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fictionalmenmakemecry · 4 months

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Pretty Little Outfit

Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)

Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.

Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.

A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.

Anyway.. my rant is done!

Enjoy :)

"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.

You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.

You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.

You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.

You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.

"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.

You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.

You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.

You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.

"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.

His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.

Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.

You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.

Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.

He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.

The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.

He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.

You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.

"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.

You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.

"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.

The more he stared, the shyier you got.

"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"

You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.

A small smirk crept up on your face.

Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.

You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.

"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.

He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.

You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.

With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.

He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.

You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.

"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.

He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.

"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously

His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.

"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.

"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.

You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.

A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.

He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.

"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.

"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.

"But-"

"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.

He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.

His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.

"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.

You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.

He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.

"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.

"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.

One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.

Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.

You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.

Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.

Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.

"Use me." He breathed out

You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.

"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.

"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.

He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.

A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.

Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.

His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.

"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.

You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.

You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.

He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.

With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.

You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.

"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.

He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.

"Carrmmyy-"

"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.

You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.

"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.

He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.

You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.

"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.

He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.

As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.

The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.

Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.

As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.

"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.

"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.

You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.

"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,

"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.

"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.

"Uh.. Most likely"

He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.

"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.

"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling

A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.

"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.

He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.

You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.

"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.

Masterlist of fics

#fanfic #fluff #smut #fanfiction #love #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff #carmy x reader #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmen x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto smut #jeremy allen white #the bear fanfiction #the bear fic #the bear fx

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thatonebabybat · 6 months

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Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

youtube

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

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a-very-tired-jew · 3 months

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Sad Realization and Confirmation - we're in hiding

I was coming home from work last night and had the realization that I had not seen any of the Chabad students walking across campus as I normally do until that moment. The student was not even dressed in the regular attire of a Chabad member, but in "normal" clothing. Their yamulke had been replaced by a baseball hat and they were wearing a Hawaiian shirt and jeans. Gone was the white button down and black slacks, let alone the tallit being worn underneath. It then hit me that I hadn't seen any of them since about late October / early November and that they likely had all switched to wearing less obviously Jew identifying clothing. I am a secular Jew that grew up in the Reconstructionist movement. While I don't wear anything that makes me stand out as a Jew, nor do I have much of my identity wrapped around clothing associated with my ethnicity, I do get recognized as one for my phenotypic expression. For the Chabad students the clothing is part of who they are. They are hiding it now because it's simply not safe. The fact that this echoes what I have seen across the internet about Jews hiding to be safe hit me like a ton of bricks. This isn't something we should have to do in 2024, but here we are. I went to the FB page of our local group as well and noticed that the attire had even changed in the safety of their own facility. So yeah...that's what we've come to. Jewish students who can't be outwardly Jewish because anti-Zionism is just a dogwhistle to go after us. It does not matter if you are not going after Jews, there is such a significant amount of threatening rhetoric that we as a people are going back to our old survival methods.

#antisemitism #leftist #leftist antisemitism #activism #jew #judaism #hiding from antisemites again

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prettygiri222 · 5 months

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Hi baby idk if ur requests are on but can u pls do a black reader who doesn’t have a lot of ass (baby I be reading these fanfics (not urs) and it always has black women with fat ass and big boobs and I’m like 😔 that ain’t me) and who doesn’t smoke, with like anyone but maybe wit eren or Connie, thank you sm girl and even if u don’t do this I appreciate u reading this hottie.

Girl I feel you, my shit not the fattest either but I do smoke myself so that's why it's present in some of my stories😭

Connie x Black Fem Reader SMUT

“stop playing with me mama,” Connie quickly ushered your naked bodies into his bedroom. clothes lost from the heated makeout session that took place on the leather couch in the living room. the movie playing long forgotten on the flat-screen TV. “get on the bed.”

“ah!” you let out a little gasp when he brought his large hands down and delivered a slight slap to your ass. excited for what was coming next you let out a little giggle as you crawled onto the bed. you got into position as you always did, missionary. with you on your back and pulling back your legs so they rested near your head.

Connie loved being able to see your pretty face scrunch up in pleasure. the way your eyes crossed when a particularly strong orgasm raked through your body. the access he had to play with your small tits, his huge hands dwarfing them. he loved the way you clenched extra hard when he tweaked or sucked on your nipples leaving them puffy and sore in the morning.

your slacked jaw gives Connie free entry to your mouth to spit and suck on your tongue, mixing saliva. you're left breathless, gasping for air unable to kiss him back with moans being forced out into his mouth by his deep strokes. or when halfway you would give up on holding your leg and clutch onto him for dear life. your smaller body jostling against his sweaty one as he pounded into your pussy, basically drowning in your slick.

but today he wanted to try something different.

“can you get on your hands and knees for me please?” your boyfriend asked, staring intently at you from above. your cunt was already glistening from just making out but he was no better. his dick was standing at attention between his legs just waiting to find its way inside you.

“ok…” you meekly replied wanting to please your boyfriend. you slowly dragged yourself into the new position. the arch you presented to your boyfriend was utterly pathetic. you felt embarrassed feeling more exposed despite holding yourself open for him only a few moments ago.

“you can do better than that,” Connie said. you felt him nudge his dick against your soaking cunt.

“I can't” you let your head fall against the mattress. god, this was so humiliating. until now Connie never mentioned anything about wanting to try doggy style but you hated it. always jumping into a position that allowed the two of you to be face to face. you loved the sight of Connie above you. his happy trail that led to a sharp v-line, the way his abs flexed after every thrust made you so wet and his caring eyes that watched your every move to see how you would react. a cute way to tell that Connie was close was the way his pink lips quivered faster the closer he got to his orgasm.

but the underlying reason you preferred missionary above all was because anytime you watched porn you noticed how in every video the girls in doggy always had the fattest asses, something you didn’t have. but it wasn’t something that made you self-conscious. you just didn’t think you would enjoy it as much cause of it.

you loved your smaller body and showing it off. like earlier today, you were wearing a tight baby tee and your favourite pair of low waisted jeans that showed off your deep back dimples. Connie could not keep his hands off you, they trailed your exposed skin before pulling at your belt loops. it was his signal that he wanted them off.

Connie on the other hand didn’t mind indulging in your love for missionary. seeing his girl happy and fucked out made him feel good but he felt like he wasn’t able to give you all he had. Connie's dick wasn't the biggest but it was really thick and girthy with a downward curve due to how heavy it hung.

what he noticed after prodding around at your insides with his fingers and memorizing all your soft spots was that your most sensitive spot was upwards, toward your stomach. so in missionary he could only brush it and not abuse it how he wanted.

wanting to hear no more of your complaints Connie took matters into his own hands. he grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed where he was standing. before you could turn and see what he was doing he pressed his hand in between your shoulder blades and forced you down face first into the mattress. “oh sweetie, but you can”

your newfound arch was delicious. your upper body was pressed flat against the bed creating a deep curve in your spine that led to your ass that was being held up by Connie. you turned your head to the side so you could breathe

“look at you, so talented,” he praised, marvelling at your body. it was amazing how you could take his dick like a fucking champ yet you were so tiny compared to him. his huge hands swallowed each of your asscheeks as he kneaded them while teasing the tip of his dick against your slicked hole.

“I'm going in,” your boyfriend gave you a brief warning to prepare for the stretch but you weren't ready. you're so used to his curve going down towards your spine so feeling it go up into your tummy was new.

“oh my goddd” you whined out. he bottomed out quickly, his tip kissing your cervix. you instinctively pulled away from him already feeling overwhelmed.

“where you going ma?” Connie stuck his thumbs into your back dimples to give him some leverage. he easily pulled you back onto his dick. you let out a cry as he forced himself inside. “you feeling me deep inside?”

“yeaaa,” the wet squelching sounds of your pussy coating his dick could be heard. some of your wetness dripped down your thighs. after each thrust you could feel yourself being stretched out to fit his size. “all in my tummy pa”

the view Connie had was amazing. he spread your brown cheeks so he could watch himself slide in and out of your tiny cunt, the pink of your pussy appearing when he pulled out. he watched as your creamy paste began to coat his dick. pap! pap! pap! it was like music to his ears.

you were already soaking wet, the sheets underneath where you two connected was drenched and turning darker in colour. so for the pure obscenity of it Connie spat on the shaft of his dick. he groaned watching as your hole greedily slurped it up along with his dick.

“you hear that mama?” pap! pap! pap! Connie gave you a second to listen to the sounds your body was making. it was straight-up pornographic. “that’s how you know I’m hitting it right.”

“uhuhuh” your boyfriend was showing you what you were missing out all this time during missionary. his cock struck the same spot each time. it felt so good that it was starting to hurt.

the force of Connie's pelvis slapping against your ass was enough to send you flying forward every thrust. and each time he pulled you back like you were a fucking ragdoll. you couldn't do anything but take everything he was giving you.

you reached out to trying to grab something, whether it was the sheets, his arm, the bedframe, you just needed something to brace yourself. Connie watched as your tiny hands struggled to grasp at his sheets.

your poor pussy was going to be bruised in the morning from how rough Connie was being. once he found your sweet spot he didn't let up, the intensity he was pounding at it was insane. he didn’t let up, not that you would allow him to either.

each time Connie pulled out your pussy just sucked him back in. pap! pap! pap! the sight and the sounds you were making had his dick twitching, aching for release. and your cunt felt like heaven, all warm and wet. he wasn’t going to last any longer in this position. “ma, I'm so close.” he groaned.

“me to me to” you moaned out against the bed. the growing feeling in your stomach was about to burst. your legs shook like a fawn taking its first steps. you sunk further into the bed arching deeper into Connie needing just a bit more. his tip reaching your cervix was the final push, “m’cumming” you whined out.

you pressed your face into the sheets when the overwhelming feeling hit you. Connie let out a low whimper feeling you clenched tightly around his cock stopping him in his tracks. unable to pull out he was forced to release inside you, painting your insides.

“knew your lil ass would love it.” he chuckled watching you twitch underneath him. he waited until your sopping cunt stopped spasming around his dick. one you both finished your orgasms he pulled out watching as his cum mixed with your fluids spilled out of your quivering hole.

hope this was to your liking <3 my requests are open but I'll do another post on that later

#anime smut #aot smut #x black reader #aot x black reader #black reader smut #black y/n #aot #connie smut #connie x black reader #connie springer #connie x reader smut #connie x

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another-lost-mc · 10 months

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I'd totally make the brothers wear pink dresses to the barbie movie. Or fluffy skirts, whichever one they want lol

There is fanart inspired by these little headcanons! You can check them out on @/divinity-infinity's page here!

"You'll 'make me,' will you?" Good luck trying to get Lucifer to wear a pink dress or skirt if he's not in the mood, especially if the entire group is going. However, he will opt to wear a pale pink button-down shirt and cream-coloured linen slacks instead because he doesn’t want to disappoint you too much.

Mammon will stammer that he already bought an outfit that looks like something Ken wears in the trailer. “Not that I was countin’ on ya dressin’ up like Barbie with me, but you might as well, right?”

Levi already has his cosplay hanging in his closet, complete with a blonde wig. He bought them as soon as you showed him the trailer (and he bought the presale tickets). If you don’t have something to wear already, he just happened to pick up a matching outfit for you too.

Satan follows Lucifer’s approach, but he opts for a bright pink shirt because he’s not a coward like his brother is.

Asmo has his outfit already too, but unlike Levi’s, his is a sophisticated pink dress complete with very expensive jewelry, hair accessories, and heels. (He also volunteered to paint everyone’s nails pink a day or two before the movie, and most of them agreed.)

Beel wears a hot pink muscle shirt that he pairs with white shorts. He also finds a pair of white and pink sneakers from the back of his closet that look practically brand new. That’s probably the best you can hope for.

Belphie yawns and says he’ll wear whatever you pick out for him. He didn’t think you’d hand him a puffy pink skirt and a white crop top, but he puts them on without much fussing. He doesn’t want to disappoint you (and skirts are nice for easy access later).

Diavolo buys a hot pink suit with Asmo’s help, and he managed to hide it from Barbatos until the day of the movie.

Barbatos scolds his young master for his foolishness, even though he pretends he didn’t make himself a new pink changshan and robe to wear for the occasion.

Simeon and Luke are dressed like Ken and Barbie—Luke looks completely adorable in his pink hat and shorts, and he even has a little pink bow tie. The crowd at the movie can't stop gushing over how cute he is, but he's too excited to notice.

Solomon shows up in a sheer pink top and skinny jeans. You’re positive that Asmo helped him pick it out.

Obey Me! Masterlist | Related reading:

When They Go to the Movies [ fluffy headcanons ] When Movies Make Them Cry [ hurt/comfort/fluffy headcanons ]

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 8 months

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Better Man

Summary:Jason fucks up one to many times, luckily there is Eddie who is happy to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: Older Eddie x Reader. (reader is in her 20's, Eddie is thirty eight) age gap, 18 + Minors shoo! Kinda mean Eddie, then Soft Eddie. Modern fic.

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Jason was such a loser. He had been caught flirting with a few girls at the Halloween party they had attended together and you had left him.

Finally.

It had been weeks of making up, breaking up and just a plain, toxic vibe. You deserved better and wanted out.

You went to the one person who you knew would understand. Who could make it better. Who pleasured you, fulfilled you in ways that Jason could never ever do

Eddie.

He opens the door to his trailer and your stomach flips, filling with butterflies at the sight of him.

Fuck, he was so sexy.

His hair is in a messy bun, he's shirtless, wearing slacks and there's a smirk on his face.

"Hey pretty girl" his brown eyes rake over your body and you shiver in excitement.

"Hi" you're breathless with anticipation, knowing what the night entails. Knowing its Eddie you really want and not Jason dickhead Carver.

"The dickhead mess up again?" you nod and feel shy under his scrutinizing gaze. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and cocks his eyebrow.

"We're done"

"The boy can't satisfy you so you coming running to me again princess?" he tsks and you pause, unsure if he wants you here.

Maybe he has another woman over? You weren't exclusive or anything. Even though you had fallen quickly for Eddie, the two of you only started as a casual hook up.

Eddie's uncle was friends with your family, that's how you got to know Eddie. His reputation proceeded him, he was hot as fuck, had women wrapped around his finger and he knew it.

One look in his big doe brown eyes and you found it hard not to melt, you resisted. Just barely.

The thought of someone with him made your stomach ache, your heart clench.

"Do you want me to go? If you have someone with you, I don't want to interrupt" his features soften and he chuckles.

"I see that look in your eyes sweetheart, you jealous of all that shit?" you look away, shrugging and he tugs the waistband of your jeans so your close to him.

"I like when you're jealous sweet girl, gets me all fucking hot" he kisses you before you can respond and leads you to his bedroom.

❤️

Eddie has your arms pinned above your head, there's a mean, mocking smile on his face.

"So Carver couldn't satisfy you princess and you come to me" he teases as he thrusts inside you hard.

"Eddie, please, need you" You moan and he begins to move, slowly.

"You just love when my cock is buried in you huh? Such a greedy, greedy girl" he mocks as he drags his thrusts out until your a mewling mess underneath him.

He wants you to beg, you refuse to give in but the ache you feel is growing stronger.

"Eddie" you whine and he moves a little faster this time.

"Uh, uh princess. You're being so rude. I didn't hear please" he coos and you huff, desperate for release and begin to grind yourself against him, gritting out "please" as you do so.

His eyes fill with lust and he moves faster, hips snapping against yours as you both move together.

"You feel so fucking good sweetheart, tight. Mine"

The sensations going through your body is delicious and by the time you reach your climax, you're screaming into Eddie's shoulder, legs shaking from how intense the orgasm was.

Eddie soon follows, spilling into you. His hand gripping yours and an awed look on his face, he slowly pulls out and lays beside you.

You lay together for a moment before he speaks, his fingers caressing your hair.

"There's no one else princess, not for a while. Only you" it answers your question and at the same time your heart is racing as you think of the implications on what he said.

He presses a kiss to your lips and takes his sweet ass time, kissing every inch of your body as he makes his way down to the apex of your thighs.

Before you can ask about what he said your phone lights up with a call. Ugh. Jason.

Eddie's eyes darken and he glares at the phone.

"Answer it" he tells you and continues teasing near your clit. You pout.

"Do I have to? I think I gave the asshole the message earlier. I wish he'd leave me alone"

Wasn't dumping your drink on him and giving his cocky, condescending face a slap enough of a message? It certainly was a cathartic moment for you.

You answer the phone and immediately Jason is yelling and belittling you, Eddie stills when he hears Jason yelling at you.

"Will you fuck off Jason. I told you we're done for good" You snap at him losing patience.

"Tell him to talk nicer to you or I'll knock his teeth down his throat" Eddie growls and the protectiveness in his tone makes you feel all warm and fuzzy.

"Who's that? You bitch!" Jason yells and Eddie gestures for the phone, which you give to him curious at what he will say.

"Listen here dickhead. She's not interested, Infact, I'm currently between her thighs and making her scream, which is more than a limp dick fuck like you ever could"

Jason goes silent. You can almost picture that agog expression on his face.

"Eddie Munson. She's fucking you?" he squeals and Eddie smiles.

"Let's get this straight here Carver, she is my girl. I don't like to share, fuck off and stop bothering her or I will be very pissed off and have to tell you in person. Wouldn't want you to shit your pants or anything. We clear?"

Jason gulps. "Crystal" Jason hangs up and you dissolve into giggles and sit up, leaning over to kiss Eddie.

"That was kinda hot. Also I'm your girl?" you say teasing him but full of hope and he kisses you, leaving you a little breathless.

"I want to be with you sweetheart. You've gone and stolen my heart. I adore you and I'll treat you better than that Carver idiot ever could"

Thrilled you kiss him, nodding happily and his arms wrap around yours as you cuddle into him and he kisses your forehead.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #mean eddie #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #older eddie munson

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lovebugism · 1 year

Text

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ We Fight to Make Up

summary: after a run-in with your ex, steve's anger gets the best of him. sometimes you think he picks a fight just for the make up sex. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 7.6k warnings: smut, steve calls himself daddy once, briefly mentioned breeding kink, a touch of angst, insecure!steve, also steve with scruff because that needs a warning too, 18+ mdni a/n: ok i'm not the happiest with this but it's been sitting in my drafts for so long and she needs to see the world now so.. enjoy? <3

You don’t go out anymore. None of the party does, really.

Fighting through the end of the world and somehow surviving for three years straight made bars and clubs and getting drunk seem a little less important. It gets too easy to stay within the inner circle that’s seen the same sort of hell you’ve seen.

Eventually, time goes on and you don’t realize that you’ve only been around the same ten people until the thought of going to the grocery store alone sounds scary.

Fighting monsters, weathering alternate dimensions, beating up Russians soldiers — that’s cake. It’s the getting back to normal that’s so hard.

That's a bitter pill to swallow. None of you got to have too much of a childhood before the knowledge of a sentient darkness swirling beneath your feet turned everything upside down (no pun intended). A life with a regular routine unbound by the impending doom of an armageddon is hard to go back to, when fighting to stay alive is all you’ve ever done.

You try really hard, though. All of you do.

The kids try to find a nostalgic amusement in the arcade they used to frequent while grappling with the fact that they’ll never been those kids again. The older group of you dabbles in the simple pleasure of growing up and discovering what adulthood really means — getting drunk and going dancing just because you can, but facing the inevitable consequences of those actions all on your own.

The six of you find a certain solace at the Limelight. For Steve and Jonathan, they serve good beer — obviously cheap and unusually tangy on the tongue, but nice and cold nonetheless. For Eddie and Robin, there’s a karaoke machine and a stage across the bar, complete with every rock ballad imaginable. You and Nancy take special interest in the dance floor — a platform with light-up rainbow squares for all your drunken twirling needs.

It’s a nice place. More than that, it’s a familiar one. Eventually, going there every friday night is like comfort food in the belly, pleasant and warm. Steve feels safe there when he’s with all of you and tonight he’s especially fuzzy with a quiet sort of happiness that’s got his cheeks all pink.

Maybe the beer is partly to blame.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve got your hand tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, anchoring yourself to him and simultaneously fending off any unwanted attention from the scantily clad women around you who can't seem to take their eyes away from your Steve.

But he only watches you as you smile into your glass while Eddie Munson, all sweaty after his Madison Square Garden worthy rendition of Total Eclipse of the Heart, tells some stupidly unfunny joke. You’re pressed contently into his side, like you would melt into him if you could, and he’s buzzing with the comfort of your warmth and the chemically induced mellow from the drink in his cup.

It was a good night. An easy one. A fun one.

And then it just… wasn’t.

When your ex waltzes into the bar, he brings the cold air in with him and an unusual sophisticated energy that’s typically foreign to this side of town. He’s got on a gray corduroy blazer and slacks to match. The black turtle neck he wears beneath it clings to his lean torso and broad chest, like he wants people to marvel at how muscular he is.

You don’t even realize it’s him at first. You turn to Nancy to talk shit about the douchebag at your eight o’clock that just walked in while the guy settles at the far end of the bar, around the corner that faces the group of you. He removes the dark Ray-Bans from the straight bridge of his nose and uses them to push back his cinnamon-colored curls.

Steve feels you tense at his side then. You duck inside yourself and force him and Robin to form a makeshift shield around you.

It’s a tad too dramatic for two people who ended on pretty decent terms. It was about as amicable as a breakup can be — you were both seventeen and thankfully already mature enough to know that the relationship wasn’t bound to make it outside of high school. So you split up in search of more fulfilling things.

You found yours, in Steve and in the rest of the party. And by the looks of it — the obviously expensive suit and the silver Rolex glittering under the dim yellow bar light — he found his.

You aren’t exactly sure how, but he sees you.

Probably because Robin couldn’t stop ogling at him from over her shoulder, obviously not getting the hint to act casual and inevitably dragging his attention over to the group of you.

He’s confused by the attention at first and then beaming when he notices you. The man flashes a set of pearly whites beneath a plump pink grin, all but shoving through the crowded bar to come and meet you.

Steve is able to get a better look at him when he’s no more than a couple inches away. The guy wrenches you away from him to wrap you in a friendly embrace, smiling like a ray of a thousands suns while he laughs with a hearty mirth.

A childlike and terribly jealous scowl settles upon Steve's features as his stomach wrenches something fierce. This stranger is touching you, and he hates that he’s touching you, but it’s more than that.

Steve’s almost certain this is what he would look like if he hadn’t been through the end of the world. The ornate suit and sunglasses worth more than most people’s salaries could’ve been his. In another life, he could’ve been this pretty and perfect and pure.

But, instead, here he is — dressed in an aged Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt and hand-me-down jeans that are frayed at the hems. There are bits of dried blood on the knee that he can’t get out. He isn’t quite sure if it’s his or if it belongs to one of the three varying monsters he’s been face-to-face with over the years.

His hair is pushed back and visibly un-styled, fluffier than usual because it hasn’t been washed in a while. And only now does he notice the prickly layer of scruff itching at his jaw and above his lip because the effort to shave is just too much sometimes.

He wishes he had, though. Now, he wants to completely perfect his appearance and change his life entirely — all at the sight of some stranger he didn't know existed before now.

The man introduces himself to the rest of the group when he parts from you — Todd.

Because of coursehis name is Todd.

No one says that out loud, of course, but you do share pairs of knowing looks. Eddie’s the only one brave enough, or rather drunk enough, to take the piss out of the guy.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed for Limelight?” he asks before laughing into his beer.

The rhetorical question leads to the man, Todd, to start complaining about work — how he’s making more than he knows what to do with, that the lifestyle isn’t as lavish as everyone made it out to be, that work is his best friend most days because he doesn’t have time for real relationships anymore.

And it doesn’t sound braggy. This isn't some rich guy complaining about all the money he has. He’s genuine, and that’s somehow even worse.

Steve can tell he’s working for some big four accounting firm without him having to say it. He can practically smell it all over the guy. Todd’s just got that air about him, that he’s got an office on the fiftieth story with large glass windows that span from the floor to the ceiling. He’s making well into the six-figures if that’s the case. Just like his goddamn dad.

Just like he would be if the endless cycling of fighting hadn’t stripped him flesh from bone.

Steve forces himself to shove that thought to the back of his mind.

“You know I’ve actually been thinking about, you know, just dropping everything. Putting in my two weeks and fucking off to France,” Todd admits. His eyes sparkle like a pair of fucking diamonds when they lock in on you. “Like we always used to talk about.”

That was your dream. The kind of reverie that wasn’t at all practical or the least bit tangible, but the kind you fantasized about nonetheless.

And here this asshole goes, living it for the both of you.

You’re grinning at him anyway, patting him on the shoulder while you congratulate him. You tell him he should do it. That he deserves it.

Steve, meanwhile, is so angry he can feel the prickle of the red-hot rage on his skin, like so many little needles. It’s a simmering heat for now, all slow and lazy. The longer he holds it in, the more likely he is to pop into a full boil. He knows that. But he keeps the fire in his chest and wallows in that high-pitched ache.

Todd leaves not too long after. Makes it a point not to overstay his welcome. He’s polite when he goes, making sure to talk to all your friends even though he didn’t exactly come for them — he compliments Eddie’s leather jacket and Robin’s taste in style, Jonathan and Nancy are both blushing pink when he praises their work with the local paper. He says something to Steve he can’t quite register because he’s too busy fuming.

The brunette girl beside him is practically swooning, and he has to remind her — “Robin, you’re gay.”

The man was kind, terribly so, the sort of politeness you can’t help but notice and marvel at, like a pretty pebble you’ve found on the ground. He didn’t overstep any boundaries with you either, like he respected that you two were practically strangers now — fucking asshole — and whether or not he knew you were with Steve, he kept a chivalrous distance anyway.

He must’ve known, though, he did have eyes after all. There’s no way he missed the way Steve had been looming over you the whole time. Or the possessive arm he had around your shoulder. Or the stern chocolate gaze that had ping-ponged between you and him the entire conversation.

When he leaves, there’s nothing to talk shit about or make fun of him for. Not only is that really fucking annoying, but it’s boring, and it leaves you and Steve as the punching bags for all their stupid jokes.

“You certainly have a type, don’t ya, doll?” Eddie teases you as he reaches behind Nancy to shove at your shoulder. “Steve’s practically a carbon copy of that douchebag.”

“Holy shit, I can see it now,” Robin marvels breathlessly. Her deep ocean gaze is still locked on Todd across the bar. He’s minding his own business now, ordering another drink, while the rest of you can’t seem to stop talking about him. She turns back to Steve, her eyes flitting over his features like it’s the first time she’s seeing them while she puts the pieces of a puzzle together.

“But, Steve’s like the dollar store version of him, though, right?” she wonders rhetorically and then feels the need to explain herself when Steve furrows his brows at her. “—Because, you know… he’s a lot richer than you are…”

The boy rolls his and brings the beer back to his lips. The clarification makes it sting more.

“Thanks, Rob.”

Steve isn’t quite sure what’s got him seething. He’s the personification of a forest fire now — scorching, raging, and deadly — without a reason to be. It’s entirely likely you’ll never see Todd ever again. He lives in the city these days and he just told you that he was planning on moving to fucking France.

But these facts don’t mean as much to him when he knows that the guy isn’t totally over you.

Steve knows Todd would be more than happy to take you out for coffee tomorrow morning to tie up any left-behind loose ends. He’s a rich guy going through a quarter-life crisis (Steve knows a little about what that’s like, too), he’d be more than happy to sweep an old ex-girlfriend off her feet and take her all the way to France with him. She’d need only to ask him to.

Maybe that’s what angers him. There’s a man, all rich and pretty and unscathed by war, that might love you like he does.

The wildfire in his chest grows. It’s a wonder it hasn't seared a hole in the fabric of his sweatshirt. And it burns. It leaves aching blisters on his skin like it’s the real damn thing. It’s like punches to the face, worse than every time he’s ever been beaten up combined.

He manages to keep the ashes of himself together. It's the least he can do for the rest of you, who obviously aren’t as bothered by Todd’s lingering presence and have since moved on to things more meaningful.

It wouldn’t be fair to project his ache onto you.

You guys don’t get too many nights like this, with work and school and lingering bouts of PTSD — who’s he to ruin this night for everyone else when he’s the problem?

But if any of you notice his simmering anger, you don’t show it.

He isn’t sure if that makes him feel better or not.

Nancy and Jonathan stay no longer than fifteen minutes after the fact. “We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” the say with a shrug, though everyone knows what that’s code for. Robin makes kissing noises at them as they make their exit.

Now, the brunette girl stands in front of the stage that Eddie parades on. He belts “If you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever!” into the microphone for the hundredth time. She cheers for the boy like it’s the first time she’s ever heard the stupid song.

The bartender hands you two drinks, a couple of Sex on the Beach’s for you and Robin to try.

She hadn’t stopped talking about it since she spotted it on the menu even though she hates peach schnapps. You tell Steve you’re going to run it to her and that you bet she won’t make it through one sip without gagging. You also promise that you’ll try and pull Eddie away from the stage when the Bonnie Tyler song fades and then inevitably loops again.

He only nods and mumbles a vague affirmative under his breath. He doesn’t even look at you. Just stares down at his empty glass of beer and draws patterns on the cloudy cup with his finger.

It’s hard not to notice his uncharacteristically long silence.

He hasn’t been King Steve for quite some time, but that version of him always manages to peek out after a couple of drinks. He gets loud and brash and smiley and stupid. It makes the quiet demeanor he possesses now that much more daunting. Like a flag he’s waving to make sure everyone else knows that he’s upset about something or other.

Eventually, it makes you burst.

“Is something wrong?” you blurt.

He finally glances at you then. And has the gall to look confused. “What?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. You shift your weight on your feet and try to ignore the distant stinging of the ice glasses in your hand, how the cold of them shoots pins and needles into your palms. “You’re just… being really quiet.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses with a shrug of his own. A hint of a smile flashes at the very corner of his mouth before he brings his drink to his lips. He swallows down the rest of it in one quick gulp. You watch anxiously as he waves to the bartender for another.

“We can go home if you want—”

“Jesus, I’m fine,” he interjects. The laugh that spills from his throat borders on annoyance. “Just go get the freak before he drives me crazy.”

With that, the two of you part ways. You, with the knowledge that something’s wrong with your boyfriend but having no way to make it better because he won’t tell you anything. And Steve, with another irrational reason to be angry at the world because how do you not get it?

If his ex-girlfriend showed up to a bar, looking like an airbrushed model with more money than all of you combined who’s got brains and wit and humility, he’d want you to get a little fucking jealous too.

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. But he chooses to wallow in his anger than reflect on it, anyway. He takes pity on himself and makes everyone else out to be the enemy. Like he does best.

Even hours later, when he’s sobering up with room temperature water and a bowl of pretzels — and you’re calling a cab for a significantly drunker Eddie and Robin — he still feels the sting.

He makes sure you know it too.

The drive back home is uncomfortably quiet, which wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if he at least had the radio on. But when he stuck the key into the ignition and music started blaring from the speakers (because he forget to turn it down beforehand), he turns it off completely. You feel to awkward to touch it.

“Do you, uh… Do you wanna talk about it now?” you ask him.

You’re unfamiliarly timid with him as you peer at him through your lashes. It’s like you’re looking at the sun, the way you have to glance at him from the corner of your eye so he won’t blind you. And it isn’t because of his usually sunny disposition because, somewhere along the course of the night, his shine got snuffed out. It’s because he’s practically lit himself on fire with his anger where he sits next to you.

And he still has the nerve to shake his head. “Talk about what? I told you, there’s nothing wrong,” he dismisses with one hand in a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and the other resting its elbow against the driver’s side door while his fingers pick anxiously at his lower lip. Nothing wrong, my ass.

“Are we seriously gonna play that game tonight?”

“What game?” he scoffs out a laugh.

“The game here you’re upset about something, but refuse to tell me why, so I have to guess what’s wrong with you until I get it right and you let me make it better.”

Steve glances at you and then back to the road. “I… I don’t do that.”

Oh, fuck, he totally does, he thinks to himself. Fuck, he hates that you know him so well.

“You’re literally doing it right now.”

“Well, I can’t be. Because I’m not upset about anything,” he argues with a shrug. “That’s, like, a mathematical impossibility. Or whatever.”

“Considering this is the most you’ve said to me all night, I know that isn’t true— And it’s not even a conversation! You’re just being passive aggressive!”

“Passive aggressive, huh?” he repeats sardonically.

“Yes!” you seethe. “You’re mad at me and I can tell that you’re mad, so just tell me why—”

“I’m not mad at you,” Steve grumbles. He feels even more like shit for making you think he was acting all pissy because of something you had done. You hadn’t done anything. You were perfect. You’re always perfect. And here he goes, making you think otherwise.

He slows to a stop at the last red-light before home. The neon scarlet matches that anger sweltering in his belly. He still refuses to look at you.

“Then what happened between when we got to Limelight and right now that’s got you so fucked up?” you ask him with a furrowed brow and inquisitive eyes.

The boy only huffs. His chest deflates with a heavy breath. He almost forgets to answer you because he’s too busy praying for the light to turn green so he can get the fuck home.

He just needs a little food in his system, he concludes, and a nice hot shower and a bed to rest his tired bones. Maybe then he’ll be able to function like he’s meant to.

He feels a sense of relief for the first time in hours when the light bathes the two of you in a neon emerald glow.

You let out a sharp exhale through your nose at his silence. You shake your head at him like an annoyed parent and cross your arms over your chest. Your knees turn away from him and towards the door in time with your gaze that flits to the window. Now you’re the one that’s pissed.

Steve mumbles lowly when he finally answers you. It’s nearly inaudible.

“Your douchebag ex.”

“What?” you reply, sparing a glance over at him. It isn’t a question of whether you heard him or not, but of why that’s what he’s being so mean to you about.

“Your douchebag ex,” he repeats louder and picks chapped skin from his bottom lip. He rubs his tongue over the irritated skin to soothe the burn. “That’s what I’m upset about.”

Your brows furrow as you rack your head for the conversation you had with Todd that you’d already forgotten about. He’d said hello, and that you looked nice, and then asked you what you’d been up to before making conversation with your friends. He’d wished you luck and walked back to his seat not too long after. You wonder if there was some code in his words that you’d missed.

“…I don’t get it. What did he do?”

“Really?” Steve wonders with an emotionless laugh. “You don’t have a single clue why that might’ve pissed me off?”

He barely slows at the sign of the four-way stop. The block is practically a ghost town now. No one’s out so late into the night. Any other time you might’ve said something about it, but you’re just as eager to get home as the simmering boy next to you.

“No! He stopped by to talk for, like, five minutes! Are you really upset because another man talked to me?” you shout and it burns him because, yeah, that is kind of what he’s mad about — but it’s more than that and you don’t seem to get it. It’s not your job to either. He’ll just burn for the both of you.

The car jerks to a stop when he parks in the driveway.

“Yeah, you’re right—” Steve mutters to himself as he snatches the keys from the ignition. “You don’t get it.”

You feel the impact of the slammed of the car door as he exits. The headlights illuminate the boy as he uses his key ring to unlock the front entrance of your shared home. The dim orange overhead light slowly dims above you and then shuts off completely, bathing you in darkness.

With a sigh and a fleeting thought of oh, it’s gonna be that kinda night, huh? you follow less unenthusiastically behind him.

“Then just explain it to me,” you plead, your voice coated with exhaustion. The warmth of the living room seeps into your bones and makes you that much more tired. “I really, really don’t wanna do this tonight.”

“That asshole was all over you,” Steve finally chooses to air his grievances while he toes off his sneakers.

“He hugged me once! What was I supposed to do? Push him off?”

“That’d be a start.”

“I would’ve done it!” you promise.

He plops onto the couch with a rather dramatic huff as you struggle to take off your boots, what with the zipper getting caught in the slider and being distracted by the storm cloud across the room.

“I don’t care about him! I literally haven’t seen him since I was eighteen! I basically forgot he existed in the first place.”

Steve doesn’t let himself take any solace in your words.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs with the shake of his head. He rests his elbows on his knees, runs his palms over his face once before dragging his fingers through his mussed hair. “Sometimes… I don’t know, I guess, sometimes it feels like maybe you deserve someone better than me.”

His confession feels like a stab in your heart.

You can only imagine how many daggers are piercing him now.

“Steve…”

“No. Don��t give me that bullshit spiel, alright?” he spurns with a shake of his stubborn head. When he laughs, it lacks any and all emotion; it’s gut-wrenchingly bitter and coated with venom. “We both know he could take way better care of you than I ever could. He’s practically a fucking millionaire, babe! And he’s, what, twenty-five? He has the money to drop everything and fly across the world— to France.”

“Steve—” you try again, to stop the spiral before it starts.

He doesn’t let you.

“I mean, fuck, I know how bad you wanna go there. You’ve been talking about it since we were eight,” he laments with wide, glassy eyes and an hand splayed out towards you. He brings it, then, to his chest and clutches at his heart, “But I can’t take you. Because I’m so broke, it fucking hurts. You deserve someone to do that shit for you, alright? And it’s not me. It’s never gonna be me.”

“…You really think he can take better care of me than you do?” you ask him so quietly that it sounds like a whimper. Your face is twisted in anguish, like his sadness pains you too.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles like the answer’s obvious. He sniffles. “Considering we’re working our asses off just to make it through the week and you’d never have to work a day in your life if you were with that asshole.”

“It’s not about the money, Steve,” you agonize with the shake of your head. “I don’t love him. I would be so unhappy if I were with him because he’s not you. I don’t give a single fuck about France if you’re not gonna be there with me.”

You close the distance between you as you walk from the entrance to where he sits in the living room. He can hardly look at you as you round the couch to stand ahead of him, sparing only meek glances your way.

The small smile on your lips only half puts out the fire raging in his chest. It’s one of those natural wildfires now. The kind that you’ve just got to let burn.

“What do I have to do, Steve? What do you want me to do to prove that I just want you?” you ask him softly, nudging your sock-clad foot with his own. “I’ll fucking— I’ll find his number in the phone book right now and invite him over if you want—”

Yeah, because seeing him again is gonna make any of this shit better, he thinks bitterly to himself, though he’s pleasantly surprised by your following promise.

“I’ll make him come over here, act like I wanna catch up or whatever, and then make him watch while I suck your cock,” you paint the picture for him in a suddenly low, sultry tone.

Steve can almost see it — the look on Todd’s face as he stands in the foyer, his hands balled into fists at his side, wearing an angry amber tint upon his perfect face while he watches the girl that got away take a mouthful of another man’s dick. “I’ll get all nice and pretty on my knees for you and make him watch.”

Steve tenses at your words. His fingers twitch where they rests on his knees, itching to get a hold of you. His eyes go heavy as he gazes up at you, his stern stare looking much darker than before — hungrier.

Your eyes carry a similar sort of desire. They swim with innocence and yearning and knowing.

Because both of you understand how your fights usually end. You’ve been together long enough to know. The anger grows and grows in the belly of a dragon until it’s all you can do to keep your hands off of each other. You make Steve come so hard he forgets all the reasons he was raging in the first place and then he apologizes with his tongue deep inside you, touching you in all the tender ways he knows how.

“Yeah,” he breathes with a nod, the word heavy on his tongue. “That’s what I want.”

“You wanna own me, don’t you, Stevie?” you purr.

Your movements are calculated and cat-like as you mount him. Your hands caress him from his knees to his thighs, then rise up to his chest when you straddle his lap. “You wanna fuck me and make me forget about every guy that’s ever had me before you. Is that it?”

He nods, too dumb to speak for now. Your voice is all silk and heat. It reminds him of your wet, hot pussy sitting just over his lap. Only the thin layers of your clothes separate you from him.

“You wanna ruin everyone else for me, huh?”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, both in an answer and a moan as your hand reaches between you to grab his cock through his jeans.

“You already have,” you assure with a sincere twinkle in your eyes. “But feel free to remind me.”

When your mouths collide, it’s all tongue and teeth and spit. It’s not passionate, it’s dirty.

His tongue forces its way between your lips and into your mouth, rubbing every part of you he can reach with the muscle, like he wants you to feel all of him there — a lingering touch that you can’t get rid of.

Your mouths caress each other and then break apart again in acute, wet, and filthy clicks that fill the silence in the house.

His stubble softly scratches you as it rubs against your skin. The feeling of it sends chills down your spine. Fuck, you curse to yourself. It’d feel even better between your legs.

Steve separates from you suddenly, his teeth digging into your bottom lip. A whimper leaves your throat as he mouths at it. With hooded eyes, he lets it go and watches it fall back into place. Then he grabs your cheeks with two large palms and drags you back to him, sucking on the bitten skin and then on your tongue.

The sensation’s got you moaning, your eyes rolling back in your head, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Your obedient hands worm between your bodies to unbuckle his belt.

“You gonna be good for me?” Steve asks you while your fingers undo that button on his pants. His lips are pinker and more swollen, coated with a fine sheen of spit that matches what's smeared on his chin.

“I’ll be so good for you, Stevie,” you promise before reaching through the band of his underwear to wrap your fingers around his warm, half-hard cock.

A grunt escapes his throat as he slides your panties to the side. He’s suddenly grateful for the easy access granted by your dress — the one that makes your tits look like heaven, the one he was cursing just hours because it had Todd drooling all over himself when he saw you.

The thought of the man no longer angers him. He’s not the one with his finger between the lips of your pussy, already drenched and coated with you.

“Yeah? You want daddy to fill your hungry little cunt?” Steve asks you, almost taunting you. He only uses that nickname when he’s in a certain mood — the mood to ruin you.

The tip of his finger catches the peak of your swollen clit and you keen.

His touch makes you so stupid that you’ve already forgotten to answer his question. He makes sure to remind you, though, when his hand rears back and smacks against the bare flesh of your cunt.

You hear the wet slap before you feel it.

It makes you clench around nothing and moan louder for him, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Words,”he demands softly.

“Please,” you moan helplessly into his shoulder. You love when he gets like this, assertive and showy with the power you let him have over you. He gets mean with you, but never too much that you forget how much he loves you, and that’s when you like him best.

His finger slips so effortlessly into you. You could easily take more than that with the way your pussy is so eager to suck him inside. He knows it, too. He just wants to tease you.

He wants to leave you empty and yearning before he fucks you silly. For now, he’s taunting you with his slow and clinical touch, observing everything he’s doing to you and how it has you twitching and begging for more.

He wants to commit it all to memory.

He’s barely got the tip of his pointer and middle finger prodding at your clenching entrance; it’s your pussy that drags them further in, opening for him and then tightening around the appendages so they’ll never leave. The obscenity of it makes both of you moan.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty like this,” Steve mutters to himself. “And so fucking wet— enough for me to slip right in, don’t ya think?”

You’re not so sure but you nod into his shoulder anyway. Even after all this time together, you can’t quite get used to how big he is. He still has to work you up to take his cock, with three or more fingers shoved inside of you until you’re ready. Even then, it still burns for the first couple of seconds. There’s always a grace period that you have to wait for before he can move.

And you feel the ache of him in your belly after, every damn time. Like he’s still there.

But you’re so wet now, impossibly so, you don’t think you could feel a thing other than pure bliss when he nestles his cock deep inside of you.

You whine quietly when he pulls his fingers from you, though it turns into a breathy moan when you see them glisten with your wetness. He slides them over his length, jerking himself to lube himself up for you. Just for good measure, he grabs hold of his cock and rubs the rounded tip between your velvet lips, coating it further with your slick.

“Think there’s enough for me to take your ass tonight, baby?” he asks over your low moan. He has to hold back his own, grit his teeth to keep it from leaving his mouth. God, you feel exactly like silk. “You want me to fuck that tight little hole, huh? You’ve only let me in there, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you answer tightly.

He doesn’t know which question you’re answering. Probably all three. Or maybe you’re just moaning because he’s got you all stupid with his cock and it’s not even inside of you yet. Both seems most likely.

Steve positions himself against you. When you feel the bulbous tip of his head, you hardly wait to slide down, down, down upon his cock.

It doesn’t take long for you to feel full. It takes less time before he reaches the apparent end of you. The feeling makes you jolt against him, like your body’s trying to move back up and away from the sensation on instinct. He’s quick to grab your hips to keep himself inside you.

“Uh-uh,” he hums. “Don’t run away from me.”

“Fuck,” you moan into his shoulder and then whine. The pleasure and the accompanying ache has your head spinning. “You’re already so deep.”

“I know, baby. You gotta take all of me, though, okay? Said you were gonna me by good girl, remember?”

His coo is enough to comfort you. You nod against his neck and let him guide you further and further down his cock.

You grit your teeth when you think he can’t possibly fill you anymore. The burn peaks all at once and ebbs so quickly, letting the rest of his inches slide in you with ease. And, god, if you don’t feel him in your fucking throat.

He stills, thankfully, and lets you get used to the feeling of him all over again.

“There you go,” Steve praises like he always does and then laughs at how rigid you’ve gone. “Breathe, baby.”

The exhale comes out as a sob and a small “fuck”, but you force yourself to relax against him nonetheless. His warm hands rub soothingly against the buzzing skin of your thighs beneath the skirt of your dress. “Doing so good for me, baby.”

“I can feel you in my fucking guts right now,” you slur, voice fragile like glass.

Your words are almost enough to make him burst and you haven’t even moved yet. A deep, hearty groan climbs from his throat. He tips his heavy head to the back of the couch and clenches his jaw, squeezing his eyes shut to stave off the feeling.

He makes himself climb down from the peak of pleasure and quickly gain his bearings all over again.

“Ride me, honey,” he whispers you.

Immediately, you start rocking your hips against him. His sigh is blissful, almost dreamy, as he watches you work yourself on top of him.

You’re always so patient with your pleasure, so calculated and attentive. You slide your hips back over his thighs and then up again, moaning every time the material of his sweatshirt rubs against your clit. You’re not chasing the feeling, you’re letting it come slowly and ease its way up to you. You know you’ve got all the time in the world.

Steve has always admired your patience, but it’s never one he could hope to possess. He rides toward an orgasm on a white mare. He claims it, he hunts it, he snatches it. Because, you’re right, you’ve got all the time in the world — he wants you to come as many times as the night (or, rather, your pussy) will allow.

So it isn’t at all surprising when gets impatient with your slow movements. And when one hand falls to your ass and the other slides up your back and clutches the opposite shoulder, you know what you’re in for.

Even though you’re expecting it, a high-pitched moan spills from your mouth when he starts fucking up into you. He’s doing a whole lot more than just hitting the right spot. The rubbing of the fabric is unrelenting against your clit.

You’re always done for when he takes you like this. Both of you know it.

“You already close, aren’t you?” he manages through heavy pants over the lewd slapping of his thighs against your own. “This is all it takes, huh?”

“’S because of you,” you slur into the sticky skin of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you moan.

He can feel himself getting closer and he groans through gritted teeth. The hand on your shoulder ascends to the back of your head. His fingers tangle in your hair and pull you from the refuge you’d found in the book of his shoulder. It allows him to see you for the first time since you’d mounted his cock.

Your cheeks are blotchy and glowing cherry. Your eyes are glassy and glazed over with pleasure. Your lips swollen from where you’d been biting at them.

Perfect, he thinks to himself.

He drags that hand to your chest, wrenching at the plunging neck and pushing it down to reveal your tits. They bound out of the fabric with ease, a small red and raw line at the tops of them from where the dress had kept them so tightly contained.

He palms at your left breast, digs his fingers into the fat of it and lets your hard and pebbled nipple rub against his palm.

“Fuck, baby,” he almost whines. It takes all of his willpower to keep his eyes open to look at them. “You’ve got the prettiest fucking tits I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s why I wore this— wanted your attention—” you confess through each of his thrusts.

“Yeah, you got my fucking attention, sweetheart,” he manages a breathy laugh.

His heart swells at the thought of you picking this dress because you thought he might like it. That you’d think of him doing something as mundane as picking what you wore out to the bar you went to every Friday night.

It gets too easy to want to slip into that softness. But he knows that you’re already close. So, so fucking close.

“Now come all over my cock for me, yeah?” he demands softly. “Cream on this dick and show me how good you are.”

And, like the good girl you are, don’t need to be told twice.

You shudder against him and then go rigid. He watches with a proud, lazy grin as you tip your head back, squeeze your eyes shut, and let your mouth fall agape. The feeling in your stomach builds and builds and builds, the pleasure disappearing for a moment, before coming back in an explosion that makes you gush.

As though your moans weren’t enough of a confirmation of your orgasm, you go so unmistakably tight around him that it makes his legs twitch beneath you. He angles his hips so he can peek between the two of you to watch the sheen of your cum glisten on his hard cock.

“God, you’re so fucking sensitive like this— holy shit.”

“Steve!” you whine when your high starts to fade and his thrusts only quicken.

He's chasing his own pleasure now, you know that, but the feeling against your abused pussy is growing into a nearly unbearable one.

You bite your lip so hard it’s a wonder you don’t draw any blood. You grip his shoulders and ball his sweatshirt in your fist, tethering yourself to him and to reality.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” he asks with his chin jutted out to look up at you. “Who else can fuck you like this?”

You can tell by his glassy eyes and erratic thrusts that he’s close to his own orgasm. He always wants you to talk him through it, to praise him and to tell him how good he makes you feel. For obvious reason, the whole thing comes terribly natural to you.

“Only you,” you promise tiredly. “’S just you, Stevie—”

“Fuck,” he spits and tilts his head to the back of the couch. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and brings his bottom lip between his teeth, never easing his impossibly swift thrusts.

“Want you to come in me,” you whisper to him. You rest your arms on his shoulders and drag your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp and pulling every time he lets a moan slip. “Want you to come so deep inside me— I’m dripping for days—”

“Shit, baby.”

“And then, when I’m all round and full with your baby— everyone’s gonna know who I belong to, right?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans. “Gonna come so— fuck— so nice and deep in this pussy. My pussy.”

“Please,” you beg, like you aren’t half-delirious with your own pleasure. “Come in your pussy, Stevie.”

“Holy shit—” His cock pulses and twitches and then spits inside you. He grabs onto your hips more roughly than he intended and keeps you tightly pressed against him while he comes, giving you several long and warm ropes against your velvet walls. He whimpers when your pussy flutters around him.

You collapse against him when his orgasm comes and goes, rocking against his lap to get him through his high until he stops you with a firm squeeze to your thigh. You both sink further into the couch, swimming in the peaceful void that pleasure always pushes you into.

He rubs his hands beneath the skirt of your dress, petting your warm and sticky skin as the after-sex bliss rest heavily upon the both of you.

“Here,” he breaks the satin silence and taps at your hip. “Get off, baby. Let me get you some water or something—”

He feels you shake your head from where you’ve tucked it in his shoulder again. “Don’t wanna move. Want you to stay inside me.”

“Yeah?”

You’ve never done this before — cockwarming. He’s not sure if you have before, but he definitely hasn’t, and certainly not with you.

Before you, he was the kind of asshole that went to sleep right after sex. The thought of staying inside his partner never crossed his mind. But to his defense, none of his partners thought to do it either. Being King Steve and all meant there wasn’t a lot of cuddling going on after sex. It was usually one-and-done affairs, but he never did this with any of his girlfriends before either.

And now that he’s matured into a somewhat respectable adult, he takes great pride in taking care of you after, in cleaning you up and making sure you’re alright. And when you’re either falling asleep or wanting to shower, there’s no room to be kept inside you. Not until now.

“Wanna fall asleep like this,” you confess. The way you’re halfway slurring and settling more heavily against him tells him you’re not too far off.

“That’s not gonna be comfortable for you, baby,” he scolds softly. Because him — he’s perfect like this. He’s slouched in the plush cushion of the couch and you’re wrapped so tightly around him (in every possible way) you've become his own personal blanket.

But your back is hunched from where your neck is snug and pressed into his shoulder. You’ll likely wake up aching tomorrow, in more ways than one.

“Don’t care,” you mumble and sprinkle kisses to his neck, just because you can. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

“Forever?” he laughs tiredly.

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You shift on his lap to look at him, exhaling a moan through your nose when you feel him twitch inside of you, even though he’s going steadily soft. Your gaze is innocent and yearning and knowing — hungry again. “Think you can take that, Harrington?”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he promises with a sincere twinkle in his cinnamon colored eyes. “I can take it.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

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dxvxx · 26 days

Text

It's Exit Exam day and i'm exhausted.

The wannabe overdue acrobat in my belly kicking me for all his worth isn't helping either. I waddle out of my bathroom naked and dripping wet, not bothering with a towel, even the biggest ones stopped covering my body after the second trimester.

I rub my bump as i check my phone and send William a text reassuring him that i'm fine before i open my closet and rifle through it.

I gave up on wearing my maternity jeans a month ago, so i bypass those and pick out a pale beige sundress.

Grabbing it, i shuffle to the mirror to try to see if it would even fit me. Looking at me, you'd think i'm carrying twins with how big my bump had gotten.

I hear the faint sound of my apartment unlocking and smile when, soon after, my boyfriend strides into my bedroom, looking edible in his black slacks and black button-down shirt.

I rub my thighs, looking at his rolled up sleeves and veiny tattooed forearms.

"Babe," it comes out as a whine as i look up at him. Up, because William is a 6'5 "muscled giant of a man while i'm 5'3 and petite, or at least, i used to be petite. "I told you i'm okay." I murmur but lean back against him greedily as he hugs my naked body from behind. He lifts up the weight of my heavy belly off my hips, just the way i like, and i can't help the moan of relief that escapes. "Mmm.."

"Couldn't help myself," he rumbles, dragging his nose up my neck, right to one of my sensitive spots, breathing in my shampoo. I tilt my neck, giving him more access, letting out another soft moan as i feel myself get wet.

I rub the top of my bump just enjoying being near him, but i have to ask..."No- mhmm- one saw you, right?" Even though i know he's always careful.

William is a professor at my college. We met 2 years ago when i was in a class of his and we have been dating on the downlow ever since.

While i'm no longer a student of his, it's still frowned upon and could lead to serious trouble so we're keeping it quiet until i graduate next month.

That's why he moved me out of the dorms and is renting me an off-campus apartment near his house. Something he keeps grumbling about because 'you're not close enough.' I'm pretty sure if i let him have his way, we'd already have been married by now.

He doesn't respond as he trails kisses up and down my neck, nipping and sucking, leaving me breathless and squirming "Wiiiilll" i whine.

My libido has been in overdrive ever since i got pregnant at the end of summer and had increased even more in my last trimester. The barest of touches or even friction from my clothes has me panting like a bitch in heat.

Something William takes great delight in.

"Have i told you how gorgeous you are so full and heavy with my son?" He growls while leaving hickeys on my neck. He tells me every day. William has always been possessive and overprotective, but he had doubled down ever since i started showing.

He cups my bare pussy murmuring out a rough "mine" in my ear. I'm so wet i drip a bit on his hand as i look in the mirror.

It's a sight.

My belly heavy and round, with the skin a bit pink, overstretched and taut with William's tattooed arms wrapped around it.

My heavy breasts that have doubled in size are aching with my rosy nipples pebbled, begging to be touched.

William's hardened length is nestled against my naked ass cheeks.

It's all too much.

My hips roll trying to get something, anything, but he just cups it, giving me a warning squeeze i ignore. "Don't tease mmhm meeee." i half moan half whine. That earns me a slap on my pussy. The sting shoots up straight to my needy clit and i whimper "ooh fuckk."

Two of his thick fingers tease my entrance before he thrusts them home, using his thumb to rub my clit in slow agonizing lazy circles that have me bucking against his hand desperate for more but he keeps his fingers still.

I know what he's doing, punishing me for refusing to stay home this past week, when i officially reached my due date and passed it.

I get more desperate, rolling my hips harder, trying and failing to get him moving, to give me anything. He smirks in my neck, proud of himself, and i'm close to losing it, delirious with lust and need.

"William Ivan Carmichael, I swear to- Ooomph.." He takes out his dripping fingers and stuffs them into my mouth, effectively shutting up my threat.

Fine, two can play at this game, damn it.

I suck his fingers in, swirling my tongue around them like i do with his dick humming as i lick my juices off his skin. He thrusts them deeper down my throat, lazily pumping them before he pulls out and whirls me around. The movement makes my bump jiggle before he claims my mouth in a hungry kiss.

I'm panting and aching by the time he releases me. I don't have time to process or protest as he lets me go, slaps my ass, picks up the discarded dress off the floor, and flings it at me.

He adjusts himself in his pants and says in a rough voice, "Get dressed, you don't want to be late. I'll see you in the Exam hall."

And he... leaves. Just like that.

The Bastard.

I glare weakly after him and collapse on my bed then immediately regret it and moan "ooohh" At the feel of my sheets creating friction against my aching cunt.

I rub my bump restlessly and nibble my bottom lip. I could give myself an orgasm, could even use the toys in our expansive collection, but...it's not enough, it never is. Nothing comes even close to him, to his skilled, pierced dick and his wicked filthy mouth.

"Your daddy is gonna be the death of me" i whisper to our son before i heave myself up and off the bed with a soft grunt.

William doesn't get it. I want to finish my BSN nursing degree. I don't want and will not drop out or delay my diploma another year. That's just a waste of time and money.

I open my underwear drawer and pull out a lacy black set, then think for a bit and return the bra only pulling on the thong. Anything against my nipples right now will be torturous.

I sigh as i pull on the dress next and wince at how it looks in the mirror then try to make it less tantalizing. It used to fit me and reach just before my knees but with my bump...it barely reaches my thighs not to mention how much cleavage it's showing.

But...fuck it. I'm too horny and too pregnant and too tired to care much anymore.

I stuff my swollen feet in a pair of ballerina flats, fluff up my blonde hair a bit then grab my bag and keys. Making my way out of the door, i stop and rub my belly. It feels really uncomfortable today, hotter and tighter than it has all week.

With a sigh, i keep walking, although much slower, and lock the door before i start going down the stairs.

It doesn't matter. I just have to get through the three hours Exam while trying to ignore the urge to jump William right on top of the desk he's gonna be monitoring us from.

Then we'll come back here and i'll demand he fucks me six ways to Sunday then he'll punish me, in panty melting ways for using that tone with him then...

My horny thoughts stopped abruptly, and i let out a startled gasp, widening my legs. I rub both sides of my bump as the baby drops lower, applying pressure on my lower belly and my already aching pussy.

Well, Fuck.

(This is part 1. Let me know if you're interested in part 2, maybe 3.)

#pregnant #labor kink #birth kink #preggo kink #pregnancy #birth denial

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

A Real Prince Charming

Pairing: Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You get to see Bucky in his element. Word Count: Over 2.1k Warnings: Fluff, (f)lirting, feels, passionate Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) Graphics Talent: Edit by Nix (extra thanks for spitballing!), banner by @sgt-seabass, divider by @firefly-graphics - Thank you, lovelies! A/N: Follow up to Once Upon a Time and Far, Far Away. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Picking out on an outfit to wear to the library took you more time than you cared to admit. You didn't want it to be too revealing since you were visiting Bucky at his job and there would be kids around. You also didn't want to look too casual since you were going on a date.

"What's the big deal? It's just pizza," Tina said on the video call as you held up a shirt. "Wear a sweater."

Might as well have just told me to wear a burlap sack.

"It isn't just pizza. It's the first of many dates," Kim argued on your behalf. "Wear a dress."

You inwardly sighed as you tossed the top onto the pile with the others. While it thrilled you that your friends were interested, you were nervous enough to begin with and the call almost caused additional stress. They were only trying to help though and that mental reminder pushed some of the nerves away.

"Or just wear whatever you feel is comfortable that still looks nice," Nicole suggested, bringing balance to the optimist and pessimist. "Whatever you wear, he's going to love it."

I hope so.

"Nice jeans and a blouse it is," you decided.

I still can't believe he agreed to go out with me.

Kim clapped giddily. "You have to tell us everything, promise?"

"And keep us on standby if you need an escape, okay?" Tina asked.

One of the reasons you loved having her as a friend was because of her protective nature. No matter how blunt she could be, she would be the first to step up if anyone tried to hurt you or your other friends. At the end of the day, her heart was in the right place.

"I won't need an escape, but thank you," you assured them, smiling at your friends through the phone. "And I'll give you the details within reason."

Nicole's eyebrows shot up before she smirked. "Within reason, huh? Does that mean you're going to put out on the first date?"

Why did I say that?

"Did you see his picture? I'd put out, too. At the library," Kim grinned mischievously as you went back to the closet and searched through your clothes. “I would even let him put it in my-”

"Sluts. All of you," Tina joked.

"I'm hanging up now. Thanks!" you announced, disconnecting yourself from the chat after they wished you "good luck".

You pushed through a few more hangers before you stopped and pulled out a blouse, smiling as you looked it over. It was casual enough for the library and pizza, but still nice enough for a date. The shade of blue was nearly identical to Bucky's eyes.

Perfect. Now I just need to make sure not to fall on my face.

The Abraham Library was, unsurprisingly, quiet when you entered the building. The soothing light and smell of paper brought you back to when you were younger and eager to get your hands on a new book. Electronic devices made reading more accessible to some, but they couldn't beat the feeling of holding a book in your hands as you curled up and immersed yourself in a new world.

Fitting I'd go for a man surrounded by books.

You spotted Bucky as you made your way to the service desk and wished you had a glass of water with how dry your throat went from looking at him. He was every bit as handsome as when you met him on the subway in slacks, a sweater, and glasses. Though you witnessed firsthand how intimidating he could be, you had a feeling the kids adored him.

You couldn't wait to see if he proved you right.

You quietly walked over to the desk as Bucky spoke in a hushed tone to a colleague. You weren't about to raise your voice to get his attention and you didn't want to interrupt his conversation. Whatever it was, he sounded a bit worked up even as he kept his voice down. You hoped everything was okay.

"You realize that they're restricting access to diverse voices and censoring speech by banning books, don't you?" Bucky asked as he pointed to a piece of paper from the counter.

"They're not doing that," his coworker said.

"Yes, they are. They're saying that some experiences and topics are worthy of discussion and exposure and others aren't," Bucky argued as he brushed a hand through his hair and slowly exhaled. "They're reinforcing a way of thinking that limits others. Kids are trying to find their way in the world and they should have the right to choose and be properly educated."

You almost propped an elbow on the counter to watch and listen as you fell a bit in love with the hunky librarian. You didn't get to witness a man speak so passionately about his beliefs very often. Hearing that it was in regards to the type of literature kids could or couldn't read and how they should have the freedom to choose made it even better.

"It's not that deep, man. Let it go," Bucky's coworker said.

“You let it go, Greg,” he grumbled.

The retort made you giggle, which got Greg’s attention. "Sorry, miss. May I help you?"

"I'm waiting for him," you smiled as Bucky turned to you with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

"Hi," he said, swallowing as he pushed his glasses up and smoothed out the non-existent wrinkle in his sweater. "You look. Wow."

It's just a compliment. Don't preen.

"Thanks," you smiled.

"I hope you weren't standing there long."

"Just long enough to hear you defend what kids should have access to reading, which I happen to agree with you."

"You do?" he asked, running a hand through his hair again.

Adorable.

You hoped it didn't embarrass him that you overheard the conversation, but his cheeks still had a pink tinge to them. You wondered how warm they were to the touch. Maybe you'd find out at a later time.

Like when his coworker wasn't looking between the two of you with growing interest.

"I do," you confirmed. "I wish more people were passionate about topics like that."

The lopsided smile on Bucky's face was one you hoped to see again and again.

"You must be the new volunteer Bucky wouldn't shut up about. I'm Greg."

"Nice to meet you, Greg," you said, glancing coyly at Bucky. "You were talking about me?"

"Why don't I show you to the children's section?" he replied, shooting Greg a look before he gestured for you to follow him. "And for the record, yes. He may have asked why I wouldn't stop smiling after our phone call."

You almost swooned again. The wonderful, handsome librarian smiled at the thought of going out with you. Were you dreaming?

You pinched yourself.

Not a dream.

"You mean the call where you heard me shriek?" you asked, biting back a groan.

Why did I bring that up? Can I blame his handsome face for causing my brain to fritz?

"Yes, that call," he chuckled as you got to the area with bright colors and high ceilings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as he began to arrange some of the cushions in a semi-circle.

“You brought up the shriek,” he pointed out.

Touche.

“So, we’re forming a semi-circle?” you asked, following his lead.

“Yes,” he smiled, placing another cushion on the carpet before he looked around the area. “We do basic story time four times a week for some of the younger kids. A few of them like to go to the quiet reading areas after or do STEM activities, like the Tinker and Crafts Lab. Plenty of opportunities to play with the open floor space or use the technology at their disposal. There’s even an area for pre-walkers and a baby mat for tummy time.”

You smiled at the pride in his voice. Though you were only in the beginning stages of getting to know him, you sensed that the library wasn’t just a place where he worked. He was in his element here. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was so passionate about the kids being able to read whatever they wanted.

“Sounds like you put a lot of love and care into this library,” you said as he selected a book from the small stack on the nearby table.

“Yeah, well. I spent a lot of time here when I was a kid. Read as many books as I could get my hands on,” he said as he shuffled the book between his hands. “One of my best friends got picked on a lot for being small, so we hung out here some days. We’d read or draw until it was time for us to go home. Still one of my best friends to this day.”

Chivalrous, a good friend, and cares about the well-being of kids. A real Prince Charming.

“Sounds like you were lucky to have each other,” you said, brushing your hand against his forearm. “And you should be proud of what you’ve done with the place.”

Bucky didn’t blush, but the lopsided grin was back on his face. “You being nice so I’ll pay for your pizza?” he asked, gently taking your hand in his.

You didn’t realize there was only a few inches of space between you until you stared directly into his eyes. Your nerve endings singed with electricity and you wished were bold enough to drag him away to one of the bookshelves. If you were lucky, maybe another time.

Not when you were about to help him with a group of children.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled back. “I can pay for my own pizza. Should pay for yours, too, for stepping in on the subway.”

“I thought we both agreed you could've handled it," he reminded you. "And I wouldn’t make my girl pay for her meal or mine.”

"Oh, so I'm your girl now?" you smiled wider, wondering if your stomach would keep doing summersaults around him. "You move fast."

"I don't do everything fast," he whispered.

Oh.

“Mr. Barnes!”

You jumped away from Bucky at the sound of a woman’s voice, but he didn’t let go of your hand right away. An elderly woman stood a few feet away with a little girl by her leg. She gave you both a tiny wave.

And gave you a chance to breathe.

"Greg said there was a new volunteer," the woman smiled.

“Hi, Mrs. West. Hi, Joely. And, yes, this is our new volunteer,” he smiled as he introduced you. "Are you excited for story time, Joley?”

“Uh huh,” she said, giving you another wave. “You’re pwetty.”

What a sweetheart.

“This very pretty lady is excited to help today,” Bucky smiled, making your heart speed up. “Is that okay with you?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded.

“Thank you, Joley,” you grinned. “For the compliment and for letting me help.”

“Thank you. She looks forward to this every week,” Mrs. West said as Bucky offered his hand to Joley and led her to the carpet as other kids began to arrive. “He really is a wonderful man. Joley was falling behind on reading and my daughter and her teacher did everything they could think of to help. He stayed with her to help, even when his shifts were over. He helped her fall in love with books.”

“He seems like the kind of man who makes it easy to fall in love,” you said, your eyes wide when Mrs. West stared at you. “With books,” you added quickly.

“Of course,” Mrs. West nodded. “You know, I’ve been bringing my granddaughter here for some time now and, I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him hold hands with any of the other volunteers. I haven’t even heard him mention anyone special. I’ve asked, believe me.”

I'm not special to him already, am I?

“Oh, we’re not. Well, we are,” you tried to think of the right words. “I mean, we’re going on a date.”

“You don’t say? I hope it goes well. Maybe you’ll make it easy for him to fall in love, too,” she grinned before she walked away.

Your gaze flickered over to Bucky where he sat on the floor. He had Joley in his lap and held the book open, ready for the other kids to join them. It was a beautiful image.

As the librarian looked up at you and smiled, you hoped Mrs. West was right.

Pizza date to come soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #librarian!bucky barnes #librarian!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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saturnsorbits · 8 months

Text

Walk This Way

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Kink Discovery, A Touch of Foot Humping, Shoe Appreciation. Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Kink discovery with Kirishima: Heels.

A/N: I've been toying around with random kink/character generators and this was the first thing it spat out, so here's my Kirishima + Heels offering.

Kirishima's throat is dry.

It shouldn't be.

He's seen you get dressed countless times and apart from the occasional stiffening in his jeans (You're hot and although, gentle, he is, but a man) and him having to avert his eyes occasionally, for decencies sake, he's never felt like this.

Licking over his lips, he readjusts his seat on the edge of your bed and subtly rests his forearm over the crotch of his pants. From his perch he can see you through the half-ajar door of the en-suite. Your hair and make-up is already done and you've slipped yourself into a dress that is positively sinful. It's new, something he's never seen you wear before and damn, he thinks, do you wear it.

So lost is he in his daze, wondering just what it is that hides under the delicate lace and thin straps he doesn't quite register you slipping out of the bathroom and heading towards him.

Tilting your head, you prop a hand on your hip and tilt your head. 'I'm taking the slack jaw to mean that I look alright, then?'

Kirishima coughs the saliva from his throat and shakes his head. Reaching up to rub at the back of his neck, he tries to ease his tension with a thumb digging hard into the muscle. 'Yeah, you look... You look great.'

'Good.' Turning on the balls of your feet, you slink over to your wardrobe and bend to rummage in the small shoe rack slipped inside. 'Let me just throw my shoes on and we can head out, yeah?'

Nodding, Kirishima turns his mind to the mundane – point blank refusing to stare at the curve of your ass as it pokes up and out of the wardrobe. God only knows what hot water he'd find himself in if he allowed himself to stare. 'S- Sounds good.'

'Can you -.'

The air is knocked clean out of Kirishima's chest when you turn back to face him. You're wearing shoes now, heels, tall black things with a strip of material that bars across your toes. At your ankle two black straps hang loose, waiting to be tied.

Swallowing, Kirishima lets his eyes trace the heels. He gains a whole new appreciation for curves as he looks at you.

There's a delicate bend to your foot now, a subtle 'S' that pushes you up forcing the muscles of your calves to tighten. It's too easy to loose himself, becoming absorbed in the jutting bend of your ankle bone, to the long stretch of your calves that leans out stretching wide around your knees before giving way to plush thigh and an ass he can tell by your posture is pushed out enough that he'd be able to slip behind and grind against.

Still, his eyes slip down again.

Despite all of that, it's somehow the heels that stick out.

'Do you mind?' Tottering towards him, you take three measured steps crossing ankle over ankle before coming to a stop directly in front of Kirishima. 'I can't -.'

Kirishima nods before he really knows what he's agreeing too and gets the broad flat of your foot almost square against the crease of his thigh for his trouble. The pressure, as gentle as it is, has his cock stirring in seconds as he reaches for your ankle on reflex.

'I can never get them tight enough and I don't want to feel like I'm going to slip out of them all night...' You complain, pouting.

It's the soft jut of your lower lip that seals his fate. Kirishima smiles, flashing the sharp edges of his teeth before attempting to steady himself as he reaches for the first of the straps.

His fingers are rough when they drag across your skin, but his touch is nothing but soft as he loops the strap and begins to fiddle with the clasp. Using a thumb to steady himself, he lets his knuckles brush against the roof of your foot before covering it with his palm as he finishes with the second strap.

'Thanks...'

Adam's apple bobbing, he chooses to ignore the fact that you use a little too much pressure when you pull back your foot. His cock twitches, almost fully swollen in the confine of his pants as he waits, patiently, head down for his next task.

This time, when you place down your foot, you do it harder, with purpose and a little closer to the undeniable swell in his pants.

To test a theory, you tell yourself.

A theory that is easily proven when you feel his cock kick against the sole of your shoe.

Kirishima blushes bright. Everything from the tips of his cheekbones, to the slither of pec visible between the low cut of his shirt burns.

It makes you wonder just how low the colour travels. 'Oh...'

'I... Uh...' With shaking hands, Kirishima sets about clasping the next strap. In his vein's, his blood thrums, heart beating almost out of his chest as he waits of your next move. He wonders if you'll call him out, label him a pervert and kick him out of your apartment, but all doubt is clearly forced from his mind when he feels you shift.

Pressing your shoe firmly over his cock, you press down and rock forward earning yourself a moan that vibrates through his chest. 'You like that?'

There's a wet spot on his pants now, he can feel it. The seam rubs at his cock, chafing slightly as he tries and fails to stop his hips from rolling.

Something heavy crawls into your voice as you watch him squirm. Who would have thought, Kirishima Eijirou brought to his knees by a simple pair of heels.

'You do, don't you?' This time, when you press down a large hand wraps around your ankle, but he doesn't do anything to stop you. Instead, he tilts his chin to look at you, exposing the naked lust in his eyes and whines. Licking your lips, you press harder still. 'Go on then, I know you want to...'

Bucking up, he grinds against the sole of your shoe, revelling in the dull throb that comes with the stabbing of the heel at his crotch. He can't help himself. Pleasure builds in his stomach with each roll of his hips bringing with it a new bloom that has him close to cumming in his pants like a teenager. At either side of your ankle, his fingers loosen, twisting to wrap around the shoe itself as he feels his way along the sole of your foot.

'You really like that, don't you?' There's a darkness in your chuckle as you settle into the power you now hold.

His voice is gravelled when he answered, lost as he feels the telltale sign of his end nearing. 'Yeah, fuck... Fuck, I'm -.'

'Go on... Cum for me.' Pressing down exceptionally hard you watch as his whole body tremors. The muscle in his thighs and back tenses, the hand around your shoe tightening as he almost curls over on himself with the sheer force of the orgasm that tears through him.

It leaves him breathless, disoriented almost, as reality comes crashing down on him with a viscous intensity only rivalled by the orgasm still ebbing from his body. Swallowing, he looks up through his eyelashes at you and offers you a nervous smile. 'I – Fuck, I'm – I'm sorry, I -.'

You shake your head, blinking as you try and focus past the steady pulse of your cunt. Slowly slipping your foot off of his lap, you slink closer until you can straddle his hips. He's broad, forcing you to stretch your thighs wide enough that your cunt presses flush to his already re-stiffening cock. Linking your hands behind his neck, you play with the strands of red there as you press your nose to his and whisper into the air between you. 'How about round two?'

Kirishima's eyes blow wide before he pulls you in with a strong hand wrapping your jaw. The kiss is hungry, full of soft nicks and the flick of his tongue against the seam of your lips. Pulling away, he licks across his teeth, tasting you before growling: 'The heels stay on.'

-> Masterlist

#kirishima smut #kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader smut #my hero academia smut #saturnsorbits #saturnscribbles

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Text

Chapter 10, Pt. 2- Happy Birthday, Javi

Summary: Javi is convinced that after the perfect morning you've given him, his birthday can't get any better. Little does he know, his birthday still has a few more surprises left.

Word Count: 11.7K (Told you it'd be 20K if i put these two parts together)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (pls be safe), semi-public sex (and kind of getting caught?), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise kink, breeding kink (are we surprised, cause I'm sure not), mentions of death/loss (but it's really sweet), mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of food, Steve Murphy not letting Javi have a moment of peace, Javi holding a baby (please don't mind as I scream into the abyss), if you've made it this far, you already know the sickening amount of fluff there's gonna be (hehehehe)

A/N: Our favorite birthday boy is back!!! I'm excited for this one cause it's CUTE. But when are these two idiots not like, the most adorable couple alive. Enjoy the rest of our sweet Javi's birthday!! Also please someone understand my self indulgent Foo Fighters/Blink-182 references

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“So you’re telling me I don’t get to know anything about the rest of the day? Coming from the person who hates surprises more than anyone I know?” Javi chuckled to himself, wrapping his towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower, handing you yours as you followed behind him.

“Okay, just because I hate being on the receiving end of a surprise doesn’t mean I don’t like to be a part of planning a surprise. So no, you don’t get to know. Although, I will say what happened this morning and the way you just pressed me against the wall and fucked me in the shower are two surprises I’m not upset about at all.” You smirked at Javi as you watched him run a towel over the damp curls of his hair, seeing his satisfied grin from underneath the fabric. “Now go get ready, birthday boy, you’ve got a big day ahead of you.” Javi pressed a gentle kiss onto your bare shoulder as you organized your things on the bathroom counter, rolling your eyes as you watched him look you up and down in the mirror.

“If we didn’t have places to be, I’d bend you over this counter and fuck you right here.” The kiss on your shoulder being replaced by a nip, making you giggle and swat at his broad body standing behind you.

“Javier Peña, you are a goddamn menace to society, go change!” The two of you laughed as Javi gave you a wink and a quick smack on the ass as he left you in the bathroom to start getting ready.

A menace to society in-fucking-deed.

You made sure to get ready as quickly as you could, wanting to make sure that you stayed on time for the rest of Javi’s birthday festivities. You had plenty planned to keep him busy until 4:00, the time you told Chucho you’d arrive at the ranch, giving your guests an hour to show up beforehand without ruining the surprise. After changing into a new, cute peachy dress with little white flowers, you met Javi in the living room, sitting on the couch watching TV, looking handsome as ever in the dark wash jeans and cream colored short sleeved button down.

“The watch looks good with your outfit.” You teased, noticing that Javi was already wearing one of his birthday gifts that he had insisted on giving you a hard time about after finding out about its cost.

“I love it, Osita. I’ll wear it every fucking day. And it actually tells time, which is helpful.” He laughed before turning his head around over the top of the couch to see you in your dress, jaw going slack as he watched you move about the kitchen, gathering things for the next part of your day. “Fuck me. Is that new?” he asked, taking an extra moment to appreciate how well the peach colored fabric hugged your body in all the right places, particularly as you bent down to pick something up out of the fridge.

“Mmmhhmmm.” You hummed, trying your best to hide the pozole de pollo you had made for Javi the day before in your travel sized cooler. “Same shopping trip as this morning’s outfit.” You looked up at Javi, giggling, as he ran a hand through his hair, knowing he was using every ounce of self control in his body to let you keep working on whatever you were doing. “Alright, I think everything is packed and should be good to go. You ready, roomie?” You smiled, grabbing the bag you had packed in preparation for the next part of your birthday plans. That one made Javi grin from ear to ear, still processing the fact that you had asked him to move in with you. He had practically already been living there, but something about knowing you wanted him to be the first thing you saw in the morning, and the last thing you saw before you fell asleep at night every damn day filled his heart in a way he didn’t know was possible.

“Ready. Sure I don’t get to know where we’re going?” He chuckled to himself as he got up, putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys, including the newest one to your shared apartment that he had already slipped onto the key ring while you were getting ready.

“You’re starting to sound like me. C’mon, let’s go.”

Walking down the stairs of your apartment, you grabbed Javi’s hand, knowing that he was going to lead you to his truck. Before he could lead you any further across the parking lot, you tugged him in the opposite direction, leading you towards your car. “Nope, I’m driving today. How were you supposed to drive if you didn’t know where we were going?”

“You could still drive my truck, if you wanted. You’re always complaining about how shitty your car is.”

He wasn’t wrong. After getting stationed in Oregon after his deployment, your oldest brother, Charlie, had offered to let you have his 1985 Jeep Wrangler. In reality, the car was only a decade-ish old, but the way he had treated it before he gave it to you had it barely hanging on by a thread. After your drive to Texas, Woodstock (the name you had given the car, given its obnoxious bright yellow color) was in rough shape, but, like most things in life, you were too stubborn to give it up and get a new one until you ran it into the ground.

“Every ounce of feminism in my body evaporates if I even think about driving that truck. It’s huge, and I’m terrified I’m gonna crash into something, and at least one of us needs a car that isn’t an absolute piece of shit.” You sighed, throwing your bag in the trunk before hopping into the driver’s seat, Javi taking his spot next to you as a passenger. “Please, please, please.” You mumbled to yourself, twisting the key back and forth in the ignition before turning the car over, praying it would start. “Yes! She lives to see another day.” You nodded your head in satisfaction as Woodstock’s engine rumbled. Javi shook his head, laughing to himself at your antics you had convinced him were the key to getting your car to start. “Alright,” You said, backing out of your spot and pulling on to the road, “you’re in charge of music today. Sorry I don’t have the Grease soundtrack in my car, but I do have some ABBA which I feel like could be a good replacement if that’s what you’re in the mood for.”

Javi rolled his eyes at you as he reached up to pull down the visor in front of him, lined with the CD’s in its sleeve. Since the two of you normally didn’t drive in your car, Javi wasn’t used to your music selection. Flipping through the discs, he found some overlaps, Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumors”, Queen’s Greatest Hits, AC/DC’s “High Voltage”, along with some CD mixes that your brothers had probably given you, but he was surprised to find a few CD’s of bands that he had never even heard of before. “Blink-182?” He asked, holding up the disc with a picture of a bull with the band’s logo branded into its ass.

“David really likes them. They’re okay, there’s a few songs on there that I like, but some of them are really weird. I’m pretty sure there’s a song on there called “Dick Lips”.” You snickered, peeking over at the other CD’s Javi was shuffling through. “Oh, oh, that album is amazing.” You pointed at the dark blue disc Javi was now reaching up to grab. “David and Charlie both love these guys. You know the band Nirvana? The guy who was the drummer for them made his own band after Kurt Cobain died. I’ve been listening to this album every time I drive.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you play it around the apartment. The Foo Fighters? Literally never heard of ‘em.” He shrugged, pressing the disc into your car radio.

“I think you’d probably would’ve remembered if I played them around the house.” You huffed under your breath sheepishly. “They’re a little more… intense than what I normally listen to at home, so no judgment, okay? Skip to the second song, it’s the best one.”

“Now I’m intrigued.” Javi responded, placing his hand on your leg after skipping to track 2, his face scrunching in surprise at the intensity of the guitar and drums now blaring through your speakers. It didn’t take long for you to start drumming against your steering wheel, nodding your head to the beat, as you sang along to the words.

“Don’t wanna be your monkey wrench. One more indecent accident. I’d rather leave than suffer this. I’ll never be your monkey wrench.”

Javi watched as you lost yourself in the song, belting the lyrics as you banged against the steering wheel, practically out of breath as the CD moved on to the next track from singing. Javi always loved watching you sing along to whatever music you had playing, but something about watching you now was different, like there was intention behind every word that you sang along to, like you were letting something out that had been weighing on your chest with every thud of your palm against the steering wheel.

“Sorry.” You sighed, lowering the volume of the next track as you caught your breath. “It’s a great song, but this is my angry screaming in the car song if I’ve had a shitty day.” You tried to play off your comment jokingly, Javi sensing that you had more you wanted to say, but you weren’t telling him.

“What’s the song called?” Javi asked, trying to pry more out of you.

“Monkey Wrench.”

“Like the tool?” He laughed, making sure he understood you correctly.

“Yes, like the tool.” You half smiled back. “The song’s not actually about the tool… Well, I guess it kind of is. It’s about someone who gets pushed around and used because they’ve always tried to be flexible and adjust to make someone else happy, but eventually they realize they can’t take it anymore, and are done putting up with that person’s shit before it breaks them. You finally come to terms with what a fucking waste of time it was being with someone who couldn’t have gave a shit about you.”

You sat there in silence for a moment, embarrassed by your last sentence, realizing your comment had definitely become a lot more personal than you had intended it to be. “Sorry, I don’t- I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this, I shouldn’t have said anything about the CD, this is supposed to be fun, it’s your birthday, and now I’m ruining it and-” You stopped to look down as you felt Javi squeeze your leg, like he was trying to stop the apology that was flowing from your mouth with his grasp around your thigh. “Sorry.” You whispered, your voice shaky as you tried to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. “I know I always joke about Paul being an asshole and try to play it off like it’s not a big deal, but I think it fucked with me a lot more than I’d like to admit.” You took a long breath in before exhaling, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. “Okay, that’s all I have to say about that dickhead. He doesn’t even deserve the time of day to take up any space in my head. He’s a piece of shit, and I have you, and that’s all that matters. He can go… He can go… eat… rocks.” The both of you snorted at your terrible attempt at comeback, easing the tension in the car.

“You’re not ruining anything, Osita. I promise. I can understand why the song makes you mad. Makes me fucking pissed for you. I swear, if I ever meet that motherfucker, I’ll kick him in the dick ‘till he can’t fucking walk.” Javi snarled, the idea of someone treating you like how your ex did practically making his blood boil.

“I’d pay money to see that. Okay, no more Foo Fighters. Pick whatever you want and don’t listen to any of my suggestions because I am 0 for 1 today on birthday music.”

Shuffling through the rest of the CD’s ejected the Foo Fighters album to replace it with one he knew would make you smile. As soon as the keyboard riff to “Rich Girl'' by Hall and Oats started, your mood instantly shifted, wondering how Javi always knew exactly how to make you feel better. “Listen, Javi, you don’t have to use the song, you can just tell me that you’re in this relationship for the enormous salary I’m raking in from teaching, it’s okay.” Javi reached down to grab your hand as you giggled, giving it a gentle squeeze as he watched you sing along, dancing in your seat, with a smile on your face. Truth be told, Javier Peña was a simple man, and knowing you were happy with him was the best birthday gift he could ask for.

“Okay, we’re here!” You beamed, pulling up to the first stop of your surprise destinations for the day. Javi had lived in Laredo his entire life- he knew the city like the back of his own hand. That’s why when you pulled up to the small park entrance, Javi was perplexed as to where he was, or why you had taken him there.

“Have I had it wrong this whole time, Osita? Are you the one that’s really the serial killer and you’re taking me out to some park I’ve never heard of to get rid of me?” Javi mocked as you playfully punched him before the two of you got out of the Jeep, grabbing the bag you had stored in the trunk.

“Oh, shut up. Believe it or not, your dad is actually the one who told me about this place. C’mon, let’s go.” You hoisted the bag up onto your shoulder, making your way down the gravel path through the trees that lined the trail. Javi followed behind you, interlocking his hand with yours as you led him through the brush. The path opened up, revealing a small area overlooking Lake Casa Blanca, tucked away in its own corner, surrounded by trees and tall grass that swayed in the gentle summer breeze. It took Javi a moment to realize where you were, having been to the lake every summer since he could remember, but never once had he been here, shocked to find how quiet and peaceful the secluded patch by the water was.

“Lake Casa Blanca?” He asked softly as you started pulling things out of your bag, laying down a big blanket, followed by a variety of containers and thermoses.

“Mmmhmmm.” You nodded, fixing the edges of the blanket as you sat down, Javi joining you as you rustled around for the bowls and spoons at the bottom of the tote. “Your dad said you used to love coming here as a kid. So much that you would cry every time you had to leave. But he said there was a secret place hidden away on the opposite side of the lake where he always used to take your mom when they first started dating. They would be all cute and watch the sunset together before he had to take her home for the night. I know it’s not the sunset, and I know it’s definitely not your mom’s but um, I wanted to try and make you something for your birthday. I got her recipe from your dad. I know it’ll never be the same as hers, but your dad told me how much you loved it, and I-I hope that’s okay.” Carefully, you poured the pozole into one of the bowls, grateful that it still looked hot before you grabbed some of the garnishes out of the plastic containers and sprinkled them on top of the stew.

“Is this… Is this her pozole?” He looked down at the bowl in shock, like he couldn’t even comprehend that the dish was really in front of him. He hadn’t seen the sight of his mom’s pozole de pollo in over a decade. He refused to eat anyone else’s, knowing it could never compare to his mamá’s. The memory of his mother lovingly feeding him bowls of the stew filled him with a comfort and heartache he wasn’t quite sure how to describe. He had never even bothered to ask his dad to make it, figuring like most of the things that brought him pain, it was easier just to avoid it all together. But then, there was you. How had you figured out this was his favorite? You must have gone out of your way to ask his dad? You made this just for him? You cared about him that much? He picked up the bowl and one of the spoons, realizing how nervous you looked as he scooped some up, bringing the spoonful of vegetables, chicken and broth to his mouth.

You were practically holding your breath as he took a bite, praying to whatever higher power there was that he just didn’t hate it, or worse, that he was upset with you for even trying to attempt it in the first place. You watched hesitantly, over-analyzing every twitch of his face as he chewed and swallowed, looking up at you, tears welling behind his eyes.

“Baby…” He paused for a moment, setting the pozole down.

Fuck, was it so bad that you made him cry? Oh please, God, please not let it be terrible.

He brought his hand to your cheek, caressing your jaw, his lips drawn in a soft sweet smile. His voice trembled, barley above a whisper. “It tastes just like hers. I-I never thought I’d get to taste that again. Thank you, Osita. You- You have no idea how much this means to me. It means everything. Thank you. Thank you so much.” A tear gently rolled down his cheek as he pulled you into his chest, cradling the back of your head as he brought you closer to him. He sat there for a moment, looking out at the lake then back down at you as he held you in his arms, the sweet scent of the pozole lingering in the peaceful silence. He wasn’t quite sure how you did it, but he swore he fell more and more in love with you by the second.

“So, it’s okay? You’re not mad?”

“Mad? Baby, how could I possibly be mad? I couldn’t be fucking happier. I love you so much.” He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head, savoring the sweet scent of you as he buried his nose in your hair.

“Well if it was really awful, it would be very fair if you were upset.” You let out a small huff of laughter, relief washing over your body, feeling like you could finally breathe again. “Like I said, I know it can never replace your mom’s, but it’s your birthday, and you deserve everything in the world- today and every other day. I love you too, Javi.”

You were glad you had made as much pozole as you did, watching Javi practically inhale every last drop you had made. When you told him that there was still more in the fridge at home, his face lit up like a little boy on Christmas day. He was equally excited for the cupcakes you had made him, gobbling several of them down almost as quickly as the pozole. You sat at the edge of the water after finishing your food, listening to Javi tell you stories of his favorite memories at the lake, particularly enjoying the one where his older cousin had convinced him that you were allowed to take fish from the lake home as pets, and somehow managed to bring a full bucket back to the car with him before his parents found out.

“Did you ever have any real pets as a kid?” You asked, finishing the last bite of your cupcake, still giggling from Javi’s story.

“Besides all the cows and sheep and horses?” He laughed, face palming yourself for forgetting that Javi had literally grown up on a farm. “Yes in that sense, but never anything that lived in the house, besides that bucket of fish I almost got away with if my cousin wouldn’t have ratted me out.”

“My house was a goddamn zoo growing up. I think by the time I was born, my parents already knew it was going to be chaos, so they figured, what were a few more animals going to do? I’m pretty sure at one point we had 3 dogs, a cat, Charlie had a rat and a snake which did not end well, and one day, Patrick and David came home from the pet store with an iguana, which only lived in the house for one day before escaping out the bedroom window at night, never to be seen again. Rumor is, that iguana is still roaming through the suburbs of Chicago to this day.” The both of you laughed, Javi raising an eyebrow, picturing you with all your brothers and animals running around the house. “After all of that, I am more than happy with just a dog, singular, not plural. I was close to adopting one when I moved down here, Paul hated animals- another red flag, despite how much I told him I wanted one, but it wouldn’t have been fair with me living in the apartment. I wanted to get a house when I moved down here so I could have a yard, but again, the giant teacher salary wasn’t doing me any favors, unless I wanted to live in a box by the side of the highway.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog. I’d love to have one when we get a house.”

We. When we get a house. That one put butterflies in your stomach.

“When we get a house, huh?” You put a little emphasis on the word, the both of you blushing, quietly laughing to yourselves.

“I mean, I love your apartment. I couldn’t be more fucking excited to live with you. But I mean- I don’t know, correct me if I’m wrong, I’m guessing you don’t wanna live there forever?” He traced his fingers along the small of you back as he sat propped up next to you.

“I mean no, but again, not really rolling in cash over here in the money department, Jav.” You rolled your eyes, a part of you feeling guilty that your career choice always made you feel like a financial burden, despite how good you were with saving your money.

“Listen…I don’t wanna sound like an asshole. I already know how much you hate the “I’m a man so I have to provide for you” stereotype, believe me. I’ve got a good amount of money saved up, and my job now pays better than the DEA even did. I just- I don’t want you to worry about it. I know how much you love teaching, and it’s un-fucking-fair how little teachers make, but I don’t ever want you to think you’re a burden because of it. I’d support you if you wanted to have 6 jobs, because if there’s anyone who could do it, it would fucking be you. But, I- I know you said that you wanted kids, and- and if you ever wanted to not work and stay at home with them, I’d support that too. I just want you to be happy, Osita. You deserve the world and I’d fucking give it to you if I could.”

Those sweet chocolate eyes went straight to your heart. The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the only person on the face of this earth. He was right, you loathed the idea of a man telling how to live your life because he was the breadwinner, but you knew that’s not what Javi wanted. He cared about you. He cared about you so fucking much that almost hurt. He wanted to look after you because you were the only person in the world he ever wanted to treat this way. All he cared about was your happiness. And God, would more than gladly spend the rest of your life doing the same for him.

“You trying to tell me you want me to stay at home and run the Peña household zoo while you’re at work?” You teased, giving him a little nudge as you smiled at him.

“If that’s what you want, it’s what I want too. Although I may have to draw the line at having a fucking iguana in our house.” The two of you snorted, resting your head on Javi’s shoulder as he leaned down to kiss your head, placing a soft peck on your temple.

“No iguanas is fine by me. Like I said, A dog is plenty. Maybe less kids than 4, but I could also be jaded from the 3 older brothers. But I mean- I guess, have you thought about how many kids you’d want?” You should have been embarrassed by how easily the question slipped out. There are lots of things you should have felt uncomfortable bringing up as you talked about your future together at this point in your relationship. You should of, but both of you seemed to agree that those should of’s flew out the window a long time ago.

“Osita…” He paused, laughing to himself, shaking his head as he and those puppy dog eyes glanced over at you. “Baby, I’ll give you however many kids you want. I’ll give you a fucking football team if that’s what makes you happy.” Fuck, he’d give you a baby today if that’s what you wanted- but that’s one he still had enough willpower to keep as a should of, for now. Little did he know, you would have had as many babies as Javi wanted to give you right this very second. But that was a should of you could keep to yourself a little longer too.

The two of you spent a little more time enjoying the warm Texas sun by the edge of the water, Javi bruising your competitive pride in your rock skipping competition, as you tried to persuade him that you only let him win because it was his birthday. Glad that Javi had decided to wear his new watch, you were able to keep a close eye on the time, gathering your things and ushering him to your last pit stop before the Peña ranch.

“Alright, stop number two!” You smiled as you pulled up to Eva’s Dairy Barn. “Wouldn’t be a good birthday if I didn’t take you for ice cream.”

“I was hoping this would be part of the surprise.” He grinned at you as the two of you exited your car, grabbing your hand as you stood in line.

“Of course, Mr. Sweet Tooth. What’s today’s choice? They have a flavor that’s called birthday cake! Or does that not have enough sprinkles for you?” You stuck your tongue out at him as he wrapped you in a bear hug, shaking you as you both laughed.

“Even on my birthday, you’re not gonna let me have a moment of peace, are you?”

“Never. Where’s the fun in that?”

You had never been more thankful for Javi’s incredibly fast eating skills, the impressive speed that he consumed his ice cream at keeping you on time for his last surprise.

“You sure my dad really wants to see me that badly? I told him I was spending the day with you and that we could celebrate a different time.” Javi asked as the two of you got in your car to begin your journey to the Peña ranch.

“Uh, yeah, he called the other day while you were at work, and said that he had something at the house he really wanted to give you today since it’s your actual birthday.” You replied, trying your best to make your lie as convincing as possible. It wasn’t until just now that you began to feel the nerves building in your belly. The day had already been so perfect, you hadn’t stopped to think about the surprise party until now. What if Javi hated it? What if he was mad at you for inviting all of these people? What if you had ruined what had already been such an amazing birthday for him? Javi could clearly sense that your mood had shifted, noticing how tightly you were now gripping the steering wheel of your car as you drove.

“You okay, Hermosa?” He questioned, looking over at you with concern.

C’mon, pull it together, you literally have like 20 more minutes, don’t ruin it now.

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine, my head just kind of hurts. Probably didn’t drink enough water today.” You shrugged, turning up the radio volume, your answer seeming to satisfy Javi enough to keep him from pressing anymore. You tried your best to keep your cool for the rest of the trip, singing along to one of the Rolling Stones albums Javi had found tucked behind one of your other CD’s. By the time you were pulling down the driveway, you could feel how sweaty your palms were, relieved to see that Javi hadn’t noticed any of the guests’ cars peeking out from behind the other side of the barn as you approached the house. He reached over the center console to give you a quick kiss before the two of you exited, taking a few deep breaths and frantically wiping your clammy hands on your dress before Javi interlaced his fingers with yours to walk up to the house.

“Hey Pops, we’re here!” Javi announced, opening the door for the both of you. He stepped a little further into the living room, a concerned look now growing across his face at the lack of response. “Dad?” He called out again to the sound of silence. Javi wandered a little deeper into the home, peeking his head into the kitchen and down the hallway as he looked back at you in confusion. “That’s weird, he’s normally done working by now.” He looked around, placing his hands on his hips before looking down at you, crossing your arms and biting your lip.

“You promise you love me and you’re not gonna be mad at me?” You asked, scrunching your brow.

“Baby, what is going on?” His face now even more puzzled.

“You promise?”

“Of course I promise, Osita, what is happening, why are you being so weird?” He now mirrored your stance, crossing his arms over his chest, trying his best not to panic. You grabbed his hand, leading him towards the door of the backyard patio, letting out one last little gulp before you spoke.

“I love you more than anything in the world, Jav. I know you said you don’t think that anyone cares about you or your birthday, but there are so many people who love you, me included, who think that you deserve to have the most amazing day ever. I know you don’t believe it, but I do, and so does everyone else.” You pressed up on your toes to give him one last kiss before opening the sliding glass door, watching him walk out to the back porch. He looked around to see the balloons, streamers and string lights hanging from the deck as you stood behind him, giving a thumbs up to Chucho, who had all of the party guests hidden on the side of the house. He turned back around to face towards you, completely bewildered.

“Osita, what’s going-”

“SURPRISE!”

Javi spun around to see not one, not ten, but a crowd of people now standing at the bottom of the deck, smiles stretched across their faces as they looked up at him. At first, he thought it was a joke. He looked back at you, nodding your head in reassurance, like you could read his mind.

Yes, these people are all really here for you, pendejo.

He looked back out into the sea of people standing in the backyard, now realizing just how many people had shown up just to celebrate him. His whole family- Aunts, uncles, cousins, and their children, his family friends, your 3rd grade co-workers, Carter and Miller, fucking Steve Murphy? And Connie? He turned around to face you one more time, tears welling in his eyes, truly in disbelief. “Baby… Did you… Did you do this all for me?” He cupped your face, cradling your cheek.

“Yes, well me and your dad. Just about killed me to try and keep it a secret this long, I think I was gonna spontaneously combust if I had to tell you another lie.” Your gaze was soft and tender as you stared up at him, letting out a little laugh at the state of disbelief Javi was still in. “Happy Birthday, Javi. Te amo.”

Taking his hands and grasping both sides of your face, Javi pulled you in closer, his mouth meeting yours with a passion that made your heart flutter, his kiss was deep and intense. It was almost enough to drown out the hooting and hollering of the crowd you forgot was watching you from the yard, Javi pulling away in laughter as he heard, who he assumed to be Steve’s loud “OW OWWWWW!” as the two of you found yourselves dangerously close to making out in front of Javi’s friends and family. Chucho joined you on the deck, his grunt from each step of the stairs giving away his presence as you ran over to give him a hug.

“Lo hicimos, Chucho. Buen trabajo, Chiflado.” (We did it, Chucho. Nice work, crazy.)

“Lo hicimos, Mija. Ven aquí, Javier. (We did it, mija. Come here, Javier).” Chucho held out his arm, motioning for Javi to join them in their group hug.

“Feliz cumpleaños!” (Happy birthday!) you both beamed up at Javi, wrapping your arms around him. At that moment, Javi didn’t care how tough of a man he thought he was. He didn’t care that he was in front of almost everyone he knew. He didn’t care what anyone thought. The sight of the two of you wrapped around his waist, laughing and smiling together as you held him brought him to tears. You were the two people he cared about more than anything in this world, and the fact that you both cared about him just as much made him weak in the knees. For a very long time, Javi had convinced himself that he wasn’t worth caring for. Sure, people would say they cared, but words were really nothing but- They were just words. But then there was you. Your words, your actions, your kindness, your sweet heart. You. Everything about you. You cared about him. You loved him. For the first time in a very long time, Javier Peña could feel himself finally starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he really was worth caring for.

Chucho grabbed his son by the arm, giving him a firm grasp, as he too, wiped the tears rolling down his cheeks. “Te amo, hijo. Me enorgullece el hombre que eres. Yo se tu madre estaría tambien. Feliz cumpleaños, Javier.” (I love you, son. I am so proud of the man you've become. I know your mother would be, too. Happy birthday, Javier). You watched as the two of them embraced, Chucho patting Javi on the back, squeezing him tightly before pulling away and pointing at you. “She’s a good one. You better marry this girl, Javier. And not just because I want my nietos (grandkids).” That one had both your faces turning an embarrassing shade of red as Chucho pulled you both back in for a hug before letting you go to address the crowd.

“Vamos de fiesta!” (Let’s party!)

As the upbeat music began to play in the background, Javi grabbed you by the hand, leading you down the deck into the crowd below. It was no surprise to either of you that the first voice that greeted you was one you hadn’t heard since the beginning of june.

“MIJAAAAAAAAA!” Maria screeched as she wrapped her arms around the two of you, squeezing you in for a hug before pulling away with a staunch frown on her face. “Why have neither of you called?! Apparently you two are in love and I have to hear it from Chucho?! Dios Mio, I cannot believe it!” You and Javi laughed as she swatted at the both of you, the two of you grimacing between your giggles.

“Sorry, Maria.” Javi replied, leaning back down to kiss her on the cheek, easing some of her theatrics.

“Fine, I will forgive you. Only because it is your birthday. As long as I am invited to the wedding, I won’t complain.” She pointed a finger at Javi as he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath.

“Maria… Please?” He looked down at her, giving your hand a little squeeze as you quickly caught him smirk in your direction.

“Oh, pshhhhhh.” She waved her hand at him again, rolling her eyes. “I already know it will happen, so just keep me on the guest list. I really am glad to see you both so happy. Feliz cumpleaños, Javier.” This time, she ended her sentence with a genuine smile, bringing you back for one last hug before giving a wave and heading back into the crowd.

“Well… This school year’s gonna be fun.” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, the both of you knowing Maria was about to be a relentless investigator in your relationship once September rolled around. “I’m gonna go check on something inside really quick, are you gonna be okay if I leave you to fend for yourself?” You smiled at him, telling that as thankful as he was, Javi was still feeling a little overwhelmed by all the attention. He nodded, giving you a quick kiss on the head as you disappeared to make sure everything had made it to its proper place before the party kicked into full swing.

Javi took a deep breath, relieved to find his dad approaching him, already holding out a beer in his hand for his son to take. “Figured you might need a little liquid courage.” Chucho chuckled, patting Javi on the back. Javi quickly took the can, cracking it open and holding it up to cheers with his dad, taking an extra long sip before holding it by his side.

“She really planned all this?” Javi grinned at his dad in disbelief, looking out at the crowd around him.

“Sure did, hijo. She’s been planning it for weeks, been over here more times than I can count while you’ve been at work. She wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you. That girl loves you so much, Javier. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

Javi watched as you made your way back down from the deck, awestruck by every inch of you as you made your way back to him. Looking at you was like looking at a fucking dream. He was the luckiest man on the face of the earth. He knew that for damn sure. Before Javi could respond to his dad, he felt two hands grab him by the shoulders and shake him from behind, already knowing exactly who it was from the moment he heard his voice.

“Happy birthday, you grumpy old bastard.”

Never in his life did Javi think that he would be so excited to see Steve Murphy.

“Hey, Murph.” Javi chuckled, grabbing Steve in a tight embrace, the two patting each other's backs before pulling away.

“Fuck, you look old. What’d ya turn this year, 76?”

“Fuck off, Murphy. Could say the same for you.” It had been years since the two had seen each other, but the way Javi and Steve picked right back up where they had left off made it feel like not even a day had passed between them.

“Havin’ kids will do that to ya. Sure it won’t be long ‘till you find that out. Speakin’ of which, where’s the girlfriend?” Steve winked, taking a sip of his beer as Javi took an over exaggerated sigh, raising his own beer up to his mouth, relieved to find you walking up to the two of them.

“Oh, you already got a drink? Okay, two for me then, I guess.” You shrugged, setting one of your beers down in the grass as Javi wrapped his hand around your hip, planting a kiss on your temple. “You must be Steve?” You asked, outstretching your hand toward his tall, lanky frame.

“You must be the girlfriend?” He replied mischievously.

“I wish. He’s just paying me to walk around with him all night to make him look good. Felt bad for the guy with it being his birthday and everything. What’d you say your name was again? Julio?” You snorted as you looked up at Javi, shaking his head as you nudged his side.

“Fuck, she’s funny. I like her, Jav.” Steve grinned at Javi, raising an eyebrow.

“You two are both the biggest pain in my ass I think I’ve ever met.” Javi retorted, smirking at you as he gave you a little nudge back.

“Well, at least he’s got a type.” You held up your drink up to Steve’s, the both of you laughing as a petite blonde haired woman approached with 2 little girls behind her and one in her arms.

“Hi Javi.” She smiled warmly, passing the baby off to Steve as she gave Javi a hug. “It’s so good to see you. Hope Steve isn’t already giving you too much of a hard time.”

“Thanks, Connie. Good to see you too. Con, this is my girlfr-”

“Girlfriend? I had a feeling. Steve told me all about you. It’s really nice to meet you.” Connie reached her arms out towards you, pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s really nice to meet you too, thank you so much for coming.” You smiled at her, looking over at the two girls behind her. “Are these your daughters?”

“Oh yes, this is Olivia and Abby, and the little one is Madison. Can you say hi, girls? Javi used to work with your dad a long time ago!” Connie cooed at the girls, playing with each other behind their mom.

“Hi!” The girls waved shyly before darting behind Connie’s legs, giggling to one another.

You and Javi both waved back as you crouched down on your knees to talk with them. “So Olivia and Abby, how old are you?”

“10!” Olivia responded, trying to pull her sister away from Connie to get a better look at you. “Abby’s 6 but she’s really shy.”

“I am not!” Abby demanded, stomping her foot at her sister. “I’m almost 7, so I won’t be 6 for much longer.”

“Well it looks like we have two birthdays to celebrate!” You smiled as Abby peeked a little further from out behind her mom. “So let me guess, you girls are going into 5th grade and 1st grade? I teach 3rd grade, so I’m right in between you two!” The girls' faces lit up instantly as you told them about your profession.

“I wanna be a teacher when I’m a grown up!” Olivia beamed, tugging at Connie’s sleeve. “Mommy, do you think she’ll play unicorns with us?” Abby now bouncing up and down in excitement next to her.

“Oh sweetie, I don’t-”

“No it’s okay!” You interjected, cutting off Connie. “Of course I can play. Just for a little bit though. I’m sure playing with you is way more fun than talking with grownups, but I promised Javi I’d spend time with him tonight because it’s his birthday, okay?” You stood up, now facing Javi looking like he hadn’t heard a single word you had just said. “Jav?”

“Uh yeah, sorry, what’d you say?” He shook his head, trying to clear the strangely comforting feeling he had growing in his chest with how sweetly you had talked to the girls.

“You okay if I go hang with these two cuties for a little while? Unless you’re also dying to go play unicorns, in which case I'm sure the girls will let you join since it’s your birthday.” You gestured back over to Olivia and Abby, laughing as you watched them already pretending to gallop around the backyard.

“I’m good on the unicorns, thanks Osita.” He chuckled as you pressed up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss before heading off to join the girls.

“THERE’S NO KISSING IN UNICORNS!” Olivia shouted from across the yard making you, Connie, Steve and Javi burst out into hysterics, holding up your arms like you had been caught, turning around to point at Javi and give him a playful stank face as you walked away.

“Goddamn, Jav. When you puttin’ a ring on that girl’s finger?” Steve and Connie both smirked as he passed baby Madison back over to her, Connie carrying her over to watch where the girls were playing.

“Murph, c’mon-” Javi tried to stop him from getting any further before he knew how much shit Steve was about to throw his way, regardless of what his answer was.

“I’m bein’ serious, Javi. She’s a fuckin’ catch. Happiest I’ve ever seen you, that’s for sure. What the hell you waitin’ for, man?” Javi could tell Steve was being genuinely serious, something that didn’t happen often. Javi took another sip of his near empty drink as he rested his hands on his hips, staring back at Steve’s impatient glare.

“I don’t know, Steve. I- She’s perfect. Fuck, I don’t know, it’s only been 3 months, I don’t wanna rush things or scare her off, I- I didn’t know you could love someone this much, Murph. I’m scared I’m gonna fuck it up somehow.” Javi’s gaze shot down to the ground, running his hands through the dark curls of his hair before setting his can down in the grass.

“Listen, I’ll say one more thing and then I’ll shut up about it, I promise.” Steve held his hands up in defense as Javi nodded, waiting for what Steve had to say. “I dated someone before Con for 3 fuckin’ years and it blew up in my face because it just wasn’t it. I met Connie two weeks later, and I knew from the moment I met her I wanted to spend the rest of my fuckin’ life with her. Got married 10 months later. When ya know, ya know, Jav. And if there’s one thing I can tell for certain is that you’re fuckin’ lovesick fool for her, and she sure as hell loves you too. You won’t mess anything up, Peña. Now c’mon, I got a lotta birthday whiskey I need to give you.”

Looking over Steve’s shoulder, Javi watched as you ran around with Olivia and Abby, that bright beautiful smile stretched across your face, his heart bursting as he watched you laugh and giggle with the girls in the grass. He hated to admit that Steve was right about anything, but there wasn’t a doubt in Javi’s mind that he wasn’t. He’d marry you tomorrow. He would have married you yesterday. Fuck, he would have married you 2 months ago. God, the only thing stopping him at this point was not wanting to hear the 10 pounds of shit Steve was going to give him during the best man speech at his wedding.

Despite getting roped into playing Unicorns for a little longer than you had intended, the party seemed to be going off without a hitch. People were having fun, the food Chucho had grilled was delicious, and more important than anything else, Javi was happy. Genuinely happy. You were worried that with the amount of people who had come, Javi would be overwhelmed by the attention, counting down the minutes until the night was over. It had shocked you how many times Javi had thanked you not only for everything you had done for him that day, but for inviting so many people that he had barely seen since his mom had passed. He was so excited to introduce you to the rest of his family that you hadn’t met yet, and found himself on the brink of tears as you tried to converse with them in Spanish, finding out that part of the reason you had spent so much time with Chucho was to learn more so you could talk to the people he cared about the most in their native language. It made him burst with pride how each friend and family member he introduced you to couldn't express enough how much they loved you, and how happy they were for him. Truth be told, the only thing that Javi had to even try to complain about was the fact that you still made everyone sing him Happy Birthday and blow out the candles on the cake you had made. Even when he told you that you were mad about it, Javi knew that you could see right through him, and that he couldn’t have been more thankful for every single thing you had done for him that day.

Long after the sun had set below the horizon of the Peña ranch, the party was still in full swing, the string lights you and Chucho had hung along the deck now lighting up the boisterous dance floor the patio had become. Despite his genuine happiness, you were more than convinced that Steve’s birthday whiskey definitely had something to do with the fact that Javi asked you to go dance with him, but wasn’t quite enough liquid courage to keep him on the dance floor as you tried to drag him back out to do the Macarena with you and his tías. After a few of his cousins had dragged him inside for another beer, Javi found himself sitting at the kitchen table, still getting a good view of you on the porch as you sang and danced away. Javi took a sip of his drink, letting out a content sigh as he leaned back in the chair and watched Steve fumble his way into the kitchen, holding Madison with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Thank God, there you are. Can you watch her, please?” Steve outstretched the baby girl out to Javi, panting like he had sprinted to come find him.

“Steve, what? Are you sure that-?” Javi looked back at Steve suspiciously, leaving Madison dangling between the two of them as Steve practically set her in Javi’s lap.

“Listen, I got two little girls out in the backyard fightin’ over who the hell gets to be the purple mermaid, Con’s out at the car tryin’ to get the girl’s pajamas, so either you take the baby, or go help Olivia and Abby decide who the goddamn purple mermaid is cause I can’t do both.” Sensing the desperation in his tone, Javi took Madison in his arms as Steve went as quickly as he came through the kitchen. “Word of advice, Jav?” Steve yelled across the room as he moved towards the door.

“Yeah, Murph?”

“Don’t let the kids outnumber you.”

Javi chuckled to himself as he looked down at the baby now sitting in his lap. “Guess it’s just you and me, huh?” Javi shrugged as Maidson as he bounced her in his lap. Javi had never really understood why people were so obsessed with babies, considering that they didn’t really do much. But as Javi listened to Madison babble and squeal as he rocked her up and down, he found himself with a grin stretched across his face that he was definitely not expecting. Now on a mission to get another cute reaction out of her, Javi held Madison in his arms, making goofy faces at her as her happy shrieks and coos continued.

Realizing that Javi had been gone for a good amount of time, you looked around the yard, finding that Javi was nowhere in sight. Chucho mentioned something to you about seeing Javi head into the house with his primos (cousins) not too long ago, so you decided to make your way through the crowd to see if you could find him.

“Oh hey, there you are, Hermosa!” you heard Javi’s voice greet you, your back still turned to him as you closed the door behind you.

“Hi, birthday boy! I was looking for-”

Oh.

Oh, dear lord.

The sight you had stumbled upon was nothing that you could have mentally prepared yourself for. It hadn’t helped that for some reason, Javi seemed to be a kid magnet- every child at the party wanting to come up and talk to him or wish him happy birthday. That in itself would have been fine. But what really sent you over the edge was the fact that he was so goddam sweet with every single one of them. Like when you had watched as he crouched down to talk with one of his youngest cousins, listening intently as he told Javi all about his soccer team, or hug one of Estelle’s granddaughters who had made him a birthday card, Javi thanking her in that same sweet voice you had heard him use with animals. It practically melted to the ground as you watched him wrap his arms around her, telling her “Que hermosa! Muchos gracias! (So pretty! Thank you so much!) As she handed him the card. That alone was enough to turn you into a puddle. But now, here you were, looking at Javier Peña, making the sweetest silly faces to the baby he had sitting on his lap. You were ready to run home and toss your birth control out the fucking window.

“You okay, Osita?” Javi asked, waiting for you to finish the rest of your sentence.

“Yup. I am great. I am doing perfectly fine. I am feeling SUUUUPER normal about what’s happening right now.” You gestured to Javi, now propping Madison against his shoulder as he stood up.

Oh my GOD, is he broad. That man could easily fit 3 more babies in his arms. I’m about to get him to put 3 more babies in- NO. STOP. STOP THIS RIGHT NOW. You aren’t even close to being engaged yet, let alone married, you idiot. You cannot have this man’s babies right now. Well, I meannnnn, I guess I- NO. Self control. Pull it together, you hormonal monster. Jesus Christ.

Javi shook his head as he laughed to himself, almost as if he could hear the internal monologue going on in your head as you watched him carry Madison over to you. “What?” He smirked at you, bouncing the baby girl in his arms.

“Don’t you what me, Javier Jesús Peña. You expect me to walk in on you holding a baby and just be normal about it? Here, let me hold her before I look at you any longer and my ovaries burst.” You reached up as Javi passed Madison over to you, holding her only for a brief moment before Steve came rushing back in, snatching her out of your arms.

“If Connie asks, I had her the whole time and the girls didn’t have two extra pieces of cake to stop the mermaid argument.”

Before either of you could say another word, Steve was back out of the kitchen, rushing through the patio door. His swift entrance and exit left you and Javi alone, standing dangerously close to one another, the sexual tension between the two of you so thick, a chainsaw wouldn’t have been able to cut through it. You were using any and all self control you had to not pounce on Javi after watching him hold that baby, but he clearly seemed to have even less restraint than you.

“C’mere.” Javi rasped, his mouth moving faster than his brain as he grabbed your wrist to pull you down the hallway into his room, frantically closing and locking the door behind him. In seconds, your lips crashed into each other, moans escaping from your mouths in between each breath, as your hands grasped at tight fistfuls of the other’s clothing. Javi’s tongue swept into your mouth, kissing you like his life depended on it, the both of you becoming so needy and desperate in each other's arms. Javi’s hands hiked up the hem of your dress, sliding against your thighs before wrapping his arms under your legs, hoisting you up and carrying you into the ensuite attached to his room, using his back to push open the door. He set you down on the counter, quickly pressing the lock to the bathroom before he was back to nipping at your neck, the palms of his hands pressing against every inch of your body as he slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

“Javiiii…” You whined in between his frantic kisses. “Javi, we can’t do this here, all your friends and family are outside, this is a bad idea.” Your words were less convincing than ever as you ran your hands through Javi’s hair, tugging at the ends of his thick, brown locks, wrapping your legs around the small of his back to pull him closer to you.

“I don’t care. Fuck, I need you right now.” He planted hot, wet kisses along your neck and chest, pushing down the top of your dress, leaving your breasts exposed, your nipples pebbling against the cool air and Javi’s touch. He swiped his tongue against each, flicking and swirling them in his mouth as he dug his fingers into your hips, making it harder and harder to keep your moans quiet.

“Javi, we can’t. What if someone finds us? I want your family to like me, and I’m pretty sure one of them walking in on us isn’t gonna help my case very much.” You couldn’t even bother trying to convince yourself at this point. You could already feel how wet the fabric of your underwear was, slick pooling along your thighs as you and Javi practically clawed at each other, feverishly desperate and worked up.

Javi smirked, shaking his head as hooked his fingers around the waistband of your panties, letting them fall to the floor as they slid down your legs. “You don’t have to worry about that, baby. They fucking love you. You know what everyone keeps asking me, huh?” He took his hand, placing it under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet with the dark, lustful pools of his eyes, the other sliding up your bare thigh, his fingers sliding through your wet folds, collecting the arousal already dripping from them. “They keep asking me when I’m gonna marry you.”

He pushed his thick fingers into your heat, making you shutter as your hands white knuckled the edge of the marbled countertop. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it all fucking day. How fucking perfect you are, what good wife you’d be.” The calloused pad of his thumb pressed against your clit, the motion of him rubbing back and forth and his fingers pulsing in and out of you making you scrunch your face, your jaw hinged open, trying everything you could to keep quiet.

Javi would have loved to do nothing more than spend the rest of the night making you cum over and over again, but the both of you knew now wasn’t the time or place to keep things drawn out. He pulled his fingers out of you, making you bite down on your tongue to keep from whimpering as Javi worked at his belt, hearing the buckle clink as he pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free as it flung out from under the waistband of his underwear, already throbbing and leaking precum from its tip. Javi spitting on his hand to stroke himself before collecting the slick around your entrance and pushing deep inside your heat. Javi held his hand up over your mouth, trying to keep from screaming into his palm as the sweet stretch of his length felt like it was splitting you open. “Shhhhh, I know baby.” He mewled, reaching his free hand down to once again rub against your throbbing bundle of nerves. “Gotta be a good girl and keep quiet for me, okay?” You nodded frantically as he took his hand off your mouth, biting down on your lip as his thrusts became quicker, pounding into you with a desperate intensity. “Jesus you’re so fucking wet. Does it turn you on, Osita? Thinking about me being your husband?” The way Javi punched against your walls had you writhing, squeezing your legs tighter around his waist and burying your face in the crook of his neck, toes curling with each satisfying thrust. You were practically incoherent- the way his hips snapped ferociously against you, fingers circling against your clit, talking about being his fucking wife? You let your words babble from your brain straight to your mouth, unfiltered, as they fell from your lips.

“Fuck- oh my god - Yes, fuck, it turns me on so much. I think about it all the time. Fuck, I wanna marry you so bad, have your kids, I want all of it Javi. I want- Oh shit- I want all of it.” You could feel the tingle creeping from the base of your spine into your belly, digging your fingertips into the shirt stretched across the muscles of Javi’s broad back, crying out silently into his shoulder. The sounds that filled the air between you were wanton, hearing how wet you were as Javi slid in and out of you, his grunts strained against his gritted teeth, thrusting deeper and harder as he felt your pussy begin to flutter around him.

“Jesus- fuck me - Makes me so fucking hard thinking about it. Making you my fucking wife, putting a ring on your finger, fucking a baby into you. I’ll give it all to you, Osita.” You balled your fists around the fabric of his shirt, nearly ripping it off his back as you sobbed into his neck feeling how close you were. His free hand reached back up against your face, cupping over your mouth to muffle your moans, feeling you clench tighter and tighter around his cock. “That’s it baby. Let go. Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me.” The coil in your belly snapped as you whimpered into his palm, your orgasm overtaking you, body erupting with pleasure.

Hi Javi’s thrusts became sloppy and sporadic, frantically chasing his own high, desperate to fuck every last drop of himself into you. “Fuck, Hermosa, you’re so good to me, giving me the best fucking birthday- mierda - you’re fucking perfect. All fucking mine. Oh shit, fuck, baby, I’m- ahhhhhh.” With one last pulse, his seed spilled against the heat of your walls, his cock throbbing inside you, pushing every last drop of himself into your cunt. He slumped his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the sweaty curls of his hair stick to your skin as your chests rose and fell in sync. Javi hissed as he pulled out, feeling the mixture of the two of you drip down your legs. Running his two fingers along the inside of your still trembling thighs, he collected your spend, bringing it back to your entrance before pushing his thick digits back into your heat, making you gasp. “Gonna keep you full of me all fucking night, pretty girl.” He leaned down to kiss along the trail he had swiped up before traveling his lips up your body, stopping at your mouth. He reached down to grab your panties, pulling them back over your legs as he helped you down off of the counter, shuffling them over your ass as he gave it a quick smack before pulling your dress back down to its rightful position. You leaned against the counter as Javi brought his pants and boxers back around his waist, fastening his belt buckle, looking up to see you grinning at him.

“Did you mean what you said? About- about all that stuff?” You asked, biting down on your lip, heat building in your face as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Every fucking word, baby.” He cradled your cheek, running his thumb along your jaw, his face radiating with joy and content. “Osita, this has been the best fucking birthday I’ve ever had. Never in a million fucking years did I think someone would even care enough to remember my birthday, let alone do all this shit for me. I never wanna have another goddamn birthday without you. Today has been perfect. I’m ready to go and take you home to our apartment. Tú y yo, Osita. Para el restoro de mi vida (Me and you, Osita. For the rest of my life.) I love you so much.”

Before Javi could lean down to kiss you again, your bodies both froze in fear as you heard the doorknob to the bedroom rattling. “Fuck…” Javi muttered to himself. “Wait right here, okay? I promise I’ll make sure no one finds out you’re in here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.” He gave you a quick kiss on the head before carefully closing the ensuite door, trying his best to fix his hair and shirt as he heard knocking on the other end.

“Jav! It’s Steve. I know you’re in there, you sneaky son of a bitch.”

Javi groaned as he opened the door, stepping out of his room to find Steve smirking as he crossed his arms against his chest. “Whatchya doin’ in there, buddy?”

“Fuck off, Murphy, I just- I had to go get something really quick.” Javi’s eyes darted up and down the hallway to make sure no one else was around.

“Whatever ya say man. Hey listen, all the girls are cashed out in the car so we’re gonna hit the road. I just wanted to say it was so good to see you, Peña. The two of you need to come by sometime now that we’re close. I know I’ve given you a lot of shit over the years, but I mean it when I say I’m really fucking happy for you. Happy birthday, ya grumpy old bastard.” Steve pulled in Javi for a hug, giving him one last pat on the back before pulling away. “And Jav?”

“Yeah, Murph?”

“Your fly’s undone.”

“Oh, fuck…” Javi muttered, quickly reaching down to zip up his pants while Steve was trying to keep himself from cackling.

You snuck out of the bathroom to press against the doorway, trying to figure out who had almost caught you and Javi. Not realizing that Javi hadn’t closed the door all the way, you leaned just a little too hard, forcing it open as you sheepishly peeked your head out behind Javi.

“Bye, sweetheart.” Steve winked at you before heading down the hallway and disappearing around the corner, your face beet red knowing you had completely blown your cover.

“Bye Steve.” You muffled through the hand now completely covering your face in embarrassment before looking back up at Javi. “Better him than your dad, I guess? Or God forbid, Maria?” You both grimaced, the idea of either of those two finding you in the state Steve had making you shutter.

“Jesus, I can’t even think about that.” You both laughed as Javi snaked his hand around your waist, pulling you flush with his chest. “Whaddya say we head home, roomie?” The name making you grin as you hugged your arms around his hips, laying his head against the soft fabric of his shirt.

“Sounds good to me, birthday boy.”

The two of you made your way back out to the party, the number of guests dwindling from the late hours of the night the party had extended to. You said your goodbyes to the friends and family still lingering, making sure to give an extra long hug to Chucho, thanking him again for everything he had done to help make sure the party had gone perfectly.

“I can come over tomorrow if you need help cleaning up okay? Don’t need you complaining about your knees anymore than you already are.” You smiled, Chucho pulling you in for one last squeeze.

“Cabrón. Mis viejas rodillas están bien. (Asshole. My old knees are just fine). But if you wanted to come over tomorrow morning to help, I wouldn’t complain. I’m sure this one wants to come get the rest of his things and get out his old man’s hair once and for all.” He chuckled as he grinned at Javi, shaking his head at the two of you.

“Sounds good, we’ll see you tomorrow, Chucho. Thank you again. You’re the best. You ready, Jav?” You squeezed his hand, giving him a little nudge.

“Yeah, I just gotta ask Pops something real quick, I’ll meet you out by the car, okay?” He replied, giving you a kiss on the head as you gave Chucho one last wave before making your way back to the driveway.

“Qué necesitas, hijo?” (What do you need, son?). Chucho raised an eyebrow at Javi, watching his son fidget with his fingers, leg bouncing anxiously. Making sure you had disappeared from his sight, Javi looked around the crowd one more time before taking a shaky breath.

“I uh- I don’t need it now, but, I mean I’m still gonna give it some time- I um, I just wanted to know if, fuck, if um, I could- I could have mom’s ring?”

Chucho’s eye’s glistened, beaming at Javi as he wrapped his arm around his son. “Javier. That ring has been sitting on my nightstand since I got home from Maria’s party all those months ago. I’m just glad you finally asked and I didn’t have to put it in your pocket for you.”

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