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newtkive · 3 months

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confectionary clash - carmen berzatto

pairing: carmen berzatto x afab!reader (established relationship)

summary: carmy's girl is the human embodiment of a sweetheart. that is, unless it's that time of the month and richie provokes her.

wordcount: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, fighting, weaponized incompetence from richie but we still love him.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble but turned into 3k words. so it's written kinda like a drabble?? (hence the lowercase i can't be arsed to change) but just... long. idk hopefully its entertaining. also, i don't mean to demonize richie, he's my favorite character i think,, i just love writing him as problematic lmao cuz he's so funny. anyways, enjoy!

as carmy’s confidant and girlfriend, you were always the voice of reason. with just a string of words, you’d be calming him down after a hectic work day, giving him a fresh perspective on his work dilemmas since you were outside of the restaurant circle. in the time he’s known you, he hadn’t seen you do as much as barely raise your voice. maybe the occasional snap, but you always follow it up with swift apologies and big watery eyes.

that is, unless you’re in pain. specifically cramps. the sight of you 180ing from a sweet girl with a bright smile and even sweeter words, to an evil sorceress with spells rolling off your tongue, inflicting curses onto anyone who irritates you is jarring. a bit dramatic, sure, but that’s what you were during that time of the month—dramatic.

carmy tries best to dote on you. you would never ask him to go out of his way for something, unless it’s grabbing a heating pad or water, but carmy wants you to. it takes prying to hear your desires and cravings after asking a million times, and you begrudgingly give in with no expectations. nevertheless, you end up with exactly what you asked for, or something close to it, and you’re endlessly grateful.

on days when you stop into the restaurant when you’re feeling down, carmy enacts this same routine. if it’s food, he’ll cook it for you; desserts, he’ll grab any extras marcus has (or marcus happily makes it from scratch if they're not busy, claiming he needs the practice). if you want snacks, he sends his right hand man richie out to grab them despite your protests.

richie does it often whenever you stop into the store, and he acts like it’s a chore sometimes, but everyone has a hunch that he really loves it. come on, twenty dollars to get a few items for you and pocket the rest for himself? plus a break from work? done deal.

richie wouldn’t admit it, but he liked taking care of you too. you were always a sweetheart to him, but it wasn’t in his personality to be as sincere as you, so this was a little act of service to show his love. besides, the year and a half you’ve known him has definitely earned you the title of a friend, and you’d agree.

now, you don’t ever want to seem ungrateful, but when you ask for a specific treat, you get disappointed when you don’t really get it. maybe it’s the fluctuating mood talking, but you always end up snapping at richie due to his poor choices. if you ask for one thing, he’ll get you the next, and you even suspect he does it on purpose sometimes. pulling reactions from people is his specialty.

it’s not like you’re a complete bitch about it, because he took his time out to go get you something, but richie has a problem with weaponized competence even with his new and improved attitude. you know he can get you the jolly ranchers you suggested, but he chooses to grab goldfish because it’s closer to checkout. it was annoying, but you never really brought it up to carmy. it's not like you needed to, it wasn't a huge deal. you figured richie could use the little break, and you don’t hate the snacks he brings.

except on days like this.

you were at the restaurant on a slow day, dragged yourself out of bed despite your cramps just to see your little grumpy boyfriend and hide in his office. even as you entered the establishment through the back you glared at richie (who sweetly waved) in passing, side eyeing a few of the newbies who ran in front of you despite their apologies. none of your usual bright smiles and cheery greetings. the bee line straight to the office was a clear enough explanation for how you were feeling.

upon entering, carmy looked up in a panic, which quickly melted into a soft smile at the sight of his girlfriend. “hey, baby.” he cooed softly, immediately scooting back from his desk to reach out to grasp at your waist. you let him, but pushed down the irritation, not favoring touch at the moment. however, his rough hands sliding a little under your shirt to grasp at the flesh of your hips calmed you down, earning a small quirk of the lips from you.

“whatcha doin’ here, love?” he asks, bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss softly, still looking up at you.

you shrug, squeezing his hand, face a bit stoic. you’d been like this for a couple of days so he wasn’t surprised by your lack of friendliness. knowing you this long, carmy became accustomed to your monthly mood swings, and he felt privileged that you didn’t feel the need to put up an act for him.

“missed you.” you finally sighed, scooting closer so you stood between his knees. palms found both sides of carmy’s face and tilted it upwards a bit so you could study his appearance. stressed and tired. however, he seemed to glow at the mere admission of you missing him. it took a few seconds for his brain to rewire, looking up at you like you created the cosmos. the only reason you heard his soft, shy, ‘missed you too’ was because of the stagnant silence.

“hungry?” carmy asked, beaming from the attention. you shrugged again, allowing him to tighten his grip on your sides and tug you onto his lap. whining a bit in protest, you reposition yourself, legs falling over his lap and arms around his neck. your faces were closer now, and carmy looked at your sad eyes with a little pang in his chest. brows furrowing, he tilted his head and snuck a hand under your chin. long, tattooed fingers tickled at your chin, and before you knew it you were giggling and grinning while batting his hand away.

“cmon, i know you must want somethin’.” your grin was infectious and laced in his soft words. you hummed, already cheered up, and tapped a finger against your chin to make a thinking face. carmy chuckled, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes and patiently waited.

a thought crossed your mind and you met gazes again. “i might go grab some little debbie snacks from around the corner.” you decided and nodded to yourself as if solidifying your decision.

as you started sitting up more, carmy’s grip tightened on your waist. “ah, ah, no. stay here.” he protested. soon enough he was calling out ‘cousin!’ and richie came bounding over, opening the office door.

richie’s face used to contort in disgust at any visual sign of affection exchanged between you and carmy, but he was used to it now. “what’s up, cousin?” he asked, almost seeming out of breath, eyes flickering between the both of you.

a short exchange between the two occurred: carmy asking richie to run to the corner store, handing richie a twenty, and richie asking you precisely what you wanted. you made it simple and easy, something he could remember: oreos and ho-hos, a midwestern's guilty pleasure.

“ight, cap’n, i’ll be back.” richie says, saluting you two before heading out. both you and carmy exchanged an amused smirk, knowing the only reason richie went was to get himself some cigarettes and hot fries he would scarf down on the walk back.

in the twenty minutes richie was gone, the kitchen had gone to shit. the newbies had been running the wrong food to tables, online orders were filling the tablet nonstop due to a discount glitch, and carmy was close to losing it. sitting in the office, now alone with the muffled sound of your boyfriend yelling, you were more grumpy than before. arms crossed, you snapped your head to the side once the door creaked open. in walked richie with a plastic bag, inside of it holding your hope for a better day.

"what took you so long?" you frowned up at him, but sat up straighter in anticipation. you eyes almost shone as you looked at corner store logo on the bag.

"went the long way." he mumbled, digging in the plasic. the skeptical look on your face didn't leave as he pulled out an item and set it on the table. your frown deepened further as you noticed there was nothing at all you asked for, only met with a crushed sleeve of crackers.

“where are the oreos?” you sighed out, lips pursed in a bit of a pout.

“didn’t find any, so i got you some peanut butter crackers.” he mumbled, digging around the bag again, as if he didn’t just break your heart. if it was anyone else you'd believe them, but with richie you figured he just got bored of looking.

your jaw fell slack and you gaped like a fish for a moment, waiting for him to pull out more treats from his bag. but that time didn’t come, as he fished a pack of cigarettes out instead. “and the ho-ho’s?” your voice was hopeful.

richie perked up at that, putting the cigarettes down next to the crackers. the next second he presented you with a smushed mountain of brown and white concealed in a plastic wrapper sitting atop the palm of his hand. eyes flicking between the disappointment before you and his face, you frowned in disbelief.

richie only managed to emote as much as a ‘yikes’ face before placing it on the desk. “got smushed in transit, but tastes the same!” he gave his best attempt at a smile. your brows grew taut together and anger bubbled up in your chest. you were sure your face was quickly turning red.

“carmy gave you twenty dollars, and you come back with this?!” you hiss out, daring to look at the dry crackers and smushed up dream of a ho-ho. the sight only made you become angrier. this was something a senile old person would give you, not a competent 40-something-year-old man. his lack of care was clear, and you were boiling.

richie just scoffed—he had the nerve to scoff.

“no, not just that! i got a sprite and a few pack of cigs for myself and the guy.” he waved around one of them to prove his point. if you thought you were mad before, you reached a new level of anger. usually, you’d deal with the disappointment and thank richie for even going—aside from a smart alec remark.

however, the demon conducting your period for this month did not make your rational decisions seem clear nor enticing. as you shot up from carmy’s chair, you only knew you wanted to make richie as upset as you were in this moment.

with one finger poking his chest, you began raising your voice. as soon as you started talking, richie's eyes turned wide as saucers, exactly like a deer in headlights. a string of curses snuck into your tirade, between phrases such as “you always fucking do this richie!” and “are you fuckin’ dumb?! did you get dropped on your head?!”. you only figured he didn't fire back right away because he was so stunned.

outside of the office, the kitchen was calmer now. things were finally falling into order but still required carmy’s supervision until the sudden rush ended. the only disturbance was you. now, it was your voice yelling behind closed doors and not carmy’s.

the chef—in the middle of helping sydney plate a dish—just about gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned around to look at the barely cracked door of the office. there was the telltale muffled yelling, but what shocked him was it was clearly you yelling.

turning back around, carmy gawked at sydney who silently shared the same look of surprise. it was only until they heard richie start yelling back that sydney silently pushed him toward the door. it didn’t take more than a second for carmy to snap out of his surprise and march over to the office.

throwing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder, he yanked the heavy door open before all but body slamming his way into the room and slamming the door closed. the yelling was suddenly clear, as if carmy was being pulled out from underwater.

“YOU GET ME WHAT I ASKED YOU, OR GET ME NOTHING AT ALL!”

“THEN YOU’D BITCH ABOUT THAT TOO—“

“OR NOTHING AT ALL!”

“hey, hey, HEY!” the two of you were too busy at each others throats to even hear carmy enter, until his voice brought you both to a halt, heads turning towards him.

carmy’s eyes were immediately glued to you, not paying the least bit of attention to richie. your arms were stiff as boards to your sides, fists and jaw clenched, brows taut, and race beet red. the man had never seen you look like this before, and his instinct to comfort you took over. turning to richie with a look that could kill, carmy finally spoke. “what did you do?”

“what did i do?! except take precious time to get your girl shit she didn’t even want?!”

an offended gasp left your mouth, and you retorted instantly. “oh please! because a crushed up sleeve of crackers and a mountain of mushed up cake is just what i asked for!”

“you’re ungrateful.” richie pointed a finger at you now. carmy launched forward and slapped it down. he knew richie would never hurt you, and you knew it too, as you just rolled your eyes in response, but carmy’s instinct’s took over. richie didn’t even look phased, just irritated. carmy stood in front of you and forcefully turned richie around by his shoulders to send him to the door. if carmy didn't have half of a sane mind, he would’ve kicked richie's bottom with his shoe for good measure.

“go take a break chef! or do whatever the fuck, i don’t care.” carmy shouted after richie, and the man left with a slam of the door.

you simply watched the scene unfold with arms crossed and that same deep set frown. carmy turned around to face you as the air settled, a hand running through his hair. blue eyes raked over your tense form and carmy decided he would give you a little space to calm down. however, the second he saw your bottom lip wobbling and eyes grow watery he threw that thought to the wind

“hey, no, no, don’t cry.” carmy extended his arms and collected you into them. the tense posture you held relaxed into his slouched form as he held you close; one hand in your hair, and the other rubbing circles on your back as you sniffled.

a pit of guilt burned in your stomach and spurred you into attempting to bury yourself into carmy. blue straps of his apron rubbed against your cheek as you shuffled impossibly closer. usually, carmy would love this, but right now he'd do anything to not see you so out of it. shushing you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

there were a few beats of you hiding away before you decided to pull back a bit to face him again—and boy did you look pitiful.

the same cheeks previously bright with anger were now flush with embarrassment and stained with tears. a tattooed hand found itself sitting on your cheek, thumb rubbing under your eye to collect a fallen tear. at the touch, your eyes fluttered closed, and carmy’s heart broke at the sight.

“you gonna tell me what happened?” your boyfriend asked, trying not to make you feel even more guilty. his full attention was on you. exhaling slowly, your eyes fluttered back open and were met with those bright blue ones that always calmed you down.

“i dunno, i just-“ you shook your head and carmy waited patiently, “it wasn’t even a big deal, but richie just really set me off for some reason.”

“yeah, may as well join the club.” carmen’s words were light, not at all sarcastic, but aiming to ease you and bring out a smile. it worked, your lips turning upwards and carmy mimicking the half smile. he looked down at you with such love, head tilted to follow every time yours moved, and thumb caressing your cheek as he took in every expression.

your smile finally faltered as you glanced back at the office desk. “i feel so awful. he went out and got me stuff and i just yelled at him.” you sputter out.

carmy followed your gaze over his shoulder to finally see what started all of this. at the sight of the crackers and ball of what looked like mush, carmy scoffs in both disbelief and amusement, because of course richie would bring you that. turning back towards you, the chef finally gets it.

“baby, if someone brought me that shit while my insides were shedding i’d kill them.” he chuckled.

“really?” you asked hopefully, smile forming again.

“yes, really. even if i wasn’t goin’ through that i’d actually kick his ass.” carmy mirrored your smile.

nodding, you let yourself chuckle along with him. strong arms found you again and you were wrapped in a tight hug, allowing his squeezes to take away some guilt you were feeling. a moment passed and you knew carmy had to get back to work. with a sigh, you pulled back.

it was your turn to reach up and cup his cheek. guiding his face close, you met him halfway and pressed your lips to his in a kiss. lips moving against his, your noses brushed, and after a moment you let the kiss dissipate; lips slowly falling away from where they were molded together. one last peck was placed on carmy’s lips, as if saying, ‘thank you for being so attentive’. that earned an appreciate hum.

you both beamed, faces still close as you came back down to earth. “you gotta get back to work, and i gotta apologize.” you murmured and carmy nodded obediently.

with apprehension, carmy let you go, arms floating in the air for half a second as he walked backwards towards the door. “don’t go easy on him, though. richie lives for a fight. that was probably his anger management for the day.” carmy smirked, grasping the doorknob.

you just shook your head, eyes narrowed teasingly. before he turned to leave, you called out to him. “thank you, carmy.”

the man just gave you a confused look, chuckling. “don’t thank me, you're my girl.” with that he was back to work and you were left to your own devices. with one more glance at the monstrosity on the office desk, you left the room and went on a search for richie.

thirty minutes later, carmy was due for a smoke break and approached the back door. he slowed his tracks, lighter and cigarette in hand as he cracked the door and heard giggling. the sight before him was drastically different than before: you and richie sitting on a ledge next to each other, giggling and bumping shoulders. carmy breathed out a laugh at the sight and fully walked out. this caught both of your attention, grinning ear to ear as you clearly made up.

“hey, cousin!” richie grinned, and you both waved. figures.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear #the bear imagine #carmy berzatto imagine #x reader #carmen berzatto imagine

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11vr1 · 11 months

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Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

#iivri writes ˚·⊹ ⟢˖∿#spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse spoilers #spiderman #miles morales #prowler miles #earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #angst #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman angst #spiderman fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #Spotify

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sturnlovr · 8 days

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𝑷𝑶𝑳𝑨𝑹𝑶𝑰𝑫 ┆彡

Pairing: boyfriend/dom!chris • poc/sub!reader

Summary: you and your boyfriend are messing around with a polaroid camera, which suddenly takes a quick turn . . .

Warnings: smuttyy, p in v, overstimulation, pet names (baby), fingering, degradation if you squint, faux sympathy, getting caught?, oral (fem receiving), choking.

Authors note: SORRY THIS IS REALLY SHORT IM WORKING ON A LONGER FIC RN AND THIS IS JS A LITTLE FILLER (also i didnt add a taglist because its not letting me tag people)

NOT PROOF READ !!

comment here to be added to the taglist

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

You were currently in the triplets house, specifically your boyfriend, chris sturniolos room. You were taking polaroids of him in his clothing brand, fresh love to post on insta and include in orders.

"Okay, now just sit still on the bed with your arms crossed . . . no wait run your fingers through your hair theres a peice sticking out" You try to explain to chris who was lost in his own world.

"Like this?" He questions, running his hands through his locks, the triggering strand of hair still out of place.

You groan, growing annoyed,

"No, just like this," you huff, straddling him to fix it and any other imperfections. Your tits slightly bounce infront of his face, you feel him smirk under you and the tent in his grey fresh love sweats slowly rising.

The boy puts his hands on your hips initiating you to rock on his lap,

"Chris we need to finish these pictures," You breathe out, trying to hide how turned on and wet your becoming. His grip on you is so strong that your struggling to get out of it.

"I was thinking we could take some photos of you?" Your boyfriend suggests, still keeping his firm grip, tracing random lines with his finger on your thighs.

"I dont know chris.." You bury your head in his neck, you have always been camera shy.

"It'll be fun baby, i promise" He whispers the last part in your ear before gently nibbling on it, making you practically drenched through your clothed pussy.

You nod and pull him in for a kiss which was soft and sensual, which turned into a sloppy and heated one. He bites your bottom lip, swapping spit with you. You start to grind on him, making him groan into the kiss which gave you a chance for your toungue to take dominance. He quickly grabs the camera, snapping a polaroid of the two of you making out and letting the photo drop on the bed.

You both pull away, his lips swollen, puffy and tinted purple. Chris removes your oversized fresh love shirt which left you in only your thong, no bra. He picks you up and places you on the edge of his bed. Chris forces your legs open, smiling at the thong that your wearing. it's his favourite.

He yanks it off, stuffing it into his pocket. The confused expression on your face is interrupted by chris' toungue plunging into your hole. His toungue explored your walls, it didnt seem like he was going to stop anytime soon. He was drunk on your pussy. His toungue pulled out and flicked your clit. As you reached your high, you let a loud moan slip out which causes him to stop.

"We have to be quiet baby, you dont want my brothers to hear your pretty noises do you?" You mutter a soft okay before chris runs a finger through your folds collecting your juices and bringing it to his mouth, pulling them out, making a pop sound while keeping intense eye contact before switching his focus back to your pussy.

"So fucking wet for me" He groans with his mouth near your entrance which sent vibrations through your body making you cover your mouth with your hand, hiding your moans. He takes the polaroid camera and takes a shot of your drenched pussy.

Without warning, your boyfriend pushes a finger into you, you whimper quietly feeling empty.

"Chris..." you whine,

The brunette chuckles at the sight of you,

"Awh, does the slut want more of my fingers?" He puts in another finger, thrusting it in and out at a high speed, curling it into your g-spot.

"Fuck this," He says in a low tone, slapping your hand away from your mouth,

"Wanna hear those pretty sounds," He adds a third finger into you. You move your hands to his brown curls, tugging at them while pornographic moans leave your mouth. Nick and Matt can definitely hear you.

"Oh, s-shit" you barely get the words out.

"Tell me what you want baby," His thumb finds your clit and starts to circle it.

"f-fuck i need you in m-me" you stutter as your legs start to shake, chris pulls you into another messy kiss, his fingers still moving at rapid speed.

"Let go for me ma" You instantly cream, your cum dripping out of you, of course ; chris takes another photo of this. He moves you further into the bed and flips you over so your head is facing the bed.

Chris takes his sweatpants and boxers off, throwing them somewhere in the room. He slaps your ass, kneading it shortly after.

"Ass up,"

you comply with his orders, raising your ass so it's on display below him. He hums and gives you another smack to your ass, leaving a stinging sensation.

He teases you, running his length across your entrance a few times before ramming into you, making you scream and see stars. He brings his mouth down to your back and peppers wet kisses in a trail, sucking on certain places being sure to leave a mark. He quietly whimpers, enjoying the feeling of being in you while trying to keep his dominant act.

"You close?" Chris pants, keeping his fast pace intact. You attempt to respond, but it comes out as estranged moans,

"Im fucking you dumb hm? you can't even get a word out. it's pathetic. " He scoffes and wraps his hand around your neck, slightly squeezing it. You squirm under him, trying to be free of his grasp, your sensitive bud pulsating at every thrust.

"Take it," He says through his teeth, throwing his head back at how tight you are. His thrusts start to get sloppier and slow down,

"Cum with me ma" You both release at the same time, his seed and your juices spill out together, Chris takes a polaroid of your mess before taking you to the shower to get cleaned up.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

You and chris come home from a date the next day, his arm around your shoulder as you enter his room to see matt holding one of the polaroids you guys took the other night. Your eyes instantly widen at the boy in chris' room, his face scrunched up with disgust. He turns to chris, not even looking at you.

"Next time, keep your door locked if you have weird shit like this in here"

He walks out, throwing the polaroid in his brothers face, who laughs at this. Your face burns with embarrassment, turning your dark skin to the slightest colour of pink.

𓂃⊹ ִֶָ

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris smut

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messylustt · 10 months

Text

STRESS RELIEF ( nsfw ) — miguel o’hara + reader: mr. o’hara just wants to help his babysitter with her tension.

marks nsfw. babysitter!reader x dad!miguel au. fingering. erotic massage. intended slight age gap (you’re a collage student). praise (I have to). forbidden. use of ‘cariño’ (it’s clearly my fav pet name). slight overstimulation. also a fraction unedited. wc 1.5k.

you took a breath as you knocked on the large door. you had gotten this job through the long winded grapevine. a person heard from a person and so on…

so, you barely knew the family, just that they needed a babysitter. you were in collage so any extra money was eagerly appreciated.

you heard some scuffing of assumable feet before the door opened. and as you stood expecting an older man or woman, you were silently surprised to see him.

he opened the door with a fluid motion that showed his ease and strength, as he continued to tie his black tie with his other hand. he caught your gaze and you actually gulped. because for one second his eyes looked…red?

“mr. o’hara?” you carefully ask, as you try not to let your gaze drift down his well built, suited body.

“mhm, you must be the…babysitter. miss y/l/n?” he checked, to which you nod, brushing your hands down your plain shirt. you tried to dress at least a little nice, wanting to appear fit to look after this family’s kid. or…single father?

you weren’t sure, because when you glanced at his hand you saw no ring. but you didn’t inquire, finding it would be rather rude and unimportant. you smile. “sorry, i hope i’m on time.”

miguel just hums, and as you briefly glance behind him at his house’s interior, he gets the chance to let his gaze wander, still slightly fiddling with his tie. you looked put together, polite. “she’s just in the lounge.” miguel said, his gaze stopping at your chest, which slightly heaved a fraction too heavy.

he tilted his head, stepping aside to let you in. and as you carefully stepped through, miguel stayed in the doorway, your shoulder slightly brushing his chest. “you seem nervous.”

“what?” you quickly glance back at him, once completely inside. “i mean…sorry, mr. o’hara?” you tried to stay polite. because if he thought you were nervous for the wrong reasons he might not let you stay.

“you’re quite a polite thing, aren’t you? a uni student, correct?” miguel asks, shrugging his suit jacket on. you ignore the way his muscles practically scream to be let free from the constricting material, as you yet again smile.

“yes, sir.”

“it’s alright, cariño.” he very vaguely chuckles. “you don’t have to be that polite.” he’s now buttoning part of his suit.

you can feel your heart beat a fraction quicker at the pet name, as you press your lips together, trying your best to not look flustered in any way. miguel glances back up at you. “just make sure she’s in bed before eight. she’s an early riser.”

you nod. “of course. any food preferences?” you ask, as you again look around at the simple decor.

“anything in the fridge should be fine. and please, help yourself.” miguel says, as he slips his arms into his even bigger coat, almost ready to leave for the night.

then just as he turns, he pauses, seeming to realise something. “oh.” he grabs a left over note from his pocket, along with a pen. he edges closer to your. “turn around a moment.” he says, to which you slowly do. then he’s stepping much much closer, pressing the piece of paper to the top of your back, scribbling something with the pen.

you ignore the way his warm breath tickles your skin, as his hand moves to slightly hold the back of your neck, keeping you still. then when he pulls away, you see his entended hand with his written number.

“if anything happens, call me.” he says. and you’ve noticed something. maybe it’s because he doesn’t know you, but his face has stayed its monotoned expression for the entire conversation.

“of course.” you nod. he copies the nod, as his tongue comes out to lick part of his lips, his gaze slightly dropping before he’s opening the door with a bag slung over his shoulder.

;;

it was late when miguel opened the door to his house. and when he shrugged off his coat, walking into the lounge he spotted you, head knocked back over a seat. your shirt has slightly ridden up, and as he scouted the room he spotted things such as sketch pads and pencils, along with drawings of fairys and such.

when he carefully picked a page up, clearly drawn by his daughter he saw what looked to be you and her holding hands. she liked you.

miguel glanced back to your calm, sleeping form. it was 11 at night now, so gabriella must be asleep. he edged closer to you. his daughter took awhile to feel comfortable with new people, so the fact that she had drawn you certainly meant something.

miguel was now towering over you, as you breathed, eyes closed. he could see a few books and your computer beside you on the couch. you must have been studying. you must be exhausted. miguel found himself sitting on the couch, unbuttoning his jacket.

he should probably wake you up, but you just looked to peaceful. a little longer won’t hurt. miguel’s gaze began to get caught up in the sliver of skin that was on display, your shirt very ruffled. he reached out to gently pull it down, straightening out the creases.

you slightly moved at this, your legs stretching out, and landing right over his lap. he froze a moment, his hand still by your stomach, as your hair moved to stick to your lips. and miguel found himself pulling the strand away, brushing part of your lips.

his claws were out, since he was in some sense alone. he kept his true being a secret, but when he got home from work his fangs and claws always came out, his entire body relaxing. so, now his claw was brushing your smooth skin.

he probably shouldn’t be touching you, waking you up instead, telling you to go home. but you were just so…polite…sweet…and asleep on his couch. it would be rude to wake you up now, especially after his daughter had taken a liking to you. yeah…you could stay a little longer.

but then your body shifted again, or more accurately your leg did, your calf slightly brushing along his…somewhere that shouldn’t be reacting to the movement. he gulps, feeling his fangs now completely out. they always did appear when he wanted something, bad. but what he was beginning to think that he what he wanted, he quickly looked away from you.

you needed to move your leg. he looked back at your oblivious face. but you looked so…no. miguel swiftly moved your legs, placing them back on the couch. but just as he stood, cursing at himself, he felt a small hand grab around his dress shirt’s sleeve. he looked to you and your outstretched hand.

then your eyes began to open, blinking sleepily. you then spotted your grip and where—who—it was attached to. with widening eyes, you quickly let go, moving to sit up. “m-mr. o’hara, i’m— god, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to fall asleep, I was just…”

"hey...” miguel found the seat beside you again, gently placing his hand on your shoulder. “calm down…you’re alright.”

you met his gaze, and blink a few too many times. was that…fangs you just saw? miguel seems to realise his mistake as he quickly looks away. his body tensed as he forced his body out of relaxation, his fangs disappearing along with his claws.

you were sleep deprived…yeah, that was it. you shake your head, standing. “sorry, sir. uh…gabriella is in bed. she’s been there since eight.”

miguel nods, standing now too. “good.” he glances at your strewn out study notes, to which you quickly rush over and pack them up, stuffing them, along with your computer in your bag. “i should go…um…thank you, sir…for the opportunity. your daughter’s lovely.”

miguel watches you slightly rush, acting as if you had been caught doing something wrong. you had done nothing wrong. in fact, you had done everything right.

miguel stops you, as you had just slipped your shoes back on. you shift your gaze to him, as you try to soothe out your messy hair. he tilts his head a fraction, an actually amused feeling blossoming inside him as he stared at your flustered state.

“i’m out next week. same day, same time...” he says, as he slipped the money into your jacket's pocket.

you stopped your rushed movements. was he?… “you want me to come back?” you’re slightly surprised.

“mhm.” miguel nods, handing you a left behind note that fell on the floor. “can you make it?”

you quickly nod. “yes. yeah, i can make it.” you felt relieved. it meant you did something right.

miguel nods. “good. i’ll see you next week.”

;;

throughout the week you had grown nervous again, sinking back and forth into just bailing. but now you are stood in front of his door, straightening out your skirt. the door was pulled open, and miguel was suprised to feel a little...light upon seeing you and your shy smile. "come in." He stepped aside as you ventured in, past him.

miguel's body tenses as you pass him, a lovely scent wafting off you. it was the same as last time, but for some reason he seemed to notice it more. it made his fangs and claws itch to come out. he coughs, watching as you gaze around. "same bedtime, same thing with the food. i noticed you didn't eat anything last time..." miguel hums, making you meet his gaze. "please do. you seemed exhausted."

"i’m sorry, i really didn't mean to fall asleep—"

"that's not what i'm saying." miguel cuts in, shaking his head. "you're studying, it's expected. if you need a break to rest, the couch is free to you."

you slightly smile at this. "that's very nice of you mr. o'hara, thank you."

then he's nodding and leaving out the door.

;;

even though he offered, you just couldn't bring yourself to eat or fall asleep. so, when miguel arrived back home seeing you head first into your studies, with a clearly full fridge his brows furrowed.

you didn't hear him at first, as he removed his coat and jacket, rolling his sleeves up. he walked closer, looking down at your partially hunched posture as you bit your lip, stressed. he tilted his head, actually feeling concerned. "you should take a break."

you swiftly turn, clumisly standing. "mr. o'hara. i...i didn't hear you, sorry."

"stop apologising..." miguel begins before pausing. "actually no, you should be apologising." he stepped closer, taking the note out of your hand. "you need to give yourself time to rest...relax."

"i’m alright." you smile at his kindness, but miguel just shakes his head, crossing his arms.

"i can't have my babysitter feeling exhausted."

you shake your head, thinking he means for the worst. "i promise, i’m fine." you didn’t want him to fire you. the money was good.

"sit down." miguel said, directing you back onto the couch, as he moves your study notes and computer, so that he can take a seat beside you. your brows slightly furrow. "turn the other way."

cautiously you do, your back now facing him as you sat, a tad curious. and then his hands are on your shoulders adding a tad of pressure. your eyes widen as you try not to slump into his strong, big hands. "what are you..."

"shh, it's okay. i just want you to be less tense." miguel calmly says, beginning to massage the tight knots in your muscles. “you’ve just done so well looking after my daughter…” you can feel your body relax more and more into his hands.

“shit…” you mutter, pressing your lips together to hold back unwanted noises.

“mm?” miguel shifted closer to your back, his breath by your ear, as his hands did wonders on your shoulders and the top of your back.

your head begins to loll backwards, but you quickly snap it back up. “no, no. that’s alright.” miguel grabbed your chin, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“are you sure…you really don’t have don’t this.” you say, but he continues, moving even closer so that you’re practically flush against his front as his hands continue it’s massage.

“yeah…it’s alright, cariño. i need you feeling good.” miguel says, as you can’t help but shut your eyes, fully laid against him. god, you felt good.

“mm.” miguel hums, almost to himself, as his hands move slightly to your neck and collarbone. it was hard to keep his claws in, but he manages, feeling an even bigger urge to continue getting rid of your tension.

“you seem to work so hard, miss y/l/n.” he says, your chest seeming to heave a fraction harder. you hope he doesn’t notice. he does, a slight smirk edging his lips, as his hands shift further down, getting the top of your chest.

as he massages a certain point on your chest, a small mix of a groan and a whimper falls from your lips. your cheeks flushed as you felt incredibly embarrassed. you were acting as if no one had touched you.

but miguel appreciated the sound. “i like hearing that.” he lowly whispers by your ear, making you shiver. “it shows I’m doing good.”

“this is v-very nice of you, sir.” you gulp out, trying not to let your thighs rub together.

“yeah? that’s good. as i said i need my babysitter feeling good.” miguel’s hands have edged closer and closer to tits. bot quite touching, but your hardened nipples under bra kinda wants him to.

“mr. o’hara…?” you slowly question, as his breathing turns a little shallower. his fingers slightly brushing along your clothed nipples. your body tensed. “hey, it’s alright. just making you feel good, mi cariño.”

now your breathing is mismatched, as he brushes over your nipples again. his mouth has slightly opened by your neck, his lips carefully dragging, as his massaging has begun to make work on your tits. “these feel a little sore.” he mutters against your skin, as he squeezes and plays with them.

“m-mr. o’hara—“

“shh, it’s okay. you’re okay. you feel good don’t you? that better?” miguel quietly coos, as he presses you harder against him, his arms entirely around your body now.

you can’t reply as your breathing stutters, his hands feeling so good. you slightly rub your thighs together as subtly as possible. miguel places a small kiss on your rapidly heating pulse. “you are very tense, y/n.” he comments, his hands now dragging down your stomach, which is contracting a fraction.

he gazed down at your pressed together thighs, as he keeps your head rested back against his shoulder. then his hands tighten around them, drawing your legs open, making your heart thump. and not the one in your chest…

miguel coos by your ear, acting as if this normal. as if this is fine. “are you sore down here, cariño? uh huh…i think you are…”

your head is spinning, as miguel draws your legs even farther apart, making your skirt push up to your hips, revealing your panties. you slightly shift, going to speak, but miguel just whispers, kissing your neck again. “shh, you’re okay, mi cariño…just wanna make you feel less tense…it’ll help you focus won’t it?”

then his fingers drag along your clothed pussy, making you jolt. “mm…yeah, look at you. you need to relax.” miguel had begun to rub your throbbing clit making choked whines leave your open lips.

miguel grins against your skin, rubbing a little harder. “aw…you are sore, y/n. you just wanted some help. i can help you, cariño.”

then you suddenly jolt, feeling something sharper scrap against your pussy, the feeling making your body buzz. miguel couldn’t hold back his claws and fangs for much longer, especially at the feel of you coming undone in his arms.

he doesn’t stop even as you mutter “what…” he just rubs harder, making your hips grind on their own. “that’s it, grind into my hand.” miguel breathes. “make yourself feel better.”

he then slips past your panties, spreading your wetness around. “oh, your body likes that? doesn’t she? carajo…your pussy is practically begging to be touched…”

his claws against your most sensitive spot makes whimpers and moans fall even easier. and as he slips two fingers inside you, a small yelp spills as he begins to finger fuck you. the sounds obscene, as he shush’s and coos in your ear. “doing so good…so good, my pretty little girl. my fingers making you feel good.”

his claws were hitting against your g-spot making you slightly squirm against him. “w-what are those?” you manage as his fingers quicken inside you, your walls clenching around him.

“they’re just claws, cariño.”

even though you could feel that they are so, your eyes still widen. “what?”

“but it’s okay, because they feel good don’t they? you’re squirming like that because they feel so good inside you. i certainly like the feel of them inside you…inside your pretty little hole.”

his fingers quicken, making your stomach contract. “mm, can you cum for me? it’ll help release all that tension. come on. cum.” his words become a little more like a demand as he thrusts up into you.

and when your orgasm crashes over you, your head now thankful for the support of miguel’s shoulder, you entire body is flushed, your hips pathetically riding the high out as miguel doesn’t pull out.

“m—“ you choke out because he isn’t slowing, continuing to fuck you with his long fingers. “mr—“

“sorry…i just…you do feel really good. i’m just imagining what it would feel like…having my cock inside you…just give me a moment.” he mutters. the overstimulation is making you squirm again as you breathe hard.

“your pretty hole taking all of me. fuck—i don’t think i could pull out. just like how my fingers don’t want to leave you.”

your stomach is tightening again. “no…i wanna feel this pussy for as long as I can, cariño…maybe all night…”

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madwomansapologist · 17 days

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Hello!!! I was wondering if you could write headcannons of the BG3 companions and a dragon bloodline sorcerer tav? Especially their reactions to their more dragon like tendencies like hoarding things or their wings when they level up (draconic sorcerers get wings at lvl 14 table top and 11 in bg3 ) that would be great ❤️

bg3 companions with a draconic sorcerer!tav

Navigation | More Weirdos | AO3

synopsis: How would they react to their leader as a draconic sorcerer?

warnings: austim be danmed my girl can study about dragons (lae'zel).

note: that made me want to play as a draconic in the future. thanks for your request, i hope you like it!

Lae'zel

You got her attention immediately. All other races are as alien to a githyanki as themselfs are for those across Faêrun, but she knew a lot about draconics still. A interest of hers that she wasn't able of shutting down, don't matter how efficient and practical she achieved to be.

She always had a soft spot for dragons. A gith can't waste its time dreaming, but who can control it? She wanted so bad to be a dragon rider. When she learned there were races of people who descended from dragons, it was only natural she would want to learn about them.

Upon meeting you, part of her brain was just trying to analize. To learn from what type of dragon you descended. Her interest on you was purely academic.

She wondered if you had noticed how possessive you are. Lae'zel knows you're one of the most selfless people she ever met, the amount of times you lose something so someone could be safe... and still, you are so possessive.

You would kill Cazador with your bare hands and bring Astarion his head, but would never let him use one of your necklaces. Once she heard you hissing because he touched your things.

Exploring Baldur's Gate, everyone got stronger. When your wings evolved, Lae'zel seemed allured by them. So intricate and strong. Beautiful. A sign of your effort and talent. You deserved them.

"Just another proof of your strenght, zhak vo'n'ash duj. Our enemies will tremble before you. I already do."

Shadowheart

Something about you felt... familiar. Like she already knew you. Maybe she did. Or perhaps it was someone familiar. Maybe it was just the highs from being saved from a nautiloid. Still, Shadowheart couldn't help but to take a liking to you.

She never had a draconid friend, not that she remember at least, so it took her a bit to get used to the differences. It's impossible not to bring attention upon your group with your height and wide body. The teeth were certainly something she was highly aware.

Shadowheart thought it was enduring how you would always ended with the party's gold on your pockets. You say you will deal with the finances, and you really do that and do it well, but she knows mostly it's because you need to have it near you.

When your wings were strong enough, she would always find an excuse to hug you. It was so warm to feel your wings around her body. Shadowheart feels so save between your arms. So at peace.

"Before you I thought I knew what true embrace felt like. I was wrong. Thank you, my sweetest lover. For opening my eyes."

Astarion

Your size was intimidating. You could be an awful obstacle for his safety, but gladly you were kinder than Astarion could expect. You were way more than Astarion could ever expect.

After a while, it was interesting to learn more about you. So wide, and still so delicate. So scary, and yet so good. So moral, and yet so capable of violence.

For a draconic, it was a bit cliche that your go-to spells were fire ones. And he made sure to tell you that.

Once Astarion saw your wings, for some reason Astarion felt... proud. It just felt right for you to be rewarded after everything you did to them. To him. And it also made you look even more alluring.

"Another fireball, darling? Really? In this tiny room? Alright. Whatever feels right to you."

Gale

It was incrible to have another magic bender in the party! There are a few differences in styles and in the path you both want to go down, but at the end you both share the same goal.

Either as a student or as a natural vessel, the weave conects you both. It feels lovely to have someone who can see how the entire world moves because of it. To have someone to go for when doubts about new spells pop up, or that understands that he can't spend a long time in the battle field. Someone that just understands.

Gale was so curious about the limits of your body. Merely academic curiosity! He meet a few draconics before, but never he spend such a long time beside one.

It was mesmerizing to see you sleep in a nest. Not really one, but basically a nest. Everything looks so comfortable. So you. The best blankets, your favorite jewels, some gold.

Gale Dekarios is a student before all. And you quickly became his favorite subject.

"Don't they make you trip, my love? Ah, I see, your body was made for those, dare I say, beautiful pair of wings. If you ever feel the need to rest while you get used to them, just say the word."

Wyll

You weren't the first draconic Wyll befriended. Your race may be not so common in some parts of Faêrun, but he is not one to be surprised by your needs and habilities. Wyll is always ready to help you, don't matter what.

You need more space at camp, every armor needs to be wide enough to fit your wings, swords can't be tiny so your handle turns weak. Wyll is just waiting for you to need him so he may act.

The hoarding turned into a problem so quickly. Every damn thing "could be necessary". Forks? Rotten watermelons? Half-eaten apples??? And don't you try to say those are culture differences. Those are problems.

Once someone aimed at your wings during a fight. You barely were able to see the energy rays before their body burned to ashes.

"The Blade stands at your side, dear one. My duty is with your safety."

Karlach

Our girl on fire saw more dangerous things than a dragon's bloodline. Still, it was good to see a good fighter. She has the muscles, and you the brains. A perfect duo, one could say.

She thought was sweet your tendencies. How you wrap your tail around your companions that are being threatened. Or how the glow of jewels can make you break your neck just for a glance.

Karlach loves the fact you are also build bigher, just like her. It's good to not have to look down at someone, or to not break her back in a attempt to be at the same high as you.

She got so scared when your wings evolved. She didn't knew it was something that could happen to draconics that turned really strong. For a whole minute, she thought you went through some sort of body horror kinda of shit. She knows a lot about it, so it was really good to hear your explanation.

"Fucking gods, soldier! You almost lost me there. Thought my heart would fucking explode."

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

GENERAL TAGLIST: @lovelyy-moonlight

BALDUR’S GATE 3 TAGLIST: @citrusbunnies

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

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wileys-russo · 4 months

Text

baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader

part of the a date to remember universe series

baby’s first christmas II m.earps x reader

"this is nice, isn't it?" you chuckled at your wifes words, the two of you cuddled up on the sofa watching a movie, well you were.

"is it? because you haven't stopped bouncing your knee, checking your phone and looking out the front window since delilah was picked up." you smiled knowingly, mary burying her face in her hands.

"i'm trying!" mary whined with a pout, sinking down further into the lounge. "she's with your mum mary she's going to be absolutely fine. you need to get over this anxious attachment love its going to rub off on her." you moved to straddle the keepers lap with an empathetic smile.

"i know i know. i just worry baby, she's so little." mary sighed, hands resting on your thighs. "she is and i know you are fiercely protective my love but you need to trust she's okay when shes with someone other than you or i." you ran your hands through her hair which was down for once, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“you know one day she’s going to need to go to school, get a job, move out-“ your words were cut off as your wife practically tackled you down onto the sofa, covering her ears and yelling loudly to drown you out. “mary! you’re such a child.” you squirmed beneath her with a shake of your head. “she’s never ever allowed to grow up that is a disgusting illegal incorrect thought shes going to be our sweet little angel forever and ever!” the keeper warned sternly, pointing down at you with a menacing look.

“when?” your wife looked confused at the question. “what what?” she countered with a frown. “when did you learn to control time? you know normally that’s father times job, you might need to grow a beard or something to fit in. don’t know if I’d be into that babe.” you reached up to stroke her chin as she rolled her eyes and pushed your hands away.

“whose being a child now?”

"okay but in all seriousness it's her first christmas my love, this is supposed to be exciting!" you shook her lightly as she finally perked up. "okay okay mary slow down!" you laughed as your wife rattled off a million and one things she wanted to do with your daughter during the holiday season.

"oo when she gets back lets take her for a walk to look at some lights, and have hot chocolate, and watch a movie!" the keeper lit up as you nodded your agreement, tugging the taller girl down into a kiss.

"i'd also like to finish this movie if you'd sit still and stop stressing for another...hour and ten minutes." you chuckled checking your phone, marys mum due to drop delilah back off at five.

“you’ll go grey at your age if you’re not careful about your stress levels baby.” you teased, squealing as her fingers dug into your sides. “watch it, cheeky.”

to marys credit she sat mostly still, though as soon as the clock ticked five she was back into the routine of checking her phone and glancing out the window every thirty seconds, the bouncing of her knee shaking your own body which was curled up into hers.

"mary! for god sakes she's probably stuck in traffic or enjoying her time with her granddaughter." you snatched the girls phone off of her and slid it into your hoodie pocket, smacking her knee to stop it bouncing.

"you're being ridiculous, if anything was wrong we would be the first people your mum would call. now if you want to keep busy and get your mind off of it, go and get the rest of the decorations you've been promising me you'll grab in 'just a minute babe'!" you mocked, raising an eyebrow as the girl went to argue your point.

"yes love, whatever you say love." mary sighed in defeat, kissing your cheek and getting to her feet. "remember; happy wife happy life earps." you smirked as she flipped you off over her shoulder with a sarcastic smile, disappearing upstairs.

she returned a few minutes later with boxes piled high in her arms, depositing them onto the carpet near the tree as you dropped to your knees and started sorting through them.

"that was exhausting." mary complained as she collapsed onto the lounge. "baby you went up the stairs, into the spare room, into the closet, grabbed the boxes, came downstairs. you didn't even train today!" you laughed at your wife, though her chance to respond disappeared as the doorbell sounded and she was on her feet in seconds flat.

"hi julie!" you greeted the woman warmly as mary flung the door open, snatching delilah up and out of her pram cooing at her, completely ignoring her mum as you elbowed her harshly. "yeah hi mum." mary mumbled dismissively, attention completely locked on the squirming baby in her arms.

"would you like to come in for a cup of tea? it's freezing!" you offered, the woman thanking you for the offer but declining, giving you a tight hug and rolling her eyes at mary who waved but otherwise continued to ignore her.

"mary! that was so rude.” you scolded your wife, smacking her shoulder making delilah giggle once you'd put away her things. "oh did you like that bubba?" you cooed, punching your wife again and grinning at the adorable giggles that followed.

"oi! stop teaching her to be violent." mary warned, kicking you away with her foot as she hoisted delilah onto her hip and returned to the living room. "she can learn that from you sweary earps." you teased, earning yourself a filthy look.

"look at those! aren't they pretty lilah." you bounced delilah up and down as mary tickled her chin, both of you melting at the giggles which followed. "god she laughs at everything now!" you sighed happily, mary pushing the pram around as you wandered the streets looking at lights.

"i'm surprised she can even see given all those bloody layers you've got her trapped in, like a little burrito!" mary smirked as you pushed her with your free hand, delilah again giggling in delight. "its the middle of winter mary of course she's bundled up. don’t pretend as if you would have dressed her any differently and you've got about five layers on yourself!" you pointed out, your wife holding her hands up in the air unable to argue as she sipped on her hot chocolate.

at her request you swapped, you now pushing the empty pram as mary wandered beside you chattering away to delilah, pointing out house after house and trying to get her to speak. "say santa, santa!" you laughed at her efforts, the poor girl barely able to speak much more than a few words among her baby gibberish.

"babe i think my toes might drop off and her cheeks are quite pink, lets head back yeah?"

"oh that is so cute." mary squealed as you balanced a santa hat on delilahs head, the baby crawling about on the ground in front of the tree as you and your wife snapped a hundred and one pictures.

the three of you had spent the rest of the evening after dinner dancing around the house to christmas music as you finished putting up the rest of the directions, mary offering up for the two of you to host your families for christmas dinner this year which was sure to be an interesting experience.

"oh! baby i forgot have a surprise." you raised an eyebrow as your wife jumped happily to her feet with so much eagerness that she tripped on the edge of the carpet, racing off as you rolled your eyes. "mama is so silly sometimes! yes she is, yes she is." you cooed to your daughter who was sat up on the carpet in front of you with an adorably lopsided smile.

you snapped another photo of the santa hat perched on her head with her little candy cane pyjamas and sent it to both ella and alessia, getting an influx of texts back demanding more pictures as you rolled your eyes and tossed your phone up on the sofa.

between marys national and club team mates and your own friends and families there was already a small village of presents for delilah stacked under the tree, then add in yours and marys inability not to spoil her rotten and you'd needed to move half of them into the other room to save space.

"close your eyes please beautiful!" you heard your wife call out from another room as you did so, hearing her footsteps return to the room and the floorboards squeak a little as she sat back down on the carpet.

"hands out." she ordered, snatching up your daughter and sitting her in her lap as you hesitantly opened your palms. "baby its nothing bad! do you not trust me?" mary huffed at your obvious hesitance making a smile curl onto your lips.

"okay, open." you felt something round and smooth dropped into your hand as you opened your eyes again. "oh my god mary." you breathed out, the small golden bauble reading 'babys first christmas' in beautiful calligraphy.

"its perfect. i love it!" you sent her a soft smile, leaning over to reward her with a tender kiss, a pair of tiny hands wrenching their way between your mouths as you broke apart with a laugh, both of you attacking delilahs little face with kisses instead.

"i thought we could get her a new one every year and then when she's older she'll have all these little baubles and ornaments to pass down to her own kids." mary admitted as you could have melted into a puddle then and there.

“i love that idea. once she’s a bit older she can even make some of her own!” you tickled under the girls chin making her giggle adorably as both you and your wife swooned at the sound.

"not that you're allowed a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything until you're at least thirty missy!" the goalkeeper warned the small girl seriously making you laugh. "lets get her to hang it before she goes down." you suggested, the two of you standing with mary holding delilah.

grabbing her tiny hand you held the bauble between your finger tips, guiding her hand to hang it on the tree. "perfect! just like you." mary blew a gentle raspberry on delilahs cheek who let out a tired giggle and a yawn.

"you're it! i put her down for her nap at lunch time." you patted your wife on the back and kissed delilah goodnight, collapsing back into the sofa as mary disappeared to put your daughter to bed.

you busied yourself making the two of you another hot chocolate before flicking through christmas movies as you awaited your wife to return. she did so a half hour later, having changed her hoodie as you grinned knowing exactly what that meant.

"load of washing tomorrow then?" you teased, the older girl mocking you under her breath and flopping down on top of you, her body laid out between your legs as her head rested on your chest.

"oh you know me so well." mary sighed happily as you selected the holiday which was forever her favourite christmas movie. “no quoting it word for word or you can sleep on the sofa.” you teased, carding your hands through her hair with a smile, mary grabbing a blanket off the back of the sofa and draping it over the two of you.

"our first christmas as mothers." the keeper beamed, moving so her chin was resting on your sternum and she smiled softly up at you. "the first of many baby, i love you mrs earps." you smiled softly.

"i love you more mrs earps."

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso #engwnt #mary earps x reader #mary earps

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loveshotzz · 2 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do Perv!Eddie getting caught masterbating with his best friends stolen panties only to find out she’s as perverted as him? Please and thank you!

also- if you could add the fact that reader has stolen things from him too? thank you!

Love your work!! ❤️

OOOO THIS IS SPICY. Let me see what I can do for you bb 💞 I hope you like it!

Warnings: Masturbation both m and f. Perv!Eddie and Perv!Reader. MINORS DO NOT ENTER.

You watched Eddie frantically throw clothes around his room, shirts, pants, underwear.

“Where the fuck is it?” He mutters under his breath, dumping out his laundry basket all over the floor. His room looks like a bomb went off.

“What are you looking for?”

Eddie’s hunched over the pile of clothes on the ground, the bottom of his hellfire shirt rising up. Blue and white checkered boxes peak out the top of his tightly fitted jeans. Biting your bottom lip the sight makes your thighs press together.

God, you gotta get it together, he’s your best friend.

“My favorite Iron Maiden shirt, I haven’t seen it for like a week. I wanted to wear it to the show tomorrow.” His voiced is muffled as he moves to his small closet ripping everything out of there next.

Your eyes go wide at the mention of his Iron Maiden shirt. You had pocketed that shirt in your back pack last week while Eddie had been in the shower. Both of you had spent all day outside at Lovers lake, the heat of the sun making you both sweaty messes. There was something about Eddie’s musk that had always made your mouth water, you couldn’t help but turn into a thief when the opportunity presented itself.

On nights after the days where his fingers brushed against you more then normal or he used pet names a little too freely, you’d wrap it around your pillow using it to get yourself off. Imagining it was his cock you were bouncing on, his scent swirling around you made your fantasies seem real in the moment.

Heat rising to your cheeks you had to think of something quick. You couldn’t just let him destroy his room for something he was never going to find.

“Why not your AC/DC one? With the flames? That one’s cooler.” You try lamely, nervous fingers playing with the hem of your shorts.

“No, I want this one.” You knew once he made up his mind there was no going back. “I just don’t know where it is, I wore it to the Lake last week…” Eddie stands there looking up at the ceiling trying to jog his memory of its whereabouts. Index finger following an imaginary timeline.

Suddenly his dirty carpet is the most interesting thing in the world to you. Sweaty palms and rosy cheeks, if Eddie were paying more attention he’d see the guilt written all over your face.

The sound of Uncle Wayne opening the front door is your saving grace, using the distraction to make a quick exit you ignore Eddie’s confusion at your sudden need to leave.

You were going home and washing that shirt, you’d sneak it back into his room when he wasn’t home. He’d never know.

——

Eddie always had band practice on Friday’s the one day out of the week he didn’t take you home from school. It was the perfect time to do it, all you had to do was wait until Wayne went to work.

It sounded like a fool proof plan until you showed up that late afternoon and Eddie’s van was still parked in front.

After an internal battle you decide you’re already here and the shirt was clean in your hand. You just needed an excuse to give him as to why you had it.

The walk up to his front door is spent running through a list of reasons why, finally landing on accidentally grabbing it with a shirt that you had left here. It wasn’t a far off excuse, practically living here part time.

Digging the spare key he had given you out of your pocket, you let yourself in. It was something you did all the time, Eddie always playing his music too loud to hear you knocking.

Shutting the door behind you, it takes you a minute to realize how quiet the trailer is. Eddie’s van was here, Wayne was gone, usually your eardrums are threatening to rupture.

“Fuck— you like that?” Eddie’s breathy voice breaks through the silence followed by a low moan.

Your heart sinks, Eddie didn’t tell you band practice was cancelled because he was with a girl. A girl that was living out your fantasies.

“You’re so fucking sexy, you like how your best friend fucks you?”

His words confuse you, is he secretly fucking Gareth? You don’t have any control over your feet as you make your way to his room,curiosity getting the best of you.

Peaking through the crack in his door, nothing could prepare you for the sight in front of you.

Eddie was laid out on his bed, shirt lifted up just above his belly button with his pants shoved half way down his thighs. His eyes were closed, brows knitted together with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead causing his bangs to stick. Your eyes roam the happy trail that haunted your dreams following the dark length of hair to an even thicker darker bush at the base of it.

His cock was everything you had ever imagined it to be, even in his big hand it looked massive. You could see the glint of precum leaking from the tip as he continued to fist himself, his motions getting faster chasing his orgasm. Eddie was close and you couldn’t find it in yourself to walk away.

Something pink caught your eye in his other hand as he brought it up to his nose inhaling deeply.

“You smell so good y/n you gonna let me cum inside of you?”

When Eddie says your name it feels like your world stops. Watching him take the pink fabric from his nose bringing it to the head of his leaking cock, you realize that pink fabric was your underwear.

The panties you had been searching days for. Finally chocking it up to them falling into the dryer abyss even though you never remembered washing them. Here they were in Eddie’s possession wrapped around his dick ready to collect his cum.

The idea of Eddie stealing your dirty panties to get off to makes the wet patch in your underwear become almost unbearable. Shuffling your feet trying to gain friction you can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

Eddie’s eyes snap open and meet yours when he hears you at his door way, but he’s too close to stop now. Eyes locked on yours, the idea of you watching him fuck himself in your panties sends him close to the edge. When his eyes leave your half lidded one’s and he see’s the Iron Maiden shirt clutched in your hand, it all comes together. Your strange behavior, the red in your cheeks, you were stealing his clothes too.

The realization mixed with the thought of you getting yourself off with his shirt has him spilling himself into the soft fabric of your panties. Eyes rolling in the back of his head, his whole body convulses with the intensity of the orgasm crashing through him. Your presence escalating everything, not even his own fantasies could come up with this. With his eyes still closed Eddie needs a minute to catch his breath, his fingers gripping tightly to your panties that were now dripping with his cum.

“I just came to return your shirt.”

Part Two

#request #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #kinktober

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totheblood · 1 year

Text

cool about it.

pairing: modern!ellie x reader

summary: ellie is your girlfriend, best friend, friend.... it's complicated... based on the song cool about it by boygenius

warnings: 18+: angst, cursing, drinking, ellie is lowkey a d*ck...

word count: 3.1k

a/n: i had plans to write this but you can thank jay (@elliewill) for begging me to write it because she loves angst... so this one is for her. also only two ai audios.. idk the angst ai audios made me sick i apologize

"i can walk you home and practice method acting."

There was an overwhelming silence in the room.

Your hand was wrapped in Ellie’s, her fingers brushing over the smooth skin covering your joints. You couldn’t see her in the dark room, but you knew she was smiling. You could smell the lavender and musk rolling off her in waves, almost rendering you useless as you leaned into her. She was intoxicating in every way a person could be. But as the lights came on and the credits began to roll, Ellie pulled her hand from yours, wiping at her jeans as she turned to the group.

“That movie was shit.” A laugh escaped her lips as she stood up, not looking at you. Sometimes when Ellie was feeling ashamed about snubbing you in public, she had a hard time making eye contact with you after. You liked to believe it was the guilt, but you weren’t so sure of that.

“I thought it was nice.” You smiled up at her, collecting your bag from the floor and throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie’s eyes flicked down to you, then rolled back into her head.

“You think every movie is nice,” she teased, picking up her jacket that was thrown over the back of her seat. “It’s why you give every move 5 stars on Letterboxd.”

“That’s true.” Dina chimed in as the group began making their way out of the theater. “But I liked it, so I’m gonna have to agree with her on this one. Sorry, Ellie.”

“I don’t know,” Cindy spoke up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights from outside. “How many Scream movies are they gonna make?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Ellie practically screamed as she held the door for you. You wanted to think that the gesture meant more, but sadly she was just being polite. You were trying your best not to overanalyze everything Ellie did in relation to you but found it hard when her hand reached for yours in every dark room. Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Ellie calling your name.

“What?” You looked at Ellie, a confused look plastered on your face.

“I asked if you wanted a ride to your apartment. Dina and Cindy are going back to the dorms.” She said matter of factly, slipping on her jacket.

“Oh, yeah. That would be great.” You turned to say bye to Dina and Cindy before following Ellie to her car. You knew her car too well. The pickup truck she’d drive you to 7-11 in nearly every night was on its last leg and needed a repair almost every month, but Ellie swore by it. She always made some comment about how loyal she was for not abandoning her car, but you always joked back that she couldn’t afford a new one. She’d roll her eyes and grab the Slurpee cup from your hands, taking a sip as payback.

It was tender moments like that one that kept you coming back, despite Ellie’s refusal to commit. It was an unspoken understanding between the both of you, but you knew that if you talked about it that Ellie would validate your fears. So you just didn’t talk about it.

You let her lean over the seat and kiss you when you got in the car, but not before looking out the window to make sure Dina and Cindy had pulled off. Her mouth tasted like cherry and vanilla, and her hands pressed at the side of your cheeks. You had to romanticize moments like this, the secret kisses and stolen glances. Otherwise, it would just be pathetic.

You were unsure if you were in love with Ellie, but you wanted to spend all of your free time in her back pocket. You wanted a necklace engraved with her name hanging around your neck as if she owned you. You wanted to bring her home to meet your parents, her hands shaking as they hugged her. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was you hanging onto the brief moments that her tongue was tucked into your cheek.

“If you’re gonna hold my hand throughout the movie, maybe you should just take me out on a date,” you laughed, watching her face fall. Mentally, you were cursing yourself, but your gentle smile remained.

“That’s not what this is.”

“I know, it’s just-”

“The movie was scary, I thought you’d want me to hold your hand through it.” Ellie cut you off, her tone sharp. She began buckling her seatbelt, wanting to escape the conversation as soon as possible. “If I knew you’d make a big deal about it I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Yea, no. You’re right, Ellie.” You gave in like you usually did when it came to Ellie. If something you said came too close to referring to you and Ellie as an ‘actual relationship’, she would shut down completely. You don’t know why her body tensed up, or why she avoided eye contact, but you didn’t want to push it. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I just-” Ellie sighed as she put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. One hand was planted on the steering wheel while the other rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want this to be too complicated. I like what we have. It’s easy.”

“Yea, I know.” Your voice sounded as small as you felt. As easy as this was for Ellie, it was torture for you. Not only could you not tell her how you truly felt, but you also felt like you couldn’t tell any of your friends about it. Another frustrated sigh fell from Ellie’s lips, you could tell she was trying.

“Look, Jesse is throwing a party tomorrow night.” She glanced over at you in the passenger seat, her expression unreadable. “How about you come with me?”

You knew she wasn’t asking you out on a date. You knew that and yet your heart still leaped in your chest at her request. You knew it wasn’t a date and you still agreed to go.

You felt pathetic trying on every outfit in your closet, trying to make sure whatever you wore would accentuate your best features. You settled on a simple tank top and jeans, throwing a flannel over it in case it got cold. Despite knowing how the night was most likely going to go, you still wanted to look your best for Ellie. It was the first time she’s ever asked you to go anywhere public and in the back of your mind you imagined this night changing the dynamic of your relationship completely.

Ellie picked you up early, her car making some weird sputtering noise as she pulled up. She looked you up and down when you climbed into the car, her stare making your cheeks heat up.

“You look nice,” Ellie mentioned, hand on the steering wheel. She waited until you were buckled in to press a kiss to your lips, smiling before she pulled off. The conversation in the car was nothing substantial, just small talk about classes and friends, and how much work the both of you had to do.

Outside of the frat house people were scattered on the lawn. A couple sat on the front porch making out while the music inside made the wood shake. There were a lot more people here than you anticipated, and you could tell Ellie was getting nervous. Usually, when she was nervous she’d reach for your hand, but tonight she trailed behind you.

Jesse, Dina, Cindy, and some of Jesse’s frat friends were huddled in the kitchen when you arrived. Jesse greeted you with a drunken smile and the slurring of your name, pulling you in for a hug.

“Nice to see you brought your girlfriend, El.” He joked, bringing Ellie into a half hug and attempting to give her a fist bump. Ellie’s mouth hung open as her eyes darted around the group, avoiding eye contact with you. Then she let out a laugh, a loud full-chested laugh as she held her stomach.

“She- she’s not my girlfriend.” She managed between laughs. The way she said it as if it was a joke that she could ever date you made your heart drop. She still hadn’t even glanced at you. If she had she would’ve seen the way your smile faded and eyes dropped to the floor.

“I know that,” Jesse laughed, lifting his red cup to his lips and taking another swig of his drink, “It’s just you guys always hang out… it’s a joke.”

“Damn right, it’s a joke.” Ellie chuckled with the rest of the group. You were struggling to find the humor in this so you just gave the group a tight-lipped smile and excused yourself. You pushed past the sweaty bodies to make your way into the living room where some guy was dipping red cups into a giant container filled with red liquid. He didn’t even look at you as he handed you a cup but you still thanked him.

You took the drink with you outside, sitting on the steps of the porch and drinking the vile liquid. You coughed on your first sip but as you downed it and the buzz filled your body it became more tolerable. About 30 minutes had passed with you sitting in there, occasionally saying hi to people you knew from class that were going in and out of the house.

You didn’t even notice when Ellie came out and stood in front of you. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Where have you been all night?” Ellie’s voice came out meaner than expected, but she was starting to believe you had left her. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Couldn’t have looked that hard,” a bitter laugh fell from your lips, your eyes glued to your phone, not wanting to look up at her. “I was sat here all night.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Ellie’s hand shook your knee gently, urging that she wanted you to look up at her. When you did, you stared her down, a tightness behind your eyes.

“It’s nothi-”

“It’s someth-”

“It’s you!” Your voice came out in a whisper-yell, causing Ellie to look around at the other people outside. No one was paying attention to you. “Earlier when you laughed when Jesse called me your girlfriend. That’s my problem, Ellie.”

“Oh my god,” Ellie groaned, her hands rubbing at her face. “You’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You stood in front of her, the steps making you taller than her.

“Cause that’s fucking ridiculous, I’m sorry.” Ellie turned around and began walking down the road towards her car, you hot on her trail.

“That’s ridiculous?” She stopped halfway down the block, turning to you. You were almost sure she led you out here to make sure no one would see you fighting.

“Yes, it’s fucking ridiculous because you always do this!” Ellie’s voice sounded tired as if she was at her breaking point with you. “You always make something out of nothing. I hate to break it to you but you are not my girlfriend and you never have been.”

“But I’m something.” You fought back tears, the sentence coming out more like a question.

“You’re-” Ellie sighed, looking away from you. “You’re my friend, okay? That’s what it is and if you can’t handle being my friend then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.”

This was as close to a breakup as you would get with Ellie.

“Friend.” The word sounded bitter on your tongue. “Friends don’t kiss each other, Ellie.” Your voice was small again.

“They do.” She stated matter-of-factly, “They do because we do. You have never been more to me than a friend.”

You couldn’t stop the tears in your eyes, you knew this was how she felt but never expected it to come out of her mouth. The 8 months you wasted now hitting you like a ton of bricks. Nodding you let out an ‘okay’ and began making your way down the street.

“Where are you going?” Ellie called after you, following you as you picked up your pace.

“I’m going home, I’m calling an Uber.” You didn’t turn to look at her but could feel her behind you.

“Don’t..” She sighed again. “Don’t do that, I can take you.”

“No, I’d rather not see you again.” Ellie’s footsteps behind you stilled causing you to turn around. The hurt on her face was evident, though no tears fell. She was just staring through you.

“Fine,” was all she said before turning around and heading back to the party.

You didn’t talk to or hear from Ellie for a month after the party. She didn’t call to make sure you made it home safe or text you to tell you she was sorry. There was nothing on her end or your end so you stopped talking. Dina and Cindy barely noticed the shift between the two of you with finals coming up so they never asked.

You were left to mourn what felt like a relationship, but never really was. There was a person who knew everything about you, how you scraped your knee when you were nine, and how much you hate blueberries, who no longer spoke to you. You wondered what she did with that information. If everytime she had a blueberry muffin she thought of you.

Not to your knowledge, Ellie did think about you. She thought about the way your hair smelt and how you used to sing along to throwback songs in the car with her. She thought about how she used to tell you the things she used to be scared to say out loud, and how you would rub at her shoulder to soothe her. She thought about the scrape and the blueberries and the way your eyes glossed over when you cried. She tried not to think about that night at that party and what your eyes looked like.

As summer came around and everyone packed their bags to go back home, you found yourself enjoying the heat from the sun as it prickled at your skin. Summer’s in Jackson were filled with fireworks, sidewalk chalk, and popsicles. Groups of teenagers hung out in the parking lot of the local convenience shop, drinking redbulls and laughing loudly with their friends.

Jackson was small so the fear of running into Ellie only grew as the summer went on. You did your best to avoid the places you knew she went, until you couldn’t. You found yourself inside the brightly lit convenience store right by Ellie’s house, looking through the candy section for gummy bears. It was late and this was the only store open close enough for you to ride your bike to so you took that risk.

As if fate was out to get you, Ellie walked into the store phone in hand and freckles more prominent than they usually were. Her face had a little bit of a red tint to it and her hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked relaxed, but more than that she looked fine. You don’t know why it bothered you, but it did.

Upon seeing you her entire demeanor changed. Her entire body became rigid, mirroring yours as she contemplated on what to do. She looked to the packages overflowing in your hand and laughed. She wanted to make a joke, but didn’t know how you would take it so she remained silent.

“Hey,” she pursed her lips as she approached you. You looked like you had seen a ghost and Ellie wanted to laugh, to kiss at your nose until you smiled but she doubted that would happen.

“Hey,” you responded flatly, not wanting to give her any satisfaction.

“Long time, no see,” she breathed out a short laugh, looking around. Ellie forgot what she came in here for.

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes and pushed past her, placing your things on the counter. The guy behind the counter began ringing them up, eyes looking in between you and Ellie as she followed you to the register.

“Do you think we can talk?” Her voice was hushed, smooth even, and god you missed it. You glanced at her, worry was written all over her face. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. When you got outside you placed your bag in the basket of your bike and turned towards her.

“I’ll walk you home, but after that I’m leaving, okay?” This was the rudest you have ever been to Ellie and you felt awful. You were just protecting yourself but you didn’t want her to see this as a way to wiggle back into your life.

“Cool, cool.” Ellie responded as she watched you walk with your bike, your hand firmly on the handles. She glanced over at you, heart warming at the sight of your face. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, finals went well.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you regret it?” You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at her, to see her reaction when she answered.

“No,” was all she said, making you roll your eyes.

“Why?”

“Cause I wasn’t ready,” she sighed and continued walking, hoping you would follow her. “I would’ve destroyed you.”

“You did.”

“No, I didn’t,” her green eyes looked dark in the illumination of the street lights. “Look at you, you’re here and you’re still you.”

“I’m not still me,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m scared-”

“-I was scared,” her voice over lapped yours, the bite in her tone back. “I was your first… whatever that was… but you weren’t mine.”

“Way to rub it in.”

“No, I mean,” she took a deep breath, “I did the relationship shit before and it didn’t end well. It made me into this. I think if you and me became real… it would’ve not only killed you but also me.”

“I think you should’ve let it happen. Give me that choice.”

“I did what was best for me,” Ellie’s voice was strong, she was sure of herself, “and for you, but you don’t have to believe that.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s okay.”

“Do you miss me?” you whispered.

“All the time,” she smiled to herself, “but I’m doing fine.”

When you got a good look at her you noticed the bags under her eyes, the worry line on her forehead that was growing. She even looked smaller. Nothing about her made it seem like she was doing okay, but it didn’t make sense to press her on the matter. It hurt, but a part of you understood it, understood her. The idea of getting close to someone terrified you, and you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t understand where she was coming from, but it didn’t help that her deep-seated fear was now being passed down to you.

“That’s good,” you gave her a fake smile, “I’m happy to hear it.”

“This is me,” she gestured towards her house before turning back to you and giving you one last smile, “You’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

ai audios:

#mine #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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ioniansunsets · 6 months

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I JUST FOUND YOUR BLOG AND OMG

hey imma need that confession Heartsteel Kayn moment yannoooo… fr all I’ve been thinking about 😳😳😳

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Confessing ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k

✖ Tags: Awkward Confessions

✖ A/N: Reader here is just someone who works at his studio! He met you as Heartsteel slowly begun to start out and get ready for debut. Also writing this with that one ask about him writing a song about this exact moment in mind. Heehee!

I was reading some fanfics on my side and got filled with so much adrenaline and emotions I spat this out. I got very very very carried away writing this. I hope its not too OOC. Thank you for asking for this, I couldn't stop thinking about writing it.

----

It sucked. It fucking sucked. The way his heart raced when you were near.

The loud thumping against his chest. He hated it.

He hated how vulnerably and un-badass it made him feel. How the high he got from you rivaled that of the stage.

How your voice played over and over in his mind more than any melody he knew. How your laughter made his knees weak. It made Him. Weak!

He hated. He loathed. He grunts in frustration as he rocks out hard on his guitar. Fingers picking at the strings, a sick solo riff but it was for no one but himself.

Oh, how he did arguably stupider things than usual when he saw you watching. Showing off to you he jumped off a stage once. Which is not too far off from usual but it was to no audience! It was during a practice run! He did it just to flex to you that he was cool! Fucking embarrassing to remember but he did! All because you were standing nearby! How could you do such a thing to him!

The absolute frustration he was filled with. Not pent up rage, not a craving for violence and destruction, but affection? Undeniable. Overflowing. Drowning and choking him. Affection!

He finally threw his guitar on the ground. Breathing heavy. Hands running through his hair to push away the hair that has fell to his face in his little jam session. Hands wiping away the sweat. No matter how long he played, how fast his fingers pressed the strings, how frantically he strummed away. How he still played, chipping his painted nails when he slips up and drops his pick. The loud music of his electric guitar couldn't drown out the high BPM beat of his heart going off in his ears. The mental image of you smiling and waving at him every time he shows up. The tingle in his fingertips imagining himself holding you.

Swallowing hard, he storms out of the studio. He was at his fucking limit and refused to deal with this flip flop of emotions any longer. A cold shower. He calms down. Tomorrow. At the studio when he goes in to record. He'll find you then. He'll go early before the rest of the band gets there. He'll get this done and over with. Enough hours were spent being a mess about you. He was going to get this done! Tossing and turning in bed for hours he finally falls asleep. Tomorrow, he'll confess.

xxxx

The next day came soon enough. Making sure he looked good, makeup on, hair styled nicely, a sexy ass outfit with his deliciously sculpted abs out. Not the usual for when he goes to the studio but if he was going to be confessing? Perfect. Yes he was perfect in his own eyes but still, his heart raced. Small whispers of Rhaast in his mind, telling him they might reject him, that he was someone that needed nobody, he shouldn't go up to them and say anything, the frustration was so good for his music! But still, he walked on. Boots hitting the floor at the same pace of his rapidly beating heart as he walks up to you. You heard him before you saw him, the thump of his boots echoing closer and closer.

" Hey!"

He cringes internally, the hell was that greeting. Hey? Just hey?! He smiles. Cocky as usual. Face never betraying his emotions, yeah he was cool like that. The shaking of his hands held back as he puts them in his pockets. Its alright, he looked cool. Just like that, hands in his pockets fiddling with his phone as he leans against the wall to talk to you.

" Can I talk to you a bit before I go and record stuff?"

Oh gods you smiled and nodded. His heart fluttered. His expression, involuntary, visibly lighting up. The way your smile just made him smile so bright back. He takes a deep breath.

" I uh...I love you."

He spat it out. It wasn't cool. It wasn't sexy. It was a choked out confession. Heart racing, palms now sweaty in his pockets, still shaking. Hells, shaking More now. His breath heavy as he tries to keep the anxiety at bay. A feeling of stage fright he never felt before. Suddenly hitting him. You look at him, face slowly getting more flushed as you process the sudden confession.

" I hate it but I've fallen head over heels for you. I'm a fucking wreck. You ruin me."

Kayn runs his hands through his hair, a habit to calm himself down. His eyes closed as he takes a deep breath before continuing.

" You genuinely make my time here at the studio fun, your presence is chaotic and calming at the same time. I want to be with you. I want us to be a thing. You already know me, you've seen the me on stage during practice, off stage when I record lines, you've seen Rhaast go all out and you still choose to be around me. I want you more than anything I've ever wanted."

He looks at you now, a calm stare. Lips pursed in a tight line. Swallowing hard. His nerves somehow finding solace in letting out all his feelings that were pent up over the month or two since you got to know each other. You laugh, gods your laugh. He's giddy. You tell him you love him too. He smiles.

A pause as he suddenly stands up straight. You tell him you love him too?

" Wait haha what? Really?"

He was amazing of course you'd say yes but still, there was that tiny part of him that was worried. You liked him back? You Love him? The amazing you! The you that shone like a sun in his frustrating days of endless work as a rockstar. You! He was fucking Elated. Arms immediately around you, a tight hug as he lets out a sigh. Breath he didn't even realize he was holding until now. His arms still shaking a little as he held you.

" Can I kiss you. Right now? I-"

Kayn doesn't even finish his sentence, the moment you nod his lips are on yours, passionate. Hands threading through your hair as he holds your head gently. Holding you against him. His free hand around your waist, supporting you as much as he was supporting himself from falling apart at your touch. How he loved you, the smell of your hair so close to him now, the taste of your lips on his, the feeling of your soft delectable lips on his. How warm you were in his hands, how faint your breath on his face. He was in love. He was in Love.

As he pulls apart. He takes another deep breath. The way you left him literally breathless. Fuck. This was an excitement he never felt before. Never has a kiss left him feeling so...good? Never has a hug left him literally shaking with excitement. You were special and now you were his.

" You're so fucking perfect you know that?"

He laughs shakily. A hand rising, trembling as he lightly touches his lips. Still in disbelief. He loves you. Undeniably. Overwhelmingly. The storm of emotions he held for the past, who knows how long, now a summer breeze filling his chest with a warmth he doesn't remember ever feeling. He loves you.

#Also from personal experience as I too jumped off a stage once to an empty audience for a flex.#I sprained my ankle after but it was cool. Kayn would do that I can see it happening.#Anon Answer #My heart was racing as i wrote this #i was shaking too #so i made kayn shake too #heehee #SO MANY EMOTIOSN #I LOVE LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Kayn x Reader #Heartsteel!Kayn #Shieda Kayn #I really outdid myself writing this #this is my new favorite answer #Kayn LoL #Kayn League #KaynLeague #Kayn League of Legends #SCENARIOS #Shieda Kayn x Reader #im ruined i love this so much and i fucking wrote it lmao #League of Legends Scenarios #league of legends imagines #oh i love him i love him #to hold him close and tell him he is worthy of love that is hard and fast that leaves him breathless and wanting #to give kayn a love like no other that is you reader. thank you for loving him.#Yuno's Favourite Answer #oops proofred to make it gn

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hanniluvi · 3 months

Text

𐙚 CARE FOR A DANCE? — PARK SUNGHOON 𝄞

SYNOPSIS ) “unexpectedly” running into you mid-training, he asks you for a dance. thinking it’s just for his practice, Sunghoon has other plans that night.

♪ DANCE PARTNERS ⋆ prince!sunghoon x knight-gn!reader

HIS INVITATION ✉️ ! royal au, forbidden love, angst (if you like squint), fluff

THE GUIDELINES — none ? THE WAITLIST 1.4K ( 1408 ) !

.ᐟ NOTICE 📄 hanniluvi cb!!! yk i just HAD to write for hoon again, its a tradition to have written works for him 🙏 i always end up writing fics for him its a problem … AND ALSO, writing royal aus is sooo new to me 😭 i be reading them but idk abt writing so…like the knowledge leaves my head…but its a work in progress Trust! anyways, i hope you enjoy it <3

Using your sleeve, you wiped the sweat off your face before continuing. The clinking of your sword against the wooden targets echoed throughout the training grounds. It was late at night, and yet, you couldn’t spare for a moment of rest—you worked too hard to earn that knight title. You huffed, already preparing for another round. And as you were about to slash once more, an unexpected sound reached your ears—the approaching footsteps.

In a reflexive spin, you draw your sword, poised to face an unknown intruder. To your surprise, the intruder reveals himself as none other than Prince Park Sunghoon. He raises his hands in a gesture of peace, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Why, you're still always on guard, aren't you?" the prince remarks, his eyes dancing with a mixture of curiosity and amusement.

Lowering your sword and slightly bowing, you nod. "I didn’t expect anyone to be here at this hour. And, to answer your question, a knight's duty doesn't rest, even in the quiet of the night, Your Highness."

He released a quick sigh of relief, relieved that you finally put the sword away from his neck. "I intended to take a scroll to the garden and couldn’t help but be captivated by your skill. It’s as if you were one with the sword."

Still catching your breath, you offered a modest smile. You teased, "Why, thank you, Prince Sunghoon. Training was essential for that to happen—I’m quite flattered by your compliment.”

Sunghoon retrieves something from his pocket, extending it to you. Your gaze fell to his hand—a pristine white handkerchief. "Wipe your sweat off your face with this, instead of your sleeves," he suggested. Glancing back at him, you noticed him clearing his throat and looking away. You chuckled, accepting the handkerchief from his hand.

"Is it common for Your Highness to carry handkerchiefs during night strolls, or did you specifically hope to find me practicing late at night?"

"You're overthinking it, Sir YN," he muttered, but your attention remained on the handkerchief, adorned with his initials in gold. As you wiped away sweat, his pleased smile didn't go unnoticed. "I'll return this to you tomorrow."

"No need, you may keep it."

"Your Highness, I can't accept something crafted for royalty," he soon interjected sharply.

"I insist. Can you defy a royal order?"

"Now that's one I can't go against," you chuckled, stuffing the handkerchief into your pocket. Glancing back at him, you caught a glimmer in his eyes—a familiar look he wore when he wished for something. "Now, what do you need, Your Highness? I'm sure you didn't just happen to run into me."

A pause hung in the air, your eyes meeting in a moment of unspoken connection. Breaking the silence, Prince Sunghoon impulsively asked, "Since you're at rest, would you care for a dance under the moonlit sky to celebrate your dedication, YN?"

"A dance? While I'm all sweaty like this?" You plopped yourself on the ground, shutting your eyes for a mere second. "Shouldn't you head back to your chamber, Prince?"

“Not until you take my hand,” he reached his hand out, leaving you no choice but to accept it. You did, hoping it would expedite his return to his chambers. "If you must. What does Your Highness want to dance to?"

"Just follow my lead," he suddenly pulled you in by placing his hand on your waist. You tensed slightly with the unexpected touch, trying to find a way to calm your increased heartbeat. He took your hands with his, twirling you gently. "Leave your attention on me, YN.”

His fingers supported your back as you both stepped in sync. Slowly, the tension in your shoulders disappeared, feeling rather at ease. Swaying together, he locked eyes with you, and in that shared gaze, a spark was created. His movements were graceful, and you effortlessly kept up with his every move. The dance became a silent conversation, as there were emotions expressed through subtle gestures.

He pulled you closer, guiding the dance into a dip, holding you steady as you leaned. With his hand against your back, he lifted you back up effortlessly. With the absence of music, your attention seemed to shift more on his features. Caught in a trance, you observed the subtle shifts in his expression, noticing the carefree and genuine look on his face.

The moonlight accentuated the moles on his face, and his fang-like teeth peeked through. As you moved in synchronized harmony, you also detected a subtle, entrancing aroma—Prince Sunghoon’s floral cologne. The scent wafted through the night air, and how it was super intoxicating.

A twinge of guilt crept into your thoughts. Was it wrong for you to be so attentive to him at a moment like this? This had to be merely practice for the ball hosted tomorrow evening.

With one last spin, his hands now rested on the sides of your waist, an intense gaze fixed on you.

The wind picked up, adding an extra layer of romance to the already enchanting moment. It pushed strands of hair away from your face, and a bright smile crept onto your lips. The corners of Sunghoon’s mouth started to rise, his hands still firmly on your waist. “May I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“YN, tomorrow night, will you be my dance partner again?”

Confusion flickered across your face. "But, my prince, it's just practice. A knight cannot dance with you for your royal ball."

He wore a small smile, vulnerability taking over his tone. “Why can’t I dance with you?”

You chuckled softly, “Your dance partner has to be the one you will marry for your future heir.”

“Well then, will you marry me?”

Your heart stopped. “What? Are you joking, Your Highness?”

“Please, just call me Sunghoon when it’s just the two of us. It feels weird to be the only one calling you by your name like this.” His hands left your waist, but now sneaking up to your hands. Grabbing your fingers, his grip tightened as he cleared his throat. “I know I’m the type to joke around, but this isn’t a situation I’d joke around in.”

“What are you saying—”

“How foolish you are. What I’m trying to say is that I love you. I adore you, and I wish to have you. Does that sound clear enough?”

Your heart was skipping beats. “No, how foolish you are! My prince—I mean, Sunghoon, you must find a suitable match within your rank. Your family wouldn't approve of a knight."

As you two stood in silence, his eyes pleading. “I don’t care about those rules. I care about you. Please, YN, be my partner, be my…everything.”

Your gaze softened, torn between duty and desire. "Sunghoon, you're a prince, and I'm just a family knight. This can't be."

“I want to pursue you.”

“This isn’t good for you. It won’t be good for you once you rule the kingdom—your status and your people would be placed in danger,” you suddenly blurted, clearly flustered by the sudden confessions. “It’s just such a huge risk.”

“You’re a risk worth taking. Can’t you tell that I’m already heads over heels for you?”

“But—”

“Can you stop pushing me away? Is it that hard for you to admit your feelings for me too?” Desperation filled his voice, his eyes wavering at you. “Or is the title of a royal knight that important to you?”

“I’m just worried. Your family wouldn’t approve of this.” You let one of your hands free from his grasp, running it through your hair. There was still that determined look on his face, as if he wanted to convince you to just follow both of your hearts.

“Then, let’s prove them wrong tomorrow night. Let’s prove that a prince and a knight are capable of ruling together. Capable of falling in love.” You were certainly worried about this. But, the look on his face was making it harder for you to even reject his ideas. “Please?”

“If I lose my place as a royal knight, it certainly will be over for you.”

“You just won’t stop worrying about those titles, don’t you?”

“Can you really blame me for acting like this when you say such bold words?” You joked, seeing a smile soon appear on his lips.

“That’s what love is, YN.” He chuckles. “It changes you, causing you to take such risks—all in the name of love.”

💬 : don’t fulfill my thoughts n say to write a whole fic abt prince!sunghoon x knight!reader bc i WILL continue this .

ENHA PERM TAGLIST (1) — @flwoie @ixomiyu @haruavrse @shinsou-rii @bearseulgs @ilovewonyo @yenqa @dimplewonie @bubblytaetae @wtfhyuck @ineedaherosavemeenow @ml8dy @starikizs @wonioml @chirokookie @xiaoderrrr @neozon3nha @en-chantedtomeetyou @millksea @enhaz1 @eundiarys @hyeosi @ja4hyvn @judeduartewannabe @j-wyoung @thia-aep @vampcharxter @softpia @officiallyjaehyuns @itsactuallylina @hsheart @sweetjaemss @ahnneyong @hanienie @jwnghyuns @kpoplover718 @jiawji @rikizm @haknom @yeokii @wvnkoi @whoschr @teddywonss @shinunoga-iie-wa @isoobie @skzenhalove @misokei @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @miercerise @litttlestars @enhapocketz

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projectionistwrites · 1 year

Text

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 days

Text

Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

Sweet Renegade Series Tag List

@katymae12344

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

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kentosbabes · 1 year

Text

Travelling with Nanami

He defo goes into proper dad mode when it comes to travelling making sure you have your passports, weighing luggage and practically zooming through the airport.

this is v self indulgent and screams daddy issues, but hope you enjoy <3

Nanami who's already packed 2 days in advance constantly weighing the cases and bags to make sure they will be allowed on the flight and he wont have to pay extra.

Nanami who mumbles complaints at the amount of baggage you need. 'But Kento I need my clothes and all of my skincare' you say when he comments on the bundle of bags placed in the doorway.

Nanami who gives in when you peck his face with kisses and promise you'll make it worth while showing him the lingerie you've also packed.

Nanami who wakes you up with a cup of coffee at 2 in the morning telling you how you need to get ready. Your just groaning 'just five more minutes please ken its so early' Nanami only grunting in response turning on the light waking you up from your slumber.

Nanami who's rushing around the apartment while you shower and get ready making sure he has everything. He's constantly checking his pockets for his wallet and passport.

Nanami who is now hushing you into the limo helping the driver place all of the luggage in the trunk. Even when he comes and sits beside you his anxiety is still high thoughts lingering in his mind. He can only take a minute to breathe when you cup his face in your hands and take deep breathes with him then laying against his shoulder as you make your way to the airport.

Nanami who places everything neatly in the tray provided when going through security and then helps you place all your jewellery back giving you a quick forehead kiss.

Nanami who drags you through the airport straight to the private lounge where you have a mini breakfast date while you wait for the flight.

Nanami who feeds you strawberries cuts up your food for you while the people around you watch in awe at the way he treats you. He just loves the way you smile and do a lil dance whenever you eat good food so he makes sure your well catered for.

Nanami who finally settles when your both seated on the plane in first class clinking your glasses of champagne, giggling as he kisses your knuckles 'Get some sleep love we have a long while till we get there'.

masterlist

#nanami headcanons #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami #nanami x you #jjk headcanons #jjk nanami #jjk #jjk x you #jujustu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kentosbabes #nanami kento drabble #i love him. so much #nanami kento fluff #fanfic

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bloatedandalone04 · 16 days

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger - Part 1.4

Series Masterlist | Original Fic

➪in which anakin feels completely isolated from you for the first time in five years, and he doesn’t know if he will ever be given the chance to fix his mistake.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 4k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Anakin gave his guitar to Theo as he sprinted off stage and towards the very dressing room he broke your heart in.

You never came back after walking away at the beginning of the show, and that had him completely on edge. He looked around the backstage area and when he couldn’t find you anywhere, he checked the dressing room. But you weren’t in there either.

Maybe you went back to the bus? God, he hoped so. He just got you back, he couldn’t handle losing you again so soon, and for a completely different reason this time.

His nerves were completely shot as he practically sprinted to the bus, the only thought on his mind being to get back to you and further explain things to you. If he needed to drop to his knees and beg for you, he was more than willing to do so, because you were it. His one and only, and you always would be.

The show tonight was one of the longer ones, so in the two hours he was on stage you could have literally gone anywhere. His heart was in his throat as he pulled open the bus door and looked around, and he could feel it quicken its pace as he realized that you weren’t here either.

Where the fuck did you go? You told him you’d be here after the show, yet he couldn’t find any trace of you.

Actually, he couldn’t find any sign of you at all. Your bag was gone, your jacket was picked up from off the couch, and your laptop wasn’t on the table anymore. “No,” he rasped. “Fuck. No.”

His hands were shaking as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called you, but he was sent straight to voicemail.

You were ignoring him.

“Fuck,” he nearly yelled as he called you again, only to be met with the same result. “Fuck!”

After the third call he was forced to leave you a message, and he felt as pathetic as he sounded. “Baby, please. Please….call me back. I’m so sorry,” he rambled as he pulled at his sweaty hair. “We need to talk about this more, we have to work this out, I….fuck, Y/n, you said you’d be here after the show.”

He was crying now and was choking on his words as he said them, and he hoped you would be able to understand him, but he also hoped you couldn’t. He hated the fact that he was the one crying after he fucked things up, possibly beyond repair, when he really had no right to.

“Please, just…tell me where you are and that you’re okay and safe, please,” he begged and dropped onto the couch. “I love you.”

His phone fell to the floor after that and his hands came up to cover his face.

He had no idea what to do. He was shaking and his eyes were sore as he couldn’t seem to stop the tears from leaving them.

What the fuck is he going to do? How is he going to fix this?

He can’t lose you. He can’t, he wouldn’t be able to function without you. The thought of not having you around him after this was enough to send him into a panic attack, and he knew he needed to get a hold of himself, but he didn’t know how.

You weren’t here, weren’t at the venue, and your stuff was gone. Where did you go? You wouldn’t have left without telling him, right? You wouldn’t have gone back to London and not tell him, right?

He didn’t know anymore.

His phone went off from its place on the floor, and he scrambled off the couch to grab it, and when he saw that it was you who texted him, he nearly cried of joy. But your message wasn’t what he wanted to read, and it left him feeling even worse.

Princess: I’m safe. I just need some time to think. Please, at least give me that.

You slept on a chair in the airport last night, your duffle bag being your pillow and your jacket being your blanket.

Your eyes were bloodshot and sore beyond words from all the crying you’ve done since Anakin told you that he cheated on you. Did that count as him cheating on you? Not exactly, but his lips touched someone else’s, so what did that make it? Accidentally cheating? You didn’t know and you were too upset to care about what to call it.

After he went on stage and began the show, you couldn’t stand it anymore and left. You went back to the bus and was originally going to stay there and sleep on the couch, but the more you got into your head, the more you wanted to get the fuck out of there completely.

Running away from your problems never helped anybody, but you were too stubborn to think rationally at this point.

So you bought a ticket for the earliest flight back to London and grabbed your things before fleeing from the bus and sending him a text after listening to his voicemail.

You felt bad about leaving like that, but you were so upset and hurt. Your heart felt like it had been physically ripped from your body and been left back with Anakin in Paris; the place you wanted to visit for so long now with the love of your life. And the two days you were there with him were amazing, and you were prepared for so much more, but every hope and dream you had for that city had been crushed and destroyed. You weren’t sure you ever wanted to go back, Eiffel Tower be damned.

There were other towers you could see, right?

The whole flight back to London you wrote down the last few chapters for your short story in your notebook, needing the distraction to help keep you sane enough to be able to get back to your room in one piece.

You looked like a mess once you got back onto campus, and you avoided everyone like the plague as you made a beeline towards your dorm and had a forty five minute shower. It helped a little bit, but you were still left feeling empty as you sat down on your bed with wet hair and opened up your laptop to type out what you wrote down on the plane.

After you added some final touches, you printed it out and got changed into a pair of jeans and a grey shirt, leaving your hair still damp as you made your way to Kenneth’s classroom.

It was empty when you entered it, and he looked up at you in surprise when you closed the door behind you and walked over to him. “Miss Y/l/n,” he greeted and closed the book he was reading. “I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. I thought you’d still be with that boyfriend of yours.”

The mention of Anakin had a sharp pain shoot straight through your heart, and you flinched slightly as you cleared your throat. “Yeah, something happened with that,” you whisper and he gives you a look of concern as he notices the way your eyes glaze over with tears. “I’m okay. Promise.”

He gives you a smile that nearly had you sobbing right then and there, because how the fuck did things get to this? How did you end up back in London, crying in front of your instructor with wet hair that dampened your shirt as the seconds went on?

“Alright,” he said quietly and braced his elbows on his desk. “What’s going on?”

His voice was so comforting and caring, you allowed your walls to come down a bit as you held up the stack of papers in your hand and wiped your eyes with your other. “I wrote my short story,” you announce. “I didn’t get around to editing it, so it’s probably full of errors, but I just wanted to give it to you because..”

You stopped your sentence short, but Kenneth gave you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were saying. “Because you’re not coming back to class,” he finished for you. “Are you?”

He stated it instead of asking it, and you bite down on your bottom lip as you nodded. Glancing down at the papers in your hands, he gestures for you to give them to him, and you do so with a sad smile. “You don’t have to read it,” your voice broke as you felt yourself beginning to cry again. “I just wanted to show that I really did love every second of these classes. I know I can do so much more, but it’s just not a good time for me right now.”

Kenneth flipped through the pages and looked up at you. “I’ll read it,” he promised, his gaze the softest you had ever seen it, and you realized just how much you would miss being able to talk to him like this and not feel embarrassed about it. “You’re an amazing writer, Y/n. It was a privilege to have you in my class, and I hate to see you go so soon, but I also want you to start putting yourself first. You’re always worried about everyone else around you, don’t forget to take care of yourself, too. Whatever happened before this, don’t let it take over. Use it, if it helps.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes with both hands now, sniffling quietly as you look at the man you respect deeply.

“You’re going to go on and do great things. You’re young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you,” he lightened the mood by laughing and it made you laugh, too. “Just don’t forget to put yourself first. I remember when my teacher told me that, and it stuck with me for most of my life. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear it until he said it.”

And you didn’t either.

It was true, you put everyone above yourself and it often made you forget to take care of yourself. But not anymore.

You were going back home, and you were dropping out of the program, but you weren’t quitting. You just needed to figure some things out and keep yourself grounded until you decided what was going to happen next.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Kenneth nodded and set your story down onto his desk. “Good luck, Y/n,” he said and it was the second time he used your first name since you walked in here, and it somehow made everything seem so much more real. You weren’t his student anymore. “I’ll reach out to you once I’ve finished reading this.”

“Okay,” you nod and turn around, giving the classroom one last look before heading towards the administrative office to officially drop out of the school.

You cried more as you packed up your room, and then Bailey came in and let you cry onto her shoulder as she held you and told you to keep in touch. After that you met Evan’s eyes from across campus, and the three bags you were carrying told him all he needed to know.

He brought you into his arms, too, and these were the people you were going to miss most about this chapter in your life. “Call me whenever you need to, okay? Or whenever you want to,” he begged and you nod against his chest. “Fuck, this sucks. I’m going to miss you.”

You laugh sadly, “I’m going to miss you, too,” then you step away and get a ride back to the airport, your heart feeling the heaviest its felt in all the twenty two years you’ve been alive.

Anakin didn’t sleep at all, but that was no surprise.

He got a good two nights of sleep with you while you were here, but now that you were gone, his sleep schedule was already back to being fucked.

His whole body felt weak as he paced around backstage, holding his phone up to his ear as he called you for the first time today. He told himself that he’d give you some time, but fuck that. He missed you and needed to see where things were with you at the moment.

“Hi,” you answered, making Anakin instantly stop pacing.

“Hi,” he said back quickly. “How are you? Where are you?” He had no idea where you were since you only told him that you were safe, and he wasn’t one of those boyfriends that needed their girlfriends location on all the time.

“In the car,” you answered and he felt his heart drop. “On the way to the airport.”

“The…airport?” He stuttered, his eyes burning as he let your words sink in. “You’re going back to London?”

“No,” you say quietly, and he could hear in your voice the way you were holding back tears. “I’m already in London. I’m going back home, Anakin.”

Anakin felt his whole body tense up, and it felt almost painful to move. So he stayed still as he tried to process your words. “You’re in London? How? When?”

“Last night. I bought a ticket and left. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I just don’t know what to do anymore, Anakin,” you cried and the remaining pieces of his heart shattered to bits. “I dropped out of the writing program and now I’m on my way back home. I need to feel normal right now or I might just go crazy.”

“Baby,” he shakily said as he met Vinny’s eyes from across the room. His friend gave him a concerned look, but Anakin just turned around and headed for the dressing room. “Baby, please.”

“Please, what? I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t know what to say,” you sobbed and he let the door close loudly behind him once he reached the dressing room.

“Say that we’re going to be okay,” he begged, beginning to pace around the small room as he tugged at his hair. “Say that you and I will be fine, that we’ll talk this through and that we’re going to be okay.”

You were quiet for a few seconds, leaving him to listen to your uneven breathing. “You’re in Paris, Anakin,” he hated the way you hadn’t called him Ani even once since the start of this call. “I’ll be in LA tomorrow. Maybe this time away from each other will be good.”

“We’ve been away from each other,” he said as his heart twisted in agony. “I don’t want more time apart.”

“You’re on tour, Anakin-”

“I’ll come home,” he cut you off. “I’ll talk to Helena, we’ll stop the tour for a few weeks or something. Please.”

You sniff quietly. “The tour is too important,”

“You’re more important. We’re more important,” he thought maybe he was getting through to you, but then you destroyed that small ounce of hope with a single sentence.

“I can’t do this,” you whispered. “I need time. Have fun on the rest of the tour, Anakin. I really mean that.”

Then you hung up before he could say another word, leaving him to call you back three times before you turned your phone off.

“Fuck!” Anakin yells out and throws his phone onto the couch before sitting down next to it, his hands coming up to cover his face as he tries to hold back his tears.

This was all his fault. He fucked things up between you beyond repair, and he was the one to blame.

You flew back to London, for fucks sake, and the whole time he thought you were still here. And now you’re going back to LA, back to the apartment you and he shared, and possibly packing up there as well.

What was he supposed to do? He needed to be on stage in less than twenty minutes, and he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Anakin looked around the room wildly, as if anything he would help him even a little bit. His eyes landed on the various alcohol bottles placed on a table in the corner, and he knew he shouldn’t. The last time he drank was at the club with Liz, then she kissed him and he threw up twice and swore he’d never drink again.

But it was different this time.

He needed to feel nothing right now, to get him through the show, then he’d figure out how to fix things.

Without giving it a second thought, Anakin grabbed the first bottle he could reach and spent the next ten minutes drinking it. He set the now empty bottle down and left his phone on the couch, swinging the door open and stumbling his way backstage.

The first person he saw was Liz. Of course it was Liz.

Anakin’s eyes glazed over and he made it to her in less than four strides. She turned to face him with that fucking smirk of hers, and he narrowed his eyes on the bruise that had formed on the bridge of her nose, and for a split second he was proud that his girlfriend did that to her, then he remembered that you might not be his girlfriend anymore. “There you are,” she cooed. “We were starting to get worried.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, getting into her personal space. This was another situation where he could use his size to his advantage, even if he hated to do it, but he didn’t care right now. “This is all your fault. Y/n left because of what you did, because of what we did. Are you happy? Are you fucking proud of yourself?”

Vinny, who was standing nearby quickly made his way over, as did Helena, who had been talking with Theo a few feet away. “Anakin,” Vinny murmured, pulling on his arm. “Hey, don’t do this, man. She’s not worth it.”

Helena guided Liz away and towards the side of the stage, and Anakin could see how angry his manager was as she talked to the photographer.

Anakin turned to Vinny, his eyes burning and his head spinning. “She left,” he rasped. “She left, Vin. Y/n left to go back home.”

Vinny stepped back in surprise but kept his hand on Anakin’s arm. “Back home? Like, back to London?”

“No, back to LA. She already went back to London and dropped out of the program and now she’s going back home,” he nearly cried. “She’s going to leave me, Vinny. I lost her.”

The drummer looked alarmed, and he pulled Anakin into his arms within seconds. “It’s okay,” he tried to comfort him, but they both knew it would never work. “It’s okay.”

Anakin felt pathetic. This is the second time Vinny had to comfort him in less than two weeks, and while he knew Vinny would never mind doing so, Anakin still felt terrible. It shouldn’t be this way. He should be better than this.

“We’ll talk after the show,” Vinny promised, pulling away and reaching up to smooth out Anakin’s hair. “You and I will figure everything out, okay? It’s going to be okay.”

Anakin felt like a shell of himself as he nodded and allowed Vinny to lead him out onto stage, his mind a mess of thoughts and doubts and worries, and all of them were about you.

The lights were blinding and Anakin’s vision blurred from the flashes. His head was pounding and his throat was dry as he tried to get out the last song of the night as quickly as he could, but he felt sick. The bourbon he had downed earlier didn’t help, either.

He felt bile rise up his throat but he held it back and tore his eyes away from the crowd so he could look over at Theo. The bass player gave him a concerned look as he began to sing the song as well, no doubt sensing something was wrong and deciding to help the poor guy out.

Anakin was thankful for that as he didn’t have to raise his voice anymore since Theo is singing alongside him now, so his throat was given somewhat of a break. While his friend didn’t have a strong enough voice to be the lead singer, Theo still had a pretty good singing voice, and Anakin knew he should probably start having him sing in more songs in the future.

He felt his heartbeat quicken as even more sweat began to settle on his skin. The flannel he had adorned at the start of the show had long since been tossed aside and had left him in just his graphic tee, but he was still so fucking hot, and the lights weren’t helping at all.

He made the mistake of looking over to his right, where he saw Liz and Helena standing backstage. While his manager had a frown on her lips, Liz had a lustful look in her eyes, and somehow that made Anakin feel even more sick.

His fingers fumbled on the strings as he messed up the tempo of the song, which is something he had never done while he was out on stage before. Embarrassment floods through him and he quickly falls back into the right rhythm with Vinny and Theo backing him up as best as they could.

All these cameras on him were not helping, even though he was used to being filmed at this point. He felt like was three seconds away from having a full on panic attack, and he would probably die of humiliation if he woke up tomorrow morning to see thousands of videos online of him breaking down on stage.

The headline ‘Anakin Skywalker Has Epic Meltdown During Last Song Of Show’ was one he refused to read the following day. Fuck, he hated those stupid tabloids. They were written by money hungry, self-obsessed assholes who wouldn’t know what privacy is if it slapped them in the face.

You hated them, too, and your distaste for them was more than valid.

He missed you. God, did he ever.

Anakin wasn’t used to missing you. He never needed to. Ever since his third year of high school he’s had you by his side. You were never more than a few feet away from him back then, and even now you were always usually backstage and quietly cheering him on. You should be where Liz is currently standing now.

Or maybe he should be with you.

Since the second you became his girlfriend you were always his top priority.

He hated that he had somehow managed to forget that fact the minute a pretty girl started paying more attention to him than you were. Could you be blamed? You were thousands of miles away and chasing your own dream while he was living out his. You couldn’t give him every second of your time like he was used to receiving, and he really fucking hated how he had actually managed to turn into one of those pricks who forgets about how good he has it as soon as things don’t end up going his way.

Anakin wanted to stop singing the song and call out to you, but you weren’t in the crowd. You weren’t backstage. You weren’t here. You weren’t with him. You wouldn’t answer him, because you’re so fucking far away while he is here acting like everything is just fine. All he wanted to do was to run off stage, find you, and wrap you up in his arms, but he wasn’t sure if he had that right anymore.

He’s insecure and has never been away from you for this long. It was like he didn’t know how to properly function without you by his side.

All the excuses in the world would never make up for just how poorly he’s treated you and for how little effort he’s been putting into your relationship.

He didn’t blame you for wanting to end it.

But he needed you. He had just gotten you back, just gotten that sense of normalcy back, but you were gone again.

Possibly for good this time, and he only had himself to blame.

One more part after this x

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