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xynczachrome · 6 months
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Elemental of Lightning
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Vampire Chronicles by  Glen Orbik
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yourgirlsarchived · 1 year
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Officially on Semi-Hiatus Status. Most of my interaction will be on disco or via the queue. I am too lazy to tag the queue but unless you see me rapid replying to someone, it's a queue. <3
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cloudyfenrir · 2 months
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Squeak . SQUEAK . Squeak . SQUEAK. Puffy steps carried Baymax over to Cloud . He b e n t d o w n s l i g h t l y so that he was then level with Cloud .
" Hug init.iated . "
Without any warning , Baymax d r a p e d himself over Cloud .
" Warm.ing feat.ure activated. " And suddenly , he began to glow red as his entire body began to warm up . ✚
With Cloud's strange, sudden headaches getting more persistent lately they've begun to start making him feel drained and unwell when one hits particularly bad.
On his way to go have a lie down he hears... squeaks. Turning around he sees what looks like a giant marshmallow walking towards him. Before Cloud could think he's about to be attacked by the most least threatening ShinRa creation, they drape themselves over him. At first the red glow thought that the robot was going to explode but was greeted by a comforting warmth.
It honestly made him feel so much better, his body lightly leaned against Baymax. Hopefully the others didn't see.
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gfl-neural-cloud · 1 year
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Dear Professor,
Season 8 of Magrasea Battle Pass is going online! Purchase and raise Multichannel Battle Pass level for plenty of rewards including Unsheathed Edge, Aki's Projection in the Awakening Series! See the picture below for more details.
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yuutx · 13 days
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃, 𝐇𝐔𝐇 ? (𝐹𝒰𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒪 𝒯𝒪𝒥𝐼)
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fwb! fushiguro toji x f!reader ノ 18+ content. ノ nsfw + unprotected sex ノ raw sex ノ friends with benefits -> more ノ confessing during sex ノ slight self deprecation + insecurity on toji's side ノ marking ノ rough sex ノ choking kink ノ clit play ノ degrading kink ノ praise kink ノ size kinkノ creampie ノ mdom + fsub ノ not proofread ! ໒꒰♡◞ ˕ ก꒱১
'nother . . 'nother toji fic . um i swear i dnt even liek him dat much ! ! 's jus sumetimes he gives mi da feels so . . eheh ! art credits go to @/sso_s__ on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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Your mind was in a haze, a lustful fog clouding your senses, the smell of sex heavy in the air, sweat slipping down your temples. Your chest heaved, your breasts pressed up against Toji's firm pecs, the smooth, hard muscles a stark contrast to the softness of your tits. You shifted, your knees pressing into the mattress, the thick, veiny cock inside you twitching with raw need, the flared head brushing against your cervix, making you gasp. "Mm, such a good little slut, yer awful tight.." Toji's voice rasped, his lips brushing against your ear, his pants hot and heavy against the delicate skin. His large, calloused hands gripped your hips, his fingertips digging into the flesh, sure to leave bruises, the marks serving as proof of his ownership. You shivered, goosebumps spreading across your arms, the praise making your heart skip a beat. You were always a sucker for his dirty talk, the filthy words leaving him making you burn with lust, a fire sparking in the pit of your stomach. He nipped at your neck, his sharp canines grazing over your pulse, his hot tongue soothing the bite, lapping up the beads of sweat. "Ah-ahhh, o-oh, f-fuck, To-ji-iii..!!" You whined, wriggling your hips, a desperate attempt to create more friction, to feel him deeper inside you. "T-Toji, P-Ple-e-ease, To-ji.." You babbled, the words pouring from you without any filter, your thoughts a jumbled mess, a string of incomprehensible moans and mewls leaving you.
You were a wreck, a blubbering, quivering, needy, mess. Toji never failed to make you lose all control, to strip away your inhibitions, rendering you into a puddle of desire. His lips and teeth continued to work at your neck, his hips snapping, powerful thrusts jolting your whole body. Your nails dug into his shoulders, a squeal escaping you when his thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing tight circles over the tiny nub, his skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge. "To-Toji, m'g-gonna cum.." You warned, your walls clenching around him, the tension mounting, your body tensing, your muscles stiffening. You were in an intense state of pleasure, a mix of pain and bliss, a euphoric rush making your head spin. Your senses were heightened, the smallest touch enough to push you over the brink, the slightest brush against your clit setting you off. Your legs were shaky, your body weak, trembling. It was getting harder and harder to keep yourself upright, your thighs aching, burning. "Hah, is that right, baby girl? Ya gonna cum f' me?" Toji rasped, the sound sending sparks up your spine, a whimper tumbling from you. "C'mon, say it. What're ya, hm? Say it, baby. Tell me.." He coaxed, his movements speeding up, his thrusts rougher, harder, deeper. He was fucking you with wild abandon, the primal need for release driving him to the edge. "I-I'm y-your s-slut-t, Toji.." You cried, tears of pleasure pooling in the corners of your eyes. "Yer Toji's what?" A grunt left him, his cock twitching inside you. "Say it. Say. It. Now." His tone was harsh, his words firm, an order.
"I-I'm y-your s-sl-ut.." You mewled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his grip tightening, making it harder to breathe. "Y-your c-cock s-s-lut.." You squeaked, a choked sob spilling from you, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth, the wet, sticky substance running down your chin. "Damn fuckin' right.." He growled, his free hand moving from your clit to grab the underside of your thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, your leg resting on his shoulder. Toji pushed himself deeper inside you, burying his cock in the velvety heat, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, his movements erratic. He was losing his composure, his breathing growing more and more ragged, his groans and grunts coming in shorter intervals. His pace was brutal, his grip on you almost painful, the strength in his fingers making your head spin. Your sweet, high-pitched noises were driving him insane, his blood boiling, the heat in his gut burning him from the inside out.
His hand tightened around your neck, grasping the column of flesh, his thumb and middle finger pressing into the sides of your throat, the pressure enough to make you dizzy. A moan spilled from him, his hot breath fanning over your cheek, the air brushing over your damp skin, a chill running up your spine. He pressed his forehead against yours, his emerald eyes meeting your own. Your gaze was glazed over, your irises dilated, the thin ring of color around your pupils barely visible. The look in his eyes was downright animalistic, his pupils blown, his eyelids hooded, his gaze burning with hunger. "To-toji.." You choked out, his grip on you loosening slightly, allowing you to get a bit of air. You sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. "C-cum.. m'g-onna c-cum..! O-oh, fuck i-it feels s-so g-good, so, so g-go-ood-d-d..!" You wailed, a sob racking through your body. "C'mon, princess, be a good girl f' me, yeah?" He panted, his breath fanning over your lips. "Be a good girl and cum f' me. Show me how much ya love this dick.." He drawled, his tone low, the sound going straight to your core. Your back arched, a sharp, desperate cry leaving you, a gush of slick drenching Toji's cock, your walls fluttering around him. You came undone, your climax hitting you like a freight train, the intensity making you scream. "M-mm-mh! O-oh, fuck! Oh, fuck, l-love you, To-ji, love you so much-t-t..!" You babbled, the confession spilling from you. You didn't register what you'd said, the words flowing freely, a string of incoherent praises leaving you.
You were floating on a high, a blissful, euphoric feeling washing over you, your whole body buzzing. "F-fuck, baby girl, s' that right? Love me, hm? S' that why ya keep comin' back, yeah? S' that why ya keep lettin' me use this pretty little pussy of yers?" He teased, moans and groans of pleasure leaving him. "S' that why yer always so ready, so wet, so fuckin' perfect? Fuck, I knew ya loved this cock, but I didn't think ya'd love me.." He let out a breathless chuckle, his grip on your throat loosening, his fingers caressing the tender flesh, tracing patterns on your heated skin. His hips didn't falter, his thrusts never slowing, his stamina seemingly endless. He was determined to drag out your high, to keep you in a state of perpetual pleasure. Your chest was heaving, your body twitching, your limbs quaking, the waves of ecstasy making your body tremble. Your eyes fluttered shut, your head tilting back, a gasp tumbling from you. "Say it again." Toji ordered, a command, his voice firm, the demand leaving no room for debate. "Look at me. Open those pretty little eyes and say it. Tell me." He was desperate, the need to hear you say it again overpowering. It may not have seemed like it, but he needed the reassurance, the confirmation. He hadn't been told he was loved in years. Hearing the words spill from you had brought forth a slew of emotions he hadn't felt in ages.
You pried your eyes open, a smog stare meeting his own. Your cheeks were flushed, the pretty pink color painting your skin, the blush making you look all the more ethereal. You opened your mouth, a shaky exhale leaving you. "I l-love you, To-Toji.." You stammered, a yelp slipping past your lips, the sound in sync with his loud groan. Your body jolted, the sensation of warmth filling you to the brim making you whine. Toji's cock pulsated inside of you, ropes of pearly white seed coating your inner walls, painting them a milky shade. "F-fuck, baby- pussy's so good, s' so tight- shit, ya got me cummin' in ya, yeah? Feel that, hm? That's yer reward f' bein' such a good girl." He purred, his cock still throbbing, the twitching member sensitive. "Fuckin' hell.." He breathed, his grip on you finally loosening. He slipped his hands down to your hips, his fingers splayed across your back, the calloused pads brushing against your soft skin. "…Say it again." He requested, his tone quiet, softer. You were exhausted, a pleasant haze clouding your thoughts. "I-I l-love.. love yo-ou.." You mumbled, the words tumbling from you without much thought. The admission was sincere, a truth. You did love him. You hadn't meant to say it, but you'd meant it. The words had slipped out, a spur of the moment thing, a consequence of the haze. "…Yeah?" He questioned, his voice a low whisper, barely audible. You hummed, a sleepy noise, the sound muffled by the way you were pressed up against him.
"Makin' my heart flutter, fuck me.." He muttered, the words more to himself than to you. "Love ya too though, baby girl." He chuckled, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. "Fuckin' crazy, hm? Fell f' ya, fuckin' hell. Thought it was no strings attached. Thought we were just fuck buddies. Was wrong, obviously. Should've known better. Should've known that pretty face of yers would drive me insane." He shook his head, the movement ruffling your hair, the soft strands tickling his skin.
"Can't believe ya love this ugly mug. Ya really do like a bad boy, huh?" He smirked, his lips quirking into a crooked grin. "S' okay, though. Ya got me f' life. Gonna take real good care of ya, yeah? Gonna treat ya right, princess. S' gonna be me an' ya f'ever." He assured, his hands stroking your back. "S' long as ya love me. I'm all yers. Gonna protect ya, promise."
You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of cigarettes and cologne, basking in the feeling of having his arms wrapped around you, his cock softening inside you. You were spent, the post-sex bliss washing over you, the feeling of security and safety making you melt. "Rest up, yeah? Gotta recharge. We've got the whole night ahead of us, after all. Gotta give that little pussy a break before I ruin it again, don't I?"
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hoshieeyewrinkles · 4 months
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S t r a w b e r r y p r i n t e d
(nct dream x reader)
Tw warning: non-con, drugs uses, intoxication, humiliation, degradation, perv! Dreamies, angst ig. Minors dni
A/n: Y'all I wrote this when I was sleepy and tired af, didn't like how it went
Haechan, who sits next to you in class and becomes so casually friends with you that you never would have known he is a huge pervert, as are his friends who dared him to do so so they could all make crude remarks about you while he discreetly takes up skirt pictures of yours.
He would say as they jerked off together, "I told you she has the cutest cunt."
Haechan who buys you popsicles and candies watching you suck on them while he pretends to take your cute pictures. All while he is sending it in his group chat.
"y'all seeing this whore suck that popsicle like a dick?"
"Jaemin was right, he always has an eye for total sluts"
When you complain that you have no friends but him, Haechan offers to introduce you to his friends. You gladly agree because Haechan's friends are most likely as civil and fun as him.
You were surprised to be brought to a lavish mansion finding his friends smoking in, a cloud of smoke hung in the air, thick enough to almost be tangible. Their eyes, red nd glassy, seemed to pierce through you, each one a predator sizing up its prey. And then, you saw them. All incredibly handsome, impossibly so, their gazes fixed on you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Feeling like a deer caught in headlights, you stumbled towards the couch, collapsing beside Haechan. A ripple of laughter followed.
"Wanna try, sweetheart?" Jaemin's voice, smooth as honey, offered his joint. You shook your head, feeling his intense gaze like a physical weight on your skin. Nervousness gnawed at you, making your fingers flutter like trapped butterflies.
"Chill, Jaem," Mark chuckled, casually dropping into the space beside you and draping an arm across your shoulder. "You're scaring the poor thing."
Ignoring his touch, you kept your eyes glued to your lap, desperately avoiding their scrutiny.
"You know Haechan never shuts up about you," Jeno drawled, winking at the boy beside you. Haechan reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your plush thigh smirking at you. "His words got us all hooked, sweetheart," Chenle, the one with the designer clothes, purred, his dark eyes gazing through you "We just had to meet the girl who stole his attention."
Haechan tried to persuade you by putting his joint forward and saying, "Just one puff, baby." Not wanting to be a joy-killer, you took a puff after noticing their anticipatory stares and discovered that it was addictive after just one. It was impossible not to take another drag. It seemed as if the time passed by so quickly as you sat on Mark's lap and caressed his chest in a completely high state, the boys laughed at your eagerness, and Jisung pulled out his phone to record you. Marks stares back at you puffing out smoke on your face before pulling you in for a sloppy kiss while fondling your ass under your skirt.
"Oh my fucking god!" Jeno laughed in disbelief after seeing your strawberry printed panties. "I mean it kinda turns me on..." Chenle joined in the laughter. You continued to make out with Mark without a care in world, completely out of your senses.
Everything felt like a dream: you being stripped naked and left in your strawberry printed panties in a doggy position, Jeno rapidly fingering your ass, Jaemin and Mark latching onto your tits, your hands occupied with Chenle and Haechan's cocks and Jisung filming you guys.
Darkness took your senses, yet a tiny thought flickered, why did you find pleasure in this mess, this dirt and shame? Were you really this - someone begging for humiliation? To be assaulted by these boys and haechan- haechan was someone you trusted. You felt sick, your whole being screaming against this awful scene. Maybe, you thought, this was always you, the hidden truth. Shame and wanting fought inside you, a messy, painful struggle. Even as you hated yourself, waves of pleasures flowed through you.
"fuck man... She is dripping" Mark let out a hoarse moan at the sight of your dripping cunt.
Hours passed, and you were passed out on the couch, hickeys covering your entire chest and neck, sore from every corner, handprints left on your thighs and throat. You were mumbling incoherent sentences, lost in the high. All the boys had collapsed, but Haechan was still lapping on your tits as if they were his last meal.
"This motherfucker has lost it..." Jaemin grumbled in a groggy state, lightly kicking Haechan, who chose to ignore him while the other boys laughed weakly.
"Can we keep her?" Jisung inquired timidly; for a brief moment, a wave of guilt washed over him, but he brushed it off knowing you clearly enjoyed it. You were begging for more, it doesn't matter if you weren't in your senses. Your body gave all the reactions they needed, right?
"We brought this whore here for a reason, of course we are gonna keep Ms.strawberries around for a while well if she wishes to..." Chenle replied narrowing his eyes.
"clearly..." Jeno let out a mocking laugh, as they nudged each other waiting for you to come into senses. A potent potion of exhilaration intoxicated their minds, blurring the lines between right and wrong. Guilt held no sway over them, nor did regret's sting pierce their hearts. You, with your dignity and vulnerability laid bare, were like a beacon to their darkness.
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writingoddess1125 · 8 months
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(S)cream?
Scary things they do that turn you on
Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile, Law
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Buggy
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This was humiliating- You had joined Zoro on his journey as a bounty hunter and ended up coming along as he joined the newest pirate on the scene Monkey D Luffy- You didn't necessarily agree but you were a loyal friend..
That and Zoro had too much damn dirt on you for you to let him go on his own-
One of those diets being.. your particular taste in attractions.. which unfortunately came out when you first interacted with Buggy the Clown in Orange Town.. already you were kidding liking the scary clown thing.
"Stupid Straw Hats- No matter.."
Buggy laughed darkly his eyes locking on the lot of you as he pulled put his blades.
"You are all going to die"
You watched the clown laugh darkly and held one of the knives infront of his face licking them as he geared up for an attack- your face warming and you felt the top of your ears starting to turn red at the sight.
Zoro turned to stared at you in utter disgust as if already knowing what this would do to you-
"You have awful survival instincts..." He said plainly as you blushed and looked away ashamed and embarrassed- Buggy now confused over why your own crew was looking at you so disappointed and you so shamed.
"E-Eh?" He questioned as he glanced back at the crew just as confused as their Captian. You felt like sobbing at this point as you turned away from them all and pouted in the corner depressed.
"I know..."
Mihawk
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Was your friend a idiot? Maybe it was the alcohol but it the famed most powerful swordsman showed up and you challenge him when let's lace it- He had issues beating a clown.. Who thought this was a good idea!?
"Zoro this is stupid-" You hissed, looking over the open chested man and having to quickly steer those thoughts away to try and save your friends life. Yet of course he ignored you and Nami and marched away-
The next morning you all showing up {besides Nami} to support Zoro on his idiocy- Mihawk making his appearance and once again.. Damn- pulling that necklace from his neck with a easy flick and pulling out a tiny blade.
"Whats that I came here for a swordfight-"
"I don't hunt rabbits with a Canon-" He replied as he held his arms out to the group, You felt that loyalty for Zoro starting to slip away when you heard his voice and that almost amused dangerous look to him as he threatened your friends life.
A-Ah.. So you did have some mild daddy issues and maybe something for dark men. The sensation of blood seemed to leave your brain and warm other parts of your body.. You sigh and bow your head.
"For fuck sakes-" You mutter, Rubbing your temple as you try to calm yourself back down and figure out a way from this situation.
Crocodile
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Being the head assistant for the Cross Guild had its pros and cons. A pro was you got pain Very well for your work- You doubted Goverment workers got what you got, paired with the protection from its leaders. A con however was the terrible workload you had constantly and also having to just stand against the wall during moments like this.
"-You fucking Fool-" Crocodile hissed as he held Buggy by his throat angrily. Mihawk sitting down drinking his normal wine which you refilled every 5 minutes to keep the sword master pleased.
"Please Forgive me!" Buggy cried as Crocodile continued his verbal assault on the Clown Captian. Buggy had messed up- Once again and it seemed this time was enough for Crocodile to opt to try and choke Buggy to death rather then the normal beating the bluette relieved.
Crocodile blew a cloud of smoke to the side, his glance landing on you for a second before returning to insulting Buggy.
"(Y/N)- You are dismissed" He grumbled, squeezing Buggys throat again as you caught his glance-
"Y-Yes sir.."
You stood there with wide eyes as Crocodile held the squeaking and squaking mess that was Buggy hard by his throat- hissing threats at him and pointing that hook right at his throat.
This should have been scary- It was actually scary.. but also- You couldn't help but let your mind start to drift to if you were in Buggy's position and immediately felt your body flesh at the thought. Strong hands around your throat, cold wall against your back and Crocodile hissing insults in your ear-
"Huh- Learned something new about (Y/N).." You say softly with a nod at this new self discovery and walked away quickly before you embarrassed yourself.
Law
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"(Y/N)!!" You hear your name being called, rushing to the railing you see your crew approaching and you smiled.
"You guys are back!!" You cheer as you rush off the shit to help your friends board- That's when you spot new people there with your crew.
Tall, Brooding? Covered in blood? Holy shit...
"This is Law- He's going to help us out" Sanji explained as Law nodded softly at you.
"Hello-" He said calmly and you gave a shy smile.
"Nice to meet ya Law, See you're pretty banged up- Let's get you on the ship so chopper can treat you" You say calmly trying to be polite.
"Should see the other guy, but i appreciate it Love" He said with a dark smirk before wincing at his injuries. You felt your cheeks warm at this-
You clapped your hands together to give yourself strength, Taking a breath before doing a direct U-Turn back to the ship.
"(Y/N)?- Where are you going?" Nami called out as the crew watched you march away just as confused by your sudden actions.
"Going to go do some 'Finger Painting' Be back later" You said calmly, you were fortunate the crew was too innocent to understand your words.
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fire-lizard-ro · 5 months
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Ohoho Sunday thoughts you say? >:D this is loosely based on the prior ask? But I was just thinking how Sunday would probably try (keyword try) to remain pure and abstain from s*x before marriage, yknow? But when he finally does have you as his own, all bets are off. Angel boi is horny and wants you :( in his mind: it’s pure and simple yet beautiful lovemaking between two souls :( and in my love deprived ass I would melt because I know he’d be big on giving and receiving praise fjgjgjgj even would enjoy the idea of extending the Family if you were down for it (whether or not you could, he enjoys the idea of it) ((also he likes control so))
And don’t get me staarttteddd on his sweet aftercare and pillow talk D: oml you’d quite literally be on cloud nine!! He is too tho :) and he cannot help himself from just being so sweet and genuine orz
ohhHHHHH- Y e s I like this quite a bit. Need this to take a break from the angst I’ve been cookin up with a certain someone (you know who you are OTL).
Fair warning y’all are gonna end up seeing me write a fic about him that is blatantly blasphemous with religious themes (pretends like I’m not already working on one like that with Argenti).
Anyways- Back to this.
Thank you so much for the ask~ I love Sunday so much. <333333
CW: possessive behavior, cumming inside, fluff!!! (crazy I know how very almost off brand of me-), maybe some blasphemous thoughts? (idk that they count with aeons but hey-), marking, breeding kink (he’s saying it regardless of whether you are able to have children or not bc regardless it’s h o t -), praise
Reader gender: gender neutral (I tried not to say anything that would be too telling about what sex the reader is so please read it as such! I don’t think I said anything that was like that-)
So going off the last ask, we’re going to assume that he likes you enough to feel great affection for you. Enough to want you. To feel his own carnal desires rear their head even before you’ve married. It manifests in his seemingly innocent yet wandering hands. A hand on your waist as he passes by you. His hands drifting dangerously low when you hug. Leaning in close to talk to you. Lips making their way down from your forehead to your cheek to the corner of your lips. The placement of his kiss making its way to your lips slowly with every goodbye kiss.
But at some point, he can’t really stop himself from at least using those pretty hands of his on you- Along with that silver tongue and sinful mouth. He’ll make you feel so incredibly good, plunging his long fingers into you and taking you into his mouth. He’s lick and suck at you and even slide his tongue inside you. Perhaps the taste of you would be enough to tide him over until you were properly his- Married to him. It would have to be enough because you deserved to have a perfect wedding and perfect wedding night.
But aeons that doesn’t stop him from pleasuring you with what he can before then in order to hopefully keep himself in line. Even as his cock aches with the need to have you, he’ll just hold you down and whisper sweet promises in your ear. Even if you beg him, he won’t. Just wait for him baby just a little longer-
But after the ceremony is over and the afterparty is done and the guests all leave-
Oh dear. You’re finally left alone with your hungry fian- husband. You’re finally left alone with your absolutely famished husband. And you’re on the menu.
It begins like how many of your other encounters of sexual nature begin.
Sweet kisses that make it seem like he wants to swallow you whole.  Gentle hands taking in the feel of you in his arms. Trailing kisses down your throat, eyes closed in ecstasy because you were finally his now. He can have you with no regrets. All that waiting was for this moment. When he could finally have you wholly. And that makes this moment in the warm light of the bedside lamp and the cooler shades of the moon all the sweeter.
Wetted fingers stretching you in preparation for something larger, taking their time in their task despite knowing you well by then. Because even if this was to get you ready to become one with him- He’s wants to draw as much pleasure from you as possible. This is a special night for the two of you. One he will cherish completely and one he wants to make perfect for you. His arm would be holding him up, cradled behind your head for you to lean on while he molds himself to your side. Even as you whine and roll your hips into the curl of his fingers inside you, pressing on that special spot inside you, he kisses your cheeks gently with soothing words. “Good… very good, my love. Just a little more- I want you to finish on my fingers first. Can you do that for me, my sweet? I know you can-”
Just as he gives you your first orgasm of the night, he takes your lips once more while gently coaxing your through the waves of pleasure. He’s so soft, guiding you through the dance even while your mind goes blank for a bit as he watches your expression. “That’s it. I’ve got you.”
It’s then that he kisses you almost chastely before beginning his journey down your body to have his prize. The prize being whatever he’s managed to pull from you. He’d lick it from your body in broad strokes as though he were tasting honey dribbled over your form, caressing your every curve as he went.
Sunday would dribble lube over himself, a hand slathering the viscous substance over his cock in pumping motions. It was almost erotic watching him. The way he'd squeeze just a little at the top and you would watch his hardness twitch and drool between his fingers. But when you look up, the angelic man would only be looking at you. Gazing lovingly- longingly at you.
That's how it always was. Ever since meeting, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off you. You were simply radiant to him. Unlike anything or anyone else he'd ever seen.
Leaning over you to settle himself between your legs, Sunday would give you another kiss before asking if you were ready. While waiting for your answer, he'd go back to nip and lick at your neck. He wanted to mark you for all to see- You were his. His lover, his spouse, his soulmate. His. No one else's. He would love and care for you in every way, he'd think to himself.
And no- Don't just nod at him. "I need to hear you say it, dove. Please? For me, my dear?" Once you'd given him your clear consent, he'd bring you into a deep kiss while lining himself up with your stretched out, wet entrance. He can't even bring himself to tease you a little. Though the thought crossed his mind, he knew he'd been waiting far too long for this.
Once he was in the proper place, he'd rest his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in each other's air while he looks down at where the two of you would be connected, fingers drifting to fondle you in order to distract from any possible pain you may feel with a gentle hum.
As Sunday would finally push in, cockhead popping inside, he'd gasp against your lips with twitching hips he had to force still. "Are you alright, love?" Taking a moment for himself to regain his composure and steel himself, he'd hide away in the crook of your neck to breathe in your scent and feel your pulse beneath his soft lips. Once you were ready it would be but a slow rock of his hips, moving gently inside you, to eventually sheath himself completely inside. As he worked himself into your tightness, Sunday would whisper sweet words into your ears in a whisper, as though the words were only for the two of you despite no one else being around- The words would come in between kisses while he rubbed a hand up and down your side to comfort you, the hand occasionally straying to rub your sex or pluck at your nipples to distract you from the strain of this part of the night.
Once bottomed out, your ass resting in the cradle of his hips with his body covering yours, he would ask you if you're alright and give you time to adjust. It's all praises here, the man telling you just how good you are for him and saying that you're doing wonderfully. After some time passes and you rock your hips against his to test your comfort, a small moan would be startled out of him before it devolves into a chuckle. "Are you ready, my love?"
It'd start with hip just grinding into you, firm but slow and accompanied by a pleasured sigh from him. He'd hold back none of his sounds because he wanted you to know how good you made him feel. Then he'd pull out only just a bit before thrusting himself back in. At some point he had begun to properly fuck you, the push and pull like the rocking of a boat on a gentle sea. This was making love. And after angling his hips, he found your sweet spot he'd only ever touched with those pretty fingers of his.
It'd be a struggle to not lose himself in you. In your all-consuming presence and the pleasure you gave him- In the love you showed him as you reached up to bring him close with a whimper of his name. It was like hearing the gospel fall from your lips. And they might as well have been. For now you were his everything. His god, his true Harmony. Were you to say it, it would be so. And right now, you were telling him that it felt good and asking him to keep going. So, he would.
With teeth gently marking all the places he'd been, his darkened eyes would watch the way you arch your back and moan to the heavens (they were yours anyways). Sunday is something that knows how to hide its teeth and disguise itself in the form of a man. He was careful to dull his claws so he would not hurt you when he held you close. Careful to veil the violence that was part of him, showing in his eyes, when he was with you. But he was a beast who knew the taste of blood. And yet you, his pure and lovely dove, loved him and accepted him. You said he was a good man and that you loved him. You were his truth. So, it must be so.
He wanted to claim you so wholly that none could ever deny that you both belonged to one another. That none could mistake that you were his deity and him your humble and devout servant who worshiped you here in the temple of your bed, giving you his offerings in pleasure, loyalty, and love. That brought another idea to mind of just how he could claim you and show you his deepest love.
"I want to breed you, my love. To carry on the family and mark you inside with my cum. Would that be alright? Do you want that as well, dove?"
He would speed up now, thinking about how he could have a family with you. How lovely you would look with a child tottering around behind you. He would make it happen no matter what so long as you wanted it as well. When you agree, he'd smile so wide his face hurt and shower you with kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, my love my heart my everything-"
He can hardly fathom how he'd lived without you before.
Touching and kissing you all over he drove the two of you to your peak, the both of you moaning and whining against each other's lips as you kissed through the high. His hips continued to rock into yours to prolong the waves of pleasure that washed over you before slowing to a stop when you both became overstimulated.
"Thank you, love. You did so well- So very good for me. I love you so much," he'd praise and declare between kisses that he planted all over- Everywhere he could reach while wrapped up in your arms and holding you so close you wondered if the two of you could fuse together. "I love you, too," you'd mumble against his lips as he came back to them for a proper kiss. The chaste peck turning into a sensuous slide of lips, unhurried and full of undeniable love.
Even when he withdrew from your now cum-filled hole and began to clean you up, he would praise you and ask you how you felt while pressing kisses every place he touched. Once everything was done and he'd had you drink water, he'd lay down and pull you to lay on his chest. While stroking your back and pressing a kiss to your hair, he'd bid you goodnight and say yet another "I love you" before quietly humming to help you drift asleep.
Hopefully that was to your liking~ I had fun writing it! Thank you for the idea and for letting me write more about Sunday! <333
Feel free to send in another request if you want, hehe.
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crappymixtape · 5 months
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because of you • part one
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PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V// REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 2.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )
B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T O N E 🎶 good girls ( john carpenter remix ), chvrches
“Why is she even here?”
“Steve!”
A loud smack cut the air in two as Robin slapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder, rendering the rest of group there in Max’s trailer silent.
Your arms were crossed tightly over your chest, cheeks burning under his gaze, lips twisted into a scowl and trying hard to hold back the daggers you wanted so badly to throw at him.
“She doesn’t know what the hell we’re up against! How’s she supposed to–“
“Steve, none of us knew either, cut her a break.”
“Cut her a break and then what? We all get eaten by a fucking melted people monster?”
“That’s not fair–“
“It’s fine! It’s fine, Nancy,” you cut the girl off, standing quickly from your spot on the couch.
They’d been talking like this since you showed up. Like you weren’t right there in the room with them and honestly you kind of wished you weren’t anymore.
“I need some air,” you grumbled before giving Steve a pointed glare and shouldering open the front door.
The air outside was crisp as you sat down on the front stoop. Not a cloud in the sky and sunlight washing everything in soft golden light, but it all still felt so dark. Like it was harboring thick shadows. Long, spindly, and pitch black. Waiting to wrap their twisted fingers around you.
Waiting to dig into you and squeeze tight.
Waiting to lift you twenty feet into the air and snap your bones like twigs.
Waiting to leave you for dead.
And here was Steve fucking Harrington asking what right you had to be there. Asking what purpose were you gonna serve amongst this “holier than thou” joke of an army. Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie had already gotten their asses handed to them by what they’d called demobats, Steve arguably needing serious medical attention, and they wanted to go back? It took everything you had to not leave right there on the spot.
Hell, maybe you should, you thought for a minute. You didn’t owe them anything, especially Steve, but you did owe it to your best friend. The one who basically had a hit out on him. The one who wouldn’t hurt a goddamn fly, but all of Hawkins had already decided he was guilty and you weren't about to leave him.
Eddie.
❝ SO SAVE YOUR BREATH, GIVE A LITTLE OF WHAT YOU HAVE LEFT – DO THEY KNOW SOMETHING I DON’T? ❞
You met him two years ago under the bleachers at the Homecoming football game. It seemed like the perfect place to smoke the joint you’d messily rolled in the car right before you’d come into the stadium and apparently you’d been right, but someone else had already laid claim to it...
“Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but this is kind of my spot.”
He’d been all black leather and denim. Dark curls and clove. Silver rings and chains and heavy boots and maybe you should’ve been more intimidated, but the smile lines at the corners of his mouth gave him away.
“Don’t see a sign anywhere,” you’d shot back, no hesitation. Looked over at him all skeptics and attitude and took a long drag from your joint. Blew the smoke off in his direction and it made him grin like an idiot.
“Been sellin’ weed down here for like…the last three years so–actually, yeah. What the fuck, man. Someone owes me a sign.”
...And that was it, you were a goner. Laughing mid-toke and coughing so hard you cried and it made him feel so bad he gave you a baggy for free. Eddie "the freak" Munson and you – best friends.
Skipped all the stupid dances and football games with you. Paraded around the lunch room like an idiot with you. Threw fries back at the jocks for you when they called you a loser and sat on the floor in the bathroom with you when you cried.
So fuck “King Steve” Harrington.
You had every right to be there, probably even more than he did and you were gonna tell him to his face, but—
“Can I sit?”
The sudden sound of someone else made you jump.
“Jesus, Eddie.”
“Sorry,” he chuckled and sat down next to you. Gave you a sidelong glance and a small lopsided smile. “He’s really not so bad–”
“You’re joking. Right? Tell me you’re joking.”
The boy hummed, dropped his gaze down to the rings wrapped around his fingers and twisted the one on his thumb.
“He doesn’t want me here. None of them do,” you grumbled, frustration fed further by his non-answer and it pulled his eyes back up to you.
“Hey now, that’s not true–”
“Yes it is! Even Nancy looks at me like a kicked puppy.”
That pulled a laugh from him. Made him scoot closer to you and bump his shoulder into yours. “Listen, sweetheart,” the nickname made you soften, but you tried to keep your scowl in place, “We’re all in over our fuckin’ heads, hm? And Stevie boy…he’s seen some shit. He’s just trying to–”
“Just trying to what? Be a complete dickhead about it? Mission accomplished.”
Eddie sighed and roughed a hand over his face. Rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. He knew what you felt because he’d felt it too. Knew what it was like to get laughed at and mocked in the lunch room. Knew how it was supposed to be between him and the other boy. Hell, he nearly cut Harrington’s face off with a broken bottle a few days ago, but one thing was clear.
Change was possible and Steve Harrington was proof, he just wasn’t great at showing it.
“Alright. He could be less of a dick,” he conceded, propping his chin in his hand and looking at you with his big brown eyes. How could you be mad at that?
You mumbled under your breath about that not being the only thing, but fine, okay, only for you, Eds.
Reaching over he flicked at your fingers and looked at you from under his curls with a stern pinch between his brows. “He’s helping me, sweetheart. They all are. Shit, without them I’d probably be in jail already. Or in Carver’s trunk,” he tried a laugh, but it fell short at the end with the weight of his words and it made you grab at his hand and squeeze it.
“Shut up,” you chided softly, no heat behind it. The anger that had been swelling in your chest all but extinguished.
Silence settled between the two of you then, heavy and tinged at the edges with worry. With everything that was at risk and it started to gnaw at the pit of your stomach. What if you couldn’t fix it? And even if you could, this Vecna asshole was about to end the world anyway so what the hell did it matter?
How were a bunch of kids going to do anything about it?
“Ahem,” the door knocked into your back and jolted you back to earth. Pulled a gasp from you and when you looked up over your shoulder you felt your anger return ten fold. “We’re leaving, geniuses,” Steve announced, pushing at you with the door.
“Least you know you’re an idiot,” you mumbled under your breath, standing up from your spot to glare at him at eye level.
“Real cute,” Steve shouldered past you on the stoop, took the last two steps in one go and turned to face you both as he landed on the grass. “For you, Munson,” he said, throwing a mask at Eddie, “Courtesy of Mayfield.”
“What’s that for?” you couldn’t help asking as Max appeared at your side and pointed so casually – too casually – at the mask.
“Gonna steal a Winnebago. Get that on, dingus. Let’s go.”
“Nice,” Eddie grinned up at the red-headed girl and yanked the mask on over his head, “Thanks, Red.”
“Let’s go,” Steve urged, waving his hands at everyone to get out of the house and you felt your heart racing.
“Steal a Winnebago? Eddie. Fuck that–”
“Honey, I’m already a wanted man–” Eddie cut you off and readjusted the ridiculous looking mask a bit. “–c’mon,” he said, tugging at your belt loop to get with it.
“I–that doesn’t mean you can just steal–”
“We’re way past that,” Dustin chimed in, shoving past you just like everyone else, “Besides, if the world’s gonna end anyway, what’s it matter?”
Shit. The kid had a point. It was probably fine. It was just a trailer. Maybe you could give it back afterward? You needed it more than they did. Right?
“Dammit,” you grumbled under your breath, now the only one still standing around. “Wait for me!”
❝ THEY TELL ME I’M HELL-BENT ON REVENGE, I CUT MY TEETH ON WEAKER MEN, I WON’T APOLOGIZE AGAIN ❞
The first time you ran into Steve Harrington was sophomore year. In the hallway before Click’s class. You were cramming everything into your bag, but struggling with your history book when you heard it coming.
Tommy Hagan’s stupid laugh.
Your stomach sank, eyes glued on your things and trying to ignore it. He was in your science class the year before along with his ditzy girlfriend Carol and they always made sure to get a spot in the back just to make out.
“Need some help?”
When you finally looked up at him he’d stopped right in front of you, the grin on his lips sharklike as Carol smirked out from under his arm. Another boy you didn’t know was standing just behind them wearing a stupid member’s only jacket, half unzipped, and had hair that sat perfectly in place. Too perfect.
“That looks heavy, hm?” Tommy said grabbing your book, voice all saccharine sweet and sharp around the edges. Flipping through the pages he pulled a face, clicked his tongue and weighed it in his hand, then made a show of dumping it on the floor. “Whoops. Sorry!” he half-laughed and your cheeks burned.
“Bite me, Hagan,” you snapped back, bending down to grab your book, and it only made his grin grow wider.
“Ooo. She’s fiesty today, Stevie. I like it.”
And then he chimed in. Stevie. The had-to-be-douchebag that everyone called 'King Steve.'
“Probably on her period,” he said scoffing a laugh, all confidence and bravado and the look on his face was so smug. Thought he was so clever and funny and when you finally turned around it was to take the two steps up to him in one.
“Really? My period? So original.”
It made him swallow hard. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he blinked back the flicker of surprise glinting in his eyes. He took a quick glance at Tommy like he didn’t want to disappoint him and then hardened his expression. Crowded down over you and nodded.
“Explains you being such a bitch.”
And it took the air from your lungs. Stuck in your sides sharp like a knife and you felt your throat tighten as Tommy and Carol snickered, but you wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction. Not here.
“Yeah. Bet you wish you had an excuse for being such an asshole,” you cut at him and it pulled an Oh shit! out of Tommy as he doubled over laughing, Steve’s mouth dropped open in shock.
Your feet couldn’t carry you away fast enough as you shoved your book in your bag and turned to leave, but you refused to run. Refused to let them see weakness, and as Tommy yelled down the hallway after you about tampons you raised a middle finger high in the air to punctuate just how much you hated them all.
Eddie met you in the bathroom after that, the one nobody used on the other side of school, and you told him everything. He let you have the joint he had tucked behind his ear for emergencies, listened to you and told you they weren’t worth it. Especially not Steve. Because even though Tommy started it, Steve was the one who dug in. Could have left it alone but didn’t and that was what really got you.
How obvious it was he knew how shitty they were being, but went along with it anyway because he had to maintain his status. Had to uphold how ‘cool’ he was and keep the line in the sand drawn between him and ‘the freaks’ like you.
So he wouldn’t get a second chance.
And he wasn’t worth your time.
Not then and sure as hell not now.
[ NOTE: THIS IS PART ONE OF A THREE PART SERIES, PART TWO AND THREE TO COME SOON ]
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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wheresarizona · 6 months
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Learning to Live Part 27
summary: Javier was warned by you that the place he chose to propose needed to be somewhere secluded because you’d be super horny afterward. What happens when you’re both super horny after he puts that ring on your finger? Let’s just say there’s no way in hell you’re making it back to your guest room at the Murphy’s, and you’re taking advantage of any time you have alone, even if it’s risky. 
rating: E (18+!! This is basically porn with plot. It is horny. No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), public sex, vaginal fingering, getting caught, oral sex (m & f receiving), road head, deepthroating, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie(s), woman on top, anal play, dirty talk, (MASSIVE) breeding kink, spit mention, come eating, birth control discussion, wedding planning, feelings, Angry Javier Peña, Javier Peña in love, Javier saying romantic things, Chucho being the best supportive father, Chucho jonesing to have grandchildren)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader
word count: 17.7k+
a/n: I have had a rough last couple of weeks, and the only thing that kept me from having a complete and total breakdown was writing about these two horny dummies. This chapter is unbeta’d, and any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @juletheghoul for ensuring the Spanish made sense and @theorganasolo for giving it a read. 
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The waves were roaring as they rolled and crashed toward the shore; some bird he couldn’t identify was squawking in the distance, the warm, humid air smelling like salt and brine. All of that was surrounding him, and the only thing Javier cared about was the woman moaning beneath him. 
His fiancée.
She tasted like coffee and the sweetness of the berries and pineapple she had eaten earlier, tangling his tongue with hers. He held himself up with an arm beside her head on the blanket over the sand, giving himself enough space to work his other hand between their bodies and into her stretchy black leggings and panties. Two of his thick fingers were fucking in and out of her hot, wet cunt, his thumb on her swollen little clit, Javier swallowing her noises, knowing she was close with how tightly she was squeezing his digits. 
Happy was an understatement for how he felt; he was on cloud nine, over the goddamn moon, on top of the fucking world—Javier had to be the happiest man on the entire planet because she said yes. 
Yes!
She was wearing the ring, her fingers currently in his hair, and he was dying to be inside her. 
There wasn’t any reason for him to be surprised by her answer, yet up until she said that three-letter word, there’d been fear in the back of his mind she’d say no. Which was ridiculous for him to even think, and he deserved it when she laid into him that she did say yes, and she was going to marry him.
He’d brought her to a little stretch of beach away from the high-traffic, touristy areas Steve and Connie had shown him years ago, so they’d have some privacy hidden away in their alcove, and since the lifeguards didn’t start patrolling until eight, there wasn’t much risk of anyone coming across them. 
They didn’t get this far the first time they made out due to the interruption of her stomach growling and Javier stopping the heated kiss to insist that they eat breakfast, which they did as they watched the sun rise. Now, his cock was hard and straining in his jeans, arousal hot in his belly, working his fingers faster and making it a point to press into that spot that made her toes curl. Her muffled sounds got louder until her body was tensing, clamping down on his digits hard enough that he slowed his movements, working her through her climax with his thumb gently rolling over her sensitive bundle of nerves. 
He nipped at her chin while she panted. “Good girl,” he purred, kissing a wet streak under her jaw. “Quiero hacerte el amor bajo el sol (I want to make love to you under the sun).” His words were said into her skin. “Quiero dártelo despacito mientras escuchamos las olas (I want to give it to you slowly while we listen to the waves). ¿Quieres eso (You want that)?” He sucked on her pulse point, and she moaned out yes, which might be his new favorite word.
All he needed to do was pull down her pants and underwear with how she was soaked and ready for him, and he’d be able to slide his dick inside the wet, snug heat of her pussy; Javier removed his hand from down her leggings, groaning as he sat up on his knees, his fingers going into her elastic waistband, starting to tug—
“Good morning, folks,” an unfamiliar masculine voice greeted.
Javier’s stomach plummeted, his heart pounding in his chest, and he immediately went on the defensive. His hands left her as his upper body twisted, and his head turned to glare at the interloper. 
Fuck. 
A small white truck was a little way away from them with Ocean Rescue in big blue letters on the side of it, a rack on the back with a long white paddleboard atop it, and a red lifeguard rescue tube hanging from it. A guy in his late twenties was in the driver's seat, his arm hanging out of the window, dark sunglasses covering his eyes, with floppy black hair and a clean-shaven face. 
Javier cleared his throat, frowning. 
“Good morning, sir...” he said. 
Thank Christ, with how they were positioned, the younger man wouldn’t have seen anything; Steve would give him so much shit if he got arrested because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.
“It’s usually only surfers out this early.” The lifeguard smiled. “I just wanted to make sure everything is okay over here.”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” 
“Ma’am,” the man said a little louder, “is everything okay over here?” 
“Everything’s great!” Javier glanced over to see she was holding her thumb up. 
“Awesome.” The guy in the truck focused back on Javier. “I hate being a buzzkill, man, and getting in the way of your fun, but it’s my job to remind you this is a public beach.”
“Right, yeah.” Javier scratched at the back of his neck. “Sorry.” 
He waved away his apology. “Don’t sweat it. Just enjoy the rest of your day!”
“Yeah, you, too. Thank you.”
The other man nodded once, his attention going in front of him as he started driving, slowly making his way down the beach and away from them. 
“Oh my god, Javier,” Cielito groaned. “That was too close.” 
He faced her, seeing her hands covering her eyes.
“I’m sorry, mi amor (my love),” he said, checking his watch. “Fuck, I didn’t realize it was after eight.”
She looked at him with shock on her face. “How did we lose track of time? How long were we fooling around for?” 
“I don’t know.” He sighed, pressing clean fingers to his forehead. “I got so fucking caught up in everything I forgot to pay attention to the time.” 
There was rustling as she sat up, her hands rubbing along his biceps. “We both got caught up and forgot we had a time limit. On the bright side, he stopped us before you pulled your dick out or got my pants off, so he saved us from being arrested for indecent exposure.”
“Still coulda gotten us with a lesser charge for fucking around in public.” 
She pulled his hand away from his face to make him look at her and the soft smile on her kiss-swollen lips. 
“But he didn’t. So, why don’t we pack up and take this party back to the house where we can attempt a quickie without anyone knowing?” She wagged her eyebrows.
His cock twitched, gulping at the thought. “Or I could just fuck you in the back of the car?” That was a better option. 
“You know how much I love car sex, and the SUV does have a lot of space in the backseat and those dark, tinted windows, but I think our public sex luck has run out for today. I can picture perfectly how giddy Steve would be if he had to bail us out of jail because we were caught having sex in public.”
The image of his best friend’s grinning face came to mind, and just the thought made his jaw clench and mouth turn down in a frown. 
He sighed. “You’re right. Steve would never let me live it down. The house is a better idea.” 
“I’m always right,” she said with a smile, lightly patting his cheek.
Javier snorted, leaning forward to kiss her. “You are always right,” he murmured against her lips.
He felt her smile. “You’re gonna be the best husband.” The fingers of both her hands slid into the hair above his ears, and, along with her words, he had a shiver moving down his spine, feeling himself melt under her touch. 
“And you’re gonna be the best wife,” he said as they broke apart, and he took her left hand into his, seeing the ring on her finger, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it. 
“Ugh, we need to leave right this second because it is essential I make you come.” 
He smiled, meeting her eyes. 
“Essential? What if we can’t sneak away from the Murphys? I’m sorry, baby, but you might have to wait until tonight to get me off.” 
The wheels were turning in her head. She was thinking hard until she nodded to herself at figuring something out. “I’m gonna make you come.” It was stated as a fact. “Before tonight.”
His eyebrow rose. “Uh-huh, right, and how are you going to do that?” 
The toothy smile on her face was reminiscent of the Cheshire cat. “Oh, it’s a surprise.” 
“It’s a surprise?”
“Yep.”
“No hints?” 
“Nope.” She shook her head. 
The most logical way for her to achieve her goal was to corner him in the bathroom back at Steve and Connie’s, but he didn’t think she’d be this excited about that. She had something else in mind, and he was curious what it was, finding her eagerness to get him off a major turn-on, as evidenced by the hard-on in his pants. 
“I do like surprises,” he mused. 
“You especially love sexy surprises, and I think you’re really going to like this one.” 
“I know I will.” He caressed her cheek, memorizing how her face looked in the soft glow of the morning sun—breathtaking. “I love you.” 
She smiled. “I love you, too.” 
It didn’t take them long to pack up the stuff he’d brought into the tote bag that included empty berry containers, a mostly drunk thermos of coffee, and two dirtied coffee mugs, folding the big blanket, too, and putting it all in the trunk of the rental. 
Javier thought the smile on his face might be permanent, with how it wouldn’t go away. He opened the passenger door for her. “Your ride awaits, Mrs. Peña.” She took the hand he held out to help her up into the vehicle as she giggled. 
“Future, Mrs. Peña,” she corrected as she sat down in her seat. 
He took the step to have him next to her and bent to be at her eye level, gently turning her head with his fingers on her chin. “You said yes, and you’re wearing the ring—all that’s keeping you from legally being my wife is a ceremony and a piece of paper, but to me? I’ve already got it in my head that you’re Mrs. Peña, my wife, and people will know you’re taken just by looking at your hand.” He nodded toward her hands in her lap on top of his leather jacket. 
“You love that.” Her smile was beaming. 
“Love what?” 
She held up her left hand. “That you put a ring on my finger so it’s clear I’m off the market and unavailable—you like that you’ve staked your claim.” 
Now, that made him frown—he did love that the engagement ring broadcasted she was in a serious relationship, but he did not like the idea that it was him putting a claim on her like she was a piece of property. 
An exasperated breath left her. “Let me rephrase,” she said, “because I can see it on your face—” She gestured at it. “—that you’re hating me objectifying myself. You like that I’m wearing something that shows I’m yours and have chosen to spend my life with you, and when we’re together, others will see it and know, too.”  
He was smiling again, taking her left hand into his, the pad of his thumb feeling the smoothness of the gold band, then the ridges of one small diamond, two, the largest, and down to the smaller ones before it was smooth gold again, and rubbing back over it, over and over again, as he spoke. “Yes,” he said. “I love that you’re wearing this ring so I can see the proof every fucking day that you chose to marry me—” He pressed his free hand to his chest. “Me. You’re marrying me, and just like how I can see the proof, everyone else can, too—they’ll know you’re mine, and I’m yours, and you’ve chosen me, and I can’t wait to wear my own ring to broadcast to the entire fucking world that I’m a married man and your husband.” 
“God, you’re so fucking sweet—gold or silver?” 
His eyebrows scrunched together. “Huh?” 
“Your wedding ring. Gold or silver? Do you want diamonds on it? Or a different kind of gem? What are you imagining?”  
“A gold band—nothing on it,” he answered immediately. “Gold that matches yours.” 
Her eyes softened. “That makes perfect sense—something simple and classic.” 
“Yeah, that’s all I need.” 
“I’ll keep it in mind. Now, let’s go, babe.” Her right hand brushed his bangs off his forehead. “You know how horny it makes me when you’re stupidly romantic, and I hate that you were cockblocked.” 
He huffed out an amused breath. “I’m fine, mi amor (my love).” He gave her a quick peck on the lips. 
Her hand moved from his face to the front of his jeans, Javier’s mouth falling open as she rubbed over his half-hard dick. “Sure, you’re fine,” she said. “Sure, you don’t care about not coming.” 
There was a dull ache low in his gut from not getting off, and he swallowed hard at remembering her promise to make him come before that evening. 
“Fuck, let’s go.” He kissed her quickly, grabbing her seatbelt and getting it around her body to buckle it in, kissing her one more time before he moved to shut the door, the dark window obscuring the view of her. 
Cars were crowding the roads when they started heading back to the Murphys, the rush hour traffic making their commute much longer than the forty-five minutes it’d taken earlier that morning. 
Javier fucking hated traffic, and it was one of the things he didn’t miss about Miami. 
His jaw was clenched tight as they moved at a crawl down the highway with one hand on the steering wheel and his other in Cielito’s lap with their fingers intertwined, trying his best not to let his irritation of the other drivers sour their joyous day. 
A candy apple red Mazda Miata with its top down almost hit their front bumper as it cut into their lane, causing Javier to slam on the brakes and lay on the horn. “Fuck!” 
The guy in the car flipped him off, and his nostrils flared, his heart hammering, it taking everything in him to resist the urge to jump out of their Ford and kick the other man’s ass. 
“Give me your cell phone,” his wife-to-be said.
He was seething, glancing at her. “What?” The word slipped through his teeth. 
She let go of his hand to hold out her palm, looking at him expectantly. “Give me your cell phone, please.” 
There was a deep frown on his face, his eyebrows dipped low, not wasting another second as he adjusted in his seat to easily pull the cell phone off his belt, passing it to her. 
“Where’s your phone?” he asked, looking over at her.
“Home,” she answered, her attention on the phone’s numbers under the protective case’s front plastic. 
“Why didn’t you bring it?” 
“Why would I need it? We’re gonna be together the whole time we’re here, and I kinda didn’t want anyone to be able to reach me unless it was an emergency, which, if that were the case, they’d know to call you.” 
Her answer made him smile, liking that she didn’t want their time together to be interrupted. He watched as she pressed a number, then the call button to speed dial someone, the device going up to her ear. 
Seconds later, she was laughing. “Sí, Pop (Yes, Pop),” she said, “me propuso matrimonio y yo dije que sí (he proposed to me and I said yes).” She giggled, and he was looking at the road again as he listened, not caring about the traffic anymore. “Creo que soy yo la afortunada y seria estúpida si hubiera dicho que no (I think I’m the lucky one and I would have been stupid if I’d said no). Javi es increíble y me hace la mujer más feliz del mundo entero (Javi is amazing and he makes me the happiest woman in the world). No sabes lo feliz que estoy de que me haya pedido que fuera su esposa (You don’t know how happy I am that he asked me to be his wife)... Eso es cierto, estabas asi de feliz cuando Antonia dijo que sí (That’s true, you were this happy when Antonia said yes). ¿No es la mejor sensación (Isn’t it the best feeling)? Apuesto a que Javi también lo está sintiendo (I bet Javi’s feeling it, too).” 
“I am,” he said, his head turning toward her with a smile, warmth spreading through his veins. “Sí, lo soy (Yes, I am). Se siente increíble (It feels amazing).”
She grinned. “Sí, él también está muy feliz (Yes, he’s very happy, too),” she told his dad. Something she heard made her laugh, and Javier wished he knew what his father was saying.
“What did he say?” Javier whispered, focusing back on what was in front of him. 
It had her switching to English, sounding amused. “We haven’t even been engaged a day, and you’re already asking about grandchildren.” 
Of course, that was what his dad wanted to talk about. It made his heart speed up that this was the conversation that would determine if Cielito and he would start their family—she wanted to discuss living on the ranch with Chucho while their house was being built, something his father had already agreed to with him but hadn’t talked to her about yet.
A big smile was on her face as she spoke. “Yes, we will definitely be married before a baby is born… We haven’t had a chance to hash out the details of our wedding yet… Oh, of course, we have to do something at the ranch with Daphne and Velma—” Those were their two calves they lovingly called their bovine children. “—and we’d have to make sure Steve, Connie, and their family can be there…” Her tone shifted to something somber, and he quickly looked over to see she was frowning, and he matched her look. “It’s fine that you asked,” she said, “but, no, I wouldn’t want anyone from my family there; I don’t think they’d come if we invited them, and I’d worry they’d cause a scene if they did show up… You and the rest of the Peña’s are all the family I need…”
Javier’s heart squeezed, reaching over to rub her thigh. “I love you, too…” She grabbed his hand and held it, his dad making her laugh again. “Yes, yes, your nietos (grandchildren),” she replied in exasperation. “Javi said he talked to you… I know you’re excited, Pop…” She was smiling again. “You really won’t mind a crying baby?” Javier held his breath. “You’re sure?” Whatever his answer was, it had her giggling. “I’m going to remember you said that! Today, December 11th, at—” Her attention went to the clock radio. “—8:39 am Jesús Eduardo Peña Torres swore he wouldn’t mind his grandchild crying at all hours of the night and stated he would even assist in caring for the child to give his son and daughter-in-law breaks…” His father said something that cracked her up, saying through her laughter, “You’re going to put it in writing for us?!” Javier chuckled, thinking when they saw his dad next, he most likely would have something written up for them because he was that serious. 
As much as he was loving the banter between his fiancée and father, he was dying to know if this had quelled her worries. 
The bumper-to-bumper traffic was an afterthought as he glanced over at her. “How are you, uh, feeling?” he quietly asked. 
Her bright, shining eyes met his with a grin on her beautiful lips, moving the phone away from her mouth to cover the speaker. She whispered, “Oh, it’s go time, babe. Like, I am going to be keeping you busy."
The smile on his face made his cheeks hurt, her answer causing arousal to burn low in his gut and blood to rush to his groin.
She was going to keep him busy trying to get her pregnant, and he was more than up for the challenge—his dick hardening at the thought.
Cielito uncovered the cell phone, saying to his father, "Yes, I'm still here; sorry, Javi had a question... Oh, of course." She was smiling. "I love you, too. Here he is." With that, she held the phone out toward him, and he took it.
"¿Bueno (Hello)?" he answered with the device at his ear.
"¿Le propusiste matrimonio durante el amanecer como hablamos (Did you propose during the sunrise like we talked about)?"
While his wif-fiancée was out with her best friend the previous weekend, he’d gone to the ranch to discuss his proposal idea with his dad since the elder Peña was a romantic like him and understood what he wanted to do. 
"Sí (Yes)."
“¿Dijiste el gran discurso romántico que habías planeado pero que te negaste a practicar conmigo (Did you say that big romantic speech you had planned but refused to rehearse with me)?”
Javier sighed, remembering how his dad had needled him to say it—the only reason he didn’t was because of how intimate and personal it was, and he only wanted his intended to hear it. 
“Más o menos (More or less),” he answered. “Acabo de decir lo que se sentía bien y vino del corazón (I just said what felt right and came from the heart).” 
“¿Y a ella le gustó mucho (And did she like it a lot)?
“Ella dijo que sí, así que supongo que si (She said yes, so I guess she did).” 
“¡Esi es, mijo (That’s it, son)! Sabes, recibes tus genes románticos de mí (You know, you get your romantic genes from me).” Pride was in his tone. “No tengo duda de que lo que dijiste fue hermoso (I have no doubt that what you said was beautiful). ¿Le gustó el anillo (Did she like the ring)?”
His head turned and looked at it on her finger.
“Le encanta el anillo, especialmente porque era de mi mamá (She loves the ring, especially because it was my mom’s). Ella estaba conmovida que le dejaste tenerlo (She was touched you let her have it). Eh—” Their SUV was moving at a slow roll, and his head moved away from her, switching ears as he said, hopefully quietly enough that she wouldn't hear, "¿Es normal que haya mucho llanto (Is it normal for there to be a lot of crying)..?"
Chucho laughed. "Sí, Mijo (Yes, Mijo). Eso es bueno (That’s good). Tu madre también lloró cuando le propuse matrimonio (Your mom also cried when I proposed)—Incluso yo también lloré (I even cried).” 
“Yo también (I did, too)."
"No hay nada de malo en eso (There is nothing wrong with that). Estoy muy feliz por ti, Javi, y orgulloso de ti (I am so happy for you, Javi, and proud of you). Vas a ser un esposo increíble (You’re going to be an amazing husband)."
The praise had a lump forming in his throat.
"Gracias, Pop (Thank you, Pop)."
"No, gracias, Mijo (No, thank you, Mijo). Has traído a una mujer maravillosa a nuestra familia y me encanta tener una hija (You've brought a wonderful woman into our family and I love having a daughter). Sería aún mejor si también tuviera algunos nietos (It would be even better if I also had some grandchildren)."
Javier sighed. "Lo sé, lo sé (I know, I know). Quieres a tus nietos (You want your grandchildren). Bueno, tendrás que esperar porque no es algo que sucede asi tan rapido (Well, you're going to have to wait because it's not something that happens overnight)."
"Lo siento por ser tan agresivo (I’m sorry for being pushy). Es que estoy emocionado (I’m just excited). ¿Ayudó mi conversación con ella (Did my talk with her help)?"
"Sí (Yes). Gracias por quedarte en casa hoy (Thank you for staying home today)."
"No quería perderme tu llamada (I didn't want to miss your call)."
"Lo aprecio mucho, Pop (I appreciate it a lot, Pop)."
"De nada, Javi (You're welcome, Javi). Sabes que haré cualquier cosa por ustedes dos y sus futuros hijos (You know I'll do anything for the two of you and your future kids). Ustedes significan todo para mí (You all mean everything to me)."
Javier knew his dad was telling the truth, and it made his eyes burn with unshed tears.
"Te amamos (We love you)."
"Yo también te amo (I love you, too)."
He didn't want his emotions to get the better of him when they should be celebrating.
“We'll see you Sunday,” he said in English. 
"Yes, you will. I can't wait to get a picture of you and her with the engagement ring for my photo album. We're going to have a great dinner."
"Yeah, we will. I'm gonna get going. I'll let you know when we get home from our trip."
"Thank you. Congratulations, Mijo. I'm going to take some flowers to your mom and tell her the news. I love you—I love both of you, and your mother does, too."
The mention of his mom had foggy memories of his dream from the night before coming back to him, only recalling bits and pieces of it, but he knew his father was right—she did love them.
"Thanks, Pop. I love you, too. Bye."
"Bye, Mijo."
He pushed the end call button, moving it to his other hand. Beneath the car's stereo and temperature controls was a slot where he put the cell phone.
"Well," Javier started, reaching over to grab her hand, "I wouldn't be surprised if he had our wedding planned by dinner Sunday." He brought her hand up while he looked over at her and kissed the center diamond.
She giggled. "I'm pretty sure he started planning our wedding when we first got together, which, oh my god, how long has he known you were going to propose on this trip?"
"The first week of November. Why?"
His eyes were back on the road, keeping her hand in his palm, his thumb rubbing over the ring.
"Because over the last month, when it'd just be your dad and I talking, he was fishing for info on my dream wedding—I didn't think anything of it 'cause it's been set in stone for a long time that we're going to get married and I figured he was just being proactive."
Javier was frowning, feeling a twinge of annoyance that his dad could've ruined his plans.
"I'm glad it didn't tip you off..." he grumbled.
"Hey, don't be upset with him! He's our biggest supporter. He's invested in our relationship like we're Buffy and Angel or a couple in one of your tías telenovelas!"
His eyes narrowed. "He finds our relationship... entertaining?"
There was a lot of drama between couples in telenovelas, and he guessed they'd been through some shit in their relationship. She'd explained that vampire slayer show to him and made him watch some episodes, and knew Buffy and Angel didn't have an easy time being together.
"No, he doesn't find our relationship entertaining," she replied. "We're his favorite couple. He thinks we're meant to be together and wants our relationship to succeed more than anything."
"Oh."
"Yeah." There wasn't too much space between them, a small console keeping their seats separated, and she leaned over, her free hand reaching across her body to rub over his pec. "It's very sweet. There's something else I want to talk to you about."
"Yeah?" He turned on his blinker and looked over his shoulder to check his blind spot before merging into the next lane, where cars were moving a bit faster.
"Yes, babymaking."
Air hissed out of him at the sharp spike of arousal that cut through him.
He licked his lips. "What, uh, about it?"
"Our sex life is fucking amazing, and I don't want us to lose our spark and for it to become a chore; yes, we basically only have one shot a month, and we'll have to really go to town, but I want us to enjoy ourselves and fuck for pleasure, not for the sole purpose of reproducing."
Looking over at her with a smile, he said, "Yeah, that sounds good. I wouldn't want it becoming a chore, either."
She smiled. "I'm glad that's agreed upon. There's something else I need to tell you."
"Okay?"
"You know how we got up insanely early yesterday, too?"
That was when they traveled to Miami, and they'd woken up at 4 am to make their 6 am flight from Laredo to Dallas/Fort Worth.
"Yes?" He was paying attention to driving again.
"Well, apparently, in the hecticness that was making sure we had everything before we left the apartment, checking us in when we got to the airport, boarding the airplane, traveling, boarding another plane, and getting to Miami, it kinda, sorta, slipped my mind to take my birth control..."
His eyes went big, his head snapping toward her.
"What?"
"I know. I can't believe I forgot and just about had a heart attack this morning when I saw the pill in my pack—I had to make a choice."
"What choice?" he asked.
"It was either I take yesterday's and today's pills, or I take neither."
"What did you choose?" he breathed out the question. He thought his heart might thump right out of his chest, looking forward once more.
"Well, based on the fact that I showered after each time we fucked yesterday, and there's still come inside me, and we've agreed to a baby, I just said fuck it and threw away the entire pack."
His brain short-circuited, it taking him a little longer than usual to process what she said, and needing to make sure he understood her correctly.
"You're no longer on birth control..?"
"Nope," she said with a pop of the 'p.'
"I could get you pregnant?"
"Yep." The word popped from her mouth.
"Fuck." Blood was rushing to his dick, remembering how he had come inside her twice the day before. What if he’d already knocked her up?
She removed her hand from his, her upper body turned toward him and close while she rubbed along his inner thigh, making him gulp.
"Do you like that?" she purred.
Both of his hands were on the steering wheel now, squeezing so tight the leather creaked.
He cleared his throat. "You know I do."
She palmed his swelling cock, and his mouth fell open.
"Yes, you do. It's too bad we're gonna get back to the house and won't be able to lock ourselves away in the guest room and fuck for hours. Just imagine fucking me over and over again to keep me all nice and full."
Now, it was all he could think about. He was fully hard, and he hated that they wouldn't be able to do just that. How was he supposed to enjoy the rest of their trip when he was so fucking horny?
"How long until we get back to the Murphys?" she asked.
It took him a second to register her question; his brain was stuck on imagining fucking her in a myriad of positions and finishing inside her each time.
He glanced at the clock, then the cars in front of them, and the sign on the side of the highway for where they were. "Uh, maybe forty/forty-five minutes." And then they wouldn't be alone until later that night, which made his mouth turn down, annoyed. "Why would you put that shit in my head?" he groused. 
Sure, they could try to slip away to be alone; however, he had his doubts that they’d have enough time to fuck. They didn't have an excuse like they did yesterday of needing a nap and shower after traveling. The kids would want their attention—Steve and Connie sure as fuck would notice if they disappeared for an extended amount of time in their home, and his best friend would happily interrupt if he had a chance, like when he banged on the wall the night before when they were trying to have sex in that goddamn squeaky bed.
"Because," she answered, "I want you to be so horny you'll let me suck your dick right this second."
His cock jerked hard in his jeans as he groaned.
"I thought you said our public sex luck had run out?"
"Our stationary public sex luck has run out, but now we're moving in a dark windowed vehicle. So, if you want and think you can handle it, I'll suck you off to take an edge off of how unbelievably horny you are—which you're at the grumpy stage of being unbelievably horny, and I'd prefer getting you in a better mood, so you're not too mean to Steve."
She was right. He was unbelievably horny.
"Okay, yes, please."
The sight before him was miles upon miles of cars and a sea of glowing red rearview lights, the tall buildings in downtown Miami jutting high in the sky off in the distance to the left. They were moving slowly and steadily down the road. 
Her seatbelt clicked as she unbuckled herself, shuffling to get her knees on her seat, leaning over the small, low center console, his hand closest to her moving to rest on her shirt-covered back to give her room to work open his belt and jeans.
The metal of his belt buckle rattled, and she quickly popped open the button on his pants, lifting his hips instinctively for her fingers in the denim waistband to tug them down far enough to free his throbbing dick and heavy sack; his jeans pulled taut as they stretched across his spread thighs. 
He looked down to watch her spit in her palm, the ruddy tip of him shining with precum. She took him in hand, and he gasped, her head tilting up to meet his gaze. Reaching, he squeezed a handful of her ass. 
"I know you love watching, but I need you to be a good boy and keep your eyes on the road." He swallowed hard. "Just know I've wanted to do this since the beach, and I'm happy you're finally letting me—my panties are drenched." 
"Jesus Christ," he said on an exhale, looking forward at the sports car they were slowly following. "I love you so fucking much." Both of his hands went to the steering wheel, keeping them at ten and two.
"I love you, too, and if it becomes too much, you're allowed to tap out." 
"I know." 
She licked a broad stripe from base to tip, swirling her tongue around the head, making Javier groan as she pressed into those sensitive spots that made sparks dance along his spine. Pleasure had ignited in his belly, her lips wrapping around him and taking him into the hot, wet heat of her mouth, his jaw dropping and hands making the leather screech with how tightly he was squeezing the steering wheel. 
The vibrations of her moans had the fire rapidly building in his gut, loving how he could hear how much she was enjoying herself.
She spit on the head of his cock, following it with her mouth, bobbing up and down, taking more and more of him until he was hitting the back of her throat, and it had him panting when she swallowed around him to take him down into the tight space. 
"Oh, fuck, baby," he moaned, his toes curled in his boots. "That's so fucking good." 
It did feel good, but what would be even better was if he could fuck her—he was greedy. She was giving him a fantastic blow job, and all he could think about was how he wished he was inside her—that it was the wet heat of her pussy enveloping him right now. 
Yeah, she was on her way to getting him off—she was now wetly stroking him while her head dipped down so she could lick at the thin skin of his balls—but no matter how much pleasure she was bringing him, there was still an undercurrent of irritation from being interrupted that morning when he was trying to get into her pants. 
This might not have been the best idea when the car behind them honked because he was going too slow; Javier immediately sped up. 
She was right. 
She could take the edge off of how horny he was by making him come with her mouth; he just hated he couldn't fuck her until later that night. 
Add in the fact she accepted his proposal and told him she wasn't on birth control anymore, and it was killing him he had to wait to have sex with her. She put it in his head about fucking her for hours, and he was annoyed it wasn't something he actually had the means to do with them being on a trip. 
If it was his choice and he knew they could get away with it, he’d lock them away in the guest room when they returned to Steve and Connie’s and spend as much time as he could between his future wife’s legs.
She had him back down her throat, humming around him, and he felt his eyes beginning to roll back in his head—a horn blared behind them again, this time the car speeding to pass around them, the traffic finally letting up, and the vehicles moving at regular speeds. It pissed him off, turning on his blinker and looking over his shoulder as he moved over into the far right lane for slower traffic, hoping people would leave them the fuck alone. 
He was close, his heart beating rapidly, and dick swallowed down deep in her throat while her hand fondled his sack, it adding fuel to the burning fire in his gut, the muscles starting to tighten—at the thought of finishing in her mouth, he frowned. 
A sign on the side of the road caught his attention, showing some places off the next exit that gave him an idea. Glancing at the clock on the stereo, he made a decision.
Or, more accurately, his dick made a decision. 
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"Don't make me come." 
His sentence came out strained, his big hand on the back of your head and his hard cock nestled in the tight confines of your throat. Tears were streaming from the corners of your eyes at suppressing your gag reflex, saliva dripping down your chin.
What he said made your eyebrows furrow, humming, 'What?' around him. 
You could hear the blinker clicking, his long arm reaching to grab some of your ass. 
"Don't make me come," he said again.
With how he was panting and his tense thighs, you knew it wasn't going to take much more to finish him, and you didn't understand why he wanted you to stop, coming off of him with a gasp, a string of spit keeping you connected. 
Your breaths were labored, sitting up to look at him. 
"Are you okay?" you asked. 
He looked at you with a smirk, his face flushed. 
"I'm fucking amazing," he answered.
His dick was slick as your hand languidly jerked him, easily moving up and down the velvety skin. 
"...and you don't want to come..?" It made no sense. You knew how horny he was. 
"I want to come." His eyes went to the road. "I just don't wanna come in your mouth." He seemed to be looking for something outside, his head moving forward with squinted eyes, and your face turned to see where you were, finding that he was taking you down a busy city street lined with stores, restaurants, and motels. 
"Um, what's your game plan here, babe?" You were beyond confused. "We're not back in Laredo, where you have your secret sex spots around town." There were different secluded places Javi had found in his younger years to park his truck and fool around with girls. "This seems too risky."
The buildings were getting nicer and newer the closer you got to the towering buildings of downtown. 
"We're not doing anything risky, mi amor (my love). Especially not after this morning. Trust me."
The blinker ticked as he pulled into the parking lot of a hotel that was by far the fanciest you've driven past so far, but definitely not a five-star establishment—maybe three if you had to guess while the others had been ones and twos. 
"You're joking," you said. "We're not getting a hotel room and abandoning your friends." 
He parked in a spot facing the road and turned off the engine, wiggling in his seat as he got his jeans up.
"We're not staying here for the night," he said, watching as he tucked his still-hard cock into the waistband of his pants he buttoned and buckled, covering it with the bottom of his white button-up shirt. 
"This isn't the kind of place that rents by the hour, Javi. We passed those, and I don't get why we didn't stop at one if we're planning to fuck for an hour or two." 
His eyes met yours as he frowned. "I'm not taking the woman I love, my fiancée, to a seedy motel. You deserve better, so I don't give a fuck if this place doesn't rent by the hour, I'm getting us a room no matter how much it costs, and I'm going to fuck you for a couple of hours because I swear I'm going to go fucking crazy if I don't come inside your pussy in the next twenty minutes."
What he said had you clenching hard around nothing, completely down for his plan. There wasn’t anything for you to wipe your face off with, so you settled on using your shirt to get the spit and tears off your skin, not caring about the dark splotches on the coral-colored fabric when you were done. 
"Let's go," you said, grabbing your purse from the floor and getting out of the SUV.
Javi met you at the back of the vehicle and grabbed your hand, pulling you behind him as he briskly walked toward the entrance. 
“I love that you’re comfortable enough in your masculinity to admit you’re not gonna last and didn’t lie to me about how you were gonna rock my world or some shit.”
He looked over his shoulder at you with an eyebrow raised. "Who said I'm not gonna rock your world? Yeah, the first round might be quick, but it's still gonna be good for you, baby." He ended the sentence with a wink, which had your skin heating. Javi focused on what was in front of him as you walked through the doors that automatically slid open upon your approach. 
He wasn't joking when he said he didn't care about the cost—it was a Friday during the busiest travel season of the year, and you hadn't booked ahead; you were lucky they even had a room available. There was no hesitation when they told him the obscene price for one night, and he handed over his American Express credit card. His black leather wallet was in one hand, the fingers of the other tapping impatiently on the marble countertop while he waited for the worker to finish the transaction. 
He didn't read over any of the paperwork he scribbled his signature on, and once they told him the room number and handed over the keycard, his hand was taking yours to quickly lead you to the elevator the hotel employee had pointed out.
The room was a queen suite with the typical bedroom furniture—a bed, nightstands, dresser, TV, as well as a sitting area that consisted of a couch and coffee table, a desk on the opposite wall, beside a mini fridge with a microwave atop it. 
There wasn't much time to take in the details because the moment Javi got the door open, he was dragging you in and kicking it closed as his mouth collided with yours in a hard and searing kiss, palming your ass with one hand, an arm around your back guiding you further into the room. 
The keycard got tossed onto the desk, along with your purse, his tongue eagerly pressing between your lips. Arousal was burning in your belly, your fingers working open the buttons of his shirt while he walked you toward the bed that was in the far corner and felt like it was miles away. 
The tension that had built up since your morning liaison had been interrupted was so thick it was palpable enough to be cut with a knife. There was desperation in your kisses, feeling his need with every hungry press of his lips to yours; relief as you removed each other's clothes, that you were finally somewhere you didn't need to worry about how loud you were or anyone bothering you; overwhelming happiness over the day's events and eagerness to make use of the perfect, not-absurdly squeaky, queen-size bed.
The two of you were naked in record time, and after Javier pulled off the ugly red and green floral printed bedspread to fall into a pile on the floor, he was facing you, his hard dick bobbing between his legs, with a look on his face that promised trouble.
"No," you said.
That just made him grin and move quicker as he replied, "Yes," his arms getting around you as you laughed. He used that impressive strength he developed from doing manual labor on his father's ranch to toss you onto the mattress, where you bounced a few times, the springs complaining under your weight—Javi quickly followed, finding yourself with a sizable man on top of you, his hips nestling in their home between your thighs while his lips found yours once more. 
His hair was soft between your fingers, feeling the hard line of his cock pressing into your belly. 
You spoke between kisses. "You just love… throwing me like… a sack of potatoes." 
You felt his mouth curve into a smile. "Yes."
"One of these days… you're gonna… throw out… your back." 
He nipped at your lip, pulling back to look at you with a grumpy expression. "I'm not gonna throw out my fucking back—I'm used to hauling around calves and bails of hay. Tossing you around is nothing." 
"Okay, Hercules. Now, how do you want me?” You held his cheeks. “Missionary? Doggy? Cowgirl? Reverse cowgirl? From the side? In your lap? What are you feeling? 'Cause you weren't the only one cockblocked this morning, and I would really like to get fucked." 
"Do you wanna come on my fingers again? Or my mouth?" 
"Nope.” You smiled. “Dick, please." 
He crookedly smiled. "I love you so fucking much." 
"A girl tells you she wants your dick, and you proclaim your love—how romantic." 
"My wif-fiancée," he quickly corrected, "tells me she wants my dick when I'm dying to be inside her—I'm gonna proclaim my love for her. Hell, I wanna propose to you again."
You giggled. "The power of my pussy,” you said, pulling him down for a brief kiss, your eyes on his when you separated. "And I love you, too. Position?"
He gave you a quick peck. “You’ll see,” he said and started getting up, a pained groan leaving him. 
Sitting up on your elbows, you watched as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed by you with his feet easily planted on the floor. With where he was on the mattress, you had a view of his profile, taking in the curve of his nose and his plush, pillowy lips, watching him spit on his fingers that he curled around his shaft, hearing the wet strokes as he slicked himself up.
His head turned to you. “Move your legs.” 
He wanted to lie back, and it made you smile as you moved them out of his way and got up on your knees. “I’m riding you,” you said. 
Javi was lying on his back with his long legs bent at the knees along the edge of the bed while his feet touched the ground, and his ass settled a little over halfway to the middle of the mattress. 
He was looking at you with a smile. “Yeah—get on, mi amor (my love).” 
“My ride awaits?” you asked, tossing him a few pillows, Javi putting one under his head as you shuffled toward him. 
“My dick awaits.” And it was, his cock resting against his stomach in the hair below his belly button, shining from his saliva in the dim light coming from over by the door. 
“Yes, it is.” When you went to straddle him, his hand on your thigh stopped you. 
“Other way,” he said. 
A toothy smile appeared on your face. “Reverse cowgirl.” You turned around with your back to him, getting your leg over his hips. “I’m surprised you’re putting me in charge,” you said, keeping a hand on his thigh for balance while the other went between your legs to grab his hard length. “I’d think with how horny you are, you’d wanna just fuck my brains out.” Slotting him at your entrance, you didn’t draw things out and sunk down, matching moans coming from you both as he stretched your tight walls, and you took him all the way down to the hilt. 
His hands were on your hips, holding you flush against him. 
"Don't move," he said through his teeth, his cock twitching inside you. 
You were leaning forward with your palms on his thighs for leverage. 
"I won’t—god, you feel so good inside me, Javi. I love you.” 
"You feel so good around me." He already sounded wrecked. 
It took a minute before his fingers loosened their grip. 
"Monta me (Ride me)." He smacked the side of your ass. "Monta me, mi Cielito (Ride me, my Cielito). Mi amor, mi vida, mi prometida (My love, my life, my fiancée). Haznos venir (Make us come)." 
At the order, you started moving, rising on your knees until only the tip of him remained inside and falling back down, over and over again, at a steady pace. 
"I fucking love you," he groaned. "Fuck, you look so good." His hands squeezed your asscheeks, spreading them and helping you bounce. "This ass—fucking love this ass bouncing on my dick." He gave it a spank; his voice was tight like it was taking everything in him to keep himself from coming. "Love this pussy; this perfect pussy—I was made for this pussy.” His breaths were loud, and you knew if you looked at his face, it’d be screwed up like he was in pain with his eyebrows pulled together and teeth bared.
“Javi,” you moaned when his thumb slid through your wetness up his cock to press to your asshole, circling the tight ring of muscle, something blissful curling inside you. 
“I'm gonna marry you,” he continued. “I wanna give you my last name. Shit," he hissed and audibly gulped. "You’re off your birth control. You're gonna make me come, and I could get you pregnant." 
Obviously, he was loving the visual of seeing your ass move up and down as you worked yourself on him—and you were loving the things he was saying, so much so it had a wave of arousal dripping down his cock and making it slicker where you were joined.  
Heat had started forming at the base of your spine, your slick walls hugging his dick, spearing into you and fitting so perfectly, each stroke felt like nirvana.
"I'm gonna keep you full of my come today," he gritted out. "Gonna fuck you as many times as you'll let me to keep you stuffed."
A shock of pleasure in your tummy made you clench hard around him and stuttered your rhythm.
"You think you'll knock me up?" you panted.
"I know I'll knock you up—if not today, maybe tomorrow or the next day. I'll fuck a baby into you, eventually."
It was a promise, and it thrilled you.
Your breaths started coming out heavier, feeling the threads of your orgasm beginning to wind. Your brows were furrowed as you concentrated on your movements, breathily moaning. 
As incredible as this felt, just the penetration wouldn't get you off; you needed more—it was loud between your legs, hearing his cock wetly working in and out of your pussy, the bed’s springs softly squeaking beneath you, rough sounds coming from Javi’s throat, and softer ones slipping past your lips, the air conditioner, below the window, loudly thrumming in the background. 
"Fuck, lay back," he said. "I'm too fucking close."
It took a little maneuvering to get your legs out in front of you while keeping his dick in place and lying back so your spine was to his chest. You ended up leaning a little to the left, so your head rested beside his on two stacked pillows. His fingers dug into your waist, and he started thrusting up from beneath you, the new angle making his cock press into spots that had stars bursting behind your closed eyelids and his name leaving your lips in a hedonistic chant that seemed to only get louder as the seconds passed. 
This was on par with how you expected he'd fuck you when you got into this room, his feet planted and giving him the traction he needed to push up his hips and fuck into you hard and fast, his dick never more than halfway out of you. 
He was grunting in your ear, the pleasure in you building, hearing the slick slide of him fucking in and out of you. Your hands had grabbed onto his forearms for something to hold onto, your fingernails, no doubt leaving behind crescent moon indents in his skin. 
And since Javi knew your body like the back of his hand and how to play you like a goddamn fiddle, he licked two of his fingers and pressed the pads to your perky little clit, circling it just the way you liked while his other hand massaged your breast before his digits were tweaking your stiff nipple. 
"Need you to come for me," he grunted. "I wanna feel my fiancée come around my dick. I need you to squeeze me, so I can fuck you full of me—need to fill you up." 
The muscles in your abdomen began to wind up tight; the onslaught of his cock pistoning into you, his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your nipple being pinched and rolled had you soaring toward your end. 
"Oh god," you whined through hard breaths, "I'm gonna come—you're gonna make me come." 
"Let go, mi amor (my love)," he said. "Come for me, baby." 
The tension built inside you until you were cresting, coming with a shout, your body tensing up and pussy clamping down on him so hard it sent him with you. Javi pushed up into you as deep as possible, a low, dirty moan leaving him as his dick jerked hard, and you felt the pulse of spurts and spurts of his come painting your walls. 
Pleasure had overtaken every molecule in your body, your breaths panting from your lungs, and your heart thudding a mile a minute, not bothering to fight it when you went completely lax and became a dead weight atop your future husband. You welcomed the sweaty arms that wrapped around your middle, and turned you onto your sides without dislodging himself inside you, your hand going back to push into his damp hair, his face nuzzling at the back of your neck. 
There was a stillness to the room as your hearts slowed together and breaths evened out, the hum of the air conditioner’s motor the loudest sound. Calm had washed over you both; peace, relief—for the first time since you were back home, you could actually relax. There was no fear that someone heard you or you were too loud. Instead, you were able to bask in the post-coital glow when the two of you never felt closer and more connected. 
Minutes pass, and in the distance, you hear the occasional door slamming and voices passing by your rented room, fading away as quickly as they came. 
"What's your dream wedding like?" Javi asked, ending the long, comfortable silence. 
“You know how women say they’ve been dreaming about their wedding since they were little girls?” 
"Yeah?" 
"I don't know what kind of childhoods they had, but weddings never crossed my mind as a kid aside from when we had to go to one, and they were really fucking boring to me.” Javi snorted. “There was maybe one time I thought about my own nuptials, and it was in my early teens at my cousin's wedding that was insane. There were over two hundred people in attendance at some swanky venue, with expensive food and booze—think steak and lobster, a raw oyster bar, and Dom Pérignon; they went all out, and my mother made this comment about how so many of the guests would come to my future wedding—and she didn’t mean our family members; she was talking about the wealthy friends of our family I barely knew and the rich acquaintances my parents just wanted to rub elbows with.” 
“You hated that,” he said, kissing your bare shoulder. 
“I fucking hated it and was not okay with the idea that one of what was supposed to be the happiest days of my life would be hijacked to keep up appearances.”
“Sounds fucking miserable.” 
“Right? I don’t want a big wedding. I don’t like being the center of attention, and I know I seem pretty confident, but I actually get awful stage fright. So, I don’t think I want a small wedding either. My dream wedding is you and me going to the courthouse with your dad and Robyn as witnesses and eloping, then afterward, we throw a big party to celebrate with our friends and family—that just sounds nice to me.” 
His lips pressed to your neck. 
"What about you?" you asked. "How do you imagine your dream wedding?" 
His arms around your belly squeezed a little tighter. 
"My dream wedding is whatever you want it to be." 
"As sweet as that is, it's your special day, too. And you're a big 'ol sap, so I know you've got something in mind.” Your fingers scratched lovingly at his scalp.
"I don't want a big wedding, either.”
“I am well aware.” 
Years and years ago, his wedding with Lorraine was going to be the biggest in Laredo that year since her dad was the mayor and her family was well-known and the wealthiest in town—which was a huge reason why it was well over seventeen years later, and people still talked about Javier leaving her at the altar.
“Yeah, I guess you are—I love you.” He held you closer. 
“I love you, too, baby,” you said. 
“You wanna know how I picture our wedding?” he asked. “You know the tree on the hill out on Pop's land, I take you to watch the sunset?" It was the place where you told him you knew he loved you before he ever said the words and somewhere you’d returned many times after. 
"I'm very aware of the spot. We ride out there all the time." Him on his horse, Sombra, and you on his cousin's, Dulce. Javi was more than happy having you on his horse with him, but you had asked him to teach you how to ride by yourself, and he did. You quite enjoyed being able to do it on your own.  
His finger started skating along the skin of your belly, drawing random shapes. 
“I like to imagine us at the tree as the sun sets with my dad officiating—he’s holding his bible, and I know we’re not into that shit, but it’s Pop, and he’d give it his all, including a scripture or two, and a photo of mi mamá (my mom) he’d hold under his fingers to the cover of the book so she’s there with us, too, and Seb and Robyn would come as our only two witnesses.” His cousin, and your best friend/co-worker, who were dating. 
You could picture it perfectly, standing there beneath the old oak tree’s tall, twisting limbs and canopy of green leaves with Javi’s big hands holding yours as you said your vows and intertwined your lives with an exchange of rings, the sky exploding in color from the setting sun. 
"Your dream wedding is just a stupidly romantic version of my dream wedding,” you said. “How dare you out-dream wedding me!" 
He chuckled, sitting up a little and using his hand to turn your head by the chin so he could lean over and kiss your cheek. "I told you my dream wedding is whatever you want it to be.” He nuzzled against your face. “I don’t think I’ve told you this,” he said. “Sunrise and sunset used to be nothing more than the beginning and end of my day when I worked on the ranch, and then I met you—the sun would rise, and it meant another day with you in my life, and the beauty of it took my breath away. And sunsets? They’ve never been prettier—they’re gorgeous, and I want to share every sunrise and sunset with you for the rest of my life.” 
You flipped over, and it had him slipping out from between your legs, a low hiss coming from his mouth. 
"Sorry," you said, pushing him to lie on his back as you straddled his hips, and laid chest to chest with him. Your face hovered over his with your arms holding yourself up beside his head, ignoring his come oozing out of you. His eyes were squeezed shut as you stared at him. "I’m gonna marry you so hard, you sweet, adorable, romantic man—you said your dream wedding is whatever I want it to be, and now it’s your stupidly romantic wedding at our tree during sunset." 
His eyelids blinked open, and he smiled crookedly. 
"Yeah?" 
"Yes." You nodded. "Is your dad even ordained?" 
He had a thoughtful expression. "I don't think so? But I read you can get ordained online, and it's not difficult to do. We can ask him if he'd want to." 
Your face softened. "You know he'd love to." 
He was smiling. "Yeah, he would." 
The look on your face shifted to something mischievous. "And if he says no, we can just ask Steve to do it." 
His features scrunched into something annoyed, and a hand slapped your ass hard, making you laugh. 
"Over my dead body," he said. "He's not doing our fucking wedding ‘cause he’d say embarrassing shit and ruin everything. If Pop won't do it, then we're going to the courthouse." 
"That's it? We're either having a sunset tree wedding or going to the courthouse? There's nothing else you'd want?"
He thought it over for a second.
"I like your idea about a party afterward with our friends and family," he answered. "I'm with you on not wanting to get married in front of everyone, but I do wanna celebrate with them."
You smiled. "So, private ceremony and a poppin' party afterward? Did we just plan our wedding?"
He matched your look, his hand coming up to hold your cheek. "Yeah, I think we did." He pulled you down, kissing you tenderly. When he looked at you after, his gaze was soft. "Any day, any time, you tell me when, and I'll be there no matter what," he said. "Nothing will keep me from marrying you.” He suddenly looked unsure. “You know that, right?" 
It made your heart ache. He was worried you thought he might not show up to your wedding as he'd done at his first. 
"Javi, baby." You put all your weight onto one arm to push his hair out of his face with your other hand and soothingly stroke your fingers through the soft strands. "Is the sky blue?"
His eyebrows creased. "Yes?" 
"Is grass green?" 
"Yes?" 
"Are you the sexiest man alive?" 
He frowned. "Fucking Harrison Ford is this year’s sexiest man alive, and you know that." He was pouting, and it made you snort. 
When he saw the People Magazine while the two of you were at the grocery store proclaiming Harrison Ford as this year's sexiest man alive the previous month, Javi had grumbled, 'You gotta be fucking kidding me,' because he knew you thought the actor was attractive and had seen the majority of his filmography. Javi had a love/hate relationship with the guy since he did quite enjoy his movies but couldn't stand the fact that the other man was your celebrity crush. 
"Well, whoever decides the sexiest man alive at People Magazine is wrong since the correct answer to that question was yes—you, Javier Peña, are the sexiest man alive."
"Fucking Harrison Ford," he muttered. 
You huffed in exasperation, rolling your eyes. 
"Let's get back on topic. Does two plus two equal four?" 
"Yes," he answered.  
"Is Empire Strikes Back the best Star Wars movie?" 
"Yes—why are you asking these questions?" 
"Because they’re all facts," you said. "Like how I know for a fact you'll be there on our wedding day to say 'I do' and put a ring on my finger so I'll officially become Mrs. Javier Peña."
His dimple was showing he was smiling so big. "Yes, I fucking will." 
His arms were around you, and a surprised sound left you as he rolled you onto your back, your thighs cradling his hips and feeling his cock beginning to harden between your bodies.  
He lightly bit at your chin, his lips making a wet trail of kisses under your jaw that had tingles skittering down your spine, moaning when he got to the sensitive skin of your throat, your fingers tangling into his hair. 
"I'm gonna marry you.” His voice was muffled while he kissed and bit along the column of taut skin. "And there's a chance you could be pregnant with our baby when I do." 
He was making it hard to think while he sucked at your pulse. 
"When?" you gasped. 
"Hmmm?" he hummed. 
You swallowed hard, feeling your heart beating in your cunt. 
"When do you want to get married?" 
His head came up to look you in the eyes, low light from the fixture above the room’s door across the bedroom glowing behind the mess of brown hair on his head, giving some strands sticking out at odd angles a honeyed hue. His lips were red, cheeks pinked up, his gaze dark and hungry. 
"Whenever you want," he answered. "Next weekend, next month—if you're planning on inviting people out of state, I'm fine with waiting a few months to give them time to figure out their travel shit. It's all up to you." He pecked your lips. "Most of my family are back home, and then I'd want Steve's family there—that's it for me." 
He kissed you then and really kissed you. The kind of kiss that told you the conversation was over, and he wanted to shift his focus to the fact you were both naked in a bed, in a place where you could fuck with abandon and no interruptions.
Javi moved you further up the mattress and sheathed his hard dick back inside your sopping pussy, the slickness of his come allowing him to slip right in—his mouth was fused to yours while he slowly rocked, letting you feel every ridge and vein along his shaft pressing against your inner walls. 
He had you feeling incredibly full with how he was keeping most of himself buried inside your cunt, pushing in so deep you thought he had to be up in your guts. Your legs wrapped around his waist and locked at the ankles, his large palm grabbing your left hand from his hair to lace your fingers together, his lips leaving yours to kiss the diamond before pressing your hands into the bed beside your head, his mouth back on yours. 
It started soft and slow, neither of you rushing to come and simply enjoying being with the other. At some point, there was a shift, and the kisses became more heated until he was breaking away to get up on his knees, untangling your legs from him and moving them to one side, causing your hips to twist onto your side with his cock still inside you. He had one hand gripping your thigh, the other on the side of your ass, and he started moving at a hard, fast pace that had skin slapping against skin as his hips connected with your backside and the backs of your thighs. 
He made you come by getting his fingers into the tight space between your closed legs to play with your clit while he pounded into you, and before you even recovered, he had you up on your spread knees, your chest to the mattress as you caught your breath. Your fingers were clawing at the snow-white sheets and moaning loudly when his tongue licked against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. 
Javier said he was going to fuck you for a couple of hours in this hotel room, and he did.
In the first hour, he had you on top of him, on your knees, your back, your stomach, your side, bent over the bed and on the edge of it. You lost track of how many times you came, and it was a mess between your legs with the two times Javi had finished inside you. 
There was, of course, a break for Javi to recover after he'd come, and so you both could drink some water from the plastic cups on a tray with the empty ice bucket. 
His cell phone started ringing about an hour and a half after you arrived. 
There was a thin sheen of sweat coating both of your naked bodies, and you were lying back with your head on a pillow—Javi's lips were wrapped around the swollen berry of your clit while two of his thick fingers were deep in your come-filled cunt, pressing into that spot that had your vision blurring, so close to climaxing you were right on the precipice. 
Your hands were in his hair, moaning loudly, and the sudden ringing had you jumping in your skin. 
"Ignore it," he said into your pussy.
He was back to sucking on your bundle of nerves, and you focused on the pleasure building in your tummy, winding tighter and tighter. The call went to voicemail, and the ringing stopped. Finally, you fell over the edge, coming with a gasp, your muscles clenching up tight, euphoria erupting out from your center. 
"Good girl," his muffled voice said, working you through your high. 
You were feeling amazing, your body completely relaxing, limbs trembling, practically melting into the bed, and having to fight off the exhaustion from so many orgasms that was threatening to make you fall asleep. 
Ringing started again, and it startled you. 
Javi sighed against your cunt, his mouth and fingers leaving you and the mattress jostling as he got up. 
"Who the fuck is calling?" His voice was a little hoarse. 
"My money is on either your dad or Steve," you slurred, sounding drunk. 
Your eyes were closed, but you could hear the rustle of him grabbing his jeans off the ground to get the cell phone off of his belt. 
"Goddammit," he muttered, and you heard the beep of him pressing a button. "What?" he answered. "Yeah, we're fine... She said yes... Thanks..." He was talking to Steve. You were sure of it with his annoyed, clipped answers. "We had time, so I brought her downtown... Yeah, we'll be back before then..." He loudly sighed. "With all the great shit that happened this morning, I was too busy enjoying time with my new fiancée to even think about calling anyone. Sorry... Okay, I gotta go... Bye." Another beep of him pressing the end call button and the phone dropping down to his jeans on the floor.
"Was he worried we hadn't gotten back?" you asked. 
"Yeah." 
"That's sweet." 
"It's annoying." 
The bed’s springs softly squeaked as he got onto it. 
You smiled. "I think it's cute that Steve gets on your nerves as if he was your sibling—you love him, you'd take a bullet for him, but just the sound of him breathing aggravates you; Steve's your adopted brother." 
His hand grabbed your ankle, rubbing his thumb over your skin. 
"Maybe he is." 
"He is. His kids call you tío (uncle), and you love them like they are your flesh and blood."
"I do." 
"Yes, you do." Your eyes blinked open, moving to sit up on your elbows to see him sitting on the bed by your legs, his gaze meeting yours. "There are a lot of people who love you, Javi, and I'm happy our kids will have so much family." 
He frowned, and you knew he was about to ask about your own, who'll be up in arms when they discover you’re engaged to him. 
"I don't want to talk about it," you said before he could open his mouth. "This is a happy, horny time, and we're not gonna ruin the mood with my baggage—I gotta go to the bathroom." You started getting up, and he stopped you with his hand on your leg, your eyes meeting his. 
"Mi familia es tu familia y te aman sin condiciones (My family is your family and they love you no matter what)—te amamos sin condiciones (we love you no matter what). Tu familia biológica no saben lo que se están perdiendo (Your biological family have no idea what they’re missing). Eres inteligente, hermosa, compasiva, y cómica (You’re smart, beautiful, compassionate, and funny)—eres increíble y si ellos no pueden ver eso, no los necesitas (you are incredible and if they can’t see that, you don’t need them).”  
Emotion had your eyes burning. "Thank you," you said, leaning forward to touch his forearm. "I know you all love me, and I love you—it'll be nice when I can change my last name."
A little smile pulled up on his lips. "I can't wait to give you my last name—now, go pee.” He patted your leg. “We only have half an hour left, and I don't wanna waste a single minute." 
"You know, you get really bossy when you're horny." You got off the bed on shaky legs, something you were used to, padding across the floor. 
"Would you rather me be grumpy?" he called after you, making you laugh.
Stopping at the bathroom doorway near the room's door, your hand on the mahogany-colored wood, you looked over at him. "Grumpy-horny Javi is very hot, and I can expect to be railed senseless—like last night when you were mad about the squeaky bed and worked out your frustration by putting me face down, ass up, and fucking me hard. With bossy-horny Javi, I'm in for an insane amount of orgasms because you get all pleasure dommy and make it your life's purpose to make me come so many times, I look like a newborn giraffe when I try to walk afterward." 
A short huff of air left his nose, and he looked amused. 
"Is there a regular-horny Javi?" he asked.
"Yes.” You nodded. “Regular-horny Javi is usually stuck to me like glue and handsy before we get naked. The sex is very intimate and involves a lot of kissing, and we're so comfortable we sometimes chat and laugh in the middle of it." 
He was giving you a fond smile. "That one's your favorite," he said. 
You grinned. "Of course, and it's the horny Javi I get the majority of the time, so I am living the fucking dream." 
"It's my favorite, too."
"Like, don't get me wrong, the last hour or so has been spectacular and some of your best work, but all the position changes had me feeling like we were filming a porno." 
Something happened because he was suddenly giving you a blank stare, and it had your eyebrows cinching together. After a few seconds of silence, you spoke. "Javi?" 
Saying his name had him coming back to himself with a slight shake of his head. 
He said something so quietly you couldn't hear it from how far away you were. 
"What?" you asked. 
His eyes were on yours, and they'd gone darker. 
"I'm buying a camcorder." 
"Oh my god, Javier," you said in exasperation. "You're not buying a camcorder for the sole purpose of us making a dirty movie." 
He was frowning. "I'd use it for other stuff—like our wedding and the birth of our kid." 
"You're absolutely not recording me giving birth." 
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. "No birthing video, got it. I still wanna record our wedding and some of the party. I'm sure there's a lot of other shit we'd wanna film." 
"Uh-huh." You crossed your arms. "We've been together awhile, and you're just now deciding you should get a camcorder?"
"Yeah, seems like a great investment." He shrugged. 
"Seems like a horny investment—you're ridiculous. Buy your camcorder, Mr. Amateur Porn Star." You walked into the bathroom and flicked on the light. 
"Our homemade porno would be better than anything professionally made!" he shouted from the other room.
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Javier was getting old, and he fucking hated it. 
When the idea came to him to stop at the hotel, he thought two hours was more than enough time—he could fuck her over and over and over again to work it out of his system so he wouldn't be on edge the rest of the trip. 
What he didn't account for, in his grand horny scheme, was his goddamn refractory period. It pissed him off that he wasn't ready to go again after five, ten minutes like it'd been in his twenties. No, on a good day, he was looking at fifteen, and most of the time, it was at least twenty. So, forty minutes out of their two stolen hours they had alone together, his dick didn't work.
It made him so fucking mad.
The time wasn't wasted—the first twenty minutes, he got to enjoy some post-sex cuddling, and they planned their wedding. The second time, the moment he could function, he was using his mouth and fingers to make her feel really fucking good.  
This has never been an issue since they haven’t had a time constraint like this before. The few Saturdays where they spent the majority of the day tangled in their bed's sheets, it wasn't a big deal for them to take a fifteen to twenty-minute breather between rounds. 
But in these two uninterrupted hours after the love of his life agreed to marry him and told him she was ready for them to start their family, revealing she was already off of her birth control, every minute counted; there was something in the back of his mind, an urge, that he needed to bury himself inside her and fuck his come as deep as possible—it was insatiable. He'd already finished twice, and it wasn't enough, and because he had to wait twenty fucking minutes to get hard again, there was only enough time for him to come once more. 
Which was where they were now, with Javier kneeling on the bed while she straddled his hips, her arm around his neck, the other on the bed behind her for balance, his hands gripping her ass and helping her work herself up and down his cock. 
His forehead was wet with sweat, feeling a drop slide down the side of his face, the rest of his body glistening. Exertion had grunts pushing from his throat, his mouth on hers smothering her moans. 
He had already got one last orgasm out of her and was heading toward his own end. Her pussy was drooling all over his dick with the mixture of their come and her arousal, dripping down to coat his balls and fall onto the sheets—they were making a mess, and he planned to leave the housekeepers a big tip for all the trouble. 
The familiar pressure was coiling deep in his gut, electricity igniting in his core, a telltale sign he was close. He broke the kiss and got both of her arms around his neck, making her squeak in surprise when he practically tackled her back onto the mattress, their bodies bouncing a little for a few seconds. 
His hips were moving fast, hearing the wet smack of his body colliding with hers and his cock working in and out of her drenched cunt. 
His teeth found her chin with a small amount of pressure while his eyes were closed, holding himself up with his arms bracketing her ears. 
"Come for me, Javi," she breathlessly said, grabbing onto his ass, her fingers digging into the flexed muscles. "Come for me, baby." His face went into the crook of her neck, panting hot breaths against her skin. "You've fucked me so good today, Javi. I need you to come—fuck a baby into me." 
Pleasure sliced through him like a burning knife, and he whined, his strokes speeding up. 
"Anything," he panted. "I'll give you anything you want—you can have anything. I'm yours—" he was fuck drunk and rambling. "—I'm all yours, and I'll give you a baby—I'll get you pregnant. We'll have our baby. Fuck," he groaned. 
All his nerves lit up, energy thrumming under his skin and sparking through his body. The knot in his belly was tightening, his rhythm becoming uneven until he was at the point of no return—he was coming, and nothing could stop him. 
He pushed forward hard, sinking his dick inside her to the root as it jerked, and pleasure overtook him, raggedly moaning that dulled when he bit into her shoulder—his come gushed into her depths, his hips rolling to fuck it deeper before the oversensitivity made him hiss. 
Something in the recesses of his brain was purring happily—satiated. 
His body was blissfully relaxed, and he slumped onto the woman under him, feeling completely wrung out and thinking he might pass out. 
"'m sorry," he mumbled into her neck. "Is this okay?" 
Her fingers slid into his hair, and tingles shivered down his spine. 
"It's fine, baby," she whispered. "But don't pass out—we have to leave." 
The sound he made was a mix of a groan and whine. He was so comfortable he didn't want to move. 
How mad would Steve and Connie be if they didn't go on the beach trip and stayed here for a few more hours?
"No," she said. "We're not ditching your friends." Of course, she knew what he was thinking. 
"I don't wanna move." He actually whined this time. 
"You knew we had two hours here, and that's it. We need to take a quick shower so it's not obvious we've been fucking, and then we gotta get back to Steve and Connie's because the kids are excited to go to the beach with you." 
He nuzzled closer into her throat. 
"'m comfy." 
She pinched his asscheek hard, and he twitched. 
"We're not disappointing the children, Javier. Now, get up." She smacked his ass. 
"You're mean,” he grumbled. 
"I'm not mean. I'm polite to our hosts. You're being a big whiny baby." 
"Que mala que eres conmigo (You're so mean to me)." 
"Yo tampoco soy mala en español (I'm not mean in Spanish either)." 
He sighed. "Cinco minutos, por favor, mi amor (Five minutes, please, my love)." 
"Bueno, cinco minutos por que eres lindo (Okay, you can have five minutes because you're cute)." The fingers on one of her hands scratched at his scalp, and her other hand rubbed over his back, a content sigh leaving him as he smiled. 
She was so soft and warm beneath him, her scent filling his nose and soothing him. 
Up until he met her, home was the ranch he grew up on—no matter where in the world he lived, it was always that house where his parents were, and he was welcome and loved.
Home was no longer a place. 
Home was the woman he loved's arms wrapped around him; It was her grinning at him with that gorgeous smile; It was her perfect lips pressed to his; It was her delicate hand held in his larger palm; It was her beautiful eyes staring at him with all the love in the world. 
Home was his Cielito, his little heaven. 
And as long as he was with her, he was home. 
His mind had drifted, and quickly, his consciousness went with it, too. 
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A loud snore erupted against your neck, the sudden noise causing you to jolt. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered. 
You explicitly told him not to pass out, you had even asked him after going to the bathroom if he should really go again because you had a feeling it’d put him to sleep, and he reassured you he’d be perfectly fine—the dirty fucking liar. 
“Javi?” you said softly, lightly patting his back. “Wake up, babe. We have to get going, honey.” 
His body tensed, and he sucked in a breath as he awoke immediately, his head raising to look at you with bleary eyes. 
“Fuck.” His voice was hoarse. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Sure did, Sleeping Beauty.” You rubbed along his spine. “We gotta get up and leave. You can take a nap at the beach.”
His pouty lips were dipped low in a frown. 
“With you…?”
You smiled, pushing some hair away from his face. "Is this one of those days where you can't go more than a few seconds without touching me?"
Those big brown eyes of his got bigger as he nodded. 
In general, Javi was constantly touching you, but there were some days when he was practically stuck to you like a handsy octopus and went with you everywhere—except the bathroom, the one place you firmly told him, no, he couldn't come with you and hang out while you did your business. 
"My cute, needy fiancé." You cupped his cheek. "I'll stay close if you need me to."
His head turned to kiss your palm. "I need you to." 
"Okay, now let's get up." 
A long, sad sigh exhaled from his lungs. "Fine," he said, leaning forward to peck you on the lips. 
He moved then, his eyes closing for a moment as he pulled his soft length out of you, his hands sinking into the mattress when he pushed himself back and up with a grunt to kneel between your legs. 
His gaze was stuck at the apex of your thighs, the lips of your sex puffy, and your hole starting to drip his come—two of his fingers scooped up what had dribbled out and pushed it back in, your mouth falling open.
His dark eyes locked on yours, his voice a deep, rough rasp when he spoke. "We don't want to waste any." He laid his other hand onto your lower abdomen, his digits spread wide to take up ample real estate over your womb. "We need to keep you full. Can you be my good girl and keep me inside?" 
Pleasure zipped along your spine, your bottom lip pulling between your teeth as you nodded. 
"Yes," you answered, putting a hand over his on your skin. 
He picked up your smaller palm, his gaze dropping to the ring that made him smile, the pad of his thumb mapping the mountain range of diamonds before he lifted it to his lips in a kiss. 
"Good," he said, setting your hand down and removing the fingers of his other from inside your pussy. You watched as he sucked the come-soaked digits into his mouth with a dirty groan at the taste. They came out licked clean from between his lips. "We taste so fucking good together," he told you, with his attention on you. "Let's shower, mi amor (my love). Then we can go and figure out what the fuck we're gonna tell Steve and Connie on the way." 
"Are you saying they wouldn't appreciate us spending a dumb amount of money to fuck for a couple of hours instead of secretly getting busy under their roof?" 
"They'll be happy we did it outside of their house, but it'd piss Steve off that we made them worry and didn't call to tell them we had other plans because we were too busy fucking." 
You blew air out of the side of your mouth. "We just can't win with that guy." 
"I told you he's fucking annoying." 
"Eh—" You shrugged. "—he's just your brother from another mother, and you both find dumb shit to get annoyed about with each other. I wish I only got annoyed about dumb shit with my little brother, but he's actually an entitled dick because my parents gave him anything and everything he's ever wanted and kiss the ground he walks upon."
He was frowning now. 
"Are you going to tell them?" he asked softly.
"About the engagement? Yeah, the next time my mom calls to make sure I'm not bringing any more shame on our family name—she's gonna be pissed, and I can feel it in my bones that it will cause me to go no contact with her and the rest of them." 
His hand rubbed over your thigh. "I'm sorry." The remorse was heavy in his tone. 
"Meh." You waved away his apology. "Nothing to be sorry about. I chose you, and I'd choose you again without hesitation. I couldn't care less if us getting married upsets them. We're happy, and that's all that matters." 
"We are happy. I just feel like shit, I'm the reason your relationship with your family is so fucking strained."
"Javi, babe, the relationship has been strained long before we got together. You just gave me a reason to stick up for myself and not put up with their shit. Don't feel bad. You told me today your family is my family, and all of you is all I need." 
"Promise?" he whispered. 
You held out your pinky. "I pinky promise." 
That made him smile, looping his around yours to make the sacred vow that he and his family were really all you needed—Javi leaning down, holding himself up with a hand on the bed beside you as he gave you a tender kiss.
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Javier felt fucking amazing and exhausted. 
Did he overdo it? Probably. His back was already a little achier than usual, and he imagined it'd feel even worse the next day. The fantastic sex was worth the backache and pain in his knees, especially with how his future wife had the post-good sex glow about her that made his chest puff out a little. 
She had a point that a shower was needed before they left the hotel room so they didn't reek of sex, which they quickly took after getting up. 
One twenty-dollar bill was put on top of the hotel notepad sitting on the desk that Javier had scribbled, 'Thank you,' as they left. The bedding had been stripped from the bed and put in one pile, while their used towels were in another. 
The same person who checked them in, checked them out, and, from the look on her face, didn’t buy their lie that they were leaving so early due to a family emergency—it was probably Cielito trying to sell it by saying they had to rush to the hospital because his nephew had been viciously attacked by a… duck.
They were driving on the freeway, her hand in his, resting on her legging-covered thigh. 
"A duck?" he asked. They'd been silent up until now, but he needed to know where that came from. "We're in Florida where there are actual dangerous wild animals like fucking alligators and sharks—hell, a dog woulda made sense, and you said my fake nephew was attacked by a duck?" 
"Oh my god, Javier," she groaned, covering her eyes with her spare hand. "I know it was stupid, but I was super uncomfortable with the looks the employees were giving me." 
He frowned. "What looks?" He glanced over at her, and her hand lowered to meet his eyes. 
"The extremely judgey, disgusted looks because they thought I was a working girl—the mistaken identity was fine; that didn't bother me. It was how they looked at me like I was less of a person than them." She was frowning. "It just made me feel so bad for actual working girls who have to deal with that bullshit on the daily." 
"Fuck." He focused back on the road. "I'm sorry you went through that, and I shouldn't have put you in that spot." He sighed, untangling their hands to push his shower-damp hair back with his hand. "I've been so caught up in you wearing the ring and assuming other people would notice it, too, that it didn't even cross my mind how us only spending a couple of hours at a hotel would look."
She sounded amused when she spoke. "It's adorable that you assume everyone knows we're engaged and figured the hotel employees thought we were just an incredibly horny couple instead of a lady of the night with her John." 
If people weren't tipped off she was his fiancée with the ring on her finger, then he was going to start telling every person they came in contact with, so there wasn’t any more confusion in the future—giddiness bubbled up inside him over the thought of eventually getting to introduce her as his wife. 
If he’d been wearing a ring, she wouldn’t have been put in that situation; it would’ve been clear as day they were married…
“Marry me,” he said, quickly looking over at her. 
She giggled. “I’ve already agreed to marry you.”
“No—“ He shook his head. “—I know I said I was fine waiting a few months for our wedding, but I fucking can’t—I wanna marry you as soon as possible." His attention went forward once more, nerves fluttering in his gut. 
She reached to grab his hand and held it in both of hers. 
"You know there are a lot of men who dread their wedding day. They're the guys who call their wives 'balls and chains,' like being married is comparable to being in jail and an all-around nuisance even though they're the ones who proposed in the first place. The fact you're impatient to marry me makes me very happy—you're excited about our wedding day and don't see marriage as you losing your freedom; you see it as a guarantee you'll spend the rest of your life with the person you love." 
He smiled. "Yeah," he said. "That's right." 
"Regarding marrying me as soon as possible—my heart's set on the wedding at the tree we discussed. We can talk to your dad when we get home and see if he wants to get ordained. If he doesn't, then we'll go to the courthouse, make it official, and we can throw a party later. If your dad wants to officiate, I say we give it a month to get everything worked out with him and at the ranch." 
A month at most. He could wait a month, right?
"Okay," he said, glancing toward her. "I'm fine with that." 
She grinned. "Great. So, what's our story about where we've been since this morning?" 
He looked at the road. "It won't be that we were viciously attacked by a duck..."
“Oh my god!”
It took them a bit to come up with something pretty believable—after spending a considerable amount of time at the beach, Javier gave her a tour of the area and took her exploring by foot around downtown. It was plausible. 
They'd made sure they looked put together before leaving the hotel so it didn't raise any suspicions when they returned to their friends. 
Arriving at the Murphy's, happy squeals could be heard as Javier unlocked the front door, and for a split second, he imagined a future where it wasn't his niece and nephews who were excited he was home, but his own children; the thought of his kids being unable to control their volume because they were just so happy to see him had warmth spreading through his body to the tips of his fingers to his toes. 
The moment he stepped foot into the house, a three-year-old was screaming excitedly, "Tío!" and little arms hugged his legs as best they could. 
Javier smiled, bending with a groan, saying, "Mi principito (My little prince)." He picked up the child, holding him in his arm while he toed off his black leather Chelsea boots in front of a shoe rack filled to the brim with children’s and adult shoes, Cielito following him inside and shutting the door. 
"Are we going to the beach, tío?" Stevie asked, looking up at him. 
"Yeah, bud—” He tickled the child’s belly, making him laugh and squirm. “—in a little bit." 
He heard the pattering of feet before he saw the oldest of the kids running into the room they were in. 
"You're back!" Olivia said with a big smile. "We can finally go to the beach!" 
Steve had walked in. 
"Sorry, we got back so late, mi tesorito (my little treasure)." Javier apologized to the young girl. 
"And where were you?" Steve asked. 
His friend’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion when their gazes met. Javier moved Stevie into his other arm so he could pull Cielito into his side, keeping his hand on her hip.
"The beach, then I gave my fiancée a tour of the city, and we walked around everywhere."  
Steve's eyes narrowed further. "Bullsh—crap." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Where were you really?" 
Javier's jaw clenched. "I just told you, and I'm not gonna repeat myself, so drop it."
"Olivia, baby girl, take your brother to the family room. I need to have an adult ears-only conversation with your tío Javi." 
The nine-year-old looked confused but came forward and took the younger child from him. 
"Come on, Stevie," she said, heading out of the room. "We'll hang out with tío more later. Let's go watch cartoons." 
Their father looked over his shoulder, watching them depart, and once they were out of earshot, he was rounding on Javier.
"You asshole," he harshly whispered. "Walking around downtown, my ass." He stepped forward and tugged on Javier's shirt collar. "These hickies tell me you were doing a hell of a lot more than walking." Shit, Javier batted away his hand, glaring at the blonde man. "What if you'd gotten caught, where? In the back of that rental? You just expected I'd bail you out of jail? Were you even thinking with your brain? Or just with your dick?" 
Anger was sizzling in his gut, along with shame, because they had almost gotten caught, and there was a chance Steve would’ve had to bail them out. 
"I told you to drop it.” The sentence was gritted through his teeth as he seethed, his wif-fiancée putting a comforting hand on his back and rubbing circles.  
"I'm not gonna drop it, 'cause what would I have told the kids if you'd gotten caught?" he asked, crossing his arms back over his chest. 
That was a low blow, and it pissed him off even more. 
"Well, we didn't get fucking caught, and for your information—" He jabbed his finger into the center of Steve's chest. "—I was thinking with my brain—I've been holed up in a hotel for the last two hours with my fiancée, you fucking prick."
A humorless huff left his friend, his eyes wide in disbelief. "You horny fucker—you're joking." 
Javier's hand went to his waist, lifting his eyebrow. "You wanna see the receipt? You’d think we were at the fucking, uh, Ritz or whatever the fuck luxury hotel with how much they charged for one night when this place didn’t even have fucking room service." 
The other man chuckled, shaking his head. He met his gaze. "You know what? I forgive you for making us worry." He clapped a hand on Javier's shoulder, giving him a beaming smile. "Congratulations, Javi. I’m happy for you guys and get it. You were excited and wanted to be alone with the woman you’re marrying. I don't blame you for spending hours in a hotel room.” His smile shifted to something smarmy. “I sure as hell don't want you doing that shit here, and it's not like you can with how goddamn squeaky the guest bed is." 
Javier wanted to wipe the smug smile off his old partner’s face.  
"Hey, Steve?" Cielito cut in. 
His friend looked at her. "Yeah?" 
"Have you seen the first Jurassic Park movie?" 
The blonde man's eyebrows pulled together. "I have." He nodded. "A few times." 
She smiled. "Then you know, life finds a way." 
God, he loved her, and he loved that she enjoyed messing with his best friend as much as he did—Javier snorted and kissed the side of her head. 
Steve looked confused until it dawned on him what she meant. 
"No," he whispered in denial. 
"Yes," Javier replied, smirking, the other man facing him. 
"But the bed..." 
It was Javier’s turn to clap a hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Steve… But the fact you think a bed is the only place to fuck, tells me you’re a really boring and bad lay—need me to give you some pointers?”
“I quite enjoyed what we did on the chair,” Cielito said. “And my god, Javi is always amazing, but he brought his A-game on the floor. You put some blankets and pillows on the stone tiles, and they’re not too bad to be fucked on.”
Steve’s face had slowly gotten redder and redder as they spoke, and Javier was worried the man’s head would explode, especially with how he couldn’t say anything, his blue eyes big and mouth opening and closing like a fish in a bowl. 
“What we’re saying, man,” Javier said, patting the blonde man’s shoulder. “Is when you’re horny enough, you’ll find a way.” He looked over at his fiancée, and her expression showed she was just as delighted as he felt. “From the sound of it, the guest bathroom hasn’t seen any action.”
Her eyes were on his. “A travesty—it’s a law that every room in the house has to be christened. Don’t worry, Steve—“ Her attention moved to the man in front of them, reaching to pat his arm. “—we know a bathroom is too exotic of a locale for you, so we’ll take one for the team and break it in; there’s no need to thank us.”
His former partner finally found his voice. 
"Connie!" Steve yelled, his upper body turning, along with his head, to look behind him. 
"Yeah?!" she answered from the kitchen. 
"Everything in the guest room has to go! It all needs to be burned, and the guest bathroom is getting that remodel you wanted!”
She walked out of the kitchen with a small dish towel in her hands. 
“You said we couldn’t afford to remodel the guest bath...”
“Well, I’m gonna figure out where we can add it into our budget ‘cause it’s happening, along with all new furniture in that room and linen. We also gotta have the floors sanitized.”
She looked past her husband at the two of them. 
“He found out y’all messed around in there?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison. 
She nodded in understanding and straightened. 
“You’re so right, baby,” she said, agreeing too easily. “We have to remodel that entire back bedroom and bathroom now. It’s the only choice we have.”
“I’m happy you agree,” her husband said seriously. “We’ll toss all the bedding when they leave.”
“Except for the throw pillows. I really like those pillows and can have them professionally cleaned.”
“Of course, honey.”
Cielito leaned into him and whispered in his ear while his friends continued speaking, “Did we just inadvertently help Connie bamboozle Steve into doing a house project she’s been wanting done?”
“I think so,” he said just as quietly. “I’m happy to help after all she’s done for us.”
“Agreed. We’ll have to ask if she needs us to fuck anywhere else in or outside the house.”
“Or her van if she wanted a new one.”
“True. She just found a cheat code to get stuff she wants.”
“Will we be like this when we’re married?”
“Javi, babe, you give me anything I want if I ask—I don’t need a cheat code. It’s the same for you with me. If either of us wants anything, the other will do whatever they can to make it happen. Also, we’re equals in our relationship, whereas Steve thinks he’s the man of the house and in charge of everything, but it’s really Connie who runs the show and knows how to play him, like with this guest bedroom remodel. She’s crafty, and I highly respect her. So, no, we won’t be like this because I wouldn’t have or want to manipulate you to do my bidding.” 
“Marry me.”
She giggled. 
“I’m already marrying you, you goober.” She playfully slapped his arm, and he grabbed her hand, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles as he stared into her eyes. 
“Marry me again.”
“Then yes, I’ll double marry you.”
He smiled. “Good. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
And with how she was looking at him, he knew she meant every word, and it made him feel so happy there was a chance he’d float away. 
This was real love. 
This was the kind of love that wraps around you tight and never lets go. 
The kind of love that can handle anything life throws at it since they’re stronger together. 
The kind of love that lasts forever, even after their souls leave this earth. Their story will be remembered for eternity by the stars up above. 
This was real love. 
It was true love, and it was their love. 
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dreamywriter143 · 1 year
Text
Precious Tsyeym
Genre : Fluff, Insecure Reader, NSFW/MDNI.
Status: 2/2 ( 2 part one-shot)
Parings : Neteyam X Reader,
Warnings: Insecure Reader, Soft Neteyam, Simp Neteyam, Loss of Virginity, P in V (Penetration), Oral (F-receiving), Belly bulge, Mentions of blood (very little),Nicknames, Marking, All characters are AGED-UP (19-20’s years).
Summary: Life couldn't get anymore prefect in Y/n's eyes. Being mated before Eywa, Y/n has been on cloud 9 out of pure happiness. She just cant figure out why her mate, Neteyam, hasn't mated with her yet. And she is on a mission to find out why.
Word count: 4.5k
A/N: I'm sorry this came out late! Work has been tough on me but i managed. Anyway, I hope I did ya'll justice! I'm still pretty new to writing smut so please excuse my poor writing!!
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“My love” Neteyam hums softly into the kiss. His hands held Y/n firmly against him,  as he hovered over her. All the while making sure not to break the kiss. Y/n suppresses a moan feeling Neteyam’s tongue slide against hers so deliciously.
“Y/n'' Neteyam mumbles against her swollen lips, reluctantly pulling himself away from her. He drank in her appearance as she laid before him. Her skin flushed purple from their intense make out session with her legs still haphazardly wrapped around him.
The strap on her top has wiggled down her shoulder blade, her hair a mess as she panted to catch her breath. Her swollen lips pucker, with remembrance of his saliva coating them. And her eyes heavily lidded and brimming with desire. Her pupils were blown so wide you could barely see her e/c irises. She looked delectable.  And Neteyam couldn’t wait to get a taste.
“Yes?” She hums back, her eyes tracing down to his lips. Desperately wanting to reattach them again. Neteyam lets out a throaty chuckle, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Even his featherlight touches seem to ignite a fire deep within her, traveling all the way down to her throbbing cunt. She felt herself get wetter by the minute, her poor loincloth soaking up her essence.
She desperately wanted to rub her legs, the itch she couldn’t reach starting to bother her. But she very much liked the position she was in. Laying down with her mate peering down at her hungrily. She relished at the feeling of having him wrapped around her legs, feeling his lower abdomen press against hers. 
Despite having her under him, having her so close and being able to smell her arousal. Neteyam still wanted to make things clear, he wanted his mate to be comfortable and ready. A little part of him was scared of hurting her since it was her first time.
“Are you sure you want this yawne?” He asks, his voice strained. 
He used up all his willpower to hold himself back. His body called for her, craved for her. It sensed her arousal and was ready to pounce at any moment. Take what he had longed for the moment they mated before Ewya. 
“Of course Ma’Neteyam. I’ve wanted this for so long. You are mine, and I am yours. I’m ready” Y/n reached up to stroke her mate's cheek lovingly. 
This was not just an act of lust, but an act of love. They were crossing that huge step into their future. And they were doing it together. It wasn’t just mindless sex, it was passionate and filled with longing. She wanted to be with him, be one with him. 
Neteyam closes his eyes, leaning into her hand that feels so warm. He deeply inhaled, drinking in her scent. He felt his body twitch at her sweet scent, which only caused a deep rumble to vibrate through him. 
“I can smell your arousal Y/n '' Neteyam sighs out. 
His eyes snap open to see her bite her lips in embarrassment. He smirks before taking the hand against his cheeks. He places a delicate kiss along her palm as he slowly traces down her hand. He then takes her hand into his, interlocking their fingers. 
Neteyam then peppers her necks with tiny kisses causing her breathing to falter at the feeling. Feeling her tremble under him only ignited his own desire to satisfy her. Neteyam finds her pressure point, sucking on the skin.
“You smell so sweet….you taste so sweet, my love” Neteyam moans into her neck, his tongue swiping along the skin he had abused. Y/n is unable to hold back her sounds as a moan slips through. She immediately goes to cover her mouth with her free hand but Neteyam stops her. His face lifted to meet her eyes. 
“Don’t” he warns, the tone sending electricity straight through the girl. 
“Let me hear your moans, I want to know how good I make you feel” Neteyam whispers, his fingers tracing her skin. 
He felt her shiver under his touch, nodding at his words. She bit her lips nervously as she felt Neteyam’s finger touch her top. His warm finger traces over the carefully woven material admiring the intricate detailing. His finger brushes over her breast, sliding against her nipple. Y/n takes a sharp intake at the feeling that shot through her. 
“Can I take these off sweetheart?” Neteyam asks sweetly, his eyes looking into hers for any hesitancy. The nonverbal response was all he needed as he worked his way through the top. Easily sliding  off the garment and letting it slump onto the floor. 
His eyes widened momentarily at the sight, her breasts out on display. His eyes drank in the sight of her perked nipples, exposed to the cool air around them. Feeling rather embarrassed Y/n tried to cover herself up only for Neteyam to stop her yet again. With a growl of warning. 
“Don’t cover yourself, your beautiful love” he assures moving himself down. He watches the goosebumps litter her skin as he gently grabs one breast, fondling it. Y/n mewls at the new sensation, her body responding with force. 
Neteyam couldn’t help but lean down and wrap his lips around one of her peaked buds as he sank his teeth against the sensitive skin, causing Y/n’s body to jolt up slightly.
“Ne-teyam!” She squeals, her head pushing into the mat beneath her. Her back arches at the sensation which only helped Neteyam divulge deeper, sucking that much harder as his tongue twirled against her nipple with desire. 
“Shit Y/n, you taste so good. I can't imagine how delicious your pussy will taste” Neteyam mummers against her breast, giving the same attention to the other neglected nipple. 
Y/n sucks in her breath, the vulgar words that left her mates mouth only turned her on more. She feels an unfamiliar knot within her coil, her body twitching uncontrollably under Neteyams' ministrations. 
“Neteyam! S-something is-”
Neteyam smirks, his cock painfully pressing against his own loincloth at her squeals of ecstasy. He unconsciously bucks himself against the mat for some friction, his mouth continuously working over her bud. 
“It’s ok love, let it wash over you” Neteyam assures, fondling her breasts and increasing in speed. 
Y/n arches her back a loud whine leaving her lips as her body convulses under the weight of her first orgasm. She didn't know orgasms felt this great, her eyes fluttering at the feeling. Neteyam smirks at himself, proud to pull an orgasm out of he without out even touching her properly. Neteyanm detaches his lips, filled with his own drool with a popping sound. 
Neteyam hastily traces kisses down her chest and down to her abdomen. He glances up at Y/n for permission, tugging at the loincloth. Y/n moans in response causing Neteyam to smile at how she melted under his touch. 
Neteyam’s hands were soft as they slid up her thighs, tugging at the garment. Y/n lifted her hips slightly to assist him as he slowly tugged them off- savoring the moment as much as she was. Neteyam stares at the soaked loincloth, his eyes hungrily tracing over the wet patch, he brings the scrunched up loincloth to his nose inhaling deeply. He curses under his breath tossing the cloth aside, eager to find the source of the intoxicating scent. 
Y/n spreads her legs, not feeling the strength in herself to keep them wrapped around his hips. Neteyam hums in appreciation as his hands slide up her thighs reassuringly. He stares at her sopping pussy that glistened with her essence. It looked heavenly and delectable. 
Neteyam leans down his eyes staring into the sight before him as if it were  the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Like he was mesmerized, like he was hungry and only Y/n could satisfy him. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh nervously as he took her in, in all her glory. 
“S’beautiful. So, so so pretty, such a pretty girl.” he babbled, raising her legs to rest over his shoulders as he peppered kisses into her inner thigh. 
His cock twitched against his loincloth when he laid his eyes on her bare pussy. He gawked in awe at the pretty pink folds swollen and glistening with her arousal, he was almost drooling when he snapped himself out of his trance once again. 
“I’ve been wondering how you taste down here, love” he spoke before grabbing her thighs, pulling her further to his mouth. 
Y/n whimpers at the feeling of his breath against her bare pussy. Y/n opens her mouth to argue against the fact he was so close to her cunt. But her mouth immediately clamps shut as Neteyam attached his warm muscle against her. 
The first lick was experimental, a quick swipe of his tongue across her folds, separating them which  made her whimper. His ears twitch with excitement at the sound.  His eyes fluttered shut as he explored Y/n, flicking and suckling as his confidence built from her reactions. 
“Fuck, you smelled so good.Taste even better, though.” Neteyam gasps in between licks, pressing his face deeping to her cunt. 
His tongue plunges deep inside Y/n, his nose coming in contact with her throbbing clit. Y/n’s entire body jolts at the sensation, his tongue working miracles inside her. Y/n hands fell on his black locks, pulling occasionally. She felt that familiar coil and she didn't want Neteyam to let go. He moaned into Y/n as he felt her nails rake across his scalp. The vibrations caused Y/n to gasp and buck her hips into him chasing her high.
“That's it, come undone for me princess” 
Y/n moans out, her fingers tightening as her orgasm washes over her once again. Her legs stutter against Neteyam’s shoulders as he licks her through her second orgasm. He lap up her juices like a starved man. Unable to get enough. 
Neteyam pulls back, his entire  mouth and chin covered in her cum. He sheepishly smiles, his eyes lidded as he watches the last bit of her orgasm twitch through her. Y/n mumbles incoherently at the feeling. 
Netyeam quickly discards his loincloth, releasing his cock that begged to be free. He sighs at the feeling of the cool air, his hand reaching down to spread his pre cum over his large shaft. He pumped a few strokes along his length,  waiting for Y/n to regain proper consciousness. Neteyam leans down, his finger swiping against her wet folds. Y/n gasps at the sensation, eyes snapping open at the feeling. 
He pressed his thumb against her clit just as his long finger entered inside her warm pussy. He focused on the spot that had caused Y/n  to make noise and rubbed small fast circles against her clit, all while making sure to thrust his finger deep inside. Stretching her walls. 
“S-hit Neteyam!” Y/n squeals as his finger grazes her sweet spot. Her toes curl at the sensation, her eyes closing shut at the feeling. 
Neteyam takes the opportunity to insert another finger, scissoring her in the process. Her juices made it easy to insert the two digits with ease. The pleasure overrides the stinging sensation with the second intrusion. Neteyam bent down  to replace his thumb with his lips and sucked hard along her clit. All while gathering her wetness before plunging the digits back inside. 
His tongue lapped at Y/n’s  clit as he carried on working his fingers inside of her. Her back arched off the mat as she felt the heat of her impending orgasm build faster and faster. Neteyam could tell she was getting close, the way she was grinding herself against his face had him thrusting his own hips against his mat. 
Y/n cried out as her hips writhed against his face, Neteyam tightened the grip he had on one of her thighs to hold her down. He didn’t relax his strokes until she was a trembling, mewling mess, weakly pulling at his hair as she became overstimulated. 
He kept on sucking her swollen clit, a finger sliding inside her all the up to the last knuckle. Y/n shakes her head at the unfamiliar feeling. 
“Netey-am, Sto-“  she mewls pathetically, unable to catch her breath 
“-Feels like I’m gonna pee-” Y/n gasped when a new wave of pleasure washed over her. 
She tried to push Neteyam off of her but he held her down, tongue fucking her through her orgasm. Y/n’s walls burst, squirting all over her mate's face.
Neteyam’s eyes widened as he immediately pressed his tongue flat against her entrance, collecting all her sweet juices, slurping her dry.
 
 “Fuck, Oh my Ewya, that was hot” he pulled away panting, his chin shiny with her slick. 
“Mmmm, you did so good my love.-” he kissed her inner thigh before climbing back up to her. His eyes were completely blown wide with lust. 
“You taste so fucking good”
Neteyam retracts his fingers. The loss of the fingers causes Y/n to whine, her hips bucking into the air for the feeling of fullness again. Neteyam chuckles, licking his lips. He groans at the delicious taste, lapping up what was left on his lips. He leans down, capturing Y/n’s unsuspecting lips as they mold their tongues together. Y/n tastes herself against him, her eyes shutting at the feeling. Neteyam’s cock lays against her, his angry red tip twitching for attention. 
“Are you ready? Are you sure, my love?” Neteyam asks, pulling away to stare into her eyes. 
He was at the edge as it was . He almost came untouched when she had squirted on him. He desperately wished to be inside her. Fucking her like there was no tomorrow. She was stretched, but Neteyam was big. Big and girthy. He knew it would hurt, with her being a virgin. 
“M’Please.” was Y/n’s  only confirmation, Y/n tries to reach for his throbbing cock that she felt against her heat. She felt how he humped against her slick folds, lubing himself up. Neteyam takes her hand, kissing her knuckles. He takes her pleas as the answer he needed. Neteyam reaches back, taking hold of Y/n’s kuru. 
Even in her dazed like state she is able to toss him a look of confusion. 
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Neteyam smiles softly, reaching back for his kuru as well. 
“It’s going to hurt my love. And I do not wish for you to feel the pain alone” he says softly, smiling endearingly as he brings the two braids together. Y/N goes to the object but it falls to deaf ears as they tendrils interlock. Y/n’s eyes immediately roll back at the feeling of becoming one with Neteyam. 
She felt his lust and his deep his desire to fuck her. She also felt his love and worry for her. He cared so much for her he held himself back, focusing on her pleasure instead of his. Y/n felt eyes prick with tears, unable to control the overwhelming feeling of pure love transfer from her mate into her.  
“Neteyam, I-I see you” she murmurs, pressing her forehead against his. Neteyam smiles, his eyes closing at the feeling. He took in deep breaths memorizing how she felt,how  her body felt so light against his, so soft against his toned hard body. 
“Please…please fuck me Neteyam” Y/n urges, bucking her hips along his cock. Neteyam hisses at the sudden feeling, placing their connected kuru’s to the side. He reaches down and aligns his cock against her tight hole. They felt electricity surge through both of them in excitement.
Neteyam glances at Y/n one more time as she nods as a form of consent. Neteyam entered Y/n  slowly. She gasps loudly, muscles tightening as she claws at his biceps. It was an unfamiliar feeling, intrusive as he moaned softly.
He felt her walls clench against him eagerly. He also felt the pain., the sharp and stinging pain as he slowly pushed himself deeper within her walls. 
“Shhhh, M’sorry yawne. J-just relax princess.” he praised as she exhaled, wincing slightly at his size as he stretched her out. He glances down, his eyes widening at the sight of blood. It was very little but noticeable against her beautiful slick blue skin. 
“Fuck, Y/n. You're bleeding. Do you wanna stop?” he asks, concerned. Y/n quickly  shakes her head. She knew this would happen, as she was prepared for it.
 “No, no I’m okay. Just feels weird is all.” She whispered reassuringly, moaning slightly as he filled her even more, a prominent bulge appearing to form on her lower stomach. 
“You’re doing so well for me sweetheart, so so well..” he cooed, making the fire in her belly flame that much higher. Neteyam stayed inside Y/n, unwilling to move for a few minutes until he knew she was comfortable. Y/n nails began to declaw from his arm, little crescent moons doting his muscles as her breath filled her lungs easier. Neteyam felt the familiar feeling of pleasure erupt with his mate, the pain subsiding. 
“Can I move?” he hums, Y/n  nodded eagerly,  the feeling of pain morphing into that  of pleasure as he shifted. 
“Oh fuck-” he moaned, his forehead brushing against Y/n as he rocked his hips, causing her back to arch, chest brushing his. 
“You’re so wet princess-so tight-” he gasped as he filled Y/n up to the hilt again, finding a gentle, easy rhythm that sent her to the heavens. 
Y/n was mindlessly babbling, no words coming out of her mouth coherent as her eyes rolled back. She felt his entire length thrust into his, the curve of his cock brushing across places that made her see stars. 
“I- love-you-Ma-Teyeammm.” Y/n moaned with each thrust, her body jolting along Neteyam’s movements. Y/n felt herself reach her orgasm, her toes curling in delight. The mushroomy tip abusing her g-spot oh so deliciously. It was as if his cock was made to fit perfectly in her cunt.
Neteyam feels her clench along his cock, hearing her thoughts and how she was so  close to coming undone once again. 
 “I love you so, so much, let go yawne. Come for me.,” he whispered. 
Y/n’s body following his commands as she felt the coil break, release washing over her as she clamped down on his cock. Y/n squirted shamelessly onto her mate, his abdomen was glistening with her pussy juices. Neteyam made sure to fuck her through her high, even as she tightly gripped down on his cock.
The room was filled with the sound of her pussy squelching and her skin slapping against his. His heavy balls slapping against her ass, aiding to the thrusts each time. 
Y/n stared into his eyes, they were filled with so much passion and lust. Y/n’s heart fluttered, his stare was gentle yet his thrusts were rough. It didn’t take long for his carnal desires to take over. Y/n gripped the mat as he fucked her sopping cunt at a fast pace. His pelvis slamming against her, the sound of squelching filling as room his cock would occasionally brush up against her cervix, making her weaken. 
Neteyam bites his lips in pure euphoria. He  enjoyed seeing the bulge in her tummy, motivating him to go in deeper. 
 “O-Oh Eywa-” Y/n panted. 
“Good girl. Good, good girl.” Neteyam coaxed her, riding her through your orgasm. Now on a mission to reach his own.
Y/n sensed his breath hitch, his noises getting louder with each shift of the mat- and she knew he was getting close. 
“Inside. Please.” Y/n whines, wanting to feel full to the brim.
“Oh Ewya, Oh Y/n!!” he panted, her words turning him on even more than he thought was possible. His grip tightened around her wrists as he came inside her with a growl of Y/n’s  name, possessiveness seeping out of him.
 
“I love you, I love you yawne, my mate”  Neteyam mumbles, digging his face deep into the crevice of her neck. Y/n closes her eyes, feeling his cum sputter inside of her. Filling her full. It felt warm, relaxing her body. Neteyam hum in happiness, peppering kisses along her neck. 
“Are you ok yawne?” Neteyam asks, pulling back to stare at her. Y/n seemed to glow under the lightning inside the tent. Her eyes lidded but wide open. They seemed to glitter, he couldn't believe all this. Belonged to him, and him only. 
“Yes, I’m fine my love” she cooes, her fingers tracing along his cheek. She pecks his lips causing him to chuckle at his mate's adorable behavior. 
He carefully pulls out his softening cock, Y/n letting out a whine at the feeling of emptiness. Neteyam reached for a cloth nearby, cleaning up the cum from her pussy. 
“Thank you, for sharing your first with me” Neteyam mumbles, his eyes still trained on Y/n. His fingers worked carefully to clean her to the best of his ability. Their Kuru’s still connected only proved how happy she felt, how fulfilled she felt. He also felt her body feel tired, which is why he tried cleaning her up as fast as possible. 
“And thank you Neteyam. You made me feel things I’ve never felt before….I love you” Y/n says, cups his cheeks and pulls him in for a kiss. Neteyam greedily accepts, sucking on her swollen lips. 
Neteyam’s ears twitch suddenly, hearing the sound of footsteps. It sounded rushed and seemed to disappear the longer he focused on it. 
Gently pulling away he glances at the opening of the tent, noting no movement from out there. He felt his body go stiff wondering if someone was out there. And who it might have been? 
“What is it?” Y/n asks, also glancing at the entrance. Neteyam shrugs it off, pulling Y/n into a more comfortable position. He held her close to him, tightly within his protective arms. He nuzzled her neck inhaling her scent that was mixed with his. A deep carnal desire lights up realizing she smelt like him. Because she was his. 
“Nothing, let’s get some rest yawne.” 
~~~~~
“Y/n, please. I don’t want you to overwhelm yourself” Neteyam says yet again, trying to stop Y/n from walking towards the training ground. 
Y/n had insisted on accompanying Neteyam during his training session today. Even though her entire body was  aching in protest she argued against him walking towards the clearing. Y/n even prepared a basket full of fruit, which Neteyam was holding while following after his mate in a worry. He could see the way she walked, a tiny limp along her steps. Only proving that even though Neteyam tried being as careful as possible, it still affected her body greatly. 
“I’m fine! You mustn’t treat me like I’m delicate. I proved it last night” Y/n teases playfully, throwing a wink his way. Neteyam chuckles while shaking his head at his stubborn mate. He grabs her hands into his and walks closer to the grounds.
Y/n hasn't even told him the true reason why she desperately wanted to attend the lesson. The morning she was surprised by the markings Neteyam left all over her neck, the crescent shaped marks along her hip. Normally such a display would embarrass the young Na’vi. But Y/n wanted a particular someone to see them. She wore them with pride. 
Just as they walk into the clearing Neteyam and Y/n immediately greet the warriors. They all bow respectfully towards Y/n while Neteyam lets go of her, turning to her one last time. 
“After the session today let’s go for an Ikran ride? Some time alone for the  both of us?” Neteyam asks, his tail swishing excitedly behind him. Y/n hums in response. 
“Stay under the shade and sit down alright? You may not be delicate, but you're precious to me. Alright?” Neteyam says, his eyes finding the perfectly shaded area beside the tree. Y/n holds back the urge to roll her eyes but nods nonetheless. After pecking him quickly she quickly makes her way to the tree sitting down. Y/n’s eyes find Ma’via, who stared at Neteyam but with something else written on her face. She also caught the way she kept glancing at Y/n, which was not normal. 
“Still mad at Ma’via? I thought I fixed this already” Kiri pipes up, soundlessly taking a seat beside the girl. Y/n smirks, turning to her friend. She dramatically swipes her hair to the side calling attention to the marks Neteyam so graciously left all over her neck. Kiri’s eyes nearly burgle out of her head. 
“Y/n!!! Don’t show me!!!” She squeals in minor disgust at the thought. Y/n giggles at her reaction. 
~~~~~
The training had ended with Neteyam addressing the warriors. His smile seems to light up his entire face, the smirks on some of the male warriors not going unnoticed by Y/n. She did leave some scratch marks on Neteyam that were quite visible, but not enough compared to what he left on her. 
Y/n’s nose twitches as she watches the warriors depart their respective paths, with Ma’via lingering behind. She seemed distant from Neteyam through the entire session, Yn had observed. But that didn't stop her from lingering around, throwing glances at him from time to time. 
Y/n gets up, Kiri had long gone after she had gotten bored of watching sweaty Na’vi working hard. Y/n makes her way towards her mate, her hips swaying with each step. Ma’via is the first to notice her, her tail going stiff as she watches her. Her visible frown seems to deepen. 
Neteyam turns round, his smile growing upon seeing his mate walk up to him. He opens his arms expecting a hug but his mate had other things in mind. 
Once she is close enough, Y/n reaches up, pulling Neteyam in for a heated kiss. Her tongue immediately found his as she sucked along his tongue. Neteyam’s eyes widen but he melts into the kiss, pulling her against him. They heard the sounds of the excited warriors that were still in the groups, but all Y/n could focus on was the scoff that came from Ma’via’s direction.
Y/n pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting them. Neteyam’s grip on her hips did not relent as he gazed at her lips, his lips following after hers. Y/n glances at Ma’via, her smirk prominent. She tilts her head, her neck on full display. Ma’via bares her teeth as she notices the markings that Y/n showed off. Throwing her arrows in anger, she stomps her way out of the grounds. 
“What was that for?” Neteyam questions, his tone playful. He follows Y/n’s eyesight to see Ma’via stomping away, her tail swishing behind her angrily. Neteyam smirks, his eyes tracing over the look that danced across Y/n’s face. That of possessiveness. It sent an excited shiver down his spine. 
“Oh, Nothing. Just showing off what's mine” Y/n says casually, her hand reaching up to traces over the marks left by Neteyam. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushing at what she had shown off. He felt pride swell within him.
“If you want I could give you more?” He suggests, leaning closer as his breath fans across her face.
“How about I give you some? So a certain someone will know to keep their hands off of what’s mine?” 
A deep growl emits from Neteyam’s chest at the thought of Y/n marking him. Marking his skin which would be visible to those around him, showing who he belonged to. 
“Oh fuck baby, you don’t have to tell me twice” he growls, pulling her hard against his chest. 
______________________________________________
A/N: I'm so sorry its long! I'm trying hard to condense my writing because I feel like if its too long no one will want to read it. But I hope you enjoyed it!! Again, please keep in mind smut is still new to me, so my writing may suck! I'm sorry for that, but thank you for reading and all your support!!
Precious Tsyeym TagList
@farleyis  @aliseaaah  @mahalkomarvel  @baebinana   @cheyehc   @beautifulglitterwombat
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chronically-ghosted · 8 months
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you call and I come running
rating: E for Explicit! 18+
pairing: javier peña x f!reader
word count: 8K
summary: a drunken confession leaves you and Javi on unsure ground. When an on the run narco douses you in an unknown, off-market drug, Javier has to save you by doing the one thing that may truly well and good fuck him over.
warnings: sex pollen, dub con due to sex pollen, minimal plot scaffolding to hold up a gratuitous amount of porn, minimally edited, feral!javi is best javi, the barest hint of breeding kink, not really butt stuff more like butt touching, light angst, no use of y/n, spanking
a/n: comes from @perotovar 's ask for my 100 follower milestone event: hi there! congrats on your milestone!! i saw your prompt list and saw "I’m so sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit." and "A whispered, “Fuck, can we do that again?” against the other’s lips." and thought it would be a really good combination for either javi p or max p? which ever one you feel fits better! 😊 (as for smut, only include it if you think it works!)
🤍Masterlist 🤍AO3 Link 
Bogota was begging for rain. At the end of summer, the city and its people had been suffering months of stifling, thick, humid air without a drop of relief. Sweat clung to exposed skin, dampening shirts and tightening waistbands. Heat weighed like a physical presence in the air while open windows and doors sought to tempt in some non-existent breeze, hoping to coax some pity out of the militant heatwave. But the heat and the moisture-thick air stayed, hovering like a cloud of mosquitoes, just as merciless and just as blood-thirsty. 
Night offered no consolation either. Stagnant and cloistered, the sun-bleached air greeted its visitors with a great, warm lick – like the wide tongue of a particularly aggressive bloodhound. The ongoing joke among the locals blamed the blackouts on all the fans, spinning throughout all hours of the day and night, instead of el gobierno barato. Only then came the sigh of ease, in front of whirling blades with ice water behind them. Flapping shirts and mopped brows. Only then, was there relief to the tension. 
Unfortunately, a running car would tip off any narcos in the area, so even that small miracle is denied to the two agents sitting in the darkness of la calle. A crack in the glass window releases a tendril of smoke, not enough to expect a breeze, not enough to wipe away the smear of sweat from across forearms and under knees. 
A drunken confession lingers even thicker in the air.
You thought you could do this. You really thought nothing would change – it was an accident after all. He didn’t mean it – he couldn’t – he was just teasing you, when he leaned over the sticky fourtop in the back of the bar at three in the morning, his breath tangy with the ghost of four glasses of whiskey, his body heat immense and overwhelming as he pressed into you and said – 
Whatever he said, you told him no.
Actually, you laughed and then said no. No, because he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t, he was just teasing you and he would never, ever, ever, ever know how much you actually wanted it and even if – even if you both wanted it, it could never, ever, ever, ever happen. 
It couldn’t. It was so absurd for him to even consider it, you laughed.
And then he never looked at you the same way.
You had done something irreversible. He had said the words, but you had done something irreversible to him. 
Something in the air had changed, maybe forever. And that, that you might have lost your partner, your friend, potential potential potential disappearing in a cloud of Marlboro smoke over bottles of cerveza, that was the worst part. 
He doesn’t look at you the same way.
Or at all. 
He smokes and he watches and he acts like you’re not in the seat next to him. Like his confession hasn’t cleaved him apart.
Nothing’s moved in hours. Neither the target or the shadows in the car. The tension presses up against the windows, hot and stifling. There is no relief.
“I didn’t want it like this, you know,” you say to the sun visor, arms crossed, low in your seat. “I . . . tried to see if Murphy would switch, but I didn’t think the tip would pan out so fast, and I didn’t . . . I didn’t want . . .”
The shadow next to you emerges with his face as he brings the glowing orange light of the cigarette to his mouth. Full lips, short thick hair below his nose, a jawline sharper than any hit of cocaine. 
“What did you expect?” he asks, his voice thick and heavy like oil. It clings to you.
You scowl into the darkness beyond your window. “For Murphy to me a fucking solid, for once. Covered his ass more than once after they adopted Olivia. I just wanted one goddamn –,”
He forcefully flicks the stub of his cigarette out the window as a precursor to punctuate his next sentence. “No. What did you want, if you didn’t want it like this?” 
The acidity in his tone stings you and you unintentionally flinch as if he had pressed the cigarette nub into your skin. 
“Javier, c’mon, that’s not fair.” 
He arches one eyebrow, his teeth clenched in his jaw, hollowing out a pocket of skin below his temple. The overhanging orange streetlights sap the color from his skin.
“So you get to make all the rules now. Got it.” He crunches up the empty box of cigarettes and chucks it in the back seat. You watch him with narrowed eyes as he settles back against the seat with his arms crossed. 
“Why do you have to make this difficult?” You snap. “You know this isn’t easy for me either.” 
“But it is easier than the alternative, right?” After two hours of ice cold silence, he finally looks at you and you can feel the spike of frost in your chest. The twitch in his jaw is the rage in his eyes taking physical form. “Easier than . . . trying. Right?” 
He looks away, already having confessed too much with whisky on his breath, and he can’t afford another slip-up. He knows this. You know this. You want to reach out and touch him but you worry he might physically slap you away if you do. You’ve hurt him in places Javier Peña doesn’t like to admit he has. 
“It’s not that simple,” you say to his thigh. “And you know it.” 
His jaw twitches again. “I’m not asking for your goddamn hand in marriage. I’m just — sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit. I want –,”
“No.” You say and you can feel the word imprint under your sternum. “There’s too much at risk. We’ve been in this fight for too long to get benched and if Noonan even gets a whiff of anything out of whack with her agents, she’ll . . . I want to, Javi, can’t you see that? I really want to – in case I didn’t make that crystal fucking clear. I want to, but there’s no trying for people like us. In a place like this.” The firm weight in your voice pushes on something that makes him look at you again. That rage has dissipated, melted, leaving only a corporeal ache. His brown eyes were endless in their confusion, their disappointment, their hurt. Please, he begs without words. You swallow, your thumbnail digging into your palm to keep yourself from launching yourself across the bench seat of his truck and into his lap. “I want to, Javi. I want . . . you.” 
He drops your gaze as if it burned him. He shifts back, hand coming up to cover his mouth, the side of his knuckle rubbing his upper lip as if coaxing whatever was sitting just behind his teeth back down his throat. 
Javier stares out into the oppressive Bogota night, his clavicle dewy with sweat and he shakes his head.
“Save it.”
You actually flinch. God, you knew it was going to hurt but you never thought it would hurt this much. Hurts so much it claws up your chest with cut-metal knives until you can’t breathe. Until you can’t see as tears flood your eyes.
“Javi, please.” Your voice is calm, despite the small implosion in your chest. “Don’t–,”
“No, I mean – look.” He points out across the dashboard.
The door that has been shut tight for the past three hours has opened. El Corto, a man who lives up to his name, pokes his round face around the edge of the door, glancing up and down the street with the paranoia of someone who trafficks drugs for a living. You turn your head into your shoulder to act like you are adjusting the firearm on your hip to wipe your eyes. Beside you, Javier turns the safety of his handgun and slips it into the back of his jeans.
“You good?” He sounds like Javier, your friend, and that swell of confidence gives you the strength to kick down a door into a whole nest of narcos. You meet his eyes and nod. 
The air is no cooler out in the open when you slip out of Javier’s truck into the dark night of Bogota. Javier strides across the black street, eyes just as fast as El Corto, paranoia just as high. There’s never any telling if the narcos are alone and that’s why you hang back just a bit, eyes on Javier and a dozen other places. 
“El Corto,” Javier snaps, sharp and demanding. The voice of authority. The narco freezes, narrow shoulders going taught. You keep eyes on his hands, your own hovering over your weapon in case he chooses to go for his. “Ven aquí. Tenemos algunas–,”
Without warning, El Corto takes off running, darting off down an alleyway. 
“Fuck,” Javier hisses and pulls his shirt out of his pants, experience the cruelest teacher. But you’ve already passed him –  running your favorite way to unwind, train, and way to avoid your problems, tearing down the alleyway after the shadow sprinting into the night. 
There is something singular about running that is more addicting than any drug the narcos peddled. A chosen target. A finite end. The only thing you had to count on, the only thing to worry about, is how hard you had to pump your arms, the length of your stride, the control of your breathing. Hunting down narcos was a breeding ground for chaos. But not this. This made sense. 
El Corto, despite having about half your stride, makes up for his short stature with speed. You catch only a glimpse of his jacket, then his shoe. A mile through an empty street and he finally comes into view. You’re gaining on him. The unrestrained creature in your chest roars and blocks out the searing pain in your calves, under your ribs. God, you swear you can almost smell him.
Maybe all animals, big or small, can sense the moment before the trap ensnares around them because without warning, El Corto darts left, leaping over a wrought iron fence into the lower levels of an apartment building. He’s gone before you can blink.
Snarling, you squeeze the fence railing as you tuck your legs over it, the momentum of your run clearing you from the tips. 
A voice in your head and possibly behind you is yelling at you to wait, don’t go inside without backup, but you can’t stop. You can’t help it. If you can’t have who you want, this is what you want. This is what you need.
And you need a fucking win. 
You burst through the screen door to an empty concrete room – torn carpet, wall paint chipped away, maybe an old living room – a flash of jeans around the hallway at the end giving a fraction of an indication of your target. So you take off after him, rounding the corner. You watch as he nearly runs through a faded yellow door, the wood cracking and splintering from the force as it slams open into the wall. The door ricochets off the wall, nearly slamming close again, just as you reach it, but the brunt of your shoulder knocks it back again.
And something cracks you across the chest. 
Powder. Blue. Lots of it.
You stumble, your eyes and nostrils burning, as it seizes in your lungs. You cough and hack, trying desperately to unseal it from your lungs, but it barely budges, barely slides loose. Blind and gasping from the heat of your run and through the powder, you veer off course, stumbling into what feels like boxes. Your knees tremble, suddenly unsteady on your feet. 
Through your watery eyes, you watch as El Corto drops the plastic bag that used to contain the powder, a malicious glint in his eyes.
“Puta,” he spits, the slur hardly original for a female DEA agent. He steps back and sheds the gloves you didn’t realize he had been wearing, still watching you with twisted interest. 
You’re no longer coughing, but the air still hasn’t settled in your body. You feel the heat in your lungs rise, expand, then fall, against your skin, as if it is in sync with your heartbeat. With every breath, a sour, sticky warmth presses against every joint in your body, every bone. There’s a knot building at the base of your spine, tightening your hips, and you stumble until you’re seated on one of the boxes, which you now see as packing crates. 
You swallow but your mouth is dry. Head heavy. Distant. Your eyes feel swollen in your skull.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” you whisper. 
He’s not scowling at you, you realize, he’s leering. Eager. Excited. He takes a step towards you. 
A floor above, you hear the sound of the door being breached and Javier calling out your name. El Corto scowls, as though his favorite toy had been taken away, before he tears himself away to the narrow window on the other side of the room. More shipping crates have been stacked against the wall and El Corto scurries up it, unlatching the window. He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder at you.
“Diviértete para mí, putita,” he waves with three fingers as Javier crashes into the room, his gun raised. He spots El Corto just as he slips up through the narrow window – the space no bigger than the width of a child – his foot kicking down the tower of boxes. Javier nearly nabs his ankle, leaping up the concrete wall, as the narco disappears into the night.
His open palm striking against the humid wall is a wet slap. “Fuck,” he snarls, this time pounding with the heel of his fist, “we almost fucking had him. What the fuck ha–,”
He turns and meets your gaze for the first time. His mouth drops in horror.
Sweat blooming across your forehead, you lean over on a crate, limbs trembling, breathing uneven. Every scrap of fabric over your skin burns, your thighs burn, your blood burns, you are burning. The sweat peaks in droplets that run down the back of your neck, under your armpits. Whatever he hit you with makes you want to take off every inch of your clothes –maybe then you could fucking breathe – but even then, it wouldn’t be enough. 
He’s got you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him, before you realize what’s happened.
“Talk to me.” Javier snaps, that authoritative force sharp and demanding, and it sends an aching bolt between your legs. You whimper in pain, your eyes fluttering. He shakes you. “Stay awake and tell me what happened. I need you to focus. ”
Your lips feel puffy, overripe and ready to split, your jaw tight and throbbing. “H-h-hit m-me with blu-ue – don’t–don’t know what i-it is.” 
Javier steps closer and the scent of his cologne hits you like a train. Groaning, a strange, unwelcome instinct yanks your head down into the curve of his neck, the source of the smell. The touch of his skin beneath your lips is a balm – cool egg yolk over a fresh burn – and you bury your face in deep.
“Oh, fucking Christ, Javi.” Your voice trembles, wavering down into a low moan. That same alien instinct latches your hands over his shoulder, nails digging into the cotton. But it’s not alien, you realize through the muggy, humid fog in your mind – you know this feeling. You are intimately aware of the coiling knot between your legs, your soaked underwear, the tightness of your nipples. But this can’t be happening. It shouldn’t. It shouldn’t hurt like this. 
You gasp, in real pain, a throb that starts clenching your cunt before rippling up your spine and locking your shoulders. You hunch against him, waiting for the contraction to pass. 
“What is it?” Javi holds you, panic evident in his voice. You swear you can hear his heartbeat in his neck. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, goddamn it.” He demands with no bite in his command. 
He peels you off him, you hiss, ripped out of the soothing embrace of his arms, and he makes you look at him. His eyes are wide, mouth twitching. The entirety of his chest is blue, most of powder from your skin covering his shirt.
He cups your cheeks, trying to see if the powder has left an acid burn, as another wave hits and you lock your body, now a battleground against the strangling desire to turn your face into his wide palm and inhale. There’s liquid making the crotch of your pants sticky and it’s embarrassing. It’s mortifying and silly and the ounce of sanity still left in your head keeps an iron grip on every muscle in your body – sanity telling you to not fucking do this. Don’t do this to him. Not when it would mean so much to him.
To you. 
But fuck, you want it. You need it. You might actually die without it.
Tears spring into your eyes, making a gooey muck as they slide down your cheeks and mix with the powder. Whatever this is, you have to fight it.
His eyes dart to your tears, the little bit of powder still on your face, and without thinking, he brushes your tears away with his thumbs.
Sanity cracks the whip – if it gets on him, then –
With the last ounce of strength, you shove him back, as far away from you as you possibly can. The second his warmth is gone from your skin, you tremble and your knees give out. Fresh tears, spurred on by the pain, by the fear, by the shame, spill from your eyes and you curl up against the wall. 
“D-don’t, Javi, don’t. I th-think it’s t-t-transderm-mal–,”
“What do you–,”
You watch helplessly as his pupils contract and then expand wildly, black swallowing that aching brown. He shakes his head like a bewildered animal, sweat already bleeding across his skin, and he stumbles back onto a springy metal cot on the opposite wall. He blinks, hand tightening around his knee. It makes his forearm flex and you have to physically close your eyes, the sight forcing your cunt to clench down on nothing. 
“What . . . what the fuck is this shit?”
You bite your lip, your chin tucked to your shoulder as your body cramps, punishing you for denying it the only source of relief. You squint at him and see he’s half-hard in his jeans. You whimper.
“I-I don’t know . . . new– new party drug?” You grunt, your head thrown back against the wall. God, your skin is going to melt right off your bones.
“This is way fucking worse than ecstacy,” Javier murmurs, his jaw tight. “Fuck, got a bit on me, but you . . .”
He blinks at you, eyes glassy, with sudden and total understanding, with perfect clarity why you shoved him away, and what exactly you need. 
He murmurs your name and you gasp, another cramp yanking new tears down your cheeks. 
“J-Javier,” you swallow thickly, “I know what I s-said before, a-and in the car, but if you ever cared about me, p-please . . . please, just –,”
You can’t encompass all that you need into words, but you hope he understands, is feeling kind despite all that you had done to him. Your bones ache, skin too tight.
He shakes his head, but weakly, his eyes caught on your throat, the wetness clinging to your lips. “You’re just saying that because of the drugs. We have to call Murphy. Get us to a hospital or something.”
“Javi,” you whine and maybe it is the drugs, or maybe he has an inkling of how much it hurts, but he’s across the room in an instant. He grabs you by the shoulders and hauls you to your feet. He drops his head and inhales like he can draw the heat from your blood. The tip of his nose dragged across your jaw is a cube of ice against the furnace of your skin. You shudder, hands clasping around his shoulders, dragging him against you, his hands cupping your hips as if to steady him. 
“I-I’ll give you this.” Javier Peña doesn’t stutter. Your eyelids weigh a thousand pounds as you draw your gaze up to him. “I’ll help, cariño, and then we call Murphy. Okay?” 
You nod, dizzy and overheated and sick with wanting. You nod and tilt your hips forward into his fingers as they pop open the button of your jeans. The sound of the slide of the zipper drives a shiver through you and you feel his cock, fully hard, against your thigh. 
His lips brush your cheek, his voice slurred, dripping slow in molasses, sweet and dark. “I’ll help. I’ll give you what you need.”
The first press of his fingers against your pussy rubs slippery and wet. With a sigh of relief, you drop your head against the wall, hips shoving into his hand, begging for more.
“Fuck,” he wheezes. “You’re already soaking.”
“More, Javier, more.” 
He grinds his cock against your thigh to soothe his own ache. He nods slowly as if dazed, his eyes locked onto to where his hand disappears inside your jeans. “Y-yeah, okay.”
If any hesitation remains, it’s gone when he sinks two fingers inside of you and taps up. You moan and he shoves his knee between your legs. 
“You like that, pretty girl? Does that help?”
“Yes,” you gasp into his neck, his fingers rocking into you. “Yes, Javier, yes!” 
His touch douses the ache, the fire, across your skin, in your spine. With every snap of his wrist, he draws away the heat from your exposed, too-sensitive nerves, easing the lighting storm in your low stomach. The noises you’re making, the noises your cunt makes against his fingers – it should embarrass you, should draw red up into your cheeks and ears, but it’s just more release. You yowl like an animal in heat and Javier’s groin jerks against you. You gain enough sentience to realize he’s fucking you with his jeans on up the wall, his hand never slowing or easing. You can feel yourself gush between his knuckles. 
“You’re almost there, muñeca, I can feel it. Just give it to me. Come for me,” he pants into your clavicle, the spread of bone across your chest. You tighten at the thought of his breath against your nipples, his teeth on the soft weight of your breast –
And you do. You come with the easy brush of his thumb against your clit. White lightning soothes the rage beneath your skin and you shudder in his arms, forehead collapsing against his shoulder. The snap of his hips against your thigh is a bruising rhythm, harsh, feral, an understanding that only something rough and wild can actually save your life. 
“Is that better, querida?” His wide palm pushes the hair back from your damp neck, cradling your heated cheek. His thumb brushes just under your bottom lip. You can feel his own fever, radiating from his skin. “Can we get you somewhere safe?”
But you’re still too high, too taut, to answer him. Another one builds, stacks up on itself every time his rock-hard cock digs into your hip. He scissors his fingers and you bear down onto his thigh. 
“Fuck,” he mutters, but without exhaustion or anger. He sounds almost gleeful. When he looks at you, his pupils are blown wide, sweat making his skin glow. The skin around his mouth is damp. “Alright, I’m not gonna stop. You can have one more. One more, querida.” 
His shoulders tense, the muscles in his back shifting, as he changes the angle of his fingers, renews the pressure of his thumb on your clit. He brushes against something deep inside of you, wet and spongy and never before reached and you arch your back in response, air sucked from your lungs. His thigh nearly lifts you off the floor. 
“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it?” He taps the spot again and tears flood your eyes and spill down your cheeks. 
“Oh my god, Javi,” you murmur and he seems to like that. You clamp down around him and his hips stutter, his moan deep and coming from an ache in his chest. He inserts another finger and your cunt sucks him in, greedy for more. 
He eases back into his rhythm, raggedly humping your hip, the rough material of his jeans burning between your thighs. 
“You’re so close, aren’t you?” he breathes. “Fuck, I knew it would fucking feel this good. You’re clenching down on me so hard, baby.” 
On the tip of your next orgasm, the haze clears for just a second and you catch him in the eye. This isn’t just the drugs, you know, this isn’t just an excuse for both of you. This is hating to see the other one in pain. This is sharing a worry for a bit of yourself that lives in another body. What passes along the length of your gaze is the exact thing you feared losing. 
Selfishly, you’d rather not have him like this, than not having him at all. 
But this is what it could be, he tells you through an open, gasping mouth, through eyes that pin you to the wall, this is what we could have every day, every night. If you just let me in. 
If you just –
“Come for me.” 
You answer with his name, on a cry high and sharp, and you’re coming – harsh, fast, exploding as you drench him, his fingers pressing roughly into that one sweet spot. 
Javi slumps forward, the weight of him nearly stifling, as he gasps, his hips stilling, stuttering, stopping. His skin flushes cold for a second, sweat cooling his fever, his face buried in your neck. 
You feel it. Against your thigh. You swallow in surprise, the fog parting briefly again. 
“Javi, did you . . .”
He wrenches his hand out of you, releasing his grip on your hip as he lowers you down. 
“I’m not fucking calling Murphy,” he grits out.
*~*~*
Javier is a man of singular focus. Almost dogged and single-minded in his hunt, it’s rare he is even capable of listening to the voice of reason. It’s a different voice than his own that tells him when he’s doing something monumentally stupid. There’s a part of him that knows exactly why that voice sounds a lot like you, unconsciously knowing that you’re the only thing that could give him pause. And yet, there are times when he can shut the voice out, can shut out everything inside of him screaming at him not to do the thing he’s going to do. But this, this decision, genuinely has him torn. There is no right way to do this.
Well, there is a right way. One where he takes you to dinner, buys you flowers, walks you home, tucks your hair behind your ear, kisses you softly at first, then rough, until you beg him to come up the stairs. Despite what some may think, he is capable of being romantic. He can be sweet. He can ask nicely. 
But that is something he is not capable of right now. 
In his post-nut clarity – because, yes, he did come in his pants like a twelve year old with his first porn mag after having his fingers up your cunt for what was all too short – he realized the room you both were in was some sort of safehouse. 
A cot against the wall. A portable stove with something in the pan black and sticky. The crates are empty of any valuables – by the shape and length, most likely guns – but the few that are still full have a few bags of that elicit blue powder. He makes a mental note, somewhere on the very distant laundry list in his brain, to take a bag – with gloves on and wrapped up in several other baggies – to have it tested at the lab. Because whatever this stuff is, it might actually be more dangerous than cocaine.
Especially to idiots like him, he thinks roughly as he yanks the thread-bare mattress off its wiry frame onto the floor. He snatches up the cotton sleeping bag at the foot of the frame and unzips it, the inside facing down. This is such a monumentally stupid idea, he knows it is, but he can already feel that cramp building up his thighs, his cock throbbing awake, arousal clamping down on the base of his spine. And he just got a whiff of it. He can’t imagine what you’re feeling already. Behind him he hears you moan softly, never one to complain or whine when things get tough or hard, so he goes faster. He tucks up the other end of the sleeping bag in what he hopes is some semblance of comfort, but he wonders if that will even matter to either of you when it hits again which, judging by how hard his cock is growing, is eminent. The wet spot on his thigh, beneath his jeans, is sticky, uncomfortable. He needs no further reason to unbutton them. 
You moan, this time louder, higher, again and he turns to face you, his shirt already undone to his stomach.
You’re pale again, skin glossy and sickly wet. When your eyes flutter open, they’re glassy, gaze distant and unfocused. You twitch when that first cramp settles in deep. He thinks, his mind not entirely his own, about how deep the clutch of your cunt sucked in just his fingers and he shivers. He simultaneously wanted to get this over with and drag it out for days. Have you beneath him for days. 
Your legs tucked up beneath you from where he laid you down, Javi approaches quietly, kneeling as he takes off his shirt and goes to untie your boots. He touches your ankle as gently as he can and you shudder, cracking an eye open. 
“Javier, it’s coming back. It’s coming back and it hurts.”
In addition to the many, many agency violations, this is monumentally stupid because he’s obsessed with you. Has been for a while. Not just in a way that makes him want to fuck you for hours flat on your back, but in a way that your smile is the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep and the first thing on his mind when he wakes up. An obsession with your wellbeing, your safety, your happiness. A persistent coiling thought about your laugh, and strength, and the way you can make grown men twice your size tremble in fear. You’re a hunter, just like him, and with your beauty – your staggering, haunting beauty – how was he not supposed to immediately attach himself to you? It came on slowly, his pathological need to be near you, and once he realized what it was, there was no going back. No turning it off. 
He didn’t mean to tell you when he was drunk, but after bagging another narco, it was like he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. A brief glimpse into a world where you both were safe, and happy, and – god willing – together and in this world, he told you and he was brave about it and you said it back and he felt warm all over. But that was not this world, not his reality. In this one, he has to save you by doing the one thing that may truly well and good fuck him over. 
“Sit up, baby, that’s it.” He eases you into his arms and it’s like his touch drags you back into consciousness. Your fingers dig into his bare arms as you take in his exposed chest. 
“Javi, fuck, I don’t wanna beg, but before when you – you – I felt better. It cleared. I don’t know why or how, but with your fingers inside m-me, it . . . helped.” 
“I know, cariño, and I want to help more.” His thumbs press up under your jaw, tilting your head up to look him directly in the eyes. There’s fear there, pain, and it’s agonizing to him. “But I don’t know if that’s what you want.” 
“What I want? Javi, I–,” your eyes widen in understanding of what he’s offering, of what he’s scared to do. What he’s scared to take without your permission. 
You swallow, a pink flush crawling up your throat. “I . . . I don’t . . . I didn’t want our first time together to be anything like this, but . . .” You shake your head, shuffling closer to him, your breathing thinning as the drugs start to strike matches against your nerves. “I just don’t want you to think it doesn’t mean anything.” 
“It’s gonna mean everything to me, no matter how I get it.” He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your chin, just in front of his thumb. You nod, eyes squeezing shut, as you fight this arousal that claws into your skin like meat hooks. He pulls you to your feet, holding you steady as your knees try to lock up. He unbuttons your shirt with shaking hands. 
You touch his chest like you’ve never seen a man naked before. The hesitant, awed touch of you sends all the blood still remaining in his head straight into his cock. 
“I’m gonna fuck you now,” he murmurs to your cheek, your shirt off your body, his hands tugging your jeans down your hips. You nod again, speechless in your relief, and follow your jeans to the ground. Twisting on the nest he made for you, you slide your bra off, your nipples already tight and perk and waiting for his mouth. You huff, a sound so unlike you it makes him genuinely concerned, as the front of your panties darken again. 
“It’s okay, Javi, this is what I want. I want this.” You hate being vulnerable, he knows this, your attitude a front that leaves no room for sexist comments in the bullpen. And yet, here you are, deflowered and begging for him. You spread your legs for him, eyelids heavy, and he can smell the arousal on you. 
He drops to his knees, unsure where to start first, but the blue powder coursing through his veins demanding he puts his hands on your hips, which he finally acquiesce to. 
“I don’t think I can be gentle,” he admits quietly. He wants to nip, suck, slurp every inch of you, wants to see that perfect body bend to his will, to his turning. He wants to fuck you open and stuff himself up inside you so deep it leaves a mark. In his haze, the instinct to fuck supplies him with an image of you pregnant, bred and full of him, and his cock twitches so hard he drops onto all fours over you. 
You slip your underwear over your toes and your knees take him by the ribs.
“Please, Javi, please.” 
He knows it must hurt, must be so blindingly painful for you to beg like this. You never asked anyone for anything and that independence turned him on and frustrated him to no end. 
“Please, be rough,�� you ask him from under your lashes, your body writhing beneath him. His hips, on a separate system than the rest of him, thrust the rough teeth of his zipper against your cunt and you keen, the sound imprinting into every crevice and curve of his brain. “Make it hurt.”
Oh fuck, this might actually be the thing that kills him. 
He hushes you, stills your flushed whimpering with a kiss that ends in teeth against the high curve of your cheek. He noses to your mouth, then down to your ear, where he bites on your earlobe. He’s balancing on one hand as his other tugs his jeans down and off his hips. 
He wants to fuck your tits. Come all over them, have his spend flush up your throat, your chin. He wants to come so hard he blinds you with it. And then he wants to flip you over and fuck your ass with his come-lubed dick. 
You wriggle and whine, legs wrapping around his hips, tugging him down onto you when, half-a-mind away, he realizes he just said all of that outloud.
“Yes, Javi, you can have whatever you want. Fuck me however you want.” His blood is boiling now, the white-hot bomb settling itself in the base of his spine, his balls already tight. Why he’s dragging this out is beyond him and possibly a medical detriment to you. 
“Javi, just fucking put your cock ins–,”
He watches as every conscious thought wiped from your mind, brow heavy, mouth seared open as he plugs you full of him in one rough thrust. You shudder and his elbows buckle, his body locked up tight because if he moves, if he dares to rub his cock through your velvet, hot clutch, he’ll come right there. Your eyes roll back in your head as his cock makes space for itself inside you.
“Javi–,” he claps a wide palm over your mouth, his teeth straining in his jaw, his temple twitching.
“Baby, I know it hurts – I know it fucking does – but I need you to stay still.” It feels too good. You’re too hot, too slippery, and soft. He can feel the hum of words behind his fingers and he shakes his head. “Do not fucking move – I just need to – I have to –,” 
He inches in just a bit more and you both gasp to the ceiling when he bottoms out. Your rough curls against his pelvis sears him, hot and sweet like cinnamon. He drools when he thinks about eating his own come out of you.
You only get one word out, one word that sets his whole world on fire: “Please.” 
He rears back, yanks you up his thighs, hands cupping the backs of your knees and he plows into you. Your tiny fingers that have pulled countless triggers and clapped irons on criminals twitch, tightening into the smelly cotton fabric, your mouth contorted open. His pace, his thrusting, is relentless, unforgiving but the look on your face is pleased, an almost maniacal grin across your lips. 
“Oh, right there, Javi, just like that. Just like that.”
He’s faster than he is precise. Precise comes later when the bestial fog clears from his brain, when the lust bleeds out of his system, when he doesn’t want to hump you like an animal with his teeth bared and cock so deep inside of you it kisses your womb. 
Before his mind entirely succumbs to the mounting arousal, he’s grateful he had the foresight to take the mattress down. If he hadn’t, there’s a good chance he would have fuck you, the bed, and himself right through the paper-thin walls. 
And then he lets go. Lets this thing in his chest and hot behind his groin take over, lets himself indulge in whatever carnal, depraved thing sparks in his mind.
He’s fucking you so hard you’ll both have bruises by morning. 
He watches, transfixed, at the place where his soaked cock disappears through your puffy, wet lips into the mind-numbing heat of your pussy. He can’t stop watching. He barely feels your nails digging into his thighs. 
The walls of your pussy squeeze him and it makes him falter, hitch speed. His gaze is torn away and instantly, it focuses on the bounce and sway of your tits. Sweat droplets roll from your neck into the valley of your breasts and without hesitation he bends to catch them with his mouth, tugging you further down his cock. You cry out, hands digging into his hair, as his tongue drags a wet trail over the top of your breast, the tip flicking your rock hard nipple, then beneath the swell where he meets it with his teeth. 
You jerk, pleasure overwhelming. “Uh – oh – oh – fuck – Javi.” The words leave your mouth truncated, cut short by his rhythmic bouncing. He nuzzles your tit, streaking you with his own sweat, not able to stop fucking up into you to really get a good grip on your breast, but wanting to put the whole thing in his mouth. 
“I’m gonna do it right next time,” he swears fidelity to your skin. He grinds his teeth against your sternum. “Next time I fuck you I’m going to pull you apart bit by bit. Starting with these fucking tits and ending with my tongue up your cunt. Maybe your ass.”
Against his cheek, he feels your skin break out in ridges, your whole body shivering at his words. He leans up, grinning wildly and grinds particularly deep inside of you. You still haven’t fully opened your eyes.
“Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You want my tongue up your ass. What about my cock, huh? Want my fat fucking cock inside there?” 
You whine, clawing at his chest, as you nod frantically. He could ask anything of you right now and you’d give it to him. And god, he wants so much.
“It’d hurt, baby, you know it would.”
You nod, words tumbling out of your mouth in a mindless babble. “I don’t care. I want it there. I want you inside me. I want it to hurt. I want you to fuck me raw, Javi.”
He groans, more like a growl, rapidly picking up his pace. He lifts your knees higher and fucks up, the change in angle making you moan so loudly it fills up his ears with blood.
“Tell me where you want it. Say it, querida.” 
“I want it in my fucking ass, Javi.” 
His jaw twitching, that primal, unrestrained urge in him wrapping itself around his spine, he shoves you off him. Wetness dribbles down his lap but he doesn’t let himself smell or see it for long, as he flips you onto your hands and knees, sliding in and pummeling your pussy from behind.
You whine, singing for his cock, and collapse onto your elbows, presenting your ass for him. The pair of you really are just fucking animals.
He presses his thumb to your tight hole, the wet slap of his balls against your ass suddenly the least obscene thing in the room. There’s barely enough room for his thumb there and he tips his head back at the thought that no one had ever taken you there before. His. All his and no one fucking else’s. 
“Javi,” you sob, that preening need gone from your voice as though you are begging him not to go further, but desire kept you from voicing what you actually wanted. 
His bottom lip twitches and he leans down and gently bites your shoulder, grounding you and clearing out all fear. Drugs or not, he’d never do anything you didn’t explicitly ask for, but the second this is all over, he’s going to get on his hands and knees and beg you to let him work your ass open. 
“Not tonight, cariño.” He slides his thumb out of you, his wrist twisting as he palms the meat of your ass. “But I’m not leaving this completely untouched.”
He smacks the jiggling flesh until he sees a pink hand print, earning him a yelp from you every time his palm lands. He feels fresh, sticky wetness soak his cock with each slap, enough for it to dribble down his thigh. He’s not going to shower for a week. 
The higher he climbs, the faster that animalistic heat leaves his blood. You’re not as pale as before, the skin of your back growing a nice healthy flush. As his grip around your hips tightens, he feels your cunt clench around him. If he won’t take your ass tonight, he still wants you puffy and sore. He leans back just to watch his cock pound your pink, abused hole.
“I’m close, Javi,” you admit breathlessly. He nods, leaning forward again, that image of your pussy split open for him deliciously sealed in his mind, and he drags his nose down your spine. Sweat from his chest drops and splatters against your skin.
“I know you are, I can feel it. Can I see your face? Watch you? Can I put you on top?”
You nod and he slips out of you for what he hopes will be the last time in his fucking life. He’s no longer drug-crazed, but he is drunk. Pussy drunk. Drunk on you. Imbibed by the juices trailing down his thighs. He shifts and you swing a leg over his hips, immediately swallow him deep inside you. 
Unlike the courtesy he gave you, you give him no time to adjust, grip his chest, and ride him within an inch of his life.
Your tits swinging in his face, he presses his fingers so tight into your thighs, he’ll be able to count the distinct bruises, and plants his feet. He meets you, thrust for thrust, and he watches your competitive nature battle your overwhelming chase for release. 
“Just come, cariño,” he pants. “You’ve done so good tonight. Just fucking come all over my lap. Let go.” 
His words melt something inside of you and you whimper, curling down over him, which he takes to wrap his arms around your back, and roll you under him. He kisses your chin, your temple, the corner of your mouth. His big palm cradling your head, he grinds low and deep, seeking out that place he touched with his fingers. 
“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You can come.” He prods that spot once and it’s all over. You clamp down on his cock, milking him for all he’s worth because as you arch, mouth open, tears down your face, he comes too. He comes and he comes and he comes until he drips out of you and that breaks another orgasm across you, this one bumpy and leaves you shaking. 
He feels dizzy, unsure up from down, the loudest sound he hears is his own blood rushing in his ears. He’s never been more exhausted. 
He can hear the vibration of you saying something against his throat, but nothing is quite working like it’s supposed to, so he slumps off you, his hand never leaving your skin, as he tugs you against him.
He’ll be dried and sticky in only a few hours – you both will – but that doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that does is the feeling of your heartbeat over his. 
*~*~*
Morning, along with the scent of rain, glides in through the open window and your fingers twitch as sunlight hits you. Your eyes fluttering open, you lift your head from the sleeping bag to see wet puddles on the floor under the window, the concrete streaked and stained with water. It must have rained sometime last night and, shockingly, you didn’t hear a thing.
The heatwave had finally broken. 
It’s not until you’re full awake do you realize his hand rests in the cup of your neck, thumb rubbing smooth, soft circles into the hard knot near your shoulder blade. You smile, groaning softly, becoming more relaxed by how good it feels. 
You roll over and greet his eyes. They’re brown again, the hungry blackness gone, but leaving an edge of uncertainty in its wake. 
He wants to know how you feel about last night.
“You fucked up,” you tell him and that worried crease appears between his eyebrows. You inch closer, your hand curling up against his jaw. “All that time last night, all the time you had me under you, and you didn’t kiss me once.”
You close your eyes, drop your head, and press a fervent, determined kiss against his pink lips. You can feel it as he swallows it in, his body shifting forward, hand coming up to your hip. But just as quickly as it starts, he pulls away. 
Javier shakes his head. “I can’t,” he says almost mournfully, eyes downcast. “I don’t want to know – what you taste like, if . . . I can’t kiss you if this is the last time.”
He’s still respecting your boundary, your wishes, while coated in his release and yours. He knows he can’t be selfish with you again.
You wet your lip, hand still on his cheek. 
“Javier, you saved my life last night. That was some kind of fucked up drug, but if you hadn’t been here and did what you did, I think I would have had a heart attack.” He shakes his head, ashamed and desperate to prove you wrong. You understand his hesitation. It felt too good for it to be anything other than a transgression. “And if anything, it showed me something I think I already knew but couldn’t find in myself to admit. I need you, Javi. I need you because I can’t live without you. Because I love you.”
His eyes light up when you return the words he uttered in the bar. None of this is how it should have been – in an abandoned narcos hideout, but god, there’s not a single thing you’d change. 
“Yeah, baby? You mean that?” You nod as hot, natural desire flashes in his eyes as he pulls your body under him and captures your mouth in his. His warm palm cups your hip, your ribs, up under your arm, and pushes your elbow to your head. There’s more to say, more to worry about, but that fucking heatwave over Bogota has finally broken and Javier Peña’s cum is dried and flaky between your thighs. 
“We should call Murphy,” you giggle, withdrawing your tongue from his mouth. He shakes his head, the blunt edge of his teeth against your cheek. “There’s a deadly new drug on the streets. Lives are at stake.”
“My dick is at stake,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your skin, drawing your knee up to his ribs as he slots himself between your thighs. The smile slides off your face as he thumbs your raw clit in rough, desperate circles. 
“I thought you said you were going to take it slow next time,” you huff, hips rolling against his stiff cock. 
“I will. Gonna take you to dinner. Cup your ass over a distractingly short dress. Buy you flowers and fucking gold jewelry . . . then I’m going to take you home and open you up with my fingers, then my tongue.” 
“So what’s this?” You gasp against his neck as he sinks his cock into you. 
He groans, grunts, as if he hadn’t spent the better part of the night making your cunt his personal possession. 
“This is me, fucking you, before breakfast. Then we call Murphy. Any objections?” 
You squeeze your knees around him, ankles hooked across his low back, sucking a mark into his neck. 
“Not at all.” 
When you do go public, not shying away from holding hands in the office, or openly walking in at the same time from the same car, Noonan is irate, but can’t bring herself to cut her two best agents loose. It seems catching Pablo Escobar matters more than some silly, little government-issued guidelines. She’d get her day in court, but not today. Not for a while. 
Noonan is annoyed. 
Murphy is not. 
“Came across some new party drugs and not a single thing happened, right?”
“You could have found it, taken it home for you and Connie to enjoy,” you say as you slide your arm across Javier’s back, his hand on your hip. He rarely ever takes his hands off you now. “But, no, you bailed on me instead.” 
“Sounds like you should be thanking me, instead of busting my balls.”
“He’s right, baby,” Javier nuzzles your neck. “Could have been him stuck in that basement with me, horny as a cat in fucking heat.” 
You shrug as Murphy makes a face. “I blame the heatwave.”
He leans into your ear. “And I blame your fucking ass in that skirt. I’m gonna take you home, make good on my promise. Any objections?”
“Not at all.” 
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yourgirlsarchived · 2 years
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Since I am just eyeballs deep in Fantasy Series, the awake babes are getting translated into fantasy roles/species. Mostly the Middle-Earth verses and generic Fantasy verses will get most of my attention these days
LoTR specific: 
Jackie & Bucky: Dwarrows (Dwarves)
Sorcha & Steve: Sindarin or Noldor Elves (verse specific)
Sam Wilson: Hobbit (from Tuckborough)
Wanda: Ishtar of Vairë
Masha: Noldor Elf - survivor of Morgoth’s torture
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tyunzonlystar · 22 days
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I have a few things lined up... But I'll give a quick little drabble thing to feed you guys for a little :)
What txt would say during sex
MDNI‼️Warnings: dirty talk..? Dom! Yeonjun, sub/dom! Soobin, sub/dom! Beomgyu, dom! Taehyun, sub! Hyuka
YEONJUN
"Fuck.. You're so sexy baby"
"shitttt yes, pretty. Just like that"
"barely touched you and you're already leaving a wet patch on my lap?"
"you like when daddy touches you like this huh?"
"babe let me eat you out? Miss your sweet pussy"
"you gonna cum sweetheart?"
"go on cum for me"
SOOBIN
"hnng! M-Mommy!"
"shit you're so much smaller than me"
"fuckkk cock's stretchin' you out so well, yeah?"
"so fuckin' tight gorgeous.."
"t-too sensitive! Mommy please! S-stop mommy! Hurts..."
"take it like a good girl hm?"
BEOMGYU
"shut up."
"'m sorry!!"
"shit!! I said I was sorry!"
"I was so close why would you stop!!"
"mmphf.. Y/N you feel so good!"
"fuck! Yes that's it.. Take it like a good girl"
"slut! Fuck! Such a horny slut!"
TAEHYUN
"oh my fucking god baby"
"You're such a fucking brat aren't you? Answer me slut."
"where do you want my cum? Inside, on your tits, ass, thighs? On your thighs? That's what I thought"
"no no honey it's not too big.. Want me to go slower?"
"keep talking back with that mouth and I'll stuff it full of my cock"
"ruin me or ill ruin you"
HUENINGKAI
"n-no! I'm not humping my plushie!"
"feels so g-good! C-cumming!"
"I l-like that you- oh fuck.. you take control e-even though I'm bigger.."
"can you suffocate me between your thighs?"
"y/n can I bite your tummy..? Oh wait no! Can I fuck your thighs?"
"oh fuck i feel like I'm on cloud 9"
"yeah? You like it? How much more can you take though? It better be more cuz fuck I could do this all day"
I HOPE YOU LIKE ITTTT I HAVE A FEW FF COMING OUT IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS SO BE PREPARED BBS
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thebellearchives · 1 year
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𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 🔞 minors dni
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~ solomon ; obey me
✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : after a late night talk with you Solomon discovers he’s not as alone as he thinks he is
‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : smut, fem!reader, pet names (sweetheart, darling, princess, reader calls him Sol), biting, slight bondage???, fingering, vaginal sex, a bit of hair pulling, creampie, fluff/comfort at the very end
‧₊˚ a / n : this is set on lesson 46-12, there are some context spoilers but i think it should be fine?? if i missed anything that i should add to the content warnings please let me know ~
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The room was dark and the quiet night had been unexpectedly interrupted by heavy breathing, the rustling of clothing coming off in between the sheets, and the fulfilling sounds of mouths kissing in complicit lust. Solomon hovered over you, his arms supporting his weight at each side of your face. Your arms slithered from his naked chest to the back of his neck, fingers grasping his soft silvery white hair and eyes lingering over his inked pale skin. The way the complicated patterns of seemingly infinite pacts threaded with one another and decorated his body was mesmerizing, and when you breathed in through your mouth you could even taste a hint of his worn out cologne in the air. A slight uncertainty clouded your mind for a minute, not knowing if you were getting high off his scent or his touch.
“I thought i’d never get a chance like this” he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath making you shiver and sigh “wherever you go they follow, they never left you alone, i had lost most hope…”
And even then, he was still right. As if the brothers would ever leave you alone, the twins were still sleeping in the room next door. Biting your lip, you hoped to be as quiet and you thought you were being. Not like you could’ve thought about it much longer though, because Solomon’s hot tongue stole a taste of your skin and you jolted, panting and tugging his hair, he groaned.
“I’m so glad you still found your way to me” you could barely speak when one of his hands slid down your exposed skin, feeling as much of you as he could and making his way to your core “I feel like i’ve waited forever for you to come try something.”
His lips came back looking for yours and you gladly welcomed him with a kiss the both of you longed for. His fingers slid across your folds and you hitched a breath, he smiled into the kiss in teasing mischief and you thought your heart might’ve skipped a beat at that. Solomon’s thumb started rubbing circles at your nub. You broke the kiss with a sharp breath, hands flying back to his shoulders in order to somehow stabilize yourself from your own body’s reactions.
“Sol…” His lips pressed against yours in hopes of swallowing any sound. When his lips parted ways with yours for a small moment a small moan scraped from between your teeth, arching your back in response to the circular motion of his thumb.
“Shh, be quiet sweetheart, you don’t want to wake up your body guards do you?” immediately after the words left his mouth, you felt one of his fingers slipping inside of you. You huffed through your nose in annoyance, how exactly did he expect you to keep quiet? “you’re so wet princess, i wonder why?”
Cocky bastard. You pulled him back onto your lips, but instead of kissing him you bit his lower lip.
“Shit, alright, sorry” he giggled. But he didn’t mean it, because it was easy for him to slip another finger while pumping them in and out, crooking his fingertips slightly.
“Fuck, Solomon” you whined, a pleasured groan scratched in your vocal chords in the way out. His other hand went in search of one of your breasts. The touch of his long slender fingers grasping on your skin as if he was clutching the very bedsheets underneath, teasing the areola and then rolling the hardened nipple playfully. Solomon’s ghostly grey eyes glistened with the faint moonlight coming through the window and stared at you in fascination, dilated pupils reveling in the expression on your face.
“You’re so fucking beautiful” his husky and agitated voice sounded like music to your ears.
Your eyes started to get hazy, your thoughts were scattered around the fiery feeling of the friction of his fingers moving in and out of you, the rubbing of his thumb on your clit, his other hand massaging your breast. The bliss of his touch was building up more and more and your throat closed up in a desperate attempt of silence.
“Sol- I- I’m-” Your nails dug on his skin, you almost choked on your own saliva, shutting your eyes.
“Not yet darling” everything stopped at once, and you immediately fluttered your lashes open in search of him. You were about to protest, but when he shifted his position in between your legs you felt the tip of his member threatening at your entrance.
“You’re ready for me yet?”
“Yes” the reply came almost immediately “yes”
He grabbed his cock and gathered the arousal dripping out of you, making your thighs jerk and hug his hipbones. You let out yet another annoyed whine. He giggled at your reaction, and bent forwards to give you a tender kiss when he finally started sliding inside you at a tortuously slow pace.
“Fuck, you’re so needy” he tried to keep his cool, but the raspiness of his voice and the slight falter of his words was unmissable to you.
A hushed exhale hissed its way out through his teeth as your walls ultimately enveloped him completely. You pulled him down on top of you from his neck until his chest hit against yours. He gasped at the gesture, then gave you a moment to adjust. Wandering hands explored the path of the curves of your silhouette in desire, and he felt like getting drunk on the shaky breath your mouth poured in between his lips. His long slender fingers traveled across your arms towards your wrists to hold them above your head.
“You can move” you whispered.
His body glided on top of yours, slowly doing what you asked for, a fine layer of sweat on your bodies acting as glue. One of his arms slithered under the curve of your lower back to hold you close to him, and his right hand slid across your neck and into the roots of your hair. You tried to move your hands back to his silky locks, but soon discovered your wrists were bound together, and wouldn’t move where you wanted them to. He must’ve used magic.
“Such a pretty princess…” he managed to whisper while building up a rhythm “guarded by angels and demons… waiting for me, sitting pretty on the throne…”
Waiting, waiting and waiting, that was what your relationship with him was all about. Waiting for him to talk more to you, to let his eyes linger more on you, to make a move at all. Wishing for more time with him, wishing for the courage to confess the feelings that burned in your chest like wildfire whenever the sorcerer’s silver eyes laid over you ever so slightly. You rolled you eyes and let your head fall back as his hips thrusted rhythmically against yours, the angle brushing your clit just right and panting, gasping for air and hoping it would fan the flames that were starting to deliciously consume your body. He planted little kisses on your chin, trailing your jawline.
“I still managed to fool them all for you” his trusts became harder with his statements, he started whispering in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine “i fooled them all for you tonight”
Your eyes widened at the realization. Fooled them all. Getting rid of Lucifer’s power and influence by shrinking him with the perfect excuse, and knowing the little antic would keep Satan and Mammon entertained enough to leave you alone for a at least a while. Guiding you across Levi’s fictional world with only the twins for company, the two brothers he could easily get rid of by sorting them together in a room so he could share the remaining one with you. He’s a genius, you thought. He toyed with demons like he would with chess pieces. His tongue ran down to the crook of your neck, teeth caught your skin and you felt his sharp canines playfully looking forward to leave a mark on you, provoking a moan roll off your tongue.
“I don’t need demons or angels, i need you.” the confession left your mouth like a waterfall, and you knew you couldn’t stop it, because your mind started to get cloudy and all you could think about was the way he was driving you mad. The fact that it was him, your mentor for whom you’d harbored an intense love for such a long time “i’m just a human, and i was made for a human, you.”
“Say that again” he was the one who sounded needy then, and somehow you were so aware of everything, that you felt the throbbing of his veins stimulate you from the inside and hinting at how close he was of his own release, you felt the muscles of your belly tightening in foreshadow of yours too “say your mine, darling…”
You inhaled sharply from your nose when his fingers grasped your hair from its roots and pulled, he licked your lower lip and you gasped.
“I’m yours i’m yours im yours” you chante the words in a moan, like they were your own personal mantra, your walls clenched uncontrollably around him and as you felt the pinnacle of pleasure rush through your body. A warm liquid filled you up and for a moment you swore you could feel stars bolt through all of your veins and arteries. You opened your mouth to let it all out, but Solomon quickly quieted you down by kissing you and swallowing the sounds. You both were left a heavy breathing mess, he caressed your cheek.
“My lovely little apprentice…” he whispered agitatedly, the white long lashes that framed his eyes tickled your face. You melted in his embrace, cheeks flushed to the limit and basking in the afterglow.
“Sol…”
“Yes darling?”
“… my arms, please?”
The sorcerer suddenly pulled his face away from yours, eyes widened and a bashful flush lit his cheeks, granting him an adorable boyish charm that filled your chest with adoration. You giggled at such innocent reaction.
“Right, yes, sorry.”
His body stretched as his hands reached for yours to release you from the spell. It was a relief to finally be able to move your arms, and the first thing your instinct asked for was to run your fingers through his now damp hair.
“Are you okay?” his sudden concern almost made his pupils tremble when they searched for yours.
“I’m more than okay” you replied with a small chuckle, and he sighed, a little smile tugging from the corners of his mouth.
“Alright” Solomon pushed himself above you and pulled out from in between your legs with a grunt. The feeling of emptiness made your body feel cold, and the feeling of his seed leaking out of you made your frame shudder underneath his “we should get you clean shouldn’t we?”
“Wait!” your hands grabbed him by his shoulders in sudden urgency. He blinked twice, staring.
“Yes?”
Your heartbeat started racing once again, your trembling hands cupped his face. For a moment, hesitation forced you to bite your lip in a attempt to keep your pathetic words hidden from him. Specially when he was looking at you in expectation, and he was so ethereal that for a split second your mind almost convinced you that everything that had just happened was a dream, and you were scared that if he left you’d wake up. You licked your lips and sighed.
“Love does not evade you, Solomon.”
His breath got caught up on his throat out of nowhere.
“W-what?”
“You said that even on centuries on end, some things still manage to elude you. It’s not true. You’re not alone. I’m here with you. I’m here for you.”
His facial features then softened, a fond smile adorning his expression with tenderness. He didn’t say anything, instead his hand caressed your cheek and then leaned in to leave a soft sweet kiss on your lips.
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