over him, a little alarmed. “I don’t — of course I don’t want you to quit.”
“Oh.” He looks slightly relieved. “But, then, you’ve been—”
“Yeah, I know I’ve been missing in action,” you lick your lips nervously. “It’s just personal stuff, but like, not the serious kind? Don’t — I mean, you don’t have to worry about it.”
“I thought maybe you hated that I was on the team now,” he goes on.
“It’s not that. I love that you’re on the team.” More than you know. “I’m sorry; I’ll be better. We can do breakfast for dinner on Thursdays again, like we used to.”
He stares at you, like he’s unsure of how to phrase his next thought into a meaningful sentence, so he just nods and settles with a shorter, “Donghyuck will like that.”
The next silence kills you as the desire to explain yourself bubbles up again, but the dying purity inside you causes you to swallow it back. Mark is the first to break the silence this time, without any interruption from you.
“I should really go take a shower.”
“Oh — yeah, me too,” you gesture vaguely to the exit with your thumb. “Donghyuck’s waiting for us.”
“Better not keep him standing out there in the rain, then,” he points jerkily to the next row of lockers. “You can just change there. Or wherever else. I’ll be in the shower anyway.”
You nod your thanks, not trusting yourself to speak clearly anymore, opting to shuffle to where he’d indicated. You’re all alone on this side of the lockers, but you can hear Mark moving about, a locker door opening and closing as he gets his things ready. You have to keep reminding yourself to stay on target instead of listening in like some creepy maniac, but you pause, swallowing thickly as you hear the tell-tale sound of wet fabric hitting the concrete floor, and you know that’s him taking off the last article of clothing he has on.
You think that this experience can’t be good for your mental health, but it doesn’t even matter because your mind is so invested in the idea that Mark’s bare body is less than four feet away from you that it can’t think about its slow, inevitable death.
The sound of a shower curtain being pulled close followed by water running signals that Mark is in the shower. You peel off the rest of your clothes, and hold your towel close to your chest as you walk over to the stalls. The one that he’s occupying falls right under the ceiling light, so you can see his blurry silhouette move through the fairly thin curtain. Your throat is dry, and you want to walk past it to get to the next stall, but you stop right in front of it, weirdly mesmerized by his form.
“Mark,” you say before you can stop yourself. You see him stop and listen, one hand still in his hair, frozen in the act of shampooing. His head turns, and you can tell he knows you’re standing right outside the stall, mere inches away from him.
“Yeah?” His voice sounds different — maybe higher and a little more frail, although you assume it’s just the steam affecting his vocal chords, or whatever excuse your mind half-assedly churns out.
“I have been avoiding you,” you confess, doing that stupid shifting from foot to foot thing again. Something like a sigh escapes his lips, rising above the stall along with the steam.
“I knew it. Do you really not like me being in the team that much? You should have just said so. I told you, I can quit — really. Our friendship is more important than some sport I didn’t even know how to play six months ago.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” you chew your lip. “It’s more that I like it so much I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“What? Football?”
“No. You playing football.”
Something hits the floor inside — probably a bar of soap — and you see Mark fumble with it for a moment before straightening back up. He doesn’t say anything, though, so you press on.
“Ever since you started playing, I sort of felt like you were — I don’t know. Different? You look different for sure, but you act differently; you even walk differently. But not in a bad way. Like, in a good way. A really good way. And it’s distracting me a lot, so for my own, um, sake, I had to… take a step back.”
You feel like you’ve said everything you can at this point without giving extreme on-the-nose specifics or a terrible love confession, so there’s nothing for you to do except wait for a response. When it comes, it isn’t what you’re really expecting.
“Actually, I don’t think there’s any hot water in the other stalls either,” he says in a careful voice, so soft that it’s almost drowned out by the water.
“I can just shower after you,” you mutter in disappointment. The conversation seems over for a brief second until he replies with a much firmer voice.
“There won’t be any hot water after I shower.”
“I’ll just go to the dorms, then.”
“_____________,” he says your name in slow, deliberate syllables. “There won’t be any hot water there either. Trust me.“
You stare dully at his form through the shower curtain for what feels like forever until something dawns on you, and a mild shiver runs down your spine — not at the cold but at the thought of your interpretation being correct. Slowly, carefully, you toss your towel so that it hangs next to his on the metal rod on the shower curtain. You wait for him to protest, but all he does is make his silhouette grow slightly smaller as he steps back, and you take this as a good sign, pulling the shower curtain aside and quickly stepping into the stall before your nerve completely abandons you.
You’ve never seen Mark naked before. It’s not like you’ve tried before recently, but when you think about it now, you feel like your assumptions have slightly undersold him. He’s always been on the slightly lankier side (at least, in your opinion), and even with all the toning up he’s done, you don’t actually expect him to look this… good. His muscles are actually well-defined now that you can see the shadows they create under the light, and his body is extremely well-groomed.
His cock is slightly bigger than you’d initially imagined, too, probably because you’ve only ever guessed at its form through stolen glances. It’s as long as you’ve assumed, but its girth is strangely more than the football pants had let on. You wonder if it had always been like this or if he had grown into it over a span of, like, ten years, and then you feel like a pervert again for being more concerned with that more than the fact that your best friend is backed up against the wall, regarding you with wide eyes.
His lips are parted, and the water coming down from the shower catches on its curves and rolls down, creating a new dimension to them. It takes all of your self-restraint to stop yourself from kissing them at that exact moment.
Your gaze meets his, and nervousness overtakes your lust; you have to remind yourself that he wanted this too — invited you in — just so that you don’t make a run for it.
“I don’t think I’ve ever—” He swallows hard; the water on his lips make them look slick and irritatingly delicious. “Told you why I stayed on the team either.”
“Now’s a good time,” you say quietly, trying to be nonchalant, which is stupid, because your naked bodies are at most two feet away from each other.
“At first, I was thinking we could hang out more, since you were always caught up in practice during the afternoons. But recently, I—” Mark lets out a nervous chuckle. “When we take breaks, I watch you practice. I’ve never actually seen you; you look so pretty when you dance.”
“Shut up,” you whisper, feeling a blush crawl up your neck. “When have you ever said something like that to me?”
“What? You thought you were the only one brave enough to confess?” He laughs a little more easily. His back is off the wall now, body a little closer to yours. Whether this is intentional or not, you don’t know, and you don’t ask. “I was thinking… that I would pluck the courage to ask you out soon, but then it felt like you were ignoring me, and I worried, I guess?” He’s shifting from foot to foot now, too; the habit seems to be contagious. “I thought you didn’t like that I was on the football team.”
“I’ve always liked it. Maybe a little too much.”
He’s inches closer now; you think that this can’t be some random set of movements he’s unaware of. You’re also vividly aware of how hard his cock is, standing erect extremely close to your thigh.
“I’ve always liked you,” he murmurs. “Maybe a little too much.”
“You never acted like it,” you accuse him without real heat. He smiles, more to himself than anything.
“I didn’t really know until the first time I saw you out on the field,” he chuckles. “If you hadn’t said anything first, I might have taken it to the grave, too.”
“I guess I have to live up to being the pushier one in this friendship now and then.”
He laughs, a rich sound that causes a pleasant shiver to pass through your body. Mark notices the slight movement, and he reaches out, pausing in hesitation before taking your waist, his palms pressing against your flesh.
“We’re in the shower together,” he mumbles as if it’s the first time he’s noticing. “Two hours ago, I was worried you were going to stop being my friend.”
“We’re in the shower together,” you repeat, a small smile lifting your lips. Mark mirrors the action. “I think that fact kind of trumps your fears.”
It takes him a while to say anything, his fingers doing most of the work by trailing along your side, dipping into the curve of your waist and skimming over your hip. The steam curls up over the both of you, creating a thin veil that leaves his skin glowing. He only speaks up again when his hands place light pressure against your skin, and he draws closer with this anchor, his eyes traveling further down the landscape of your frame.
“I—” he lets out a nervous laugh. “I can’t believe — we must be breaking twenty school rules right now.”
“Do you mind?”
“Not really. It’s new to me, but — you know. It’s not that weird; not when it’s with you.” His eyes move up again, gaze meeting yours. “Do you?”
“Mind?” You laugh, and his smile widens at the sound. “Not at all. Not when the pay off is looking at you this way.”
He stops pulling himself closer until you’re almost nose to nose, and he replaces his hands with his arms, slowly winding them around your form. From this level of closeness, you can see the droplets of water forming on his eyelashes, dripping down the curve of his cupid’s bow.
“You said,” he tries again, his voice a little softer now — a whisper just for the both of you. “You said I was distracting you.”
“You were.”
“How?”
“I thought a lot about you,” your voice is level with his, almost drowned out by the sound of the shower spray.
“What did you think about?”
You hesitate. The situation at the present is well-established for sex, but you somehow still feel like you’re the only impure one in this stall. Mark is watching you, though, his expression somewhat expectant but mostly genuinely curious. You decide to go the gradually honest route.
“At first, I just… thought a lot about how different you were on the field. You’re more confident; you’re more… alive, I guess?” You laugh at your poor choice of words. “I was surprised, but I liked it a lot. But, um — more recently, you’ve been playing a more active role in the fiction-generated part of my train of thought.”
“Like how?”
You check his expression, and nothing has changed, except maybe his eyes have grown slightly wider.
“I think about… us,” you admit, suddenly refusing to meet his gaze for the rest of your spiel. “I thought a lot about situations where I’d get to see you like this. Where I would get to touch you and taste you.”
You’re so close to him now, wound up in his figure that you feel the shiver run through his body. He clears his throat. “Do I get to touch and taste you in any of those distracting thoughts, too?”
Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out, and he looks… amused now. Slightly nervous, but there’s a small twinkle in his eye that is unmistakably mischievous. When you don’t respond, he plows on anyway.
“You’re not that special, ____________,” he teases breathily. Your eyes snap up to his again. His face is growing pink, but he doesn’t have any intention of stopping, clearly. “What? Like you’re the only one who’s allowed to think about us? I think about it, too. Sometimes I think about lying in bed with you. Other days, I think about making love to you. Most days, though…”
He sucks in a deep breath; you notice that his arms are shaking a little, like the act of saying so many things at once has drained him of a bulk of energy, but his grip around your waist only grows tighter, and his cock, pressed between your stomachs, twitches.
“Most days I just think about kissing you.”
“Well,” you say, a little hoarsely. “Great minds think alike.”
Mark laughs right before he presses his mouth against yours, cutting the sound off with your lips. You initially assume that it’s going to be brief, but he seems to decide that now is not really the time for elementary-school-style chasteness, opting to part his lips against yours quickly and flicking his tongue out against the seam of your lips. You eagerly respond in kind, coaxing his tongue into your mouth and allowing him to explore it, the wet muscle flicking against your palate and passing over the ridges of your teeth. It kind of tickles, actually, and you want to laugh, except that would ruin the moment you’ve worked so damn hard for, and you would never forgive yourself for that.
His hands are at your sides again, skimming up and down your skin with more fervor, and you return the favor by pressing your palm against his chest, fingers tracing long, slow lines down his chest, one digit catching on his nipple. You’d say something about how cute the consequent shiver is, but you’re currently rubbing your tongue against his eagerly, so you don’t really get to. There’s no other word to encompass Mark’s taste; it’s just clean — fresh, a little bit minty, maybe, and sharp in the most pleasant of ways. A moan passes between you, and you’re not sure who the source is, but it causes your lips to vibrate against his.
Both of you are under the spray of the shower now, the warm water constantly running between your lips, and your hand follows the liquid trail downwards, stopping just above the base of his cock. Mark stiffens, and for a brief moment of panic, you think maybe you’re acting too fast. The fear dissipates just as quickly as it comes when his lips mouth against yours more eagerly, his teeth digging into the flesh of your bottom lip. You let out a soft whine, and he pulls away, his face suddenly morphing into unparalleled concern.
“Did that hurt? I’m sorry.”
“No,” your fingers, acting on the unspoken green light, wrap around his shaft, and you can see him trying extremely hard not to drop his eyes and stare. A low huff escapes him. “I just wanted to do that to you first.”
He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do you really have the time to be competitive about this? Right now?”
“I guess not,” you admit. “I should probably focus on what I’m doing, anyway.”
His second laugh segues into a low moan as your hand begins to stroke his cock slowly; it’s almost weird how much more heightened your arousal is at the sound, coupled with the sight of his jaw going just a little bit slack, his eyelids dropping halfway. You’ve never seen Mark like this — in fact, you’re fairly certain no one has, and the thought of you being the first to witness pleasure on his face makes you feel maybe a little inappropriately emotional at a time like this. Luckily, the sounds he’s making are some you’re wholly willing to focus on instead.
He leans back in, and you’re prepared for another sweet kiss, but he dips his head, soft lips landing on your shoulder. His kisses are firmer this time, more audible against your skin, and he trails them along the curve of your shoulder inwards until he reaches the dip of your neck. Something that doesn’t feel like his lips presses against your skin there — it’s his tongue, you realize a little belatedly as he licks a slow, careful stripe up your neck, causing a soft, surprised moan to leave you, and the hum that rumbles in his throat as he kisses back down your neck leaves small, tingling patches against your skin.
You also think his mouth is content where it is, but it seems like Mark has a penchant for the unexpected that you’d never been fully aware of, because his lips trace a messy line even further down. When his hands come up your sides, they stop just above your stomach, and you feel his thumbs stretch out, tracing the lower curve of your breasts slowly. You’d planned on saying something — maybe to egg him on (the specifics hadn’t been laid out in your head yet) — but that plan flies out the window when he bends a little more, his lips tracing a small spiral around your nipple before he takes it between his lips.
“Holy shit.” The electric shock of his lips causes you to tighten your fingers slightly on his shaft, and your hand moves at a slightly quicker pace. You’re satisfied to hear the groan that sounds against your skin, even though this triumph is easily overwhelmed by the feeling of him sucking diligently — almost reverently — on your nipple, his hand cupped under your breast with just the right amount of pinch.
The stall is filled with steam now, but with it rises the frequent sounds of your moans and heavy breaths. The water beating down on you makes Mark’s cock interestingly slippery, letting you speed up your strokes with little friction or resistance. The result is amazing; while his head is still bent, lips pressed down on your skin as they move relentlessly against your nipple, you see his hips moving slightly against your hand. You try to push past the haze of pleasure his fingers and mouth on your body are creating and slow your hand to a stop. You’re absolutely fascinated by the fact that even though he makes a soft, slightly questioning noise, his hips are still rocking in minute motions against your hold. Not for the first time, you feel faint in the shower stall; you’d never imagined you’d see Mark fucking himself into your hand, but here you are, witnessing it in high definition, and it’s glorious.
It doesn’t last for long, but it’s still a good enough amount of time before he realizes you’re almost motionless, dazed by the sight. You almost miss his question entirely. “What’s wrong?”
“You,” your words come out breathless. “Are so hot. It’s not fair.”
“You’re kidding, right?” He chuckles softly. You meet his eye now that the mini show is over. He’s looking up at you, wide-eyed and amused, lips still unintentionally grazing against your nipple.
“Can we try something?” You ignore him entirely, but thanks to his general personality, he doesn’t complain; he just nods a little in response. No sooner has he pressed a tiny kiss to your nipple do you back him up against the shower stall’s wall, and he straightens his posture. Your plan is only slightly derailed when he reaches up, cradling your face and landing a brief kiss against your lips. He doesn’t say anything even as he watches you take a small step back before you carefully sink up to your knees or even when you place your palms flush against his thighs. The only time he actually starts asking questions again is when you brush your lips against the tip of his cock, to which he responds with a soft intake of breath.
“What’s the plan here, ___________?”
“I’m going to put your cock in my mouth,” you announce, and you don’t miss how his eyebrows lift slightly. “And you’re going to move your hips. Can we do that?”
“I don’t think I’m going to live through it,” he rasps. “I’m actually two seconds away from a heart attack.”
“Well, hold it in,” you laugh softly, but he doesn’t join in this time; you can tell he’s torn between keeping himself in check and just letting his desire take the reins entirely. He stares down at you, chest rising and falling a little more aggressively. “Come on. Please?”
“I’ve never done that. What if I hurt you?”
“You won’t,” you make the promise for him. “Just do it slowly. I’ll tell you if it’s too much. Please?”
“You know you’re being unfair. It’s really hard to say no when you’re like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like this. Kneeling down in front of me. You know. Begging me,” his hands curl into your hair, making more of a mess of it. When he speaks again, his voice is quieter than ever. “Okay. We can try.”
He doesn’t lead you closer like you think he will with his hold on your hair, so you take the initiative, parting your lips so that your tongue can flick out against the tip of the head. It elicits a shiver that visibly runs through his body, and that’s all the invitation you need to wrap your lips around his cock. His grip tightens minutely, and he looks down at you again, still somewhat concerned. You think it would be kind of stupid to just nod with part of a dick in your mouth, so you squeeze his thighs lightly. Luckily, Mark gets the signal, and with a soft, drawn-out exhale, he starts to move his hips shallowly.
It’s nothing extreme at this point, really; the tip doesn’t even hit the halfway point of your mouth, and he’s moving so carefully that a kid’s gait might outrun him at this rate, but the look on his face is exquisite. Mark in any angle is attractive, and you’ve long come to admit this, but you haven’t been able to decide on which angle is actually his best. You’d always assumed it was his profile, but the view you have now, with him looking down at you, gaze burning, his lips formed around an unspoken ‘o’ of pleasure, has trumped every other angle by a mile.
You still think that him being quiet isn’t so much what you wanted — in fact, the minutes you’ve spent in the shower have not only come to embolden you but have also sparked a weird, internal competitiveness that makes you want to push all of Mark’s buttons until you can find the one that makes him noisy. So far, you’ve gotten a few moans out of him, but nothing that feels satisfying. Even when you roll your tongue against the underside of his cock with every slow pump into your mouth, he doesn’t do much but hum or groan a little, brow furrowed in concentration. You want to egg him on, but you don’t know how, and you’re also not sure how far down his cock you can go before something unfortunate happens.
The solution presents itself when you focus a little less on Mark’s face and more on his cock; more than half of his length is exposed to hot air and water. Your right hand leaves his thigh as your left one gives his thigh another reassuring squeeze, and your fingers once again wrap around the now familiar shape of his shaft just as he rolls them forward.
Mark swears sparingly, especially since he tries to avoid situations that stress him out enough to get him to drop a bomb. For some reason, that just makes it more potent and extreme, like it’s a signal that indicates just how far something’s pushed him. It’s not surprising that you feel some kind of pride swell in your chest when the first out of a long string of fucks suddenly falls from his lips, hoarse and frustrated. His other hand joins the one already tangled in your hair, and there’s an uncharacteristic glassiness in his eyes as he rocks his hips forward with more intent.
“Fuck, ____________,” he slows his litany of curse words with your name, tongue peeking out to catch the water that’s pooled just above his upper lip. “Fuck, you look so hot. What the fuck.”
You can’t respond, so you make a pleased noise in the back of your throat that resonates down his shaft, and he tilts his head back at the feeling. His Adam’s apple bobs dangerously, like he’s swallowed down the rest of his obscenities, and you can’t see much of his face apart from his jawline, which has tensed into a sharp angle.
Your left hand finally leaves his thigh, assured that he won’t need any more guidance, and it finds its way between your legs. You’ve gotten off embarrassingly quickly by imagining Mark like this — moaning, erect, drowning in pleasure because of you — but now that it’s playing out in real time in front of you, you have all the content you could ask for and more. Your fingers find your clit, rubbing it with the same speed his hips are following, and while you haven’t had much practice with your subordinate hand, it doesn’t even matter; you’re so turned on that even half-assed masturbation could probably get you off easily at this point.
You actually think this is how it’s going to end — with Mark fucking into your hand and mouth until he cums, with you fingering yourself until you climax as well — but that fantasy comes to a disappointing halt when he stops moving his hips again, panting as he finally finds the strength to look back down at you. His hands lead your mouth back, easing your lips off his cock as he lets out a soft noise of relief.
“Why’d you stop?” Your mouth feels a little numb, so you stumble over your words somewhat.
“Wa — are you fingering yourself?” He asks, fascinated and now ignoring your question, drawing his head back in a vain attempt to get a better angle.
“You looked so good,” you state, like this should explain everything. “You tasted so good. Why did we stop?”
“As hot as that was, and it was really hot,” he chuckles. “I kind of feel like it’s unfair that you’re keeping your pussy to yourself.”
His voice and words make your chest clench so hard that you can’t even make a noise; your mouth just forms soundlessly around an incredulous oh my god. Mark’s thumb traces your lips as they move.
“Think you can still stand?”
“I don’t know,” you admit. Your calves and thighs had started burning a few minutes into this position, considering you’d spent a good part of the evening before running around and jumping. “If I can’t, will you kneel down with me?“
“Yeah. But let’s try getting you up first.” He takes both of your hands, and you use his hold as leverage, slowly getting to your feet. Your face is impossibly close to his, and his hands are back around your waist. You can see a streak of water slide down his nose, and you lean in to press your lips to the tip, stopping it in its tracks. Mark laughs again, a low rumble of a sound that comes from his chest. “You good?”
You nod, opting to to spend more of your energy on pressing a kiss to his lips again; he returns it without hesitation, but it only lasts very briefly. When he pulls away, you notice that he squeezes your hips a little tighter.
“Turn around,” His voice is still soft, but it’s lost whatever hesitation he’d had before this moment. You follow wordlessly, keeping yourself as close to his form as possible, and his hands never leave your waist, skimming over your stomach. Even if you hear him take a small step back to adjust, you can still feel his cock hard against you, settled between your asscheeks. You press your hips back against his, closing whatever tiny gap he may have made, and you hear him laugh quietly again.
The one regrettable thing about agreeing to turn around is that you can’t see him anymore; his hands move across your skin, rising and falling over the curve of your ass, but you can’t watch him do it without putting a lot of strain on your neck. You have to content yourself with imagining his expression as his fingers dig into your skin lightly, spreading your cheeks apart slightly. At least he makes a sound — a low, appreciative hum that gives you just enough to guess.
He shifts his stance, moving his cock downwards before his hands ease them between your legs; you feel his length pressed up against your folds, and he starts to rock his hips again in the same slow, controlled movements that seem almost trademark. You make the mistake of not keeping your volume in check as you let out a moan, feeling the tip rub against your clit.
Fingers crawl up your stomach, his hands briefly stopping at your chest to squeeze at your breasts. He keeps one hand in place while the other continues its journey, settling gently at the base of your neck. His forefinger stretches upward slightly to press against your lips.
“Someone could hear you.”
“We’re the only people left.”
“You don’t know who could be outside,” he sounds amused at your quick, nonchalant response.
“I don’t think they can hear us from outside. Even if they did, they wouldn’t know who’s in here,” you pause before smiling against his finger. “Unless you want them to.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I can be a little more specific, if that turns you on.”
Mark falls silent, clearly trying to decide how to proceed. His finger traces the shape of your lips before falling lax in front of them, and you take this opportunity to flick your tongue out against it.
You expect him to retract his hand, or something, but you don’t expect his hips to jerk forward a little in surprise, and you let out an even louder moan as his cock skims against your folds. Your thighs close a little more deliberately, adding to the friction.
“Jesus.” His voice is thick, distant, like he’s choked up on something. You can only imagine that he’s probably gritting his teeth, which is a sight you wish you could see, if you weren’t so intent on pushing this newfound button of his.
“Mark,” you breathe out. You feel his cock twitch between your legs. “I want you inside me.”
As soon as you finish your sentence, you part your lips, taking his finger into your mouth. There’s a sharp intake of breath behind you, and you waste no time in bringing your lips down to the knuckle, suckling languidly.
You hear him say something about a heart attack again, but he complies, pulling his hips back so he can align himself to your entrance. In your impatience, you push your hips back. Your moans harmonize as you feel him enter you, and he only waits a moment to collect himself before he’s slowly pushing in, his grip on your breast tightening a little. He’s careful, so careful, like he’s worried if he moves too suddenly you’ll freak out and leave. Reluctantly, you release his finger.
“More,” you murmur when he seems to be slowing to a stop. “I want all of you.”
“You need to relax or something. You’re so fucking tight. Holy shit.”
“You don’t have to act like I’m made of glass,” you laugh softly before letting out a noise of frustration as he actually stops halfway. “Mark.”
“I don’t want to hurt you. But also,” he exhales a little shakily. “This view is nice. Like, really nice.”
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been wet since I saw you shirtless outside,” you admit. He makes an amused sound. “Come on. I want to feel all of you stretch my pussy.”
“If you keep talking like this I’m just going to cum on the spot,” he warns. “Is this the kind of dialogue you’ve been imagining we’d have during sex?”
“Sort of.” You don’t even have it in you to sound sheepish; you’ve focused your attention on more pressing matters, like trying to push yourself further along his length. “You’re kind of nastier in my head though. But that’s probably my fault more than yours.”
“Okay, now that just makes me more curious.” His hands realign at your hips before moving backwards, and he spreads your asscheeks again, gripping your flesh a little more tightly as he inches himself forward. You finally let out a soft sigh of relief when you feel his hips flush against yours again, and your walls pulse around him. “Tell me what else you and I say in your head.”
“Why don’t you start moving,” you suggest. “And we’ll see what comes out of my mouth.”
He hums in assent before drawing his hips back and rolling them forward; the soft moan that comes from you is a signal for him to keep going. Mark thrusts in the same manner he seems to do everything in his life — cleanly, carefully, thoroughly. It feels good, but you can also tell he’s holding back, because his grip on your hips is unconventionally tight for his current pace.
It’s actually quiet apart from the intermittent sounds that pass between you; you actually think about saying something dirty, but you put that thought aside when it feels a little too sudden after a silence. You chew on your lip, trying to figure out how to get him to let loose without sounding way too demanding about it. It’s only when you think about Mark’s words — his heightened concern — that you start to pinpoint what the problem is.
“It’s not just about hurting me, is it?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re worried about something else.”
“Is it that transparent?” He chuckles softly, his hips slowing to a stop again. You decide to let it slide this time.
“You were fine before this,” you point out. “You even said—”
“I know, I know.”
“Do you not want to… anymore? It’s okay, you know. If you don’t,” you add quickly.
“Wha — no,” this time, it’s his voice that rises a little. “No, that’s not it at all. I’ve always wanted to — you have no idea how much I’ve…”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. A while ago, I was kind of in the heat of the moment, and you looked so… so hot, and it was all good, and then, just now, I just realized,” he laughs softly at nothing in particular, but it’s an embarrassed kind of laugh. “I might not live up to your expectations at all.”
You want to throw him a look of disbelief, but you can only turn your head so far sideways, so you can’t see his face fully. You settle with giving him a side eye that you hope translates just how absurd you think he’s being.
“Are you kidding?”
“I don’t want our first time to be disappointing for you,” he continues. “If you have standards, and I don’t meet them, won’t it be too awkward for us after?”
“I really want to look you in the eye right now, but since I like the fact that you’re still inside me while we’re having this conversation, you’re just going to have to imagine me looking a little sternly but affectionately at you,” you instruct, and he snorts softly. “Mark, the one and only standard I have for any fantasy I’ve ever had is that you’re part of it. Since you’re here, I think we can call this a win.”
“So after this…?”
“After this, we’re going to take Donghyuck out for a late dinner, and if we still have the energy after that, you’re going to tell him to sleep in Renjun’s room so I can come over and ride you, or something.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he hums approvingly. “I guess I could roll with that, then.”
“So stop holding back,” you groan. He chuckles, leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder blade, the act of him nodding causing his lips to brush against your skin. This time, without your prompting, he starts to move his hips again, pulling them back and rolling them back forward with more resolution. “Fuck. Okay, this, I’m on board for.”
His breath cools against your skin as he laughs silently, but it doesn’t last long; he focuses more of his energy on his movements, and you can hear a low groan echo from the back of his throat. His palms move to press against your stomach lightly, but one of them slides further downward. You feel his fingers press against your clit, rubbing it in intense circles that match his pace. You moan low, feeling yourself tighten around him again.
“I guess shower sex has that whole keeping you super wet perk.”
“Nope,” your voice is higher than usual, but it isn’t cracking yet, at least. “That’s all you.”
“Yeah, I kind of just wanted to hear you say it,” he chuckles. Your admission of it seems to renew his confidence, and his thrusts grow sharper, his two fingers spreading your folds so he can rub the middle one along your slit, having it brush against your clit with every upward stroke. You can’t help but squirm a little at the stimulation, but he keeps you firmly in the embrace of his other arm.
“You like hearing how wet you make me?”
“It’s suddenly become my new favorite topic.”
“I’ll be sure to bring it up at every appropriate time,” you promise. “Like when you’re balls deep in me, or something.”
“Great plan,” his voice sounds a little short, but your assumption is just that he’s trying to conserve his breath now that he’s giving it his all. Now that he’s not burdened with irrational worries, he’s fallen into the delicious pattern of drawing his hips back almost until he’s out of you before snapping his hips forward, burying himself back into you until the base. The feeling of being filled doesn’t turn you on as much as the idea of him being the one who’s filling you, and your moans increase in pitch and volume with every thrust. He doesn’t even try to shush you anymore; in fact, you feel like it’s sort of driving him, considering that he seems to move his hips more intensely whenever you moan his name, prolonging the last syllable.
The hot water is starting to run out; you feel even more goosebumps on your back and shoulder as the water starts to cool down. Your teeth are digging hard into your bottom lip because you’re desperately trying to hold back the fact that you’ve been humiliatingly close to cumming since you’d felt his cock against your clit, but you can feel yourself pulsing around him dangerously. Just when you’re about to confess, though, he suddenly pushes his hips harder into you, suddenly stopping with a low groan.
“Mark —“
“Don’t be mad,” he mutters, his voice dangerously low. “But I’ve been holding myself back since you gave me that blowjob.”
“Technically, you fucked my mouth —“
“Yeah, whatever, that really hot thing you did that almost made me blow a load,” he snaps. You feel his cock throb inside you, and you mewl.
“I’m really fucking close too,” you admit, and he doesn’t skip a single beat. His hips jerk up, allowing him to grind his cock into you for one intense second as he pulls your back flush hard against his chest. He buries his face into your shoulder, and you can feel his short, labored breathing as he pumps into you.
You can’t even form coherent sentences to keep egging him on, so you’re just stammering at this point, switching between Mark and so close and a string of obscenities that heightens in volume when you feel yourself tighten right before you reach your peak. Even when your shoulders tense and you fall into a blissful silence in your climax, Mark doesn’t stop, diligently fucking into you in his determination to keep you riding your high. It doesn’t end when you come back down, either, and you’re a whimpering mess in his arms, nails digging into his forearms and repeatedly moaning out how much you want to see him cum.
“Fuck,” he breathes out, and his voice breaks uncharacteristically; he’s close, but he’s still going, his thrusts growing erratic and sharp. “Fuck, _____________.”
“Mark,” you whine, neediness thick in your voice. “Let me blow you again.”
“You feel so good, though,” he whispers reluctantly. “I don’t want to stop.”
“Mark—”
“Shit, I know,” he groans, easing you away. You turn to look at him, and the sight makes your knees weak; his brow is furrowed, and his hand on his cock, stroking it haphazardly. His lips are parted slightly, and he’s staring at you with a burning desire that somehow makes you wish you hadn’t asked him to pull out. You’re so entranced by how he looks that you almost forget why you’d turned around in the first place, and it’s his low, drawn-out moan that snaps you back into focus.
Getting back on your knees, you tug his hand away; it falls back to his side as you replace it with your own hand, stroking his length at a quicker pace. You can see him threatening to tilt backwards, and you call his attention before it can tip all the way.
“Mark,” you breathe out. “Baby, look at me.”
He complies, slowly bending his head and squeezing his eyes shut for a second before opening them to gaze down at you. His pupils are blown out, and water caught on his lips drips down onto your hand and face.
“Tell me where you want to cum.”
“Shit,” he looks dazed; the fact that you’re squeezing him probably isn’t helping. “I — I don’t know.”
“Do you want to cum in my mouth?”
“Oh my god.” He squeezes his eyes shut again. “Fuck. Fuck yes, yes.”
“Look at me when you do,” you press. “I want you to see your cum all over my lips.”
He looks positively overwhelmed at this point, but he opens his eyes again, fixing his stare on your lips, which have parted to kiss his tip. Your tongue peeks out, pressing flat against the underside of his cock as you continue to stroke him, trying to coax him into climaxing.
He starts to rock his hips again, but instead of intensifying his thrusts, he suddenly tenses; his cock twitches against your hold, and you feel the heat of his cum spill onto your tongue and stain your lips. You can tell he really wants to keep his voice down, but he can’t control the long groan that leaves him. Mark’s expression is something straight out of the million fantasies you’ve had, with him unconsciously licking his lips at the same time you lick your own clean. He stands in slightly dumbfounded silence, not breaking eye contact as he watches you swallow.
He doesn’t even say anything as he helps you up, but he does gather you in his arms again. His embrace is tighter than before, and he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then the bridge of your nose, then finally your lips. His fingers glide down your back, resting naturally just above your ass.
“Holy shit,” he finally manages to cough out as he pulls away.
“For sure,” you agree, and you watch his lips curl up into a grin. “Never had a shower sex fantasy. Not sure why, but I guess I found out what I should have imagined.”
“These fantasies of yours — do you have, like, a list, or—?”
“Only up in here,” you point to your temple, and he pulls out a disappointed expression. “What does it matter?”
“Well, what kind of checklist am I supposed to make now?”
“You want a sex checklist? Can’t it just be spontaneous like this?”
“I’ll have to work on it.” He reaches behind you, taking the soap from the holder and pressing the flat of it against your back before rubbing it in gentle, circular motions. “It would be nice to have a guide, though, so I’m not repeating myself, or whatever. For example, we can’t have shower sex again tomorrow. That would just be lazy planning.”
“You don’t need a guide,” you say dismissively. “But I’m kind of into the fact that you already think we’re going to fuck again tomorrow.”
“Are we not?”
“We are. That’s why I’m into it.”
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
When you come out of the boys’ locker room, Donghyuck is standing by the door, arms folded across his chest. He’s visibly miffed and bursts into an enraged whisper when you step out, followed by Mark.
“You guys were in there for an hour! The janitor came and tried to lock the door. Thank god he said there was a ghost inside and he went to the chapel to get the priest. What took you so long?”
“There was only one shower,” Mark says simply. “The girls’ locker room didn’t have any hot water.”
“You take like ten minutes showering,” Donghyuck accuses him before turning to you. “And you hate long showers because they make your fingers wrinkly. Two showers back to back don’t equal an hour in there.”
“We didn’t take back to back showers,” you reply, equally monotone.
The three of you stand in silence, with Mark only moving to close the door behind him. Donghyuck points a slim finger at him, then at you, then at the door. Finally, it makes its way back to you, and his jaw drops a little as the pieces fall into place.
“You’re the ghost?”
“Hey, I wasn’t the only one making noise in there.”
“I wasn’t that loud,” Mark defends himself, hugging his jacket closer to his chest. Donghyuck shakes his closed umbrella, the droplets flying around.
“You guys made me stand out here and try to talk the janitor into getting a different mop while you had locker room sex?”
“Technically, it was shower sex. Locker room sex sounds too public,” you correct him, and he makes a disbelieving noise.
“Weren’t you the one pressuring me into admitting I had feelings for her?” Mark frowns, and Donghyuck freezes, his mouth still open from the words he had been about to say. Your eyes widen, and it’s your turn to point an accusing finger at him.
“You told Mark what?”
“He said I needed to confess or some other guy on the team would beat me to it.” Mark inhales sharply at his following realization. “There isn’t another guy on the team, is there?”
“Technically, we don’t know who has feelings for her on the team, so I might not have been lying so much as guessing with only little information,” Donghyuck sounds decidedly less hostile now. Mark rolls his eyes.
“You told me to just get laid!” You recall, and Donghyuck flinches.
“I didn’t mean right now in the damn showers while I waited for you out here for eons. I was thinking, like, one of you would confess, and then you’d go on a date later in the week, and if things go well then you’d kick me out of the room so you could bone, or something. It’s not my fault you guys made it sound like a scene from the exorcist in there.”
“We didn’t— okay, you know what?” You snatch his umbrella, and he lets it go without much resistance. “Let’s just go back. Come on, Mark.”
You open the umbrella, the remnants of the rain flying outwards as you do. Mark takes the handle from you, and you both march away, leaving Donghyuck behind in front of the boys’ locker room.
You’re halfway across the field when Mark speaks up in a low voice.
“We can’t leave him there.”
“I know. I’m just trying to spook him.”
You both stop, turning to face Donghyuck, who’s still by the locker rooms. He’s clearly watching you, though, because the moment he sees you looking at him, he makes a run for it, his long legs carrying him across the grass at top speed. He’s huffing when he arrives, and he throws his arms around the both of you so he can minimize the space he takes up under the umbrella.
When you reach the parking lot, Donghyuck speaks up.
“So, was it just one round in there, or what?”
#mark smut#mark lee smut#nct smut#mark x you#mark x reader#mark scenarios#mark scenario#mark imagines#mark imagine#mark drabble#mark drabbles#nct scenarios#nct scenario#nct imagine#nct imagines#nct drabble#nct drabbles
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MISS YOU -
[ !fwb jhs pjm ksj jjk kth x reader ]
HOSEOK -
hobi: hi
y/n: ur texting me before 5pm should i be scared rn….
hobi: i miss you
y/n: oh i’m terrified
hobi: can’t a man simply miss his girl???
y/n: i’m shaking in my boots dni
and ur girl???
shut the hell up
hobi: i miss you
y/n: STOP
this is really weird
hobi: ok i’m never being nice again
y/n: 💜
hobi: i lied i’m just a nice guy at heart
i miss you my pretty little petal 💘
y/n: this is a new low for you hoseok
hobi: i told you about saying my name
i’m trying to be sweet to u rn
not horny
y/n: our relationship is literally built on being horny wtf are you talking about
hobi: do you miss me
say yes if yes and no if yes
y/n: ok that is real unfair
hobi: yes or no
no jungkook
y/n: speaking to you before 5pm truly feels illegal
hobi: i talk to you before 5pm
like all the time
don’t make me look bad rn
we literally work together
i talk to you all the time???????????
y/n: u sound like ur trying to convince urself you talk to me
hobi: I LITERALLY DO STOP LYING
y/n: ok yeah you do but you only message me to fuck after 5pm
hobi: i never said i wanted to fuck?????
y/n: so you don’t want to fuck??
hobi: ok yes
y/n: knew it
hobi: yeah whatever
BUT
i just thought i would try and be a sweet loving man for u
y/n: well don’t do it again
freaked me the hell out
hobi: u wanna be my girlfriend so bad i’m gonna throw up
y/n: ???????????
hobi: ok sorry
y/n: freak
hobi: miss ur pussy on my face
y/n: i’m literally blocking you
ur so gross
hobi: ok wtf
how do i win in this life
cant be sweet
cant be explicit
HOW DO I WIN
y/n: ask to fuck nicely
hobi: may i please indulge in the sexual intercourse with you at 1400 hours
y/n: and normally
hobi: can we fuck in like 20 minutes
in my studio preferably
pls and thanks 😝
y/n: sure
hobi: TURN UPPP
that was really easy
y/n: did you just call me easy?????????
hobi: NO??????
y/n: you definitely did
hobi: NONONONO
i’m just saying like normally i’d have to beg a little
ur kind of a sadist like that
anyways
you didn’t make me beg today
dare i say
dot dot dot
ur stating to fall in love with me wink
y/n: did you just type out dot dot dot and wink???
hobi: say yes if yes and no if yes
y/n: stop breathing
hobi: hard
and no not by shinee
this one is by hoseok
but WAIT
(no dino)
if we think about it is by you
hard by you
wink lol
y/n: ur so fucking lame it’s unreal
JIMIN -
jimin: miss you
wanna kiss you so bad
y/n: personally i wanna fuck
jimin: …
is it really that hard to act like you were loved as a child for even a little bit
y/n: all i’m hearing rn is you don’t want to fuck
ur LAME
jimin: do you not miss me back?
y/n: next question
jimin: do you miss me???
y/n: purple
pull ur dick out
jimin: i’m getting real upset
what if i cry rn
y/n: lowkey
jimin: stop talking
y/n: it WOULD be real hot
jimin: …
i’m trying to be cute and love on u rn
y/n: gross
love on ur girlfriend or something
jimin: ur my girlfriend
y/n: i’m ur girl friend you fuck sometimes
the big space was on purpose btw
if you didn’t get that
jimin: ok fuck????
i get it
so like do you fr not miss me back or what?
y/n: for someone who said they get it ur not acting like you get it
jimin: i get it
y/n: get a guitar
jimin: what
y/n: riize
jimin: rise?
y/n: talk saxy
jimin: tf are u talking about
y/n: ur so annoying
jimin: can you say you miss me back
y/n: no!
jimin: i’m gonna stop fucking you
y/n: ok
jimin: ok i lied but were you scared for a second
y/n: not really
jimin: ok idc
y/n: who is ur riize bais
mine is shotaro
he’s a real cuite
jimin: mine is i miss you jimin
y/n: i’m not saying i miss you
jimin: why not?
y/n: why?
jimin: because you miss me???
y/n: i saw you last week??
jimin: LAST WEEK
oh my chest hurts
the walls are caving in
y/n: are you done
jimin: should we just make it official
y/n: if ur this annoying and a fuck buddy i don’t even want to imagine what ur like as a boyfriend
jimin: better
y/n: i doubt that!
jimin: let’s find out challenge go!!!!
y/n: i do NOT consent
jimin: hello girlfriend do you miss me like i miss you????????
y/n: i’m gonna start fucking joon
jimin: say sike
that’s not funny at ALL
say sike rn
HELLO???????????????
SAY SIKE Y/N
IM SO FR SAY SIKE
SEOKJIN -
jin: miss you
y/n: ☠️☠️☠️☠️
just send that to jimin
he’s laughing at you
jin: wtf is ur problem
y/n: why are you messaging me during works hours??
jin: cuz i missed you???
yeah i said missed
not miss
cuz fuck you
you made me look weak in front of jimin
you bitch
y/n: what if i said i missed you too?
jin: ofc you miss me
that was a given
i was just letting you know the feeling was mutual
y/n: that’s crazy cuz i don’t miss you at all
jin: ????
are you proposing to me rn?
y/n: ?get a grip
jin: need you here rn
y/n: i’m trying to work
jin: ok?? idk what that has to do with anything
y/n: i’m working
jin: are we role playing??
y/n: no.
jin: omg i was just kidding lighten up a bit geez
pretty girl i miss you
no even joking
y/n: pic with tears or ur lying
jin: you make missing you not fun at all
y/n: is missing ur fuck buddy supposed to be fun??
jin: we’re still calling it that?
y/n: ??
jin: it’s fine
i’ll indulge you and ur games
y/n: LMAOOO ???
ur age is really showing
talking like a fucking vampire
jin: yeah yeah
what time do you finish
y/n: in exactly an hour
jin: i’ll pick you up
will bring the nice car and everything
y/n: all ur cars are nice
jin: i know
just wanted to hear you say it
y/n: eat the rich i say!
jin: i’ll let you eat me
let’s go bite for bite
y/n: jimin would have a field day with that
jin: i don’t want to talk about jimin while i’m seducing you thank you very much
y/n: ur seducing me??
jin: yeah
you couldn’t tell?
y/n: no?
jin: ur lying
y/n: maybe i am
jin: that’s what i thought
y/n: maybe i’m not
jin: you are
y/n: but what if i’m not
jin: no you are
y/n: am i?
jin: shut up
it’s like nice when you just don’t talk
and stop pretending you hate me
y/n: hate is a strong word
jin: so you love me?
y/n: love is a strong word
jin: fuck you
y/n: YOU WISH
jin: not true
y/n: IS THAT YOU OUTSIDE??????
WAVE IF THATS YOU
OH MYGOD YOU WAVED
THATS YOU
UR OUTSIDE
jin: i’m outside
y/n: ??????? HOW
jin: god knows
y/n: i said an hour
jin: an hour is too long dont you think :/
y/n: UGH
men
YOU MAKE ME SICK
give me 5
JUNGKOOK -
jk: come see me
y/n: ??LMAOOSODOFIDIFJFNDJJDJDJDJ SJDJDJDNDNDNDNNDNFNFNFNFNFNNDNDNFNFNFNFNFNFNFNNFNFNFNFNNFCJ
jk: ok i’m sorry i though you would find that really sexy and cool
y/n: that was really funny
imagined you saying that in real life LMSKDKKDF
THATS SO FUNNT WLMSKDODOFIFJFJFJFJFN
wow ur really silly
jk: i miss you
like so much
y/n: do you miss ME or do you miss fucking me
jk: is this a trick question?
y/n: not at all
jk: both?
y/n: are you sure
cuz you don’t sound sure
jk: it’s a trick question
y/n: i’m telling you it’s not
jk: if i say i miss fucking you ur gonna think i’m just using you for sex and that i’m horrible person that should die
but if i say i miss you ur gonna think i’m a stupid idiot loser who can’t control his feelings and should kill himself
y/n: is this u projecting rn??
jk: can i come over please
y/n: answer my question first
jk: i did !!!! i said both
y/n: you said
“both?”
jk: ok now i’m saying both!!!!
y/n: your just saying cuz you want to come over
so you miss fucking me
i see
jk: NO
well yes
bUT LIKE NOT JUST THAT I MISS YOu
LIKE YOU
as A PERSON
your smile
your voice
your like overall presence???
y/n: why is everything a question with you
stand on business kook
jk: you make me second guess everything
IM SO NERVOUS LEAVE ME ALONE
y/n: okay let’s not shout now
jk: ok i’m sorry
i’m really sorry
hey i’m sorry
y/n: guys i think he’s sorry
jk: guys??? who is there? don’t tell me it’s yoongi he’ll bully me
y/n: you want come over?
jk: so bad
y/n: ok
but you have to pay me in like
JUNGKOOK WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST SENT ME 50K???/!/£:’dn
jk: you said pay
y/n: I DIDN’T FINISH MY SENTENCE??????
jk: oh
my fault
i’m sorry
i’m really sorry
you can keep it
for rainy day or something?????
carry on what were you saying??
i didn’t mean to interrupt
y/n wow ok um i was just gonna say tteokbokki or something
jk: with cheese right?
you like it with cheese yeah?
i’ll come over and make it for you i’ll head to the store rn
anything else???
y/n: ummm no
jk: ok i can start making my way right?
y/n: yeah…
jk: cool ok see you soon
y/n: cool
cool wow yeah cool
that’s cool
wtf just happened
TAEHYUNG -
14 miss calls from tae
tae: throbbing rn
y/n: it’s 3 am what the fuck is wrong with you
and throbbing?????????
you
nvm
i don’t even want to finish my sentence
jump of a bridge cut ur dick off idc leave me alone
tae: i miss you
y/n: no shit
tae: told my parents were engaged
y/n: convinced all you do all day is pop percs and take punches to the head
tae: you can give me head
i miss ur head
and you ig
but like ur head 😍
meow
y/n: meow???
tae: MEOWWWWWWWW
y/n: what do you want??
it’s 3 am
tae: head???
like
are you stupid
wasn’t i clear enough
ACTUALLY NO WAIT
i miss you🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
what did nct say that one time
girl your my favourite 😋😍💗
y/n: i should call mark
tae: OMG YEAH
you think he’ll sing a bit for us
GIRL UR MY FAVOURITEEEEE
wait no???????
wtf
don’t call mark
are you sick
are you out of ur mind
i just called you my favourite and now ur calling mark?????
y/n: puka puka pow pow 💚
tae: ok but i said i miss you
y/n: k
tae: me missing you
like that’s what’s happening rn
ME missing YOU
do you understand
y/n: yess thank you ur so kind !🌷💞💘
tae: ??????
say it back maybe
y/n: no thanks!
tae: okay lol
the more you deny my love
y/n: yuck
tae: ok never interrupt me again
or we WILL have issues
y/n: are you talking to me rn…
tae: NO LMAO WHAAAATTT i must of forgot where i was for a second why would i ever threaten my beautiful amazing queen
y/n: ok not too much
tae: love you!
y/n: ur making me sick gonna throw up
tae: i’ll catch it
with my hands
y/n: stop
tae: eat it if you want me too
y/n: you lack serious amounts of self respect and it’s extremely worrying
tae: will you give me head
y/n: only if you never speak ever again
tae: ohmygod literally call me ariel babe like you give me head and my voice box will literally melt out my body
NO WORDS
ever again NO JOKE
y/n: the way you lie so easily is kinda scary
tae: i’m not lying
okay I AM lying but like how am i supposed to call you at 3 am and beg you to come over if i can’t speak
y/n: that’s the point!
tae: ummmmm
that’s mean
like you would so miss my voice if i didn’t have one
y/n: if you didn’t have a voice how could i miss it if you never had one???
tae: what
y/n: like ur saying if you NEVER had i voice i would miss it
but i can’t miss it if i’ve never heard it before
tae: that logic is stupid cuz ur saying you can’t miss things you’ve never had
y/n: you can’t
tae: i miss our wedding night
y/n: shut up
tae: throbbing
you make me throb
THROBBING ❤️
y/n: shut up shut up shut UP
tae: totally random pov ur boyfriend calls you 700 times and messages you at 3 am telling you he’s throbbing and is offering himself to you on a silver plater fuck the the knife and fork he wants it messy
what you doing in that situation??
y/n: sending a swat team to his address
tae: i’m your boyfriend???
y/n: ?
tae: YOU BASICALLY SAID IM YOUR BOYFRIEND
THIS IS A WIN
THIS IS A WIN
OH MY GOD A WIN
WIN WIN WIN WIN WIN
I WIN
OHMYGOD I WIN
i win
ohmYGODDDD
i would like to thank yeontan and my parents and hybe and son heung min for this win
i owe it all to you guys
i promise to keep working hard
and never let any of you down i’m just so extremely grateful
and i just wanna add that
SMS ERROR: The phone number you are trying to reach is no longer in service!
tae: gf so crazy like 🤭
—
yessss this was half a draft for the first fwb work i did so if you see any similarities that’s why but this is also half a request cuz somone asked me to make a fwb piece about them missing you but i lost the little ask thingy i’m so sorry don’t shoot me ALSO obviously all the members aren’t here cuz this was a scrap but then i was like omg this is too silly to throw away so i posted here hope you like >.<
tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @sopebubbles-replies @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin
#bts crack#bts fanfic#bts fluff#bts imagines#bts fic#bts text#bts × reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#namjoon × reader#jin × reader#yoongi > reader#hoseok × reader#jimin × reader#taehyung × reader#jungkook × reader#bts texts#rm × reader#suga x reader#v × reader#hope × reader#hobi x reader#bts fake chats#bts incorrect texts
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we were never just friends
ellie williams x reader
part three (part one, part two, part four)
summary: modern!ellie, both in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years, their friendship has always been somewhat flirty but nothing has ever happened. not yet anyway…
warnings: angst, ellie’s pov for a bit, loser ellie but also cocky ellie, gay pining, reader being chaotic, mdni
author’s note: i feel so evil for this. thank you sm to everyone who’s read/liked/commented/reblogged, it really makes my day considering this is my first fic, love you all <3<3
word count: 4k approx
“what the fuck have we done?”
“i’m pretty sure we just fucked,” ellie whispered, a smile evident in her voice.
you stared up at the ceiling, in disbelief at what just happened. it felt as though it all happened so quickly yet time seemed to have stopped. the dim, dark blue of the room and the midnight hour made it feel like you could spend an eternity here before returning to the real world.
“what are you thinking about?” ellie broke you out of your trance.
“i was just thinking…” your voice trailed off. what exactly were you thinking?
half of you felt a euphoria you’d never experienced in your life. this breaking of the threshold of your friendship with ellie dripped with temptation and you had to use every ounce of willpower to not reach out and grab it again.
however, the other half of you felt an uneasy sense of dread. you’d just fucked your best friend in a bed that was meant for you and your girlfriend that weekend. not only were you going to have to figure out what to tell kate, you were worried what this might do to your friendship with ellie.
you’d always been close and when friends get close, harmless flirting can sometimes follow. you could admit to yourself that at times you had felt jealous of the girls ellie dated and that she occasionally flustered you, but you never thought that meant anything. or rather, you’d never allowed yourself to think it meant something.
ellie meant the world to you and the idea of losing her made your chest ache. you had been in happy, loving relationships before which had come to a bitter end and you supposed, subconsciously, you had thought that if you couldn’t handle those relationships ending, how on earth could you cope if ellie left your life. staying friends had always been the safest option.
“i was just thinking about how i don’t want this to make things weird between us,” you confessed.
ellie immediately shifted to lie on her side, facing you.
“hey, it won’t,” she touched your cheek and you moved to your side to face her, hands tucked under your pillow.
“you’d have to try pretty fucking hard to get rid of me.”
you laughed, thankful for her encouragement. but the next thing she said made your heart drop.
“i don’t know what i’d do without you anyway.”
you looked at her, longingly, unsure of what the right thing to say here was.
you stroked a hand down her arm that was resting between you until you reached her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“i’m not going anywhere, i just have to figure out what i’m supposed to do.”
if it weren’t for the darkness you would have seen the sadness that took over her face.
“i know,” she said faintly.
you remained like that for a moment, sleep almost consuming you until she pulled her hand away and sat up.
“i should probably go back to my room, you know, incase they catch us in here together.”
she searched around for her clothes, muttering a “fuck” as she bumped into the dresser.
“do you want me to turn the light on?”
“no, no, it’s fine. i got it.”
she clumsily pulled her shorts and t-shirt on and paused at the door.
“night.”
“night, ellie.” and with that she left.
you ran your hands over your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. don’t even think about it, just go to sleep, you thought. you tossed and turned for a while, but eventually you drifted off.
˚ · • . ° .
when you awoke in the morning, you could barely remember where you were. that was until you caught sight of your underwear on the floor.
you dragged yourself out of bed and threw some pyjamas on so you could go and use the bathroom. after showering you went back to your room and got changed before heading downstairs. the creek the last step made caused everyone’s heads to turn in your direction.
“hey, you’re up!” dina beamed. you noticed she was putting together some breakfast.
your eyes immediately latched onto ellie’s who was sat at the kitchen table. you shuffled over and took a seat opposite her.
“smells amazing, deen,” you mused.
“thanks, there’s loads here so don’t be shy,” she said as she put the food on the table. a stack of four plates already there for you to take.
as you ate, you talked about what you might do that day. aside from you and ellie sneaking glances at each other from across the table, everything seemed normal.
freya had told you about a farmer’s market that was close by which sounded fun so you agreed that’s what you’d do that morning.
in the car on the way, you were sat next to ellie in the back. her knees were spread so one kept bumping into yours with every jolt of the car. you didn’t talk very much, content with just listening to dina and freya mostly, as well as the music that played. you felt sick every time you thought about what the hell you were supposed to do now. you knew you were going to tell kate but you didn’t know how and you didn’t know when. tomorrow you’d get back from this trip and then there were only a couple of days before you were leaving for california. looking out the window and biting your nails you wished you could just stay in this car and drive forever, far away from the mess you’d made.
“you okay?” ellie’s quiet voice snapped you out of it.
“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” you gave her a weak smile. you wished you could tell what she was thinking. to be able to tell what that look in her eye meant.
suddenly, you felt the car stop and freya announced that you were there. you all clambered out, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder, and headed towards the market stalls.
it was quaint and lively as you wandered around. you casually browsed everything from the fruit and veg stalls to the jewellery and art stalls.
“hey, you could sell your art, you know?” you said to ellie, gesturing towards a stall where a woman was selling watercolour and charcoal drawings.
“i don’t think i’m that good.”
you both slowly strolled on, dina and freya somewhere up ahead.
“yes you are, i love your art.”
she gave you a quick smile before shaking her head.
“i’m fine just doing it for me.”
you lightly nodded, looking at her face as she looked ahead. there was a hint of dejection in her expression and she was dragging her feet more than normal. without really thinking, you grabbed her hand and pulled her to the side, away from the flow of people. she stood in front of you, eyes scanning your face waiting for you to explain.
“we need to talk about this,” you rushed out.
she hung her head and lightly kicked a rock on the ground.
“yeah, we probably do.”
“i’m really sorry, i shouldn’t have done it and i–“
“will you stop apologising?”
her eye contact was more intense than it had been before and she sounded serious as she cut you off.
“sorry,” you mumbled out and she let out a laugh before composing herself.
“are you gonna tell her?”
“i have to. i mean, i’d want her to tell me if she…”
ellie just nodded, looking down at her feet.
“can i ask you something?” she said.
“of course.”
“do you hope she’ll forgive you?”
her question caught you off guard. yes, seemed like the right answer so yes, you hoped she did. but a tiny part of you was here, looking at ellie’s face, not caring whether kate did or didn’t. the anticipation in ellie’s voice also made you wonder why she’d asked you that.
“why do you ask?” your voice came out small.
“because,” she sighed, “never mind.”
“ellie…”
“no, it’s,” she waved her hand in dismissal, “it’s none of my business.”
your heart pulled. you wanted to know what she was going to say so badly but didn’t want to push. she gestured towards the stalls.
“let’s go find them.”
˚ · • . ° .
— ellie’s pov —
“ok,” your voice was quiet and deflated and it made ellie feel terrible.
she was so torn about what to do. what could she do except wait on the sidelines? she so desperately wanted to know when you were going to tell kate and selfishly, she wanted to know if you and kate would stay together.
last night was something she’d dreamed of happening for as long as she could remember. she felt dazed just thinking about it. the way your lips felt against hers. the way you whimpered when she touched you. the way you made her feel so good.
something amazing had finally happened between you both. the only problem was it had happened under the worst fucking circumstances. she could kick herself for not doing something about her feelings sooner, when you were single, and everything could have been good.
she hated herself for the way she lost her mind around you. normally, she was pretty confident with women, but with you, it’s like every time she saw you her biggest fear became you finding out that she liked you because what if you didn’t feel the same. what if you rejected her and it ripped the fabric of your friendship forever. but, you had kissed her back. you had wanted her. she just now needed to know how much. soon enough you both found dina and freya over by a fruit and vegetable stall.
“there you guys are,” dina said before looking at ellie, her smile dropping slightly. fuck, ellie thought, she knows somethings wrong.
the four of you continued walking around, you’d bought some food to have back at the cabin and when it was midday you decided to go back. the entire car ride ellie’s brain was just spinning in circles about what could happen next. she couldn’t decide if she wanted this trip to be over now so she could find out or if she wanted to savour every second she had left here, away from reality.
as soon as dina noticed you and freya distracted by putting the shopping away, she grabbed ellie’s arm and pulled her into a different room.
“is everything ok?”
“yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“come on, ellie, don’t give me that. what’s going on?”
ellie looked down at her hands and played with her rings.
“it’s nothing, really.”
“did something happen?” dina’s voice was hesitant, “with you guys?”
ellie’s head snapped up to look at her.
“no, why would you say that?” her voice came out defensive and dina closed her eyes for a second, pondering what to say.
“i’m not stupid, you know. i see the way you look at her. the way you’ve always looked at her.”
ellie couldn’t deny it anymore.
“shit,” she ran a hand through her hair, “i know, it’s bad isn’t it?”
“well, it’s not bad to have feelings for her. it’s just difficult as she’s with someone.”
“yeah,” ellie let out a small, sarcastic laugh.
“so, what are you gonna do?”
“nothing. absolutely nothing.”
dina looked at ellie and felt sad. she pulled her in for a hug and rubbed her back comfortingly.
“it’ll be ok. talk to me if you need to, i know what you’re like.”
ellie laughed but appreciated dina’s encouragement.
“can’t say i can make any promises.”
˚ · • . ° .
— your pov —
the four of you spent the rest of the day cooking, swimming, and playing board games. things between you and ellie seemed relatively normal, she had perked up a bit since this morning which you were glad about. then your phone buzzed.
kate 🩵
10:34pm
hope you’re having a good time. i’m visiting my parent’s atm so won’t see you until wednesday morning, can’t wait to go away with you xx
your stomach dropped. fuck. wednesday was the day you were traveling to california. kate’s parents lived miles away, you couldn’t just go and see her now. how the fuck were you supposed to tell her before you went away? you thought you could call but you wanted to tell her in person so you could talk properly. you wrote back an unsure reply.
you
10:37pm
okay, see you then. me too xx
you put your phone back in your pocket, not wanting to look at it again. everyone was getting tired so when dina and freya said they were going to bed, you quickly jumped up saying you were too. before you followed them upstairs, you turned to ellie.
“are we ok?”
she gave you a reassuring smile.
“yeah, we’re ok.”
you hugged for a moment, giving her a small squeeze before you pulled away and both went to bed.
˚ · • . ° .
“how fucking could you?”
“ellie, please. i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry.”
“i don’t care if you’re sorry, you fucked up. you’re a horrible person. you were a horrible friend and i never want to see you agai–“
your body jolted awake.
you had the worst nightmare and it took your eyes a minute to adjust to the room that was still dark. your eyes squinted as you looked at your bright phone screen. 2:17am. groaning, you swung yourself out of bed and made your way downstairs to get a glass of water.
“shit,” you jumped upon seeing a figure already leaning against the counter by the window. the only light in the room came from a tiny lamp.
“ellie, you scared me.”
“sorry.”
you went and leaned against the counter opposite her. she was wearing baggy sweatpants that hung low on her waist and a white tank top.
“can i have some of that?” you pointed at her joint.
“sure,” she said, passing it to you, “can’t sleep?”
you took a drag before shaking your head, “no, you?”
“no.”
it was silent as you passed the joint back and forth a couple times.
“this is pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” she half-heartedly laughed, bringing it to her lips, looking at you.
you laughed with her, folding your arms over your chest.
“it is pretty fucked.”
her eyes lazily trailed over your body making your cheeks heat up and you shifted from one foot to the other.
“this isn’t how i expected the weekend would go,” you tried to lighten the tension but it was useless.
“me neither,” ellie said mindlessly, stepping forward and pulling the spaghetti strap of your top back up onto you shoulder after it had slipped down. her fingers touching your bare skin made you shiver.
“what are you doing?” you warned.
“you can tell me to stop.”
she gently grabbed your arms and uncrossed them from your body before sliding a hand down to your waist.
“do you want me to stop?” she taunted, putting her other arm behind her to stub the joint out on the sink, her eyes never leaving yours.
“i–no?” your voice was a mere quivered whisper.
she smirked and her eye lids went heavy as she slowly placed a light kiss on your lips. her face was still close to yours when she pulled away but she wanted you to do something.
your hands were gripping the counter you were pressed against. her hand spread itself wide on your waist whilst the other leant on the counter behind you.
“this is such a bad idea,” you muttered before kissing her again. your hands moved to hold her face and you moaned a little into it, truly feeling erratic but it was all too tempting. her hips pressed into yours and pathetically you clenched around nothing, itching to have her hands on you in you again.
“fuck fuck, stop,” you whined, not wanting her to but you had to. she stopped kissing you but you still held each other close.
“ellie,” your voice cracked, “i can’t. i want to but i can’t.”
she leaned her forehead on yours and rubbed her thumb on your waist.
“okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper. your hands squeezed her shoulders before letting go and she slid her hand away from your waist.
you went back to bed wanting to punch yourself. how was this happening. you still couldn’t sleep, a million thoughts barrelling through your mind.
you had never fully addressed your feelings for ellie out of fear of getting hurt. well isn’t that fucking ironic, you thought. not only were you hurt anyway but you were hurting other people. you knew you were being a coward. if you could bring yourself to just ask ellie outright how she felt about you then maybe this would be easier. if you could have done all of this six months ago it would be easier. but you didn’t and now there was a heavy weight of anxiety drilling into you every time you thought about the consequences.
˚ · • . ° .
the next morning, you felt like a ghost. you were so unbearably tired after getting no sleep last night. you patted your cheeks trying to knock some life into you so you could get up and get ready. stumbling down the stairs you noticed only dina and freya were there.
“where’s ellie?”
“still asleep i think,” dina said. she looked at you with soft eyes as if she was trying to work something out. you ignored it, praying she hadn’t got a clue about what had been going on. it was nearly 11am and the plan was to have brunch at the cabin before heading home. you helped dina and freya get the food sorted and arranged on the table when ellie came downstairs, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
“morning sleepy,” dina cooed.
“morning,” ellie said sitting down next to you, but she didn’t look at you.
you were pretty much ready to go after you ate and cleaned up seeing as you didn’t really unpack. you loaded up the car with your stuff before heading off, dina taking charge of the music in the front.
“did you guys have a good time?” freya directed her question at you and ellie, catching your eye in the rear view mirror. at the same time you and ellie shot out, “yeah loved it,” and “yeah it was great.”
“thanks so much for inviting us,” you added.
“anytime.”
you and ellie ended up falling asleep on the drive home, not waking up until the car stopped. your eyes fluttered open and you realised your head had been leaning on her shoulder and hers on your head. slightly confused, you both sleepily looked at each other before realising that freya was parked outside ellie’s place.
“oh fuck, sorry,” she said. dina and freya giggled, giving each other a knowing look.
“it’s alright.”
ellie got out the car and grabbed her bag before bending down to see through the open window.
“thanks freya, see you later guys.”
she caught your eye for a split second before going inside. you slouched in your seat whilst freya started the car again, heading to your place to drop you off.
˚ · • . ° .
you’d mostly been working the last couple of days since the cabin weekend which was good because it took your mind off everything by about 2%.
you hadn’t seen anyone either which was just as well because your nerves were through the fucking roof. you had wanted to tell kate before you went away as you assumed you wouldn’t be going anymore after she found out. if only she hadn’t been away at her parents prior, because it was now wednesday, and kate was on her way over.
she burst through the door after you buzzed her into the building, immediately rambling about everything you had to do. she started listing off everything to make sure you’d got it and you kept trying to interject.
“you’ve got your passport? your kindle? your–“
“kate, i need to tell–“
“–your phone charger–“
“please, can we just slow down a minute?”
“we don’t have time, we need to leave in like 30 seconds,” she said rummaging through her bag, checking everything again.
“i know but i need to talk to you.”
“babe,” she stopped to look at you, “we’ve got all the time in the world to talk, when we get there.”
you wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with but something was stopping you. the words were getting stuck in your throat like you were trying to scream on command. you really wanted to tell her before california but stupidly, you found yourself boarding that goddamn plane.
kate had read her book the entire flight there so you read yours too. you were sat in a taxi on the way to the hotel when you remembered to turn your phone back on. a text had come through just a few minutes after you had boarded.
ellie 👽
12:38pm
have a safe flight x
your leg bounced as your thumbs hovered over your phone.
you
4:56pm
thank you x
you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. you wanted that stupid spaceship you and ellie had joked about to come crashing down on top of you. the taxi driver started pulling up at your hotel and helped you get your luggage out. you thanked him and went through to check-in.
kate started talking to the receptionist as you smiled at her then looked around the lobby. jesus, it was fancy, you thought. when you got to your room you let out a deep breath, dumping your things down and falling backwards on the bed, hands running over your face in post-travel exhaustion.
you felt the bed dip and a hand peel yours away until you saw kate above you. you dropped your hand on the bed and hers placed itself on your waist as she leant down to kiss you. you kind of hesitated to kiss her back but she didn’t seem to notice as she started leaving kisses along your jaw and down your neck.
“what time did we book dinner?” you asked. she kept kissing.
“kate?”
she hummed against your skin.
“what time did we book dinner?”
she stopped and looked at you.
“uumm, 7 i think? why?”
“just couldn’t remember.”
she started to push her hand up under your top before you suddenly grabbed it.
“i’m not– i’m sorry, i wanna go have a shower. wash the plane off me,” you said, starting to sit up making her move off of you. she didn’t say anything just let you go and lock yourself in the bathroom. you leant on the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror.
“you are such a bitch,” you mouthed to your reflection before sighing and stripping to get in the shower.
your evening consisted of going to dinner and drinking far too many cocktails which made you crash instantly when you got back to the hotel.
the next day, you got up leisurely. you removed your smudged makeup from the night before, chugged a pint of water and got yourself ready for a day of lounging on the beach.
“so how was your weekend?” kate asked from where she sat beside you.
“it was,” your voice cracked so you coughed to clear it, “it was good thanks, freya’s cabin is beautiful. how was your time at your parents?”
“great, haven’t seen them for a while so was good to spend some time up there.”
“aw good, i’m glad.”
the silence that followed was probably a comfortable one for kate as she started to get her book out of her bag again but it was a soul-crushing one for you. you got your book out too and pretended to read whilst you went over everything again in your mind.
your day at the beach was filled with lots of reading, swimming, eating, and spiralling. it was about 5pm when you got back to the hotel room. your body felt like it was about to enter fight or flight.
“is everything alright?” kate asked, noticing your fidgeting.
“um, yeah,” you tried to sound upbeat.
“it’s just i feel like you’ve been acting weird ever since we got here. in fact, you were acting strange before we left your apartment.”
you sighed. your timing honestly couldn’t be worse if you tried but it was now or never, you thought. you couldn’t avoid it anymore, you just had to rip it off like a bandaid.
“i was trying to tell you that i need to tell you something.”
“ok?”
you hung your head and squeezed your eyes shut.
“i slept with ellie.”
˚ · • . ° .
tag list: @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @robinismywifee @gold-dustwomxn @rolly-pollie @sapphicproblem @harrysslutsstuff
an: this was probably the hardest part so far to write because i had no idea how to get the reader to tell kate. i know they’re SO MESSY BUT THATS RHE POINT
#spaceshipellie fics#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie x reader#ellie smut#ellie tlou#the last of us#tlou 2#ellie williams x female reader#best friends to lovers#ellie williams angst#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams fic#ellie williams fanfic
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Shiny New Toy (2)
Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader
Summary: With one orgasm down, Dean is starting to have a little bit more fun with you
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (4x), Smut (Oral Sex, Fingering), Degradation
Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 2 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | Things are starting to heat up now ;) | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
“You know what I really want to do my little virgin?” Dean asked. You weren’t sure if he had wanted you to answer or not, so you opted to stay quiet. Although you couldn’t see him at the moment because he was behind you, you could sense the eye roll. “That’s your cue to answer doll.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Your sorry’s came out quick, sounding slightly afraid. “Um, what do you want to do to me?” You asked. The question was innocent enough, but you knew his answer was going to be far from that.
In that moment, both of his hands smacked hard against your shoulders, and you let out a small yelp, not expecting the contact. A small chuckle escaped his lips. He leaned down a bit, just enough to press his lips to your ear. “I want to see how that innocent little mouth of yours feels around my cock.” Fuck. You thought to yourself. “Never sucked dick before right? I’d be your first?” You nodded. “Hmmm. I didn’t quite catch that. What did you say?”
You let out a defeating sounding sigh. “No.” You replied weakly.
“No what?” He asked. You couldn’t believe he was actually trying to make you say it. And you knew why, you had never talked about things like this before, well, not with Sam or Dean anyway. You didn’t mind talking about sex, but you didn’t really know what to talk about when it came to the subject because you lacked experience. Hell, you’ve only seen porn once, and that was completely on accident. You really were a virgin in all senses of the word, even when it came to watching porn.
“No, I’ve never sucked cock Dean.” You said. You almost felt yourself shudder at the words, almost disgusted with yourself that you had uttered them. But at the same time, there was a small part of you that had actually liked saying it.
“That’s what I thought.” He nodded, confirming. He came to the side of you, removing his hands from your shoulders. “The amount of times I’ve pictured you sucking my cock, doll…” his hand gripped your jaw tightly, making you look him in the eyes, “God. More times than I can count.” His eyes flashed black quickly, before turning the normal green that you had loved. “Sometimes when you were talking, I would be too damn distracted because I couldn’t help but just stare at this cute mouth of yours. Picturing myself disappearing between those lips.” He smirked, his words were more casual than you had expected. You knew Dean had no issues talking about sex, but this was probably one of the first times since you’ve known him that he’s gotten explicit with it while you’ve been in the room.
“Dean.” You said.
“That’s my name.” He responded. “What’s up baby?” He removed his hand from your jaw and found himself walking back over to the table.
“I’m…I’m nervous.” You weren’t sure if you should have shared that information with Dean or not.
A smirk formed on his lips. “Sweetheart…” he walked back over to you, finding himself behind you again. “I’ll tell you what.” He began. “You being nervous, I really couldn’t give a rats ass. This, this whole thing? It ain’t about you.” His voice was so cold, not the usual warmness it usually radiated. “Y/N.” You hated the way he said your name now. “Nervous or not, I’m taking what I want. And what I want, is for you to suck my dick, getting it nice and ready for yourself when I not only fuck that cunt of yours, but that ass too.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your cunt and ass are nice and prepped for me cause, I’m not average by any means.” He leaned down whispering in your ear again. “I know you’ve seen it.”
About a year ago (the one time that you had accidentally watched porn) was the same day that you had first seen Dean’s dick. When you went to his room you had knocked, but when he didn’t answer you opened the door and had found him lying on the bed with his hand wrapped around his dick jacking off to some random porno on the TV. It was a sight that you had never actually wanted to see, but it was something that you hadn’t been able to get out of your mind since then. If you were being honest with yourself, you did (from that time on) start masturbating to that scene.
“Alright, so here’s what’s gonna happen.” He began, snapping you out of your thoughts. “As much as I love having you chained up, I’m gonna unchain you. This way, we can have a lot more fun.” He said. “But, here’s the catch. If you try and run out of here, try and do anything that isn’t being my little slut right now, you get chained right back on the table and I get to use these fun little toys here on the table. Got it?” You nodded. “Good.”
You were now unchained from the table, but you hadn’t moved away from it, afraid to actually get off despite you being chained to this for an unknown period of time. The room was so industrial looking, not the kind of place you’d have wanted to have sex for the first time, let alone have sex at all. You rubbed your wrists for a minute, watching Dean. His eyes were fixated on you, watching your every move, making sure you didn’t seem like you were going to run. Even if you did manage to run, where would you go? You were in Hell. And in Hell in just a bra no less, who knows who could find you. At least you knew Dean, despite him not fully being himself.
Dean approached the table, and placed his hands on either side of you, your knees were against your chest, and you simply stared up at him, staring at this evil grin that seemed painted to his face. “No need to hide Angel.” He said, slowly spreading your legs away from your chest. They moved without any kind of fight. He looked at your chest then and started playing with the straps of your bra. “This gotta go. Don’t you think?” He asked, but not really asking you. Grabbing the knife nearest to him he cut the straps off. “Take it off.” He demanded. Without hesitation you did what he asked if you and removed the bra, tossing it to the side.
As soon as you removed the bra he placed the knife back down and started cupping your breasts, playing with your nipples that had started to become hardened from his touch. “God you’re perfect.” He mumbled. “Come here.” He demanded. He didn’t even give you a second to respond or react, he grabbed you and pulled you closer to him so he was fully between your legs, your hands pressing against his chest. You looked up at his face, swearing his eyes flashed that harsh black color. “Don’t move.” He stated.
“Okay.” You said simply, your legs hanging off the edge of the table. Dean lowered himself, starting out slow as he started kissing along your jaw, down your neck, and stopping at your collarbone. He started sucking then, and you felt your breath hitch, feeling a slight wetness again. At your hitch, Dean took two of his fingers and started slowly rubbing your clit.
“So wet already.” He commented before going even lower and started sucking on your hardened nipples. “Your collarbone is gonna have some nice marks on them.” He hummed. As he sucked your nipples, his fingers started to slowly press themselves into you, a small moan escaped your lips. “That’s it Sweetheart.” He praised as he started pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you.
All you wanted to do was grab onto him, almost pull him closer to you, but you didn’t want to disobey his order of not moving. But it was getting so difficult. You felt yourself break, and found your hand touching the back of his head, almost gripping him. At first, you thought the simple act was going to be something of a problem, because technically you disobeyed, but it wasn’t. It almost seemed like you had encouraged him.
Hips lips and mouth made its way to your cunt, which was currently being aggressively pumped in and out of by his fingers. As he pumped his fingers, he added his tongue and mouth into the mix, pushing his tongue ever so slowly into your pussy when his fingers weren’t there, almost alternating. “Fuckkkk.” You shut your eyes, feeling a smirk on his lips.
You let out a moan, and looked down at the demon between your legs. It was a weird sight, his tongue and fingers slowly appearing and disappearing from you. The look on his face seemed almost ravenous, like he hadn’t eaten in days. He felt you watching him, and the thought of you watching him practically destroying you with just his mouth and fingers had started to make himself harder than he was before; he was having a hard time containing himself.
He made eye contact with you, and you found yourself looking away, as your chest started moving up and down. “No, no.” He said, removing his mouth and tongue. “Want you to keep watching.” He said, and you nodded, finding yourself complying with his request.
His movements again started to get more erratic and you couldn’t but release a string of profanities that you didn’t think was even possible to come out of you in that moment as you found yourself starting to come. “That’s it.” Was all he said, continuing to ride out your orgasm.
His mouth and fingers were covered in your cum, and there was a part of you that was almost embarrassed, but at the same time you were also a little bit turned on seeing him that way. “Here.” He said, standing up and bringing his fingers to your lips. “Want you to taste how sweet you are.” Dean stick his fingers into your mouth and without any kind of prompting, you started sucking on his fingers. “You’re learning.” He grinned.
“Alright Sweetheart, are you ready to suck your first cock?” He asked, but you knew he wasn’t really asking. Sheepishly you nodded. “Good, because I wasn’t really asking.” He unzipped his jeans and pulled his pants down along with his boxers; your eyes weirdly fixated on it. “Missed seeing it?” He grinned. “Get off the table and kneel down on the ground.”
You were frozen for a moment, almost not computing what he had said. “I said,” he began, taking your arm and yanking you off the table. “Kneel.” His eyes went black, and you felt your heart almost stop. His eyes turning back to your favorite shade of green.
You knelt down in front of him, your hands resting on your thighs. His finger tilting your chin up. “I know this ain’t about you doll but, the more you cooperate, the more pleasurable this whole experience can be for you okay?” His voice seemed a little bit more calm than it had been. “I need an okay from you Sweetheart.”
“Yes Sir.” The words just slipped out; all you had wanted to say was ‘Yes Dean.’ The smirk on his face grew.
“Yes Sir? Knew there was a kinky little thing underneath.” He removed his hand from your chin and held his dick in hand for a moment. “Alright, let’s see how much I can fit in that mouth of yours.”
The position you were in was embarrassing, humiliating. You were completely naked on your knees sucking the dick of your – well what used to be – one of your most trusted friends, someone that you knew you could rely on, someone you knew that would never take advantage of you.
You assumed that you were doing a good job, because as you looked up underneath your eyelashes Dean’s eyes were closed, and he was making a face that seemed to be of absolute pleasure. “You’re such a natural Sweetheart.” He mumbled, grabbing the back of your head so he could get a firm grip on your hair. “Should have had you on your knees years ago.” He praised.
You ran your tongue along the shaft slowly, keeping one of your hands above your lips as your mouth and hand moved in tantum with each other. Semi-loud grunts had fell from Dean’s lips, and you had felt a small knot in the bit of your stomach, along with the wetness between your legs starting to form again. You had heard from some of your friends that have done this numerous of times before that sucking dick was one of their favorite things to do, that the very act was something that could actually make them cum. You had thought that thought was silly, that there was no way something like that could happen, but the more you sucked Dean, the more you knew that you were about to eat your words.
“Little faster Sweetheart. Gonna cum.” His voice was breathy, and you instantly went deer in headlights. He took his hand, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Wanna watch your face as I cum down that pretty little throat of yours.” His evil grin was back, and you felt yourself shake your head a little, trying to convey ‘no.’ His face looked at you, confused. “No?” You nodded. “Too fucking bad.” His eyes went black just then, and it was too late, his hot cum started spilling in your mouth and down your throat – you felt like you were about to throw up.
Removing your mouth from his cock after he was finished coming, you had wanted to throw up; hating the salty taste that was in your mouth and now filled up your stomach. You started coughing a bit, Dean simply just laughed watching you. “You’re so cute.” He said, almost in a mocking tone. You looked at him, still naked and on your hands and knees, trying to stop yourself from not throwing up. You couldn’t imagine what you had looked like right now, but you thought you probably looked nowhere near cute.
Dean walked over to you, quickly yanking you up by your arm. As you stood up, the front of your body crashed against his chest; his hands had a firm grip on your arms, while your own arms were slightly crushed against your chest and his. If he wasn’t a demon, you would have loved the closeness you had to him right now; this was the type of closeness that you had always craved from Dean. You had loved when he would pull you close into a hug after a long hunt, or cuddle you at night when you had a bad nightmare. “Ready for me to fill you up Sweetheart?”
Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee
If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#spn#supernatural#spn imagine#supernatural imagine#spn one shot#supernatural one shot#reader insert#female reader#dean x you#dean x reader
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𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐁*𝐓𝐂𝐇 ; 𝐆𝐔𝐍-𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐗 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕. 𝐍𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 '𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑.
summary: sometimes it's hard to deal with how fast the night changes... and how memories are used and coming back again and again.
wordcount: 5.096k (i got carried away, but it felt right to write this much uwu)
tw: swearing, angst (bad memories), crying, anxiety (attack?), badly written anxiety rambling, blood, otherwise than that it's fluff and comfort
author's note: nothing, just enjoy it girlies <3
part 1 part 2 part 3 playlist!!
on the way to the bookstore, the trio was silent. woo-jin sat beside gun-woo, y/n sat opposite them. whenever the girl looked at one of them, they looked away. fiddling with her fingers, she also looked out the bus’ window. were they really bad for intervening when yang jae-myeong and his gang beat that man? yeah, because they fucked up the plan. but at the same time… y/n didn’t feel actual guilt. everytime she got into danger when she was little, her father didn’t beat her and said that if she ever gets into trouble like that, he’ll beat her. he always said that it’s alright if someone’s alive. that’s what's important. they can think about the other problems later.
tonight, they saved a man’s life. sure, the plan was blown, but they can always make new ones.
otherwise, should they let the homeless man die? maybe hyeon-ju is good at stalking and good with the stuff she did until now, but she never got into this situation.
getting off of the bus, they only looked at each other. before they could go down to the bookstore, y/n stopped them, taking off the mask.
“listen, guys… maybe it wasn’t a good idea to do this. and since the two of you are in need of money, and i’m the new one, if hyeon-ju wants to kick you two out, i’m gonna say that this was my idea.”
“you can’t do this. this is your purpose just the same as ours!” woo-jin protested. y/n shrugged her shoulders.
“i will find another way. it was too good to be true anyways. your jobs are more important.”
“we’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” gun-woo replied, as they get in.
before they stepped in on the door, y/n muttered.
“let things be as they should be.”
hyeon-ju was fuming, as she thought. she tried not to become pissed too fast, but she didn’t know what the other girl’s first words would be. as she sat on the couch, she didn’t even let them get into place.
“don’t sit. this will be quick.” she said as woo-jin tried to pull out the chair. y/n gulped. “did you fight him?”
“it was unavoidable.” woo-jin replied.
“we can’t work together. what? isn’t it obvious?” she continued, when the three looked at each other.
“we gave you a sincere apology.”
“i don’t need an apology!” hyeon-ju snapped.
“but that man needed an ambulance.” said y/n, leaning on one of the shelves. hyeon-ju looked at her, then at the boys again. she stood up.
“yang jae-myeong saw your faces, didn’t he? my plan was to tail him and gather evidence quietly. now, that he knows someone is following his tail, he’ll lie low. therefore, my plan is ruined!”
“we wore caps and masks, he couldn't have seen our faces.”
“right, since you covered your face, there’s no way he’d recognize you.” hyeon-ju’s tone was sneaking higher and higher with malice. “since this shitty hair was covered, he wouldn't recognize you!” hyeon-ju touched woo-jin’s hair. okay, his hair was a little unruly, but it fitted him well. “and y/n’s unusual hair! fuck, i’d recognize you from a mile away!”
y/n scratched her eyebrows, trying to smooth the wrinkles on her forehead.
“what are you doing? get out.”
hearing these words, she pushed herself away from the wood. “listen, hyeon-ju, it was my idea. you can kick me out, but not them.”
“oh, so you’re protecting them now? or what the fuck?”
“i’m saying… that when the gang was beating that guy, it was my idea that we should protect him. i was the one who said that we would go there, and i was the one who kicked out the knife from yang jae-myeong’s hand.” she pursued, as she walked in front of the girl. her expressions held no anger, no hatred. it just held simplicity.
“and what should i do with this information?” hyeon-ju growled.
“seriously, i don’t know. do what you want, i don’t want to tell you, because you probably wouldn’t listen to me. but you also can’t forget that this was our first mission. at every mission, mistakes are almost common. we can always make other plans. not to mention that gun-woo, woo-jin and i never did shit like this, and you weren’t there, so you can’t judge the situation just because you think we are losers.”
there was silence for a couple of seconds. y/n tried to hope that she would think about what she said, but the response was simply cruel.
“the loss of your father, or your hope for revenge did this with you to say this?”
the air in her throat stopped. her pupils dilated, and felt like those words got her heart into a fist. licking her lips, she didn’t know what to say. this was her biggest secret, and this girl just bragged about it like it was some simple topic like the weather. she didn’t want to look at woo-jin, especially not gun-woo, and felt like the ceiling of the bookstore’s gonna fall on her. she tried not to breath heavily, tried not to get tears into her eyes. and she didn’t want anyone to know about this. hell, nobody even knows this except for sir choi and his father’s friends. breathing in, trying to calm herself, she didn’t want to be here anymore. she didn’t want to be in a place where the biggest loss of her life was turned against her. smiling sadly and in the way disgraced people did it, she bit her lip, then let it go.
“you know what, hyeon-ju? you have no right to dig into my past, under any circumstances. i tried to be kind and helpful to you, but i’m not gonna mince words, so it’s good for you if you know that after this, you deserve everything if your plan doesn’t work out.”
when she was done, she threw onto the couch the hat that was given to her. storming out, gun-woo tried to stop her, but she softly pulled his hand away.
y/n walked out hurriedly, wiping the tears away, not giving them the chance to run out. how could she do this? how could she use this against her? her memories were coming back to her. blood. fear. slicing sounds through meat. through organs. through the heart. through the mattress she lied under, the edge of the sword stopped right above her chest. gathering wetness of the blood, dark red pools crossing each other, becoming one big puddle. some of the blood dropping on her nose, her face, her eyelids.
“no… no, no, no, no…” she whispered, holding her face in the hope that there won’t be more and more new ones. she had no right to do this. she had no right. she was cruel, she was evil, she wanted to get under her skin and she let her! but how could she not?
[ 𝐆𝐔𝐍-𝐖𝐎𝐎'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ]
after telling hyeon-ju what he wanted to say, he and woo-jin stepped out of the door. he worried about his job, the hundred million won loan that he took, and how he’s gonna pay it back, his mother, and the whole smile capital thing. he was tired and hungry, and y/n was there too beside his concerns. her words echoed in his head.
“i’ll find some other place. don’t worry too much.” woo-jin’s words were loud in the silent hallway.
“i’m sorry… i couldn’t hold back.” he said as woo-jin hugged him with one arm.
“you held back better than i did. and how y/n did. nevertheless, maybe i'd have lashed out too if hyeon-ju pointed out the vulnerable parts of my life.”
“i don’t know why she had to do this. y/n even assumed that she was the one who ruined the plan. she lied for us…”
“i don’t know man, i don’t understand girls. but y/n were harsh too. even if you can save our job, hyeon-ju is sure as hell won’t call y/n back.”
“you think?” gun-woo asked. woo-jin tiredly sighed.
“i guess so. are you hungry? let’s go to this hangover soup place i know. oh, wait a second” he took of his arm from gun-woo’s shoulder. “, it’s probably closed because of covid. it’s past ten.”
gun-woo’s stomach churned. it hurt damn much. it was afternoon when they ate, but so much has happened since then.
“that just made me more hungry.” he said, bending a little bit to ease the ache in his tummy.
“i forgot.”
“my stomach hurts,” he told woo-jin.
“hey, it’s not my fault they’re closed because of covid.”
“but it’s your fault for bringing it up.”
“you couldn’t hold yourself back with hyeon-ju just now!”
“you said that i did a good job.” gun-woo disagreed.
“i said that because you were moping like a loser!”
“i wasn't moping like a loser!”
woo-jin’s expression began to crease.
“i wasn’t moping like a loser”, he babbled. clearly wanted to imitate gun-woo.
“what are you doing now?”
i’m imitating you, loser.” woo-jin replied as he continued to babble. “man, i’m hungry. my stomach hurts.” it hurt gun-woo more than hunger.
“wow… you’re so ugly.”
“how could you joke like that?”
“what? i wasn’t joking. i’m being serious.”
before woo-jin could argue longer, they heard soft sniffles.
“did you hear that too?” gun-woo asked. woo-jin nodded, as they tried to look into the direction of the noise. it was dark, and they saw nobody. “what if it’s y/n?”
“let’s get a look.” woo-jin muttered, as they began to follow the sound. it was truly y/n, sitting on a bench, her shoulders shaking, hugging herself. every cry was louder than the other. gun-woo looked at woo-jin, and without a word, they understood each other. stepping slowly closer to her, when gun-woo was at the other end of the bench, he softly asked.
“is everything okay, y/n?”
“idiot, she just cries out her soul!” woo-jin scolded him, and y/n slowly shook her head. she seemed so vulnerable. nothing like he know before this. she wasn’t the girl who stood proudly, she wasn’t the cool bartender, she wasn’t the girl who wanted to punch woo-jin the first time they met. she was little and hurt. it was hard to miss that her whole body was quivering, her hands before her face. sitting beside her, he tried to touch her, but didn’t know where to do it. hands? she would be too scared. back? it’s pressed to the back of the bench. it was easier to hug her body. gun-woo gulped, and at a slow pace, he reached his arm around her, pulling her into his embrace. without a word, y/n leaned into his chest, laying her hands on his chest beside her face, trying to wipe her tears. she was warm, and her hair softly brushed to gun-woo’s chin. her soft, but fast breaths fanned against his jacket.
“i’m… i’m so sorry, i’m sorry… i fucked up, i’m the cause of your failure… i, i didn’t want that, i’m so sorry, i didn’t want to mess up…” she hyperventilated, sometimes pressing her lips together to suppress the whines that escaped her mouth.
“it’s okay, y/n. it’s okay. don’t worry.”
“no, it’s not… it’s not okay… i’m sorry i got angry, i’m sorry for what i said and what i did… i…” y/n’s voice got hoarse, she was repeating the same sentences again. “...i just got scared that she knows about it, i was scared that she’s gonna use it against me… i just felt so horrible, i’m so sorry…”
gun-woo peered at woo-jin. what to do now?
“you don’t have to be sorry about anything. you said those things because… you felt like you had to say them. i don’t know what happened to you, but me and woo-jin gonna help you. right, woo-jin?”
“yes, absolutely.” woo-jin seemed to be a little bit… scared? for a couple of minutes, they sat in silence. y/n’s fast breaths began to slow down, and her body wasn’t trembling that hard now.
“i’m sorry for everything i said… you just wanted to help.”
“y/n, don’t worry about this. really. we’re gonna figure out something. i am sure about it, and i know that you are too.”
the girl slowly breathed in, looking up at him. some tears were dried on her face, the mascara was running low to her lips; even down to her neck. her lips were chapped from the bites, some locks of her hair were sticking to her face. wiping her eyes to see clear, she nodded.
“thank you, gun-woo. i’m sorry but i have to go now… work doesn’t make an exception for girls who chase criminals at night.”
when she stood up, gun-woo knew that he didn’t want her to go home alone. sure she was a good fighter, but in this state, even a hit on the head could knock her out. not to say that they were far away from yeongsan.
“can we escort you home? it’s dangerous to go alone, and you sure are hungry.”
y/n nodded, and when she held gun-woo’s hand to pull him up, the boy’s stomach grumbled.
“are you two hungry? we can go to mine, i have some instant noodles.”
“no, we don’t… we wanted to eat somewhere anyway.”
looking at her phone, y/n huffed.
“everything’s closed, gun-woo. it’s past ten.”
“that’s what i was telling him too!” woo-jin said, y/n let out a little giggle.
“let’s go to mine. come on, i’m hungry, you’re hungry, we’re all hungry.”
[ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 ]
arriving to y/n’s rent, it was peaceful. she lived on the eighth floor, the highest level of the row house. it had a little terrace, only to place some plants on the floor and to smoke a cigarette while standing. the living room was smaller than in gun-woo’s apartment, there was only two doors, one for the restroom, one for the bedroom. the walls were filled with photos and plants, and some weird clocks.
“your house is very cool, y/n!” woo-jin said as y/n locked the door.
“thanks. it was a pain in the ass to convince my landlord to have some plants here. sit down, watch some tv while i make the food, okay? make yourself comfortable!” she replied as she took off her shoes, going to the kitchen. picking out leftover kimchi from the fridge, she searched for the ramen in the lower drawer on the left.
“can i help?” gun-woo asked from aside, while y/n picked out four packs of noodles.
“only if you want. do you prefer not spicy, medium spicy or very spicy?” she asked, as she showed them the flavors.
“it doesn’t matter. but i like medium spicy most.” he said, making y/n smile.
“then medium spicy it is. can you give me the wooden spoon? it’s on the right side, above the bigger drawers.”
“sure,” gun-woo said as he placed it on the counter.
“do you want anything? go back and watch tv! it will be ready in minutes.” y/n said to him. gun-woo leaned to the counter.
“i just want to help you. it’s you, inviting us dinner after all.”
“it’s nothing. i don’t have guests that often. it’s good to have someone here, to fill up the rooms with life. salt, please, above you.”
“i don’t have many friends either. i mean, i don’t know how many friends you have… but i’m not a wordsmith.”
“you don’t have to talk much to have friends. friendships aren’t about talking. it’s about trust and the peaceful understanding of each other. it doesn’t have to be loud. my love for my parents wasn't loud either.” the girl replied as she began to stir the noodles.
just as holding her hand, gun-woo found comfort in her words. only if she knew that he thinks the same way. maybe that’s why he wasn’t good with his ex-girlfriend. she always wanted loud confessions and high volume dates and occasions, and he couldn’t give it to her. for a long time, he thought that he was wrong for not stepping out from his shell. he already felt these things that y/n said, but never could form it into words so good like her.
“you are too good with words.” he said, getting y/n knitted eyebrows.
“me? how so?”
“you don’t talk too much, but you always say something that has a meaning. of course i like woo-jin, he talks a lot and makes good jokes. i feel like he can speak on my behalf too, and this makes things easier.”
“did you get to know him in the marine?”
“no, after a championship. he lost against me, and i invited him to eat. then it turned out that we both served in the marine. it was before my mother assumed the loan.”
“i get it.” y/n said, then tilting her head, she leaned to the counter. “you don’t have to answer this question, but what is that band-aid on your face?”
“oh, this?” gun-woo asked, and maybe, he blushed a little bit. “it’s… an injury that the boss of the smile capital gave me.” he began to uncover the scar. y/n’s lips tightened.
“oh my sweet jesus… how did he do this?” she muttered as she looked at it.
“at one night, i was talking to my mother on the phone. i wanted to help her close the coffee shop she owns, but when she called me, her voice was frightened and scared. she asked me where i am, and that some strange men were standing outside. when she tried to say something, the glass of the coffee shop was broken with a brick, and she began to scream. she was so scared… i’ve never seen her so scared. i ran to her, and fought the guys who destroyed the place. then… that man came, and another… he was stronger than anybody else i ever knew. he was like a mountain, stronger, taller. he beat me up real bad. and then, the president of smile capital crouched over me, and… well, he did this to my face. he has one, too.”
“one what?”
“a scar like this.”
“oh, yeah, i get it… it’s horrible. it’s so fucked up they beat up little men to get stronger. they should make a pass with the same weighted groups as them.” y/n whispered. “does it hurt?” she looked from closer, reaching out her fingers to imagine how it could feel under her touch. gun-woo gulped and shook his head.
“no. only a little, when i touch it.” y/n pulled back her hand. the boiled water behind them almost ran out from the pot, making y/n jump back, turning around. “oh, shit, the noodles! okay, they’re not so spongy… woo-jin, come! dinner is ready!”
after setting the table, during dinner, the trio barely talked to each other, mostly complimenting the food y/n made. she told them again and again that it’s just instant food, but the guys ate like they haven't been eating for three days. boys, y/n thought as she saw gun-woo pushing another big bite into his mouth. his cheeks puffed out as he chewed the noodle. y/n smiled, and got back to eating. after finishing the food, they helped to clean the table and packed the dirty bowls into the washing machine.
gun-woo stepped to the door to put on his shoes. he looked on the clock, it was almost midnight. oh no… the buses weren’t working anymore today, the earliest time is three a.m. how could he ask y/n to sleep here? and woo-jin? they only agreed about dinner, not sleeping here!
“oh, shit! look at the time!” thanks, woo-jin, he thought as he stepped beside him. “i live over the bridge, it’s at least an hour to get home…”
“woo-jin, we can’t take advantage of y/n’s hospitality. you’ll survive the little walk.”
“but i’m soooo tired…” he yawned, and this time, he was right. gun-woo also had to suppress a yawn several times as he ate.
“yeah, me too… but it’s not that we agreed on.” he whispered, as he continued to pick up his other shoe. when he wanted to open the door, y/n appeared beside the hallway wall.
“what are you doing?” she asked, and she yawned too.
“going home…?” gun-woo said, looking and woo-jin. y/n shook her head.
“but the buses aren’t working today anymore… shit, it’s almost midnight?” she almost repeated woo-jin’s words.
“yeah… but we’re gonna walk a little bit.”
“if you walk home, you’re not gonna get home even at two in the morning.” y/n told them, scratching her neck. “i don’t want to tell you what to do, but… if you're just the same as me, then sleep here. i won’t mind.”
woo-jin looked at gun-woo, smiling a little bit.
“okay, then… we’re sleeping here, if you really, really don’t mind.”
y/n shook her head.
“i’ll get you two towels. i’m showering first!”
getting out from his shoes again, gun-woo looked at woo-jin.
“the couch is mine.” the other stated, making gun-woo protest immediately.
“no, no! we’re both sleeping on the couch!” woo-jin sighed, and made gun-woo sit down on the couch. he looked like he’s gonna give a speech to him, like a proud father.
“listen, gun-woo… i think you haven’t been in situations like these. when you get to know a girl, you gon dates with her, doing cute things, speaking about things she likes, or you just listen to her. because girls like to brag about anything! they love to hear their own voice.”
“but y/n doesn’t brag. and she’s not into me, and… i don’t want to take advantage of her. she does it because she has a good heart. she could easily kick us out to the streets.”
“no, no, no! you don’t get what i talk about! y/n wants us… wants you to stay because she likes you!”
“okay, but that doesn’t mean that we gotta do anything. she’s also vulnerable, don’t you remember how she cried? i don’t want to disturb her feelings with this.”
“i didn’t say that you have to have sex with her! i just said, that… maybe if you said some reassuring words to her… and give her comfort… she’d feel that you are the one for him.”
“i did this too earlier, without any secret motive.” gun-woo replied. he was confused, does anyone have to do this in the favor of getting something? gross. woo-jin rolled his eyes.
“damn, you are too good with people. just don’t be a nice guy, but you have an awesome face, so it won’t be a problem. then just do the same things you did before, and everything will be fine. not to mention that it was so sloppy when you held hands, like in some movie!”
“i don’t know why i did it! but i surely wouldn't hold your hand, if you sleep calmer with this information.” gun-woo replied.
“okay, i’m relieved. but still, if things are going the right way… y/n sure has protection. and don’t do it too loud!” woo-jin laughed as he slapped gun-woo’s shoulder.
“did i tell you that you are sloppy and cheeky sometimes? or do you already know it?” he asked with a bored face.
“it hurt a little bit. but you were savage now! i liked it. keep it up! fighting!”
yeah, fighting. fighting for not getting a heart attack from sleeping near to y/n.
[ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐏 ]
after showering, gun-woo wore the same clothes he wore today. he waited for y/n to turn up, and she did, with a headband on his hair. she jumped a little bit when she noticed him.
“oh, gun-woo, you almost scared me! what’s up?” she asked as she hung her towel, picking out a tube from the top of her drawer. sitting to the mirror, she began to cream her face.
“woo-jin… said that he doesn’t like to sleep with somebody else beside him. so… if you could give me some blankets, then i’d sleep on the floor in the living room.”
y/n looked at him, half of her was white. gun-woo imagined that what if that’s what he could see every night… if they lived together. he slapped himself in his mind, don’t do this now! she’s just a good friend. and she’s still vulnerable.
“are you crazy?”
“no… i’m not. why?”
“sleeping on the floor will give you sore muscles. uhm, i don’t know… maybe we could sleep together in my bed?” she offered. gun-woo hoped that his face wasn’t as red as a tomato.
“no, i… i just sleep on the floor… don’t worry, you are already so kind for letting us sleep here.”
“gun-woo, i don’t want to press you into anything, but after this day, i think we all deserve to sleep somewhere comfy. and look, my bed is big enough!” she said as she pointed to the bed. gun-woo looked around the room; there were pictures on the wall as in the hallway and the living room, and some personal stuff like her brush, some make-up stuff or a couple of little mirrors stood on the drawer. her bed was really big, it almost covered the rear side of the room, with a window on the side. it was lovely.
“okay, if that’s really alright with you… but wake me up anytime at night if you don’t want me to sleep here.”
y/n smiled and nodded.
“okay.”
getting into bed, gun-woo offered to sleep on the inner side, just in case if y/n wanted to get some water or anything else. as they laid down, y/n’s face was in front of him. his heart was hammering in his chest. he didn’t even remember when he was this close to somebody, and y/n was beautiful. simply beautiful, without makeup too. her face was calm, and she was softly breathing. in the dark, he only could make out the lines of her expressions.
“y/n?”
“yeah?”
“i’m sorry for what hyeon-ju said today. and i hope that you are okay now.”
“don’t worry, i’m fine. sometimes memories come back, but i’m kinda used to it. it was good when you hugged me. it calmed me down much earlier. thank you.”
“you don’t need to thank me.”
“but i have to. i’m glad that i’ve met you and woo-jin. it’s the best thing that has happened to me in a long time.”
“seriously? you seemed so cool when we first saw you. like you didn’t need anybody to live your life.”
“just because i don’t express emotions… well, i think i needed some new things. but that’s my problem, sometimes i don’t even know what i feel. it’s easier to feel nothing than to be overwhelmed by ignorance. but wait, what did you think about me when we first met?”
“why do you ask that?”
“i don’t know. it’s interesting to me what people think about me first.”
“okay… well, you seemed to be the coolest girl i’ve ever known. you seemed powerful, and though. somebody who i wanted to know but if i didn’t have the motivation or the cause, i’ve never dared to accost. and you seemed mysterious. i don’t know why, but when you talked about the things you live through everyday, i knew that you know more than me or woo-jin, or anybody else in our generation about life. you see people wither, you see their pain… and you continue to work there. i know you surely could get another job if you wanted, but… i think you need this pain.”
“for what?”
“to suppress another one. i’m sorry, i didn’t want to bring it up again. it’s just a guess.”
“that’s fine, i won’t cry anymore tonight. it was just weird for me, to hear these things from a mere stranger.”
“i know. it would be hard for anyone. and… what was i like when you first saw me?”
“oh, so you’re curious now… i like this. well, well… where to begin… i thought you were loyal and brave. braver than anyone. and the way you talked or bent in front of me showed me that you had respect for everyone. and a good heart. the way you talked, it was calm, but on the other side, you seemed digressive and someone who was riddled with desire to act. to do something, to solve problems. you have a kind of fire in your heart, and that fire burns through everything. that makes you unstoppable. and i see these attributes in you now too.”
gun-woo smiled with full lips, he hoped that y/n smiled too. the compliments shoot to his heart, overflowing it with something that was beyond happiness or wholeness. he heard how she delicately yawned, her soft breath fanning his neck. was she that close to him? he didn’t mind it anyway. he felt happy, happier than ever in the last few weeks and days. and thinking about the whole father-thing, maybe it was bizarre, however, they each lost their father… but they gained a new person in their lives. someone who could fill the gaping holes in their hearts.
“i am very tired now, gun-woo. good night. and thanks for everything. i hope you sleep well.”
“good night to you too, y/n.”
when he closed his eyes, he felt a little movement, and then heard a creak. what– something warm on his cheek. something warm and soft, feeling like… lips?
did y/n just kiss his cheek?
[ 𝐘/𝐍'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ]
maybe it was rash and random, and maybe that’s why she turned away from him. this day was so weird, and a lot of things happened… but having gun-woo here felt like she was at a safe place again.
like she was at home again. in her mother’s embrace, under the blankets, with the heating bottle, in utter peace.
she didn’t know why she did this. and she didn’t want to know what could be gun-woo’s reaction. she just wanted to sleep.
and maybe it was too rushed, she only knew him for two days, and gun-woo was too good for her… but maybe she fell a little in love with him.
𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.
author's note: on 8-9-10 of july I'll be on holiday (probably the only one in this sumer cdjksfnjks) so it's not so sure I'm gonna upload so fast, but this part is nearly twice as long as the previous ones so i hope you enjoyed uwu
taglist: @fairyhani @castleninja @littlebaby-bunbun @jaylans-stuff
(ask for tag in taglist in comment or here)
#bloodhounds kdrama#bloodhounds netflix#bloodhounds imagines#bloodhounds x reader#bloodhounds#woo do hwan#gun woo imagines#gun woo x reader#woo jin x reader
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Just Because We Get Around
Part one of Fuck His Dad. A fic based on this post.
Summary
Eddie pulled Dustin’s hands away from his ears and threw an arm around his shoulders. “Seriously, Dusty, I’m not gonna sleep with your dad. You have nothing to worry about.”
...Maybe Dustin had something to worry about.
Steve had been feeling it for a while now. He felt it in the creak of his joints when the weather changed too fast, felt it when he noticed a new silver streak in his hair. He was still in good shape, he wasn’t decrepit or anything like that. He still played ball with Lucas when he came over, he still swam a couple mornings a week, and coaching the girls JV basketball team meant he got some exercise running up and down the court with them. Still, sometimes he would just have a few days in a row where he felt it more than others, and it kind of got him down.
Steve Harrington was getting old. He wasn’t nineteen anymore, he was forty-five now. He had a job, a 401k. He had a kid in college for Christ sake.
Dustin was maybe the thing that made him feel the oldest, though. Not because of his age, but because he was always talking about some new game, new trends, using some new lingo. It drove Steve crazy . He tried to keep up, but it was hard when things seemed to change at the blink of an eye– and then he felt like even more of a fucking geezer for complaining about the speed of the way things changed, too.
He was trying to listen to Dustin and his friend Eddie, who had been bouncing ideas off of each other for the better part of an hour for what they could do to get more attention on Eddie’s band online. The more they talked about tiktok trends and their social media presence, the more Steve felt in over his head.
“You’re leaving, Mr. H?”
Steve turned around to look at Eddie and Dustin again. “Yeah, figured I’d go catch the end of the game.”
“Oooh, you’re ditching us for sports ?” Eddie shook his head. “I’m insulted.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I think the two of you have this under control. You don’t need help from an old man.”
“Old?” Eddie shook his head and looked at Dustin like Can you believe this guy? “Mr. H, you’re not old.”
“I am, too,” he laughed.
“Yeah, he is,” Dustin agreed. He made a face. “He’s my dad , of course he’s old. Now–”
“No he’s not.” Eddie moved to rest his elbow on his knee, and he gestured towards Steve. “You’re not old, you’re still, like, hot. ”
Steve’s face heated up while Dustin just gaped at his best friend.
“Dude, what? Gross.”
“He is!” Eddie insisted. “Look at him!”
“I am! That’s my dad! ”
Steve laughed again and moved to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “I– you’re sweet, Eddie. Thanks.” He meant it, too. Eddie was probably just being nice, but it still felt… good. Especially coming from the pretty boy with the curls and the tattoos and eyes so deep that anyone would have a hard time not getting lost in them.
He managed to not stare, but only just barely. This was his son’s best friend– one of them, anyway. Sure, Dustin hadn’t been friends with Eddie since he was a kid, like was the case with Will and Mike and Lucas, but still. He didn’t want to stand here thinking about how hot the guy was like an old creep.
Eddie wasn’t the first guy Steve had noticed. There had been Tommy Hagan when he’d been in school, who was mean but had freckles that stood out when he laughed or when he was pissed. There had been Billy Hargrove– who was pretty but a complete fucking asshole, and Steve hadn’t given him a second look when he found out the kind of person Billy turned out to be.
There were guys in college, too. A professor whose shirt sleeves had hugged his biceps, a teacher’s aide whose pants had hugged his ass in a way that had given Steve dreams that still made him flush to think about.
He leaned back against the refrigerator, his eyes on the countertop. “I think if I was born in your generation that I might’ve been bisexual.”
Eddie and Dustin both stopped talking. Dustin was staring at him like he didn’t recognize the man in front of him, and there was something like curiosity in Eddie’s eyes. The boy gave him one of those crooked smiles. “Mr. H, it’s not too late,” he said. “You know that, right?”
“Not too late to be in your generation?” Steve asked, eyebrows raised. He was sure he was missing something, but he was only half processing the conversation. His mind was back on the teacher’s aide, on the team members he’d had crushes on and just hadn’t realized it yet.
That crooked grin grew into a smirk. Those dark eyes raked over Steve, going from his head to his feet and then back up again. “I meant that it isn’t too late for you to be bisexual, but uh. Yeah, you could be in my generation if you wanted to be.”
Dustin smacked Eddie’s shoulder with the crown of his cap. “Dude, shut up !”
Steve nearly choked on his water. “I– yeah, I– thanks,” he said again. Dustin looked like he was ready to spontaneously combust where he sat, so Steve gave a wave, a rushed excuse, and he left them alone in the kitchen.
Finish reading on ao3! 😘
#Steddie#Steddie fic#steddie fanfic#My writing#There is a big age gap please read the tags#There had to be an age gap for this scenario though#Fuck His Dad pt 1#kintsugi_kid ao3#self-reblog
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HI AGAIN!! i saw you said we were allowed to put one or two asks in at a time so i’m hopping on that haha. first of all, with my first husk request, i’d like to say right after i sent that in, i noticed one or two letters you had already done and i would just like to say i’m so sorry if that caused you any extra work!! (well not sorry enough cause i’m coming back to give you more PFF- 😭😭) (sorry i’m crazy, moving on) but if you could give me Lute with the following letters that’d be amazing!! : A, B, G, H, U
thank you sm again!! your work fucking rocks haha, i will definitely be in here more after you do the first two requests i sent, no rush tho!! love ya (/p) and your work 💕
A, B, G, H, and U for Lute
No need to apologize! Slip ups happen all the time. I actually have the switch between windows when I'm updating the masterlist when a new alphabet post is made! Aha!
I hope this is alright, I admit I struggle with writing softer... more domestic stuff for Lute, so this post may be a little short..
ATTRACTION:
Lute would be interested in someone strong... strong body and strong willed. Though only if your loyalties lie with Heaven. Lute already spends her days fighting.. and it seems she might even be Adam's right hand man.. Woman.. his personal guard, it seems. Be it assigned or voluntary. She is more than willing to protect and fight for you, but knowing you can provide for yourself puts her at ease as well as makes her feel more secure.
BONDING:
Similar to the Vaggie post, you both tend to bond when the pair of you spare together. Lute seems to be very skilled in combat, that sort of thing doesn't happen over night. The only drawback here is that she's likely to go a little hard on you, and perhaps she's a bit of a sore loser..? You might be able to convince her to go out and do something relaxing, though it will take a lot of coaxing to pull her away from her duties.
GIFT GIVING:
Lute doesn't do gifts often. She doesn't exactly know how to react when given a gift, so she might react a little tensely. She does appreciate it, she just isn't used to being cared for like that. Likewise, the thought to give you gifts outside of special occasion doesn't cross her mind. She's more of an acts of service person, anyway.
HARSH:
Lute can be very intense. Heaven and it's plans will always come first for her, which can put a nasty strain on the relationship if time and time again she puts the plans you've made together to the side. She can also get really into an argument if she's passionate about the subject, even sometimes saying something in the heat of the moment.
She's stubborn, too. "Angels don't make mistakes", you know? But you're an angel too.. I mean you'd likely be one, right? Given Lute's obvious disdain for anything sinful. Getting an apology out of her is like pulling teeth, though her tense... well tense-er body language does show that she's having mixed thoughts going on inside of her. Tries to offer peace by doing something for you.
UPSET:
When Lute is upset she tends to... shut herself away, a lot of her feelings being outwardly converted into something that LOOKS like annoyance or anger. She'd much rather spend some time alone letting off some steam.
When you're upset she can be a little... emotionally distant. She's trying to connect, but she's so used to being this war machine of sorts that being vulnerable wasn't something she ever considered. She's trying, and even if she doesn't say much she's listening to you rattle off about what's gotten you in a sour mood.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin x reader#hazbin x you#lute imagine#lute x reader#lute x you
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FEAR OF GOD : Chapter II : Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC
Content Warnings: Angst, possessive behavior, unprotected sex (there are no condoms in the apocalypse, only vibes), oral sex (f!receiving), squirting, brief non-graphic descriptions of medical procedures / illness, brief discussion of avoiding meals (no reference to any sort of ED), stupid! Joel ™️
Summary: Joel gets a little stupid and a little jealous.
Rating: Explicit 18+
A/N: I wanted to mention that that I've altered the timeline a smidge to benefit my own whims. So the Joel we find here is about 50-51 and our reader is in her mid to late 20's (cw: age gap 🤓) Everything else in the timeline is the same up until Joel and Ellie return to Jackson.
Another thing, I hella make shit up in this chapter. I talk about a surgical device and there’s discussions of like mechanical/electrical engineering? which I know fuck all about. So if it reads as nonsense I sincerely apologize. There’s a fair bit of character/world building in this ch. so I hope you all can bear with me for a smidge. There is the gift of porn at the end though >:)
Chapter title is from Anne Carson’s Autobiography of Red (my favorite book in the whole world which everyone should read). Art is Intimacy by Angelica Alzona
Word count: a whopping 9.6k (I'm so sorry 😭)
Read on AO3
CHAPTER II: Although a monster [Joel] could be charming in company
What it looked like?
Like fucking the forest for once birdless, beastless.
Like measuring the distance between all that’s lost
and everything else that, even now, waved at
hard enough sometimes,
will sometimes wave back.
But it felt like swallowing the sea–
being forced to, ships and all.
Then a silence as vast as it was particular.
The like holding a mirror up to Apollo
and expecting his face there, when Apollo’s always been
faceless, obviously, being a god.
And the hand still holding the mirror up anyway.
And the face not showing.
-Carl Phillips, Star Map with Action Figures
“I mean, yeah, I’d fuckin’ like to think so. I’m not sure. She told me –”
“Ellie, you’re overthinking the hell out of it.”
“I am not,” she grumbles.
“You’re a dumbass,” you deadpan.
That riles her up. “Me?! You!”
“What’ve I done? It’s pretty obvious what’s happening here – Dina wants you to ask her out – you’re too chicken shit to step up.”
“Okay, genius. Y’don’t know what you’re talking about, first of all.” The sass on this girl, honestly. The two of you sit together at the picnic tables that’d been set out in the town center for the monthly barbecue. “You think you’re so damn smart. Well lemme just ask you this, what’s going on with Joel? You two’ve been weird as fuck lately.” That shuts you up quick.
“Don’t even start with that. The answer is nothing.”
She gives you that knowing look of hers, but let’s it go. Silently says: I know this hurts, so I won’t push. Out loud: “You started it, motherfucker.” You yank on her bangs, and she swats you away. “Maybe I should call you a fatherfucker instead,” she cackles.
“Oh my god, I actually hate you.” You try and swat her back, yank on her bangs again.
“What’re you two schemin’ about?” Joel’s voice comes from behind you.
“Speak’a the devil,” she says under her breath, starting to gather up her empty plate.“Nothing–” She shoots up, and brushes past, “Gotta go. We’ll talk later,” not even sparing him a glance. You look between the two of them wishing there was anything you could do to help them bridge this cold distance between them. She turns before walking off, gives you the finger behind his back.
“Ellie, hold on a sec,” you call after her, but she’s off.
“It’s fine,” Joel says. “Leave it.”
“I’m sorry,” shielding your eyes from the bright sun, you look up into his serious face.
He shakes his head. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.” And that stings. Off-handedly as it’s said, it stings that he thinks their rift doesn’t affect you, make you hurt for the two of them.
How could he ever think that after everything he’d told you about Sarah – a night that’d made you feel closer to him than ever before, while you two lay in bed, still damp and trembling – that you’d not worry about his relationship now with Ellie? Who you knew he loved like a daughter, even if he was incapable of saying it out loud. How could he think it had nothing to do with you now? After what he’d told you about himself in the aftermath of Sarah. That moment, his confession, could sustain you for a lifetime of this push and pull if necessary. With trust like that, what else mattered? Very little, you thought.
“You get everything done you needed to?” he threads his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, and bends to press a soft kiss to your temple.
You sigh, basking in this small tenderness he offers you after his casual hurt. “Yeah, we finished.” Sometimes you wonder if there’s something wrong with you, taking all this in stride. Luxuriating in his offerings of tenderness and vulnerability one second, swallowing the way he casually brushes you off another. Surely there must be something wrong with you. Especially because, when it comes down to it, you don’t really care as much as you think you should .
“How’d it go?” You’d had to debride some areas from Mr. Schwartz’s diabetic foot this morning – super fun for the both of you . The foot was famous in Jackson. A great source of shrieks and giggles when the old man decided to pull it out in front of the kids as his so-called ‘party trick’. We all gotta bring something fun to the table, honey, he’d tell you when you tried to put on your false tone of admonishment with him.
“Long – I had to take more than I’d initially thought I’d need to.”
“He alright?”
“Resting now… Just means it’ll be harder for him later on – take longer to recover, as best he can, in any case. And ideally, what he really needs is a boot – which we have – one… but it’s not in great condition. I don’t even know if it’ll fit him – or a wheelchair, and both of them are being used right now. So, seems my only other option is to order him into bed until I can figure something else out. And of course Connie’s all, this is on you, honey. I trust your judgment, honey. ” You deepen your tone and scrunch your brow trying to inflect Connie’s baritone. “As if that’s helpful.”
He grips your chin, forcing you to take a breath, brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and your eyes flutter shut, pressing a tiny kiss to the pad of his thumb. He hums a little, and you catch the flare of heat in his eyes. “You’ll worry yourself half to death, little bird. Take a breath.” You huff a small laugh. He was right about that, worry was heavy on your mind recently. About lots of different things.
“I fixed you a plate,” you divert.
“You didn’t have to do that, sweetheart. Thank you.” He swings his long leg over the bench to sit astride it, legs open to pull you between his thighs.
“S’alright. I was getting Connie’s anyway.” He digs in, and you card your fingers through his thick hair – overly long now, it brushes the collar of his shirt in the back, you’ll need to cut it for him soon – and watch the thick column of his throat ripple as he swallows. You press your thighs together – the sun is so strong today. You think it might be making you a little delirious.
“You’re not eating.” It isn’t a question, posed more like an admonishment, paired with the severe crook of his brow.
“Nah, I’m alright. Can’t have anything just yet after staring at that foot all morning,” you joke.
“You telling me you’re not as entertained by it as the kids are?”
You roll your eyes at him. “Shocking, I know.”
He turns to give you an assessing glance now, “You sure you’re alright?”
“Just tired.” You lay your head in the cool, dark crook of his neck, breathe him in. “Birdie …” voice laced with concern – he tries to gently tug you back by your ponytail, but you burrow in further – press your lips to the pulsing vein in his neck. “I’m fine, Joel. Just tired, really.” He huffs. Grouchy man.
“Hi, honey,” Connie shuffles up to the table. “Joel–” he nods, “You two alright ? That go a long time with Mr. Shwartz?” he asks.
You’re grateful for the distraction from Joel’s fifth degree. “It was fine. Our handy dandy Bovie is so good.” You’d done your best recently to fashion an electrocautery device, like the ones they’d used before in surgery. The two of you had gathered the different parts over time and much voracious scavenging, to put the system together. “You’ve gotta try it next. We should be real proud of that.”
“You should be proud. You’ve got a nice mechanical mind in you, as well. You know, Joel, the body is just a machine of flesh and blood.” Connie turns his blue eyes, gone slightly milky now, on Joel, ready to impart his slice of wisdom – part lecture, part proud tirade for your benefit, as the younger man continues to work through his plate of barbecue. “She looks at the two the same way; it’s very impressive.”
Joel finishes chewing: “Our girl is nothin’ if not impressive,” he says, giving you an impish little smirk. You pinch the inside of his thigh over the thick denim, not imparting nearly enough punishment as you’d like to.
“Shut up,” you grouch at him. “Anyways, the lines were pretty sharp, the cauterization clean. A bit slow, though. I felt a bit held back – but not too bad, considering.”
“Considering…” Connie muses. He starts to eat as well, and the sight of the slick, sauce covered meat is slightly revolting. The sun is way too hot with the change of season into fall just on the cusp, and after staring at poor Mr. Schwartz’s mangled foot all day… “I’m thinking with a little more juice it’ll be perfect. We just have to find a way to feed it more power without frying the whole system.”
“Yes… it’s delicate,” he says slowly.”You should ask Noah for advice.” Joel is silent beside you, but you feel the tensing of his thigh beneath your palm at the mention of Noah’s name. “He’s always been very keen to help us in any way we need.”
“Oh, has he?” Joel drawls, in that monotone he loves to use when cutting people down. He can’t fucking stand Noah; it’s quite funny to you, actually. You nudge his knee with your own, still cradled between his spread legs, and drag your nails slowly up and down his thigh, only responding with a non-committal hum. He shifts his jaw in that way he’s wont to do when he’s especially aggravated, cocks his eyebrow at you. You give him a tiny little mocking tilt of your head. You’re sure he can see the laughter at his expense in your eyes.
“Yes,” Connie continues, completely oblivious to the silent conversation going on between the two of you, “He’s very adept at anything electrical or mechanical. Although, you are, as well, Joel. Perhaps you could advise us too. Any help would be greatly appreciated.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but I can take a look. Offer what I can.”
You change the subject: “Teddy’s been in again this week.” One of the single mother’s in Jackson, Susanna’s son, Teddy, had been continuously ill the past few months. Coming down with different, seemingly unrelated afflictions on and off. His mother was beside herself with worry, and you and Connie were reaching your limits on what you could do to help him. Much less actually provide a clear answer as to a diagnosis.
“Yes, I spoke to his mother last night. Some sort of ague again, undoubtedly.”
You roll your eyes at him affectionately. Connie loved to condemn undiagnosable patients with ‘the ague’. “Connie, the ague is absolutely not a valid form of diagnosis,” you laugh. That launches him into a tirade about the conundrum the boys posed to the both of you these past few weeks. And ague is a perfectly valid explanation, honey. Neither of you are certain what’s causing his bouts of illness. Though you’re reluctantly leaning towards something that won’t pose anything good for any of you; you’re trying to remain optimistic, but the uncertainty is taking a toll on the both of you, as well as his mother.
As Connie goes on, there’s a hazy buzz rumbling around in your brain. Your temples throb, and you press the tender spot into the hard mass of Joel’s shoulder. He’s finished eating now, and you nuzzle into him, breathe in the warm scent of his skin and sweat, grip the hard swell of his bicep – the thick muscle has the most inappropriate arousal pooling low in your belly, but your stomach churns at the same time, and the sun is so damn bright. Too many opposing sensations going on within you all at once, you’re sure you’re on the verge of sun poisoning – dramatic – and it’s making you needy. Infecting you with ideas of crawling into his lap and having him cradle you. He stiffens beneath your attentions suddenly. The soothing large palm he’d been dragging up and down your spine goes still, pausing with his fingertips tucked just below the waistband of your jeans – as if he’s just now realizing how openly affectionate the two of you are being – his muscles go rigid at your display, and then that’s it. He’s pulling away.
Your gut twists again, your head is really spinning now – you straighten in your seat, scoot back and out of the cradle of his thighs, as far as the bench allows you. Always fucking pulling away. He’s stiff and uncomfortable, but at your retreat he clicks his tongue at you, frowns a little, and you want to snap at his subtle admonishment – you started it, what are you frowning at me for?
Connie is still going on about Teddy. “You sure you’re alright, dear?” he interrupts himself. “You look a bit peaky.”
“I’m fine.” You stand abruptly, “I’ve got to head back, actually.” Joel turns to reach for you, but you step back and away from his fingers. The heat is definitely making you grouchy, sick; you’re not acting yourself. “I promised Mr. Schwartz I’d be back to check on him within the hour.” You don’t want to look at Joel anymore – you’re used to his sudden bouts of tension – discomfort – but something is setting you on edge today.
“You should eat something before you go, honey,” Connie says – looking up at you with concern.
“I had something before I came. I’m okay.” You turn to look at Joel now, as the lie passes your lips, a provocation held in your eyes and tone.
He frowns, “You said –”
“I’ll see you two later.”
“Birdie –” But you’ve turned from him before he can continue, walking away quickly. Your head is spinning, gut cramping and turning over on itself. The sun feels like it’s two feet away from you, bearing down on the crown of your head, and you know you’re about to be sick. Always fucking pulling away, always. It embarrasses you a little that you still chafe at it, the back of your eyes pinching and saliva pooling heavy on your tongue. You know the way he is.
You make it back to the clinic just in time to vomit behind the bushes on the side of the house.
Jesus.
-
Susanna brings Teddy into the clinic late in the evening. You’ve just finished writing up your operative note for the ‘famous foot’ (Mr. Schwartz’s words, not yours) when she flies in, frantic, with the listless child in her arms. She tells you he’d been lethargic and without an appetite all day, but she’d chalked it up to fatigue and melancholy from being ill and bedridden so often, recently. His fever had crept up out of nowhere, and now Teddy was almost unconscious, burning hot and delirious – words slurring, eyes glassy.
It’d been hours since then. Teddy was now resting quietly with cool compresses and ice bags tucked under his arms and against his neck which seemed to be helping. Susanna had retired to the back of the house to rest for a bit, and you now sat between Mr. Schwartz and the boy, quietly reading over a text both you and Connie had already gone over multiple times – hoping to find anything that’d inspire an explanation. Most concerningly of all, you’d noticed a smattering of purple-yellowish, sickly looking bruises along Teddy’s spine. It pushed you in the direction your mind had previously taken concerning what could potentially be the cause of all of this. And even though it was the first you’d seen of any bruising on him, it didn’t reassure you at all.
-
“Joel’s here,” Nancy, the nurse that worked with you and Connie, says quietly from the doorway. You stand from your bedside vigil, sighing. It’s late, and you don’t want to do this now. A little embarrassed from your earlier fit. A lot tired from the long day and throwing up and the heat.
“Can you come out and get me in two minutes, please? Interrupt us.”
She gives you an assessing look. “Sure.”
You walk out to the office to find him leaning against your cluttered desk, bulging arms crossed against his chest, straining the sleeves of his button down. There’s a far off look in his eyes, scowl marring his brow, but when he looks up at you all the tightness in his countenance seems to melt away at the sight of you. “You alright?” His gaze is assessing – sweeping up and down your frame, taking everything in like always. The man sees entirely too much.
“I’m fine. I need to stay here tonight, though.” You jerk your thumb back towards the exam room. “They need me.”
“You said you were tired.”
“It passed – just the sun.” He looks at you like he doesn’t really believe you.
“About earlier—”
“It’s fine, Joel.” You feel too tired, too strung out, to give him an out by pretending to ignore that he’d hurt you, pissed you off. Let it be what it was – you had a sick child to care for – couldn’t think about all the distance that would seemingly exist forever between the two of you, not right now, at least.
“You lied about eating.”
Oh, now he wanted to be fucking honest. You roll your eyes at him, watch his jaw clench. “What?” Tone bratty and antagonistic, “No I didn’t – you misunderstood.”
“You told me you didn’t want to eat, and then you told Connie, not fifteen minutes later, that you’d already eaten.”
“Well then I misspoke – that’s not what I meant.” You turn away from him towards the desk, busy your hands with the papers littered across its surface to avoid his eyes. You feel like fighting – like baring your teeth at him, and you hate it. You don’t want to fight with him, ever. You want, need, things to be okay between the two of you. “Why are we arguing about this? I have to get back.” The bite in your voice startles you for a second, and your hands pause their shuffling. Turning back to face him, wide eyed and shocked at the way you practically spit the words at him, but, fuck it, you decide to just go with it.
He doesn’t let you, though – doesn’t take your bait. You watch the muscle in his jaw feather rapidly as he grinds his teeth, fists curled into knots at his sides like he’s trying to restrain himself from throttling you – and you think you’d kind of like him to do it. You’ve gotta be PMSing or something because where is all this sudden desire for violence coming from? You definitely need to sleep soon.
He exhales a slow breath through his nose. “Not try’na argue, baby… just figure out what’s wrong.” Your heart twists painfully, the back of your eyes pinching and hot, and you will not cry right now. His words make you even more angry because if he cares so much about such seemingly small things like this, why can’t he just let everything else fall into place between you as well?
Nancy pops her head through the open door, calling your name, “Need you when you’ve got a second.”
“Be right there, Nance.” You throw her a grateful look.
Turning back to Joel you rub your forehead, trying to press the ache that’s taking root in your brain out with your fingertips. “Nothing… nothing’s wrong. I’m just…” you sigh, suddenly very sad, very tired. You take in his weathered face, his brow pulled down into a scowl anyone who knew him less would take for anger, but you see it for what it is: concern, discomfort, frustration at the tension that’s held constant between the two of you all day. The both of you pulling away and then yanking each other back. You can see he wants to move past this, avoid whatever fight is brewing – too much for him to handle. You know he hates it when you’re angry and annoyed with him, and doesn’t that have to mean something? Please, please it must mean something more. But you’re too tired for this now, your body overwrought from its brief bout of sickness earlier, from your long day. You’d like to go to bed with him and not wake up for a year. Lay on his chest and feel the movement of his breathing rock you to sleep, count the spaces between his ribs, make a home for yourself within them. A great jealousy for his heart, the organ itself, writhes in you, that it gets to live inside him. You’re feeling melancholy and exhausted and overly emotional . Sad that even when he’s the source of your turmoil, your hurt, he’s still the only one you want to go to for comfort. You clear your throat, “I’m fine, Joel. Really.” You try and give him a small smile. “I was in a mood earlier, but I’m okay now.”
“I need us to be okay, Birdie. I– I know…” he looks away, hisses through his teeth in frustration. “I know I don’t always act like it, but–”
You hold up a hand to stop him. You don’t want to, can’t, listen to him try and make excuses. Explain to you things you’ve always understood about what this thing is between the two of you. “We don’t need to do this. I promise everything’s fine. I need to get back.” You step forward to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, to appease the both of you, but also if only because you can’t help but touch him when he’s near, hands snaking up his belly and chest to fist in the collar of his shirt. He hums low in his throat and grips the back of your neck, other hand low on your back to press you to him, and everything inside you goes liquid hot and wanting, just at the feel of him, the scent of him.
“Try and rest.” He breathes you in at the crown of your head, and you nod against his chest.
“I will. Don’t worry.” But you know he’ll do that anyways, and that alone is a comfort.
-
Connie meanders in about midnight, nocturnal creature that he is, to check on you all. You’d pulled the armchair from the office into the corner of the infirmary while you read in the corner. An all night vigil wasn’t exactly necessary – Teddy’s fever had broken about an hour ago, his vitals were stable, and Mr. Schwartz had been snoring the night away for hours. Nancy lived on the second floor of the house, and was always near and available if necessary, but you were peaceful here. Tucked away in your corner with your book and a throw draped over your folded knees. The anxiety you’d carried heavy in your belly all day had dissipated. Thoughts of Joel settled now, compared to the frenzied hysterical swarm they’d been all day. Sometimes this need for him scared you. That your mood, your physical self, could so easily be altered by him, by his own mood, his words, his touch. The tether he held you by was so strong, it felt unbreakable, permanent. It scared you to think what would become of you if one day he decided to break it.
Connie passes a hand over the boy’s forehead, murmuring to himself as he examines him, pops his stethoscope in to take a listen. His movements are slow and practiced, methodical. You’d always loved watching him work. You’ve passed so far into the realms of exhaustion, you’re a little delirious now, your mind and vision hazy, and you rest your head against the wingback and watch. “He’s settled now. Vitals are steady.” You hum in agreement.
He turns to look at you then, his gaze contemplative as he takes a seat on the bench along the end of the bed directly in front of you. His tired groan makes you smile a little, old man. The fondness for him squeezes your heart. He has something to say, you can tell. “I know your father was an exacting man,” he starts. You nod, still quiet. You know that now is a time for listening. “I think of him often. I know I never met him, but he wanders into my mind quite frequently. I think of the things you’ve told me about him, about your mother and sister–” When you’d first become close, it’d been hard for you to speak of your family, of Beth and her death, but eventually you’d forced yourself to. For no other reason than that the thought of you being the only person left in the world that remembered their names, that knew their stories, wrought a grief in you so profound, it was impossible to keep it all inside. You were scared if you didn’t share, if you carried all that alone, you’d lose yourself in their memories forever. “I think that after all that, after living their deaths in such a gruesome way, it could have been very easy for you to lose yourself in all that. Do you agree?” Another small tilt of your chin. The precision with which he’d always read you, understood you, was the greatest comfort in the world. That sometimes it wasn’t even necessary to tell him out loud what it was you were feeling or needed for him to pick up on it.
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t,” you finally say.
“No…” his eyes take on the thoughtful look he gets, the one that makes you wish you could read his mind sometimes, read the wonderings of that brilliant mind like one of your textbooks. “Instead, you became a splendid and thoughtful physician. A seemingly impossible thing, no? Now, with the state of the world for you to have pieced together a vocation such as this…” his milky blue eyes glint with humor, pride, “Well, it’s all very impressive, my dear.”
“Thank you,” you acknowledge.
“And even more impressive, considering the fact, that had you been given a choice in the matter, you would never have chosen this for yourself… had the world been different, normal.” And there it is again, that keen sense of knowing.
“Yes.” There is nothing more to say. It is, after all, your most painful, most honest, most shameful truth. Painful, not in the sense that you carried any regret now, when you cared for your patients, when you put the knowledge your father and Connie had given you into practice. But painful in the sense that it chafed at your skin, that desire for other . That small seed that had the great potential of growth within you, to spread like ivy around a house, and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until all you were left with were thoughts of what could have been.
“But like I said… your father was an exacting man, and this is what he chose for you. And then, perhaps, even I played a part in that same theft of choice from you.” You try to interrupt him then, to vehemently deny it, but he continues unheeded. “You got here and you seemed to be a sort of benediction to me. A vessel for all the knowledge I could impart on you. A shepherd I could leave this flock to.” He slips his glasses off the bridge of his nose and wipes them slowly with the hem of his sweater. “I know you’ll take good care of them when I’m no longer here. That they could not have ended up in better, more caring hands.” You hate when he talks about his dying, fills you with a premonitory dread you don’t know how you’ll cope with when it becomes actuality. “But alas, you did what was set upon you, took it all in stride.” He pauses, as if contemplating what he’s about to say next, and you know the point of all this has arrived. You even know where it is he’s going with this.
“I say all this, my dear, not to dredge up old painful memories, or reminders of what could have been… But because I would not like to see your choices taken from you once again.” And there it is. He levels his gaze at you, quiet for several moments, and it’s like he is here in the room with you now, his presence, his unsaid name heavy and poignant.
“Joel’s a good man, honey, but he’s a hurt man. Hurt in a way I don’t think even you could cure.”
Your instinct to defend him is immediate. “He’s not— he’s not a hurt man.” You shake your head, brow furrowed, “He’s been hurt before, but it doesn’t define him, Connie. It’s not the sole contributor to who he is.” And that’s true, you know it is. Believe it to your very core. You, who knows Joel better than few others, you know the pains of his past don’t define him. Perhaps before, they did. A pain so acute it molded him into a creature focused only on survival, or perhaps, he let it get the better of him at times. But he is so much more than all that. Has the strength and the will to set it aside when he so chooses to. Ellie being the perfect example of that.
Choices, choices, those were the things that defined a person.
“Isn’t it? You can’t live off the potential you see in someone forever.”
“I hate it when you say that.” You sit up, let your feet drop to the floor, and lean forward to stress your point. “What are we all, if not vessels of untapped potential? We’re all just walking around with the possibility of something more inside of us. Of course, of course I value the potential I see in him! I know he has the possibility of so, so much inside of him – that’s what makes me… That’s why I –” You cut yourself off before you can make that confession, a choked sound leaving your throat. You look out the nearby window at the dark street, press your thumb hard into the center of your forehead, will the tension and frustration out of the skin and bone.
“I know… I know,” he says gently, offering you his hands, palms up – a sign of concession. “But it’s not enough to hang all your hopes and dreams on just that. I want more for you than just that . I want you to have choices. To be able to have what you truly want, what you truly need. I would not like to know that something unfulfilling has been forced upon you once again by the circumstances of this world.” And he says it so sadly, with a look of such tenderness in his eyes, it makes embarrassment burn hot and red in your cheeks. The back of your eyes pinch. What must they all think of me when they see us together? The part that perhaps does, or should, make you the most embarrassed, is that you don’t really care at all. Not in any substantial way that would make a real difference, make you act differently. “I’m not unfulfilled, Connie. I love what we do here,” you say softly.
“I know that, I know. But still…I just–”
You rest your aching head in your cupped palms, bent elbows propped on your knees. You’re so fucking tired. “Connie, please, I know…” you whisper. “Just, please, no more tonight… I’m exhausted. You can tell me all this another time – tomorrow. Just no more tonight.”
“Alright, alright, dear. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to give you grief.” He stands, comes towards you to rest a gentle palm on your shoulder.
“I know… and you’re not… It’s me.”
“I only want good things for you, darling girl.” You press your hand over his on your shoulder, give a short nod.
“Go home – you need rest. Nancy will stay with them.”
“I can sit for a few more hours. Teddy likes to know I’m here.”
“No, no,” his voice takes on that stern fatherly tone he likes to whip you into shape with sometimes. “Enough for tonight. They’ll both be fine. You’ll see them tomorrow.”
You scrunch your nose at him, “Bossy.” But you stand to go, draping the blanket over the back of the chair. He pulls you in for a hug then, envelops you in the comfort and steadiness he’s always offered you, from the very start. He always smells faintly of peppermint and mothballs and old paper. “It’ll all work itself out, my dear. You’ll find a way. You always do. I’m not worried about that.”
-
Joel watches you leave the clinic from his spot in the shadows across the road. He’s been posted here, obstinate and pissed off with himself, for hours. Especially because he’s certain this must be a new low for him, sulking in the dark, watching for you like a creep. But he just wanted to be close to you. He knows you lied to put him off earlier. Your conversation had left him unsatisfied, restless. He knows you’re pulling away because he’s pulling away. Because he’s putting you off, and he tells himself he’ll give you space, tells himself that’s what’s best, but knows it’s a lie as he thinks it.
The thing is, despite his obstinance, Joel was not a man who lacked self awareness. He was, in fact, very good at recognizing a thing within himself, and yet still able to make a conscious decision to feign ignorance towards it to the outside world. This set up worked well for him – sometimes … on occasion… But this was different, and he knew it. Feigning ignorance would not work between the two of you for much longer. You were getting tired and sad and frustrated with him and he could see it and hated himself for being the cause of it. And if he was being honest with himself, which in this moment, he was trying to be, he was getting tired of it too, tired of himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in this position with a woman. On the verge of … something. Something he couldn’t confess, even to himself, yet. But to allow himself that, to allow himself the simple act of even admitting what he knew was the truth of his feelings for you – there was a part of him, a very broken part that had not been used in a long, long time, that couldn’t even imagine it. To allow himself that sort of vulnerability. To allow himself the truth of there existing another person in this world, in what this world had become, a partner – a woman he cared for, needed . It was too vulnerable, too precious a thing to allow himself. Perhaps before, perhaps in a world not overrun by death and disease and violence – by loss.
But what did that even look like anymore? A world bereft of monstrousness? Wiped clean of the beasts that had overtaken it, human or infected. Could Joel even remember such a thing – even imagine it, if only in his dreams? He couldn’t even discern which of the two was worse anymore. Part of him knew it didn’t really matter. Not in the end. It was all conjecture when it came down to losing your life – losing the person you loved. Whether it was fungus or a bullet – dead was dead.
Sometimes he didn't even feel like a person anymore. Just this thing that existed at the periphery of the world. In the moments when he pushed you away, when he turned from the loving look in your face, forced himself to brush off your words and your affection, to hold you at arms length – to protect the vulnerable, scarred mass of his heart – those were the moments in which he was most like a creature, least like a man.
He thought of a world where he felt safe enough to go to the woman he loved, his Birdie, hold you in his arms and say: here is everything I have for you, I’m begging you, please take it .
Such a world didn’t exist in Joel’s mind. Couldn’t fit. He’d been stripped of the ability. To have something so vulnerable and new. A type of fragile he’d not held since his twelve year old daughter lay bleeding and broken in his arms, and have the ability to say I am strong enough to endure the possible loss of this. I need you this badly. So badly I am willing to risk even my own heart.
It looked like trying to swallow the sea.
He follows you home in the darkness.
-
“You get that fixed alright?” Joel’s voice barks from the mouth of the garage. You startle, your knee slamming into the underside of the workbench. Deciding to follow through on Connie’s suggestion from yesterday, you’d come to see Noah, knocking on his door bright and early this morning, Bovie clutched in your hands. He’d been more than happy to give it a look for you. The two of you had been sitting here for about an hour now, and in that time you’d seen Joel’s form stalk by at least three times, from out of the corner of your eye. Absurd man that he was, you knew he’d been psyching himself up to barge in here and interrupt the two of you. Seemed he’d brought his attitude with him.
“Jesus, man–” Noah’s hand grips your smarting knee, rubbing it gently, “We didn’t hear you come up.” Joel’s left eye twitches at the we, his gaze zeroed in on the hand on your knee, his teeth bared in the perpetuation of a ridiculous growl as he takes a threatening step forward. You lift your brows at him – all your fire and fight from yesterday put to rest now after some much needed sleep. He cocks his brow back at you, shifts his jaw side to side in annoyance.
“Absorbed in your work?” he drawls sardonically.
“We’ve made some good progress actually! Come see,” Noah says, completely missing Joel’s mocking tone, the poor thing. He gives your knee another gentle pat, and you think you might just see steam come out of Joel’s ears. He steps up behind you, chest pressed close to your back and passes a hand over your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. This fucking guy. Now he feels like getting handsy. You scrunch your nose at him, turning back to face Noah and the Bovie, your shoulder pressing into Joel’s belly. Noah takes in your positions, the possessive hand now curled around your neck – looks back down at the knee he’d just grabbed and then back to Joel’s broad intimidating form and scowling face. You see a slow swallow move through his throat. As he starts to explain the changes the two of you had made to the electrocautery generator, you consider the differences between the two of them. The contrast is stark. Noah isn’t small by any means, average height, a nice build – but there’s something about Joel. Some sort of warning in the air around him, in the space he takes up in a room, that makes him larger than life – something that says don’t fuck with me or mine. Heat pools low in your belly and you press your thighs together tightly. Fucked up, you’re fucked up – you try to brush his hand off your neck – suddenly feeling overwhelmed, your skin overly sensitized. “Quit –” he says low in your ear and you almost whimper. He’s jealous, and it’s turning you on. There’s definitely something wrong with you.
You try to shake him off again,“ Let go.”
“No.” His voice is steel. Noah is heedlessly going on about the Bovie, about how it only took a slight rewiring from the generator into the hand-piece without overwhelming the system; giving it the little bump of power it was missing. Joel’s thumb brushes a slow, warning path up and down your neck. Down, down, to the top notch of your vertebrae, slowly kneading the fine muscles surrounding the prominence of your bone and then up and pushing into the base of your skull. His hands are warm and dry – the rough calluses abrading your sensitive skin. You feel the flush in your cheeks traveling down over your chest, the tips of your breasts tightening to painful points. You see Joel’s eyes flicker down, taking you in, and he gives a contemplative hum low in his throat.
“I’m so glad you let me help,” Noah says with a warm smile. He’s sweet and so genuine and as you take him in, how completely unaware he is of the silent struggle going on between you and Joel right in front of him, you’re struck by how easy loving a man like that would be. And how unfulfilling for a woman like you. What is it about some people, that they can’t appreciate a good thing unless it hurts a little?
“Connie and I are real grateful that you could help. You let us know if there’s anything we can do for you.” Joel gives him a short nod as you leave.
And then, soft and threatening into the shell of your ear as the two of you walk away from the nice, sweet, uncomplicated boy: we’re goin’ home, and I’m gonna lick that cunt until you’re cryin’, little bird.
Your steps speed up, trying to outrun the clutch of his hands on your skin, trying to escape – even if just a little.
You never stood a chance of that.
-
He follows, menacingly on your heels, as you dart into your house. A rabbit trying to outrun the big bad wolf. You make for the stairs and you feel the tips of his fingers ghost lightly in the ends of your long hair, one foot on the first step, but then his finger is catching in your belt loop, yanking you hard into his chest. Your back thumps against him with a small oof and then his hands are skating along your curves, big palms squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through the cotton of your t-shirt..
“Bad Birdie, try’na run from me.” He nuzzles, gentle, gentle into the nape of your neck, the line of your hair, presses his mouth to the top notch of your spine. You feel his hot, wet tongue slide over the jut of your vertebrae, small peppered kisses to your nape and your entire body flushes hot – arousal pulling low and tight in your belly. Your clit throbs in time with his panting breath in your ear. His soft mouth is totally at odds with the tension he’s holding himself with right now, the harsh way he presses his fingers into the skin of your hips.
You can feel the thick length of him pressing into your ass; he’s hard as stone and throbbing – turned on by the chase. You moan, deep and wanton, slick pooling in your panties, ready for him now , just at the feel of his hands on you. “You want it, baby?”
“Y– yes,” you stutter, pressing yourself harder into him.
“Want me to fuck that needy little cunt?”
His voice is so deep you feel it vibrate through his chest and into your back, down, down your body all the way to the tips of your toes. “Please, Joel,” you whimper. You try to turn in his arms, but he clicks his tongue at you, wrapping his arms more tightly around your waist, half dragging, half carrying you up the stairs to your bedroom.
“I always give my Birdie what she needs, don’t I?”
-
“Settle now. Stay still so I can eat you how I like.” He hitches his hands higher up the backs of your thighs, beneath your knees – spreads you further apart, up and back to press into your breasts, making more space for the broad valley of his naked shoulders. He’d gotten you naked and into bed, quick as a viper. His desperation, evident in the wild look in his eyes. He was unsettled, either by the tension between the two of you yesterday or you around another man, but he was trying to prove some unspoken point to the two of you in the ferocity of his grip on your skin.
He settles his face deep into your sex now and eats. “Who’s all this wet for, huh? Were you thinkin’ about me while that boy tried to get in your good graces?”
“It’s too much. Please, please, please,” you sob. Tears making a slow, steady journey back into your hairline, dripping into your ears. You yank hard on his hair, try to direct his movements. You can’t tell if you’re trying to push him away or pull him closer.
“Want me to stop?” He laps at your clit.
“I– I dont– I don’t know–” It felt like he’d been at this for hours. “I–”
“It’s okay.” Soft, whispered kisses to the puffy lips of your sex, your slippery inner thighs. You’re so wet, and you’d have burns from his beard and bruises from his teeth tomorrow. “I know, I know you’re just a little bird,” his teeth sharp and mean to the softest part of you, then the broad flat of his tongue to soothe – a sharp, quick suck to your swollen clit. His volley between rough and tender on your vulnerable sex setting you further on edge than anything else he was doing. “But you can take it for me.You can be so, so good for me. My good girl.”
Your cunt pulls tight – throbs like a wound. Hurts in a way you’re desperate for. You love him, you love him, you love him. Goddamn the things he does to you, makes you feel. You need him so much and he gives it all to you exactly in the way that’s the most perfect, just for you. You feel fucking delirious, on the brink of insanity.
He pushes two thick fingers into you, cunt spasming and clinging. He scissors the digits inside of you, stretches your hole. The squelch is lewd and obscene and messy. You can feel your cheeks burning red and hot, and you throw an arm over your eyes as you feel your slick leak down between your ass to pool on the sheets beneath you – hiding yourself from your own obscenity.
“Pussy s’fuckin’ good, baby. Tastes like candy.” He pulls out his fingers, slaps your cunt, twice, quick and sharp. The sound you let out shames you, high pitched and whining. “Fuckin’ red ‘nd gaping for me. God, Birdie –” he moans so deep it makes your heart race, brings his mouth back to you – licks a broad stripe from hole to clit with the flat of his tongue. His mouth latches to the aching swollen bud and sucks. “You need me so much dont you? Fuckin’ come in my mouth – wanna taste it.” And he’s right, he’s right, you do, you need him so much. In that instant, you feel so grateful that he knows it.
Your back arches, everything liquid within you pooling low in your pelvis, pulling tight, and it feels like the world is about to end around you; a catastrophe even greater than anything the cordyceps could have ever wrought. This is what he brings out of you with his mouth and his fingers and his words, and you gush onto his face. He almost fucking whines at the splash of your orgasm on his tongue – slurping down everything you have to give him, you feel your wetness cover his face and beard. This is what you give to each other.
He gentles his fingers and tongue. Letting your orgasm coast along into echoes and throbs. You try to push him away with your foot on the thick mass of his shoulder, on the brink of overstimulation, but quick as a viper, he circles his entire large palm around the fine bones of your ankle and squeezes. Quit – presses a tiny kiss to the protrusion of your bone there.
“ Mine,” he growls. “Mine, no one touches you but me–” His hands open you wider for him, fileting you for his eyes only. You feel hot and flush, your skin tight, to the point of bursting, like an overripe plum in the sun. Skin fragile and thin, insides viscous, ready to spill your flesh for him, blood burning hot as it churns in your veins. “Not fuckin’ done yet, Birdie. Not done with this perfect pussy.” Tears make a slow path down your temples, your fingers tangled in his hair, wanting to hurt– just a little. Like the delicious hurt of holding him within yourself. The way it feels like an old aching bruise inside of you when he stuffs you full of his cock. And then he’s up, up, up – quick as a whip – his fingers shoving into the tangle of your hair at the nape of your neck, captured in a tight fist like prey in a snare, and he’s shoving your own taste deep into you with his tongue. The kiss, open and savage – he’s fucking your mouth like he was just fucking your pussy. Your heart pushes against the bones of your chest, and you desperately clutch at his shoulders for some sort of countenance. He unmoors you . You have been unmoored by this man. And you want – need – more.
He kneels between your open legs, thick thighs anchoring you wider and fists his cock, the head gleaming and painfully red. He pulls your thighs over his own thicker ones, and presses the fat tip hard to your sensitive clit, making you jolt and whimper pathetically. “Cock drunk, that’s what you are.” All you can do is nod dumbly, eyes glassy and wet. His voice is so deep. He drags the head down to your entrance, presses just a little, only the fat tip held inside you. He fucks you short and shallow like that, his hips moving in tiny, slow jerks.
“Please,” you sigh, your eyes fluttering shut at the subtle pressure, at the promise of what’s about to come, “Please, Joel.”
“Please what? Please what?” he mocks, just a little mean, and then he’s surging inside in one brutal thrust. Fucking into you without warning and he’s huge — almost too much to take, even after your orgasms. “Fucking tight,” he grits out. He hoists you up, arms wrapped around your waist and starts fucking up and into you, hard. Not giving you a moment to adjust. Letting go of the restraint he’d held while he ate you out. Cock battering into something deep and sensitive inside you, all you can do is take it. Let him have you as he pleases.
-
He can feel your slick pooling at the base of his cock and sliding down his balls. He wraps his hand around the fine bones of your jaw, “Who’s pussy is this?” he growls over the wet slap, “Wanna hear it out loud.”
Yours, yours, yours.
Your face is flushed and sweaty, cheeks red as an apple, eyes glazed, dark, wet lashes clumped together. The fucked out look in your eyes doing more for him than anything else. This is what he does to you, only him . He picks up the pace of his hips, fucks you harder, harder and your tits bounce against his chest. He slaps one of them gently, appreciating the soft jiggle it gives, the small gasp you let out. His other hand snakes low on your tummy and presses down into your pelvis so he can feel the battering of his cock inside of your cunt and shit he’s gonna come soon. Gonna come with his hand feeling himself fuck you from the outside. “Too much, too much, Joel ,” you whine. “Oh god, I– I’m gonna–” You’re soaked, sweat and slick sliding between your two bodies, and clutching him hot and tight as a fist. He can’t get deep enough, can’t give it to you hard enough. He never wants to stop, will never be able to stop.
“You’re taking my cock so good, so fucking good. Jesus fuck, I can’t, I can’t–” He slates his mouth over your open panting one, licks into the sweet, red gleam of you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and he drags his teeth along your full bottom lip, lets it go with a little wet pop. You moan, head falling back on your neck, beyond words. He bends his head, hand wrapped around the fullness of your tit to bring it to his mouth, bites gently down on the tight, aching bud, laves his tongue around it and sucks it into his mouth. Then he’s pushing you back, letting you fall and bounce onto the mattress, legs splayed. When he pulls out abruptly you whimper – he can’t let himself come yet, not yet, just a little more – and he leaves a hot trail of open mouth kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, sucking the peak of your breast into his mouth again, over the swell of your belly, until he’s between your thighs again and bends his head to devour your slick. His tongue licking deep inside where his cock just was. He’s frantic. There’s no reason to the sense of urgency he feels, the urgency he’s taking you with right now. It’s something subconscious – something primal telling him to mark you, lay his claim.
He can’t stop taking and taking, always taking.
He pulls up again from between your legs, the abruptness of his movements confusing you, leaving you to deliriously allow him to do with you what he will. “Taste us,” he says as he licks into your mouth, fucking his aching cock back into your spent cunt, so fucking tight always. “One more, baby. Gimme one more, lemme feel you milk me.” And like his own personal little marionette on a string, you do. Pussy fluttering and then pulling tight, a little furl of a knot, squeezing his own orgasm out of him. He feels his balls pull up tight and he’s painting you inside, teeth latched tightly to the delicate muscle that connects your neck and shoulder. The sound from your throat is high and keening, supplicant. He licks the hurt he’s just left. Grinds his spitting cock deep, right into the mouth of your womb.
Mine, mine, fucking mine. It is a mantra of reassurance for the both of you.
-
He cradles you in his embrace afterwards, his body wrapped around you as if he were a vine grown from your very heart. He sighs, the sound deep from his chest, and you want to tell yourself you can hear a yearning desperate enough to match your own in the cadence of it. His head drops to your shoulder, nuzzles the vulnerable space beneath your jaw, now riddled with his bites and bruises. You know you’ll enjoy inspecting them in the mirror tomorrow, feeling the warm pull of your belly at the reminder. And the moment is so achingly tender, even more intimate in a way, than your sex. The feel of him surrounding you, soft and quiet. Your eyes feel hot, pinching threateningly.
“I have to go,” he murmurs, spent cock still buried inside of you. He presses kisses to your hair, your lips, over your closed eyelids. He can’t stop, God, he’s tried – is trying – but he can’t go, can’t part from you. Fighting is so fucking hard when you’ve got no will behind it. When what you’re trying to fight against is the thing you’ve wanted more than anything else in your whole life, and the only thing standing in your way is yourself, your own inadequacy. Perhaps he could endure the agony, the filth of life, the loss, the loss, the loss, with you held in his arms like this.
His patrol shift started almost an hour ago. The guys were going to ream the hell out of him, he’d been here with you for hours, and still, still he couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull himself away. His lack of will, lack of restraint, of self control – his body and heart’s inability to do what his mind told him to, makes him so angry. At himself, and maybe – not at you, never you – but perhaps, at what you represented. All he wanted but couldn’t let himself have in full. He needed to go. He had responsibilities. He had truths to confess to himself.
He was in love with you. He was. He was.
Joel was an obstinate man, but he did not lack self awareness. Now was the moment for this truth, if only confessed to himself. So, angry, and in love with you, and tremendously sorry, he turns away. Pulls out of your tight wet clutch with a wince, your breathy gasp making his cock twitch slightly, even so soon after he’s just come. You roll over, burrow into the pillows, and he grips the swell of your ass, pulls you apart to feast on the sight of his come leaking out of you. Obscene. Wet and messy and swollen, marked by his spend. He wants to bend for a taste but knows if he does, he won’t stop, will be likely to start all over again. “I gotta go, Birdie. M’already late.” He bends to nip a gentle bite to your ass cheek, one small last taste, then the press of a kiss. He hopes you can feel all he cannot say with that touch. The soft sound of acquiescence you hum as you burrow further into the sheets has his teeth clenching as he reaches for his clothes, heart turning over in his chest. He’s sure every sound out of you has a direct connection to his cock at this point.
He won’t shower, won’t wash your drying come from his body. He’ll take you with him, wear you on his skin. Anyways, what did it matter, really, when he already wore you on his heart, his soul? What was one more conquering of his self? Perhaps this was, ultimately, what swallowing the sea looked like.
Chapter III
Netherfeildren Masterlist
#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#joel miller/reader#joel miller/you#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#the last of us fic#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#FOG fic
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That Night (smut)
(Sugar mama Lin Beifong x sugar baby reader)
Minors go tf away!
Warnings: men being weird, fingering, drinking, degrading, fucking in a closet, fighting, lots of hickeys
Remember that party Asami invited you and Lin to? Yeah it’s party time!
I had a glass of champagne in my hand while I watched people dance around at Asami’s party. The more I drink my champagne the more I realize I should have just gotten a shot. I’m not the biggest champagne person but I try so hard to be it’s stupid. I got this itching feeling that someone was looking at me but before I could look around Mako came up to me. “Hey.” Mako said. “Hey.” I said back and gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek. “Have you seen Bolin?” Mako asked. “No I have not.” I said. “Damn, well you wanna take a shot with me?” He offered me a shot glass. “I’d love to.” I said as I took it.
We clinked glasses then tossed our shots back. The liquid burned for a second then the feeling subsided. “I gotta go find Bolin to make sure he’s not doing anything stupid. I’ll come back to check on you in a bit.” Mako said. “You don’t have to check up on me, I'm a big girl.” I told him. “Tell that to chief.” Mako said as he walked away. I shook my head. When I go out by myself Lin sometimes has Mako follow me around which he rather do then paperwork anyways but it’s not like I can’t take care of myself. I started getting that feeling again of someone watching me and it’s bugging me.
I need another shot. I walked off to the mini bar and ordered a shot of cactus juice and then after I took it I said fuck it and ordered another one. Before I could leave the bar some guy blocked my way. “Excuse me.” I said as I tried to get past him. “Why don’t you come dance with me?” The average height man asked. “Actually she’s my dance partner.” Asami said as she grabbed my hand and dragged me away towards the dance floor. “Thank you.” I said. “No problem now, dance with me.” Asami said. I laughed as she held my hand as we danced around each other and on each other.
“I’m surprised you can dance in this dress.” Asami said to me as I danced on her. “What do you mean?” I asked as I moved my hips. “The slits of your dress goes all the way up your thighs at any minute we could have a flash moment.” Asami teased. “Oh shut up I used the tape you invented to make sure this dress don’t move like that.” I laughed. “I’m glad it’s really working, I’m truly a genius.” Asami said. “Indeed you are.” I said. Once the song was over Asami went to go find Korra. I ran into Mako again. “Still no Bolin?” I asked. “He’s in the pool.” Mako told me.
“Oh also you are doing a shitty job at protecting me.” I teased him. “What happened? Are you ok?” Mako asked frantically and started looking over my body for bruises or scratches. I mean he might find a bruise or two because Lin likes to mark me up. “Did someone do this to you?” Mako asked as he poked at my shoulder blade. “That’s a hickey.” I told him. “Oh.” Mako said as he turned me around to face him. “Yeah me and your mom get frisky.” I said. “I don’t need to know about what you and the chief do.” Mako said and shivered in disgust.
I laughed. “Anyways what happened?” Mako asked. “Some dude blocked me from leaving the bar then Asami came to save me.” I said. “I saw you two on the dance floor, you don’t think chief will get mad?” Mako asked. “Why would she?” I asked. “Since she likes to leave marks on you like that and has me follow you around she seems a little possessive don’t you think?” Mako asked. “I suppose so, yes but I don’t think she’ll get upset over me dancing with Asami.” I said. “Anyways stay with me so you don’t get bothered.” Mako said.
Hmmm how about no. “Mako, look , there's a tall buff smart pretty girl over there.” I said and pointed in the opposite direction. “Where?” Mako asked and I took off. I went back to the dance floor. I’m not afraid to dance alone. Is it more fun to have someone to dance with yes but oh well I have to dance alone. As I was dancing I felt someone grab my waist and I wasn’t alarmed at first my brain thought it was Asami or Lin. “Where’s your dance partner?” The male voice asked. Oh hell no! I quickly moved away and turned around.
“Dude what the fuck?” I asked. “Just dance with me.” He said. “No.” I said and tried to walk away from him but he grabbed my wrist. “Hey! Get off.” I snapped and turned back to face him. “It’s just one dance.” He snapped back. Before I could raise my other hand to punch him I was pulled away and then the guy was put on the ground. “You ok?” Mako asked. “Yeah I’m fine.” I told Mako. “You sure?” Lin asked me. “I’m fine baby.” I said. “I’ll get him out of here.” Mako said and dragged him away. “Come with me.” Lin said and we walked off the dance floor. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“Since people wanna dance with my girl I’ll just have to remind them you belong to me.” Lin said. Oh no. Lin dragged me into a closet. She pushed me against the wall and started a passionate make out. Her coming to save me made me horny but now her shoving me into the closet has me even more excited. Anyone could come in and see us but I don’t care. I want them to know, I want them to see, I need them to know I’m her’s. I pulled away. “You gonna keep making out with me or are you gonna remind everyone who I belong to?” I asked. Lin immediately attacked my neck.
I leaned my head back so she could have more access to my neck. “Lin please more.” I begged her. “Don’t be an impatient brat.” Lin growled. “Please.” I begged. Lin turned me around and lifted up my dress. I wasn’t wearing any shorts, it was just a dark red thong with a heart chain under my long dress. Lin smacked my ass and I let out a moan. “Lin.” I whined. She nibbled on my ear and smacked my ass over and over. God this feels so good. Lin pulled down my panties and started to circle my clit. “You’re wet just from me spanking you?” Lin asked.
“Yes, I love when you spank me.” I whined. Lin turned me to face her and pulled down my dress to pull out my breast. She nipped my left nipple and I gasped. She was gonna leave marks all over my tits. “Lin please more.” I begged. Lin slipped two fingers inside of me stretching me out and my back arched. “Yes, more baby more.” I whined. She curled her fingers and did a come here motion. “Fuck keep doing that.” I moan out. “You’re all mine aren’t you?” Lin whispered in my ear. “Yes I’m all yours!” I cried out. Her fingers feel so good inside of me. “You’re sure?” Lin asked.
“Yes baby I’m yours.” I moaned. “I thought you’d be Asami’s the way you were dancing on her.” Lin growled and rubbed my clit with her other hand. “No Lin. I’m yours all fucking yours! I belong to you!” I cried out. I guess Mako was right. “That’s right you belong to me.” Lin said. My legs were shaking and ready to give out. “Oh god please chief I’m close.” I whined as I felt a familiar tightness building in my belly. “When you cum you better scream my name.” Lin commanded. I nodded my head and the closer I got to tipping over the edge I kept saying her name over and over again.
“Do you think you can take another finger?” Lin asked. My eyes widened. “I c-can try.” I said unsurely. “Good girl.” Lin said and I felt her add a third finger. I gripped Lin’s shoulders. “Fuck chief!” I cried out. “Your tight pussy is swallowing my fingers up so well baby girl.” Lin cooed. We’ve never done this before but it feels so fucking good and I can feel my juices leaking down my thighs. “I’m so close.” I told her. “Cum for me baby you can do it.” Lin said, pumping her fingers faster. “I’m all yours Lin, I belong to you, I’m yours. I don’t want anyone but you,” I grabbed Lin’s face so she could look at me as I declared her ownership over me.
I could tell her eyes were full of lust but there’s something else there but I had no time to decipher what it was because Lin smashed her lips against mine. Lin plunged her tongue in my mouth and I didn’t even put up a fight. I let her do whatever she wanted to me. As Lin slowly pulled away I felt light headed. “You’re right you’re mine, you belong to me, there will be no one that touches you the way I do.” Lin groaned. Her words pushed me over the edge. “Lin!” I cried out as I orgasmed.
Lin fingered me through as my whole body shook. “Fuck Beifong.” I sighed out. “You ok?” Lin asked. I nodded my head. “You sure?” Lin asked. “Yes baby I’m fine.” I said. “Good.” Lin said as she pulled out her fingers and I put them in my mouth. I sucked them clean for her. “Let’s get out of here.” Lin said. “No, I wanna keep dancing.” I whined. “One more dance then we go.” Lin said as she helped me put on my panties. “You fucked up the tape.” I sighed. “What do you mean?” Lin asked. “There was tape that I put on the strings of my panties to help keep my dress from moving all over the place.” I told her.
“You’ll be fine.” Lin said. I nodded and we exited the closet together. Before we made it all the way back to the party Lin stopped me. “What’s wrong?” I asked and turned to look at her. Lin opened her mouth but then stopped. “Where the hell have you two been? Are you ok?” Kya asked coming up to us. “I was a little shaken up about what happened earlier.” I said. “Aww Linny, look at you taking care of your girlfriend. How romantic.” Kya teased. “Kya don’t you have single woman to mingle with?” Lin asked. “No need to be hostile Linny, but are you really ok?” Kya asked me.
“Yes I’m fine.” I said. “Oh and by the way Mako got into a fight with that guy.” Kya said. “Is Mako ok?” I asked. “Of course he’s ok.” Lin said. “Lin knows her precious son can handle himself but yes he’s ok.” Kya said. Lin rolled her eyes. Kya’s eyes widened. “What?” I asked. “Y’all are nasty! All those hickeys.” Kya gasped. “Oh hush Kya.” Lin said. Kya and I laughed. I was happy that the hickeys were seen. This is what we wanted. We walked back to the party and I got to dance with Lin for a little bit. Lin ran her hands over my body as we danced.
#lin is fine asf#chief of police lin beifong#sugar mama lin beifong#lin beifong smut#lin beifong x reader#tlok lin#korra x asami#asami sato#mako tlok#kya tlok
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The Princess and the Duke Chapter 5:
Ready to Fall.
Co-authored by @angelofsmalldeath-codeine ILU Hemmy <3
This blog is a 18+ space, Minors, do not engage. If you are under the age of 18 you are not welcome here. Your reading and consumption of my work is your responsibility but I will endeavour to mitigate any discomfort for you, the reader, as possible. Once again, this is a 18+ space and minors should not interact.
Specific Warnings: Allusions to smut, angst, heartbreak, stepcest(in bold, this is heavy on the issues around this), traumatic childhood, looking after parents as a child, sutures, mentions of past abuse, sad face Dave, crying? Lots of crying.
Let me know if I missed anything!
Graphic made by me, no use of Y/N.
Wordcount: 4.5k
[Read on Ao3]
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You throw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and lean back against the counter as you try and make sense of the chaos of the last twenty-four hours. Dave is downstairs, having grumbled something about smelling like a hospital before heading to his bedroom.
~*~
Dave finishes up in the shower just as he hears his phone ring from the other room. He curses under his breath as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants before seeing the caller ID. His heart rate picks up as he answers immediately.
“Resnik,” he says curtly as he walks back into the shower, turning the faucet back on to cover why he’s not back with you on the sofa already. He turns on the extractor fan for added effect.
“You’re not going to believe who just turned up to my PI firm.”
“My wife?” Dave smiles to himself as he hears Resnik bark out a short laugh.
“How’d you know?”
“I’d be pretty shit at my job, Resnik, if I couldn’t keep tabs on my own fucking wife.”
“Fair enough, well, do you know what she wants me to do?”
“Catch me fucking her daughter?” Dave hears you on the phone in the other room. He doesn’t want to spend any more time talking about this than he has to.
“Bingo! So, what do you want me to do, boss?”
“Do what the woman asks, you won’t find anything of course, but don’t be sloppy. Surveil the shit out of me and make it look good.”
“And if I do catch anything?” Resnik asks and Dave can hear the smile on his face.
“You won’t.”
Dave hangs up before Resnik can get another word in, he turns off the shower and checks himself out in the mirror, opting to keep the shirt off. He knows what the grey sweatpants do to you. He smirks at himself as he ruffles his hair a little. Once satisfied he heads back out into the basement.
~*~
Even though Dave is playing it cool you know he’s anything but ok. Your phone vibrates on the counter as your mom calls for the third time this afternoon. You consider ignoring it like all the others, but you relent, you probably shouldn't keep ignoring her. You pop the microwave open and retrieve the bag of popcorn, upending it into a bowl as you answer.
“Hey mom, what’s up?”
“Hey, sweetie, just letting you know I’ll be away for the weekend. Something came up with Danielle and I need to be there for her.”
Your jaw ticks to the side as you try and keep calm. You’re already heading back downstairs, phone tucked under your ear as you balance the bottles of water and the bowl of popcorn while trying not to fall down the steps.
“Oh no, is she ok?” You feign concern as you lay back against the sofa, pinching the bridge of your nose as you listen to the lies pouring so easily from your mother’s mouth. You set down the popcorn and Dave’s water bottle as you take a swig from your own.
“She and her husband are having a hard time, you remember that prenup you drew up for them. Well, it’s proving necessary.”
“That so? Sorry to hear it, but happy I could help.”
“Anyway, I should be home sometime on Wednesday. If you need anything let me know, ok?” You can hear the urgency in her voice now, she wants to get you off the line. She’s done the bare minimum and checked in, parental responsibility fulfilled. Box ticked.
“Ok, what about Dave?” You say as neutrally as you can muster.
“What about him, sweetie? Is he bothering you?” You can hear the panic in your mom’s voice, followed by a man’s voice in the background. You roll your eyes, it’s too cliché to even be funny. She shushes the other person as you try not to explode at her.
“He just got back from the hospital, pretty banged up. You know anything about that?”
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Probably went out and got into a bar fight, he’s always coming home with split lips and concussions. I’ll check on him in a bit.”
“Right, sure. Well, have fun with Danielle,” you don’t even try to hide the venom in your voice, but your mom doesn’t seem to notice.
“I will, thanks, sweetie. Don’t let Dave bother you. He’s a grown man, he can look after himself.”
“Uh-huh, bye mom.”
“Bye, sweetie, see you Wednesday!”
The line goes dead, and you close your eyes. You almost want to laugh at the ridiculous nature of the call. It’s all so surreal.
“She spending the weekend with Danielle?”
You yelp as you look up to see Dave giving you a sad smile, his hair still wet from the shower as he leans against the doorframe. You frown as you notice that he’s only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants.
“How’d you know it was her?” You challenge as he saunters over before settling in the middle of the sofa next to you.
“Danielle has been going through a lot recently, seems like your mom is there more often than she’s here.” Dave says with a humourless smile, his eyes flashing with thinly veiled anger.
“Seems like it,” you grumble as you grab the throw blanket from the back of the sofa, “You should be wearing more clothes.”
“Don’t like what you see?” Dave challenges as he gives you a sideways look, the smile on his face genuine this time. It makes your heart flutter, the way he’s looking at you with a challenge in his dark eyes.
“Of course I do,” you roll your eyes as you wrap the blanket around his shoulders, “But you’re no good to me if you freeze to death.”
“Point taken,” he concedes as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you in close as he makes sure you’re covered too. You breathe in as you press against his side, your one hand splayed across Dave’s abs as you nuzzle against his chest.
“So, she pretended that she didn’t even know about your head injury. Is she just going to act as if it didn’t happen?”
You ask, unsure if you’re crossing a line as you pick up the remote to start a new episode of ‘Parks and Rec’ but you’re not really paying attention. You lean back against Dave, wrapping the fleece throw blanket around you both as you try to make sure he’s covered and warm. You look down to the coffee table at the bowl of popcorn you’d made while Dave was in the shower and your stomach growls.
“Seems that way,” Dave says as he lets out a noncommittal grunt, clearly not wanting to talk about it.
“She’s such a bitch,” you grumble as you lean forward to grab the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Dave doesn’t respond to that, but the moment the bowl is within reach he grabs a piece and lifts it to your mouth. His dark eyes scanning your face for rejection, but he finds none.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you let him feed you the small morsel, his fingertips ghost along your lips. It’s somewhat a habit of his, whenever you share food, he makes sure you take the first bite. It makes your stomach flutter every time.
Dave’s phone buzzes on the coffee table and you feel him tense up under you. Your eyes flick to the offending object and you lean forward to set it to Do Not Disturb as a message from Nancy comes through.
“Not going to let me answer that?” Dave asks, his voice low, almost disapproving.
“Nope, I want to spend some real time with you, Dave, just you.”
“She’s just going to be covering her ass anyway, it won’t be important.”
Dave grunts in assent at this as you settle back against him, occasionally feeding popcorn to one another as the episodes play out on the screen. You’re barely watching though, focusing on making sure Dave is covered at all times and making sure he’s eating.
“I’m concussed, not dying,” Dave says eventually as he presses his lips to the crown of your head.
“I know, sorry, I’m just not used to looking after someone not in immediate danger.”
“What do you mean?” Dave asks as he leans back, dark eyes searching your face as the episode is forgotten.
“Just,” you pause, trying to determine how much you want to share, “Mom was drunk, a lot, when I was a kid.”
“And it fell to you to look after her?”
“Pretty much, she sometimes had boyfriends and husbands but most of the time it was left to me.”
“That’s,” Dave pauses as he sighs heavily, “a lot.”
“I learned a lot of basic first aid, so it’s not all bad,” you chuckle, an automatic smile ghosting your lips as you recall some of the more morbid memories, “I sewed my first suture when I was twelve.”
Dave almost chokes on his water as he hears this, eyes wide. Even with all his training to remain neutral, this catches him off guard. You feel a wash of shame and fear course through you, and you flinch. Dave sees your reaction and his face softens immediately, a hand coming up to cup your jaw, but he stops himself.
“Hey, I’m not judging you,” his voice is soothing, low and non-threatening, like he’s talking to a frightened animal, “I just didn’t know.”
“It’s ok, we’ve all got our own fucked up baggage, right?”
You take his hand in your own and press your cheek into his palm. You hum softly as the warm press of skin-on-skin grounds you.
“It’s not ok,” he says, bringing his other hand up so he’s cupping your face with both, “You didn’t deserve to go through that.”
“I know, but it is what it is, y’know? She’s my mom, I did what I had to do.”
But your words sound hollow – even to you – as you remember the countless times you’d been forced to parent your own mother, let alone yourself. Dave rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones, his brow is creased like he wants to say something but can’t.
“Hey,” you say as you circle your fingers around his wrists, “Let me go grab a take-out menu so we can order in some proper food?”
Dave nods, welcoming the change of topic as his stomach growls loudly. You both chuckle at the sound.
“Sure, sounds like a plan.”
~*~
“We bought too much food, didn’t we?”
You look at the take-out containers littered across the coffee table and laugh as Dave shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. You’d convinced him to put on a shirt when he went to get the take-out from the driver, grumbling about him catching his death. He’d relented, even putting on a hoodie just to make you happy.
“I don’t know, I’m pretty fucking hungry,” he grins at you with bright eyes, his cheek dimpling as he pops open one of the cartons.
“Same,” you admit as you start opening the rest of the cartons. There is definitely too much food.
You pile up your plate and soon you’re both eating your fill, a pleasant, peaceful silence filling the room. Your knees bump occasionally as you lean forward to refill your plates. Heat floods your cheeks when you catch Dave stealing glances at you.
“So, mom said you have kids, mind if I ask about them?”
“Go for it, what do you want to know?”
“Boys or girls?” You ask before taking a bite and chewing slowly as you wait for the answer.
“Two girls, Molly and Alice.”
“How old?”
“Molly’s ten, Alice is eight.”
“Do you miss them?”
Dave’s smile falters as you watch him mull over his response before answering.
“All the time,” he says as he cocks his head at you, as if trying to figure you out but he says nothing more.
“How old are you, Dave?” You almost regret asking but Dave’s lips twitch up.
“Thirty-seven, why?”
“No reason, just would have thought you were older with two kids and two marriages under your belt,” you pause and scoff at the irony, “but it makes sense, she always liked her men younger.”
Dave’s brow arches at the comment but doesn’t press the issue, clearly not willing to dig that deep tonight.
“It would have been one marriage, but Carol realised she isn’t as much into men as she once thought.”
“Oh,” you wince at your misstep and try to back pedal, “I’m sorry, Dave, I didn’t mean to bring it up like that.”
Dave waves his fork at you, his face a picture of amusement as he watches you fumble over your own words.
“It’s fine, Carol and I are best friends. It’s not a sore spot, not anymore.”
You lapse back into silence as you continue eating way too much food. You steal glances at Dave from time to time, smiling giddily when you catch him doing the same. You know so little about Dave, but the simple act of eating with him makes your chest flutter. It’s domestic and sweet and all too comfortable.
“Why’d you stop practicing law?” Dave asks as he shovels another portion of food onto his plate.
“I guess I just got a bit sick of the corporate grind,” you shrug, pushing your food around the plate as you try to give him a proper answer. The truth is, you were never happy but it’s what your mom wanted of you.
“And I bet Nancy just loved being able to flaunt your success to everyone that would listen?”
“It’s like you’re reading my mind there, Dave,” you say, shaking your head as you meet his sympathetic gaze, “But yeah, it was yet another thing I did for my mom.”
“Have you ever done something just for you? Something that makes you happy? Or just because you wanted to do it?”
His question catches you off guard and you’re almost angry at the insinuation, but you sigh as you shake your head.
“Cam Dolls. This was the first thing I chose for myself ever. I love the work. It’s freeing.”
You cringe as you realise how stereotypical your answer is but it’s the truth.
“I’m glad, because you’re damn good at it.”
“Thanks,” you smile at him, your cheeks burning at the praise, “That means a lot.”
There’s another pause as you feel jealousy rear its head, twisting itself around your stomach as you think about the fact Dave might watch other streamers.
“So, you follow many other Cam Dolls accounts?” You ask, eyes downturned as you try to brace for the sting of reality.
“Nope. Just you. Only time I came close was the day I picked you up, you don’t stream on Fridays and that car ride was intense.”
You look up, eyes wide as you search Dave’s face for any signs of deception. He smiles softly at you, shoulders relaxed as he holds your gaze. You’re caught off guard, you don’t know how to feel about that. Pleased? Guilty for casting aspersions on Dave as a form of self-sabotage? Do you want him to watch other people to make it easier for you to distance yourself?
“What do you get out of it? I mean is it the watching someone get off?”
You pivot in your line of questioning, not wanting to linger on the way it makes you feel special to be his only subscription.
“I hope this isn’t too much information,” he starts, looking down at his food, exhaling softly as he considers whether or not to continue, “But your mom and I don’t exactly fuck, at all.”
His tone comes across bitter, angry. The harsh language only confirming the resentment as you fumble for something to say.
“How long?”
The question leaves your lips before you can stop it, a traitorous spark of hope spurring you on.
“Since she and Danielle, got so close. Pretty much straight after our honeymoon.”
There it is, the unspoken admission that he knows about Bryce, he knows about the cheating. He’s all but said it now and your stomach twists while you try and process the confirmation. But it tracks, your mom never did stick to just one guy for long.
“Then you know she’s violated your prenup, right? She can’t hang it over you?”
Your brain switches into full lawyer mode. You’ve not had a chance to consider any of the ways to exploit it, you’ve been far too busy looking after Dave. But immediately you can poke fist sized holes in the agreement, even without the cheating clause.
“How’d you know about the prenup?”
Dave’s eyes are stone cold as you return your gaze to him, his jaw is set to the side, nostrils flared. You feel the anger rolling off him in waves as he silently demands an answer. You don’t know why he’s suddenly so tense, but that you know about it clearly has him on edge.
“I was the one who drafted it. But I thought it was for Danielle.”
“For Danielle? But she’s not even married-?” Dave cuts himself off as his anger quickly melts into incredulity. His eyes crease at the corners as he lets out a short laugh before slumping back against the couch. It’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders as he considers the ammunition to void it. You being the presiding council for the prenup was the missing piece for him, the sure-fire way he could get it thrown out in court.
“Makes it even easier to break now huh?”
“Wow, I’d have been utterly fucked if it weren’t void for the fact that you’re not licensed to practice in Texas. I’m impressed.”
And all the other reasons.
You think to yourself as you consider how many other ways it’s void now you take the time to think about it. Unconscionability for one, you didn’t know who it was being drawn up for, you can’t be considered independent council. Conflict of interests since one of the parties is your own mother. There’s more but you can’t think of it off the top of your head.
You look down at your plate, bashful at the way Dave looks at you. He’s impressed and it makes you feel weak at the knees the way he looks at you, like you’re competent. Worthy.
“It was nothing, ‘thought I was doing mom’s friend a favour,” you shrug, deflecting praise as always. You’d just written it up as a favour to your mom, it was no big deal.
“You don’t have to do that with me,” he says softly as he looks you up and down, a warmth in his eyes that makes you want more than you’re allowed to want from him.
“Do what?”
“Put yourself down, minimise your achievements.”
You don’t know what to say, it feels like your heart could break as he sees through your carefully curated mask. The confident, but not brash daughter. The smart but not too smart overachiever. The muted version of yourself that you cling to like a life raft.
“I just- I’m just not used to people actually giving enough of a damn to want to see me succeed. I guess.”
“That’s their loss.”
You can hear the anger in his voice. He’s clever enough to piece together what you’re saying, he knows his wife well enough to catch your meaning.
“You didn’t answer my question,” you say as you set your plate down, turning to look at him, “You know about the cheating, you knew the prenup was invalid, regardless of my involvement making it void.”
Dave’s jaw ticks to the side as he puts his plate down, a wince twisting his face into a snarl as he clutches his head. You want to lean over and touch his arm, comfort him, but you don’t.
“Yes, I do.”
“Then why do you stay?”
Do you still love her?
You think to yourself, but you can’t say it aloud, too afraid of the answer.
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated, sure. Like fucking your stepdaughter isn’t complicated.”
You snap, tears flowing down your cheeks as you feel jealousy and self-loathing weighing you down. You feel pathetic, your premature and downright inappropriate feelings making you act like a spurned teenager. You shouldn’t have brought it up, you should have just left it alone. Left Dave alone.
Dave opens and closes his mouth a few times before falling silent, shutting down like you’ve seen him do around your mother when he has to hold his tongue. He turns away from you, a blush creeping up his face as he sees your tears. That hurts the most, seeing him close himself off the way he does with your mom.
You’re just like her.
Your inner voice mocks you as you suddenly feel a hollow dread form in the pit of your stomach.
“I’m going to box up these leftovers,” you wipe your eyes harshly with a napkin, “Don’t get up, I don’t need your help, and you should be resting.”
You snap as you watch him shift on the sofa, trying to stand and help. He pauses, eyes flashing with defiance before conceding. You smile to yourself at how petulant he looks, jaw ticked to the side as he watches your every move.
You box up anything worth keeping before stowing it back in the plastic bag it came in, grateful to have a distraction as your mind races. You feel something for Dave, and it hurts. It hurts that you know there can never be anything between you, that this arrangement can’t last.
But you try and bury it as you head up the stairs, focusing on the task at hand. You store everything neatly at the back of the fridge, hiding it behind bottles of sauces and some Greek yoghurt so your mom is less likely to find it and throw it in the trash.
You turn and yelp as you almost crash into Dave’s chest, you hadn’t heard him follow you back upstairs. He’s looking down at you with a hunger that makes your breath hitch in your chest.
“Thank you,” his voice is low, husky, as he eyes you up and down. You swallow heavily as you look up through your lashes at him.
“Don’t have to thank me, you’re hurt,” you shrug as you try not to fawn up at him, you’re feeling more than lust as he lingers over you. Your hands are balled at your sides as you have to fight the urge to pull him down and kiss him. You can smell his spiced shampoo and his deodorant, he’s so close it’s intoxicating.
“Still, I’m grateful.”
He seems to hesitate, licking his lips as he holds your gaze for a little too long. Dave waited until you’d finished at the fridge, knowing that it’s the only blind spot in the kitchen. Resnik is good, but he can’t see through walls. It’s risky but he doesn’t care, he needs you right now.
“Can I kiss you?”
He asks, the breathy rasp of his voice makes you shiver as you clench your thighs together. You ache for him, but you’re already far too emotional right now.
“Dave, we can’t,” you protest meekly as you press your palms feebly against his chest, “Your head.”
“Don’t care.”
“I said, no.”
Your voice is stronger than you’d expected, and it seems to sober him. His expression hardens and he nods curtly. You kind of want him to push, to be an asshole just like every other man that came before. It would make what you’re about to do so much easier. You step past him, trying to ignore the way his shoulders droop in defeat as you go.
“Well, I’m going to head to bed, rest up and all that.”
You’d give anything to go back downstairs, to cuddle and forget the pain, forget the feelings burning in your chest. But you can’t, you have to stop this.
“Sounds like a good plan,” you nod, avoiding his gaze as you side-step him, “I’m going to call Ash and stay there for a while.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Dave’s voice breaks as he speaks, and you can’t help but turn and face him. Your heart breaks as you see the lost look in his eyes. Gone are the stone-cold looks, perfectly constructed barriers. All you see is Dave, broken, vulnerable, afraid.
“I do, and you know it.”
“You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable in your own home,” he says, almost without thinking and your mouth falls open. You don’t know what to say.
“It’s not my home though, is it? That’s kind of the problem.”
You don’t wait for Dave to respond, practically sprinting upstairs as you pull out your phone. You can barely see the screen as you dial Ashleigh’s number, setting it to speaker before throwing it on the bed.
“Hey babe,” Ash answers on the second ring, “What’s up?”
“I need to stay with you for a while. Getting an Uber, I’ll explain when I get there,” you choke out through heavy sobs, your chest heaving as you pull up the Uber app. You hear the jingle of keys on the other end of the line, and you smile despite yourself.
“Fuck that, I’m on my way, hold tight,” Ash orders down the line, “You at your mom’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Be there in twenty.”
“Thanks, Ash, I love you.”
“Love you too, I’ll be there soon.”
She hangs up and you sit down, letting yourself sob for a little while before packing everything you need, including your laptop just in case you need to stream.
You storm back downstairs with your laptop bag and suitcase in tow. You feel your heart clench in your chest as you see Dave hasn’t moved an inch, ghostly pale as he stares into the mid-distance. He doesn’t even register your presence until you’re marching through the door.
“Wait,” he calls after you as he follows you, but he stops at the threshold, hesitant to head out onto the porch.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you Dave, don’t call me, don’t text me.”
“Please, don’t go,” his voice is desperate as he calls after you.
“Do you still love her?”
You turn on your heel as you see Ash parking up at the end of the drive. You stare him down as he hesitates. You know what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.
“It’s-,”
“Complicated? Yeah, I figured,” you spit as you charge down the steps, fresh tears springing forth as you yell over your shoulder as you load your bags into the trunk of Ash’s car. You pause, hating the way his face lights up as turn to look at him from the car, “You and my mom are fucking perfect for each other.”
You hold Dave’s gaze as you slam the door behind you. You fasten your seatbelt and tell Ash to drive before you curl up into a ball letting yourself grieve for a loss you have no claim to.
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Nothing extra to say this time
Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie
(Story Index)
Infinite stamina!
You put on your coolest expression, giving Joy a raise of the eyebrows. “If you enjoyed that, just you wait. I wish for infinite stamina. I’ll fuck you until you can’t walk or fly stra—wait, can you fly—no, let’s worry about that later. Yeah, I wish for infinite sexual stamina.”
Joy begins to laugh immediately. “Ha! Good one, master.”
You can’t help but shift your very cool expression to one that’s a bit more confused.
“Oh,” Joy’s laughter slowly stops, “Oh, you meant it?”
Her expression shifts too, but to something akin to your friend looking at your dog and trying very hard not to tell you how ugly it is.
“Well, you win some, you lose some… Master, you know how I said I’d give you a warning if you made a stupid wish?”
“Yeah…” you nod, already seeing where this is going.
“You should know that I try not to do that unless the wish is genuinely stupid.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Unwise, you know?”
“Okay,” you sigh.
“Trivial, obtuse, or witless.”
“Okay, I get it.”
“Really deficient in the brain department, if you know what I’m saying.”
“I know what you’re saying! But why?!”
Joy puts a condescending hand on your shoulder, and the other condescending hand on your dick. Within a quarter of a second, any fatigue you were feeling, whether from the sex or from the rest of your day, is gone. “Because, you silly silly duck master, I’m an entity with nigh unlimited control over reality. You should be wishing for something interesting… Also I’m a slut who gets off on you getting off, so you basically get infinite stamina from my mere existence. And of course I can fly. That’s just Mythological Being 101.”
You squint. “There’s class involved in being a genie?”
“No. My last master was a recent college grad.”
“Okay, well if you don’t think I should wish for infinite stamina because it’s sexual, and you get off on me getting off, why’d you suggest I wish for some good pussy earlier? Were you going to make fun of me if I did?”
Joy laughs again, steps around you on her toes—no, wait, she’s floating a bit off the floor—, and pops your cupboard open. She looks the sparse selection up and down before pulling out a box of tea. “No, the good pussy has more to do with the fact that I’m not going to be your slave forever, and I highly doubt that you’re going to be satisfied with not making your final wish before you die of natural and/or human causes (not to make you think about your inevitable mortality… even though it’s definitely coming).”
“It’s coming?!”
“Well duh, but not at this very moment. What do you expect? Random meteor strikes? Chill. Death is cool.”
“No it’s not!”
“No seriously, Death is cool,” Joy says, casually looking through your cabinetry for a mug, “If he comes around, I’ll let him know you’ve got wishes left and he’ll be like, ‘No big D, Joy. Wanna get churros sometime?’ I’ll obviously take him up on it and you can fuck your harem, if you wish for a harem, while I’m out pretending some churros are necessary to save you from an early grave.”
“You know the grim reaper?”
Joy runs some cold tap water into your mug, dips your tea bag into it, and it’s suddenly boiling. “Ugh. Don’t remind me about those guys. No, I know Death.”
“Uh, can I wish for immortality? It’s not against the rules and suddenly feels applicable.”
“Oof. Yeah, you ain’t gonna want to wish for that. Anyway, you wanted to fuck me again, right? Over the table again, or do you want to take it to the bedroom?” She sips on her tea. “Oh shit, that’s good stuff… We could go somewhere more exotic if you’re feeling adventurous.”
You look Joy up and down. She’s way more lackadaisical about everything than you’d expect from a woman roaming your kitchen in the nude.
Options:
You wanna know what’s so bad about immortality versus death.
Nope. Nope. You just want to go to the bedroom to keep fucking.
Joy’s not acting especially slave-like! Tell her to take you seriously!
How about going somewhere exotic? As long as it won’t burn a wish.
Speaking of wishes, make one that she’s not going to reject already!
… Just fuck her on the table again.
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More cod incorrect quotes
A/N: There is an obvious pattern cause I used a generator lmao anyway
C/W: uh swearing? i think thats it for once
Ghost: Favourite horror movie?
Soap: It
Price: Saw
Gaz: Annabelle
R/n: High School Musical. after watching it I spent all my middle school years terrified that the entire school would start singing something and I’d be the only one who didn’t know the lyrics
-
Price: You're a loose cannon, Ghost.
Ghost: No, I'm not. I'm a cannon maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?
Soap: I think you play by your own rules.
Gaz: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.
Price: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.
Ghost: No, I'm just a reckless renegade. R/n is a loose cannon.
R/n: *smashes a chair*
-
Price: Good morning.
Ghost: Good morning.
Soap: Good morning.
Gaz: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.
R/n: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS
-
Price: Where's Ghost, Soap, and Gaz?
R/n: They're playing hide and seek.
Price: Where?
R/n: I don't think you get how this game works.
-
Price: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?
Ghost: Several traffic violations.
Soap: Three counts of resisting arrest.
Gaz: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.
R/n: Also, that’s not our car.
-
Price: Nothing in life is free.
Ghost: Love is free!
Soap: Adventure is free.
Gaz: Knowledge is free.
R/n: Everything is free if you take it without paying.
-
R/n: We need more help. Maybe I should call my friends.
Ghost: ... Your what?
R/n: My friends.
Price: Are they saying “friends”?
Gaz: I think they're being sarcastic.
Soap: No, no, no, this is delirium, they've cracked from being awake all night. Hey, R/n! All of your friends are in this room.
R/n: I have other friends! You asked me to make new friends, I made new friends! It was a task. I complete tasks.
-
Price: Good responses for being stabbed with a knife?
Gaz: Rude.
Soap: That’s fair.
Ghost: Not again.
R/n: Are you going to want this back? Or can I keep it?
-
R/n: Is having a penis fun?
Ghost: It has its ups and downs.
Soap: Sometimes it’s a little hard.
Gaz: It’s a pain in the ass.
R/n: Oh, Jesus, fuck, guys, come on.
-
Gaz: That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!
Price: To the city?
Gaz: Yeah, no matter what!
R/n: Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?
Gaz: I... I don't know!
Ghost: Oh come off it, be serious!
Gaz: I am serious!
Ghost: You're insane!
Soap: Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!
Everyone:
Price: What???
Soap: Or maybe it was a basset hound!
R/n: no no maybe Soap is onto something..
Ghost, panicked: YOU'RE ALL INSANE!
-
Price: We’ve been conducting an ongoing study to see what R/n will and will not eat.
Ghost: Grass? Yes!
Price: Moss? Yes!!
Ghost: Leaves? Ohh, yes!
Price: Shoelaces? Strange but true!
Ghost: Worms? Sometimes!
Price: Rocks? Usually not.
Ghost: Twigs? Usually!
Price: Soap's cooking? Inconclusive!
Gaz: How did you… test this?
Price: You just hand them stuff and say ‘eat this’ and if they eat it, they eat it.
Gaz: ... I don’t know how to feel about this.
Soap: IS THAT WHERE ALL MY SPARE SHOELACES WENT?
-
Price: Are we really going to let R/n keep the cat?
Gaz: Hey we kept R/n.
-
Price: Why isn’t the statue smirking at me?
Ghost: It isn’t smirking at anyone, they’re all just imagining it.
Price: Three of us saw it, Ghost. How do you explain that?
Ghost: *points at Soap* Sleep deprivation. *points at Gaz* Paranoia. *points at R/n* Delusional personality disorder.
-
Price, trying to convince R/n to join the task force: You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone alongside us who's really... smart!
Gaz: And loud!
Soap: And grumpy!
Ghost: And oblivious to reality
R/n:
-
Price: Bridge the generation gap by combining old and new slang into one!
Gaz: Tubular AF!
Soap: Mood to the max!
Ghost, annoyed: Groovy, I hate it.
R/n, just as annoyed: If she breathes, she’s a square.
Price: Tf
-
Price: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the items you have lost throughout your life
Ghost: Self-esteem, haven't seen you in years
Soap: Oh wow, my innocence! Thank you for finding this!
Gaz: I knew I lost that potential somewhere!
R/n: My entire childhood and happiness, is that you?
Price:
Price: I was just gonna show you this cool trunk my mother left me but do you guys need a hug?
-
Price: What does 'take out' mean?
Soap: Food
Gaz: Dating
Ghost: Murder.
R/n: IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A LIL BITCH.
-
Price: Anyone d-
Ghost: Depressed?
Gaz: Drained?
Soap: Dumb?
R/n: Done with life?
Price: -done with their work... need to get Laswell to get you all therapy …
-
Price: So uhhh... question: my ‘friend’ keeps on going into the pantry and grabbing handfuls of fettuccine... uncooked...
Gaz: I would hope they're not grabbing handfuls of cooked fettuccine!
Soap: In your pantry!
Price: Yeah... and eating them raw, and they keep calling them 'chips'. ... How do I make them stop?
Ghost: Is your friend here?
Price, motioning to R/n: Yeah.
Gaz, to R/n: You're a monster! Words MEAN things! >:(
Soap: Does anybody remember- I haven't been to Olive Garden in many moons- but they DO have a like- fettuccine bottle that you can just- grab em out of and chew-
Soap: HOLD ON. WAS THIS A PRANK YOU GUYS PULLED ON ME WHEN WE WENT TO OLIVE GARDEN AFTER THAT MISSION?!
Soap: NO, STOP. EVERYBODY SHUT UP. DO THEY GIVE YOU RAW FETTUCCINE TO CHEW ON IN THE LOBBY OF THE OLIVE GARDEN
Everyone else: No.
Soap, to Gaz and R/n: YOU FUCKIN BASTARDS
Gaz: YAAAAAAAAY!
R/n: THE PRESTIGE!
-
Price: What did you guys get in your yearbook?
Gaz: 'Prettiest Smile'
Soap: 'Nicest Personality'
Ghost: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'
R/n: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'
-
Price: What if the person who named Walkie Talkies named everything?
Soap: Pregnancy tests are Maybe Babies
R/n: Socks are Feetie Heaties
Gaz: Forks are Stabby Grabbies
Soap: Defibrillators are Heartie Starties
R/n: Nightmares are Dreamy Screamies
Gaz: Stamps are Lickie Stickies
Ghost, annoyed: You are disappointments
Price to Ghost: You agreed to join the team.
-
Soap: I’m an idiot.
Ghost:
Price:
Gaz:
R/n:
Soap:
R/n: If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.
This stupid long omg, uh anyway I used a incorrect quote generator cause I'm lazy but edited most of them so the make some more sense :>
#cod incorrect quotes#call of duty incorrect quotes#call of duty modern warfare#cod#call of duty#cod modern warfare#call of duty meme#cod mw2 ghost#cod mw2 price#cod mw2 soap#cod mw2 gaz#cod x reader#x reader#x male readder#x gn reader#call of duty x reader#cod x reader headcannons#cod x reader meme#cod mw2 x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#simon 'ghost' riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#captain john price
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