#hot swinging action | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shlonguru · 3 months

Note

Can we get one of Alastor fucking you in his radio booth and broadcasting it to fuck with Vox~ pretty please with a cherry on top💕

God thank you so much for your request and this idea, it really inspired me so much and I might do even more with this cause I find it inherently hot hehe. I'm so happy so many people enjoyed the first part of Alastor x Fem!Reader x Vox and I'm a degenerate so I wrote a second. I hope you guys like it too! Enjoy my fellow degenerates! o/

I would also like to thank @wipmoop for their amazing art cover for this smut! They're truly the best you can check them out !

And with this, I present you, drumroll please :

Alastor X Fem!Reader X Vox 2 - Rematch !

Summary : You're tired of waiting for your rematch and decide to take things into your own hands. Are you ready to face the consequences of your actions ?

Warning : 18+, Smut, dirty talking, oral, oral creampie, creampie, threesome, cum swallowing, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, rough, cunnilingus, hair pulling, bondage, spanking.

Word Count : 4883 words (Yup, it's worse than the first one.)

After the events of the party Alastor brought you back to the hotel, explaining to Charlie that you might’ve hmm…had more than you could handle. She was delighted at the idea of you residing at the hotel and extended an unlimited invitation to you. You had your own room and actually enjoyed the people there more than you thought you would. You thought you’d give redemption a shot. However, you had been dreaming of your rematch with Vox and Alastor and it occupied most of your daily thoughts, as much as you hated to admit it.

It had been 2 weeks since you moved in and you hadn’t really been seeing Alastor since the party, he was a busy man after all, he was usually very polite when he saw you and would give you a hand kiss or wink at you. You hadn’t seen Vox at all since the party, but it wasn’t too surprising. Slowly, you started realizing that you were okay with what happened being a one-off thing.

This day you had just finished exercises with everyone and was chilling having some tea when Charlie exclaimed: “Oh Alastor is hosting his radio show! We should bring him some tea! Where’s Niffty? She’d be super-fast.” She looked around unable to find her.”

“She was chasing a family of roaches last time I saw her.” You explained drinking your tea. “I can bring him if you want.” You offered, not thinking much of it, but knowing the idea of seeing Alastor brought a slight smile to your face.

“Really?” Asked Charlie with sparks in her eyes. “That is such a selfless act I love it!”

“Is it?” You questioned. She nodded furiously before handing you a tray with a cup of tea, some milk, sugar, and some biscuits on it.

You left the group and started making your way to the radio tower. As you approached it you heard the demon speaking into his mic.

“And that my fellows, is why you should never trust a demon whose name starts with a V. I will return in a moment, enjoy this musical break of electro swing.”

You arrived in front of the door and knocked.

“Come in.” You heard.

You entered the room to find Alastor sitting in front of his station, his legs crossed.

“Oh, Hello Dear!” He exclaimed seeing it was you at the door.

“Hi! Charlie asked me to bring you some tea. How’s your show going?” You smiled as you entered the room. Alastor looked at you intensely as you walked past him, his smile as wide as ever, you could feel his gaze on your body, you were wearing a short red dress hugging your shape and flared at the bottom and a pair of black thigh highs. You sat the tray on the coffee table he had next to him and poured him a cup of tea.

“The show is going as well as it needs to be.” He replied coldly, pausing afterwards. “But more importantly, this dress suits you very well, I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since that night at the party.” He proclaimed calmly.

Your face flushed lightly and he noticed. He hadn’t talked about the party since that night and the simple mention of it sent back embarrassing flashbacks to your mind. Not that you regretted it.

“Oh really? I hadn’t noticed. This is more casual though.” You replied, not looking him in the eyes.

“Is it now Dear?” Asked the demon searching for your gaze then looking you from the bottom up.

“I'm glad you like it." You teased then presented the cup in front of him and thought you noticed a quick glance at your cleavage.

This was enough for you to decide that you had done progress at the hotel and that meant you deserved a little reward, and if you were honest with yourself, you had missed Alastor and Vox’s touch since that night, after all, they had given you a night you could never forget as promised. You had been a good girl but now it was time to drop the act.

You lingered giving him a good look. You then asked innocently: “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He took a good look at you, almost as if he was trying to gauge your intentions. “Actually, I do, would you grab me the mic from the shelf over there.”

“Sure!” You replied smiling. You made your way to the shelf and pretended to struggle to grab the mic which fell to the floor and rolled under the shelf. You then got on all fours and bent over trying to grab it, almost exposing your parts. After grabbing it you stood back up and turned around only to be met with Alastor smiling widely, leaning on the counter of his studio.

“Are you doing okay, Dear?” He grinned tauntingly before taking a sip.

“I don’t know, am I? Here’s your mic.” You handed him the mic. He put down his cup of tea and grabbed the mic slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. He then proceeded to pull swiftly on it, bringing you with it as you hadn’t let go yet. Your body ended up pressed against his.

“You know if you had been craving my attention this badly you should have mentioned it sooner.” He exclaimed looking deep into your eyes.

“Did I crave your attention, or did you miss giving it to me?” You asked smugly smirking back.

“Oh, I can give it to you alright.” He smiled wider, his mouth an inch from yours.

“Do it then.” You smiled back, holding the fold of his jacket.

You felt his lips crash onto yours, the both of you dropping the mic simultaneously. He grabbed your hips tightly pulling you into the kiss, kissing you even deeper as he moved one hand behind your neck. He then lowered his hands to your ass before grabbing both of your cheeks tightly, pulling you off the ground, you legs locking around him instinctively. He turned around, still kissing you while holding your weightless body and sat you on the edge of the counter of his studio. He grabbed both of your wrists and laid you on your back, pinning your hands above your head. He then proceeded to kiss down your neck and onto your cleavage.

“Coming here dressed this way was your mistake.” He smirked.

“Debatable.” You smirked back.

He kept both of your hands pinned together with one of his and took a good look of your flushed, panting, and eager body. While scanning down your body he noticed something that made his eyes widen slightly before he went back to looking into your eyes with a devious smile. His second hand travelled down your body making you realize how sensitive you felt already.

“You might not have missed my attention but this part of you certainly has.” His hand then rubbed against your womanhood, making you realize just how soaked you were already as you squirmed.

“Listen Dear,” he looked at you, still rubbing your pussy, “I’m going to let go of your hands, but you may not touch anything but yourself with them.” He then let go of your hands and pussy before bending over you, resting both of his hands on each side of your head.

“Understood?” He menacingly whispered with a very serious grin.

You nodded.

“Good girl. And be sure to make all of hell know how good you’re feeling.” He smiled before removing his jacket which he threw on his couch.

“Wha-“ You were about to question but then saw him casually turn on the mic of his station. The sign [On Air] turning bright red confirming what you thought.

Alastor then proceeded to kneel in front of you and pull you closer, to the edge of the counter, he then ripped your panties in one movement and started digging in.

You immediately felt his tongue dig deep inside of you, earning a loud moan out of you as he spread your walls. The moans kept pouring as he enthusiastically ate you out, alternating between the inside and the outside of your pussy that he was eating like the first meal he’d had in days. He kept moving his tongue in motions that sent jolts up and down your body.

Before you realized, your hands had made their way into Alastor’s hair, pulling slightly as the pleasure intensified. You only noticed when the pleasure stopped. You looked down, confused, and immediately realized your mistake, letting go of his hair, as the tall demon stood back on his feet, looking at you calmly, which somehow made it scarier.

“Didn’t we agree on you touching nothing but yourself? See not only have you not touched yourself, but you’ve also touched me, and I am not part of you, yet.” He said menacingly.

“Sorry…” You muttered.

“Too late Darling, I’m afraid bad girls need to be disciplined.”

You stared at him as you witnessed him calmly removing his bowtie then grabbing both of your wrists once again, this time tying them together, in a very tight fashion.

“Good.” He exclaimed proud of his work.

And with that he resumed eating you out, this time more aggressively. You felt your walls tighten as he attacked them relentlessly, grabbing your thighs with both of his hands. Your moans were getting louder and louder as his name poured continuously out of your mouth until you felt the knot that had been building up break and the orgasm wash over your body, making your legs shake in the process.

“Holy shit…” You blurted, panting hard as you watched Alastor stand up and give you a quick kiss.

“See, you know how to be a good girl.” He whispered in your ear before licking your ear lobe. You felt his throbbing crotch press against yours.

Before any of you could add anything, you saw a glowing blue circle draw itself around the both of you.

“What is th-“ You couldn’t finish your sentence as you felt yourself fall down through what had now obviously been a portal. The radio demon fell with you, though in a much classier and composed manner, almost as if he knew it was coming.

You felt yourself land on something soft and looked around. It was a very large bed. Alastor had landed comfortably on his feet next to the bed.

“Took him long enough…” He huffed.

You scanned the room; it was very large and luxurious, like a palace. It was a giant bedroom with huge French windows, and tall wooden doors at its entrance. As soon as you laid your eyes on said doors they opened violently.

“The fuck is wrong with you !?” Yelled the handsome tall demon entering the room. It was a very furious Vox. Seeing him furious made you immediately crave him.

“Well, hello to you too.” Smiled Alastor, still in the same relaxed position.

“Why would you broadcast her for all of hell to listen to? Have you lost your mind?” He screamed unable to compose himself.

“I only did so long enough for you to notice.” He mentioned “And if you were so bothered by it, then maybe you should have noticed sooner.” He smiled wider.

“What a dumbass.” Vox walked past Alastor and arrived in front of you. He smiled for the first time.

“Long time no see y/n !” He leaned in front of you making you blush as you took a good look at his handsome figure.

“Hi Vox! I’ve missed you!” You smiled with your face still flushed from your orgasm. He held your chin up gently.

“Fuck I really missed that hot face of yours, I’m sorry you were stuck with such an ungrateful prick for so long, I knew you should’ve moved into my place instead. You’ve clearly gone way too long without getting some well-deserved action, which would have never happened here by the way.” He said that last part louder on purpose. He looked down for a second. “Dear, you are making my sheets wet already, did you really miss me that much?” He smiled looking at your exposed parts, dripping onto the bed.

“We could have settled on a date to have our rematch instead of you exposing her to every lowlife that would listen.” He turned to Alastor.

“Our dear friend couldn’t wait any longer and well I guess I had to take matters into my own hands.” He said innocently.

“You’re such a piece of shit.” Proclaimed Vox with a wide grin on his face, briefly glitching. “I see you’re unable to try and beat me without a head start you radio bastard.”

“It’s not like I was doing anything you could do anyways, Mr. Flat-screen-no-tongue.” The redhead smirked.

“Oh really?” He glitched lightly. “Sit back, relax and shut the fuck up.”

He turned to you, and away from Alastor.

“Y/n! Time to get that rematch baby! Get your ass on the edge of that bed and spread those legs for me!”

Your body moved on its own at this command, and you managed to sit up at the edge of the bed despite your wrists still tied together and sat with your thighs spread open, revealing your most intimate part which couldn’t lie about how much you wanted this. Vox looked at you intensely, taking in the sight he had missed more than he thought he had and bent over resting one hand on his knee, the other holding the bowtie tying your wrists together with a finger.

“Has someone been a bad girl~?” He teased.

“That’s entirely possible.” You smirked back. You could tell from his face he liked that. He let go of your wrists and grabbed both of your thighs tightly, making you lose your balance and fall back onto the bed. The next instant, you sensed something that felt like a tongue slide inside your pussy. It sent immediate literal jolts up your body, earning a loud moan out of you that surprised even you. You came a little from that but didnt say anything, you moved your head, looking at what was going on down there and saw a big blue tongue, sliding out of Vox’s screen and eating out your deepest parts.

“Oh wow!” You exclaimed not knowing what to make of the mix of intense pleasure, surprise and shock you were feeling. A quick glance behind Vox and you saw Alastor roll his eyes unbothered having a cup of tea on the sofa not too far. You didn’t have time to really process anything as the TV demon kept eating you out aggressively, making your orgasm come sooner than you would have expected. You had absolutely no control over how fast it was building up, you just felt it snap and felt yourself come, arching your back embracing the wave of pleasure, grabbing your dress tightly as you did so.

You felt the tongue pull out of you and giving your whole pussy a good lick before Vox stood back up, wiping his face with a satisfied look on his it.

“Fuck you’re so hot when you come.” He blurted trying to keep his composure, but you could already see his member throbbing through his pants.

“Are you done with your ridiculous endeavor? An attempt to prove what exactly?” Exclaimed Alastor in a tone he tried to portray as nonchalant, but everyone else could tell he was ticked off. “Can’t you see she comes so easily you could barely even consider it a challenge.”

That statement pissed you off because as much as you were enjoying yourself you didn’t like being underestimated.

“I had no idea my enjoying myself would make you this insecure?” You responded smirking in your brattiest tone.

“Oh, I like you more and more.” Said Vox raising his brows and smiling at you.

You could swear you noticed an eye twitch on Alastor.

“You brat…clearly if you’re still feeling this confident then we haven’t gone hard enough on you.” He declared with a wicked smile scaring you as much as it turned you on. Alastor teleported onto the bed next to you, grabbed your hair firmly into a ponytail and pulled you further into the large bed, leaving you no choice but to follow him on your knees before pulling your face close to his. Your tied hands were hanging down in front of you as you looked up at the radio demon. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.” He kissed you deeply shoving his tongue in your mouth making your head spin. He pulled away from the kiss for a second.

“Sorry Dear, I am but a terrible spectator.” He went back into the kiss making you dizzy as he pulled down the top of your dress making your breasts bounce out of it. He grabbed one of your tit with his free hand, pinching your nipple and making you whine softly.

"Now you’re going to use all that confidence you were so proud of just seconds ago and you’re going to take it all in.” He let go of you and you fell on all fours, now facing his crotch. You took a good look and immediately noticed how tight his pants looked around his cock, it almost looked painful. With your tied wrists you unzipped his pants, pulling out your reward.

‘Was it this big last time?’ you thought to yourself. A slight look of surprise covering your face for a brief instant.

“Yes, it was.” Replied the radio demon, as if he had read your mind. “You were just too eager to notice.” He finished. You blushed heavily before giving your best shot at taking as much of his member as you could in your mouth, it amounted to about 2/3 of his manhood.

“Not quite, Dear, here, let me give you a hand.” He chuckled before shoving your face down his member, lodging it all the way down your throat. You couldn’t breathe but it still felt good, you pussy was quivering and dripping, and Vox noticed.

“Damn, look at your cunt, don’t worry I gotchu.” You heard Vox who was right behind you and the moment after felt him give your ass a hard spank. That made you moan loudly, and you knew Alastor felt it when you heard a groan coming from him, you looked up only to be met with an intense and serious gaze filled with lust coming from the radio demon. His hands were both in your hair, guiding your mouth up and down, enjoying himself.

Vox stood right behind you, and you heard his pants unzip. Immediately after, you felt one of his hands rest on your hips and the tip of his cock rub against your entrance teasingly.

“Have you missed that?” He asked, lust exuding off his tone. After a few seconds of his teasing, you wanted to beg for him to insert it but you mouth was too full for that.

“Come on…” He teased, knowing he put you in an impossible position.

In one motion you pulled your mouth off Alastor’s cock and pleaded loudly. “Vox please I need your cock in me!” You looked at him with a lewd look on your face .

Seeing you in that state made him blush briefly before he composed himself again.

“Fucking finally! You’re so fucking hot!” He groaned loudly pushing all of him inside of you in one go making you scream of pleasure in the process. You immediately felt Alastor grab your hair in the same fashion he had moments ago, pulling your face close and squinting.

“Let’s not get distracted now, shall we?” He demanded sternly.

Vox felt you tighten around him as you heard those words, pulling an involuntary moan out of him.

“You naughty girl, you’re loving this aren’t you?” He spanked roughly you before starting to thrust at a rather fast pace.

“Obviously.” Declared Alastor smiling before shoving your face back onto his cock. He was the one thrusting now, in fact, they both were and soon enough, you felt that coil build up once again in your insides. Your eyes rolled back as you felt the knot snap.

Vox felt you tighten almost uncomfortably around his member as you came. He grabbed both of our ass cheeks tightly.

“That’s right, come for me!” He groaned throwing his head back and fucking you through your climax, holding your ass tightly then spanking it.

You had just finished coming when you felt Alastor pull out of your mouth. You exhaled loudly catching your breath.

“Good job not suffocating, here’s your reward.” Said Alastor grabbing your panting figure, pulling you off Vox and propping you onto his cock as he stood on his knees, you were still panting but it was now intertwined with moans as he effortlessly moved you up and down his member. You moved your tied up wrists over his head, wrapping your arms around his neck and grabbing it gently, you kissed him softly yet longingly as the moans continuously flooded out of your mouth. You felt his member grow thicker inside of you, as expressed by your moans becoming louder. Your kiss was interrupted by the TV overlord who grabbed your chin, turning your face away from the radio demon.

“Now you can’t just give all your holes away so easily my dear.” He said calmly standing bent over next to you.

“My apologies.” You replied looking up into his eyes.

“You’re forgiven.” He added with a smooth voice before you felt his lips meet yours. You were surprised at how soft they felt, and you had just found out he could do such a thing. He probably didn’t do it every day, but he was such a good kisser, you were dazzled by the kiss before he pulled out of it.

“Now open up dove, we’re not done just yet.” He grinned.

He hadn’t finished his sentence that you had opened your mouth, eagerly awaiting him.

“My god you’re such a good little slut.” He laughed not able to contain himself any longer, he pushed himself deep into your mouth and moaned loudly as he did so, you started moving your head swallowing his member to the base each time.

You hadn’t noticed because of how gradual it had been, but Alastor was now moving much faster than how he had started, hitting your deepest parts each time.

“Are you going to come again and prove me right?” Alastor smirked at you, pausing his thrusting for a moment and spanking your ass roughly. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock and stopped moving as he immediately grabbed your head and kept the thrusting going.

“Nuh uh, you can’t stop yet.” The TV demon said as he kept pumping in and out of your mouth.

You looked at Alastor from the corner of your eye.

“What is it sweetheart? The TV got your tongue?” He spanked you again this time harder. Your pussy tightened around him, and he felt it, making his grin widen even more.

You looked at him trying your hardest to stay in control.

“Aww you still think you can decide whether you come or not. How adorable…I guess it’s time I teach you this lesson.” He squinted his eyes challengingly before he spanked you one last time, harder than all the other time, this time immediately grabbing both of your ass cheeks very firmly, not breaking eye contact with you.

“I…” He slammed you against his cock. “…decide…” He slammed harder. “…if…” He slammed even harder, digging his nails into your ass. “…and when…” He slammed hard and you felt yourself dangerously close to the edge. “…you come!” He grinned, slamming one last time harder than you had ever felt him thrust in you and he saw your eyes roll back as your pussy started pulsating around his cock. You moaned loudly around Vox’s cock, who pulled out just in time to hear it aloud. You were panting hard, your whole body going limp.

Vox grabbed your face and pressed your cheeks together bringing his face close to yours. “You’ll relax soon enough bitch, but we’re not done yet.” He then proceeded to grab you off Alastor and prop you once again on all fours. You were wobbly at best. “Come on are you already exhausted? After all this big talk?” He spanked you now red ass making you whine. You moaned softly and looked at him with pleading eyes. Your legs felt weak from all this thrusting and climaxing, and he could tell. He let out a soft sigh.

“Here. Let me give you a hand.” He grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder. “Now you’re going to take it like a good girl?” He looked at you his eyes focusing intensely on you.

“Yes, Sir.” You pleaded. As soon as he heard those words coming out of your mouth he felt an irrepressible urge to take you and you felt all of him enter you once more, at this point your pussy being overstimulated felt so sensitive everything felt ten times more intense. You moaned loudly while your tongue hung out of your mouth, and you gripped the sheets tightly as Vox started thrusting more roughly than he previously had.

Alastor, seeing your tongue hanging and your mouth open, took this opportunity to push himself inside your mouth and started thrusting.

“Enjoy your own taste dear, because you’re about to taste me.” He declared with a sadistic gaze on his now flushed face. You loved seeing the evolution of his boldness as lust took over.

“Shit you’re so fucking tight!” Vox thrusted hard, gritting his teeth, and digging his nails into your thigh, pulling it close against his chest as he lost himself in pleasure, his movement becoming more erratic as he glitched and he brought himself closer to the final release, nevertheless, he never failed to hit your G-spot with each thrust. You felt it coming, despite your best efforts, they both felt you tense up more and more. You still did a great job wrapping your tongue around the radio demon’s shaft, you heard his breath get shakier as he maintained composure fucking your mouth, one hand under your chin and the other in your hair.

You felt the knot about to snap as you hear them both declare as one:

“Are you ready?”

They both thrusted deep in you one last time, releasing simultaneously, filling you up from both sides as you came one last time, almost seeing stars at this point.

Alastor let out the closest thing to a moan as he emptied himself directly down your throat tightening around his member, slowly pulling himself out afterwards and enjoying the sight of your dazed expression.

“Good job.” He patted your cheek smiling and slightly panting, much more relaxed than a few moments ago.

Vox pulled out next and you immediately collapsed onto the bed, cum flowing out of you.

“Holy shit you felt so fucking good!” Vox also felt all sorts of dizzy after his orgasm. He quickly got a grip and they both grabbed what was necessary to clean you up, laying you down comfortably after Alastor removed his bowtie from your sore wrists and Vox handed you one of his shirts to wear.

You were fast asleep and woke up probably a few hours later to both of them having tea in the corner of the room.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you can’t talk your way into being better in bed, she literally blacked out after I made her come, that’s how good it was.” Expressed Vox with frustration.

“Maybe that or you were just so boring she fell asleep.” Replied Alastor calmly sipping his tea.

“Fuck off, weren’t you facefucking her as well? Wouldn’t that make you boring by extension?” He proclaimed, anger taking over his tone.

Alastor ignored him. You moved in the bed making it creak and earning their attention.

“Oh, looks like our friend has finally awaken from her great slumber.” Announced the radio demon.

They both arrived by your side as you fully came to.

“Hello beautiful.” Exclaimed Vox, with his usual smile and composure. “How are we doing?”

“Well!” You replied attempting to stretch then realizing how sore your whole body felt. “Never mind.” You added.

They both smiled with a satisfied look on their face, almost as if admiring their work.

“Yeah, you need to rest. Next time try not to bite off more than you can chew sweetheart.” Declared Vox with Alastor nodding approvingly next to him.

“Any idea who performed best this time Dear?” Asked the radio demon.

“I mean, it’s hard to give you an answer when you both do whatever you want at all times.” You said with a hint of frustration. “Maybe if you both stuck to one hole, I would be able to tell.” You added, genuinely trying to recall all the events in the right order.

“Hmm, No.”

“Nope.” They both proclaimed simultaneously.

“We will, however, keep fucking you until you give us an answer.” Gloated Vox with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“I’m afraid it’s the only way.” Added Alastor calmly.

“Fair.” You conceded.

‘Holy shit what did I get myself into…’ You thought to yourself.

“Now, rest my dear, you’re going to need it.” Said Vox still smiling at you before vanishing into electricity out of the room.

“I’ll see you soon Darling.” Declared Alastor before smiling and disappearing into a shadow.

To be continued...

Vox is genuinely so effortless to write. I love how versatile he can be, Alastor on the other hand is rough -.- but once I'm done I can fully appreciate it.

PS : I know Alastor is Aroace and I hope no one takes offense to my work. I genuinely take pleasure in writing smuts and I've been loving his personality that's all.

Peace out ! o/

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #alastor x reader x vox #vox x reader x alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor smut #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #vox x you #vox x y/n #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #vox smut #smut

2K notes · View notes

sunniques · 20 days

Text

— 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

➺ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: as a spoiled brat, you’ve always been one to get what you want—even things that don’t belong to you.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, infedilty, age gap, dub con, possessiveness, somnophilia, daddy kink, breeding kink, begging, pussy job, riding, squirting, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation

➺ WC: 3k

NOTE: don’t like, don’t read.

The room is completely dark when you enter it. You can barely make out the familiar layout in the darkness, but that doesn’t stop you. With sly expertise, you navigate your way through the darkness until you find the large window at the opposite end of the room. You glance over at the bed for a moment before carefully opening the curtains and letting the moonlight into the room.

The moon is shining so brightly that it illuminates most of the room. Perfect. You look over your shoulder with a satisfied smirk. Your stepdad’s sleeping form looks ethereal in the moonlight. He’s shirtless, leaving his muscular form laid out for your greedy eyes to take in. The sheets are covering most of his lower half, but you can see his legs peeking through just a bit. You turn fully, licking your lips as you hope he’s decided to sleep naked. It wasn’t necessary, but it would help.

Like a preying feline, you inch toward the bed quietly until you’re standing at the edge. Seungcheol remains peacefully asleep, unaware that he’s been caught in your web of depraved desires. You bite your lip as excitement courses through your veins. Slowly and quietly, you slip out of your sleep shorts and your loose top. Only left in your tiny thong, you crawl on the large bed and carefully inch toward your sleeping stepfather.

You take a quick glance at his sleeping face before tossing the sheets off his body. To your luck, Seungcheol is completely naked. It’s hard to contain your excitement and lust when you see his dick. Your eyes glaze over and your mouth waters at the sight. His cock is thick and long, curving upward into his abdomen. It’s so big and pretty that you can’t hold back anymore. You crawl closer him and descend on his cock like a starved woman.

You lick a long stripe from the base of his cock all the way up to the bulbous tip. His musky taste has your pussy clenching around nothing. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you repeat the motions over and over until his cock starts to twitch and harden. Soon enough, his tip starts to leak with precum that you greedily lap up. You relish in the soft noises Seungcheol lets out as you circle your tongue around the leaking slit.

With a sly grin you pull back. Carefully, you slide off your underwear and toss it aside. You have a predatory smile on your face as you swing one leg over your stepdad’s strong body. A quiet moan tears from your throat when you sit down on his pulsing cock. You’re so wet that all your arousal drips onto his hardening cock. Biting your lip, you start to slide your slick cunt up and down his length. The delicious friction makes it impossible for you to contain your quiet moans.

Seungcheol’s hot cock feels too good against your pussy. Every ridge and vein dragging against your clit and slick lips is making you feel drunk with arousal. You watch with satisfaction as your stepdad’s thick eyebrows furrow. Low grunts tumble past his soft looking lips, and he looks so hot that you can’t believe you’ve waited so long to do this. If only your mom had gotten a promotion sooner. Now with her going on business trips more often, you would be able to have fun with her husband to your heart and pussy’s content.

You can feel just how much Seungcheol likes your lewd actions, and eventually you can’t handle any more foreplay. Lifting your hips up, you reach down and grab his cock. He’s so big that you can’t fully wrap your hand around him, and it just makes you all the more eager to have him inside you.

Somehow Seungcheol doesn’t wake up even when you tease his leaking tip against your creamy folds. You hiss quietly when the bulbous head goes past your folds. It’s painful at first, but you love every second of it. When you slide down on rest of his cock, you think you might cum from the stretch alone. You throw your head back, eyes rolling into your skull as you gasp out in pleasure.

No one has ever been so deep inside you. His cock is kissing your cervix, and it has your pussy clenching down on him so tightly that you think it might be a little hard to move. “Fuck.”

You lift your hips, and slowly ease yourself down again. Lustful whimpers and moans escape you as you slowly repeat your motions, feeling almost dizzy at the way his big cock is stretching you out. His dick feels so fucking good; hot and throbbing and aching to burst inside you.

“So fucking big.” You hiss, planting your hands on his torso. Tracing the ridge of his hard abs as you fuck yourself on his cock feels like absolute heaven, but you’re done indulging in your fantasy alone.

Throwing whatever scrap of inhibition you have left, you raise your lower body before roughly slamming your ass back down. The harsh movement makes you cry out in pleasure. You start to move eagerly, not holding back any of your movements. His cock hits deep inside you, stretching out your tight little hole with every bounce.

You can’t take your eyes off of Seungcheol’s face. Low groans slip out of his lips, and you can see his eyes twitching beneath his eyelids. You lick your lips and grin. He’s slowly starting to stir which makes you speed up your eager movements.

Seungcheol is slowly pulled out of his sleep by the feeling of immense pleasure. He feels the weight of someone on top of him and something hot and tight wrapped around his cock. Lewd squelching and lovely moans fill his ears as he slowly peels his eyes open. His vision is slightly blurry, but he can still make out the sight of a body that definitely doesn’t belong to his wife on top of him.

“What—?” His voice is groggy and comes out in a half-groan.

Seungcheol blinks slowly, suddenly very aware that his young stepdaughter is bouncing on his cock. The sight is so filthy and hot that his cock twitches and throbs inside you. It’s so wrong, but he’s too shocked to do anything. That, and he’s powerless to the way your tight cunt feels around him.

“Princess,” his voice is gruff, almost scolding in tone. “What are you doing?”

You moan and clench around him because even in this situation he still calls you by the pet name you love so much. Leaning back on your arms, you slow your bounces into gentle grinds to give Seungcheol a filthy show of your pussy being stretched open. You smirk when you see his eyes lock where you two are connected.

“Sorry, daddy.” You moan, not sounding sorry at all. “I couldn’t help myself—fuck. Your cock is just so big.”

Your bratty words really shouldn’t turn him on, but they do. It doesn’t help that you look so good while you use his cock like your own personal fucktoy. The way your pretty tits bounce is mesmerizing and the fucked out expression you’re wearing is enough to push him closer to his orgasm. Your moans are the filthiest he’s ever heard—so loud and impetuous. He feels sick for enjoying it all. The entire situation is so wrong, and yet he makes no move to get you off of him.

“Y/N.” He growls your name like you’ve imagined so many times.

You lean forward and grab his large hands. Slowly, you guide them up your body until they’re on your tits. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you, and you give him an impish smile as you make him squeeze.

“Yes, daddy?” You purr, slowing your movements to provide the most minimal friction.

A thrill runs down your spine when he lets out a grunt of disapproval. You can tell he’s still fighting himself on giving into his desires, so you clench down on him again as you increase your pace. Just like you thought, the lustful action ignites something in him. His hands squeeze your tits on their own this time, pinching and tugging on your hard nipples before they trail down your body.

Seungcheol sits up, any qualms about what was happening pushed out of his mind. He couldn’t think about his wife or the fact that he had enabled your behavior by always indulging your bratty desires. All he could think about was your sweet little cunt.

“God, baby.” He groans as his hands go to rest on your ass. “You’re such a needy girl. Couldn’t even ask me properly for my cock. You just had to come in here and take it like a greedy little brat.”

His big hands deliver a harsh slap to your ass which make you cry out and jolt forward. Seungcheol captures one of your tits in his mouth, tongue gliding over your taut nipple with an eagerness he’d been holding back until now.

“Daddy!” You mewl out, pussy clenching hard around his throbbing cock.

Seungcheol hisses around your nipple and kneads your ass. He slowly starts to fuck up into you as he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud. His senses are completely invaded by you—your taste, your scent, your touch. He can feel you get wetter as he wildly flicks his tongue around your nipple, rolling and sucking on it as if it’s an addicting candy.

Your arms wrap around your stepdad’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer to your chest as you slide up and down his thick cock. You toss your head back with a loud moan when his hands squeeze your ass as he starts to guide you up and down his dick. His leaking tip hits a spot that makes you see stars, and it pushes you closer to your orgasm.

“Fuck!” You squeal. “I love riding your big cock, daddy!”

“Yeah?” He groans against your tit. Seungcheol’s wet mouth pops off your nipple, a string of saliva attached to his lips. His eyes are dark with arousal and need. “Love me stretching out your tight little pussy?”

“Yes, daddy, yes! Can’t get enough of your dick!”

Your juices are dripping down his heavy balls and make the sound of his skin slapping against yours entirely carnal. Every clap of his heavy balls on your ass jolts you and forces you to brace yourself on his strong chest. One of Seungcheol’s hand trails up your spine and cups the back of your head to pull you to his lips. His mouth devours yours in a lust-fuelled kiss.

Seungcheol swallows your squeal as him other hand moves between your legs. His thumb finds your puffy clot, rubbing practiced circles on the aching bud. You moan into each other’s mouths as your juices coat his unrelenting cock. All it takes is one particularly hard thrust for you to cum all over Seungcheol’s cock.

“Da-Daddy!” You cry out in ecstasy as your cream stains his throbbing cock.

Seungcheol moans along with you. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of your hot cunt tightening impossibly around him. It almost feels like you’re suffocating his cock, and he loves every second of it. He licks his lips as he fucks up into you, stimulating you through your orgasm. The sight of you cumming is something he’ll never forget. A carnal desire consumes him, and in that moment he realizes he never wants to stop seeing it.

“Cum inside me, daddy.” You whimper in his ear.

You feel Seungcheol’s cock twitch and throb inside you. Immediately, you can tell the idea turns him on as much as it does you. As always, you’re determined to get what you want. “Want it so bad, daddy. Please.”

Seungcheol starts to fuck up into you roughly, groaning when he hears your needy pleas. It’s rare for you to say the word please, and to hear you moan it out so wantonly because you want his cum is driving him insane. As usual, he’s going to give you what you want. That doesn’t mean he won’t take full advantage of your desperation, though.

“Bratty little girl wants her pussy stuffed?” He coos against your collarbone. “You want daddy to fuck you full of cum?”

God, you’ve never wanted anything more. And at this point, you aren’t above begging for it.

“Yes!” You pant, thighs trembling as you move your hips to meet his rough thrusts. “Cum in my pussy, daddy! Fill me up like the nasty slut I am!”

Your words and your fucked out face are enough to push Seungcheol over the edge. He spills his hot cum into you with a loud moan of your name. Lewd squelching mix in with your cries of pleasure, the musky smell of sex permeating the air as your stepfather fucks his cum deep inside your battered cunt.

“Fuck, just look at you.” Seungcheol groans as he keeps slamming his cock against your cervix. “Milking daddy’s cock like the greedy little brat that you are.”

But he doesn’t stop there.

Seungcheol is insatiable, and now that he’s gotten a taste of your tight little pussy, he’s going to indulge himself to his cock’s desire.

One of his strong arms wraps around you. Suddenly you’re flipped on your back. You let out a choked moan as his hands spread you apart and his cock spears into you again. His hips start to snap relentlessly. Seungcheol has never looked hotter than he does now, literally fucking you into the bed he shares with your mother.

His thrusts are deliberate and rough, but he doesn’t stop or slow down. You’re crying out from the overstimulation, and it somehow makes him more ravenous. Seungcheol loves watching you tremble on his cock. You’re already so addicted to him fucking you that you don’t think to ask him to stop. In fact, you plead for more like the demanding little freak that you are.

Is it wrong that his chest swells with affection when you do?

Your arms wrap around his muscular back, yanking him down for a messy kiss. Seungcheol’s aching cock throbs against your velvety walls when you mewl out a needy daddy against his lips. He coos sweetly, lowering his body until his balls touch the filthiness between your thighs. Your stepdad’s big cock is slamming into you to the hilt, and you can practically feel him in your guts.

“Feels so fucking good, daddy.” You whine as he rams his cock into your sweet spot.

Your entire body tenses, and your cunt sucks him deeper, hungry for more despite there being no room left. Squelching noises bounce off the walls as he splits you open. Seungcheol fucks you harder and deeper as if he’s determined to rearrange your insides. He grabs your hips and pulls you to meet his rough thrusts before reaching down to collect your cream that’s formed a ring around his base.

Seungcheol gives you a filthy smirk as he laps up the fluids he’s collected from his fingers. He groans at the taste, knowing he won’t let you leave this bed until he’s made you cum on his tongue. “You taste so fucking sweet when you’re full of me, princess.”

The sight is so nasty and erotic that the coil building in your stomach snaps. Your stepdad leans back, watching with aroused fascination as you squirt all over his cock and cover his lower abdomen in your release. Your whole body convulses as quiet mewls pour from your mouth. His thrusts have slowed into thorough grinds as sticky strings connect your most intimate parts.

“Fuck—Y/N!” Seungcheol groans as he pumps you with another hot load.

“Give me all your cum, daddy!” You cry out, hips moving on their own when you feel his seed spill into your welcoming cunt.

You allow him to move you as he pleases, dragging out your orgasm as it bleeds into another—you can barely breathe as he rubs your sore clit. Seungcheol fucks his cum into you, forcing you to take the previous loads and his fat cock. Your sweet cries of pleasure are music to his ears. He knows then that he can’t possibly let anyone hear the lovely little noises you make.

“This pretty little pussy belongs to me now.” Your stepfather’s possessive grunt has you clenching around his dick. “Gonna fuck you like this every day. Gonna fill this tight cunt with my cum until your belly is swollen with my baby.”

His cum keeps spurting along your sore walls, trying to find space as if there’s any left. You moan wantonly when you feel it seep out of you. Seungcheol moans along with you, loving the sight of his seed leaking down your ass and drip onto his heavy balls.

Seungcheol pulls back with a fucked out smile, sweat brimming at his hairline. His chest fills with pride at your dazed expression. Slowly, he keeps fucking his cum into you, desperate to knock you up how he promised. Wet noises seep into your foggy mind, playing dully in the background to your cum-filled thoughts. He’s successfully fucked you stupid, and you’ve never felt so good.

Your cunt is filled to the brim, his seed coating your hole from the inside out. Seungcheol doesn’t hide his lascivious smirk. The sight just might be his favorite thing—next to that dumb expression you have on your face of course. It only makes him want to do it all over again. Each grind sends little shocks throughout your body. Seungcheol groans gutturally when you lazily start to meet his thrusts.

“My bratty little princess.” Seungcheol coos adoringly as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. “You’re sleeping with daddy tonight.”

The triumphant little smirk you give him is enough indication to let Seungcheol know that once again he’s fallen into his pretty little freak’s selfish trap.

#seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #svt smut #choi seungcheol smut #seventeen smut #svt x reader #svt x you #seungcheol x you

1K notes · View notes

kapriisunz · 8 months

Text

CLOWN THRONE & BALLOONS | LA!Buggy x fem!reader

Summary; You like kneeling for Buggy while he’s on his silly chair.

Warnings; Descriptions of Buggy being hot on said chair, fucking Buggy on said chair; Oral (m receiving), p in’ v, fem terms, you ride until you die.

LIVE ACTION ONE PIECE SPOILERS

A/N; FanFic writers please hurry on this I need this man carnally. Gotta smash the clown fear out of me. Also I’m not a fanfic writer but we need someone to jumpstart it, so if this isn’t up to your standard: my bad, I’ve never written and published before especially NSFW.

p.s: If it gets out that the actor doesn’t like his portrayal to be used in this type of way, I’ll be deleting this out of respect. Until then, Enjoy.

Masc!reader here! <- not made yet.

Under a harsh spotlight that only lights a tiny portion of the carnival tent, you’re kneeling in front of your captain. Right, in between his legs, with your head resting dangerously on his thigh, staring up at him.

Buggy had laughed Cabaji out of the tent when he had reported back from Shells town all before you came in.

He’s ‘relaxed’ on the wooden carnival chair, his hat hanging from on top of the back bar of the seat, with one of his legs propped up on the armrest and foot swinging lazily really helps encourage the imagination.

his brows crease his paint, shoulders are tense as he giggles at his speech.

Recounting the way Cabaji spoke of someone—and not him—had taken the Grand Line chart, you almost feel sorry for Cabaji.

The way Buggy speaks of this sounds as if he finds this amusing, you’re sure a part of him does but you can tell that he’s all but relaxed.

Buggy’s pride is flashy tales of himself, finding pure enjoyment from his endeavors so he can showcase them to the world. So, when some nobody ‘pirates’ haphazardly steal a map he planned to steal himself? He laughs.

But it seems all too forced.

"Captain?.." You ask.

He still wears his white and red striped bandanna however it does work as intended since you can still see fray blue hairs that linger around his face.

You wonder, if you asked, if could he put his blue hair into a ponytail. But you shake that thought away.

Buggy grumbles in thought, rubbing his forehead with his fingers, minding his clown paint. You frown at the sight of him and gently stroke his thighs in an attempt to soothe him.

“What will we do?” His eyes snap down at you, sending a thrilling chill down your spine. He giggled, almost too giddy for this situation.

He hums while cocking his head down at you and grinning mockingly. He sits upright, putting his leg down with a loud thud, trapping you in between him, and making your breath hitch.

“The map is mine.” He states tucking a fray hair behind your ear causing you to try and lean into his hand.

However, he snaps his gloved hand to your chin, pulling your face and bringing you closer to him. The wood floor creaks and your knees are a little chafed from kneeling for too long, but you pay no mind- too focused on Buggy and how his face is ever so close to yours. Your noses almost touching.

“And I’m gonna get it back.” He brushes his thumb over your lip, smudging your clown makeup to the side, making you nod up and down at his own words. “No matter who I have to kill.” He lets you go, pulling back against the chair again, you let out a breathy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

You can tell that he’s stressed, that he’s angry since he spent months planning only for it to be for nothing.

A light bulb lights above your head.

Looking around the tent, you and your captain are the only people present as the other ‘freaks’ of your crew must be perfecting their ‘performance’ or taking care of the ‘audience’.

You muster the guts to carry on rubbing his thighs while gradually moving your hands upward along him.

You again place your head on his thigh while feigning innocence. You feel up the striped tunic and then tug at the hem of his pants. He swiftly grips your wrist and causes your breath to catch.

“What are you doing?” He eyes you.

“I..want to make you happy,” You continue, trying your best to not show how worried you are, worried that you step a bit too close to danger with your intentions.

He bends forward and looks at you in the eye. His stare makes you even more nervous, aren’t able to determine if he is angered by what you are doing from the stoic way he stares.

You’re about to apologize but to your surprise, he presses a kiss to your wrist almost too affectionate.

He lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you into one kiss. You let out a moan, heat rising to your face both in shock and rosemary-colored lust. He pauses to look at your face, his hand entangled into your hair with a vice grip.

“You want to take care of your captain?”

He asks tightening the grip on your hair and making you bite back another moan, but you nod on your own this time.

He leans back casually, chuckling at the sight of you. His red paint had smeared over your mouth, you must look stupid, pathetic even: You knelt in front of him hair ruffled and face paint mucky but he found humor in your messy appearance.

“Show me,” Buggy purrs with a wave of his hand for you to continue, a lustful glint in his eye, you nod.

You’re now set on a mission, and that mission is to give your jolly captain the most mind-numbing head. And maybe more if you’re lucky

With his consent, you continue with newfound courage, you unlace his tan trousers as he spreads his legs for you, giving you more room.

Your heart pounds against your chest.

You want to please your captain.

You glide your hand down and graze his crotch, a prominent bulge in his pants all while he watches, hissing at your touch.

Finally, you pull his pants and underwear down to his mid-thigh, his cock throbs against his abdomen.

Buggy, who still has a hand in your hair, tugs you closer, nervously you take his heavy cock into your hand and give an experimental stroke.

With a flat tongue, you follow a long vein, giving a lengthy lick from the underside of his shaft to the pinkish tip, his chest is heavy as he breathes, trying not to roll his head back and keep his eyes on you.

He wants to watch you do this.

“Such a good girl..”

Needing more praise from your flashy clown captain you continue.

Your mouth is on the mushroom tip as you suck down, taking him halfway to not trigger a gag reflex.

You clench your thighs together at the groan he makes desperate for any friction, you bob your head on his cock while giving rough strokes on the part you can’t fully take.

However, Buggy forcibly pulls your head down on him making you grab his thighs and gag slightly, he waits only a moment for you to recover, your nose buried into his bunched tunic.

You give him a light tap and he has you moving your head again along his cock, you slowly learn to breathe out your nose and hollow your cheeks as you take him.

You’ll most likely have a sore throat after this.

Your eyes tear up a bit as you take him, his dick hits the back of your throat rhythmically and ruthlessly. Letting you moan around him, and making him buck his hips at the sensation.

“Fuck . . . you’re doing so well,”

Fuck, you want him to talk more, you’re positive that your nails have dug into him as you feel a shock of arousal pulse through your cunt.

You need relief, and Buggy notices that.

He pulls your head off him, a long string of saliva from your mouth to his dick. He pulls you up by the collar of your shirt to make you hover in his lap. Your knees are now on either side of him.

He wastes no time though, a hand under your skirt and a long drag of his fingers from your cunt to your clit over your panties.

You instinctively cry out, but Buggy is quickly on you, drowning out your moan. The kiss is sloppy, but you and he don’t mind.

“You’ll need to be quiet, you don’t want someone from the crew to get curious about the beautiful noise coming from here.” All you can do is nod, and try to not make much noise by biting your lip.

He’s experienced but rough with the circles he rubs on your clothed clit. He pulls your panties to the side but frustratingly rips them and throws them to the side-, and checks how slick you are with another long stripe.

You’re unsurprisingly ready without much touching from his end which he smirks at, he places his gloved hands-that have damp fingertips- on the divot of your hips.

You place your own hands on his shoulders the fur of his coat nestled between your fingers as you grip it.

You slowly lower yourself onto his cock, the pink leaky tip at the entrance of your cunt, you can feel it already throbbing.

You are about to fully go down but Buggy beats you to it, a bit impatient he bucks his hips up into you. Your legs around his thighs tense and shake at the sudden intrusion, keeping his words in mind you bite your lip, and you bite hard.

He groans at how tight and warm you are.

He begins to bounce you up and down, and once you follow the rhythm you’re both panting and groaning, hard to stop yourself from doing so when take the opportunity to explore your body.

His gloved hands tail all over your figure, teasing your chest through your shirt.

You take the time as well, to gaze at him, every part of him and then, you decide that; you want to bite his neck.

And you do.

He’s caught by surprise when you pull his ascot to bite and suck on his neck, so much so that he gives you a whiny moan when you do so.

At the noise, you feel your walls clench around him, making him hiss and buck his hips up into your sopping pussy.

Determined to have his dick mold your cunt in his shape you start to move faster and deeper, still leaving purple and red marks along his neck -and clown paint, at least you aren’t the only one who looks stupid now.

You can feel the build-up in the pit of your stomach, a tight coil forms ready to snap at one extreme movement.

Buggy’s also close having the same overwhelming feeling.

He enjoys having you rubbed up against him, your teeth biting at his neck trying so hard to keep your mewls down but they’re right in his ear.

Throughout this, he wasn’t ever suspecting to have you at his feet licking stripes on his dick nor have your slick tight pussy bouncing on him and dirtying his clothes, and to be fair he’s quite enjoying himself.

He’s a goner once he hears the next moan.

“Buggy. . .”

Fuck, your whine did something.

However he doesn’t want to cum before you do, so he holds back for just a bit so he can tail his hand in between the both of you to map tight circles on your clit.

Now your body trembles as the coil in your stomach snaps in half, and your walls clench around him

He finally lets himself roll his head back, muttering intangible swears, riding his hips up into you, his whole body tenses.

His cum jerks into your spasming pussy, you whine at the feeling too dazed to worry about any repercussions of this.

He rocks your hips along him, riding out the final moments of your orgasm before slumping back on the chair.

Both of you are breathing heavily, but you find that your ‘mission’ was a outstanding success as you see a genuinely but hazy grin from your now completely relaxed captain.

Maybe those nobodies stealing the map weren’t so bad.

#opla buggy #op buggy #buggy smut #buggy x reader #fem reader #one piece #one piece smut #one piece x reader #buggy nation #Here ya go you filly animals ((i love you))#I am embarrassed to post this #opla #opla smut

4K notes · View notes

lisired · 2 months

Text

can you keep it down?

pairing: neighbor!mark x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)

summary: The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.

word count: 10.4k

a/n: 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!

The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door.

It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed.

Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s.

He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you.

“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”

For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses.

When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”

He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”

“You, too.”

And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole.

But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father.

That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor.

Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you rationalized yourself and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list.

The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe.

Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast.

You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?”

Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.”

With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since.

“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?”

Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”

He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.

Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.”

Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys.

That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that flushed red when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor.

Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”

“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly.

He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”

That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”

Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”

“Must be fun.”

“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”

You chuckled. “Amen to that.”

It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests.

Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence.

Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”

“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions.

“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.”

You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base.

But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time.

That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.

For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of.

Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it.

Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges.

The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it.

“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking.

Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.”

“I kind of like it.”

He snickered. “Only kinda?”

More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter.

He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident.

So was he.

“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?”

There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former.

“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”

Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?”

Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge.

Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence.

Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship.

“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.”

You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.”

“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused.

What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”

Was. That meant not any more.

Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”

“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough.

You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?”

“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”

Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”

“Then, stop deflecting.”

With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist.

As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily.

You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces.

A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable.

You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait.

Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”

Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow.

Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction.

But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.

Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about.

One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”

“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”

Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”

“Just turned six about a week ago.”

“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”

He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart.

You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”

Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?”

“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.”

Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?”

There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.”

Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?”

You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.”

“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.”

You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him.

It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal.

You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait.

Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways.

He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”

“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”

There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?”

You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?”

“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?”

Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment.

“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time.

Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.”

You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly.

At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were.

Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.

Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?”

“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”

Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it.

As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing.

You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.”

“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing.

After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free.

It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice.

“You never answered my question that day.”

“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”

Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?”

“About you, or in general?”

He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”

You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.”

“Why blue?”

“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked.

“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?”

“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.”

Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze.

But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew.

“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”

“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement.

You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”

“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare.

“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.”

“And that’s what gets you going?”

“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted.

Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you.

Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt.

“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.

Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.”

“Lake?”

He smiled. “You’ll see.”

You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you.

There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food.

“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head.

Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.”

“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.”

“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.”

You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!”

Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture.

There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away.

Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.”

Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist.

The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.

And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood.

Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point.

When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your despires were no longer pure wants - they were needs.

“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.”

Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?”

You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”

That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal.

Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.”

You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?”

“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.”

“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.

Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”

“I never said that.”

“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased.

You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.”

Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.”

You giggled.

Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever.

But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted.

Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly.

For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind.

Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence.

It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion.

When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down.

“Had fun last night?”

Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.”

Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind.

Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win.

The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency.

Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might.

“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.”

He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.”

“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?”

You sighed. “I do.”

Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.”

“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you.

The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.”

Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you.

“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.”

Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb.

Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom.

By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.”

He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.”

Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it.

You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would.

The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long.

His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part.

“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned.

“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening.

He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck.

Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.”

In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent.

The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner.

He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time.

That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out.

“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more.

Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close.

When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag.

“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”

You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.

He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.”

Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment.

Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much.

Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”

As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed.

You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage.

There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile.

You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.”

You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.”

“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”

Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.”

Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”

One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like.

His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.”

“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”

“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”

“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.”

Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”

His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck.

“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working.

Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps.

The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn.

That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.

You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts.

Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled.

“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.��

Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch.

“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere.

Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?”

“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size.

In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.

This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job.

But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did.

“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already.

Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel.

Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”

Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.”

When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his.

Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name.

He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”

That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch.

“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer.

Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time.

There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much.

Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness.

Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full.

“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.”

There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.

You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass.

Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t.

Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?”

“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing.

There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars.

Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily.

“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?”

You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”

Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?”

“I was not screaming.”

“You were screaming. And…,”

Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving.

“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away.

Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”

You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”

Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.”

Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof.

He was your temptation.

#mark smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #mark lee x reader #nct imagines #mark lee imagines #mark lee smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

1K notes · View notes

anantaru · 2 months

Note

heizou would definitely hold hands while fucking u senseless 💯

including. heizou, neuvillette

synopsis. hands holding while fucking a/n. i added neuvillette because i luv him and damn the hand holding trope <3 JUST FUCKS SO WELL

cw. [ex]plicit, fem! reader

— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱

it’s powerful, streams upon streams of pleasure pinching at your sore skin, and without surprise, it was due to heizou, naturally it was.

because he was there, on top of you, famished, towering on top of your needful frame— kissing and caressing your skin which was covered in salty pearls of sweat as you desperately cream around his cock.

his hand had been intertwined in yours throughout it all, he wouldn't let go of it, you know? and as heizou kisses your lips softly, he pushes his hips closer into your sensitive warmth as he squeezes your hand, "you're so pretty," he smiles, eagerly, as his tip rubs among your swelling places as it's practically molding into you.

you're hanging on every word that was spoken about, your eyes suddenly knocking into the back of your head as you're breathing heavily once heizou starts to move himself in and out in a much faster pace— swift yet continuously precise, and ah well, he was always watching and taking note, memorizing the racing pulse emitting from your body.

despite the roughness of how the detective was handling you, you notice the slight twinkle in his eyes, or a glowing cast of something much deeper— aside from that, it doesn't matter how fast and rough heizou would become, the soft touch on your hand was ultimately clouding your vision, and soon enough he resumes with the sloppy thrusts in you.

you felt the realness of the moment stilling the air, the rawness of two people loving each other, both soul and body alike.

it was beyond explaining it, because listen carefully now, heizou so desperately wanted to hold onto this for as long as he could, on to your hand and squeeze it ever so often to signalize you that he was, in fact, always making sure you're okay.

— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱

by how strong neuvillette holds and squishes your hand, you can tell how close he was to coming undone, preferably he loved when you allowed him to spill himself inside— and a cascading look briefly flashes in his clouded gaze when he looks at you.

he slides his tongue into your mouth soon after with a groan following, his wet muscle lazily tangling with yours as he tentatively grinds his cock into your warm cunt.

sweetness saturates his features when you squeeze his hand tighter, your hips beginning to meet his sloppy thrusts as the consistent heat multiplies and wanders from your stomach to your cunt, crushing your muscles and veins until your entire frame was engulfed in the vigorous swings of heat gyrating through it.

it's so powerful that you could feel your heart beating in your ears, even notice small thuds on your wet cunt, and before you can brace yourself to take yet another deep thrust tickling the tastiest, most delicate places in your cunt, neuvillette grins with a quiet satisfaction, pursuing mischief, slowly bending his head to claim a fond kiss that only he was allowed to claim.

you sigh, ever so hot, ever so kind, and the moan you let out next was just so beautiful that he gave your hand a good squeeze, your body arching in a lewd stretch beneath him as your warm walls swallow him hard, his erection throbbing at the sensual action of your body showing him how much it desperately craved him.

yet his hands are continuously holding tightly onto yours, neuvillette would never let it go.

#genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #heizou x reader #heizou smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #heizou x you #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x you

2K notes · View notes

silkjade · 9 months

Text

alhaitham x mermaid! reader (3.5)

⤀ cw: afab!reader, first time (w. him), lots of teasing, cunnilingus, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, lil bit of size kink + overstim, creampie, fluff???, true love but they don't know it yet — mdni || ꒰ 6.2k wc ꒱ a/n: recommended to read the previous part first, but it can stand alone as well ! hope u enjoy my smut debut + reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡ next ﾉ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

When you had taken him up on his half conscious, pseudo challenge to visit Sumeru City, Alhaitham never imagined you’d cause him so much trouble. It’s not in the sense that you’d drawn too much unwanted attention, or that you’d spent his mora on frivolous things. No, it was your lack of understanding for the human notions of shame and intimacy.

He’s never entirely sure of just how nuanced the unabashed things you say and do are. You’re shameless whenever you’d ask him for compliments point-blank, or when you’d waltz out of the bathroom only half-dressed in his clothes. Other times, you’d surprise him with words so naively honest, brush against him in ways that feel far too tender.

To his dismay, it’s becoming increasingly clear that your actions always come with a price—one that he pays, not with mora, but with his dignity. Much like the smooth caress of the waters you came from, it’s all seemingly harmless, but the depths of your intentions remain aggravatingly unknown. Especially when your very presence is enough to enfold all his senses in a lull of desire.

He runs a hand through his hair before turning the knob of his bedroom door, only to find you in your human form, lounging on his bed, lazily flipping through one of his books. The robe you wear is one of his; too large on your frame, with the silky material falling off your shoulders, dangerously close to revealing too much.

Not that it isn’t a welcome sight—he is a man after all. And while he prides himself on his exceptional self control, it becomes an issue when he feels himself grow hot and the loose clothes he likes to wear at home begins to feel too tight. He can’t rub one out while you’re here, so perhaps a cold shower might ease his condition…

But you’re more perceptive than he’s given you credit for.

“It’s not as magnificent as my tail, but this body is still quite impressive isn’t it?”

“I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you.”

…

“Well, I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone like me at all.” You flash him an amused smile, but the sultry look in your eyes relay a different message entirely. He can’t lie, it excites him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he mumbles under his breath. To his chagrin, your curious hum cuts through the room and he hears the heavy thud of a book slammed shut.

Of course you heard him. With renewed interest, you swing your legs over the edge of his bed, sauntering over until you’re close enough that he can smell the faint scent of his mint shampoo in your hair.

“Oh? What could I possibly be doing to you?” Your fingers walk up his body, slowly, from his toned stomach to his chiseled chest, leaving his skin hot through the fabric of his clothes, “Won’t you enlighten me?”

You look up, that wide-eyed gaze of feigned innocence flickering into something sharp and dangerously seductive. A hand settles on his shoulder, pulling him in until you’re close enough that your lips are only a hair’s breadth away from his sensitive ears. The other reaches down and ghosts against his obviously growing bulge, before pressing down, palming him through his pants. Alhaitham bites back a groan.

“Or rather, what would you like to do to me?” Your voice rings low and smooth as silk to his ears. It leaves a wave of desire to bubble in the pit of his stomach, one that doubles down on the dull ache at his crotch.

His mind sifts through a thousand thoughts. Lascivious thoughts, sinful, perverted thoughts that only seem to make their presence known when in your company. Just one glance down at you and he can see how ridiculously easy it would be to untie the lazy knot that’s hardly holding your—no—his robe together.

“I…”

It’s hard to think when you overwhelm all his senses, poking at the urges he has so carefully suppressed up until now. His robe, his scent. He’s no fool to the way Sumeru City ogles at you—the mysterious stranger who’s able to so casually hang onto the aloof scribe’s arm. It only makes him want to stake his claim across the empty canvas of your skin as well: his mermaid. Perhaps just this once, he’ll let himself indulge in his own selfish desires.

“Come on, Scribe Alhaitham,” you emphasize,“use your words.”

A smug smile forms on your face as you calculate the risks of your next words.

“Although…if you’ve got nothing to say, why don’t you just show me,” you press close, voice deceptively soft. “I’m more of a hands-on learner anyway.”

For once, Alhaitham lets his body override all sense of rationality, flipping your positions, and pinning you against the wall as he captures your mouth in his. It’s uncharacteristically sloppy and haphazard, with none of the craftiness he displayed on that first and only night you kissed, but it’s intoxicating all the same.

His teeth graze against your bottom lip, demanding entrance, and you’re forced to grasp onto his toned bicep to keep yourself steady as you devour each other with the intensity of all your repressed thoughts. With every second his mouth remains slotted on yours, with every inhale and exhale of breath you exchange, you think that this time, you’re the one who might drown.

He finally tosses you a lifeline once he decides to leave the vicinity of your mouth, and begin his campaign across the rest of your body, starting with the little spot right along the underside of your jaw. Alhaitham takes his time trailing down your neck, catching you off guard when he stops to suck down, hard, on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

An involuntary gasp escapes, and you can feel him smirk against you, though it quickly fades into a half strangled groan when your hips roll into his. He only continues downward from here, carving kisses into your body and leaving behind colorful little bruises that send liquid fire running through your veins. The further he goes, the more he must uncover, and the only thing standing in his way is the robe you’re hardly wearing.

“Can I…?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, fingers already toying with the sash.

“Not like you haven’t seen everything already,” you mutter, pulling his face in to kiss him again.

His free hand snakes down to squeeze your ass while the other tugs on the loose knot, the silky material now free to tumble down your body like a waterfall, hitting every curve along the way. In one fell swoop, Alhaitham takes you to his bed, picking up right where he left off: with a depraved kiss that speaks more than he ever could in relaying the underlying lust that clouds his mind.

“Beautiful.” The word slips out without a second thought. It’s the first time he's ever said it outright. Beneath the fervor, there’s a special sentiment that cushions his tone. It has you buzzing with warmth from the inside out, but whether it’s contentment or embarrassment, you don’t know. Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze.

He finds it infinitely amusing that for all your openly brazen flirtations…

“You’re not getting shy on me now, are you?”

You respond by stubbornly grappling at the edge of his shirt, nails grazing against his muscled abdomen in the process. The startling sensation crackles through his nerves, sending his cockhead twitching in delight.

“It’s only fair I get to see you too,” you mumble, in what little time you have between kisses. Alhaitham pulls away, a brow quirked in mild amusement. Pausing, he takes this chance to drink in the sight of your naked figure for the second time, though tonight there’s no need to look away.

It’s exhilaratingly surreal to see your body marked by the undeniable testaments of his touch. It manifests on your skin, where you’re decorated with clusters of little bruises signed by his lips. In your chest, as it heaves for air after all the breaths he’s stolen from right out of your lungs. It persists in the way your eyes draw him in, inviting him, daring him to do more. In how your lips, though slightly swollen, wear the same coquettish grin that’s enchanted him time and again. With no other choice but to surrender to your demands, Alhaitham lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side without a care.

You’ve always thought the man to be handsome, but you’re left wonderstruck as your eyes wander across his bare skin. It’s not like his usual attire leaves much to the imagination, but Alhaitham undressed, is still a sight to see. His toned chest and sculpted stomach, well defined arms… Chiseled by the gods themselves, you think as the corner of your lips quirk just the slightest bit upwards.

“Enjoying the view?” It’s funny how much his smug smile contrasts with the mottled pink that colors his shoulders and dusts across his cheeks. His skin only flushes more when you trace a finger over the gem on his chest, tantalizingly slow as you make your way down his sternum, and only stopping to lightly flick at one of his nipples. Alhaitham’s breath hitches and you can practically see his muscles as they tense.

“Very much,” you answer, hands sinking lower. “So won’t you show me more?”

He catches you by your wrist when he feels you tugging at his waistband, and it takes everything for him to ignore the wanton desperation that’s quickly clouding his mind. It’s difficult, but out of sheer will, he manages to hold back, if only by a thread.

Gently, he pulls your chin up to face him. Want hides beneath his teal gaze, but there’s a softness that truly shines through, encapsulating the delicate balance between risk and reward.

His hands shift to caress your cheek, before he moves in to steal another kiss. This time it’s sweeter, more chaste. Alhaitham kisses you slow and passionate, interwoven with a tenderness that causes your heart to swell in your chest.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Your resounding ‘yes’ breathes a renewed ardor into his actions as he lowers you onto your back. Little by little, he makes his way down your body, leaving wet kisses everywhere except where you want him most. A kiss here, a lick there—the heat that pools in your belly only grows by the second, but a harsh suck right below your hip causes your breath to hitch and your cunt to drool more in response while you whine and attempt to rub your legs together for any sort of friction.

They are, however, aptly spread back apart when he hooks his arms beneath your thighs and pulls you closer to where he kneels at the edge of the bed.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, “and we’ve only just begun.” Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle as he presses another kiss to your inner thigh. It’s enough to have you shivering in anticipation, the reverberating tremors of his deep voice going straight to your pulsing hole, wet with the slick of your arousal. One of his hands moves to hold you down as you jolt when his teeth graze against the delicate skin.

“Will you please just hurry up,” you’re barely able to get all your words out before your voice breaks into a breathless gasp as he takes you by surprise, dipping his head down to lick a long stripe up your glistening folds and flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue once he reaches the top.

Talented in more ways than just words, you find out firsthand exactly how good he is with his tongue. Like a man starved, he laps up all you have to give, while your gushing hole happily churns out more slick. But it isn’t nearly enough. Especially not with the way you’re grinding into his face and singing praises to his name.

Alhaitham doesn’t consider himself an arrogant man, but he’s never loved hearing the sound of his own name more. It falls through your lips in a trail of whimpers, your pretty little cries music to his ears, delicate and lyrical. His tongue prods at your entrance, occasionally dipping into your warmth, and as he closes in, his nose bumps against your puffy clit. It has you keening, and your hands come flying to tangle in his ashen hair as your voice splits into a sharp gasp.

He takes a mental note of your reaction before moving to suckle on the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing out another beautifully broken sob. With every exhale, and every swipe of his tongue, Alhaitham breathes life into your cunt—leaving it to drip with arousal and clench around nothing. Your fingers curl in his tresses and you tug hard. The low groan he emits reverberates through your body; the rumbling vibrations of his own pleasure sends you crawling to your high.

But he soon pulls away and you’re quick to let out a pitched cry in protest. He peers up from between your parted thighs, sharp eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you squirming at the loss of contact.

“Haitham,” you whine pitifully, hips blindly stuttering in search of his touch, “don’t stop.”

Oh how the tables have turned. Before him, your tiny hole clamps around nothing and a sly grin creeps onto his face, devilishly handsome and glistening with your essence that so freely drips down his chin. You’ve teased him relentlessly during the span of your partnership, and as per your logic, it’s only fair he gets to do the same.

“Beg for it,” he purrs. His warm breath fans across your folds, sending you into a frenzied fluster from the bottom up, and you feel as if you’re going to melt.

“P-please…” It’s difficult to come up with any words, much less the right words, to say when the overwhelmingly wanton desire for him to just touch you again, has your brain enveloped in a thick haze. “Need you…Haitham please…”

His name, entangled within the sweet pleas that fall from your lips, has his cock twitching again, eager to be freed from the constraints of his pants. But if he can ignore the wet spot forming from his own precum, then he can do the same to the way his hips seem to move on their own, slowly rutting against the bed. He’s a patient man, he can wait. You on the other hand…

You’re so needy for him, so lost trying to chase your own pleasure, that it doesn’t even register when he wets two fingers in his mouth, unable to process anything until you feel the faint stretch in your cunt that has you trembling in anticipation. His fingers slide easily into your creamy insides, and he only watches in amusement at the way your hips buck, silently begging him for something more than the painfully slow, lazy way he’s pumping in and out of you.

“You’re already so tight...” He lets out a breathy chuckle as he scissors you open, resisting the way your velvety walls come down, hugging every inch of the digits inside you. “How are you even going to take me, hm?”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing ever comes out, save for the faint breath of a moan that manages to escape. If you were in the right state of mind, you would’ve been sure to fire back something smart, however, your thoughts have been reduced to fixate on Alhaitham, who’s rather keen on keeping it that way.

He moves his wrist, twisting and turning, relentlessly searching until the pads of his fingers press against a spot just right, that it has your toes curling and back arching off the bed in a loud cry. He curls his fingers, bullying the spongy spot until echoes of your melodic mewls are undeniably present amongst the lewd squelching of your wetness. It sends him reeling and growing impossibly harder—oh how he so adores the way you unravel before him.

Your body runs hotter than ever and you feel the coil in your belly tighten, ready to snap. You’re going to cum. You’re so close. Just a little more. It repeats like a mantra in your head, but your impending climax dissipates as he draws both fingers back out, leaving you dangling at the precipice with a distressed wail, frustration pathetically painted across your face.

Why did he just do that? Your eyes are large and laced with tears that quiver and threaten to spill down your face. Ignoring your futile attempt at garnering pity, Alhaitham only continues to taunt you.

“Will you look at that?” he says, toying with the messy slick that glosses over his middle and index fingers like webbing, stretching and breaking along to the movements of his hand. It’s such damning evidence of how much you need him, but it’s also somehow mesmerizing, so much so that you’re unable to look away. It doesn’t help that your sopping cunt only weeps more at the sight, absentmindedly fluttering around nothing.

He drags you out of your thoughts as he unexpectedly takes your clit back into his mouth. His hot tongue swirls around your bud, effectively setting your veins on fire, then takes the chance to throw your earlier words back at you.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” he says, mouth never leaving the little nub.

You want him to make you cum, is what you want to say—or rather, you want him to let you cum, considering how he so cruelly ruined your earlier orgasm. But it all only translates into a litany of unintelligible whimpers, and Alhaitham smiles, the mischief twinkling in his eyes now glaringly apparent. He can’t help how endearing it is, that you, who always has so much to say, is now struggling to answer even the simplest of questions.

“Use your words. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“I want… I need…” you’re only able to make out a few words in between your ragged breaths before you’re interrupted by your own broken sob as he sucks down hard on your abused clit.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Want to cum… ” you choke out, eyes sliding shut as you try again with your best efforts.

The latter half of your sentence warps until it rises an octave and melts into a shaky moan. Alhaitham barely gives you just enough time to finish before three lithe fingers find their way into your cunt without warning, slipping past your wet folds with ease. The dull pain of an added finger stuffed into your tiny hole, has you keening, your own knuckles turning white from your steel grip on the bed sheets.

With a sweep of his tongue, he laves over your swollen clit again, sending shivers through to your core as you feel the tension return in your abdomen, this time wound even tighter from the way he continues to fuck your already sensitive cunt.

“ ‘m so close… please,” your breath catches in your throat as you whimper and squirm. “Please Haitham, please-”

It’s beyond his own belief how he managed to wrangle you into his bed; the beautiful mermaid who had first tried to drown him, who was always so outspoken and bold— now reduced to a begging, whimpering mess on his sheets. For that, he mentally pats himself on the back and decides to take pity on you.

“Come on, mermaid. Let me hear you sing.”

Immediately, you feel his fingers curl, right up against the very spot that has you seeing stars, exactly as he had intended. He drags his teeth carefully, lightly grazing your swollen clit, effectively ripping out a loud, visceral scream as you finally tip over the edge in an earth shattering orgasm.

Waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Alhaitham finger fucks you through your high, vigilantly hitting that sweet, spongy spot over and over again without mercy. You’re left quivering, fingers desperately grasping at the bed sheets, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. His hand, the one that isn’t three knuckles deep inside you, moves to hold your hips down as they twitch in the settling overstimulation.

A satisfied hum rumbles in the back of his throat as he finishes off with an easy kiss to your inner thigh. He finally slows down his movements as you ride out your high, though the shallow, wet noises as he rocks his fingers in and out of you, seem all the more erotic against the backdrop of your dissipating cries.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he coos. “Such a pretty thing—so gorgeous when you cum for me.” Alhaitham continues to whisper sweet flatteries that have you preening until he feels you clench weakly around his fingers once more. He raises a brow, the beginnings of a small smirk forming on his face.

“Of course you like to be praised.” Despite the lilt in his voice, he draws his soiled digits out with care, though you still shudder as he passes through your sensitive folds.

“Shut up.”

Even as you sit up to catch your breath, your eyes wander over to the man’s bare upper body, before they drift down to the impressive tent bulging from his pants. Suddenly, you’re made painfully aware of how utterly empty you are. Arousal pulses through you, once again dripping out of your cunt at the thought of being stuffed full.

Your obvious staring doesn’t go unnoticed; and neither does the way you shift as you’re rubbing your thighs together for more friction. Your shamelessly perverse act only reinforces the thrum in his already rock hard cock.

“Open up.” You do as you’re told, intuitively wrapping your lips around his long fingers, cheeks hollowing as you clean off the mess you had left. It spurs him on, the way you hold his gaze with those large doe eyes, blinking so lasciviously when he draws them back out, leaving behind a trail of saliva that snaps like gossamer on your lips.

“What, haven’t had enough of me yet?” He teases you, yet the slight waver in his voice as he struggles to mask just how much he’d like to cum right then and there, says otherwise.

“Not nearly enough.”

Your playful wit is nothing new to him. And while Alhaitham considers himself to be quite well versed in how you love to play coy, an expert in navigating around your flirtations—he’s far from immune to your coquettish displays. He’s only human after all…

So it’s no fault of his own that you drive him absolutely insane.

Pupils blown wide and dilated with lust, he dips down until you can feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear, “I hope you don’t regret that.” His smooth baritone sends a shiver down your spine until it pools between your already sticky thighs, a vague promise of what’s to come.

Before you know it, he catches you in another eager kiss, rough and hopelessly greedy, as you fall back onto the mattress without a care. It only heightens your sense of urgency that he can’t help but grind into you.

His normal attire barely hides his bulge, but even underneath these loose clothes, the outline of his cock stands tall and unmistakably erect against the fabric—which you desperately need removed now, as you fumble with the waistband. Alhaitham chuckles lightly into the kiss before pulling away. Message received.

He moves quickly, pants and underwear hastily thrown to the side and forgotten, because how could you possibly think of anything else when he stands before you, hands fisted around his magnificent cock, grunting at the little ounce of relief as he gives himself a few quick pumps. Precum dribbles from the flushed pink tip and your eyes follow as he spreads it along the impressive length. You can’t help but think that it’s… pretty. And oh how you adore pretty things.

He lines himself up at your entrance, cockhead just barely dipping inside as he hovers over you, and for the first time tonight, you realize just how incredibly vulnerable you are now, laid bare before him, ripe for the taking. But it’s okay if it’s him. Whether it’s the fuzziness mulling in your head, or your cunt that’s thinking for you, anything is fine as long as it’s Alhaitham.

Above you, he swallows harshly and you can see the slow bob of his throat as he does so. “Tell me if you need to stop,” he murmurs. The rasp in his voice makes it apparent that it’s taking every ounce of fortitude not to just slam his entire length into you.

The first hiccupped gasp that escapes your lips has him smiling smugly as he pushes in, splitting you open with ease from how wet you are. But the stretch as you struggle to accommodate his girth burns despite your previous preparation; he’s just so much bigger than his fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, he stretches you wider, whispering sweet nothings while he stuffs you full of his cock.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises, though it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Every time you think he’s done, he only continues to push further inside. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him and drawing out a choked curse that rolls tactlessly off his tongue. There’s no helping the way his self control fades when you’re squeezing him like that, your needy cunt intent on sucking him all the way in.

“Fuck,” he rasps. It’s foreign and depraved and so vulgar compared to his usually eloquent speech—not that it isn't also incredibly attractive hearing him lose his composure like that—but it’s even more so especially because you’re the one making him feel this good. Your heart flutters at the thought and the vibrations of another muffled grunt ripple against your skin when you reflexively bear down again.

Alhaitham bottoms out in one final push, sending you reeling at how the thickest end of his shaft forces your little hole to stretch even wider to accommodate the width. A hitched cry leaves your throat and your arms fly to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as he presses soothing kisses along your jaw, though it does little to quell the heat rapidly igniting throughout your body.

“Are you alright?” There isn’t an ounce of teasing in his tone when he pauses to glance down, giving you a moment to adjust while ensuring you’re okay.

Your hum of approval is all he needs to start moving in languid strokes that fill you to the brim, his shallow thrusts so lewdly squelching to the tune of your wetness. Each slow drag of his cock forces you to feel very ridge and vein as he grinds back and forth, pulling soft mewls out of you until they melt into breathless whines pleading for something more.

“Faster… f-faster please.”

Who was he to deny you, when you’ve been taking him so well? Sliding ever so slowly, Alhaitham all but pulls out, leaving only the very tip of his cock to kiss your entrance. You don’t even have time to process the jarring emptiness before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust, powerful enough to send your entire body jostling from the impact. Your back arches in pleasure, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your mouth falls agape, the sound dying before it’s ever able to leave your throat.

Alhaitham is relentless when he starts fucking you in earnest. The gentleness from earlier is gone, replaced by the callous way he repeatedly pounds into you, burying himself to the hilt every single time. He’s hitting depths you never thought possible, with each thrust sending shockwaves that ripple through you until it scrambles your mind, shattering that last piece of lucidity stubbornly holding you together.

“That’s it. Take it, just like that,” he coos, but you're too fogged over to comprehend his words. It’s clear your mind is currently occupied by other matters; matters such as the chant of his name atop your long string of strangled cries.

He revels at how pliant you are underneath him—so stimulated and keening out in pleasure at everything he does, greedy cunt eagerly swallowing every inch he offers, pulling him in with every snap of his hips.

His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on the nub while he twirls the other between his fingers, groaning when your nails dig into his shoulders, imprinting crescents onto his skin. The added stimulation elicits another set of frantic whimpers, and the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns.

“Haitham I’m… I’m so…” Close, he deducts. He can tell by the way your walls close around him.

Half of him wants to watch you struggle with your words in between all your panting and moaning, wants to withhold your sweet release until you can speak properly while he continues to piston in and out of you. The other half, driven by his wanton throbbing, slides a hand over the curve of your ass, lifting your leg to angle himself just right before plunging deep inside you, hitting that same spot from before that had you seeing stars.

Loud, broken sobs tear through the room as his tip mercilessly drills into the spongy spot with pinpoint precision. Your nails rake down his back, and a sharp hiss manages to escape from his lips. It only fuels him more, makes his movements more erratic. Over and over, hit after hit, Alhaitham delivers an exhilarating pleasure that drives you to the edge of delirium. Warmth blooms in the pit of your stomach threatening to spill over and seep into every crevice of your being.

It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s not enough. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take.

“I can feel you falling apart around me.” The corners of his mouth lift in a smug grin, ignoring the fact that his voice comes out in ragged huffs, uneven from his labored breathing.

There’s no use denying how much you affect him as well— not when fire licks his body, coloring his pale skin flush. Nor when his expression is clearly strained, trying so desperately to hold on to his crumbling composure. You’d notice if you still had the capacity to process anything at all, but alas…

He lowers his head into the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the tender skin before switching to your native tongue. “C’mon my beautiful mermaid… give it to me. Cum for me.”

The white hot bliss that sweeps across your body is maddening and it leaves you absolutely shattered. The vibrato in your voice cracks as you scream and sob, body going impossibly taut. You’re desperately gasping for air, drowning in the waves of euphoria that wash over you, but it pulls you in and drags you further down into delirium. You can’t think, you can’t speak. You can’t stop the trembling in your thighs and you can’t stop your cunt from spasming as he continues to fuck into you.

His pace slows but his strokes are longer and deeper, as if he’s trying to ingrain himself permanently within your walls. Your moans rise in pitch, turning to whimpers when his thrusts continue past your orgasm and into the settling overstimulation, his cock still taking from you where there’s no more to take.

You’ve never felt more like a paradox than you do now. Your head is the clouds, while your body feels heavier than ever. You’re painfully sensitive, squirming to get away as he chases his own release, yet your cunt still pulses and begs to milk his fat cock dry.

Weak arms reach up to cup his face, pulling him in for a lasting kiss, breathing him in like the air you so desperately need in your lungs. When you pull away, your eyes are so dazed and lidded, not yet recovered from the intensity of your orgasm, but already prickling with tears from the burn of overstimulation.

“Make me yours.”

Alhaitham buries his head in the crook of your neck; there’s no hope of keeping up his composure now. In fact, it’s a wonder he didn’t come from those words alone. You already are, he tells himself. There’s nobody else he could ever want; nobody else could ever compare to how perfect you are for him.

With a few final thrusts, he presses his weight into you and sinks his cock as deep as he can. He lets out a tattered moan and his hips stutter as he follows you over the edge, the warmth of his hot cum spilling into your insides.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind: Maybe you want to stay like this forever. So warm and tingly and speared open in all consuming pleasure.

His body slumps against yours, relaxed and utterly at peace. In the numbing midst of his high, Alhaitham’s mind is for once, a couple beats slower than his palpitating heart.

“I love you.”

He wasn’t thinking when it had slipped out of his mouth. The words came so naturally, rolled off his tongue so easily. It’s too late by the time he realizes just what he’s said; he hopes to god you didn’t hear him, but it’s the only thing you catch amongst all the white noise. He loves you. Alhaitham loves you.

It replays on a loop inside your head but your jumbled mess of a brain can only process so much right now. “Love… you…” you barely manage to scrape out. He quiets your empty babbles with another kiss, muffling your whines as he gently—though reluctantly—pulls out of your embrace. You shudder and whine at the loss.

“Easy now,” he soothes, distracting you with praises and soft pecks to your temples. To you, the emptiness in your cunt feels all too foreign, but he can’t help but stare at the lecherous sight of your combined fluids dripping out of your hole. He can already picture it in his head; the wet noise of your slick and his cum, all shoved back into you so that not a single drop is wasted…

Alhaitham shakes the thought from his head, forcibly tearing his eyes away before his own mind can betray him. He excuses himself before soon returning with a glass of water and a warm, wet towel in hand.

Slowly but surely, your lungs steady, and the fog dissipates, and you’re finally able to anchor yourself back to reality. A reality where your throat is dry, hoarse from all the retrospectively embarrassing sounds he had dragged out of you, and your limbs feel so heavy, as if your bones have all but dissolved into jelly.

“Gonna clean you up, okay?”

With your permission, he helps sit you up, passing you the glass of water before he begins wiping off the excess fluid between your legs. The towel is rough against the still sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you jolt. Immediately, he utters an awkward apology, looking up to gauge your reaction.

Water, split from the sudden movement, drips down your chin. Loose pieces of hair stick to your forehead; the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin makes sure of that. To look so disheveled yet so gorgeous at the same time… you’re absolutely enchanting in the afterglow. A flicker of pride rushes through him—he did that. The proof was in the bites and bruises littered across your skin. He smiles, sheer adoration present in his eyes.

Your soft giggle breaks his train of thought. “What are you—” A yawn. “What are you looking at?” The chirp in your tone peaks just the tiniest bit out of your sleep-laden voice, but you’re too worn out to wait for an answer, opting to fall back onto the mattress instead. It’s not long before you fully yield to the exhaustion.

You look so peaceful in your sleep, so human, that he almost forgets you’re not. Still, he wonders how it would feel to hold you in his arms as he sleeps. To wake up beside you and watch as the sunlight illuminates your features.

Would it be selfish of him to indulge just a little more?

Tossing the towel aside, he joins you under the safety of his covers. He wraps an arm around your frame, pulling you close, holding you right next to where his heart beats in his chest. Alhaitham presses a soft, last kiss to the top of your head before he too, drifts off to sleep.

When morning comes and the golden sun arises, everything will return as it was. Dreams and other such wishful delights are of the moon’s sovereignty, so tonight, let him hold on to this reverie for just a little while longer.

a/n2: This was my very first smut piece so I hope you enjoyed :’) Since this is an extra chapter, I tried not to include any details that would drive the plot too much, but ending it with just a tiny bit of angst to transition to the next part. thank u for reading ! ♡

3K notes · View notes

vanderilnde · 3 months

Text

House of the Rising Sun butcher/neighbour simon x reader

The rusty knob of your shower gratingly creaks as you twist it. You look up at your showerhead, toward the sparse drops of water falling from the nozzle. How they splatter against the floor of your bathtub in quick, light taps. Dripping like a leaky faucet, emptying itself out.

Annoyance congeals under your skin. You have a meeting in an hour, for a second job somewhere north of here, and still smell like the sweat you’re sleek with from the nerves. And, naturally, your shower isn’t working.

It’s rashly undertaken desperation that pushes you out of your flat and in front of Simon’s. Clutching your towel and clothes to your chest, rasping on his door. You know he’s home—you can tell by the hum of the football match thumping behind the wall—and Simon confirms this by swinging his door open, looking down at you with his depthless, burnt eyes.

He’s wearing a mask again. And before that deep-seated urge to see him without it, to see him bare, fully consumes you, you’re blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Can I shower here?”

Simon’s brows purse together, his eyes marginally widening, and you realise how odd that sounds.

“M-mine isn’t working,” you tack on, “and I’ve got an interview in an hour.”

Simon grunts. The short, guttural sound carries an undercurrent of disapproval. “You gettin’ a second job?”

Temperately, you nod. Feel your knees grow tender as you’re dwarfed by his stature.

He throws his chin over his neck, shepherding you inside. Simon’s flat smells of salt and antiseptic, a little bitter, and is flecked with things like fishing implements and staples for hunting. A bolt-action rifle is mantled above his television. A cobweb-cracked picture frame holds a photo of four men on the coffee table, inscribed in perfunctory writing, Scottish Highlands, 2019. That makes you avert your eyes, stare at your shoes, not wanting to seem pervasive as he leads you to his restroom.

Here, you realise Simon is a red-blooded minimalist. He keeps his restroom barren, save for an eroded bar of soap on the lip of the bathtub, a two-in-one shampoo and conditioner bottle, and a shaving kit that looks stolen from an inn.

Simon recovers something from a cabinet under the sink. When he stands back up, he holds it in his hand, awkwardly curling in on himself. It’s a little unseemly to see—a man of his big stature, trying to sheepishly make himself smaller in your eyes.

“A candle,” he grunts. “I heard birds like showering’ with candles or somethin’, yeah?”

Softly, you smile. A pang of something sweet hits your chest when you see the shells of Simon’s ears turning pink, his hands fumbling in his pocket for a lighter. He sets the burning candle on the counter, then proceeds to bull-headedly stand in the middle of the bathroom, staring at you. He reminds you of a dog on guard.

You call his name and his spine straightens.

“What?”

“You need to leave when I’m showering.”

If Simon had dog ears, they’d be sagging. He twitches like he’s confused, disappointed, and only now realising you’re waiting for him to leave.

He turns and exits the bathroom.

And even when you turn the knob, stepping under the shower, you notice the hot water can’t replace the warmth Simon had taken with him.

And you also notice, that while lathering yourself in Simon’s shower, invading his space, an affinity takes hold of you. A pinprick of belonging, and, an avaricious undercurrent for wanting something more.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #cod x reader #ghost/reader #cod mw2 #simon writing #writing

1K notes · View notes

leaderwonim · 3 months

Text

SEASONS

⤻ pairing. popular!sunghoon x shy!reader (ft nishimura riki and hanni from nwjns)

⤻ genre. fluff, hints of angst, brother’s best friend to lovers trope (reader is heeseung’s sister) forbidden love kinda

⤻ synopsis. park sunghoon, the notorious playboy who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend, was off limits. heeseung had made it clear to you during your freshman year of high school, and the rule still hasn’t changed even when entering your senior year. but what lee heeseung doesn’t know won’t hurt him right?

author’s note: wrote this out of boredom after listening to seasons by wave to earth 🥹 i love that song with all my heart. riki is so unserious lmao i love him. COMMENTS & REBLOGS are always appreciated 🤞

“he’s off limits,” heeseung says as he swings by your desk, watching as you scrolled through your Instagram feed, a post of sunghoon’s passing by. “i saw you stalk him, you know.”

“i wasn’t stalking him.” you say, shooing your older brother away. “geez, have you gotten crazier since you’ve left for stanford?”

“first of all, i’m not crazy.” he flicks your forehead, deciding to be the annoying older brother he was and rummage through your things. “and i’d like to see you get into stanford yn, i really would. instead of being boy crazy with your psychotic friends.”

you roll your eyes at this, placing your phone down to look at your brother. “my friends are not psychotic. plus, your stupid rule about sunghoon started in freshman year of high school, can’t you let it go?”

“never.” heeseung steps off your bed. “i know him, yn. you don’t, you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

you blow the threat from your brother. if there’s one thing you’ve learned from living with lee heeseung your entire life was that ignoring him was easier than trying to pick a fight with him. he was stubborn as a bull.

heeseung and sunghoon became friends in the fifth grade after your family had moved, and he ignored your presence up until junior year of high school, where he ruffled your hair when you congratulated him on his graduation.

“thanks little lee,” he says, and it’s all park sunghoon has spoke to you, which hurt knowing that you’ve practically tried everything since middle school for him to acknowledge your existence.

“YN!” your mother calls from the kitchen. “oh gosh, i forgot to pack heeseung his lunch! can you drive to the university?”

your cheeks puff out, which makes riki who was currently on your phone screen, laugh.

“yah, listen to your mother lee yn,” riki snickers. “i’ll come with. i need to get out of my house anyway.”

you roll your eyes at his self invitation, hanging up as you quickly run down to grab heeseung’s lunch from your mom and your keys.

yn on top☝️

be ready in 5 nishimura, im omw

nishishi

ok.

yn on top ☝️

dry ass

“get in loser!” you call out. nishimura riki pulls his black shades down, eyebrows furrowed.

“the hell you call me?” he jokes, opening your passenger car door.

he starts to buckle his seatbelt as you drive, taking a sip from your stanley. “so why are you so excited? wait—i know why. you get to see park sunghoon in action!”

“yah!” you slap his shoulder with your free hand, turning the music a bit louder so you couldn’t hear him.

“oh don’t turn up the music because you can’t handle the truth. you just wanna see your brother’s hot best friend.”

“can you blame a girl?” you say, lips out in a pout. “maybe now that i’m 18, they’ll take me seriously.”

“nobody takes you seriously, y/n.”

“nishimura riki, you have 5 minutes to get out my car.”

turns out, nishimura riki did not get outside of your car. for a boy who was on the varsity track and swim team of your high school, he refused to walk the 3 miles that was left to go to the university.

“you almost forgot his lunch idiot,” riki laughs, handing heeseung’s lunch to you. “imagine you approach sunghoon thinking you’re all cool and then he asks why you’re here and you don’t even have your brothers lunch to defend you.”

“do you always wish death upon me?” you give him the stink eye, pulling him by his hands.

“little lee, did not expect to see you here.”

you knew that voice from anywhere, and you were almost afraid to turn around to face the owner of it.

“yah little lee, i’m talking to you.” it was park sunghoon in all his glory, his hair sitting all nice and pretty as he waits for your response.

“oh! uh—where’s heeseung?”

“ouch,” sunghoon places a hand over his chest. “i greet you and the first thing you ask is where’s your brother.”

riki cackles loudly, so loud that you want to slam his mouth shut and pretend you don’t know him.

“hi park sunghoon,” he greets, extending his hand.

although sunghoon finds the tall boy a bit of a cutie by his baby face, the way he was holding onto your hand made him already seem like a threat, so sunghoon’s expression is pursed into a poker face.

“heeseung is down at the corridor,” sunghoon says, turning back to you. “do you want me to give him that?”

you nod shyly, handing the lunch to sunghoon who smiles. “aish, the kid got into stanford and he’s still making his mom make his lunch?”

you could feel riki’s hand loosen from yours, his attention caught on two students who were currently dancing on the other side of campus.

“be right back!” he exclaims, running off to watch them.

“this jerk,” you whisper underneath your breath, smiling when you make eye contact with sunghoon again.

“he’s quite the character, isn’t he?” sunghoon questions. “who is he?”

he says that in such a bitter taste that makes your stomach flip, wondering why he was suddenly upset.

“nishimura riki, he transferred to hybe high from japan just this year. he’s really sweet but very chaotic.”

“ah,” sunghoon clicks his tongue. “is he your boyfriend?”

your words almost get caught in your throat, obviously shocked by sunghoon’s straightforward question. “what?! no!”

“oh,” he smiles. “that’s good little lee.”

“you should just call me y/n,” you groan. “little lee sounds so stupid.”

“it’s not stupid,” sunghoon says, flicking his hand. “it’s cute.”

“really?”

“like you.”

before you could even process it, riki’s already running back to the two of you, excitedly telling you about the amazing dance program stanford has to offer.

“let’s go! i have to go home and submit an application to stanford!”

sunghoon raises an eyebrow at the excited tall boy who was currently grabbing you, sending you a small wave and smirk when your eyes plead for him to rescue you.

“see you soon little lee.”

“YAH! ARE YOU AN IDIOT?”

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IT WAS AN ACCIDENT?!”

you were currently scolding the japanese boy for ruining your chances with sunghoon earlier.

“it is not my fault lee yn!” he says, puffing out his chest. “plus, the dancers say there’s a party this weekend at stanford and they’ll sneak us in. we have to go, you can see sunghoon hyung again and i can see them!”

you pursed your mouth into a thin line, riki awaiting anxiously for your answer.

“let’s say i do wanna go, heeseung would never let me go to a college party, especially not with a boy like you!”

riki clasps his hand over his chest and pretends to fall over in pain on your bed. “how could you say that?! i’m a great guy. cmon yn, you can’t let your older brother dictate your entire life, you’re 18 now!”

although riki has said a million of stupid things, he was right about this. you were eighteen, and you didn’t need your older brother ruining your chances of getting a boyfriend.

“okay,” you say, watching as riki’s eyes lit up. “let’s go. who are your dancer friends?”

the weekend had came by quicker than you thought, and you waited until heeseung said his goodbyes to you so you could get dressed and do your makeup.

although you didn’t want to go overboard with the whole thing, you still wanted to impress sunghoon, because after all, there would be a bunch of prettier college girls at the party that were smarter than you in everything.

“wow.” nishimura riki’s mouth drops as he sees your dress and face. “you clean up nice lee yn!”

“thanks ri,” you ruffle his hair, which he swats away in annoyance. “let’s go, heeseung’s already there.”

“great, so are my dancer friends!”

the two of you blended in easily, riki’s height doing both of you a favor as you held hands and made your way through the crowd of dancing and drinking college students.

“little lee?” your face bumps into sunghoon’s chest, and you almost gulp when you look up at his height. “what the hell are you doing here?”

“well that’s my queue to leave!” riki chuckles nervously, throwing you a lazy thumbs up as he runs to the drink cooler.

“never will understand that kid.” sunghoon mutters under his breath. “but seriously y/n, it can be dangerous, why are you here?”

it’s the first time in forever that he’s addressed you by your first name, and you can’t help but feel giddy.

overconfident by the drinks you had pregamed with riki previously, you find yourself leaning closer to park sunghoon. “i came here for you.”

he blinks.

“here..” he states, glancing around the party. “for me?”

the confidence wore off in a second. you were now starting to get embarrassed, cursing yourself for saying such things in front of sunghoon who probably didn’t even like you.

“that’s sweet little lee,” he says, eyes crinkling. “but you could get into a lot of trouble if your brother finds you, you know? he already freaks about you enough, finding you at a party at his college at night will kill him at the spot.”

park sunghoon was right, your brother would absolutely rage if he had found out you snuck out to go to a party. in some ways, he was even more strict than your mom.

“hoonie!” the voice of a girl interrupts the both of you as she makes her way over, placing a sloppy kiss against sunghoon’s cheek. she hasn’t said anything to you and you were already starting to see red.

“oh hi! i didn’t see you there!” she extends her hand, grinning from ear to ear. “i’m hanni, president of the pi beta thi sorority!”

you notice sunghoon’s hands finding themselves around her waist. although he’s probably only doing that to stabilize her, you find yourself too jealous to speak.

“hanni, this is lee y/n, heeseung’s sister.”

“oh!” the girl gasps. “oh my gosh, i’ve heard just so much about you! you’re prettier in real life! what are you doing at a college party?”

now you can’t really keep being mad at her because she seems so genuine when she’s complimenting you.

“oh, my friend riki has dancer friends who invited us.” you say awkwardly, watching as sunghoon whispers something in hanni’s ear.

“well that’s awesome, i hope i’m gonna see you here next year!” hanni then waves her hands, parting away from sunghoon. “i’m gonna go say hi to your brother, toodles!”

you watch as she makes her way towards the outside, most likely to the pool. at least you knew where your brother was so you know how to avoid him.

“hanni is really sweet,” sunghoon says as you turn back to face him. “met her a few months ago.”

“oh really,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek. “is she your girlfriend?”

sunghoon laughs as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. “what? no—of course not. she’s just touchy when she’s drunk. she’s dating one of my frat friends, his name is yang jungwon.”

you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, happy that sunghoon was still single. after all, hanni was a pretty and nice girl, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was able to pull him.

the two of you stand in silence for a bit, sunghoon staring into your eyes with his dazed eyes. you almost want to pull him in, close the gaps between yours and his lips.

“am i stupid?” he suddenly asks, eyes still in contact with yours.

“no, why would you say that sunghoon?”

“i still like you after all this time. even when i got to college and promised myself i’d find a girlfriend and move on, you’re always still at the back of my mind.”

his confession makes you wonder if you were hallucinating, not believing that the park sunghoon who you’ve been inlove with since childhood was currently telling you he liked you.

“i..” he doesn’t let you say anything else, choosing to lean in and kiss you instead.

it’s all great and feels magical until you’re pulled back harshly, the sound of your brother’s yelling filling your ears.

“LEE Y/N? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING AT A COLLEGE PARTY, AT NIGHT? KISSING SUNGHOON OF ALL PEOPLE? WE’RE GOING HOME!”

you want to cry in embarrassment when you realize everyone has turned their eyes to look at you, and sunghoon throws you a look of guilt and pity when he sees heeseung dragging you away.

“stop it, you’re embarrassing me.” you cry as you’re outside the party.

“me, embarrassing you?” heeseung scoffs, looking up into the sky before looking down at you. “do you know how much you’ve disappointed me tonight? first, you dress up in barely any clothes, then you sneak into a party with some japanese male exchange student, and then you KISSED MY BEST FRIEND?” you close your eyes at heeseung’s yelling, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole.

“what will i do with you?” he grumbles as he drives the two of you home. “you’re lucky mom is out of town for two days. if i drove you home like this, she would kill you. and is that fucking alcohol i smell on you lee y/n?”

you gulp, knowing full well that you probably reeked of alcohol and sunghoon’s cologne at that moment.

“i told you he was a bad influence.” heeseung says as a red light comes up, turning to you as his hands were still on the steering wheel. “he’s going to break your heart and crush it beneath his feet, and who are you gonna come crying to? me. i’ve seen it so many times before y/n, my own girl friends at college have got with sunghoon and all he’s done is crush their souls and spirits. you think you’re any different because he said a few sweet things and kissed you?”

“stop it.” you say, wiping your tears away. “you’re being mean, heeseung.”

“men like him don’t change, y/n. sure, he’s my best friend, but he’s not a good boyfriend. he’ll drop you the second he feels like you’re inconvenient.”

you let out your first sob at night as your brother pulls into your driveway. although he’s still fuming mad at you for going against all his rules, he pulls you into his chest, letting you cry it out as he rubs your back comfortingly.

“are you okay?” is the first thing nishimura riki says when he sees you at school, frowning at your bloodshot eyes. “i saw you get dragged away by heeseung hyung yesterday night. it was really loud.”

“gee, thanks.” you scowl at him, making him raise his hands in surrender.

“if it makes you feel better, sunghoon wanted to speak to you.”

your head suddenly peeks up at this, and riki almost laughs by how easily he could change your mood.

“really? even after last night?”

“mhm.” riki stabs a fork into his mashed potatoes. “but he didn’t look so happy, so if you end up crying after, i have ice cream at my house.”

you let out a laugh at the boy’s words, silently thanking the world for giving you such an unserious best friend.

and just like riki had said earlier, park sunghoon was waiting in front of your house by the time you got home.

“hey.” he says, hands in pocket.

“hey.”

“about last night,” he seems to be looking everywhere but you. “i’m really sorry about your brother.”

“it’s fine.” you say, shrugging. “he was just being overprotective as usual.”

“yeah.” sunghoon steps closer cautiously. “i meant what i said, you know. about me liking you.”

“sunghoon, i like you too.”

he nods slowly, expression still glum. “that’s the problem though. we cant be together, y/n, you know that, right?”

“why?” you breathe out. “because you want to keep playing girls at your college?”

his eyebrows furrow deeply. “what? no? i’m just—i can’t be with you!” he steps backwards. “i’ll ruin your life, you said it yourself, i play girls at stanford. what’s to say i wont do the same to you?”

“i have known you since you were 10 sunghoon!” you say, throwing up your hands exasperated. “i know you can change for the better. i won’t let you go away this easily, not when i’ve spent my entire life loving you.”

“really?” sunghoon whispers, eyes teary. “you’ve spent your entire life loving me?”

“i have.” you walk up to sunghoon, cupping his face into your hands. “and i’ll love you for my next life if i have to.”

he laughs quietly, head tilting as he admired your face.

“little lee,” he says softly. “you really are a gem, aren’t you?”

park sunghoon being park sunghoon doesn’t let you reply to his words, instead shutting you up with a long kiss on the lips.

“wow.” you say as you pull away, making the older boy giggle. “lee heeseung is so gonna kill the both of us after the life lecture he gave me last night.”

“can’t kill me if i move away to antarctica.” sunghoon smirks, watching as your expression changes in a millisecond.

“YAH PARK SUNGHOON! YOU ARE NOT MOVING ANTARCTICA AFTER JUST CONFESSING TO ME!”

1K notes · View notes

sjyuns · 8 months

Text

WAY BACK HOME ┆ A SIM JAEYUN ONESHOT

BREAKING NEWS! the friendly neighbourhood superhero spider-man has been caught trying to swing into a girl’s heart — but why is he failing miserably?! is this the spider-man we all know and love? or has our hero lost his spark?

or in which sim jaeyun asks you, his best friend out, forgetting that he was still in his spider-man suit.

GENRE! best friends to lovers, mutual pining, extremely groundbreaking embarrassing pick up lines, my missed hit at being a comdeian, jaeyun being jaeyun ( ie a hot loser ),

CAUTION! idiots in love, two timing ( but they’re the same person ), kissing, love, mentions of weapons and fighting crime, bad pickup lines, embarrassment for sim jaeyun, both reader and jaeyun are nineteen in this fic

WORDCOUNT! 5100

MIKAELA’S! hey everyone, this is the first ever oneshot i’m posting on my shiny new blog! please feel free to leave feedback through reblogs or asks! hope you enjoy jake embarrassing the soul out of himself🫶 i love sim jaeyun so much ( too much it’s embarrassing tbh ) this is the last of my old drafts, sorry for the spam!

playlist ⟡ way back home — shaun ⟡ forever only — jaehyun ⟡ pov — ariana grande ⟡ daylight — taylor swift

i. with great power comes a platter of hot embarrassment

“With great power comes great responsibility,” is what Spider-Man once said in an interview with The Daily Times, the most widely read newspaper company in all of Seoul.

It’s so out of character of Sim Jaeyun that he himself wonders what exactly went through his mind at that given time to blurt out such a philosophical quote — especially when he was having the bad urge to take a piss at that very moment.

But whatever it was: he needs it to return now, because he’s standing in front of you, his best friend, and he thinks that now's the chance; to finally ask you out after saving you.

Unfortunately Sim Jaeyun is out of luck, like he always is with you, because nothing but five utterly embarrassing words come out of his mouth.

“You tingle my spidey senses.”

You choke back a laugh as you stare at the masked superhero, amused at his sudden pick-me-up. “Are you rizzing me up, mister friendly neighbourhood hero?”

It seems like too much thinking has altered the already broken thought process in Sim Jaeyun’s brain, because it is only now that he registers that he’s still in his Spider-Man suit, and you don’t have a single clue that he’s Spider-Man.

“Uh, I mean-” but he’s cut off by the roaring cheer of the gathered public, who have their phones out and recording.

“Don’t back down, Spider-Man,” a citizen calls out, and Jaeyun thinks it’s far too late to back out now, because not only will it crush his ego, you might think Spider-Man isn’t as cool as he seemed to be.

“Would you let me swing into your heart- I mean, could we” he pauses, “could we hang out sometime?”

You smile, and it makes Jaeyun frown slightly under his mask, because he knows that smile — it’s the polite one, the one you use in a slightly uncomfortable situation, as if you didn’t want to embarrass the popular superhero standing in front of you at the moment.

“Sure,” you grin, pearly whites on display, “could I bring my best friend Jaeyun though? He’s a big fan.” It’s him, he thinks, he’s the Jaeyun you’re talking about. And his heart skips a beat at your thoughtful action.

“Okay! Tomorrow, here, five in the evening,” he says in excitement without a second thought. You’ve just agreed to go out on a date with him, and he’s too drunk in love to think about how he’s going to meet you as Spider-Man without telling you his identity.

He shoots a web up and swings after shouting an elated “see you, yn,” in the air. All too caught up in you to realise the three critical mistakes he’d made.

ONE. He never asked for your name as Spider-Man

TWO. There’s no way he could ever go on a date with his suit on in public

THREE. How in the fucking world is he going to a date with you as both Spider-Man and Sim Jaeyun?

Sim Jaeyun spends the whole night twisting and turning in his bed, mind in a flurry as he tries to think of the smartest way to solve these problems.

And it doesn’t help him when his phone pings with a new message from you.

Guess who just bagged us a hang out with Spider-Man tomorrow!

Don’t wear that Spider-Man suit or I swear to god I will not bring you to see him.

He sighs as he presses hard on the power button of his phone, staring blanking at the black screen. Fuck power or responsibility, he thinks, all he wants is his best friend’s heart, is that too much to ask for?

ii. man up, spidey-boy!

“BREAKING NEWS! Spider-Man spotted trying to swing into a girl’s — who supposedly goes by the name yn, heart. And after failing miserably at the first try, he succeeded on the second. Spidey may be a hero who saves lives, but it seems like he might have to take up what youngster’s call ‘rizz’ classes.”

The wide billboard screen casts a video taken by a bystander as the announcer's voice blared into the main junction of the city.

Jaeyun groans as he hangs his head low, adjusting the baseball cap perched on top of his head to cover his face. Not like anyone knew he was Spider-Man, no, but it was just far too embarrassing for him.

He hears you before he sees you, your voice is illegally sweet as it causes a smile to appear on his face amidst all of the stress. “Jaeyun!” You call, “you’re unusually late,” and Jaeyun groans, blaming it on the lack of sleep he had gotten last night, “Spider-Man isn’t here yet.”

Right, Spider-Man. Jaeyun still hasn’t found a solution to that.

His suit is tucked safely in the bottom of his bag, just in case. But for now, Jaeyun thinks it’s a better decision to disappoint you as Spider-Man instead of as your best friend. Besides, he hasn’t missed a single hang out session with you, and he isn’t ever planning to.

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” You ask, head tilting in question and eyes soft, and Jaeyun wonders if he actually underestimated how much you liked Spider-Man, misunderstood that seemingly polite smile you gave him yesterday — should he have came as Spider-Man instead?

“Uhm,” he pauses, hesitant to squash your expectations, “how about we go first? I’m sure Spider-Man will swing by, it seems like he likes you a lot.” And even though he was talking about himself, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy bubbling in him at the thought of another boy liking you.

“Right,” you say, giving him a smile that makes his heart melt, “I guess it’s just us, like it always is.” Your fingers wrap around his, “I like it like this.” You mutter softly, yet in the buzz of the city square, Jaeyun catches the whisper of your voice, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“Plus, if I ever need, you can be my Spider-Man — whip out that fake suit of yours. You have his physique anyway, and your pick up lines are just as idiotic as his. Maybe even more idiotic.”

Jaeyun lets out a loud laugh, one that’s of melodious dreams, and it causes a few pedestrians to stare but he doesn’t care, not when you’re next to him, asking him to be your very own Spider-Man. And he agrees immediately, all too ready to put on the ‘fake’ red and blue suit just for you.

He’s a little amused that you still believe that he’s a hardcore fan of Spider-Man, because the only time you’ve caught him wearing that very suit was two years ago, when you coincidentally entered his room to see him in a Spider-Man suit without a mask.

And he still remembers your accusations of him being a fanboy, asking him if dressing up as his idol was what he did in his free time. Jaeyun was way too flustered to even explain himself, and letting you know that he was the real Spider-Man never even crossed his mind as he bashfully nodded to your words.

But it wasn’t like you ever laughed at him about it, though you did tease him. You would still buy him different types of Spider-Man merchandise, ranging from Spider-Man socks to a custom Spider-Man mug with the words ‘Spider-Man loves Jaeyun’ in bold red.

With every gift given, came an opportunity to reveal his identity. Yet Sim Jaeyun never seizes it, he refuses to, because he finds it so endearing — the way you have the proudest smile on your face as you give him merchandise of himself that he has never seen before, the way you send him a picture of every single Spider-Man related thing you see on the streets.

“Right,” he nods as he gazes adoringly at you, “forget the real Spider-Man, I’ll swing into your heart.” And the giggle you let out once again makes his knees weak — he thinks the smile plastered on your face is much more genuine than the one he saw yesterday.

And he wants to kiss you so bad, tell you exactly how much he likes you, loves you. This familiar feeling that has settled comfortably at the bottom of his heart and back of his mind for the past four years, has only grown and never dwindled. It was times like this, where he didn’t feel the burden of having to be alert about ongoing crime.

Only with you can he feel like Sim Jaeyun — a lovesick nineteen year old and not Spider-Man, the hero of Seoul.

“Jaeyun, what do you want to do first?” You ask, pulling him through the blaring fun of the amusement park. He hums, following behind your excited figure, letting you choose what you wanted to do. “Oh my god, look it’s a Spider-Man toy.”

You halt in your step and immediately turn towards him, eyes sparkling. “Do you want it Jaeyun? I’ll get it for you. Just so you aren’t too sad that Spider-Man ghosted us today.”

He scoffs, as he examines the booth. It’s a shooting game, and he knows that you suck at shooting. “You sure, love? From what I remember, you aren’t too good at shooting games,” he brings up and you shoot him a sharp glare before pestering him to pay the vendor.

You end up blaming your best friend for jinxing you, “Yun, if you never said that, I could have shot them all down,” you complain, eyes morphing into slits as you pinpoint the blame on him. Jaeyun raises his two hands in innocence, face displaying an expression of shock, “I didn’t even say anything wrong, plus you barely hit one out of five balloons.”

You groan, shushing him in embarrassment, “If you’re such a professional, win it for me then,” you challenge him. Jaeyun shrugs, it’ll be easy — all those years of shooting webs has made him extremely sharp, so he manages to shoot all the five balloons without any effort, snagging the coveted Spider-Man doll.

“You sure you don’t want it, Yun?” you question, “add it to your collection as a fanboy.” He shakes his head, handing you the plush toy, “I won it for you. Plus, I like the ones you gave me more.”

It overwhelms you, the stark sincerity in his voice. And you feel the sudden need to kiss him, not like you’ve never thought of it before (more like you’ve thought about it too much), because Sim Jaeyun with his bright personality and handsome face is far too good to be real.

But you can’t bring yourself to be that direct, so you settle for a kiss on the cheek. A quick movement and a short peck before you let out a loud giggle, walking over to the next booth with a stupid smile plastered on your face, leaving Jaeyun in shock and awe — eyes wide and mouth agape before he bites back a smile.

He thinks it’s too hard to conceal his feelings any longer; that he has to tell you soon, next week, tomorrow, or maybe even now. And he feels the three words, eight letters, at the tip of his tongue.

As always, though, he swallows them back down, throat dry as he stares at you. The fear of rejection far too intense for him to handle.

How ironic, that Sim Jaeyun could fight criminals with equipped daggers that could kill him in one swift motion, yet he could not say three simple words to a girl who has pierced his heart and filled his stomach with butterflies.

iii. in a sticky predicament

“Now on to our very own Spider-Man’s upcoming love story that seems to be wilting by the looks of it — Spidey, in fact, did not show up to his date with yn, who was seen with another boy at the amusement park. Our very own hero is facing multiple accusations that he may be, like his representative colour, a red flag. However, a minority of fans have brought up a speculation; that the boy we call Spider-Man, might be the very boy accompanying yn yesterday unmasked. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Don’t you think that’s insane Jaeyun?” you laugh, throwing your head back into the soft pillow on his bed, “they think you’re Spider-Man.”

“Right,” he trails on, arms crossed as he leans on the doorframe, “that’s so impossible.”

His laugh awkward as his fingers find themselves combing through his hair for the nth time. And you turn your head, looking at him with suspicion. Right, that’d be crazy, insane maybe, you think, because Sim Jaeyun was well — him. He’s slightly awkward, likes physics, and hell he’s scared of bugs, so it’ll be mind blowing if he ever was the real Spider-Man.

But impossible, you think, might not be true. And you sit up on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on him. Same physique, similar height, he’s athletic, and he shoots well. Plus, from your ever so short encounter with Spider-Man saving you from getting your wallet stolen, Spider-Man is just as awkward as your best friend.

Could he really be Spider-Man? But he’s a fan of Spider-Man, wouldn’t it be weird if he was such a big fan of himself. Still, you couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“Jump,” you instruct, “hang upside down on the walls.” Jake is shocked, as his heart accelerates in nervousness at the thought of being found out.

“Don’t be weird,” he groans, trying to keep calm, “that’s literally humanly impossible.” His mind racing, finding a way to get out of this sticky situation, because as much as he wants to tell you his identity, the last way he wanted you to find out was through the internet. Also, maybe because you looked slightly angry, with your eyebrows furrowed and hands on your head, and Jaeyun didn’t want you to be mad at him.

You were deep in thought, was that why Spider-Man didn’t show up yesterday — because he is actually Sim Jaeyun, and he couldn’t be there as two different people.

That might be a stretch, but it isn’t an impossible scenario. You tilt your head, quickly grabbing the pillow you were just lying on, throwing it at him, “catch.”

He catches it easily, with one hand even, as his face contorts into an expression of surprise. “Don’t scare me like that, love,” he says. But you’re too flabbergasted at the fast reflexes of your best friend to even comprehend his complaint.

“You could really give Spider-Man a run for his money, you know?” you chuckle, as you tell yourself that no matter how much it might fit, it’s probably just a coincidence, “put on that suit of yours and fight crime.” It was all a coincidence, right?

“What if I’m scared of getting hurt,” he pouts, and you snort. With Sim Jaeyun’s level of cowardice, there’s no way he could ever be out there fighting.

“Then I’ll protect you,” you say, “I’ll be your sidekick, all you have to do is stand there and look pretty.”

He grins, walking over to stand in front of you; hands moving to ruffle your hair. “Okay love, you lead, I’ll follow.”

iv. tell him to grow a pair

Your newfound popularity brings you more drawbacks than benefits — by that you mean the sudden fury of boys approaching you to ask for your number. It annoys Jaeyun more than it does you, as your best friend flaunts a new irritated look that you’ve rarely seen.

“That’s the sixth fucking boy,” he grumbles, eyes rolling before he glares at the fleeting figure of Lee Heeseung, the boy who just asked you for your number, the boy who Jaeyun lashed out at.

“Be kind, Yun,” you chuckle, amused at your best friend’s sudden grumpiness, “I mean, I’ve never lashed out at any of the girl’s who ask you out.”

“No one has asked me out.” he groans, “are you flaunting right now?”

“Yes I am,” you reply, “don’t worry Jaeyun, you’ll always be my loser.”

He lets out a loud exaggerated sigh as he rolls his eyes, leaning against the locker as he grits his teeth in exasperation.

You wonder why no girl has ever hit Sim Jaeyun up. Granted, he wasn’t the best looking guy back in middle school with his choice of brightly coloured clothes that blinded eyes, but you think that was part of the appeal — how awkwardly adorable he was. Now, with his upgraded fashion style and bubbly personality, it’s a miracle no one has tried their shot at bagging him. Not that you wanted anyone to.

Sim Jaeyun is yours, just as much as you are his.

And he thinks the exact same. Despite what you think, he has had a girl approach him, professing his love only to get turned down by his puppy-like smile and his confession that he liked you.

Though his body exudes jealousy, there's a slight bit of relief at the fact that you turned all six of the boys down, telling them that you had a crush on someone else. He hopes, prays, begs that the person you think about is him. He furiously looks for a sign, because he’s tired of all this, and he needs a sign from you before he can courageously make the first move.

After school, the both of you walk down the buzzing streets with carts of street food lined up along the roadside. Your fingers bunching the fabric of Jaeyun’s shirt as he navigates the both of you through the crowded streets, making a beeline for his favourite churros shop.

“I told you the queue would be long, it’s Friday night,” you whine, mentally counting the number of people in front of you. Fifteen, that’ll take a while. “We should have just ordered in pizza and binge on Netflix shows.”

“Fine, we can eat churros another day,” Jaeyun pouts and you curse yourself for saying that even when you knew he wanted to eat churros.

“It’s fine, we can stay, since we’re already here.” You stop him, pulling him back beside you in the queue, “but you can’t leave to do something else like last time, you have to wait with me.”

The glow on his face coupled with the adorable smile on his lips makes you stare in awe. And you think Sim Jaeyun is so pretty and handsome all at once it’s a crime to look as good as him. His lips, god, they look so kissable and soft, you wish you could kiss them at any given time — now, tomorrow, forever.

But the moment doesn’t last long, as faint screams and shouts travel from a small corner shop down the road. “Thief, there’s a thief on the run.”

You watch as Jaeyun’s eyes widen, body in a sudden scramble, “uhm, I’m gonna go to the toilet for a moment,” he says amidst the whispers of the crowd, “stomach ache, you know.” Running off before you can give him a reply, brushing past people hurriedly into a random narrow street.

You shrug it off again because it isn’t the first time Jaeyun has acted out of character. However, you can’t help but realise it was always when there was crime.

The questions and suspicions floating around your head for the past week resurface as you focus on the narrow street your best friend had disappeared into.

Oh my god.

You blink profusely, pinch yourself, and rub your eyes because this is mind blowing information. You can’t seem to believe an ounce of what your eyes have just seen. Was that Spider-Man who just swung out of the very same alleyway?

Sim Jaeyun is Spider-Man. And your conclusion only seems to solidify as you hear the muffled voice coming out of his masked persona.

“Oops, sorry,” and a careless swing as he tries his best to manoeuvre through the crowd, accidentally knocking over a little girl’s ice cream cone, “I'm sorry, please don’t cry.”

Yup, that’s Jaeyun. His voice now so familiar you hit yourself in the head for not realising sooner. And his utterly helpless tone as he tries to soothe the little girl — you could recognise it from a mile away.

“I’ll get you a new one, I’m sorry,” he shouts as he spins his web and shoots again, lamppost to windows to signboards before effortlessly catching up with the thief; who was now bound to the wall by web.

“Sorry,” he groans for the fourth time in a matter of minutes, “it’s my job — i mean, not that you deserve to get away no, i just-” he rambles and you giggle at his comment. Seems like Sim Jaeyun will never change, even as a superhero or as your best friend.

“I meant to say, justice has been served,” he nods, seemingly proud of his awkward catchphrase that you were sure he stole from the superhero movie you watched with him a few weeks back. “I have to get back now, someone awaits me you know - i mean, no- I’m not supposed to give details of my personal life. I’ll just- stop talking… yeah.”

And you watch again as he swings back down the street. With his identity revealed, you can’t help but look up to Jaeyun even more now — a top student and a superhero? How unfair the world is. How lucky you were to have him as your best friend.

“Hey! Aren’t you yn? Spider-Man, is that your girl?” You shrink, head down as you fix your gaze on the floor immediately, cheeks a rosy red. God, you think, this is a little embarrassing.

You feel his presence before you see his shadow morphing with yours on the floor, “hey yn,” and you look up to see the superhero, who’s panting ever so slightly, stand in front of you in his glory. “Sorry about last week, I was well busy, and I know it isn’t any-”

“It’s fine,” you stop him from blabbering, a toothy grin plastered on your face. And Jaeyun feels proud, maybe him saving someone has put Spider-Man back into your good graces, maybe he has a chance with you as Spider-Man.

“I had fun with my crush at the amusement park. Actually, thank you for the opportunity, I kissed his cheek for the first time and it felt like heaven.”

He pauses, and Jaeyun wants to rip off his mask at the very moment to kiss you. You liked him back, fuck, you actually liked him back.

“Ah,” he says after a while of tense silence, his hands rubbing the nape of his neck, “that’s amazing. So- do you… I mean- so you’re like, in love with him? Wait love might be a little uhm-”

“Yeah, I’m in love with him.”

Time stops as your eyes pierce into his, and he can swear at this moment that you knew exactly who he was. He thinks it’s over, and he can finally ask you to be his — because he’s hellbent on loving you, for the past four years he has been.

“Seems like this crush of yours needs to step up his game, or I might just steal you away,” he remarks lightheartedly, uncaring of the sea of cameras pointing towards the both of you.

“Yeah, it seems like he does. Maybe you should visit him one day, tell him that it’s about time to man up, or I’ll be the one asking for his hand.” You shoot a knowing glance at him, a confident smirk on your face.

Jaeyun chuckles, “right, I’ll be sure to tell him that, wouldn’t want him to lose such a special girl.”

“Thanks Spidey, I wonder what I’d ever do without you,” you laugh, patting his suited shoulder before he once again swings away into the narrow alleyway, only to appear minutes later donned in his usual faded ripped jeans and white shirt, hair tousled and smile wide as he runs back to you.

And he’s before you all again, this time as your best friend and you swoon as his adoring eyes and elated smile. “You okay?” You ask, hand raising to fix his hair.

“I couldn’t be better.”

v. Batman vs Spider-Man, a battle of the mans

“Spider-Man should now change his name into wing man as he is spotted once again, engaging in conversation with the very same yn from last week. Spider-Man was not only ruthlessly dumped by her, but was also asked to quote on quote visit her crush to ask him to grow a pair. Seems like she is off the market for our poor lonely superhero, who can’t seem to catch anyone except for criminals. That’s all for Spider-Man, here on The Daily News.”

“Seems like you can’t catch a break, huh Yun?” You point out as you switch the television off, “not only defamed into a wing man but also asked to grow a pair.”

And it seems like he really can’t because ever since you confronted him about being Spider-Man, his days have been filled with even more ruthless teasing, and weird questions.

“How do you even piss as Spider-Man?”

“Can I swing from building to building?”

“Can you hang upside down for ten minutes?”

“How do you think you would fare against Batman in a fight?”

But there’s one unasked question still hanging in the air. And Jaeyun really wants to address it, but it seems like you’ve lost your confidence by the way the flesh of your cheeks heats an angry red at any slight hint of him being your crush — or as Jaeyun would like to call himself; your soon to be boyfriend.

“I’ve grown a pair,” he says, shifting towards you, eyes trained on yours, “seems like someone has lost a pair.”

“Have not” you argue, lies — you could barely look at Jaeyun now without a lovesick smile on your face. Neither could you muster up the courage to ask him to be your boyfriend. “And if you ever grew a pair, you would have asked.”

“Ask what?” He teases, face moving closer to yours. He looks too good, godly almost, with his black rimmed glasses perched at the bridge of his nose.

You pout, furrowing your eyebrows as you place a light slap on the middle of his chest. And he lets out a low chuckle, the vibrant sun rays flush through the sheer day curtains of Jaeyun’s room, a natural spotlight glowing on the both of you.

“Fine,” he whispers, and you can feel his breath on your lips, it’s warm and inviting and you feel yourself leaning into him. “Will you be my girlfriend, love?”

You barely nod your head before he attaches his lips on yours. And you think you’re going to be obsessed with Sim Jaeyun — your fingers find their way through his hair and he sighs. It’s like he’s imprinted in your heart and you want to kiss him again and again and again.

Sim Jaeyun with pretty eyes, pretty lips, a pretty face, a pretty being, breaks the kiss only to kiss you again and again as you wish.

“Did I swing into your heart, love?” He smirks as you playfully roll your eyes at his antics. “Are we not going to bring up the time when you fell after showing me your web skills?”

He tackles you down and you giggle, “I can fall from the sky, I can fall from a tree, but the best way to fall is to fall in love with you.” He grins idiotically before racing out the door as you cringe at yet another bad pick up line from him.

“Sim Jaeyun, are you kidding me? I wonder how you even make up quotes like ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ with that mind of yours.”

“What mind? You mean my mind — the place where you always are?”

You groan in fake disgust as you watch your boyfriend (boyfriend!) smile proudly at his idiotic pick up lines. The both of you drinking sunlight as if it’s love — where he’s all yours and you’re all his.

uncut. confessions i can’t make ( a crumpled confession letter written by a sixteen year old sim jaeyun )

hi dear yn,

i like you. it’s been a while since you took my breath away we first met. this is my first time ever writing a confession so i don’t really know what to say write… i guess it’s like writing physics notes so maybe it wouldn’t be too hard i hope

chapter one part one : what i like about you

i like the way you smile laugh, how your eyes turn into the tiniest of crescents, it makes me proud of the jokes i crack (that physics joke was good was it not). i like the feeling i have around you — it’s warm and fuzzy, natural — talking everyday without any forceful conversation, laughs or attention.

part two : why you should like me

i think you should like me because i like you. i think you should like me because i’m smart! i can help you with physics and maths. i don’t really know what else i can give you but i’ll try my best to make you smile everyday.

will you be my girlfriend? Oh god, this is so weird i actually like you a lot and

(a bunch of scribbling)

forget it. you’ll never like me back.

dear mister sim jaeyun,

after three hours of fighting for my life, i have finally gotten my hands on the most treasured item of the year, a sixteen year old you’s crumpled confession letter to me. and since you wrote it in a physics notes style like a loser, as your girlfriend i have no choice but to follow you (so that you don’t feel lonely)

one. what i like about you

everything. i like your hair, i like your face. I like the way you say sorry to every single person in the neighbourhood while courageously saving them. i like your pick up lines on some days and how you have the guts to challenge Batman to a fight when i proclaim him as my favourite hero. i like the way you laugh and i like the way you smile. i am especially enchanted by your kicked puppy ways and easily manipulated demeanour where i can always get what i want without question.

two. why you should like me

i’m your girlfriend and you’re my girlfriend. (you are my girlfriend) you should stop staring at me with those eyes, it gives me the ick (i meant that in a ‘whatever you say pretty boy’ kind of way) you should like me because i am the person who likes you the most. (i love you so much)

will i be your girlfriend? obviously i will, i mean who can say no to you.

love you babe,

spider-man’s (your) hot sidekick

#⪩⪨ mikaela's #enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen soft hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake #jake x reader #enhypen jake x reader #jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #jake imagines #enhypen jake imagines #jaeyun imagines #jaeyun x reader

2K notes · View notes

l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

Text

Not his type

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: you are helping at Chucho’s ranch and Javier thinks you are still definitely not his type

warnings: as usually SMUT ( vaginal fingering, oral -m!receiving, male masturbation, protected p in v, biting, hair pulling), cursing, soft!Javi - cuz that’s my favorite genre of Javi -, just a smudge of angst, mentions of bullying, mentions of food, fluff

word count: 10.5 k (I like them big I guess *wink wink*)

A/N: I planned to start my Marcus Pike fic but then this idea popped into my head and I just had to write it. This is basically just a long friends to lovers fic.

Javier Peña is not a simple man – far from it. He is bitter and hot-headed, and he feels small no matter what he does – he should have done better, he should have been smarter, quicker. He shouldn't have been such an idiot. Maybe then he wouldn’t be now standing in front of his childhood home. Maybe then...

But no matter what Javier thinks of himself he is a good man. He is caring and always wants to do the right thing – even if the consequences of his actions make him look like a bad guy. He doesn’t care – or he does but doesn’t let it show. Doesn’t want people to know that perhaps he is not as strong as he seems. Doesn’t want them to know that he cares – sometimes too deeply. Doesn’t want them to know he might feel – it's better if he seems unapproachable and looks like if you'd touch him, he'd burn you too greatly - so much that you would want to do nothing with him ever again.

So Javier feels the weight of all of his sins drop into his stomach when he keeps standing on the porch of Chucho’s house with a suitcase that he had packed with himself from Bogotá. He wanted to leave all of his old life behind but some memories stay with things that are bound to them.

He feels like a little boy again when he came home crying because lads – older and bigger than him – were picking on him. He feels like the little boy who hid behind the skirts of his dear mama when guests came to visit. That’s why he wants to look so tough, that’s why he is so hard around the edges – he changed, Bogotá changed him so he wouldn’t have to feel that small ever again. But even that didn’t help. Deep inside he is still that little boy. He can hide behind his bravado - his stern scowl and cold gaze- but that fact will never change.

He doesn’t know how long he has been standing there until the door swings open – almost hitting him in the face – and he sees Chucho standing in the doorway. His signature cowboy hat on his head and that old red flannel shirt he bought him on Christmas ages ago seems a little tighter around his middle than he'd last seen him in it. He is older – slower, the age showing on his face. But when he smiles as he sees Javier in front of him he looks 30 years younger.

Javier looks a lot like his pops – he has the same nose that he hated when he was younger – and pops had the same colored dark hair once that curls if it gets too long. They have the same dimple on the left side of their face if they smile too hard and like his pops, Javier could never really grow a proper beard.

Pops hugs him as if he hadn't seen him in ages – and to be honest, that is true. Work and life always got in the way and he regrets all the time he missed with him. He also didn’t want to come home – his mother’s things were still everywhere in the house. Her pictures, the warms blankets - that Javier loved to wrap around himself on the colder nights in Laredo - scattered on the armchairs and couch. He didn’t want to see Pops sad and so he stayed behind in Bogotá drowning in work, booze and women. The Peña men had different ways of grieving. Chucho never said anything to Javi though – he didn’t blame him for not coming, didn’t yell at him for letting him be alone on holidays – and he should have. He should do all those things because maybe then Javier wouldn’t feel like such a bad son.

When they part Chucho smiles – he didn’t smile a whole lot after Javi's mom died. “It's good to see you, Javier.” He pats him on the back – a little clumsily, Javier notices but he puts a tight smile on his face. He missed a whole lot.

“You too, pops. How have you been?” It’s a question he knows the answer to. He always answers the same – busy. After the death of his wife Pops seemed to spend most of his day outside working on a ranch. Barely coming home to eat or drink. Wanted to occupy his mind. “Seems like you started actually eating as I said.” Pops waves his hand back at him.

“You calling me fat, mijo?” Javier opens his mouth to answer but Pops beat him to it, his belly shaking a little with laughter. “Someone has been helping me out for a while now. Cooking and cleaning the house once in a while.” Javier quirks an eyebrow at this and he pushes the small suitcase as he enters – now his home, too. It didn’t change here in the slightest. Pops throws him a look above his shoulder as he looks him up and down quickly. “Seems like you have been skipping out on meals, my boy. Come, Bee is here and the lunch should be already done. She made Pozole de Pollo o Guajolote. Your mother's recipe.” Javi stands straighter at the nickname. Surely he didn’t mean...

The delicious smell coming from the kitchen makes his stomach rumble and he doesn’t remember the last time he had a proper meal. He abandons the suitcase in the hallway after he takes off his boots and jacket that he puts on the old wooden hanger for coats he made with Pops when he was around 12 –its asymmetrical and weird-looking seeming like it was made by a child – which it was but it’s a memory Javier is very fond of.

The floors creak under Javier's quick footsteps and he stops in the doorway as he watches you fuss around his dad. His entire body softens, the crease in his forehead disappearing as he sees you in the Peña kitchen. The past coming into the present. Prepping the silverware on the table that lays in the middle of the smaller kitchen. He sees that Pops kept everything in place like it was even before the death of Javi's mother. He missed this place. Even though bittersweet memories crawl out on the surface of his mind and his heart aches like it hadn’t in a really long time.

“Seems like you are a busy bee, Bee.” Javier smirks when you look up at him. You didn’t really change after the last time he had seen you. Sure, you aged – as has he – but you still kept your spark from all those years ago. You smile fondly – and a little unsure – at him as you quickly wipe your hands on the apron wrapped around your middle. And Javier notices - of course, he does. The hesitation in your step when you walk to him. The little twitch of your lips you make when you are nervous.

He is an observant man. He watches and analyzes. And he is good at it too - you squirm under his intense gaze. As if he could see every little part of your soul, even the deepest secrets you kept hidden somewhere back down inside of you. That’s why he is such a good agent. Was, at least. His dark eyes shift to your cleavage just for a second. You don’t notice - his eyes quickly scanning you up and down.

He looks good. Even better than the last time you saw him. The mustache he grew suits him. His hair is longer than he had when he went to high school with you. He is broader and seems even taller. He is a man now, not the little boy you played hide and seek with. He still wears the same smirk on his lips though - that kind of smirk that meant trouble when you two were younger. His jeans hug him in just all the right places and the black shirt he is wearing makes him somehow look even hotter. All man.

“You know me. Never could keep still.”

And he does. He does know you. Or at least he did - when you two were just young kids, then stupid teenagers and suddenly - strangers too. You grew up at the Peña dinner table as much as your own. Your mothers were great friends, your fathers old buddies. You had a farm right next to them which you eventually sold when your folks passed away and it was just too much work for only you alone. You bought a small house with the money you received.

Javier still remembers when he first saw you – all toothy grin and two braids sitting on top of your head. You wore that stupid flowy dress in an ugly mustard color. You were more of the outgoing type and Javier – to everyone's surprise – was more of the lonely kid. He was smaller than his peers – smaller than you even, when you first met him. And he doesn’t remember why you started talking to him and wanted to become his friend but he didn’t complain at that time. You visited him almost every single day – looking for mischief all around. Broken glasses and bones were nothing new to both of you. The two of you were inseparable – until high school. Javier – for once in his life, thanks to you - didn’t feel so small anymore. He grew up to be a handsome and smart, confident and funny, pretty charming and self-assured young man. Girls started noticing him and he loved the attention – when their heads turned around to look. They thought he never noticed. But alas, Javier was an observant boy even back then and he noticed – his cockiness getting on your nerves sometimes. He never wanted to feel small again.

And like almost every girl – you developed a huge crush on him. But it wasn’t because he was tall and cocky, no. It was simply because you knew the real Javier – your Javi. Who hated being alone and who hated going to the church every Sunday – hiding in the dusty, covered in spider webs attic. He never noticed you – like he noticed the other girls. He never gave you that loop-sided grin or the puppy heart-filled eyes. You were just great friends - even when you wished for more. And one day you weren't even that.

You should have seen it coming, really. With Javier becoming popular, he started hanging out with you less and less. When you came to Peña's household he was already out with his new friends. And you always came running to him like a pathetic little puppy who comes to his owner no matter how many times they kick him. His friends laughed at you. And later on, he started laughing with them. He got a girlfriend – Lorraine, the sweet and perfect Lorraine – before you two stopped talking. The old memory still stings when you think about it.

It happened on one of those super warm summer nights in Laredo. You wore one of your favorite dresses. It hugged your curves and you thought you look absolutely beautiful in it – your mother said so too. You asked Javi if you could meet up at your spot – the old scrap yard just a couple minutes' walk from both of your houses. When you arrived there your stomach dropped to your feet – his friends sitting with him on your favorite car that was reserved for only you and Javi. Laughing and drinking booze, the atmosphere lose. But you didn’t feel lose – your muscles taunt and all you wanted to do was just turn on your heels and leave. Cry about this stupid little crush you had on this stupid Texas boy. But Javier spotted you before you could do so – somehow he could always spotted you even in the biggest of crowds.

“Bee! Come and join us!” He yelled, one of his hands shooting into the air as he held an unopened can of beer. And with his other hand...he was holding Lorraine. They were close to each other – her almost sitting on his lap as she placed kisses on the column of his throat. You swallowed the ball of anxiety that was building in your throat as you heard them whisper: “Why did you call her, man?” He didn’t answer as he smiled at you. Lorraine's eyes squinting at you in annoyance.

Clearing your throat you asked: “Javi, can we talk?” He just shrugged his shoulders as he hopped off from the roof of the car mumbling a quick “sure”. He wasn’t wearing a t-shirt – you noticed just then. The sun was slowly setting and his golden skin shined. The butterflies in your belly made you want to go home and squeal into your pillow. You gulped and a few of his friends whistled – noticing the once-over you gave him.

“Someone has an admirer here, Peña. Too bad she is so fat and ugly! Like a pig – oink oink!” All of them bursted into laughter and to your surprise – so did Javier. He laughed straight into your face and you fought the tears in your eyes to not spill as you finally turned on your heel – as you should have done much sooner – and left. You didn’t see the remorseful look in his eyes and the way his muscle twitched, his mind screaming at him to go after you. He never wanted to feel small ever again and his friends said you were a loser – people like him shouldn’t talk to people like you. He didn´t want to be loser again.

Lorraine pulls him by the shoulder back to her – her tongue plunging into his mouth and when they pull apart she grins, the long nails of hers scraping across his golden-tanned chest.

“Forget about her, Javi. You don’t need her.” He nodded – unsure – but he didn’t have time to think about it too much as her tongue fought with his once more – the heavy taste of beer on her tongue filling all of his senses.

After that, you stop talking to Javier. You still came to his house - with your mama - but you didn’t greet him anymore and he was pretty sure you told your and his mother as well, as they always threw him a dirty look whenever he was in the same room as you. You didn’t look at him and you didn’t acknowledge his presence anymore. He hated that he felt so small again even though he didn’t have a reason to. He had friends and a girlfriend, and all the girls threw themselves at him. So why does his stomach pull tight anytime he is near you, why does he feel like he lost peace of himself?

One day he decides he has had enough. Both of your mothers went outside to catch the last rays of the sun and you are alone in the kitchen – baking your famous apple pie. He sneaks behind you and cages you in. You feel his breath on your neck, the slow raise and fall of his chest. You turn around – your noses almost touching – and he sees the hot fury in your eyes. You are covered in flour and Javier thinks – just for a split second - he had never seen you look so fucking beautiful. His gaze lingers on your mouth maybe a little too long because he sees you are talking – your mouth opening and closing.

“What do you want, Javier?” You ask and he had never heard you so annoyed, so drained. You didn’t look like yourself anymore and didn’t sound like it too.

“Us to start talking again, Bee.” Because Javier is selfish and he takes and takes. Sometimes forgetting to give something back in return. He widens his eyes when he feels the sting on one of his cheeks – his head moving to one side with the force of it. You slapped him. He looks at you – you are all wide eyes and snarling teeth.

“Fuck you, Peña.” You quickly try to scramble away from him because you feel like crying again. No because of sadness – no. That sadness turned into raw fury after the incident at the scrap yard. Because of how idiotic and stupid he is. And because – no matter what he had done and told you – you can’t seem to shake off the crush you have on him. He grits his teeth and his hand grabs your wrist. Both of your breathing erratic.

“It's not my fault you are not my type, Bee.” He didn’t mean to say that - the words coming from his mouth sound foreign to him. Not right. But his hot temper gets the best of him and the way he said and what he said should not hurt that much. But it does. It feels like he had just stabbed you in the heart and then twisted the knife – deeper and deeper.

You yank away from his grip and you point a finger at him – your hand shaking with the hurt, anger, sadness, Everything coming at you in waves - it feels so fucking overwhelming. You want to scream at him, kick him, hurt him as much as he had hurt you. But what good would it do? None.

You exhale shakily and Javier waits for the fight but it doesn’t come. You shrink into yourself and turn to leave. You look at him above your shoulder as you whisper. “I hate you so fucking much, Javier Peña.” And you are gone.

The heavy weight of your words lingers in the air and he feels the hot tears running down the apple of his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away. His ears are ringing and he doesn’t hear your mother yelling at you about what happened. He doesn’t smell your apple pie burning in the oven. He fucked up. Because he will never get to talk to you again or feel your touch. He will never hear you laugh and he will never get to comfort you again when you cry. Because the only source of your sorrow is him – the stupid Texas boy you now despised.

Javier comes to present and you give him a quick side hug telling him to sit down. Chucho watches both of you and he prays that you are both wise enough now to sort out this little grudge you have. But you are also both too stubborn and the dinner passes in silence. The only sound is the clinking of silverware cutting through the thick air and sometimes Chucho quips in to ask Javier about Colombia - Javier doesn’t want to talk about that, though. So he stays quiet as he chews - the food tastes exactly like his mother’s.

When Javier sneaks a quick look at you he thinks that maybe he wasn’t such an idiot. The bitterness from your last talk makes his face twist. He hates how - even after all these years - you seem to not acknowledge him even though you try to stay as polite towards him as possible. As if you just look through him and not at him. He watches as you pass his pops a salt and you grin at something he says.

And yeah, you are still definitely not his type.

Javier sees you almost every day. It drives him fucking crazy. The way you just nod at him when he passes by or is in the same room as you – which is mostly kitchen -, the way you don’t answer his questions about you. How have you been, what did you do after high school? He only knows your folks passed away shortly after he left for Colombia – Chucho told him over the phone. Your parents felt like second ones to him. He wanted to call you after Chucho told him, he really did. But he didn’t know your number – that was just an excuse, he knows that and he also knows Chucho would have given it to him if he asked. He feared that you would hang up on him, that if he heard your broken voice he would book the closest flight to come to you. After all – you were best friends a long time ago.

Javier wants to know everything about you – but you give him nothing. You are just a big complicated riddle to him and he has no hints to figure you out. He notices you though and the things you still do. You still enjoy watching sunsets as you did when you were younger. And that you talk to plants when you water them or that you still secretly go and feed horses a few sugar cubes even though you really shouldn’t. That you still hum when you cook and squint your eyes on either him or Chucho when they enter the kitchen because you don’t like when somebody disturbs you while you are in you’re your element. You always liked to bake and cook – often sneaking into the kitchen with him late at night because he wanted cookies and you gave in and baked them. Because he asked you to and said please – Javier never said please often and that habit he kept.

So because you don’t seem happy when he wants to talk to you or occupies the same room – you actually don’t seem happy with his presence in general and that makes his heart tighten even if he doesn’t understand why – he spends most of his day tending to the ranch. Feeding the animals and fixing the old barn. Today he started fixing the old fence that didn’t even look like a fence at all anymore. He grunts as he stands up – he is getting old and his back is fucking killing him. The Texas sun makes him sweat, he smells and he feels thirsty – has felt thirsty for a while now. But he knows it's afternoon and you are probably in the house cooking. He contemplates it – he doesn’t want to see you uncomfortable around his sheer presence but fuck. He feels like he could drink a whole gallon of water. Fuck it, he thinks as his steps lead him to the Pena house. You knew he was coming back home – if you didn’t want to stick with him, you wouldn’t.

When he is finally inside and the sun doesn’t burn his face, he takes off his yellow aviators and the thick working gloves. He is covered in sweat and dirt and as he enters the kitchen you think he never looked better. But he always does in your eyes and you hate yourself for it. You gulp and turn your back to him as you try to quickly scribble the things you need to get at the farmers market today. Your body stiffens when he walks behind you – his shirt brushes against your shoulders - and grabs one of those old funny-looking glasses you painted together when you were probably around 9. The air thickens and the atmosphere is awkward – you both want to say something but nothing comes out of your mouths. Finally, Chucho enters and he looks at Javi and then back at you.

“Go shower, mijo. You are going with Bee today.” It's an order and Javi doesn’t want to argue. His house, his rules. Quite the opposite – maybe the change of setting will finally let you loosen up and you will talk to him. He wants to say to you so much. He looks at you and you gape at Chucho as he throws you a pointed look. You swiftly shut your mouth – Javier taking the steps by two as he wants to scrub himself squeaky clean as soon as possible. He feels positively giddy – it reminds him of the times when he got his first car and drove around Laredo with you.

When he comes down the hushed conversation between you and Chucho comes to a halt and he looks between you two before Chucho almost pushes you out of the house. You drag your feet behind you and the giddiness he felt leaves him as he sees your “enthusiasm”. He wants to go and hide in the nearest hole, lick the wounds he pretends he doesn’t have but you are already sitting in the passenger seat by the time he gets his head out of the gutter.

The ride is awkward, filled with silence and you squirm every once in a while in your seat. You glance at Javier's profile a few times – his strong jawline and his aquiline nose. You stare at his hands and how come they are so big? The veins are prominent on the back of them - leading to the thick fingers, nails trimmed neatly. His hair is longer now after a few weeks already spend at home. He looks better than when he arrived. Now he didn’t look as...tired. And as skinny – he always devours the meals you cook and you can see him filling up around the middle. His arms were much stronger and more muscular than before because of all the work he did on the ranch. Domesticity looks good on him. You watch as he grips the wheel and see his jaw tick before he sighs.

“I am sorry, Bee.” You raise your brows at him when he glances to see your reaction to his words. He never was good with them “actions speak louder than words” he always said. “I am sorry for what I said and how I treated you during high school. I was a fucking idiot and if I could take it all back-”

“You were.” It's a simple phrase, your words coming out fast and he grips the steering wheel tighter when your hand lands on his thigh. “But that’s all I ever wanted to hear, Javier. Yes, your words and actions hurt me in the past. And they still hurt me now when I think about them. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We were kids and if it didn’t happen I don’t think I would become the person I am now so I accept your apology even if it could have been a better one. You should really work on your people skills.” You shrug your shoulders as you tease him and the hand that was resting on his thigh moves into your lap once again. He wants to tell you you could have kept it there – it felt too fucking good even if it was such a simple and innocent touch. It grounded him and Javier is touch deprived.

“So, that’s it?” He asks, his tongue poking out to lick his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows while he watches the road.

“Yes, that’s it.”

The conversation flows smoothly after that and Javier can't believe it was that easy. If he apologized much sooner he could have been talking to you for weeks now. He missed this – your talks. You talked with your hands a lot and he enjoys how expressive you are when you are telling something. He learns a lot about you. You own a little bakery here - that’s why you are so flexible and can come almost anytime to the ranch. He feels proud of you – your dream was always to open a small bakery somewhere. At least one of us could make their dream come true.

You laugh and talk, and tell stupid jokes or occurrences that happened in your life. He missed a whole lot and so have you. Your favorite story of his is when he told about the time his neighbor – an old lady – saw him butt naked because the woman he slept with locked him out of his own apartment after he told her he wanted nothing serious. His neighbor called him over to have some fun which he politely declined. You double over laughing and Javi grins, his cheeks hurting. He missed your laugh – he didn’t feel this comfortable ever since...well ever since you stopped talking.

The ride passes quickly and when you step out of the car you come around – grabbing Javis's hand as you mumble something about “want to show you around here, Javi, so much changed after you left” as you throw him a quick grin. He can only concentrate on your nimble fingers between his and how it feels so fucking right before you are dragging him behind you.

You are not his type he has to remind himself as he squeezes your hand tightly.

Javier comes into the house all muddy once again. It has been raining in Laredo for the past few days - the land all soaked soil and dirt. He takes of his boots before he enters. His nose drags him into the kitchen as he catches the smell of pie. Sweet and delicious - or was it just you, standing here all soft and pretty? He can't tell anymore. These past few weeks were filled with nothing but joy – almost. You played cards with him and Chucho late at night, drinking beer and listening to Chucho's stories. Sometimes you went riding with him on the ranch. Your love for horses didn’t die out and you always were natural with them. You have your favorite one too – the small chestnut-colored mare with a fiery temperament that seems to tolerate only you. Chuho wanted to sell her a long time ago but you begged him on your knees – literally – not to. His eyes softened and he agreed reluctantly – he could never say no to you. Something both Peña men had in common.

Anytime Javier looks at you he feels his stomach tighten with something – sometimes arousal but he blames that on the lack of sex, sometimes on something entirely else. He tries to push it deep inside him but whenever he catches your smell his head gets all dizzy and he has the need to find you and talk to you, be near you He hates it. He hates it so fucking much. He doesn’t know what you did to him. He can't seem to shake you out of his mind. He thinks of you anytime he sees the sun setting down or the last time he picked violets for you as he saw them growing a few miles away from the ranch. Because you love violets. He gave them to you with a darker shade of red covering his ears as he scratched his neck. You thanked him and kissed him on the cheek then – his heart hammering in his chest, his pulse quickening and his lower half seemed all too interested in the skin-to-skin contact. As your lips lingered on his cheek as he thought about against what other parts of him would they feel so soft.

Javi leans against the doorframe as he watches you knead the dough – one of the pies already in the oven. You look so nice in your overalls. He could just bend you over the kitchen counter and -

Shut the fuck up, Peña. Don’t even think about getting hard.

You startle when you turn around and see him, your dough-covered hand flying to your chest as you yelp. “Javier Peña, don’t scare me like that!” You scowl at him, your lip pursed and he grins – his hands shooting into the air in a silent apology.

“Didn't mean to, Bee.” The corner of his lips pulls up as you murmur “sure you didn’t" and turn back around to put more flour in the dough. He quickly washes his hands in the sink and comes behind you – he inhales your scent and closes his eyes. The hair on your neck stands up. “You smell so fucking good.” It's a quiet statement. You look at him wide-eyed and he gives you a confused look in return.

“What did you say?” Your throat pulls tighter. Shit, shit, shit.

“Uh-um, that if you'd show me how you knead the dough.” He closes his eyes – idiot, idiot. You breathe out a small “oh” and shake the shock off of you as you nod and come behind him as you grab his hands in yours.

And fuck, Javier thinks his pulse went from zero to a hundred in this second. His heart feels like it will jump out of his chest any second. Your small hands on his makes him think back to a few weeks ago.

You stayed at Peñas that night. You always drove back home but that night it was raining a lot and it was too late anyways. You agreed as Chucho asked you if you wanted to stay – they had a smaller spare room right next to Javis. You bid them both good night and fell asleep quickly after that. You were exhausted but a scream woke you up and you swiftly stood up on your feet and scrambled into Javier's room. He sat on the bed – all sweaty, his breath quick as his head rested in his palms. He looked up at you when the old wooden floor creaked under your footsteps. He cleared his throat and tried to hide from you. You crouched in front of him and offered him a little smile.

“You don’t have to hide from me, Javi.” And then he was pulling you into him, breathing you in, his hands pulled around you tightly as he sobbed into your shoulder. He was exhausted of pretending everything was fine. The weight of all the things that he did in Colombia came crashing down on him. You just shushed him as he listened to your heartbeat – his head on your chest, your hand in his as you stroked the back of it. When he finally calmed down he told you everything – the things he did, the things he should have done and the things he shouldn’t have. He told you about Los Pepes and Carilo, and the nightmares that still haunted him.

“I am just a shell of a man I once was, Bee.” He whispered into the night and you grabbed both sides of his face as you frowned at him.

“You are far more than that, Javi.” He wanted to kiss you right there and then but you pulled him on your chest again and he breathed you in once more. The slow rise and fall of your chest lulls him to sleep. He never slept that well in his life.

When he woke up the other side of the bed was cold but the smell of you – like an apple pie – lingered on the other pillow and he wanted to drown in it. He stroked himself at the thought of you as he smelled the pillow. Your soft hands and the feel of your breasts against his face, the small brush of your lips against his forehead. He came embarrassingly quickly and couldn’t look you straight in the eyes for a few days after that. Neither of you talked about that night. As if it never happened.

So now he curses himself as he feels how he twitches in his pants – the soft swell of your breasts pressed up against his back. The collar of his shirt is a bit too tight as well as his pants. For fucks sake, Peña. He hasn’t slept with anyone since he came back home and it showed. You don’t seem to notice though.

“You are pretty clumsy with your hands, Javier.” He chokes on seemingly nothing and almost pushes you onto the ground as he stumbles a few steps back. Let me show you how good with my hands I can be -

“Gotta take a shower.” He says and he takes the steps by two - almost falling over. He closes the door of the bathroom with little more force than necessary. He scrambles with his closes almost ripping them from him and he grabs his aching cock – tugging on it firmly as a spurt of precum shoots out of the head. He steps into the shower – the spray of cold water not helping him calm down his hammering heart or the way his skin seems to be on fire. He strokes himself quickly – the strokes measured as he thinks of your pretty lips around him or that pretty pussy you sure have. He thinks of the swell of your breast on his back, your breath on the back of his neck, your hand in his, your pretty smile and kind eyes. He thinks about how you would feel around him if he pounded into you from behind or what sounds would you make when he would go down on you. How wet would you be? Are you the quiet type or would he have to put his fingers – or something else – in your mouth to shut you up?

He grunts and his forehead bumps onto the cold tiles of the shower as he cums. He watches how the water downs his spend and he tries to wash the guilt he feels off of him too.

You are not his type, he thinks as he tugs on his cock for the final time.

You are going on a date. Javier watches with a frown on his face as you fumble around to finish the dinner. You are wearing a pretty dress – a light green one with a flowy skirt that exposes the whole expanse of your back. The strings on your shoulder are the only thing keeping it in place. You look absolutely incredible. He didn’t want you to go. Fuck, what if the guy was some kind of psycho? Or worse, what if he was actually a decent guy and you'd stop helping Chucho because you would be too occupied with your new little boy toy? What would Chucho do without you – yes, Chucho of course, not Javier. Javier wasn’t jealous and he definitely wasn’t praying that your date would end up in disaster...Okay, he felt jealous. Like “I will rip that guy in shreds” type of jealous.

And Javier would be alone tonight – Chucho left in the morning to visit his “friend” - he knows he went to Mária living across from the barber's shop. He didn’t say anythimg – the lie falling out of Chucho’s lips easily. And he felt happy for him – him moving on meant he was healing. Slowly but healing. Javi wanted to do something nice for you two tonight– the store-bought cheesecake lying in the fridge. He thought that you could watch TV today – watch anything you wanted. Maybe then he would slip his hand under the hem of your dress and he would -

“Javi!” You wave your hand in front of his face and he blinks a few times. You even put on makeup – the red lipstick making your lips look downright edible and he licks his own lips. He could pull you in and make you forget about your silly little date. But for once in his life Javier didn’t want to be greedy when it came down to you – you seemed so excited when you told him you had a date and he planted on the best fake smile on his face he could muster. Even though he felt sick to his stomach when you told him, his fingers twitching to catch your wrist and pull you close – to tell you you should fuck that guy and stay with him tonight. “You listening?”

“Sorry, what did you say?” You groan in annoyance – already running late – and you grab him by the collar – oh, he likes this a lot. You are so fucking close he feels your breath fan across his face.

“Listen, Javi. I don’t have time for this. The Chiles Rellenos are in the oven so they won't get cold as quickly. If it gets cold just put it in the microwave.” he nods – he knows this, of course – but wants to keep you busy because maybe then your date would cancel – no, he can't.

“Okay.” He says slowly and you let go of the collar of his shirt – just now noticing you grabbed him by it. You pull away from him. “If anything-”

“I call you. You already told me. Don’t worry, dad. I'll be fine.” You grin and turn on your heel waving a quick goodbye before the doors shut behind you. Javier gulps the growing ball in his throat and curses at himself. Idiota. But you know - of course you are not his type.

Javier watches the starry sky tonight. The cheesecake forgotten in the fridge alongside your dinner – he felt so sick to his stomach he was pretty sure he'd throw up if he ate anything. The warm blanket his mother knitted lays heavy on his shoulder as he looks at the sky – millions of stars showing tonight. You'd love to see it – maybe you already are. Star-watching sounds like the kind of date you would have loved. He fiddles with the handle of his mug filled with hot cocoa in his lap and thinks. About how he got here, about his fuck ups – and the biggest fuck up he has ever done was to let you go on that stupid date, he concludes. Okay, maybe not the biggest fuck up but close enough. He straightens up when he spots a car pulling into the driveway – your car. A small grin makes its way onto his lips until he sees your sagged shoulders and the slow way you drag your heels behind you.

“You have room for another in there?” You ask – your voice small compared to when you left. Pointing a finger at the spot next to him. He nods quickly and when you sit he immediately wraps the blanket around your shoulders – your head resting on his shoulder. It's quiet for a while as he offers you his mug and you drink from it leisurely. He knows you will tell him what happened if you want to. The silence is not awkward – it’s a comfortable one. He always feels comfortable with you. You pull away from him and put the mug on the ground – pulling your knees close to your chin.

“Can I ask you something?” You look at him from the corner of your eye, your words muffled by your knees.

“Anything, Bee.” And he means that. You could ask him anything in the world and he would answer you no matter what question.

“Why am I not your type? You know, cuz it seems I am no one's type.” He knows you are referring to the time when he was angry at you after you slapped him. But he didn’t mean to say it. He doesn’t know how to answer – his tongue heavy all of the sudden and fuck, why is so hard to just tell you.

Rather than answering you he twists his torso so he can look at you – really look at you. The moonlight shines on half of your face and how did he never notice how pretty your eyes were? Or your plush lips, your soft hair? He gulps as he reaches forward tentatively – his palm resting on the side of your face now. And he expects you to pull away – to tell him to fuck off. But you don’t. His throat is dry and he feels like his lungs can't seem to have enough oxygen in them because his brain seems to stop functioning too. He brushes his fingertips across your cheek and you would have never expected that Javier Peña could be so gentle with his touch. He looks at your lips – your mouth open just a tiny bit and he sees your Adam's apple bob. Do you want this as much as he does? Or is he imagining things and projecting his own fucked up desires and feelings onto you at this very moment? He doesn’t have much time to think about it before your fingers tangle into his hair at the back of his head, his breath picks up and your mouth surges forward – your lips meeting his.

He feels like fireworks just exploded in his stomach. His skin tingles and his hands brush against the front of your dress. Your hand on his nape makes him groan into you and he brushes your collarbone with his calloused hand. He wanted this for so long and he didn’t even know about it. The other grabs you by the neck and pulls you even closer – the blanket falling off of you two when you swing your legs on either side of his narrow hips. He presses his lips against yours with more force and he is confident and greedy with it. He curls his hand around your waist and his fingertips dig into your hip while the other hand presses into your shoulder blades. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins and he is warm and fuzzy all over – his body humming with something he never felt before.

You were never kissed this way before – Javier takes, and takes but gives back even more in return. The kiss is impatient and hungry – like he waited for this all of his life. His hands on your skin make you hum out in pleasure and you trail your hand to his jaw – you can feel the stumble he has under your fingertips. You open your mouth to him and the hand on your hip squeezes you tighter, and he wants you closer, closer – this is not enough. Not close enough. And you feel the same as you pull him closer by the collar and he groans into your mouth. You can taste the warm cocoa on his tongue and his smell invades all your senses – cigarettes, his cologne and something entirely him. Musky and sweet. Your cheeks burn and your palms are sweaty when he pulls away from the kiss – his hands brushing along the exposed skin on your back, his thumb circling your hip. His forehead rests on yours as he tries to calm down and your nails scrape across his exposed chest – he always has a few buttons unbuttoned on his shirt and it drives you insane. He moans when he feels the sensation of your nails on his skin – his hips bucking up to meet yours and you mewl as you feel the bulge press up against your core.

“Fuck, Bee. I want to fuck you so badly. Do you want that too? Tell me. Tell me, please.” Javier Peña said please. He never says please. Yoou nod furiously as you peck him on the lips – his mouth surges to meet yours once again and you lap at his lower lip, your hands fisting into the material of his shirt.

“Wanted this since I was 16 and crazy in love with you, Javi.” You whisper against his lips and your confession makes his heart beat with joy. You loved him. He grips the flesh on your hips and mumbles a breathy “okay” before he stands up and carries you with him – your legs wrap around his middle. He stumbles a few times and almost trips on the stairs as he keeps kissing you – his tongue nibbling at your collarbones, his hands supporting your weight as he holds you by the back of your thighs.

When you arrive in his room he throws you on the bed and starts to quickly undress. His fingers shake and he can't seem to unbutton the fucking shirt. Fuck. He stands in front of the edge of the bed and you lean back on your elbows – your gaze heavy with lust. As you see him struggling you crawl onto the edge of the bed and loop your fingers between his belt. He stops and looks at you – you eye the heavy bulge between his thighs and he gulps when your fingers trail his jean-clad cock which jumps with interest under your touch. He has never been this fucking hard before and he knows it's not because for the past few months, the only thing he has been fucking was his fist – it's because of you. “Let me.” You murmur and he nods, he watches your nimble fingers working on his buttons and when he shackles the piece of clothing off him your hands map out his chest, coming down to his belly button and you lick your lips when you see the trail of hairs leading down into the waistband of his jeans. You kiss him right there – on the soft swell of his tummy – and he jumps forward, his hands gripping your head to keep you there. You grin against his skin and your tongue pokes out of your mouth to lick him there – he shudders, and the grip on your head loosens. You pull away from him and your hands start working on his belt – it falls to the ground with a quiet cling of the metal.

You cup him in your hand through the fabric of his jeans – even now you can feel how heavy he is and that he will feel fucking big inside of you. “You are a big boy aren't you, Javi?” He whimpers at your question and nods furiously as he looks down at you – your gaze immediately locking with his as you are already peering up at him through your eyelashes and you pout at his state. You never expected Javier to be so...needy. He closes his eyes when you squeeze him again and then he hears the sound of a zipper, he feels your breath ghosting over his tip. “No underwear?” He shakes his head and chokes when you lick the salty precum.

“No-no. Fuck. Too uncomfortable.” His eyes close as if he's in pain and his nostril flare when he feels the first velvety slide of your tongue against his cock. Your pulse quickens and you feel too fucking powerful right now as you feel him swell even more in your mouth. You hold his gaze as you pull off of him and flatten your tongue – licking your way to the underside of his cock. His hands cradle the back of your head, his pupils completely blown as he watches you put open-mouth kisses onto the hard warm flesh that jumps under your attention.

And he is fucking big – his size obvious by sight and by the way he feels around your hand – heavy and warm. But you really feel it when you take him deeper into your throat the girth of his cock opens your mouth wider. The broken sound between a whimper and a groan makes you clench around nothing and he tastes exactly how you imagined him – clean and delicious – exactly like Javier looks. You can't fit all of him in your mouth but you try – focusing on your breathing and relaxing your throat – the squelching sounds of your mouth bobbing up and down his length filling the room. You try to take him deeper and deeper – until you gag around him and pull away. Javis's mouth is wide open when you pull off of him – spit trailing from your lips and connecting you to the swollen tip of his cock. His chest heaves and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip – collecting the saliva – and puts it in his mouth – he groans with approval and it makes you want to give him more. You sink your awaiting mouth back onto his cock once more and moan when another spurt of precum lands on your tongue. Your hand is securely wrapped around the base of his cock as you stroke him slowly and you look back up at him.

He looks absolutely and positively wrecked – his hair falling in front of his eyes and sticking to his forehead as he grits his teeth struggling to not make you take him deeper – to not fuck your throat. His grip on your hair tightens as he starts panting harshly and you feel him twitch in your mouth – you can feel he is almost there – but then he pulls back from you.

He almost lifts you into the air as his tongue delves into your mouth – wanting to taste himself on you. The bitterness of himself on your tongue makes him groan into your mouth and you never expected him to be this vocal. He steps out of his jeans and then he is back on you – his fingers working on the straps of your dress while he plants butterfly kisses on the column of your throat. He discards the piece of clothing as if it has offended him somehow and he pulls back to look at you – you can see the muscle on his thigh flex as he tries to keep his balance on his heels. His hands reach back for you – grabbing you under your knees before he is pulling you closer to him. His fingers dip into the waistband of your panties before they are too thrown somewhere behind him.

His thick fingers work their way inside you without a warning – two of them plunging deep. You are soft, and pliant under him. Your walls squeeze him tight when he moves his finger up, up – until you sob and grab his wrist - to stop him or to plea for him to keep doing that you aren't sure. It never felt like this and he grins against the flesh of your cheek – kissing you there softly. His other hand grabs one of your tits and he pinches the nipple – it hardens under his hard touch. He bends down to suck it into his mouth and your hand shoots out to the back of his head – keeping him there. One of your thighs is firmly planted on his shoulder and his fingernails dig into your ankle, the blunt nails creating crescent shapes. Your heel digs into his shoulder with a particular shove into your cunt – the tips of his fingers brushing against something that makes you hold your breath.

The way you keep repeating his name makes him want to never leave your perfect cunt. His name and the wet sounds of your pussy sucking him in make him light-headed. He wishes no one would call him Javi again after he hears it from your mouth – whiny and high-pitched, filled with the need to let go.

“Come on, Bee. I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking give it to me. I want you to soak my fingers.” You nod vigorously and sob when his thumb starts drawing harsh circles against your clit. He hits nerves inside of you you didn’t even knew you had before. You take everything he gives – the flick of his wrist, his fingers petting your walls, his mouth on yours. You cum when he bites you into the juncture between your shoulder and neck – his tongue smoothing the bite. You feel him smile against your mouth when you cry out into him – his fingers still working inside of you until you wheeze and tell him to stop. He pulls them out and maps your body with your juices – the slick trail shining under the moonlight that falls onto the both of you.

He reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a condom – ripping the foil packet between his teeth before he puts it onto his length. He sits up on his heels – his cock bobbing with the movement and you gulp as he pats his thigh – telling you to come to him and you do – all jelly legged and sedated after your first orgasm. He pulls you close by the small of your back and his cock nudges against your entrance when you swing your legs around his waist. His hairy legs stick to the back of your thighs and you can feel the sweat rolling off him – his hands supporting you as you sink down on him. Your mouth forming into an “o” and you let out a breathless moan. You knew he was big – as his girth opened up your mouth more and the weight of him heavy on your tongue. But this feels entirely different. You squirm on his lap and he grunts – his other hand coming down onto the flesh of your ass. The pinch you feel as he fills you completely is uncomfortable and you grip his bicep – your nails digging into the flesh there. He hisses and kisses you – the kiss languid and slow. His tongue traces your mouth and your grip loosens – your muscles start to relax.

“Javi, you are so big.” You don’t say him to make him feel better or feed his ego – it's just a fact. Clear and simple. His nose bumps against yours and he looks into your eyes – he is so close he is breathing the oxygen you exhale.

“I know, hermosa. But you can take it. Can’t you?” The new term of endearment falling out of his mouth is surprising but welcome nevertheless. He waits for your answer as he fights himself not to move – your walls squeezing around him and he counts to five so he doesn’t cum right now like some kind of fucking teenager.

Javier slept with a lot of women. One night stands, prostitutes, his fiancé. But he never felt like this with anyone. His heart never hammered in his chest so quickly and the blood in his veins didn’t boil. His skin never felt like it was on fire by a simple touch. It's new and he welcomes it with open arms. He is tired of fighting and running. This is his new life and it's not too bad – it's better than it ever was. He never feels small with you and he chases that feeling.

“Yes, I can. I can take it. Please move, Javi.” He listens to your command – the first drag of his cock through your walls feels intoxicating. His hot breath fans against your chest as his forehead rests on it and his hand that was gripping your ass moves to your hip – dragging you up and down his cock as you meet his every perfectly measured thrust. He maps your body and listens to your reactions – he figures out what you like or what you really don’t after a few minutes as he pounds into you.

You don’t know which one of you is louder but it makes him even sexier – the guys you’ve been with before weren't so enthusiastic about it and you felt like they didn’t even wanted to be there – the only hint of them enjoying it was when they came with a quiet grunt and fall onto the bed next to you. Javier is different – he always was – and you live for all the sounds he makes. How he gropes you and maps out your body – his fingers dipping into every crease and curve of your body. And you can feel that in each thrust there is this hidden emotion that he doesn’t want to show. But you grew up with him and can read him pretty well – and your heart swells with the unspoken words. You don’t need to hear them. He will figure it out himself eventually.

He feels that you are close after he gives you a particularly hardh thrust and you squeal – your nails scratching his muscular back that you’ve been ogling anytime he came out of the shower without a t-shirt or when it was too hot outside and decided the piece of clothing wasn’t necessary in that kind of weather. His mustache scrapes along the flesh on your breasts and you feel his hips shift – the change of position making him feel even bigger. He puts his thumb into your mouth as he looks at you and you suck it – it tastes of you and sweat but you don’t care – as he pulls it out and starts rubbing your clit with it.

It only takes a few drags of his cock before you are cumming – your clit throbbing as he keeps pressure on it. Your walls squeeze him and he feels like he can't move any further. Your fingers curl into his hair and tug him so he is looking at you. He is all lust-blown eyes and his baring teeth turned into a snarl. You can feel every vein and bump in his cock with every thrust and he twitches inside of you – his hand coming to hold the hinge of your jaw as his tongue tangles with yours once again. It's frantic as are his deep thrusts and you are pretty sure he will break the bed soon – the headboard hitting the wall with every pass of his hips. You admire how fucking lost in you he looks – slack-jawed and dazed. You tug on his hair once more and the reaction is almost instant – his hips faltering for a moment seemingly losing his rhythm.

“Come on, Javi. I want you to look at me when you cum.” Your requests makes him shut his eyes before he shudders and opens them – your name a broken record when he spills into the condom. You scratch him on the back of his head – your movements slow and languid. He pulls out of you after a moment – when he catches his breath and his heartbeat evens out – even though when he is with you it seems impossible.

The aftercare is soft and sweet as he lays on his back and pulls you close to him – stroking your spine and kissing the top of your head.

“Do you want me to leave?” He pulls you tighter against him after you ask him that and he grips your chin so you look at him.

“Never again, Bee. I want you right here with me.” You sigh in contentment and give him a sweet kiss.

You are definitely his type, Javier thinks as he feels your breath even out and slowly, he falls asleep too – you in his arms – and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #javier pena reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #soft javi #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal ff #narcos smut #javier pena one shot

5K notes · View notes