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#let me wrap you in a cozy safe blanket
strang3lov3 · 4 months
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Fighting Fair
Joel doesn’t know what or who started this fucking thing, but he’s finishing it. Tonight.
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Tags: impish activities, soft dom!joel sorta aggressive joel, forced proximity, cock grinding, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie (always), teasing, dirty talk, almost somnophilia (they’re sleep-teasing each other unconsciously) sexually frustrated morons, good ol' fashioned "we have to get naked and share body heat to stay warm" trope
A/N: I had to drag myself kicking and screaming into writing this fic that put me through the fucking ringer!!! Thank you @theywhowriteandknowthings @merz-8 and @beefrobeefcal for the general fic help and encouragement! And I think also @noxturnalpascal and @tightjeansjavi and ESPECIALLY @notjustjavierpena who talked me through this fic a couple weeks ago and gave me the push I needed to finish it when I was stuck. You guys all rock ❤️
It’s too cold tonight, even indoors and with a fire burning. He moved the large sectional couch as close as he could safely get it by the fireplace, gave you his jacket, and you’re still hoarding the blanket. Joel tries to gently tug on the blanket that you’ve wrapped around your body, see if maybe you can spare to lose a few inches of fabric. You don’t budge. Joel sighs, “Y’can share, ya know.”
“This is sharing.”
“It’s not, actually. I’m the one sharin’ here. I gave you my coat, you can quit hoggin’ all the blanket,” Joel tugs harder on the blanket, it’s old and kind of scratchy, worn out by the years. “C’mon. Let up.” 
“You can have this much,” You mumble, giving Joel a small amount of the fabric. 
“How generous of you,” Joel mutters sarcastically before pulling the blanket entirely off of your shoulders. “Thank you. S’very kind.”
“Hey,” you whine. 
“Yeah, I know,” he says. He covers his body in the blanket, making sure to cover your legs and feet as well. His hands brush over your own and he winces at their ice cold temperature. “Jesus, girl. Gimme these,” he mumbles, taking your hands into his own and holding them tightly. “Hands feel like icicles.”
“This fucking sucks, Joel,” you complain. 
“It does,” he agrees. Joel’s been dreading this point in the year. He’s eased up on his ‘no fires’ rule for the most part, but fire doesn’t help when it’s as cold as it has been. Tonight, he’s grateful you spotted this old house from afar, even more grateful it has a fireplace. But it’s especially cold tonight, maybe even nearing below zero temperatures. Even with a glowing fire and a shelter preventing the chill of the wind piercing you to the bone, he’s not sure that’s enough to keep you both warm. Joel shivers, “This shit’s not workin’.”
You shake your head no. It’s not. 
Joel’s not quite sure how to offer up his idea. It’ll be fine, or at least, it should be fine. What needs to happen is you and Joel need to get cozy and share body heat, the real way, with both of your bodies completely bare and pressed against each other.
Most of the time, you and Joel fall asleep separately. Occasionally, however, Joel will wake up in the early hours of the morning with your body inexplicably tangled in his, your head laying on his chest. The first time it happened, Joel was annoyed. “Get off of me,” he grumbled. “Not your fuckin’ teddy bear,” You whined in response, and when Joel tried to move you from him you clung to his body tighter. “Jesus,” he mumbled to himself. 
After about the fifth or sixth time of waking up with you clinging to his body, he stopped trying to fight it. In fact, he even started to hold you closer, stroke your hair. Sometimes he’d wake up holding you, other times he’d wake up with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It was nice, mostly. 
Mostly. You have the most uncanny ability to tease Joel in your sleep. Your hand will mysteriously travel from his side up to his chest, your thumb rubbing over his nipple. Other times, it’s your leg that brushes against his crotch. Or your ass, wiggling against his morning wood. After you wake, he’ll leave you alone for a few moments to quietly take care of himself, stroking his member to the thought of your naked body, your soft curves and smooth skin. Sometimes he’s not able to sneak away in the mornings and he’ll be hard as a rock and miserable the entire day. It’s unbearably frustrating. He’s never brought this tendency of yours up to you and he never will, because you’re not doing anything intentionally, at least he thinks. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of teasing, he thought he saw you smirk as he left to take care of himself. It was probably nothing. 
That’s what he’s worried about. Your body, naked against his, teasing him. His arousal won’t be so easy to hide without the protection of clothing, not to mention he may not even be able to fall asleep. It’s not gonna be an easy night, but it’s the only option at this point. 
Joel clears his throat, “We’re gonna try somethin’ different tonight,” he starts, “An’ we’re not gonna talk about it. Ever.”
“Okay,” you say, unsure of where he’s going with this. 
“You trust me?” he asks. You nod. “Good,” he says, “We’re gonna share our body heat. An’ it works better with skin to skin contact, which means we’re both gonna get naked and close under the blanket, but we’re not gonna talk about it. Not tonight, not ever. Can you do this?”
“I can,” you tell him. You’re not totally surprised by Joel’s idea, but you’re glad he was the one who brought it up. Truthfully, it’s been something you’ve been thinking of doing with him for quite some time now, since the weather’s been getting so cold. You’ve pictured it, rubbing your bare feet against his legs for some warmth. He’ll probably kick you away, complain that he’s cold too. You’ll tell him too bad. 
“Okay,” he mumbles awkwardly, “Okay, s’good. I’m gonna turn around and get to it then, f’ya wanna…” 
“Yeah, got it.”
You and Joel separate, he places the blanket at his end of the couch as he begins to unbutton his flannel. You remove his coat from your body then shimmy off your pants, leaving them crumpled on the floor. You catch a glimpse of Joel’s back, the firelight dancing on his toned and broad muscles, the scars and stretch marks decorating his skin like art. Quickly, you avert your eyes and begin to remove your shirt. You don’t notice Joel stealing a peek at your body, the blush creeping up his cheeks when he sees your bare breasts. 
“Ready?”
“Mhm,” you mumble, but you’re anxious. You’re not sure how it happens, but you’ve been waking up with Joel here and there. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night with his limbs inexplicably wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head. The first time it happened, you were confused. You tried to shrug him off of you, but Joel only held you tighter, sleepily mumbling in an annoyed tone. 
After about the fourth or fifth time of waking up with him holding your body, you stopped trying to fight it. In fact, you’d back yourself into him, even scratch his forearms to relax him. There’d be times you’d wake up being spooned by him, other times you’d wake up spooning him, with your arms wrapped around him and your tummy pressed against his back. It’s nice, mostly. 
Mostly. Joel has this inexplicable habit of teasing you in his sleep. His hand will mysteriously travel from your side up to your breasts, his thumb catching on your nipples and rubbing them softly. Other times, he presses his cock against your ass, nudging you and gently grinding against your ass. When you wake, you find somewhere quiet to touch yourself, rubbing your clit to the thought of his body, his warm eyes, the groaning noises he’ll make when he stretches in the morning. Sometimes in the mornings, you can’t sneak away and you’ll be soaked all day, miserable as your core pulses and aches for him. It’s god awful, unbearably frustrating. But you’ve never brought this tendency of his up to him and you never will, because he’s not doing anything intentionally, at least you think. Though, there was one time after a particularly excruciating night of him teasing your nipples, you felt him touch you a little more intensely, like there could have been conscious thought behind the action. It was probably nothing. 
This is what you’re worried about. His body, naked against yours, teasing you. It’s gonna be a difficult night, but you know it’s the only option.
Joel reaches for the blanket, spreads it out as he inches back towards you on the couch. “You can lay on your side like that, facin’ the fire,” he offers, and you follow his suggestion. Joel slots himself behind you and tucks the blanket around both of your bodies, then pulls you closer to his body. “Yeah, good girl. You got it. M’gonna hold you tight like this,” he tells you. 
Good girl. His words send desire flooding your veins. Sweet talking in your ear, his hands holding you close and tight. God, this is trouble. 
“Just need to scoot a little closer, like–” you back your ass into his crotch, “M’just so cold, Joel.”
Fuck. Joel can feel his growing arousal pressing against your ass. “I know you are, hon, just–don’t move like that on me,” He keeps you as close as he can against your body, pressing the length of his arm against your torso to keep you warm. His hand brushes against your breasts, thumb caressing your nipple. You gasp. 
“Need you closer, though,” you mumble, wiggling against his crotch once more. His length hardens fully, prodding against your ass. His breath hitches, “Ignore it,” he grumbles, now annoyed. How many hints does he have to drop? Or are you doing this shit on purpose?
You’re annoyed too, honestly. He’s not directly groping you, but his fingertips have not left your nipples, lightly grazing over them and setting your skin on fire. Do you need to spell it out for him, what he’s doing to you? Surely it’s intentional on his end. Has to be.  
There’s a moment where you’re quiet and so is Joel, both of you tired and confused and sexually frustrated with the other. Maybe you’re looking for a fight, but something’s gotta give. Fuck it, you’ll be the one to instigate. “Ignore what, Joel?” you ask, voice incredulous and laced with sarcasm. 
“I’m–my–fuck,” Joel stammers. He feels your body move with your stifled giggles. “Knock it off.”
“It’s all for me, isn’t it Joel?”
“Dammit, just–shut up,” Joel stiffens as he feels his face and neck begin to warm. “And mind your business. S’not for you. S’not for anyone,” he lies, cringing internally for his defensiveness, definitely overcompensating. He rolls his eyes, knowing he was right. Five minutes into sharing body heat with you and it is not going well at all. You twist your hips once more. “I said ignore it,” he grumbles, his hand finding your hip and holding it firmly in place. “Not rub your ass on it. Now sit still. You’re testin’ my patience.”
“I can’t help it, Joel. I’m just trying to get comfortable,” you lie. 
“Yeah, whatever. You’re gettin’ me in trouble is what you’re doing. Now for the love of god, quit it.”
Ten minutes go by without an incident, and Joel is focusing on trying to sleep with your naked body pressed against his. He’s certainly beginning to warm up but at what cost? He’s breathing in your scent, feeling your warm skin under his hand, which is hard enough to deal with. And then you fucking do it again, because his fingers are still lightly touching your sensitive nipples. “What did I just say?” Joel flips you on your other side so you’re facing him, then holds your jaw between his fingers. “Look at me,” he tells you. “Knock it off. Quit your squirmin’, quit wigglin’ your ass on my–” You can’t hide the grin that forms on your lips at his accusation. You purse your lips in an attempt to hide the amusement you’ve garnered from your payback, but Joel sees it. “Why’re you fuckin’ with me?”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You know exactly what you’re doin’. Why are you fuckin’ with me?” 
You shrug, “You started it.”
“I never fuckin’ know what you’re talkin’ about,” Joel complains through a deep sigh, exasperated.
“The teasing,” you explain, “You snuggle me and end up teasing me, playing with my tits and whatnot. You know what you do,” you accuse, “So I’m getting you back. Fair’s fair.”
“So you get worked up and you retaliate by givin’ me a hard on. Charming,” Joel grumbles, “And you’re one to talk about wanderin’ hands. Do you know how many times I’ve woken up with your hands in places they shouldn’t have been? Shouldn’t even be fuckin’ sleepin’ together.”
“You never complained about it before,” you retort, referring to the accidental snuggles that take place between Joel and yourself. 
Joel wears a confused expression for a moment, then glares at you. He narrows his eyes at you, completely misunderstanding what you meant. In his head, he’s thinking that you’ve just admitted all of that accidental teasing–it has been fucking intentional on your part. He knew it! “Before? You’re tellin’ me this is a hobby of yours?” he spits, “I knew you had ulterior motives with that late night cuddlin’ of yours. You’ve been gettin’ me hot an’ bothered on purpose, haven’t you?”
You sigh, “No, I’m talking about—” and then you realize, if Joel thinks you’ve been intentionally getting him worked up all this time, he’s been doing the same shit to you to retaliate. “Only because you did it to me first,” you accuse. 
Joel scoffs. “I don’t believe this,” he scoffs, “I don’t care who started it, I’m finishin’ it right now.”
Your heart pounds as desire pools in your gut, a warm, sticky feeling. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talkin about,” Joel whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. “I’m gettin’ you out of my system once and for all. You’re fuckin’ ridiculous. We’re done with this.”
Joel shifts his arm, reaching for his cock. You watch as he wraps his palm around his member, thumb swiping over his red and swollen tip. His soft belly bulges against his arm that’s pressed tightly against himself as he strokes his member slowly, patiently. When you reach for his cock to replace his hand with your own, you’re in disbelief as he swats your hand away. “Joel,” you whine, confused.
“Was never really teasin’ ya, by the way. Think you’re a little selective in that way. Seein’ and hearin’ what you want to.” Joel accuses in a gentle tone as he continues to massage himself, “And even if I was, you don’t fight fair.” 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, sweetheart, all that shit you do to me, I’m gonna do right back to you,” Joel reaches for your leg, grabs the back of your knee and hikes your leg over his hip, pulling you closer and exposing your pussy to him. “Not going to go easy on you sweetheart, you sure you want this?” he asks, giving you an out. But you nod anyway, your tummy fluttering with desire as your mind begins to race, wondering exactly how he’ll retaliate after being pent up like this for so long. “Good,” he says. 
Holding his cock in his hand, he guides the tip to your center, collecting the slick pooling at your entrance and taps the thick head against your clit. He pulls you closer and begins to drag himself through your folds. “Joel,” you gasp, “What are you doing?”
“Tryin’ out your modus operandi,” he breathes. “Isn’t this whatcha were just doin’? Rubbin’ up on me?”
“I wasn’t–mmmm,” you hum as he continues to rub the head of his cock against you, “Wasn’t like this.”
“You’re full of shit,” Joel groans as goes up and down, up and down, notching his tip ever so quickly inside of you to gather your increasing arousal and dragging it through your folds, paying special attention to your clit. You’re pulsing, clenching around nothing as he teases you agonizingly. “You’re makin’ a fuckin’ mess. S’all for me, isn’t it?” he taunts you, using your words from earlier. “God, you don’t take much at all. Soakin’ me, sweetheart.”
He notches his tip inside you to collect your wetness once more and you cry out, “Just fuck me.”
“You’re not gettin’ it,” he breathes, “Told ya, you’re gettin’ your comeuppance.”
You feel like you’re gonna burst. He rubs the head of his cock over your clit in circles, listening to your whines of displeasure when he pulls away from you to focus on his own pleasure. When presses himself against you again, he focuses his tip only at your clit, your slick helping him to slide up and down with ease. When he begins to roll his hips for added pressure, you bite into his shoulder to contain your cries. This is agonizing and so fucking delicious all at the same time. 
You adjust your hips, simultaneously reaching for Joel’s cock to guide him to your entrance. You need him now. “C’mon, now. You mind your manners,” he chides you, “S’not any way to get what ya want.”
“Please, just fuck–need you inside me.” 
“Sure thing,” he says in a honeyed tone. He replaces his cock with his fingers, leisurely dragging them through your slick folds before dipping first one, then two fingers inside you. He finds that delicious spot inside you, but curls his fingers lazily, not yet providing you with what you need. You’re throbbing, aching, hungry for more. 
“Joel, not–”
“Shoulda been more specific, then,” he interrupts. Bastard. When you try to argue, Joel flips you on your back and guides his cock to your entrance, notching his tip in you again, this time not leaving. You whine eagerly, wrapping your legs around him and pressing your feet into his ass, trying to pull him closer. You need him inside you, now.
“Not all at once,” Joel purrs as he enters you at a glacial pace. He pushes inside you gradually, letting you feel every inch of him, stopping momentarily to adjust the blanket over his shoulders to keep both of your bodies enveloped in warmth. Joel bottoms out inside of you and pulls back out, then enters you again, so fucking slowly. You’re not sure how he manages to tease you while fucking you, but he’s doing it. You just need more, need it faster, harder, more. You reach for your clit, but Joel pins both of your hands under one of his own as he fucks into you. Tears of frustration begin to build in your eyes. “You can cry all you want, sweetheart,” he coos, “You made your bed. We’re not done with this yet,” he continues, “But, maybe if ya sweet talk me, apologize for startin’ somethin’ you couldn’t finish…”
“M’sorry, Joel,” you apologize quickly. All your fire, your mischief, Joel’s now extinguished like a flame.
“I knew you’d be sorry,” Joel murmurs. Knowing how badly you need to release, Joel snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you, taunting you with what you could have and never giving you more. 
He’s fucking you at a steady pace now, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot. It’s not enough. The wet, gushing sounds of your cunt and the way Joel’s skin feels against yours has you feeling dizzy. Joel’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows you’re aching for release, but he’s determined to teach you a lesson, even if that means torturing himself. 
Yes, as pleasurable as this is for Joel to watch you fuck around and find out, it’s misery for him too. Fucking his fist with the tip of his cock kissing your pussy was no easy task, and neither is holding back from how he truly wants to fuck you. Because, truthfully, he wants to fucking ruin you. Show you just what he thinks of these stunts you’ve been pulling. Show you just what he thinks of your wandering hands and your innocent ‘adjustments’.
“Please,” you gasp, “Just make me come, Joel.”
“Yeah, I don’t know. M’not feelin’ particularly generous at the moment.”
“Please,” you whine, “Been needing y–this for so long.” 
“Ahhh,” Joel hums, “And the truth comes out,” he groans as he rolls his hips against you, “S’that what all of this is about? Been needin’ me?” you nod quickly, “Tell me how long you’ve been needing me.”
“Fuck, Joel, I don’t know. Forever,” you cry, “I need to come now, please. Need to come on your cock, fuck.”
“F’ya said somethin’ earlier instead of toyin’ with me like you’ve been doin’, we wouldn’t be in this mess, sweetheart.”
You don’t know how much more you can take. Tears of frustration trail down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides, intentionally, powerfully. 
Joel’s right there with you, struggling as well. He wants nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, having never seen anything before so erotic and beautiful as your squirming, writhing body. Your soft body, those sweet noises, that frustrated face of yours. And it’s all at his hands, he’s the one  responsible for turning into this mess. 
“Fuck,” he whispers through a shuddering breath, “Not gonna–”
“Joel,” you cry, the only word you know anymore being his name.
“Let’s be done with this,” he decides, fucking finally. He circles your clit steadily now, finding a pace and a pressure that has you letting out breathy gasps and moans as your orgasm approaches. “Want you to come for me,” he says.
His words are all you need. That warm, sticky feeling in the pit of your stomach builds quickly and releases almost instantaneously, sending pleasure erupting through your veins. You feel it everywhere, the back of your thighs, deep in your gut. Wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body as Joel’s thrusts quicken as he fucks you at a now frenzied, sloppy pace he chases his own release. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, coming with a deep, stuttering moan of your name. His muscles jerk and tremble as his cock pulses inside you, painting your insides with thick ropes of his spend. He pulls out of you groaning, his hot, slick release making your thighs sticky. He places a gentle kiss to your lips and then to your forehead, the action a stark contrast to his previous demeanor. All's right with the world now. Sexual frustration solved.
He takes his place behind you again, pulling you close to his chest for the last time and making sure the blanket is covering you both. You’re certainly warmed up now. A little too warm, even. But you’re not complaining. 
“Still not talkin’ about tonight,” Joel reminds you, “Ever.”
“Nope,” you agree.
Another quiet moment passes. For shits and giggles, you rub your ass against his crotch. “But I take it we’ll be doin’ this again, won’t we?” he says, defeated as you continue to tease him.
“Definitely.”
“Good god,” Joel sighs, “Get back over here, then. You drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he adds, pulling you back for round two. He was right, it’s a long night ahead of him.
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fairy-hub · 5 months
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𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐬
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, kissing, praise, satoru is so so so soft for you he might as well be a cloud, man is head over head for you as he should be! Lots of kisses, several kisses this man can’t stop kissing you to save his life
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“Finally! Hold me and never let me go please sweetheart I need to be held.” Falling onto his knees, wrapping his arms around you burying his face into your soft stomach.
Gliding your fingers through Satoru’s soft hair. He nuzzled his head, tightening his grasp. “You won’t have to take another step around the apartment without me.” Patting his head he freezes, pulling away with pink cheeks.
“Do that again!” Patting his head, leaning down kissing his forehead. “Can I be little spoon?” Slipping his blindfold off, peering up at you pleading.
Smiling at him, “All night long, how about we start that rom-com we’ve been talking about.” Satoru kisses your stomach, standing up sweeping you off his feet cradling you to his chest.
It’s easy to forget everything else in Satoru’s warm loving safe embrace. The outside world becomes meaningless, all that matters are Satoru’s sparkling blue eyes, his soft snow white hair and feeling of his soft undercut beneath your finger tips.
Satoru’s bright, goofy grin is makes your world brighter. “I love seeing you smile, it’s so beautiful and goofy.” Kissing his cheek, his cheeks turn from pink to red.
“I love makin’ ya blush just as much handsome.” He climbs into the bed, lay you down with care. Kissing your forehead, cupping your face with his large warm hands.
Grabbing his hand, kissing his palms. “I love how you’ve become my home. I was so lonely before you.” Gently kissing you, like he doesn’t want to break you. Putting all his sweet, tender passionate love into it.
You are so cherished and treasured, adored by him. He spent every second he could showing you.
Laying on top of you, his weight pushing you into the mattress. Sliding your fingers through his soft undercut into his long fluffy hair. Patting his head again, he pulls away with a large grin.
Kissing your cheek, “You’re my sugar.”
Kissing his nose, “You’re my sugarbear. I love you.”
Kissing your lips, “I love you too honey, let’s watch stupid idiots similar to ourselves fall for each other.” He sits up, watching you arrange your pillows. Grabbing the remote and pulling up the rom-com ‘Love is Infinite’.
Tugging his sweater off, setting it in the side table. Watching you get cozy, pulling the blanket aside and doing last minute adjustments to the pillow. Glancing over at him, “Something wrong?”
“Can’t I admire my lovely, sweet, charming, stunning fiancé?”
Oreo creampie m.list
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nonranghaes · 1 month
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heads up: vent fic
“it’s okay.” chris’s voice is quiet now. you almost don’t hear it over your sniffles. “you can touch me. it’s okay.”
all at once, you break. you step forward and nearly collapse into his arms. yours are wrapped around him immediately and he falls with you to his knees, your legs giving out underneath you as you finally sob into his shoulder. there’s a part of you that’s snarling and wanting to claw out of your skin, to run away and hide, but you don’t. chris’s arms are not a cage, but a warm blanket of comfort to you. his embrace drawing you further into his chest isn’t to muzzle you, but to let you hide in his presence. he is sunlight on a chilly day, a cozy place to nap in the shade, and the guiding moon at night all wrapped into one.
“it’s okay,” he coos, stroking your back as you cry freely. you’re clutching fistfuls of his shirt, as if you’re clinging to him for dear life as you break in his arms. “i’ve got you. you aren’t alone anymore.” he presses the tenderest of kisses just above your ear. “you’re safe.”
and for once, you think you might actually be.
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midnightorchids · 22 days
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hey babe- I sucks so much that your sick and stressed. Maybe some soft Jason HCs will help. - Jason will highlight and annotate lines or passages in his book that remind him of you. He will say them to you late at night when both of you are tucked away in bed to make it seem like he made it up himself. You know he's lying since you have read all of his books but you indulge him. That adorable proud smirk on his face is too kissable not too. - Both of you have scheduled reading dates once a month where you'll spend most of the day just reading on the couch. Your head in his lap or his head in yours. You spend supper that night talking about your separate books. - He loves it when you slightly tug on his hair or gently scratch his skin (non-sexually). It's like a reminder to him that he didn't make you up and that he can still feel you so closely. He's dead asleep as soon as his head connects with your chest and your hands tangle in his thick black hair. He'll smile and giggle like a little kid as you kiss the white tuft of hair tangled over his forehead. - If your a hero/vigilante yourself, he coordinates his patrol times so that you'll start patrol together. He only takes his mask off during patrol time when he's with you on a secluded roof-top or warehouse. The first thing he always asks is 'you ok hun? anything happen?' - After patrol, he's always antsy to pamper you first. He helps you out of ur uniform, sweeping you up into his arms to be placed in the bath. The warm water, scented at your request, settles your nerves, the tension leaving your muscles as Jason starts washing down your shoulders and chest. He settles behind you, your body trapped against his. His legs on either side of you and his thick arms holding you tightly against his chest. His chin usually rests on the top of your head as you ramble about your evening. He'll press soft sweet kisses under your ear and along the curve of your neck, making you giggle. - He'll help you step out of the bath and wrap you tightly in a towel, giving you one of his shirts to change into as he finds his sweatpants. You fall asleep on top of him, nestling into the safety of his arms. Both of you are cozy and extremely sappy. But it's just a fraction of the love that he pours into you and your relationship. Jason falls asleep smiling, knowing that he has the most important person in his life wrapped up and safe tangled in his arms.
You don’t understand, this genuinely just made my whole day, week even!! Thank you!!! These are the sweetest headcanons ever, I would die for soft Jason.
I had the stupidest grin on my face reading the first one, he’s such a loser, but in the best way possible.
And because of that, I’d also like to add on to that one…!
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You know when a song comes on that you know really well and you just can’t help but sing along? I think there would be a time in your relationship where he’d recite you a verse from his favourite poem, acting all high and mighty like this is his own work. You’ll look at him with a small smile on your face, trying to hold yourself back from reciting along with him, but you can’t help it!! Once you start, he’ll stop and get this really cute, sheepish smile, knowing that he’s been caught.
You’ll both let out a giggle and to tease him further, you’ll tell him he’s an amazing writer and that you’re a big fan of his works. This will end in one of two ways, he’ll tackle you and smother you with kisses or he’ll tickle you until you’re both a laughing mess. Either way, this doesn’t stop him from reading out his favourite lines to you and pretending like they’re his own.
The scheduled reading dates one also has me on such a chokehold. I want to be bundled up in a cosy sweater with big blanket and have him lay his head on my lap, while I play with his hair and read to him (I suck at reading out loud, he’d probably make fun of me LMAO).
I also want him to tell me about the books he’s reading, his eyes wide, full of life and beaming with passion.
This is when he looks the prettiest. He’s so excited, he’s waving his hands around gesturing to things, pacing around the room, trying to explain this crucial point in his story to you. You can’t help but stare at him in awe, he’s just so so pretty like this.
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bumblebeesfromvenus · 4 months
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Diamond Rings 💫
Bale!Bruce Wayne x wife!reader
A/N: I finally got around to writing this lovely request!! Fluffy morning sex is perfect for Bruce AHHH 😭 and this is also the sequel to 'My Precious Jewel' !! Get your nom noms :3
~Fi 🐝
《Prompt》: the ask is here!
《Requested by》: anon <3
《Warnings》: NSFW CONTENT. proceed with caution. Handjob, edging (barely), PiV, throat holding (???), creampie (don't be like them), lil bit of cockwarming, so fluffy it's sickening, Bruce is a hopeless romantic, change my mind. (You can't)
《Word count》: 2.6k
Sequel to My Precious Jewel ♧
Can be read as stand alone as well though!
Masterlist ✨️
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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The morning sun was streaming in through the curtains, tickling your face. You stirred, craning your neck to take a peak at the time. 8:39 am. You sighed sleepily, turning around and snuggling closer to the man who had his strong arms wrapped around you.
You smiled softly as you saw his peaceful expression, still dreaming away. Feeling a cold sensation on your hot skin, you gently lifted the covers. The hand that held you tightly yet so lovingly had a gold ring sitting on its ring finger. You quickly inspected your own hand, finding a golden wedding band there as well.
You had to stop yourself from squealing like a little girl when you realized that all of it, the wedding, the reception and the kiss weren't a dream. You were officially married now.
There were so many emotions bubbling up in your chest. Unbridled joy, disbelief, and pure excitement. But, you'd decided to deal with all of that later, and for now just enjoy your first morning snooze as Mrs. Wayne.
You pressed a sweet kiss to Bruce's lips, and closed your eyes, burying your face in his t-shirt clad chest. It wasn't even 9 in the morning. You'd sleep till dusk like this if you could. Safely in the embrace of your now husband, feeling each other's steady heartbeat and soft breaths.
A comfortable silence lingered over the estate, safe for Alfred who was probably doing all kinds of things already. You'd urged for him to sleep in today, he deserved a break. But, to your dismay, you knew the man and he couldn't just sit and relax even if he was chained to the chair. Well, as long as he enjoyed whatever he had to do you wouldn't complain.
Your slightly parted lips were pressed right above his heart, gently brushing the cozy fabric of his shirt with every breath. One of your arms was slung over his waist, your fingertips gliding over his back in whatever random pattern your wrist decided to carry out. It was a soothing gesture, making Bruce hum sleepily as he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your hair tickling his face.
His arms tightened around you, making it clear that he didn't want to leave the bed either. He felt like he had been put in chains, in a loving and warm way, not in a constricting and controlling manner. The chains that were your love and affection kept him tied down, sinking into the soft sheets, with an even softer you in his grip.
"Don't ever wanna leave this bed..." you mumbled into his chest. A drowsy smile tugged at Bruce's lips as maneuvered you closer so your legs were intertwined.
"I don't either... never wanna be without you." He sighed, feeling the familiar and gentle call of sleep.
"Wanna sink into the mattress, let it swallow us whole."
Your husband chuckled softly. Lack of sleep and early mornings did tend to bring out the poet in you.
"You can tell me all about that in, say... 4 hours?" His words were jumbled, the heavy fog of slumber taking over his brain. It took you a minute to put together what he said, as your own brain was still neatly tucked in its own metaphorical bed.
The furrow in your brows softened when you understood what he was trying to tell you, and you pulled the blanket tighter around the both of you.
"Very, very good idea."
Soon enough, you slipped back into colorful dreams, safely tucked against Bruce's chest.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
A strange feeling that settled in Bruce's bones is what woke him up. It wasn't an unpleasant feeling by all means, it was just... odd. A peculiar buzz in his skull, that slowly trickled down into his spine. It was euphoric almost, making him hazy about his surroundings but too aware of every nerve in his body.
His shirt was soft, too soft, and the buttons on the pillowcase dug uncomfortably into his ribcage. The sliver of sun that managed to sneak its way through the thick curtains fell directly on his face.
His nose scrunched up as the blinding light slowly burned his eyes. Yet the warming and comforting feeling on his cheeks made him stay in place, taking in the new day instead of pulling the covers over his face.
He shifted slightly, shivering when a cool sensation set the nerves in his thigh on fire. The sight of your hand, your married hand, on his leg, made a fire ignite in his stomach that was so ravenous and destructive it could've turned him to ash from the inside out.
The gleaming of your ring, the ring that he put there, made his heart rush and his cock twitch in his briefs.
"Been waiting for you to wake up." With a sweet smile playing on your lips and a certain glint in your pretty eyes that he'd seen many times before, you stroked your thumb over his skin. Your touch made his breath hitch ever so slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by you. It never did.
You were able to read Bruce like an open book, all the tricks he'd acquired over the years and used on the public to shift his image didn't work on you. They never really had, even from the beginning. For some odd reason, that he couldn't explain, you could see right through him.
"Hm, yeah? Could've just woken me up, honey. You're my wife now, after all." Bruce grinned, a strong arm sneaking around your back and pressing you flush against his chest. Your cheeks were on fire. That word still flustered you to the high heavens, and you reckoned it would for a little while.
"It would've been a shame to wake you. You looked like you were crafted by the gods." You whispered softly, pressing your lips to his in a tender but hungry kiss. Bruce melted into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he lost himself in the feeling of his lips on yours, moving gracefully against each other. With heavy breaths, puffy lips and glazed eyes you severed your connection.
"The sun sitting on your cheekbones," your fingertips traced over his face in such a gentle manner, one could assume you were afraid of breaking his peacefulness.
"And on your lips," your thumb swiped over his bottom lip, which curled up into a smile.
"Down your neck... it would've been a crime to break such beauty."
Your hand settled on the back of his neck and gently kneaded his muscles.
"I'm flattered, though no beauty can ever match yours, my love. You will eternally be the universe's rose, blooming in all your glory no matter if the sun shines or not."
"You need to stop reading all those books Alfred recommends to you." You giggled, an obvious blush on your face.
"I don't think I will." He smirked before capturing your lips in a kiss again. It was desperate and full of passion, making you sigh softly against his mouth. His hands became needy, grabbing at the fat of your hips. Bruce trailed his kisses over your cheeks, to your jaw and down your neck, sucking and gently biting at your skin.
You moaned quietly, your body sinking into the sheets at the feeling of his lips against your skin. Grabbing at the hem of his white shirt, you swiftly pulled it over his head, revealing his mouth-watering physique to you. The hand that had been resting on his thigh up until this point now cupped the tent in his briefs, stroking gently but with a firm hand.
He groaned into your shoulder, squeezing you tighter.
"None of that, baby, look at me." You cooed softly, gripping the hair at the base of his skull and gently pulling him away from your neck. Your hand dipped into his underwear and gave his cock a few strokes before shoving his briefs down his thighs.
Never breaking eye contact, you licked a fat stripe over your palm, guiding your hand down to his dick and rubbing at the tip. His lips parted slightly and few throaty groans left him.
"J-Jesus Christ, sweetheart, your hands really are magic." He breathed out, his head tipping forward just a smidge as you found a steady pace with your hand wrapped around him.
"Only for you, always for you.." you whispered against his cheek, feeling his breathing speed up. His hands were digging into your hips by this point as you circled the tip of his cock with your thumb, his pre-cum and your spit slicking him perfectly.
When you ran your finger over the underside of his shaft, against the bulging vein, pretty moans spilled from his lips as he approached his high. But before he could float on that cloud of bliss, you retracted your hand and left him hanging on the edge. His eyes were hazy and filled with need and desperation as he let out a frustrated groan.
"You're gonna regret that, little minx." Bruce smirked, but there was a fire in his eyes that made the heat in your belly boil over.
"Will I?" You challenged with a wicked smile, making him chuckle before smashing your lips together and silencing any further comment you might've made.
He pushed you onto your back and quickly pulled your nightgown over your head before sliding your panties down your legs.
Bruce's hands were placed on your inner thighs, pushing your knees further apart. He groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt, pupils swallowing the brown of his irises whole. Your naked form isn't something he hadn't seen before, but his mind was foggy with emotions of all kinds; the golden sunlight that painted your skin, the way your hair fell into your face, and that sparkly diamond on your finger making his heart swell in his chest.
You were his, through and through, and he never doubted it, but to see that solid piece of evidence sitting so nicely on your ringfinger made something stir in him; something primal, almost.
His hands trailed to your waist, kneading your flesh, as he leaned forward to be closer to you.
"I'd eat you till morning, honey, but I need to be inside you." You could tell that he was trying to hide the urgency and need in his voice, blanketing it in a soft and loving tone.
"I need you inside. Please, my love." You begged needily, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in until his dick was prodding at your entrance.
"Besides," you whispered when his head found its place in the crook of your neck,"you can always have me for breakfast later."
With an amused huff, he slowly pushed inside of you, filling you up delightfully.
"You'll be the death of me." Bruce groaned, intertwining your fingers on both hands and pressing his forehead to yours.
Your beautiful moans echoed softly in the bedroom when he started to slowly thrust his hips into yours.
The movement knocked the breath from your lungs every single time, your nerves tingling with a sizzling fire that crawled up your spine. He sped up his thrusts, moaning and groaning against your lips.
You pressed your hand against his chest to slow him down again.
"Slow, slow... wanna feel every part of you."
You could've sworn you heard the faintest whimper escape his throat, gripping your hands tighter has his cock dragged along your walls. You could feel every ridge and bump, your head lolling to the side in bliss.
With languid and deep thrusts, Bruce continued to bring the both of you to the edge of your ecstasy. As your moans got louder, you reached for the hand with his ring on it and gently placed it around your neck.
Your husband shifted his weight so he wouldn't fall on top of you, but there was a hint of concern in his eyes. You placed your ringed hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
You just wanted him to gently hold your throat, wanting to feel the cold metal against your burning skin.
"You won't hurt me, I promise. Jus' need you to hold me- fuck!" You cried out at a particularly deep thrust, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your nails into the back of Bruce's hand.
"Look at you. My pretty fucking wife. All mine. I made you mine, and everyone knows. They just need to look at that pretty diamond ring on your finger." His voice dropped an octave, and his words were almost a growl as he plunged in and out of you.
"You're s'good to me, honey. The perfect husband f'me." You moaned, your lips clumsily brushing against his as he panted on top of you.
"God, I love you." He grunted, his movement becoming sloppy as he was nearing his climax. You could feel the bliss gnawing at your limbs as well. Bruce trailed his hand between your bodies and circled your puffy clit, which only made you succumb to the pleasure faster.
"F-Fuck- oh my god, I'm so close!" You almost screeched, trying to ground yourself with him in any way you could.
"Come f'me, yeah?" He heaved, struggling to get the words out between his groans. Any more moans and cries were muffled as his lips greedily found yours, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot inside of you over and over again.
With a a strategic swipe over your clit and a well timed thrust, your orgasm crashed into you, jumbled 'I love you's falling from your lips as Bruce spilled inside of you with your name on his lips. The hand around your throat tightened only a little bit, prolonging your high that much longer as bliss clouded your brain.
Bruce gently lowered himself on top of you, steadying his breathing against your chest. You were catching your breath as well, tracing patterns on his bare back. He was still nestled deep inside of you. He rolled the two of you over so you were on top of him, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you relaxed in his arms.
"I love you so much." You mumbled, eyes falling shut. You didn't know what time it was, but it didn't matter to you. You had nowhere to be except right here, snuggled against your husband.
"I love you too, sweetheart. Are you alright? D'you need anything?" he asked softly, pressing kisses to the top of your head.
"Hm, no. Jus' wanna stay like this. Maybe take a nap." You yawned, making Bruce chuckle.
"Do you need anything?" You questioned in return, placing a kiss to
his shoulder. "I could use a nap as well." He laughed softly, pulling the covers over the both of you.
"Good. Cus' I'm not getting up." You sighed, letting yourself be loved by him. His hands lazily ran through your hair, lulling you to sleep.
"Sweet dreams, baby." He whispered against your hairline, coaxing a sleepy smile onto your lips.
"You too, my love."
Both of you drifted off with the sun high up in the sky, not a care in the world that it was well past noon. Your hearts beating in sync, your soft breathing mimicking each other and connected deeper and closer as ever, the bonds of your love shinning in the dwindling sunlight with your hands intertwined.
If Bruce could make you wear his heart, he would, but for now the diamond ring would have to do.
You were his and he was yours. The perfect balance of love.
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《Taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny
Let me know if you want to be added! <3
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wheresarizona · 2 months
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Learning to Live Part 31
summary: Mondays are Javier’s least favorite day. Add in he has a meeting he’s doing as a favor to the Sheriff that he doesn’t want to do, and the day was destined to be shitty. But things take a turn for the better that morning when he gets a text message from his fiancée that reads: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
rating: E (18+!! No y/n, alternating POV, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, Protective Javier Peña, Angry Javier Peña (not at you), Switch Javier Peña (there’s subby Javi as a treat). first smut: masturbation (f), vibrators, accidental voyeurism, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, **BREEDING** (an actual attempt at babymaking). second smut: dry humping, coming in pants, semi-public sex? (it happens in a hospital). in both: dirty talk, praise | discussion of pregnancy, dysfunctional family, insults, yelling, arguing, angst with a happy ending, Javier meets your parents for the first time, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional hurt/comfort, Javier going off)
pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader (a nurse with no physical descriptions)
word count: 16k
a/n: The dirty talk in this one makes me 🫠🫠🫠. This chapter is something a lot of people have been waiting for. Thank you to everyone who comments and reblogs! I try to reply to them all, and if I miss any, it’s not on purpose and I’m sorry! The love so many people have for this silly story of mine makes me literally 😭😭😭. So, THANK YOU. We’ve got about nine chapters left after this one (could become more). Thank you to the love of my life @juletheghoul for giving this a look over and ensuring my Spanish is correct. I love you.
Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!
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The New Year started with Javier’s big hands caressing your face as he kissed you, the Times Square ball having dropped on the nearby television in your best friend’s living room, where you were attending a party. He had tasted like cherry and orange jello from the Tequila Sunrise jello shot you convinced him to take with you a minute before midnight and smelled like his spicy cologne; the familiar scent had made you feel warm and safe—it had made you feel at home.
Javier Peña was your home.
He was your always and forever, the sun shining after it rained, a warm, cozy blanket on a cold day, the bright star that guides you through the darkness, and the greatest love you would ever have.
And he belonged to you as you belonged to him.
The New Year started with a kiss—one full of promises for the months ahead and shared hopes and dreams; your lips pressed together and moving in sync, silently proclaiming to the other your insurmountable love and undying devotion. And when it had ended, you wore matching grins, Javi's cheeks tinted in a lovely pink flush, his perfect full lips glistening under the room's lights from saliva while his beautiful chocolate-colored eyes gazed tenderly into yours, and he said, "Happy New Year, Cielito. I know it's gonna be a great fucking year because I have you—my best friend, the love of my life, and in ten days, my wife.”
Monday, January 4, started like any other Monday—the alarm going off and your fiancé hitting the snooze button so he could pull you into his arms and get nine minutes of uninterrupted cuddling in before the incessant beeping went off again. When your time was up, he sometimes, like this morning, grumbled as he moved to turn it off, "Fucking hate Mondays." This was why his coffee mug had Garfield the cat on it with a speech bubble containing the same sentiment, just without the cursing, but let’s be real, if that orange cartoon cat wasn’t censored, he’d absolutely say ‘fuck.’
In December, Javier’s prima (cousin) Alma—his tío’s (uncle’s) daughter and sister to Sebastián—was home from college and introduced you to something the kids had started doing: texting. You found this new form of communication came in handy when you were busy and didn’t have time to talk, like right this second as you stood in a storage room at work an hour into your shift with a bag of saline in your hand, your cell phone in the other sending Javi a message.
Your thumb punched the numbers on the keypad, typing: Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
The phone went back into your scrub pants pocket, and you started grabbing the other supplies you needed from the shelves. Seconds later, ringing sounded, making you sigh and have to juggle what you held into one arm to fish your cell phone out again, seeing he was calling from his office phone. You pressed the accept button, the device going to your ear as you answered in exasperation, “Why do you always call instead of texting back?”
“Because talking is easier than trying to type shit out with the keypad,” Javier replied. “Why do you send messages when you know I’m just going to call you?”
“My naive hope that you’ll get I’m too busy to talk.”
“I’m sorry, I’ll make it quick—is this a regular lunch quickie, or is it finally time…?” He sounded hopeful.
“With how I’m feeling a little crampy and insanely horny this morning, I’m pretty sure it’s time—like, the horniness is bad enough there’s no way I can wait until work is over.”
There was noticeable excitement in his voice. “Apartment or truck?”
As tempting as the truck was, you weren’t in the mood for the risk.
“Home.”
“Got it, and why is there extra punctuation after the question? Is it code or something? Should I know what it means?”
“Turn the phone sideways, and it looks like a winking face—I was trying to be flirty and cute with my request for dick.”
“Huh, I guess it does kinda look like a face…”
“I have to get back to work, babe. We’re meeting at home on lunch for you to fuck my brains out, got it?”
“Yes, Cielito—home on lunch to fuck a baby into you.”
“Perfect. Love you, bye.”
“Love you, too. Bye, mi amor (my love).”
The device was put away, and you double-checked you got everything you needed for the new patient who’d just been brought to your department to recover from surgery. While in the patient’s room setting up their IV, you felt your pocket vibrate. After ensuring your new occupant was comfortable and not in need of anything, you left the room, looking at your phone as you walked down the hall and finding you had an unread text from Javi that you opened:
I love you and im excited for lunch ;)
It made you smile, and you replied back: Love u too. cant wait to see u <3
A few minutes after getting back to work, you felt the vibration of another message from him that ended up containing a question: What does <3 mean?
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Robyn got a rushed 'See you in an hour' as you left for lunch in a hurry.
You didn't have road rage—it was more road annoyance when people were driving below the speed limit, didn't go as soon as the light turned green, or cut you off like that asshole who worked over at the hardware store did; what was his name? Jimmy? Jerry? Terry? It didn’t matter; he got a raised middle finger. When you pulled into your parking space at the apartment complex, Javi's spot beside yours was empty, and you booked it inside, kicking off your shoes once you got through the door, throwing your purse onto the console table in the entryway, along with your keys.
The thought of leaving the front door unlocked for Javi was squashed almost immediately with the reminder of him telling you always to keep it locked when he wasn't home—so you locked it, the deadbolt turning with a click.
When you told him you were insanely horny, it wasn’t an exaggeration—the horniness had your heartbeat pulsating in your cunt and made the scrubs you were wearing feel stifling over your heated skin, needing them off as soon as possible; your mind was consumed with all of the dirty things Javi could do to ease the ache between your legs—his thick fingers pushing into you and crooking them to hit that one spot only he could reach; his hips pounding into you from behind while rubbing your clit just right to make you come around him; his talented tongue and mouth working you over, licking and sucking on your wet heat with the finesse of a man devouring his first meal in weeks; his cock fucking into you nice and slow, feeling the stretch you couldn’t replicate with your fingers or a toy.
All those thoughts had you wanting Javier with every fiber of your being, and each passing second he wasn’t there was driving you crazy.
Walking toward the bedroom, you removed your clothes as you went, shimmying out of your pants, pushing down and off your panties, your blue scrub shirt getting tugged over your head next, followed by your white tank top, and finally, upon entering the room, your bra was unsnapped, and gravity took it to the floor, leaving behind a trail of garments that’d lead your fiancé to you buck naked and wanting.
You crawled onto the bed Javi had made that morning, the navy blue duvet decorated in golden suns, moons, and bright white stars. The burning ache at the apex of your thighs was begging to be assuaged by any means necessary, and with the absence of the person you wanted more than anything, it was up to you to take off the edge until he arrived.
Pulling open your bedside table drawer, you got out your small bullet vibrator and got comfortable lying down with your head on a pillow and slightly spreading your legs—cold air hit the slick-coated skin on your inner thighs and the lips of your sex, making you shiver. The toy hummed to life with the click of a button, your eyes closing as you slid it along your wet folds, the thrumming igniting sparks of arousal in your belly. You were imagining Javi on top of you, his hips pinning you to the mattress with his dick buried inside you, thrusting deep while his tongue was in your mouth—your jaw went slack, and your spine stiffened when you circled the vibe around your swollen clit, the sharp bolt of pleasure shooting to your core causing you to gasp.
The excitement in your pelvis was growing, moving the waves of vibrations side to side over your sensitive nub, fanning the flames of arousal in your center. You were so turned on your orgasm was building quickly, your nipples tightening, the heat in your abdomen spreading out from your groin, and getting hotter by the second. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead, your thighs shaking as you envisioned Javier fucking you.
“Javi,” you moaned.
“I’m here, baby,” came his deep rasp. Your eyes flew open as you gasped, jolting in surprise.
He was standing at the end of the bed in his charcoal grey suit pants and a white dress shirt gaping at the neck from the three or so buttons he’d undone. His jacket and the red-patterned tie he’d left for work wearing were nowhere to be seen—there was a noticeable bulge at the front of his slacks, his pupils blown wide, his hungry gaze feasting on you spread out in front of him while he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the golden skin of his forearms, the overhead light glinting off of the face of the silver Rolex watch on his wrist you’d gotten him for Christmas.
Seeing him there in the flesh had such a strong spike of arousal cutting through you that you were unable to stop your desperate moan of his name. “I need you,” you whined, lifting the vibrator from yourself and turning it off in preference of having him instead. “I need you to fuck me—right now, Javier.”
His big hand was stroking over his straining length beneath his pants, his eyes locked on your glistening center. He licked his lips like he was imagining what you’d taste like. “You weren’t lying about being insanely horny, Cielito,” he said, not moving his gaze from between your thighs. “Look at how wet you are—how needy your pussy is for me. You want my dick, hermosa (beautiful)? You want my come?”
“Yes,” you answered, nodding your head.
“You can have it, Cielito.” You squeaked in surprise when he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you toward him to have your ass at the edge of the mattress. “—in a minute,” he continued and dropped to his knees, throwing your legs over his shoulders.
He eagerly dove in, running the flat of his tongue through your slit to gather your wetness with an appreciative hum. It felt so good, your lip was pulled between your teeth, and your fingers curled into his hair, moaning as he lapped at your cunt.
The tip of his beautiful nose rubbed your clit with every drag of his plush mouth along your pussy, causing shocks of electricity to course through your wet core, your eyes rolling back, and the pleasure building inside you. His groans were vibrating against your sensitive skin, his tongue dipping into your opening before moving up to tease your bundle of nerves—flicking at it side to side, over and over again.
Your fists tightened in his hair. “Javi,” you whimpered. “God, it’s so good.”
There was something about someone enthusiastically going down on you that made the act a million times better—your past boyfriends would only do it if you asked, or they felt they had to because you gave them a blow job. But Javier? This man wanted to eat you out. He craved your taste; he loved getting you off with his mouth. You were pretty sure if he could, he’d live with his face shoved in your cunt, and you loved hearing how much he was enjoying himself; his moans making it sound like you were the one pleasuring him.
The horniness and using the vibrator had you so worked up that adding in Javi eating your pussy like it was his favorite meal had you cresting in hardly any time at all—your insides knotting up, winding tighter and tighter until the tension shattered and you came with a gasp of his name, relishing the euphoria that washed over you. His tongue went down to your entrance, licking up every bit of your release he could get, not missing a single drop.
The orgasm was nice, but it was more of an appetizer—it got you into the mood and even more excited for the main course that was getting his cock inside you so you’d finally be relieved of the aching emptiness in your core.
You let go of his hair, your words coming out hoarse, “Can I have your dick now?”
He let your legs fall off his shoulders and rose with a crooked grin, his mustache and the bottom half of his face wet with your juices. He started undoing his belt. “I’m sorry for making you wait,” he said, popping open the button on his slacks and pulling down the zipper. “I wanted to make sure I got you off first.” He shoved the pants and white boxer briefs down his legs, his cock springing free under the hem of his dress shirt.
Sitting up on your elbows, you smiled at him. “A gentleman,” you replied with a wink. “I’ll take it you’re unbelievably excited about possibly getting me pregnant, and you don’t think you’ll be able to last? Which, no shame—it flatters me when you’re so jazzed about fucking me you bust a nut sooner than you wanted.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I’m excited.” He looked down, lifting the bottom of his shirt with one hand and spitting onto the fingers of the other, using them to slick up his throbbing length and making it shine in the lights of the room. “I’m really fucking excited.” He hooked his left arm under your knee and pulled you a little closer as he stepped forward with his dick in his right hand, pumping it a couple of times and pressing the tip to your soaked hole. “I love you,” the last word devolved into a groan as he pushed forward, sliding all the way home inside your cunt until he was balls deep.
The moment he breached your entrance, your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch your tight walls had to make for him to fit; your breaths went ragged, and your fingers clutched the duvet at the fullness. This was what you wanted. This was what you needed, feeling him so deep inside you that you were sure if he went any deeper, he’d nudge your spleen.
Your eyes had closed, and you fell back, the first sound escaping your lips coming out as a trembling whisper of his name. Javi went completely still for some seconds to calm himself down before he got his arms under each of your knees to spread you wide.
His voice was huskier when he spoke. “This what you needed, mi amor?” he asked. “My cock? Need me to fill this perfect pussy with my come? Need me to fuck it so deep I get you pregnant?”
“Yes,” you moaned.
“I’ll make you a mother, Cielito,” he said in a sure tone.
That statement had you clenching around him, Javi hissing. He audibly swallowed.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed. “It’s fucking embarrassing how close I am.”
You huffed in amusement, your mouth dry and sweat forming on your brow. “You riled yourself up while riling me up—you played yourself.”
“Don’t give me shit.”
Opening your eyes, his broad figure was looming over you with a grumpy look on his perfect face, his dark eyes on yours.
“I’m not giving you shit, Javi,” you said. “I love it—now, hurry up and fuck me, so we’ll be parents in nine months.”
That seemed to kick him into gear, Javi pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in hard enough to push the air from your lungs, setting up a hard, fast pace that had your mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ He was pounding into you, grunting with each thrust, and stuttering your moans—it was so amazing, arousal was seeping from your cunt and down his shaft, hearing him working his dick in and out of your sopping hole and the harsh slap of his balls against your skin.
Heat was growing at the base of your spine, your thoughts consumed with how good he was fucking you and the fact there was a chance he could knock you up—that alone had you speeding toward another orgasm.
Ever since the first time Javier told you he loved you, his preference in sex positions had changed—before, it was backshots, railing you from behind to the point he had you incoherent and drooling. Now, it was anything face to face for the intimacy and wanting to kiss you, which was so unbelievably sweet.
A newer development that you’d noticed not too long ago was he liked having access to your breasts—he was still an ass man, but there’d been an uptick in titty action, like at this moment with him wrapping your legs around his waist so he could lean down to suck your nipple between his lips while he palmed your other breast, his hips never waning from their brutal onslaught.
His tongue laved at your stiff peak, sucking and licking it and causing lightning to shoot straight to your core, the volume of your moans increasing. The hot pleasure curling in your gut made you move your hands into his hair, your legs squeezed tight around his hips.
His cock was pushing in and out of you, filling you over and over again, his mouth moving to your other nipple to give it the same attention while his fingers pinched and rolled the first—he had your pussy weeping for him, your slick escaping where you were joined, dripping down between your asscheeks as he fucked you into the mattress.
You were almost there. The muscles in your stomach were tensing in preparation for your release.
You wanted to kiss, and he got the message when you pulled his head up by the hair, his lips smashing against yours, holding his weight on his arms beside your head. The kiss was messy, with your tongues tangling and teeth clattering, sharing breaths, his body taking up your vision. You were lost in it all and all of him, Javier becoming the only thing you could think about, the two of you in your own little world, where nothing else mattered except each other.
When you needed air, your mouth blazed a sloppy trail of kisses along his jaw to his neck, his breathing getting shallower and rhythm jerky, knowing he was close—you sucked on the taut skin of his throat hard enough to leave a mark, and it made him whine, the sound going straight to your cunt.
“I’m gonna come inside you,” he said in a breathy rumble, the deep timbre of his voice making your scalp tingle. “I’m gonna—shit—I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.” It was your turn to whine. “I’m gonna fill you up, keep you stuffed until it—fuck—until it takes.” He sounded totally and completely wrecked.
Your words were muffled into his neck, “Y-Yes, Javi—give it to me. Fuck a baby into me.”
“I wanna,” he groaned, “I wanna see you pregnant with my child.” He wasn’t going to last much longer; his strokes were getting sloppier, and he’d hit the point of being so close that he rambled. “I wanna see your body change—your tits get bigger with milk.” His dick twitched hard inside you. “You’ll be so fucking beautiful—fuck—so fucking beautiful carrying my baby.” He was panting. “I love you so much—please don’t leave—please don’t ever leave me.”
You grabbed his cheeks and passionately kissed him, saying into his lips, “I’m never gonna leave you—I love you—I love you,” you repeated with more emphasis. “I’m yours—I’ll always be yours. Put a baby in me, Javi—fuck your come deep.”
That did him in.
His groan was ragged as he broke the kiss to shove his face into your neck—his teeth were bared, his hot breaths fanning against your skin, his pace going frantic.
“Yes, yes, yes,” was gasped from your lips, chanting the word like a prayer. “Come in me,” you practically beg.
His hips bucked into you one last time, pushing his cock in as deep as it could go inside you, feeling it thicken and jerk as he came, gushing inside you with a rumbling moan. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, the pleasurable pain making you gasp, feeling the hot flood of his come painting your insides. His hips were rolling to fuck it deeper, catching you off guard when he suddenly shifted his weight onto one arm to shove his other hand down between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit.
There was a quivering in your belly, a quaking that spread out to make your arms and legs tremble, his fingers circling, stroking, over and over again.
“Come for me,” he murmured against your ear. “Let me have it.”
You hit your tipping point, falling over the edge with an unintelligible cry—the surge of pleasure that bursted from your core had your hips jerking and your pussy spasming around him, Javi’s head falling against your shoulder with a strangled groan of good girl because you were squeezing him like a vice.
Now, this was one of those orgasms that consumed your entire being, taking you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but an incoherent, blissed-out puddle of a person who couldn’t even remember their own name.
A body slumped onto you, welcoming the familiar weight, the only sounds in the room being the hum of the air conditioning and panted breaths of the two inhabitants. It was reflex that had your fingers pressing into his slightly sweat-damp hair and rubbing your fingertips along his scalp—he made a pleased sound in the back of his throat.
Seconds pass, then some minutes, it was Javi who spoke first, grumbling with his face now in the crook of your neck, “I don’t wanna go back to fucking work.”
The reminder that your workday wasn’t over made you whine ‘No’ dramatically.
His hand, not above your head, rubbed along your ribs. “I know, baby—it’s shitty.”
“Why did we think a lunch quickie was a good idea?”
“Was there any thinking…?” he questioned.
“God, you’re so right. We suspected I was ovulating and immediately jumped to ‘We need to fuck right now.’ Zero planning whatsoever. An error was made when we assumed it’d be like our usual sexy lunchtime shenanigans.”
He hummed in agreement. “Was it better than normal for you, too…?”
“Um, yes—apparently, actual babymaking sex is another level of amazing.”
“It really is.” He held up his wrist so you could look at his watch. “How much time do we have?”
“Not enough for you to shower or either of us to eat—we probably should’ve gotten up like five minutes ago.”
“Fuck,” he said. Javi groaned as he pushed himself up to stand, a hiss slipping through his teeth when he pulled himself out of you.
Sitting up on your elbows, his attention was focused on the swollen lips between your thighs, his come starting to dribble from your used hole. You spread your legs a little wider for him to get a better look.
“So fucking pretty,” he mused, his hand moving without a second thought to catch his leaking spend on two fingers and press it back inside you. “Not letting a drop go to waste, mi amor.” His eyes met yours, laying his free hand low on your belly over your womb. He smiled. “A couple of weeks from now, you could be pregnant.”
You shared his happy expression. “We are going to fuck so much that your dick is going to hurt by the end of this week—might even get chafed.”
He grimaced. “Why are you excited about that?”
Reaching, you pressed a palm to his cheek. “Don’t worry, babe, I’ll ice it for you.”
“That doesn’t make it any better…”
“It’s a sacrifice we must make to knock me up.”
He pulled his fingers out. “Sacrifice we have to make? I’m the one making the sacrifice…”
Your eyebrow lifted. “Okay, and what about the sacrifice I have to make with my body growing a tiny human from practically nothing, sharing said body with them for nine months, then having to go through probably the most excruciating pain of my entire life to push them out of my vagina, Javier? Still think you’re the only one making a sacrifice by being uncomfortable for a couple of days after contributing your pleasurable 1% to our group project, that I will be doing 99% of the work on?”
His eyes had rounded, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Right,” he said and cleared his throat. “I’m fine with the dick discomfort—I’m sorry, cariño (sweetheart).” He rubbed your bicep with his clean hand. “Can I get you some water?” He checked his watch. “Fuck it, I’ll go back to the office late. I don’t have a meeting for another half an hour anyway—I’m gonna make you lunch to take to work.” He bent to pull up his underwear and slacks he didn’t bother buttoning up and leaned to give you a quick kiss. “I just need to wash up real fast—I love you. Thank you.” He pecked you on the lips again.
“I love you, too—you don’t have to make me food,” you said as he retreated to the bathroom. “I’m not mad at you.”
“I know you’re not mad,” he replied over his shoulder, “but I’m still making my wife and the future mother of my children food because I love her and appreciate everything she does for me.”
You gasped in pretend shock. “You’re married?!” you exclaimed. “I’m sleeping with a married man?!”
He stopped in the bathroom doorway and turned your way with a look that said he was done with your shit, and it made you grin.
“You will be in seven days,” he replied.
You got up from the mattress on shaky legs, walking toward him.
“Does your wife know that?”
“Cielito?”
“Yes, Javier?”
“I’m fucking you in seven days—mark it on your calendar.”
That made you giggle. “If I scheduled all the times we fuck, there wouldn’t be any empty days on the calendar.”
You were close to him.
“Probably.” He shrugged. “But next Monday is special.”
“Is that so?” you asked, finally in his space and wrapping your arms around his shirt-covered middle. He hugged you back, looking you in the eyes with a smile.
“Yeah,” he answered, “‘cause it’ll be the first time I fuck you as my lawfully wedded wife.”
“Should I expect sex to be different as Mrs. Javier Peña?”
He nodded. “It’ll be better.”
And before the lunch quickie, you’d just had, you would’ve told him that was impossible. However, now, you thought he was right; that as your relationship continued to grow and evolve, so would you both, and it’d affect something like your sex life, hopefully, positively as each year passed. It felt like you won the lottery that this kind, sweet, caring, respectful, incredible man loved you and would no doubt ensure sex with him was nothing less than spectacular.
“Well, Mr. Peña, I’m excited for you to make an honest woman out of me.”
His head moved, hovering his lips over yours, feeling his breath as he spoke in a low husk, “I’m excited to be your husband and share my last name with you, Mrs. Peña—I love you.”
“I love you, too—kiss me,” you whispered.
He nudged his nose against yours. “As you wish, mi amor—I promise to kiss you every day for as long as I live.” He pressed his lips to yours, kissing you tenderly.
Robyn was going to give you so much shit for returning to work late…
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Javier didn’t mind Mondays when he was in Colombia.
To be honest, during his first stint trying to get Pablo Escobar, he was working so much his days blended together, and he didn’t know the date until he looked at a calendar in the office or Steve told him. As attaché, Mondays were the start of his week, and if he happened to have Sunday or the whole weekend off, he was still doing work at home and couldn’t wait to get back to the office—Monday mornings were used to plan out and go over his week’s schedule with his staff, the rest of the day he attended required meetings and when he had time, assessing where they were at in their operation and strategizing next steps.
He’d been too consumed with his job to take a break or relax over the weekend. it wasn’t something he would’ve wanted to do anyway because it’d mean he’d be alone with his thoughts, and who’d want that? Thinking about all of the mistakes he’d made, how much he fucked up and let his family down, mulling over how alone and miserable he felt—obsessing about his work meant there wasn’t time to think about those things, so Mondays were always welcome.
His life had changed since then.
Drastically.
Now, he looked forward to the weekend.
It meant a full forty-eight hours he got to spend with the most amazing woman he loved more than anything. It was forty-eight hours full of love, happiness, and contentment. He could actually relax with her, let his guard down, and just be himself.
The weekend was sacred, and he hated waking up on Monday morning, knowing he'd have to be away from his media naranja (soulmate) for at least forty hours over the next five days.
It was safe to say that Javier wasn't the jolliest of people when the alarm clock went off at the start of the week; it was such a common occurrence Cielito often compared him to Garfield, the cat.
He felt he'd done some good work since starting at the Sheriff's office a while back. The narcotics unit, he advised, had managed to do double the busts and arrests than the previous year, the DEA practically frothing at the mouth over the amount of drugs, weapons, and dirty money they’d seized. The agent in charge of their region, who he’d previously butted heads with, had even commended him on their last call. His notoriety was known enough he’d lost count of how many offers he'd gotten to do lectures and the number of agencies in Texas and across the country who had tried to poach him at most or get him to do short-term freelance consulting at minimum.
Basically, there were a lot of people who wanted to pick his brain and/or talk about his time with the DEA.
His, was it, popularity? In the drug enforcement circles and public knowledge of his efforts in Colombia had led to an interesting phenomenon, the Sheriff loved and Javier hated. Philanthropists, sometimes businesses, a lot of the times just individuals, many of whom weren’t even from the area, wanted to donate decent sums of money to the various anti-drug and addiction treatment programs the Sheriff's office and county, in general, ran with the caveat of discussing where their money was going with someone who fought in the War on Drugs.
Him.
Most of the time when he met with these 'philanthropists,' they just wanted to hear stories about Pablo Escobar and the Cali cartel that weren't reported in the mainstream media, or in other words, Javier had to schmooze.
Javier hated schmoozing.
He absolutely fucking hated all the ass kissing he had to do with higher-ups as attaché, and he sure as fuck, didn't like having to do it now with people who had more money than god and a morbid curiosity about two of the biggest, most violent cartels in recent history.
He could decline these meetings if he wanted—Sheriff Arturo told him it was completely his choice if he took them or not. Obviously, his preference would be the latter, but he cared about his community and checked into it to confirm the donations were being used as intended, so he figured it was worth an hour of his time every once in a while.
This morning, he'd been extra annoyed it was Monday because he was scheduled to meet with one of these potential donors who was from Dallas or somewhere else in the state; he wasn't actually paying attention the prior week when Joy, the Sheriff's assistant who also helped out Javier sometimes, was giving him the information due to the fact seconds before she walked into his office he'd gotten a message on his phone from his wi-fiancée that read:
Can I blow u on lunch?
And he’d needed Joy to leave so he could call Cielito to give her an emphatic yes, with the stipulation he could eat her out for his afternoon meal instead of the sandwich she made him. All that’d registered when his, kind of, assistant was talking were the date and time for the meeting he hastily scribbled down on his yellow legal pad.
Since it was the beginning of a new week and having the meeting on his agenda, he didn’t have much hope for it being a good day, and then his phone vibrated with a text message from his soon-to-be wife:
Need u bad. Lunch? ;)
See, in the week after they came home from Miami, they had an in-depth conversation about starting their family—yes, they both had already enthusiastically agreed to try for a baby, but Cielito wanted to manage his expectations and ensure he understood the statistics, risks, and tragic possibilities he didn’t even want to think about, yet needed to be aware of.
That night, he’d gotten out his mother’s rosary for the first time in a while, sat on the edge of the bathtub in the locked bathroom, and had a quiet conversation with her about how happy and ecstatic he was, along with his new fears and worries, making a tearful request for her to please watch over them. He wasn’t religious by any means and didn’t see a point in praying to some all-powerful being that possibly existed and, if so, had more serious matters in the world to attend to, but Javier knew his mom would care if she was listening, and it comforted him, thinking she was, and that she would watch over them.
Another thing his fiancée had done was try and pinpoint when they actually had a chance of conceiving, and that was how he found out she’d begun keeping track of her periods when they started dating, her reasoning:
‘I thought you didn’t want kids, so I made sure I could catch any surprises as quickly as possible to give us time to figure out what we wanted to do, then I found out you’re actually pro-kids and knew the data would come in handy when we decided to go for it, and I was right.”
She was right, she was always right, though, and had marked possible dates their chances were high on the Star Wars-themed wall calendar in the kitchen—January’s picture was a still from the first movie of Darth Vader interrogating Princess Leia in her cell on the Death Star—and Javier had been waiting for the prospective days with almost the same amount of glee as their impending nuptials.
Today was a possibility, and getting her text message and having her confirm over the phone her telling symptoms had him fist pumping with an excited ‘Yes!’ when he hung up.
His day had completely turned around, and he wasn’t even bothered about his afternoon meeting because he was on top of the world and beyond happy about the possibility of becoming a father.
He’d been vibrating with so much excitement he couldn't even focus on his work, and there were some important reports he needed to go over and create; he also had a few files on some recent busts one of the guys on the narcotics team wanted him to look over to see if Javier noticed the same things he did without disclosing what they were—he’d be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued.
Over the months he’d been with the Sheriff’s office, they’d had some leads on how the drugs were crossing the border from Mexico into Laredo, but they all ended up being dead ends. They knew what cartel was supplying; however, they didn’t know the link that was getting them into the US, and it bothered him so fucking much. Every person they caught and interrogated either wouldn’t say anything because they feared what the cartel would do or didn’t know shit, and had the same story that they got a call from an unknown number that gave them a location to pick up what was usually a vehicle with the drugs hidden inside along with their cash payment, and a destination where they needed to take it—generally, random parking lots they’d abandon the cars in. The narcotics team had attempted numerous times to get one of the traffickers to wait for their next call and report the specifics in order to conduct a sting, but once they were arrested, they were never contacted again or, in some cases, mysteriously disappeared; the assumption was they either fled to Mexico, or the sicarios got them.
It also didn't help that the town police department wasn't very forthcoming with their drug arrests and made getting their reports a pain in the ass—apparently, this only became an issue when Javier came on board as a consultant, which told him the person making their life difficult was the Laredo Police Department Chief, who also happened to be Lorraine's uncle.
That fucking family.
Since he'd been too amped to work, the time leading up to the lunch hour was spent going through the catalogs he had delivered to the office he hid in his desk drawer, containing baby stuff—clothes, toys, furniture, and making notes of the things he liked or needed to call Connie about to get her opinion.
The lunchtime quickie that ended up not being very quick was better than he ever could have imagined; it was so fucking fantastic that it easily made his top three Greatest Fucks—the other two were the sex on his birthday last month and the first time they fucked after they confessed their love on the kitchen floor—and it had him itching for the end of the workday to go home, and do it again, and probably again after that. It seemed Cielito wasn’t wrong about the probability of his dick hurting by the end of the week, and after some perspective (her gentle reminder of her sacrifices), it was something he was more than okay with—he was looking forward to it, actually.
He'd made her a cheese quesadilla and cut up some apple slices for her to take back to work and eaten his own before he left the apartment.
Javier had fussed with his clothes and hair to ensure it wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing the past hour and thought he did a pretty good job. He arrived at work ten minutes before his meeting and stopped by Joy’s desk, located outside Sheriff Arturos’s office, to get any messages he may have missed. The Sheriff was standing at his door talking to her in his uniform of a short-sleeved khaki shirt and army green pants, his gold Sheriff star badge gleaming under the overhead lights.
The older man’s dark eyes landed on him as he approached, the expression on his face turning to amusement.
“Parece que tuviste un buen almuerzo (Looks like you had a good lunch),” the Sheriff said.
His eyebrows furrowed. “¿Por qué dices eso (Why do you say that)...?”
Arturo tapped the side of his neck with his finger. “Ella te marcó (She marked you).”
Javier knew the exact spot, his hand instinctively moving to cover it. His attention went to Joy, who looked just as amused as the Sheriff. “How bad is it?” he asked her as he uncovered it.
She peered up at him through her wire-rimmed glasses, examining the spot. “She got you good, but you’ve had worse,” she answered. This was something that had happened many times before. “I can cover it up for your meeting if you want.”
He usually didn’t care about walking around with hickies on his neck—he actually loved that it broadcasted he was with someone. Unfortunately, there were some instances where he needed to look professional, and Joy would help by covering the marks with makeup Cielito had given her.
Checking his watch, the people would be arriving any minute. “There’s no time,” he sighed. “I’ll get my messages after the meeting—thank you!” He started walking to his office down the hall.
He’d made sure his desk didn’t look messy, keeping a legal pad and his pen at the ready, his suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair, and he had some program brochures in case whoever he was meeting with wanted them. He was sitting, absentmindedly thinking about what kind of flowers he’d bring home to his fiancée, leaning towards a bouquet of colorful tulips or there’d been a pink rose and lilies arrangement he saw last week he thought was really pretty, she’d like.
His desk phone rang, and he picked up the receiver, answering, “Peña.”
“Your appointment has arrived, Mr. Peña,” Joy said on the other line. “Are you ready for them?”
“Sure,” he replied. “It’s not like I have anything better to do.” There was a lot he could do instead of regaling people with stories from the worst years of his life.
“We’re on our way.” She hung up, and so did he, Javier standing up from his chair.
Joy appeared at his doorway, holding out her arm to direct the newcomers inside, as she said, “Right this way.”
Three nicely dressed people walked in, two men and a woman, Javier stepped around his desk to shake the first man’s hand—he was much older than Javier, giving him a firm handshake.
“Thank you for meeting with us, Javier,” the man said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—he had an air about him that he knew he was the richest and most important person in the room; so, snobby. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“From someone I know?” Javier figured it was an agent at the DEA.
“I believe so,” he answered. “We can talk about that in a minute—this is my wife.” He looked at the woman beside him, and Javier shook her hand. She was probably ten to fifteen years younger than her husband, dressed in clothes and jewelry that had to be worth more than he made in a year—she wasn’t smiling. It was obvious from her expression that she was disappointed in what she was seeing and unimpressed, Javier cringing when her eyes zeroed in on his neck.
This was going to go so well.
Maybe she was expecting someone older who looked more experienced?
“It’s nice to meet you,” Javier said with a polite smile. He let go of her hand. “I didn’t get either of your names?”
The man spoke, “Call us…” he paused. “John,” he finally answered, “and Jane.”
“Okay… John and Jane…?”
“Doe.”
Fake names. “So, you want to be anonymous donors…?”
It had happened before; however, in those instances, they did tell him their names and just requested they be listed as anonymous.
“Precisely—you’re a smart guy, Javier,” John said, with a smile that wasn’t sincere and the comment coming off as condescending, making Javier’s teeth clench.
“Right…”
“Well—” John clapped his hands together once. “—let’s talk business.”
There was still the other man behind them—tall, gangly, balding, probably about John’s age, wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a black suit, holding a briefcase—a lawyer if he had to guess, which wasn’t odd when there were large sums of money involved.
“I’ll take it the gentleman accompanying you is your lawyer?” he asked.
“Yes.”
They obviously weren’t going to introduce the guy to Javier, so he walked around them and held out his hand. “Hi, I’m Javi,” he said, “and you are?”
“Gerald,” he answered, shaking his hand.
He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Gerald.” Javier moved to close his office door. “Please, have a seat,” he told the room as he made his way to his desk. “Sorry, I only have two chairs, but I can have Joy bring in a third.”
He sat down in his, the couple taking seats in the two chairs in front of his desk.
“That won’t be necessary,” John said, waving away his offer. “Jerry is fine standing.”
Javier looked up at the man in question standing behind them. “Would you like a seat, Gerald?”
“I’m fine,” he answered.
Javier nodded and turned his attention to the people in front of him, who now looked annoyed because they apparently didn’t like politeness. He crossed his arms on his desk and gave them a close-lipped smile.
“So,” he started, “I was told you wanted to meet with me specifically. I’ll just say I don’t normally do these kinds of meetings, but if it helps get funding, I will. How can I help you? Would you like me to go over the programs?”
“We had some questions for you,” John replied.
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’m assuming they’re about my work in Colombia?”
“Some,” he answered.
“What university did you go to?” Jane asked.
“Texas A&M.”
“What degree?”
“Criminal justice with a minor in psychology.”
Her nose scrunched as if she smelled something bad, and John sat up straighter in his seat. “Were you really involved with taking down Pablo Escobar?” he asked.
“I helped—spent seven/eight years going after him with my partner. I wasn’t there when he died, but my partner was.”
“That’s a considerable amount of time to hunt someone. Why weren’t you there in the end?”
“I was on leave here in Laredo visiting my family.” Kind of true. “Bad timing, as you can tell.” He humorlessly chuckled.
“Right… And there was another cartel you were involved in dismantling?”
“The Cali cartel,” he answered. “They took over after Escobar.”
“Sounds like a dangerous job. Do you have to worry about their associates or the criminals you put away coming after you?”
“Not really? Many are dead, and I’ve been out of the DEA for a while, so I think if something were going to happen, it would’ve by now.”
“Your achievements are impressive.” He said it, but he didn’t look impressed. “How old are you?”
“Forty.” He felt like he was being interrogated. “Can I tell you about the county’s programs?”
“Right, right,” John said. “Money. We promise you’ll have a check. We’re just interested in learning more about The Great Javier Peña.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t say I’m great…”
“We wouldn’t either,” Jane mumbled under her breath, not looking at him.
“That’s something we can agree on,” John said so smoothly that Javier was stunned by the rudeness.
What was with these people? They requested this meeting with him and didn’t seem to like him all that much—he was pretty sure the wife hated his guts, and he had no clue what he’d done or who they were. He didn’t have to put up with this shit, no matter who they thought they were or how much they were going to donate, so he let his mask fall along with all the pleasantries.
“So, I’m doing this as a favor for the Sheriff,” Javier said. “I don’t have to talk to you people, especially with you giving me the impression you don’t even like me. I don’t want to waste your time or mine—let’s cut to the chase; how much money are you donating? And I’ll decide if it’s worth answering any more of your questions.”
His shift in demeanor had the couple looking taken aback at his audacity, like they couldn’t believe he’d speak to them in such a way.
“Is that how you talk to people who want to give you money?” Jane asked.
His eyes went to her. “It’s how I talk to people who clearly don’t like or respect me. if you want this meeting to continue, tell me how much.”
“Okay, Javier,” John said. “Is one hundred thousand enough?”
He kept his face neutral, but Javier was shocked. No one had ever donated that much.
“That’ll work,” he responded. “What do you want to know?”
“Is it true you’d pay and sleep with prostitutes to get information while in Colombia?” Jane asked.
Javier jolted as if she’d slapped him, his eyebrows creasing. “Where’d you hear that? What does that have to do with Webb County or my career?”
“It’s a question of your morals,” she answered. “Did you use women for your own personal gain?”
“One hundred thousand,” John reminded him.
Jesus Christ.
His jaw ticked, his fists clenching. He answered, “Yes.”
“Is it true you were fired from the DEA for helping a paramilitary group that killed civilians?” Jane asked.
“I only helped them get a handful of Escobar’s sicarios and told them no civilians were to be harmed.”
“It’s a yes or no question.”
He icily stared. “Yes.”
This was an interrogation.
“Were you engaged to Lorraine Smith seventeen years ago and left her the night before your wedding?”
How the fuck did they know that?
“She was trying to trap me,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
John leaned forward, staring him down. “All those deplorable things—do you actually think you’re good enough to marry our daughter?”
There it was.
Everything finally made sense.
He’d only seen a few pictures of her parents since his fiancée didn’t enjoy going through her family photo album, actively avoiding the reminders of how she’d been neglected and shunned, so he hadn’t recognized them. Now that he knew their true identities, he could see the features Cielito had gotten from each of them—eyes, mouth, chin, nose, that crinkle between her eyebrows when they pulled together—if her mother had smiled just once instead of glowering at him the entire time, he would’ve clocked who they were in ten seconds flat.
These fuckers, he knew they were up to something, and to wait and show up a week before their wedding, was fucking diabolical—obviously, they were going to pull some shit to try and stop him from marrying their daughter. A sick part of Javier wished they knew he could still smell Cielito in his mustache and had some of her dried come on his dick; he was happy the mark on his neck stood out since it showed he was with her recently.
His surprise only lasted a second as it quickly turned into burning hot anger, Javier glaring at them.
“Do I think I’m good enough for your daughter? No, but she thinks I am, and her opinion is the only one that matters,” he answered.
Jane rolled her eyes, and John sat back, crossing his arms.
“It used to be common courtesy to ask the Father for permission to marry his daughter,” the other man said.
Javier leaned back, mirroring John with his arms over his chest. “When they considered their daughters property,” he said. “Your daughter is not your property; she’s a person who can do whatever the fuck she wants without your permission—get out of here with that sexist bullshit.”
Jane scoffed.
John jutted a finger at him. “You’re not good enough for our daughter,” he said. “You’re not cut from the same cloth—she’s Cashmere, and you’re a dirty old rag. She’s better than you—she deserves better than you, and you cannot marry her. We won’t allow it. She needs to marry someone from a family of worth or a man in a profession of notoriety who makes good money, like that great surgeon she dated, Dr. Andrews. He’s made a name for himself and would’ve been a great match for her. If she marries you, people will talk, and we’ll be a laughingstock amongst our peers that our daughter was with someone so beneath her—you’d sully her name and all that we’ve built. So, here’s how this is going to go, Javier,” he spat. “We promised you a check, and you’ll get one for one hundred thousand as we agreed for you to put toward whatever menial program you wish. Then you’ll get a second check for the same amount to call off your wedding and leave our daughter. You will never speak to her again, and if she happens to be pregnant with your child—god help us—you will sever your parental rights and have nothing to do with either of them. Am I understood?”
Javier was so fucking angry he thought he was going to explode.
He figured they’d lay into him about his unworthiness to try and make him second guess being with her. He also thought they’d try threatening him with god only knows what to stop their wedding. Trying to pay him off to keep him from marrying their daughter was unexpected and unbelievably insulting. They were out of their minds thinking money would get him to leave her; they were fucking insane thinking money would get him to leave her and their child.
His ears were ringing, his blood was boiling, feeling hot and so full of rage he was seeing red.
His tone was low and menacing, “Get. The fuck. Out.”
John sighed. “Fine. two hundred fifty thousand.”
“I don’t want your fucking money.”
“Everyone has a price,” Jane said.
He looked at her with narrowed eyes, resting his arms back on the desk. “Some people don’t actually give a fuck about money, Jane. So, no, I don’t have a fucking price. You could offer me one million dollars right this second, and I’d still tell you to fuck off. You people are fucking despicable—does she even know you’re here?”
“Of course not,” John said, giving him a look like that should be obvious. “We’re here on business.”
Javier’s attention went to him. “Your daughter’s happiness is ‘business?’ Wanting to ruin our lives is ‘business?’ Do either of you have hearts, or is it purely hatred keeping you alive? You know what, I don’t fucking care—be honest with me, do you even love her?”
“Yes, of course we love her!” Jane replied. “Why do you think we’re doing this? We love her and want what’s best for her!”
“No, you want what’s best for you.” He pointed at her. “If you actually loved her, you wouldn’t be doing this because you’d care about her happiness and not your family’s image. If you loved her, you’d be happy about our marriage.” His voice rose, “If you fucking loved her, you would treat her as such and respect her life choices! You don’t fucking love her, and you never have all because she wasn’t born with a fucking penis and didn’t follow some stupid fucking career tradition! No, you don’t fucking love her!” He stood from his chair so abruptly that it rolled back to ram into a bookcase.
He took a deep breath, his heart pounding, face hot.
His voice brokered no room for argument, “So, here’s how this is going to go. I won’t tell her about this absolutely fucked up conversation and attempted bribe, and you’re going to get the fuck out of our town without another word. You will not see her before leaving, and you will never show your faces here again. If you do not follow any of these instructions, I will tell her everything, and because I genuinely love your daughter—“ He pressed a hand over his heart. “—and know her, I can tell you that you will never hear from her again, and you won’t ever meet our children. Am I understood?”
After this meeting was finished, he was rushing to Cielito’s work to tell her all that had happened—he wouldn’t keep anything from her, especially this.
“One million,” John tried.
“Stop offering me fucking money!” Javier shouted, slamming his hands onto the desk. “You can’t pay me off!” His volume lowered. “Now, are you gonna go straight home, or do I need to call your daughter, my fiancée, on speakerphone so you can tell her what’s happening?”
John looked over his shoulder at the man behind him. “Jerry, the paperwork.” He snapped his fingers.
Gerald used his knee to prop up the briefcase that he popped open. Grabbing a large manila envelope, he passed it to John, who tossed it onto the wooden surface in front of Javier.
“Sign it,” the older man ordered, pointing at it. “Standard prenup—you get divorced, you take what little you brought with you, and don’t get a single cent of our money; if you won’t be reasonable, then you’ll play by our rules. She knows she must either keep her last name or hyphenate when she marries.” Cielito had never mentioned that and planned to take his last name, which her parents definitely wouldn’t like. “The children she has with you will have hyphenated last names, ours first—which shouldn’t be a problem for you.” That was aggressive and not fucking happening with how adamant his future wife was about getting rid of her maiden name. “—and they’ll have trusts set up for them that they can access at the age of eighteen if they pursue a medical degree, if not, then they’ll have to wait until they’re twenty-five.” How fucking rich were these people? And his kids would go to school for whatever they wanted; his fiancée had told him she could afford it. “—you, Javier, are barred from touching any of the money.”
“I don’t want your fucking money, pal,” Javier rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like it matters to me, and pull your head out of your ass—we don’t give a single fuck about you enough to do any of this asinine bullshit.”
“I’m not done,” John’s words were clipped with irritation, and his face showed it. “And you’ll want to hear the rest.”
“I don’t think I do, but please, buddy, keep up this disappointing attempt to intimidate me. Just remember, I spent years with a target on my back and know what it’s like to be at the end of a loaded gun, so your words aren’t gonna do shit.”
“We expect you to visit during the holidays and act civil; that means smiling in the annual family photo.” Javier snorted at this man being so full of himself to think he could get them to play ‘one big happy family.’ “If you don’t sign, then your children will get nothing, we will write our daughter out of our wills, and she will never get any additional financial support from us outside of the money we put aside for her college education—” She had the same stipulation that unless she went to medical school, she wouldn’t have access to her college fund until she was twenty-five. “—and what her grandparents left her; our son will inherit everything.”
Well, shit.
Javier frowned. This just put him between a rock and a goddamn concrete wall of a hard place.
“I’m sure you want your children to have a head start in life,” John continued, looking smug, “so we advise you sign, right Jerry?”
“It’s a substantial amount of money,” Gerald replied. “It would be in your best interest to sign, and that’s just my unbiased opinion.”
Javier was ready to tell them to take the prenup and shove it up their asses, the problem: he couldn’t make an executive decision on Cielito’s behalf that would lose her inheritance. This was something he needed to discuss with her and figure out if she wanted him to abide by the demands—which he would, for her; he wouldn’t like it, but he’d do anything for her. Now he needed to get these assholes to leave, so he could head to the hospital and talk to her.
“Thank you for your unbiased opinion, Gerald,” Javier said. He looked at the man who’d unfortunately be his father-in-law in a week. “Have you listed all of that in here?” He poked the manila envelope.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m not gonna sign a legally binding document without having my lawyer look it over—I’m a smart guy, after all. You got a card with your fax number on it, Gerald?”
“Yes,” he answered, pulling one out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and walking around his bosses to hand it to Javier.
“Thanks. I’m going to let my lawyer determine if it really is in my best interest to agree to this, and he’ll be in touch in a couple of days—you probably won’t tell me, but where’d you hear all that shit about me?”
How people in town found out about his history with the informants has been a mystery since he never told anyone. He knew a person could find out about his involvement with Los Pepes from reading an article in a Miami newspaper, and everyone in fucking Laredo was aware of Lorraine.
John looked at him like he was stupid. “Private investigator,” he answered.
“Let me guess, he talked to Lorraine and her family?”
“No comment.”
So, that was a yes.
He sighed. “I’m really fucking curious about where he got the intel on my… relations with the women in Colombia. It had to be someone I worked with—“ He knew it wasn’t Steve. “—or who knew me down there.”
“They contacted us anonymously, so I don’t know.”
It smelled like Stechner, which, now that he was thinking about it, that fucker had been through this area before he arrived unannounced a couple of months ago, working alongside the DEA with what was going on in Mexico. He would’ve loved stirring up trouble by letting it slip about Javier’s relationships with informants.
He nodded once. “Well,” Javier started, “eating a bowl of shattered glass would’ve been more pleasant than this shitshow of a meeting. You folks really know how to make a great first impression,” he said sarcastically. “Now get the fuck out of my office and town.” He gestured toward the door. “You’re not welcome here.”
The couple got up from their chairs.
John checked the time on his Rolex, the gold watch featuring a white dial that easily cost three to four times the amount of the one on Javier’s wrist. “We need to get going anyway,” he said, “I have to be in San Francisco tomorrow for a medical conference, and I can’t miss it since I’m speaking at it—hopefully, I’ll run into Daniel. It’s always nice talking to him.”
Javier’s eyes rolled so hard he thought they might get stuck.
“We’re happy to leave this awful town,” Jane sneered. “One day, she’ll tire of you and realize the mistake she made letting you trap her here. We’ll be there when she finally comes to her senses and returns home to us.”
Javier huffed amusedly. “You’re fucking delusional, lady. You don’t even know her! She loves living here. Especially since it’s so fucking far away from you snobby fuckers.”
The woman raised her nose at him and hmph’d.
“Last chance, Javier,” John said, meeting his eyes. “One million dollars and all you have to do is disappear from her life—you’ve done it before, so do it again, and this time be compensated for it. Someone like you can easily find another woman to love.”
Javier straightened, his hands sitting on his hips, staring daggers at the other man. “I don’t want another woman,” he growled. “You’re not understanding, so let me say it nice and slow, and maybe you’ll get it: I. Love. Your. Daughter. No one else. I will never love anyone else. I love her more than life itself. I would take a bullet for her. I would die for her. I would do anything for her, like signing this fucking document—” He tapped his finger on it. “—that I don’t agree with or want to do 99% of because I love her, and I want her to be happy. She is my entire world, and just the thought of being away from her makes me sick to my stomach. So, unless she tells me to leave, I’m not going anywhere; I am spending the rest of my life with her, and there is no amount of money in the entire fucking universe that could get me to do otherwise.” He took in a big breath and slowly let it out, frowning. “From the way you can’t seem to grasp the love we have and what your daughter means to me, I’m under the impression your marriage is transactional or for appearances only—there was never any love, it was just a way to improve your social standing, or whatever stupid shit you rich people care about, but the fact of the matter is it wasn’t built on love. It’s superficial.” He looked at John. “If you went bankrupt tomorrow, she wouldn’t stay with you.” He pointed at the wife. “There’s no for richer or poorer with you two, and that’s really fucking sad. I pity you.”
The couple were scowling at him. “We don’t need your pity,” the older man said. “You know nothing about our marriage. We’ll be expecting to see the signed papers soon.”
They didn’t wait for him to respond, storming toward the door with Gerald following.
Javier sighed, pressing his fingers to his brow.
He knew eventually he’d have to meet Cielito’s parents. He had thought about what he’d say to them when he did so many times he’d lost count because Javier needed them to know how angry he was with how they’d treated the woman he loved. He needed them to know how they failed her as parents. He needed them to know how much he loved her and that he wouldn’t let them continue hurting her. He finally had his chance, and they’d made him so mad, he couldn’t remember a single fucking thing he said and hoped in his rage he got some of his points across.
They were at a crossroads now. He’d tell her what happened, every detail he could remember, and then it would be up to her—will they cut off complete contact with her family? Or would they have to abide by her parents’ demands? Javier thought he knew which way she’d choose, but money had a way of making people do things they normally wouldn’t, and from the looks of it, there was a lot of money on the line.
He sighed again. Anxiety had his stomach twisting into knots, and he was so fucking worried about what she’d choose that his chest was aching. He’d go along with whatever it was because, in the end, it was her decision, and he’d respect it, even if it was something he didn’t like and, holy shit, did Javier hate the idea of these stuck-up pricks remaining in their lives and having any kind of relationship with their future children.
There was a knock on his office door, and his hand lowered, finding Joy standing in the doorway with worry on her brow. She was a great kid who’d really gotten the hang of the job, which was her first out of college, and she was doing very well—Joy also loved Cielito and hung on her every word when they talked.
“Is everything okay, Javi?” she asked. “I heard yelling.”
“They were my in-laws, and they fucking hate me. I’ve never met them in person; hell, I’ve never even spoken to her dad on the phone, and they flew all the way here to talk to me.”
Her eyes went wide behind her glasses. “It wasn’t to congratulate you on your marriage, was it…?”
He scoffed. “No, they were trying to convince me to call it off.”
“Then why are you still here? Go to the hospital! Don’t worry about your messages.”
“I’m going,” he said, grabbing the large envelope containing the documents and moving toward the door, not even bothering to put on his suit jacket.
“You should know they left this with me.” She held up what looked to be paper as he approached, and he took it, reading what it was.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he said in disbelief. “They donated the fucking hundred grand—we didn’t even talk about the programs. How did they know who to write the check out to?” He met her eyes.
“They asked me which one was my favorite.” She shrugged. “Now, go!” She snagged the check back. “I’ll get this to where it belongs, and you go deal with what you need to—tell her hi from me.”
“I will.” He made his way out of the door. “Thank you!” he said, walking as fast as his legs could go.
Once in his truck and on his way, he’d gotten his cell phone out and speed-dialed a number.
Ring.
“Doctor’s Hospital of Laredo. How may I direct your call?”
“Robyn Thompson, post-op.”
“One moment.”
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hi, this is Robyn,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s Javi.”
“Oh, they paged me to answer the phone. Let me go get her.”
“No!” he quickly said. “I need to talk to you.”
Her tone went serious, “What’s goin’ on, Javi?”
“I’m on my way there right now and need to talk to her about something that happened. Would you be okay if I borrowed her for ten, maybe fifteen minutes?”
“Javier,” she whispered, “are you gettin’ cold feet?”
That being her first assumption stung, and it hurt worse because she knew damn well how head over heels he was for her best friend. It looked like even after all these years since his failed wedding, it didn’t matter if he was madly in love with someone and had a great relationship; people were still going to wonder if he would leave his new bride at the altar.
“What? No! Never! Not with her. Her fucking parents came to town and tried to pay me a fuckton of money to call off the wedding and leave her, I told them to fuck off, but they want me to sign a goddamn prenup with a list of demands that I need to talk to her about.”
“Her parents…? Here in Laredo…?”
“Yeah, I was pretty fucking shocked, too, then so fucking angry I can’t remember what I yelled at them.”
“She can take her break early, and I’ll cover.”
“Please don’t say anything to her.”
“Oh, this is all you.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. See you soon.”
“Bye.”
He ended the call.
The radio’s volume was down low, and the air conditioner was turned up high, Javier alone with his thoughts as he figured out how he was going to tell her about what happened—he’d tell her the truth, of course, but he didn’t want to upset her. That was the thing, though; she was going to be upset and royally pissed off.
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The patient in room three wanted some apple juice; room five was asking for pain meds, but they had an hour before they could have another dose and hated being told ‘no’ so much they wouldn’t stop hitting their call button as if each press would magically make the minutes go by faster; room one was asleep and in—you checked the time on your watch—the next forty-five minutes, an orderly was coming by to take them for a walk to exercise their new hip.
It had been a busy fucking day, and you felt awful about coming back to work a little late after lunch.
You were heading toward the storage room to get the apple juice and just put your hand on the door handle.
“Hey,” Robyn said as she walked up to you. “What are your rooms needin’?”
“Three, apple juice. Five, pain meds, but we have to wait an hour. One is asleep for now.”
She nodded. “Okay, I’m gonna take care of all that for you while you go on break.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, looking at your watch. “It’s way too early for me to take a break. I’ve got another hour, at least.”
Her smile was small, patting your arm. “You’re gonna wanna go now ‘cause Javi’s waitin’ for you over at the desk.”
Your head whipped in that direction, and sure enough, he was standing there in his charcoal-colored slacks, white dress shirt, and red-patterned tie, staring at you with big brown puppy dog eyes and a little smile—and doing a little awkward wave that was both adorable and weirdly out of character from his usual suaveness.
“Uh, why is he here?” you asked, returning his gesture with a small wave of your own. “I was just with him on lunch...”
She turned her attention to him. “Oh, look at him doin’ a lil wave,” she cooed as if she was fawning over a cute baby, waving back. “Isn’t that just adorably weird and a reason you should talk to him right now?”
“You’re really okay if I take my break?” Your face turned her way.
She met your eyes. “Girl, my two patients are passed out, and the next one isn't arrivin’ for another hour, shoo.” She shooed you away with her hands, and you went.
Javi had stopped waving as you approached him, and once you were close enough, you asked, “Is everything okay? What are you doing here?”
The look on his face wasn’t happy; he was clearly worried, and it made you nervous.
“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”
Alarm bells started going off in your head.
“Javier, is your dad okay? Did something happen to him? Or someone else in the family?”
He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing on the skin of the back of it. “Pop’s okay, Cielito—everyone in our family is okay. Take me somewhere we can talk, and I’ll explain.”
You chewed on your lip, not wanting to ask the question but needing to in order to prepare yourself. “Does this have something to do with our wedding…?” your voice was quiet.
“Baby, no,” he reassured. “Mi amor, look at me.” You did. “Us, our family, our friends, are all good—something happened at work, and I can’t talk to you on the phone about it or wait until we get home. I’ll tell you once we’re somewhere alone.”
“Okay.” You nodded, interlacing your fingers with his and leading him down the hall. For privacy’s sake, you took him to the closest on-call room, the small space containing a twin-sized bed and a desk.
The door was locked, and you moved further into the room and stopped, turning to face your fiancé.
Your eyes were on his. “What’s going on, babe?” you asked.
He took in a big lungful of air, saying as he exhaled, “Your parents came to my office today.”
What he stated was so absurd you thought you misheard him. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. It sounded like you said my parents were at your office, like physically, in person at your office, which is just absolute crazyballs because why would they come all the way here and not tell me or visit me…?”
The look on his face was so sad it made your stomach drop to your toes. He slid his hand soothingly along your bicep, up and down, over and over.
His tone was gentle. “You know how we’ve been wondering if they’re up to something?”
“Yes,” you whispered, dreading what he would say.
“They were pretending to like me and support our marriage, so you wouldn’t suspect them of having anything to do with their plan of getting me to leave you the week before our wedding....”
“What are you talking about?”
“They came to my office today to try and pay me a lot of fucking money to disappear from your life.”
Your eyes widened.
“They tried to pay you to leave me…?”
“Yes, and it made me so fucking angry that they’d do such a thing and try to frame it like they were doing it out of love and wanting what was best for you when in reality, it’s what they want—I’m still fucking pissed.” You could tell he was with how upset he was getting as he continued speaking. “I suspected if they were gonna pull some shit, it’d be trying to make me doubt I was good enough for you or threaten me with what? I don’t know, but to try and pay me off? Like our love can be fucking bought? Or to assume money would mean more to me than you?” His eyes were getting watery. “You, my fucking soulmate. I told them no amount of money could get me to leave you. It was so fucked up, and I hate them,” he seethed. “I’m sorry, baby, but I hate your fucking parents, I hate your family, and I lost my cool and yelled at them for not loving you and being so goddamn despicable.”
It took a second for you to process that your parents flew thousands of miles to try and pay Javi to break things off. You knew they didn’t approve of him, but to go so low? It had anger welling up inside you the longer you thought about it, getting madder at how upset they made your sweet, caring, loving fiancé, who you knew absolutely laid into them for trying such a heinous thing.
After your mother’s abrupt change in opinion of him, Javi and you had been suspicious of how out of character it was for her. There was a tiny bit of hope about the size of a grain of sand that she was being sincere with how she called more in the following weeks, wanting to hear about your wedding plans and find out the date. When you thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising she was just fishing for information to put together her scheme. She never had any intention of helping you when she offered to hire you a wedding planner; it was a ruse to buy her time to figure out how to stop the whole thing, and you threw a wrench in her plotting by getting married so soon.
And this was the final straw.
You’d given your family enough chances, and this time, they went too far—there was no coming back from this. They could never be trusted, and you wouldn’t let them continue treating the man you loved so horribly. This whole thing was confirmation they didn’t love you.
You reached to cradle his smooth cheeks in your hands.
“I’m so sorry, Javi. I’m sorry for what they put you through. I’m sorry for how they treated you. I’m sorry for them, and I’m done. They’ve shown me who they really are, and it’s the nail in the fucking coffin.” Tears didn’t come to your eyes, and you felt no sadness about cutting them out, probably because you’d already spent enough time mourning the loss of a relationship with them and had come to terms with it. “I’ve got you, your dad, your family, Robyn—I don’t need people full of so much hate. I’m done, it’s over. I won’t be answering any of their calls.”
His eyes closed in relief, his breath stuttering on a sob. The emotion was thick when he spoke, “I want that to be true, but there’s more…”
“What do you mean there’s more?”
He looked at you. “Your father gave us an ultimatum—I sign a prenup, and we go along with his terms, or you lose your inheritance; they’ll write you out of their wills, and our kids won’t get any money. They said all you’d have is your college fund and what your grandparents left you.” He held up a large manila envelope. “You can read everything he’ll require us to do, and I’ll sign if that's what you want.”
“Wait, let me guess his terms.”
He looked confused. “What?”
“Did he say I had to keep my maiden name?”
“Yes… or hyphenate it.”
You huffed out a breath. “Typical. God, did he say the shit about our children having my last name first? Which I know you have your dad and mom’s last names, but that’s how it’s ordered: your dad's, then mom’s; it’d be weird if we did mine first.”
“He did…”
“Yeah, I’d prefer our kids just being Peñas. Um, what else? Oh! Was there anything about our babies getting money for medical school?”
“Trusts… They can access at eighteen for medical school, twenty-five if not.”
“Figures.” Your eyes rolled. “Didn’t get access to any of my money until I was twenty-five.”
His free hand caressed your face, his expression still pinched in confusion. “Cielito, what is happening right now? Why aren’t you upset?”
Your eyebrows dipped. “Why would I be upset…? You’re not signing that.” You pointed at the packet. “I don’t want their money. Do you want their money?”
“What? No. I told your father exactly how much I didn’t want his fucking money. I’m not quite getting why you aren’t more upset about no longer speaking to them…”
“Oh! This is probably hard for you to understand because your parents love you unconditionally and are, in general, fantastic people. See, my parents’ love is conditional, which you’re holding proof of, and when you spend the first eighteen years of your life trying to live up to impossible standards for the tiniest scrap of affection, you kinda develop a lot of resentment toward the ones who are supposed to love you no matter what.
“Then there’s the way they think they can dictate my life choices as an adult,” you continued, “and only call me so often to keep tabs on what I’m up to in order to ensure I’m not doing anything that would embarrass them or bring shame to the family name—they’re fucking ridiculous about their traditions and keeping up appearances that their family is perfect.
“So, sure, I love them,” you told him, “but I’ve been tired of their bullshit for a while now and have been clear about my boundaries; plus, they knew they were on thin ice, and Javi, every time I’ve told you I’d choose you over them, I meant it.” You swiped his bangs off his forehead. “Your love is unconditional, and you genuinely love me; what’s better than that? And that’s why I don’t have any issues cutting them out of our lives and don’t care about losing my inheritance.
“You’ve seen firsthand how toxic they are,” you said, “and I won’t have them around us or our children. Our happiness is more important than keeping shitty people in our lives for money, and babe, believe me when I say we don’t need their money.”
His eyes were searching yours. “Are you sure?”
You smiled. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t—yes, Javier, I’m sure, I’m more than sure. You are what matters to me. You and our future babies are what matter to me.” You took the envelope from his hand and looked around the room, finding the small garbage can over by the door. “Swoosh!” you called out and tossed the documents toward it.
—them landing on the floor beside the trash with a thud.
“There goes my NBA career,” you mumbled.
A surprised sound left you when lips crushed against yours hard, Javi’s big, warm hands holding your face—there was a second delay before you started kissing him back just as fervently with your eyes closed, your fingers threading into the soft, thick strands of his hair, pressing your body into his as close as you could get without crawling into his skin.
His palm slid down your back to grab a handful of your ass, his tongue slipping between your lips to massage your own.
Javier could be an imposing figure with the broadness of his shoulders, his wide chest, and tall stature. He had a way of making you feel delicate and safe when he caged you in his arms, something ancient in the back of your mind repeating, 'Protector, protector, protector...' and purring happily.
He could easily get you to move where he wanted, and he walked you back until your legs hit the side of the bed. In the blink of an eye, he had your spine to the mattress with him on top of you, the kissing getting frantic.
"I love you," his sentence muffled against your mouth. "I love you—I need... I need." He sounded desperate, unable to articulate what he wanted, but if you thought about what he went through that day—the excitement of actually trying for the baby, the rage at meeting your parents, the worry at what you'd choose—he felt a lot of big emotions, and you knew his way of coping when he got overwhelmed was losing himself in another person's body.
He needed you.
His hips were cradled in your thighs, feeling him hardening.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. Today, however, there were a couple of issues, the big one being that you were at your place of employment, and the second was you didn’t have time—Robyn was already doing you a solid by covering, and it’d be rude to go over your allotted fifteen minutes of break time.
Javi needed you, though, and you wanted to make him feel better.
With a quick glance at your watch, you had seven minutes to work with, a plan quickly forming in your head.
It wasn’t hard to get him to roll you both to have you on top of him, straddling his hips and shoving his arms above his head, where you held them down. Your mouths were fused together, the kiss becoming needy and hungry, your lips slick, and your tongues moving together with practiced familiarity. With a roll of your hips, you ground yourself against his hardened cock, heat zipping through your belly at the broken whine he made, which only encouraged you to keep going, continuing to grind, rubbing your pussy along his thick shaft.
He wanted to touch you, making an attempt to get his hands out of your hold, but you kept them firmly in place. You spoke quietly into his lips, “You gonna be a good boy and let me make you feel good?” He groaned, his entire body shivering under you.
His length was between the lips of your clothed cunt, grinding yourself against it, the friction to your clit causing sparks to dance in your core. "You gonna come for me?" you asked, keeping your voice low and nipping at his bottom lip, kissing him again, rough sounds rumbling from his chest.
Your mouth broke away from his, pressing your foreheads together. "You gonna think about how I still have you inside me?" you murmured, not slowing your movements, sliding your pussy over him repeatedly.
Occasionally, there were voices or the wheels of hospital beds rolling outside the room’s door as people passed by. Inside, where you and Javier were alone, the sounds filling the air were the mattress springs softly squeaking, his breathy moans, and your panted breaths.
"You gonna think about how you might've gotten me pregnant today?" you asked. That got you a groan and him bucking his hips.
"You gonna think about how you’ll fill me again when we get home? How you're gonna keep me all nice and stuffed so I have your baby in nine months?" A desperate sound left him, and he started thrusting up into you while you kept grinding.
"You gonna think about what I'll look like knocked up with your baby? The big belly and swollen tits? You like that my boobs are gonna get bigger, don't you?" You were reveling in his whimpers and moans, knowing you had him. "Have you imagined what I'll look like riding you when I'm pregnant?"
“Yes,” he answered breathlessly. His hands broke free, pawing at your body and zeroing in on your breasts with the enthusiasm of a man who just got home from war. “Get so fucking hard imagining it.” His fingers dug into your waist as he helped you move faster and pressed you harder against him.
“Are you gonna come thinking about it?”
The question made him gasp out, “Yes.”
You knew he was close when his breaths got shaky.
“Come for me, Javi,” you said. “Come on. Let go.”
Your mouth descended on his, the kiss sloppy and more of a mash of lips to quiet his sounds. He suddenly went still and stiffened with a choked whine, feeling his dick under you pulsing as he fell apart, your movements stopping. It was quiet in the room, save for the heavy breaths. Your mouth left his to kiss his chin, then both of his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and finally, his forehead. You admired his pretty face with his closed eyes, and his reddened lips turned up in the cutest smile you couldn’t help but kiss.
His breathing started to even out. “How are you feeling?” you asked. Checking your watch to see you still had two minutes remaining.
“Better,” he whispered.
“Good.” The bed complained as you got off of him and it, taking a couple of steps to grab the box of tissues from the desk. “You’ll probably want to clean up the mess in your pants,” you said, setting them on the mattress beside him. “Sorry about that.”
“Liar,” he replied, blinking his eyes open all cat-like and turning his head to look at you.
You smiled. “I mean, it’s very hot, and I’m proud of myself. I wish I could stay longer, but I need to get back to work.” Bending down, you quickly pecked him on the lips before straightening. “Bye.”
You started to walk away, and his arm shot out to grab your hand. “Wait,” he said.
Meeting his gaze, you asked, “Yeah?”
His eyes had gone round, and he was looking at you like you hung the moon or painted the sky with stars; there was so much awe and love in his expression that it stole your breath and made you feel as though you were all that mattered to him, and wasn’t that the truth? It was hard to believe that someone loved you so completely and would do anything for you, knowing that had you said you wanted your inheritance, he would’ve gone along with all the shit that came with it—he would’ve hated it a lot, but Javi still would’ve done it for you because he loved you. He loved you more than any other person or thing on the planet, and when you had kids, he’d love them just as much, and that thrilled you.
You knew what he would say before the words left his mouth.
“I love you,” you said at the same time, and he smiled so big it made his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“What am I gonna say next?” he asked.
“Well, you had a day, and now you’re ridiculously happy about never having to deal with the people I’m related to again; add in that you just came and have all those love chemicals floating around in your body, you’re gonna wax poetic about how much you love me very beautifully and probably in Spanish because you tend to reset to your original programming and speak in your first language when you’re extremely lost in the sauce or come really hard.”
He huffed out an amused breath. “Smartass.”
“But am I right?”
“Yes.”
“Then lay it on me.”
“I don’t want to now—you already know what I was gonna say.”
“Okay, then I’m heading back to work,” you said, calling his bluff.
He frowned and squeezed your hand. “Wait, don’t go yet.”
“What’s up?”
“Te amo (I love you),” he replied. “Te amo tanto (I love you so much).”
“Yo sé y yo también te amo (I know and I love you, too).”
“No, cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que solo te amaré a ti por toda la eternidad (No, when I say I love you, it’s a promise that I will only love you for all eternity). Cuando digo que te amo, es una promesa de que sólo tú tendrás mi devoción completa (When I say I love you, it’s a promise that only you have my complete devotion). Cuando digo que te amo, las palabras vienen de lo más profundo de mi alma, donde has llenado la parte que me faltaba (When I say I love you, the words are coming from the depths of my soul where you’ve filled in the missing part of me). Cuando digo que te amo, lo siento en cada célula de mi cuerpo (When I say I love you, I feel it in every cell of my body). Cuando digo que te amo, lo digo en serio: te amo y siempre te amaré hasta el fin de los tiempos (When I say I love you, I mean it: I love you, and I’ll always love you until the end of time). Te amo, Cielito (I love you, Cielito).”
He had your eyes feeling a little misty at what he said and how it was apparent he meant every word.
“God, I love you,” you told him, “and I hate that I can’t articulate how much I love you as poetically as you do—just know I love you as much as you love me, and I’m yours forever, and I mean forever. Let me kiss you, and then I really have to go. I’ll lock the door on my way out so you can clean up.”
“Baby, I don’t need you to say sappy bullshit for me to know how fucking much you love me.” He brought your hand to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “I feel it in all the things you do for me. Like throwing away the prenup and knowing I was fucked up about everything today and making me cream my pants like an inexperienced teenager getting his dick touched for the first time to make me feel better. I know you love me, and that’s why I’m marrying you next week and am so fucking excited to start a family with you.”
“Oh, Javi,” you gasped. “You creamed your pants like a besotted grown man getting his dick touched by the woman he’s madly in love with—I’m being honest when I say it’s romantic and very hot.”
He chuckled, pulling you closer by the arm, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, hoping he felt it in your kiss, the all-consuming love you had for him.
“You are the woman I’m madly in love with,” he murmured into your mouth.
“And you’re the man, I’m madly in love with,” came your muffled reply.
There were a lot of ways your life could’ve turned out and many paths you could’ve chosen. What you knew for certain was they all would’ve led you to him. Mistakes weren’t mistakes, all of your choices were right, even if they were wrong, and it didn’t matter where you lived in the past or all of the people you’d met over the years; the invisible string tying you together would’ve somehow, some way pulled you to him in that grocery store on that hot summer day because it was the perfect moment in both of your lives to find one another—you were two lost souls who finally found what you’d been missing: each other.
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kishibe-kisser · 6 months
Text
Car Sex (Aoi Todo, Sukuna, Toji Fushiguro) pt 2
pt. 1 (Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, Mahito)
Tags: Todo x gn!neutral, neck kisses, riding, scratching, Sukuna x gn!reader, choking, fingering, public, slight voyerism, Toji x gn!reader, road head (dont do that tho stay safe), handjob
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Aoi Todo: Todo was big, intimidating, scary to some even, especially at first glance. However anyone that got to know him longer than 2 minutes could see that he was a giant softy. Though he liked to reserve that side of himself for you, always going out of his way to put together amazing dates, dates that would most definitely surprise his peers.
The back of his car was decked out in blankets and pillows, making a small cozy bed area for you both to lay down and watch a movie. You were in total disbelief, even as you laid there in his arms, watching a movie. "You're so sweet." You mumbled, placing a kiss at the base of his neck as you wrapped yourself around him further. Todo tensed up, feeling his cheeks heat up at your kiss. You just wanted to thank him, for always treating you so well.
Kissing his neck again, your lips lingered sucking the skin softly to leave a mark. "Keep doing that and I won't be able to stay sweet." He grumbled and you smiled against his skin. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips for an intense kiss. His tongue slipping into your mouth as he pulled you into his lap with one arm.
The movie continued to play as he ridded you of your clothes, leaning back in the car so that you could straddle his waist and sink down onto him. Todo was just so big, in every way that he took up most of the space in car, this was the most comfortable way for you both to get off.
His hand gripping your ass as you bounced on his cock, his groans being slightly muffled by the way he had his face burried into your neck. Your nails scratched at his shoulders to hold onto something, your thighs burning from the cramped position and riding him but it all hurt so good. You were absolutely overwhelmed.
"This is why I treat you well baby, you're always so greatfull."
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Sukuna: You weren't entirely sure what he had planned when he asked you to drive to the parking garage. Undoubtedly something sinister, but you didn't have the heart to ask. So you simply listened to his command, parking on the 2nd floor looking out over the city.
"You'll do anything I say, won't you?" Sukuna asked, reaching over from the passenger seat to hold your chin. While you hated to admit, he wasn't wrong and it was harder to tell him that when he was looking at you like that. "Yes." You sighed, feeling his thumb run over your lip and dip into your mouth. "Good, push the seat back." You did as you were told and looked at him. "Now let me slide behind you." He added on, and you lifted your ass off the seat to let him sit behind you.
He had you in his lap, undoing your pants with one hand while the other crept under your shirt. His tongue traced over the side of your neck and you couldn't help fidgeting. "Stay still." He grumbled, hand finding your throat as the other ghosted over your core.
"Why'd we come here?" You choked out, moaning as his fingers teased you. Sukuna chuckled, tightening the grip on your throat as he plunged his fingers into you. "Just because." He started, pace picking up as you gasped for air. You looked at him through the rear view mirror, taking note of your own expression and how pleased he looked with the situation.
"Just because?" You moaned out, your voice getting louder the closer you got. Sukuna laughed again, feeling you tighten around his fingers and hearing your voice get louder.
"Just because I like thinking anyone can walk past and see you all fucked out because of me."
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Toji Fushiguro: God damn traffic jams, Toji absolutely hated them. They costed money, drained gas and wasted time, time he might've had, but they were annoying none the less. Especially when you were sitting there looking as good as you did, Toji was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were turning white.
"What's got you so stressed?" You asked, stroking his forearm gently. It felt like all of his sense were heightened and the touches lit a fire in his lower stomach. "Because I keep thinking about your pretty lips wrapped around my cock." He barked, anger jumping out of the situation. "And this fucking traffic jam is keeping that from happening." He added on and you had to stifle a laugh.
"Bold of you to assume I was going to do it anyways." You teased and he shot you a look that made goosebumps coat your body. "Anyways, who says that the traffic jam is stopping me?" You added on, reaching over to undo his pants.
He was painfully hard already, just thinking about it and gripping the wheel even harder. "You're gonna suck me dick like this?" He asked and you smiled, pulling his cock out of his pants and jerking him off slowly. Toji's head fell back for a moment, not noticing the cars in front of him starting to drive again causing the car behind you to honk.
He groaned again, starting to drive as you leaned over and took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling over his head as the car stopped again. "Fuck that feels good." He praised, reaching down to grab your hair. You stopped him, smiling while you placed his hand back on the wheel.
"Nuh uh mister. You keep your eyes on the road and hands on the wheel."
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starb3rrys · 8 months
Note
ARARRARAR hello :D this is my very first time requesting anything to literally anyone so please forgive me for any misunderstandings <//3.
But first!!! I just wanted to say that I've seen your works and I think your writing style is sooo cool! :3 I like your writing style a lot!!!!<3 you seem a bit underated from what I see and I think you need more recognition!!!
Anyway, my request! So I'm wondering if it's alright to request some sleeping together headcanons (like, literal sleeping, no sex or anything D:) with Tecchou, Sigma, and anyone else you wanna add if you want to! Gender neutral reader please :D.
Sorry for bothering you! Feel free to ignore this request if you do not seem to feel so inclined of writing this one<3 But if you do, please be sure to take your time and no need for rush :D! Make sure to care for yourself and don't overwork yourself! You matter a lot and I appreciate you for even the little things you do, dear<3!
-Lots of love, [anonymous]<3.
Oh my god- thank you!! I really appreciate all the love and support, I hope you’re having a wonderful day/night and please enjoy these special head-cannons just for you! <3 (Anonymous plz marry me- were long lost soulmates/j) (≧◡≦)
(Slight sex joke on Nikolai’s- im sorry.) ♡
✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮
When Night Falls
Ft. Sigma, Tecchou, Nikolai, Ranpo
✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮
Sigma
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I am not biased i swear- BUT LIKE SIGMA IS THE BEST ONE TO SLEEP WITH.
To be completely honest, the first time you two shared a bed he was a bit nervous to do so.
When you first cuddled close to Sigma he felt surprised but his instincts quickly kicked in and he wrapped his arms around you as well.
He felt at ease when you two first embraced each other, he felt safe… he felt at home.
As he is the manager of the sky casino, he tends to stay up really late…up until the early hours of the morning; usually around 3am, you sense someone slowly crawl into bed next to you, carefully slipping under the covers, you feel soft slender hands wrap around your body with a soft tired sigh as he attempts to not wake you up.
On most nights, you’d find yourself entangled in sigmas arms, your leg comfortably laid over his as sigma’s soft unconscious head rests on your chest.
Your body warmth combined with his makes for the perfect cozy blanket to protect yourself from the often cold temperatures of the grand sky casino.
Unfortunately, as much as his hair is long and luscious, it does tend to tickle your face or you accidentally lay on it.
(You once woke up with some of his hair in your mouth-).
So to avoid this issue, he tends to sleep with a bun or just a small braid, for your sake.
“How does my bun look?”
“It looks good! But Sigma, are you sure it doesn’t hurt keeping your hair tied up when you sleep?”
“No not really, plus it’s either this or you accidentally eat my hair while we sleep”
“…Touché-“
Tecchou
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Let me start off by saying- Tecchou is so quiet and still when he sleeps, i kid you not he does not move an inch like- sir are you alive?.
(If you ask him why he’s always so still and quiet, he’ll respond with “Being able to stay still and quiet even during slumber is good for training to stay quiet when enemies attack, keeping inner peace is a maj-“ *Proceeds to rant*).
Tecchou isn’t overly clingy, he wants to respect your boundaries and tends to give you your own space.
But of course, he would never deny you cuddles if you do so kindly ask.
He doesn’t have a preference per say when it comes to cuddling or holding each other; he can be the one cuddling or the one being cuddled, really doesn’t mind either.
Tecchou will softly wrap his toned arms around your body, his hands are rough from all of his sword training and battles but he makes sure to move his hands with a gentle pace as he soothes your back.
If he is big spooning you, he has a habit of nuzzling his face into your shoulder, you can feel his warm and soft breath against your skin.
He also likes to be held by you, he finds peace and warmth in your arms after a long stressful day at work.
Surprisingly he doesn’t snore at all, his breaths are always soft and quiet.
Every night before bed, Tecchou drinks this sort of strong tea that he mixes with some spices, every night is a new mix.
(May god forbid he offers you some-)
“Tecchou…uhm, why are you drinking green tea mixed with coffee…”
“It helps build a stronger immune system.”
“Oh…interesting..-“
“Would you like to try some?”
“No thank you.”
Nikolai
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Sleeping with Nikolai is Definitely an-…Experience-
I kid you not don’t even be surprised if you wake up on the floor with NIkolai spread out like a starfish on the bed, snoring like a jolly green giant as a snot bubble grows and shrinks as he drools.
Definitely starts random pillow fights in the middle of the night.
All jokes aside, Nikolai is definitely big on cuddles, he mostly big spoons but enjoys being the little spoon as well.
A cuddling position he really enjoys is when you lay on top of him like a weighted blanket as he sleeps comfortably.
Nikolai just likes being able to hold you or be held by you, he doesn’t mind as long as you two are close.
When he’s unable to sleep, he tends to play with your hair and sometimes makes little braids and such.
He radiates heat like a dang heater…like- your body gets so warm to the point it sometimes gets uncomfortable.
It doesn’t help that he sleeps with many covers and blankets.
If you try to move away, Nikolai will whine and pout like a 5 year old.
“Nikolai, IT IS TOO DARN HOT FOR YOU TO BE CUDDLING ME LIKE THIS- PLUS THESE DUMBASS BLANKETS YOU GOT FROM COSTCO”
“THEY WERE BUY 2 GET 1 FREE! NOW QUIT MOVING AND LET ME CUDDLE YOU! I WONT LET SOME HEAT STOP US! THIS IS FOR FREEDOM! FREEDOM!”
“Im gonna get a heat stroke.”
“How about you stroke this d-“ *Gets hit with a pillow*
Ranpo
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Sleeping with Ranpo can really go two ways, “Messy/ takes up the whole bed” or “Peaceful cuddle session”.
For example; on some nights, it starts off with you two peacefully holding eachother.
Yet by the next morning, your head would be half off the bed as Ranpo’s head rests on his own pillow, his leg would be over your stomach as loud snores fill the room.
All the pillows, except for Ranpo’s, are on the floor while the covers half cover your sleeping body and favor Ranpo’s.
(He will literally fight you for the blankets- definitely bit you once).
But on some nights (usually nights where Ranpo solved a case), it can be more peaceful and loving.
Ranpo curls up in a small ball as you two lay in bed, he clings on to your side like a small Koala.
You play with his hair as he starts to drift off to sleep, you softly praise him for his hard work that day and how good of a job he did.
He falls asleep with a small smile decorating his face.
If you bring up his clinginess the next morning he will act so offended and say it’s absurd and just deny deny deny.
“You looked so adorable clinging on to me as you fell asleep last night, Ranpo…”
“HUH?!- I WOULD NEVER THATS-“
“Don’t deny it Ranpo…we both know it happened”
“PFFT- Of course not, why would I, the world’s greatest detective cling on to someone as lowly as you”
“…You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.“
✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮꙳ 𓂃 𓂂𓏸✮
Love these pooksters with all my heart
But I definitely have clear favorites- *Cough* Sigma *Cough*
Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed these head-cannons, and as always feel free to request anything you’d like to see!
And as always, Love y’all! <3
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steinfellds · 9 months
Text
Don't Trust Strangers
Pairing: Dark!WandaNat x Fem!Reader
Summary: You always felt like your neighbour, Wanda was always too nice to be true.
Warnings: mommy kink, daddy kink, dub-con, kidnapping, head (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), mentions of strap-on sex, slapping, emotional abuse, teasing, finger sucking, exhibitionism 
1.3k Words
a/n: yeah..not too proud with this one either but idc enough to fix it
/ masterlist / / w.n masterlist /
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"How hard is it to fucking behave?" You don't even notice that Natasha slapped you until you heard the loud crack.
Your eyes immediately fill with tears and you bring your hand up to soothe your cheek. You can tell that your cheek is going to bruise by the throbbing pain.
"I give you everything and this is how you repay me?" Natasha yells, stepping further towards you and cornering you into a wall, "This is the 5th time you've tried to escape this month."
You're quiet. You're always quiet whenever Natasha yells at you.
"You know what?" Natasha grabs a handful of your hair, dragging you towards the front door, "You wanna leave so badly, huh? Get out."
Your heart drops as Natasha throws you out into the cold night, slamming the door behind you and locking it. Immediately, you start banging on the door, begging her to let you back inside.
"Natasha, please! I'm sorry." You cry, your fist starting to ache, "I'll be good, I promise."
After 10 minutes of begging and banging on the door, you realise that Wanda wasn't going to let you back in. She doesn't love you anymore. Your heart breaks at that realisation.
You pick yourself off the floor and walk away from the door, travelling down the rows of apartments. You pause when you hear a door open in front of you, revealing a woman with brown hair. She’s wearing a nightgown and looks like she was about to sleep.
"You okay, detka?" She asks kindly, concern written all over her face.
You feel comfort in her words as Natasha always calls you 'detka'. You don't know what language it is, but you love hearing it.
Your face must be stained in tears because the moment you close enough to her, the woman wraps her arms around you, tightly hugging you and kissing the top of your head.
"Do you wanna stay with me tonight?" She offers.
With a simple nod from you, she leads you into her apartment. Her apartment is cozy. There are lit candles and shelves filled with many books. The woman leads you over to the couch, giving you a blanket and a pillow.
"My name is Wanda." She introduces herself.
As she introduces herself, you realise that you're in a stranger's house without the protection of Wanda and start to panic. You feel helpless and vulnerable without Natasha.
"Y/n, breathe, it's okay." You don't even notice that Wanda somehow knows your name in your panicked state.
"I-I don't know you." You mumble, shuffling away from Wanda. Wanda crouches down in front of you, her hands coming up to rest on her knees, keeping you in place and unable to move away from her.
"You're safe with me, Y/n." Wanda's face is soft and her words are convincing. Wanda looks behind you and stands up, "Do you like to read?"
You nod your head, watching her pull a book from her bookshelf. She places it in your lap and you hesitantly pick it up.
"Read aloud for me," Wanda says, returning to her original place. You open the book and start to read the first page confidently. You've always been a good reader. Suddenly, Wanda grabs onto your thighs, pulling you closer to her and spreading them apart. You let out a squeal and immediately try to close your thighs, but Wanda's too strong. "Keep reading, detka." She demands, her fingers slowly moving up to your clit, rubbing soft circles over the fabric.
You start to protest, "My mo- my girlfriend says only she can touch me there." Your face heats up at your slip-up, praying that Wanda wouldn't notice.
"Your mommy says it's okay," Wanda smirks at your blushing face.
You start to question what Wanda means but are unable to get a word out as Wanda pushes your panties to the side and roughly pushes her fingers into you, curling them and pumping them into you.
You drop the book and cover your mouth with your hand, muffing your loud moans.
Wanda pulls your hand away with her free hand and puts the book back into your hands.
"Read," Wanda demands, her thumb coming up and rubbing your clit. You let out a whimper and start to read the book again. Your words are shaky and whiny, and you can't control the deep blush that flushes across your face as Wanda starts to tease you.
"Awe, baby, can't you read? You really are a dumb little baby, aren't you? You just need your mommy and daddy to look after you."
You shake your head, trying to deny words that you both know are true.
"You couldn't even wait 20 minutes, Wanda? How pathetic." Natasha's voice makes you pause and look over at the front door with wide eyes. You didn't even hear her come in.
As Natasha starts to move closer, you start to feel very exposed and try to close your thighs around Wanda's hand. Natasha tsks at you and Wanda forces your thighs back apart.
"Dumb little girl, you couldn't even control yourself from letting another woman touch you?"
You start to deny her words, trying to explain how you told Wanda that she couldn't touch you but Wanda curls her fingers, hitting the spot that immediately makes you see stars. Your back arches and you let out a whiny moan as you cum around her fingers.
Natasha grabs Wanda's hair and pulls her into a kiss. Wanda moans softly and you can feel yourself getting even wetter by the second.
"Nat-" Wanda moans out, her breathing laboured as the other woman starts to play with her tits through her shirt, tugging and pinching the nipple between her fingers.
You whine loudly, disliking the sudden lack of attention.
Natasha pulls away from Wanda with a laugh. She likes to hear how desperate you get.
"Make her feel good, Wands." Natasha helps the younger girl back onto her knees before turning her attention back to you. "And keep reading, baby."
You obediently pick up the book and start to read again. Wanda pushes your panties back to the side and easily slips her fingers into you. Her mouth wraps around your clit, and you moan, grabbing her hair and pulling her closer to you.
Your attention is quickly pulled over to Natasha when she moans loudly. She's sitting on the couch across from you with her hands in her pants, getting off at the sight in front of her.
"Don't stop reading, Y/n." Natasha's voice is surprisingly strong and steady compared to her flustered state.
You shake your head, letting the book slide out of your hands as your head drops forward, "I'm gonna cum, daddy." You warn, your fingers digging into the couch to steady yourself.
Wanda immediately pulls away from you, her lips shining with your slick as she looks back at you with blown-out pupils. You want to whine about her ruining your orgasm, but you know better.
Natasha's orgasm quickly washes over her. Her moan is silent and she continues to stimulate her clit until she's too sensitive.
"Come here, Wanda." Natasha holds her fingers out to Wanda, grinning when the girl wraps her mouth around them, sucking them clean.
"Such a good girl," Natasha mutters and Wanda blushes at the praise.
Natasha finally turns her attention to you. Your eyes are filled with tears threatening to fall over.
"Awe, poor baby. Did you want to cum?" Natasha softly grabs onto your chin, making you look up at her.
You nod, letting the tears fall down your cheeks.
"Too bad." Natasha lightly slaps your cheek before undressing herself and Wanda, revealing your favourite strap.
"Let's show her what good girls miss out on, hm?"
557 notes · View notes
bobawitch · 4 months
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Birthday Wishes | M.S
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a/n: just a little fluffy situation where reader thinks her bday will go unnoticed but matt plans a little date
cw: some mild angst/abandonment issues, fluff
wc: 883
Birthdays were never an anticipated event for you. Most of your birthdays sucked in full honesty. Like your 15th birthday, sitting with your friends when you heard a loud slam. You quickly ran downstairs, your friends standing at the edge of the stairs to gather the situation. You were met with the sight of your mother in tears, soon you heard the engine of your step dad's truck pulling out and leaving. Safe to say that birthday was assuredly ruined. That was only the tip of the shitty birthday iceberg, honestly you barely even celebrate it anymore. Sometimes you’ll get a free drink or two from a bar or cafe but never a party. That brings you to today, your 21’st birthday. You had gotten a free coffee from Starbucks and now you had settled into your couch and put on a movie. The sky had grown dark and you were cozied in a blanket with one of your boyfriend’s hoodies. And speaking of your boyfriend your phone buzzed. You picked up the phone and paused your movie before speaking. “Hey Matt, what’s up babe?” “Come outside we’re going on a trip.” “Hm? Matt I’m in sweats I-” “Don’t worry, you don't need to be dressed up for this.” You sighed, he had that kind of tone that you knew if you didn’t come outside he’d march in and bring you out on his shoulder.
With this in mind you put on the smallest amount of makeup and changed into a better hoodie before walking outside. There stood Matt Sturniolo, your boyfriend of 8 months. You smiled and walked up to him and hugged him. He huffed out a laugh before wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing. “Hey babydoll. You look cute.” You smiled, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks love, you look as handsome as ever.” He chuckled and patted your head before grabbing your hand. “Ok ok come on, I have a surprise for you.” He spoke softly as he walked you to the car, opening the door for you like he always did. “Ooo, I’m excited. Random surprises all for me.” Matt smiled as he began to drive. Overall it was a pretty calm drive, Matt had a few moments of brief road rage before calming down. Soon the two of you were in an empty field outside of the city. 
“Y’know Matt this is a really good place to kill me haha.” You joked before turning to him. “Maybe that’s what I’m doing. You’d never see it coming.” You laughed at Matt’s comment before stepping out of the car and looking around. Matt followed you out of the car before walking to the trunk of the car and pulling out a big blanket and a basket filled with food? You looked over at Matt and he smiled. “Happy Birthday babydoll.” Your face quickly blossomed into a dark blush and you felt tears pricking your eyes. You moved over to your boyfriend and quickly hugged him, letting a few tears fall down your cheeks. You grasped onto his hoodie tightly and let happy tears stream down your face. “Thank you..” You mumbled into his chest before he pulled you off him. “Of course baby. You deserve to be celebrated.” He then grabbed your hand and pulled you out in front of the car. He laid down the blanket and set the basket down. It was filled to the brim with all of your favorite snacks and even your favorite soda. You sat down on the blanket and basically tackled Matt to the ground, laying on top of him and peppering kisses all over his face.
“What’d I do to deserve you.” You mumbled between frantic kisses. Matt giggled, gripping onto your hips as you cuddled into him. “Ok ok ok baby baby I brought you out here to stargaze not be attacked.” You flicked his nose at that comment before resting your head against his chest. “This is perfect, I love it.” Slowly you rolled over so you could look up at the sky. Matt wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to his side. You moved to grab a bag of chips, opening them and offering some to Matt. You both sat in near silence before you set the chips down and looked up at Matt. “I thought you forgot about my birthday.” Matt quickly turned his head to you, shock edged deep in his gentle features. “What? Baby I would never forget your birthday. I put it on my next 3 calendars the second you told me.” Something about his words just healed a part of your heart. You pulled Matt in by his cheek, pressing your lips to his in a deep passionate kiss. Matt kissed back, shifting to hold you closer to him. When he finally pulled back he stared into your eyes, tucking some stray hair away from your face. “I love you so much Y/N, happy birthday my love.” You smiled and pushed your fingers into his hair pulling him back into another kiss. “I love you too Matthew.” You pressed another kiss to his cheek before laying down again. “This is the best birthday ever.” “Only the best for my girl.”
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sister-lucifer · 4 months
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Spring & a Storm
Tim Wright/Masky x Gender Neutral Reader 
READ PART TWO HERE
Genre: Fluff, not explicitly romantic
Summary: It’s been raining all day, and you and Tim are stuck inside the cabin together. You can’t sleep because of the thunder, and decide to see if Tim can help you out. 
Content/Warnings: None really. Brief mentions of alcohol, uh…if you can think of anything else let me know! This is pretty damn soft, but actually not explicitly romantic.
Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!
Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 
Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)
Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!
You don’t really notice the sound of the rain against the windows anymore. It’s been raining nonstop since, what, 7 AM this morning? Its not quite storming, at least not yet, but everything is soaked, and you can hardly even walk out onto the patio without your shoes filling with water. It’s dreary, sure, but not exactly unpleasant. It’s a good day to stay in, that’s all. 
You shift your sitting position a bit, wrapping one of the woven blankets from the back of the couch around your shoulders as you gaze out the window. You’re not really expecting to see anything, it’s just trees and trees for miles around, but you always seem to find yourself gazing out into the endless pines. You only turn away when you hear Tim sit down in the recliner, sighing lazily as he puts his feet up. This is a sight you’ve seen many times: A few strands of hair falling between his eyes, an old flannel half unbuttoned over a stained white tank, a beer can in one hand and a nearly finished cigarette in the other. It’s practically Tim’s natural state.
He takes one last drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out in the ash tray he keeps on the end table, chasing the smoke with a sip of his beer before that, too, is set aside. He glances out the window, whistling softly. 
“Ain’t nobody goin’ out in that weather,” He drawls, “Nobody with half a mind, anyhow.”
You nod in agreement, taking a little sip of your hot cocoa. It’s a wonderful way to keep warm in this homely old cabin.
You glance over at Tim, who is now absentmindedly flipping through TV channels. He’s probably looking for sports or Storage Wars or something, you think. Some old man show you’ll never find interest in.
As you look at him a bit longer, just spacing out a bit with your eyes on his face, your mind meanders back to before you two were this comfortable with each other. It feels weird to think about that now, though. You couldn’t imagine being in that place again.
Tim’s told you before that you reminded him of himself when he was a younger, when he was ‘new and green’ as he’d say. You were a wide eyed, scared kid, just like he was. You deserved to be living in a dorm somewhere, getting shitfaced at college parties and making choices you’ll regret the next morning but laugh at for years, not to be forced to cope with this reality. No one deserves it, really, to wake up in an unfamiliar place surrounded only by endless woods, no one and nothing around to help you and your body aching all over with injuries you don’t recall getting. 
He knows that feeling. 
He’s never felt worse. Neither have you. It’s hard to get worse than that, really. 
You were still a bit dazed when he first helped you back to his cabin, but something about the worn walls and cozy, lived-in feeling of the old rugs and antique furniture told you you were safe, at least for now. You were out the second your head hit the pillow. You slept for nearly two days straight. You really needed it. 
Since then you’ve been a permanent fixture in Tim’s life. You don’t really leave the cabin, and you’ve never left alone. Tim says it’s just until you can find a job and a place of your own, but he doesn’t seem to be in any rush to kick you out. You’re thankful for that, of course, but you can’t help but smile every time he insists that this is only a temporary situation, that if you don’t get off your ass he’ll quite literally throw you to the wolves, but he always smiles too. You’re definitely on the same page, and the headline says you’re not going anywhere.
The rainy day melts into a rainy afternoon, then an evening, then a quiet night. The rain has slowed down a bit, but now the thunder has rolled in, and every ten or fifteen seconds or so you can hear it clapping loudly overhead. The sound is a bit more…penetrating than usual, a bit more raucous, and far more bothersome. You’re not sure why. The only thing you are sure of is that your once comforting outdoor ambience is really ticking you off. 
You sit up with a yawn, glancing at the clock and groaning with annoyance when you see it’s already passed 2:00 AM. Damn, you’ve been lying here a while, and still no luck getting to sleep. 
The thunder crashes outside once more, making you roll your eyes. It’s mocking you, you think, poking and prodding in an attempt to get a reaction. You simply sit there for a few moments, debating turning your TV on or reading a book to tire yourself a bit more, but neither of those are particularly attractive options at the moment. You bring your knees up and rest your head on them, half lidded eyes lazily wandering around your dark room. It looks the same as usual, no surprise there, but when you look down the hallway you notice that Tim’s door is cracked open. 
Hm. Odd. He never leaves it open. Must’ve stumbled off to bed and failed to realize he didn’t close it all the way. 
It’s not a big deal at all, really, but the light of his TV leaking out through the cracked door paired with the noise of the thunder gives you an idea. 
You slowly slip out of bed, cringing a bit when your feet hit the cold wood. You’re as quiet as you can be, avoiding all the floorboards you know will squeak. There’s really no point, Tim sleeps like a rock most nights, especially if he’s been drinking, but you figure you’re better off safe than sorry.
You make your way to his door, pushing it open just a bit to peek inside. You wince when the door creaks unbearably loudly, but Tim doesn’t move a muscle. He’s sprawled out like a starfish on his bed, limbs in all directions and his single blanket only half covering his body. He looks foolish, but in a charming sort of way. He’s even snoring a bit.
You cautiously make your way to his bedside, watching him for any sign of consciousness. You don’t want to startle him. Even if he didn’t mean to, he could really hurt you if he thought you were a threat, though at the moment he’s not very intimidating. His sweatpants are ratty, there’s no hiding his dad bod in that old sports tee, and his face is illuminated by the cheesy sitcom he left on; not exactly the pinnacle of danger. 
You step up to his bed, debating what to do. You should wake him gently, it reduces the risk of injury, but how do you gently wake someone who could sleep through an aerial assault?
“…Pssst, Tim?” You whisper, but get no response. You repeat yourself, a bit louder this time.
“Tim, wake up.” 
He stirs a bit, but all you get is a groan and a minute twitch of his eye. Dammit. 
You sigh and roll your eyes with annoyance, reaching out to softly shake his shoulder.
“Tim, it’s me. Wake up.”
He lazily swats your hand away, groaning again and mumbling a reply without even opening his eyes. 
“Whaddya want, kid…?” He asks, practically chewing his words.
“I can’t sleep,” You respond simply, giving a little shrug. Tim is not amused at this answer. 
“And why does this have to involve me?” He huffs, glancing at you for a moment before his eyes close again. He turns onto his side towards you, yawning as he tries to pull his blanket back up. 
You don’t really have an answer to that one. Why did you feel the need to come in here and wake Tim up? It’s not like he controls the thunder. It’s not like he controls your inability to sleep…
…But maybe he can help. 
“I can’t sleep,” You explain, trying to figure out how to word your request without sounding stupid, “The thunder is too loud. I thought maybe I could…you know…” 
Tim’s eyes finally open, for real. He raises a brow at you, and for a moment you fear you’ve overstepped, but his expression shifts to tired once more as he turns onto his back again. 
“Kid,” He mutters, clearly annoyed but trying to be gentle, “If you’re old enough to share a beer with me, you are definitely too damn old to be running into my bed ‘cause you’re scared of a li’l thunder.”
“I’m not scared,” You quickly protest, “It’s just too loud for me to sleep. I didn’t know what else to do, I just thought…”
You trail off. You’re not really sure what you thought.
“…Never mind.” 
You turn to walk away, hoping he’ll be too tired to remember this in the morning. You’re in the doorway when his gruff voice stops you. 
“Wait, wait,” He drawls, sleepily waving you over without moving from where he’s lying, “Get back here, I ain’t chasin’ ya off…” 
You pause at that, then slowly walk back to his bed. He’s silent, and for a few moments unmoving, but then he scoots over a bit, patting the bed next to him. 
“C’mon.” 
You sigh in relief, happy to see Tim responding at least somewhat positively. You climb into bed next to him, though you’re careful not to get too close to him. You and Tim don’t really do physical contact beyond a high five for a job well done. 
That’s what makes it all the more surprising when he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side but making sure to be gentle, giving you ample opportunity to pull away if you need to. You don’t.
He doesn’t turn to look at you, keeping his eyes closed and his face towards the ceiling, his free hand idly resting over his stomach. 
“…You ain’t too scared, are ya?” He drawls. You’re confused for a moment, but then the thunder sounds again and you realize what he means. You hadn’t even noticed the thunder since you walked in. It was nice. 
“No, I’m fine, really,” You insist, “I’m not scared, it’s just hard to sleep with the noise. It’s more annoying than anything else.”
He gives a grunt of acknowledgment. 
“You get on to sleep, then. Ain’t no reason for you to be tired tomorrow.” 
You nod, moving a bit closer to him. He, in turn, wraps him arm a bit tighter around you. It feels…nice. Foreign, yes, but far from unpleasant. He smells like pine trees and faded Old Spice cologne. 
You yawn softly, pulling the blanket up over the two of you as you get comfortable. A comfortable silence settles over you both as the sound of the thunder mixed with the blurry noise of the TV. You’re the first to break it, a question falling from your lips before you can really think of stopping it. 
“…You were worried I was afraid?” 
Tim shrugs, scratching at his stubble as he answers. 
“I mean, I guess…I just wanted to make sure, ya know? Make sure you didn’t need me to do nothing to make you feel better…” 
That makes you smile.
“Didn’t think you’d care that much…” You murmur with a hint of a giggle. 
“Don’t be stupid,” Tim quickly snaps, “Course I care. I care about you. Ain’t no way for me not to. I’ve cared about you since the second I took you in. You’re not that young, I know, but back then you were just a kid to me. You’ve matured since then, yeah, but I’ll never forget the way you looked when I found you wandering the trail that day…” 
“Yeah, yeah, and you remember when I was three apples tall, I get it,” You tease with a playful laugh. Tim can’t help but chuckle, giving you a little squeeze. 
“Can it, ya little shit. You know what I’m sayin’. I knew what I was doin’ when I let you into my home, I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t care.”
He’s got a point there. Most of the time Tim’s number one priority is self preservation. He rarely goes out of his way to do anything that doesn’t directly benefit him. He must’ve seen something in you absolutely worth the trouble. What exactly it is you’ll never know, but you’re certainly happy with where it’s gotten you. 
You turn to him a bit, giving him a tired smile. He turns to you as though he can sense your stare, cracking open one eye to return your smile before laying his head back again. 
“Alright, alright, ‘nuff yammerin’. Go to sleep,” He orders, reaching over to ruffle your hair before his hand rests back on his stomach. He never was good at being strict.
You stretch a bit before settling into your spot, getting as comfortable as you can so that you won’t have to shift around and risk bothering or waking up Tim later on. He hasn’t moved a muscle, his breathing already slowed and all of his muscles relaxed for once. It’s an odd sight, really. Usually he’s always holding some tension in his brow or jaw or shoulders, but he’s completely relaxed now, as are you. You finally feel like you could fall asleep.
“Night,” You mutter, your eyes fluttering shut. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Tim’s southern drawl ringing in your ears. 
“Sweet dreams, kid.”
207 notes · View notes
oddinarylani · 3 months
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10:58 pm | chan | a place to sleep, for just some time. 
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they jingled and shook together between your fingers; your keys. even just walking to your car, which was a mere few steps from your complex, left the scratched metal freezing cold and wet with condensation. the skin of your fingers was beginning to turn a rosy, pretty shade of red - kissed by the wind chill and met with the cold unceremoniously. 
huffs of hot breath leave your lips, your hand shoves your keys into your ignition - the click alerts your ears, and you turn. 
she struggles to start up, a few repeated misfires as she tries to get started up in the cold, you push your lips together, “c’mon-“ you mutter once before she starts, engine coming to life as your radio begins to sound throughout the confines of your car. you sigh in relief, sitting back to get cozy for the next 20 minutes it takes her to get even the slightest bit warm. 
as the engine warms to the first notch, some random playlist going - though your mind was rather fixated on how cold it was, not what music was playing, your phone buzzes. 
did it start up okay? 
your hands tremble, fingers numb as you type a reply. 
yeah, i’m letting it warm up before i head over 
please drive safe. the roads don’t look so good. 
i will, i promise. i’ll go slow so it’ll take me a minute. 
your phone still trembles in your fingers, a long shaky exhale leaves your lips, and chan sends a few more messages asking you to promise to be safe. forever doting on your wellbeing as he always had. it brings a smile to your shakes, and your car is a notch warmer. you change the song, hiding your fingers inside your jacket as you try to warm. 
your knuckles have almost split and cracked from the dryness - you feel the ache over the skin - red and flustered and freezing, a kind of beautiful clash against the pure white of the snow on the ground. 
it was reaching -22° now - the power had been out for 2 days, and you texted chan out of pure frozen desperation. finally caving on his request to have you stay over to keep out of the cold of your apartment. ice was beginning to form around your window pane, and now, you could periodically see your breaths in your own home. groceries were getting low and you were feeling fairly hopeless and frustrated at the predicament. 
with one more promise of your carefulness to chan, you pull out of your complex to begin you drive, changing the song once more. 
the ice and frozen pavement crunches and groans under your tires, but you have one thing on your mind keeping you going - and when you finally arrive you nearly feel like crying just at the sight. 
chan walks out the door to greet you and take your bags, burying further in his hoodie when he feels how cold it’s getting outside. you throw your bags over you shoulder, waddling up to him and leaning up to kiss him when he takes your bags. 
“hey baby,” he smiles. “let’s get you inside.” you nod, jaw chattering. 
“if you want to lay down or change i just put the heated blanket on in my bed, i’ll get you some tea.” he leans in, kissing your cheek as you nod and shuffle off to his room. 
his apartment is warm, warm and so comforting. you shes your layers, down to a long sleeve shirt and your fleece leggings and socks and slide into his bed, feeling your bones and muscles relax to the warmth and your jaw still from the chattering. 
chan comes in a moment later, smiling at your cocooned state; the blankets pulled to your mouth, eyes closed as your body tries to take in as much warmth as possible. 
“c’mere, baby.” he lifts the covers to slide in next to you, shuddering when he feels how cold you were against him. “o-ooh, you’re so cold.” he frowns softly, fully pressing his body against you, wrapping his arms around you. his hands gently scratch and soothe your skin, warming you up beneath his palms. 
you nuzzle for his warmth, face buried in his shoulder and neck, your legs searching and preening to be intertwined with his. “i-i know, sorry.” you mumble, keeping your freezin digits to yourself until they warmed up enough. 
“don’t apologize, baby. just glad you’re here, couldn’t imagine how bad it was at your place.” he cradles the back of your head, fingers scratching at your scalp and threading through your hair. 
god, it felt so good to be in his arms. he was all encompassing, sobering - like being held by him brought every thought to the forefront of your mind and it was all just him. 
he was warm, holding you in the way he knew you loved, the way he always did. it took the breath from you a bit, to be swallowed up by him. 
the water for your tea dings and he stands, softly rubbing your waist and hip as he gets up. “i’ll be right back, you want cream? sugar?” you nod and he chuckles, coming back a moment later with your tea in hand. you sit up, a bit fuzzy from the warmth and take the cup he offered, the steam wafting from the top ever inviting. 
you smile softly at him, your eyes meeting for a brief moment. “thank you, my love.” you lean in once more, your lips meting softly as a thank you. he hums, eyes a bit sparkly and mouth crinkled with a soft smile. 
his eyes filter down to your hands, brow and eyes contorting. “oh your hands,” he fetches a small bottle of lotion, popping open the cap as he puts a good amount in his own hands, taking yours. 
he brings your hands to his lips, kissing them softly with his pillowy lips before working the lotion into your skin. 
you smile at his gesture, soon the cracking of your knuckles healed over a bit with the moisture, and he takes your hands in his, squeezing softly. 
“you’re too good to me.” you chuckle, leaning further to wrap your arms around him, fully wrapped in his embrace. 
233 notes · View notes
alexa-fika · 19 days
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Hello Alexa! Hope your doing well as always seems like your not lacking requests so put the other requests before my own ♡
An idea came to me last night when I failed a test for the third time- and need to redo it, when I'm sad or something bad happens I go hide in my closet with blankets and pillows, like a child- so how would the whitebeard pirates or mihawk react to child dokusha hiding when their sad? Like their because they got in trouble or isn't allowed to go with the crew on an island and instead has to stay on the ship?
As someone who had gone through a lot in their early childhood I find these stories so comforting and sweet. I often find myself only opening Tumblr to see if you've posted. Remember to take care of yourself, because someone really cares about you♡
Solace and Comfort (Whitebeard pirates, Mihawk x gn!child!reader)
A/N Hey hey Holo! I absolutely love when you request and as a a ghank you for being such a sweetheart I went ahead and did both :) I also do the same thing, when im upset I like to find a closed or cozy space and just huddle up and hug my plushies. Your words really mean a lot, I appreciate them and it makes me so giddy.
Reader is replaced by Dokucha as a placeholder which stands for Reader in japanese
Dividers by @/saradika
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Thatch found himself in his kitchen, preparing the next meal for his Captain. He made sure to take into account his current condition and choose the right ingredients to alleviate it.
"Hm, should I use kale or broccoli for this one?" he inquired to Izou, who had joined him earlier to escape the rowdiness of the crew as he completed maintenance in his pistols.
"I'm hardly the person you should ask Thatch."
"Kale it is," he exclaimed, beginning to chop down said vegetable, the tapping of the knife hitting the cupboard echoing around the otherwise quiet room
"Regardless, it is about time we addressed it, isn't it?" Izou spoke, pushing the lock back in his flintlock, a snap resounding across the kitchen
The chef stops chopping the kale at the comment, glancing up at his brother and letting out a sigh, putting the knife down
“I suppose so.”
“How about it, Dokucha? Want to come out and talk about it?” The sniper called out, walking around the counter to stand next to Thatch
A few beats of silence filled the room after that statement until the sound of ruffling came from one of the cabinets in the kitchen as Dokucha slowly crawled out of it, a stuffed bird held tightly in their arms
“How did you know I was here?” They mumbled, drying their teary eyes
“You usually hide here when something happens,” Thatch answered, kneeling down
"You should consider branching out," added Izou with a smile
"Would you like a hug?" Thatch offered
They nod, running into his arms, cries escaping them as he crashes into him
Thatch hummed, wrapping his arms around them and picking them up, swinging them from side to side for a few minutes until their cries lessened
"What's going on?" Izou questioned, glancing at the child, who by this point had positioned their head on Thatch's shoulder and looking back at Izou
"I wanted to go with Ace," they sniffled
"I know you do, but he had a risky mission he had to go on," Izou replies gently
"Why?" they cried
“They had something of ours, so Ace had to get it back.”
“I wanted to go with Big Brother too!” They cried, beginning to struggle against Thatch’s embrace
“Let me go!” They scream, beginning to throw punches his way
“Hey, Hey, it’s okay,” the man reassured them, tightening their hold, ignoring the shrill screams that now escaped them
“Hey, Hey, Dokucha, he always comes back, just like he came back from his previous mission and the one before. Just like I come back, just like Izou, and everyone will come back. But we need to calm down so we can welcome them back.”
“We would love to take you with us, Dokucha, but we want to keep you safe even more; we couldn’t bear something happening to you,” Izou continues, rubbing the child’s head
They sniffle, relaxing in their hold
“Hey, how about we go see Pops?” Thatch suggests
“Papaw?”
“Yeah, I’m almost finished with his meal; how about you come with us to deliver it?”
“Okay”
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“Pops, food is ready; we had special help today.” thatch announced approaching the man
Whitebeard glances down at the two commanders, about to ask what they mean, until he spots the ‘special help’ running towards him
“Papaw!”
He grins, lifting the child up
“Gurararara, what brings you here, Dokucha?” he questions, glancing down at his sixteenth commander as he spoke
“We were having a hard time earlier wanted to go with Ace.”
“Gurarara, why would you be upset about such a thing brat?”
They shrug
“Has the boy ever broken his promise to come back?”
“No…”
“Has he ever lied to you?”
“No…”
“Then why were you throwing a fit?”
“I didn’t throw a fit!”
“Sounds like you did”
“You’re mean, Papaw!”
“It’s called tough love.”
“It’s being mean!”
“If that’s the case, are you not coming to the celebration when he does return?”
“I want to!”
“Are we done with the fits?”
“Yeah!”
“Did someone say celebration? I could use some grub,” a voice joins in
Dokucha beams, jumping off Whitebeard's hand and crashing into Ace
“Ace! You’re back!”
“Just like I promised.”
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“Where are they?”
The human drills look at each other nervously and turn back to the swordsman, letting out a string of hoots and sneers.
Mihawk narrows his eyes at this
“Is that the answer you wish to go with?” He said, pulling out Yoru from his back and pointing it against the apes
“I will allow you to try again; where are they? I am well aware this is where they run to when they grow upset.”
In response, the human drills sounds escalate as they pull out their own weapons, only to stop as a small voice joins in
“It’s okay, Ezra, Enrique.” A small child wrapped in a blanket spoke, patting the apes, effectively calming them Down as they slowly lowered their weapons
“Don’t hurt them, Papa,” they mumble, hugging their blanket closer to them
He sighs, sheathing Yoru once again and extending his hand toward the child
The child wobbles their way to their father, taking hold of their hand and looking back at the human drills, sending a wave their way
As they walked on, the only sound that could be heard was the sounds of the forest around them as insects and birds chirped together, the sound of the human drills still reaching their ears, and the sound of Dokucha’s blanket being dragged as they walked next to the warlord.
“Are you going to tell me why you ran off?” he spoke, breaking the silence between them
He sighs at the silence that followed, pausing to pick up the child and place them on his hip, in turn the child leans their head against his shoulder
“Is this about the sword practice you were doing before?” He inquired, letting out a hum as the child nodded their head against his shoulder
“Can you tell me about it?”
“I can’t do it,” he mumbles
“Do what?”
“I can’t make the sword cut like Papa’s.”
“Is that what this is about?”
“Yeah”
“That kind of precision takes practice, it takes time,” he explains
“But I want to be strong like you!” They cried, leaning back and glancing up at him
His eyes soften at this, halting his walking as he puts all his attention on the child
“I know you do,” he said, wiping the tears that began falling from their eyes
“But one cannot simply master the sword overnight.”
“Not even Papa?.”
“No, I am not an exception to the statement. I had to train for years to be able to reach my current state, and I don’t doubt you will one day surpass me; that day is just not today.”
They frown at that, lying their head on their shoulder again
“How about we begin with the move you were attempting before?”
“Papa will teach me?” They exclaimed, shooting up
He chuckles
“You should have asked; I am never below teaching you the way of the sword.”
They grin, hugging his neck tightly
“I love you, Papa.”
“I love you too, dearest.”
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Here we go! Two for two!! These are really cozy ones, loved how the Mihawk one turned out
Taglist:
@imaginarydreams
@amethystviolin
@h0n3y-l3m0n05
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lale-txt · 4 months
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❈ 𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 𝐰/ 𝐈𝐧𝐨 & 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
where you and Ino are stuck due a snow storm and have to stay warm...
a/n: merry Christmas, my dear @mirkaaaluv (´⌣`ʃƪ)♡ i'm sooo excited i get to be your secret santa! you definitely passed the Ino fever onto me, how is he just so [incoherent screeching]? hope you'll enjoy this fic, i had so much fun writing this for you.
contains: ns.fw under the cut, afab!reader (no pronouns used, ‘cunt’ and ‘pussy’ used to describe genitalia), dirty talk, spanking, breath play, overstimulation, praise kink, fingering (reader receiving), creampie, breeding kink (no mention of pregnancy or babies), rough but loving sex, pet names (babe, baby, sweet little thing, darling)
word count: 3.1k
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“See? A small fire and this place feels super cozy already. Imagine a little winter vacation getaway, just you and me–” “–and the hundred curses hiding outside within the temple, waiting to be exorcized…” “Babe, please… I’m trying to be romantic here…”
You can’t help but giggle when Ino takes you in his arms and kisses the bridge of your nose, rubbing your back to warm you up. He had managed to light up the old stove with some firewood, old newspapers and a pack of matches that you found within the abandoned hut. Now the crackling sound of burning wood filled the room, paired with the relentless howling of the snow storm outside. It was a miracle that you found this place during your mission, caught by surprise from the sudden snow. Judging from the simple but clean interior, someone associated with the uninhabited temple you were supposed to cleanse of curses has lived here before. 
Now it is your safe haven in the midst of a storm. While the weather forecast didn’t look good, neither of you would have expected to get snowed in, but here you are. And still, you couldn’t even be mad about it–being stuck with Ino in the middle of nowhere wasn’t too bad, considering your occupation as sorcerers often didn’t leave you with much free time to spend together as a couple. Maybe the stars had aligned to grant you some time together, or how Ino said: A little winter vacation getaway. 
Your partner seems to be all fired up about the situation you found yourself in, his protective instincts kicking into gear. He scurries around the hut, opening drawers and cabinets and gathering everything that could be useful in a pile; from blankets to an old kettle, he even found some dried tea leaves and pickled veggies (that would go along perfectly with the bread rolls Nanami had gifted you and Ino prior to your mission, a small souvenir from his latest bakery discovery). He also drags the mattress from the other room over, putting it in front of the stove from where you watched him with a small smirk curving up your lips. Within a few minutes the room already looked much cozier than before. 
“We should probably get out of these wet clothes or else we’ll catch a cold,” you point out and Ino nods, a hint of mischief on his face before he peels out of his jacket and his black sweater, hanging both over a chair to dry. Both of you strip down to your underwear (not without a little peeking), then Ino is the first to sit down on the mattress, grabbing the biggest blanket and patting his thigh for you to sit on. You don’t hesitate at all, craving all the warmth you can get. When you crawl into his arms, you’re welcomed with lots and lots of kisses on your face down to the side of your neck, before you settle down comfortably with your back against Ino’s chest, letting him wrap the blanket around you both. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, taking deep inhales of the scent of his favorite person in the whole world. 
A comfortable silence falls between you two, and for a while you just sit there holding each other, watching the fire in the stove almost mesmerized, and listening to the sounds of the storm outside. Snow is already piling up on the windowsill while the sun is long gone, but you’re not afraid; you could never while being in these arms. 
“I love you so,” Ino eventually mumbles against your skin before kissing your shoulder and hugging you a bit closer to him. He cups your hands with his, noticing how they were still not fully warmed up yet. He rubs them a little and places a few kisses on your fingertips. “Should I go find another blanket for you? Or make some tea?”
You shake your head and rest your head against his shoulder, looking up at him with a small smile. “Nah, I’m fine. Let’s just stay like this for a little longer. I already feel much warmer.”
Ino looks like he is about to protest, but then he opts to kiss you instead. He is gentle at first, his lips softly brushing against yours, but he is quick to pick up your subtle cues and kisses you harder, one hand coming to your chin while his tongue finds yours. His arm wraps a little tighter around your middle, pulling you closer to him, till there’s not even an inch left between your bare bodies. You can tell from his breathing that Ino is feeling the same rising heat from within as you do. 
A quiet growl comes from his throat when you arch your back a little, grinding your ass against his boxers from where his cock was throbbing already, and it takes him every ounce of self-restraint to not just pull the fabric aside and sink you down on his length. Instead he makes sure you’re nestled tightly with your back against his chest, the hand on your chin wandering down slowly to your throat while his other reaches for your thighs, spreading them open till your legs are hooked over his knees. The blanket hides the damp patch in your panties that would otherwise be on full display, but by now Ino doesn’t need to see to know how aroused you are; your sweet little sounds and your squirming tell him everything he needs to know. 
“Wet already? My sweet little thing is so eager for me, hm?” he hums in your ear when running his knuckles between your clothed folds, the fabric sticking to them. You whine a little, hungry for more of his touch, and he squeezes his fingers around your throat a bit tighter, not too much but enough to remind you of the position you’re in. “Tell me what you want, baby…”
Not giving you any time to respond, Ino’s big hand cups your cunt, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest when he feels you buck your hips against him. He starts to massage your folds a little, a thumb brushing over your sensitive clit and making your legs tremble, a finger hooked under the crotch of your panties and pulling them up. He always loves to tease you like that, your reactions making him hungry to devour you. 
“Wanna cum on your cock,” you mumble in his ear, kissing every inch of him you can reach. His scent was so familiar, so warm, and a little intoxicating; you just couldn’t get enough of him, ever. “Wanna feel you all the way inside my tummy…” 
“Oh, yeah? Gonna be so good for me, baby? Gonna let me stuff that pretty little cunt of yours?”, Ino asks, his voice low and husky. He’s planning on fucking you against every flat surface in this hut anyway, but he loves it when you use your words to say what you want. He can never get enough of the yearning and the desire in your voice, a melody for his ears only. Patience was never his strong suit though, not when you’re both so riled up, so it’s no surprise when he slides your panties down to your ankles and dips one finger into your wetness. 
Your head falls back against his shoulder when Ino adds a second finger, then a third when he feels how your walls flutter around him. His breath is hot and heavy on your skin while he makes you fall apart in his arms, whispering needy words close to your ear. His hand around your throat squeezes tighter every time you clench down on his slender fingers, rubbing that sweet spot that pushes you over the edge so easily. You start feeling a little lightheaded, your whole body tingling. 
“Cum for me, baby… need you all nice and loose so you can take me, okay?”, Ino mutters, pressing his fingers deeper into your heat. You’re dripping by now, your juices running down his wrist while you swallow him so greedily, close, so close–
Ino lets go of your throat once you gush around him, muffling your mewls and whimpers with a deep kiss that takes your breath away. He keeps teasing your clit throughout your orgasm, the overstimulation making you squirm, but you’re still nestled so tightly against him, there’s no escape. Ino can never get enough of the way you look when you’re wrecked with pleasure, but he’s no bully so he lets you breathe for a moment and slides his fingers out to bring them to his lips. 
“I love how you taste,” he moans quietly against your ear, relishing the sticky mess you’ve made. Ino kisses you again and lets you savor your own juices. “So sweet. So delicious. Tastes like heaven to me.” 
He nibbles on your ear and holds you tight in his arms until your heart rate slows down a bit. The whole time his aching cock is pressed against the small of your back, throbbing and desperate to be touched.
When you finally feel the strength in your limbs returning, you sit up slightly, the blanket falling down your shoulders and revealing your bare form. Ino’s eyes never leave your silhouette, he’s taking you in and admiring the shape of you with the eyes of a love drunk man. 
“Fuck me.” 
Your voice is barely a whisper, a little husky even. Dripping with desire. Ino pulls down his boxers and his cock springs free, resting heavy against his stomach. The pink tip is oozing with precum, he can barely hold back anymore. He starts stroking himself slowly while you get on all fours, facing the stove and presenting him your backside. You lower your upper body to the ground, your ass up in the air, spreading your folds with two fingers wide open for him. Ino lets out a shaky breath at the sight of yours, but he doesn’t dare to touch you yet.
“Please… need your cock. Need you inside. Fuck me, Ino, darling, please, fuck me…”
Your sweet please make your lover’s resistance crumble. Ino gets behind you, one hand on your ass to spread it apart even wider for a better view. The light of the fire dips him into warm shades of gold, and his hungry gaze lingers on you. You let out a needy mewl when he rubs just the tip against your cunt, almost making you jolt from being so sensitive still. You whine out his name and arch your back more to push yourself onto him, but he keeps you in place, his fingers digging deeply into your flesh. Ino breathes heavily, and then his hand comes down for a sharp smack, quickly soothed by more kneading. 
“You’re dripping,” he mutters and teases your clit with the tip of his cock, charming out sweet moans from your throat with every move. “Tell me again what you want, baby, c’mon…”
“Need your cock, please, please, just fuck me already–”, you whimper, and cry out loud when another smack lands on your ass, the other side this time. The sharp pain burns so good, and this time Ino comes down to kiss the spot where a faint red mark blooms. Oh, how badly Ino wants to bury his face in your cunt, and lick and spit and suck till you choke on his name on your tongue, but for now he has other plans.
With one swift movement he grabs you by the hips and spins you around, letting out a small growl now that you’re under him. Ino leans down, one hand grabbing your wrists and pinning them down above your head, while his lips find yours again, kissing you feverishly. His cock rests heavy and twitching on your stomach now, as if to demonstrate you how deep he’s gonna nestle inside of you.
“Wanna see your pretty face when you cream around my cock, baby,” Ino sighs and looks at you like you’re magic; pure adoration and desire. It sends warm shivers throughout your whole body and makes your pussy throb, feeling empty ever since his fingers slid out. He lets go of your wrists to grab your legs and put them over his shoulders, making sure you’re comfortable while being spread wide open for him. Ino kisses the insides of your thighs, a few light bites in between, and groans when your hands come to his cock, giving it a few strokes before raising your hips slightly for him to slide in. By now your mind is blank, desiring nothing but to be stuffed to the brim.
The air is knocked out of lungs when Ino finally pushes his cock inside in one swift movement. You’re so wet and your walls swallow him greedily, fluttering around him as you let out a sigh of relief, the biggest smile curling upon your lips when he starts rutting like an animal, setting a merciless pace from the very beginning. While he first held your legs in place, Ino now puts his hands down on the mattress next to your head, basically folding you in half while he keeps on pounding into you. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby, feels so good, so pretty for me…” Ino growls and brushes a strand of hair out of your face to get a better look at your blissfully fucked out expression, your eyes rolling in the back of your head with every thrust of his. Your sweet moans and whimpers are louder than the snow storm outside and awake something feral within him; all he can think about is how badly he wants to breed you, how he wants to stuff you so full of his cum till it’s dripping out of your throbbing core, how he needs to fill you up till you remember his shape forever.
“Close… ‘m so close…”, you mewl, that familiar knot in your core once again dancing on the edge of snapping. You’re melting underneath him, your vision getting a little blurry when you rest one hand on your tummy and feel his cock stretching you out so deliciously. The words falling out of your mouth are drowned out in needy moans and whimpers. “Gonna cum… wanna cum with you, Ino… love you, gonna cum, gonna…” 
Ino lets out an airy laugh, not mocking but so full of love, overwhelmed by his own emotions. He leans down to kiss you again, and to push his cock a little bit deeper inside of you as well until he’s fully bottomed out in your aching cunt. 
“I love you. Love you so much, baby,” he babbles, his hips stuttering by now while he also chases his high, his thrusts getting harsh and sloppy. “Sweet thing… taking me so well… gonna let me fill you up, yeah? Want my cum? I love you. I love you. Fuck, you’re squeezing me, baby, feels good, feels so good… I love your pussy so much… love you. Mine, all mine… ‘m gonna…” 
Your legs slide down from his shoulders and wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer to you, as if he wasn’t already bottomed out in your core, seconds away from falling apart. He moans into your open mouth and after one more brutish thrust you feel waves of pleasure rush throughout your limbs, a numbing and tingling sensation exploding within you. You cum so hard, it makes Ino take a sharp breath and whimper as your cunt milks him, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck when he cums shortly after you, spilling his hot load inside. 
While your orgasm seems to last forever, neither Ino nor you make an attempt to move or pull apart, content in your tiny universe. The only sounds are your heavy breathing, your hammering heartbeat and the crackling of the fire wood. Ino still keeps on mumbling words of praise and adoration against your skin, until you muffle them with a kiss on his lips which he returns with equal passion. 
You trace the scar on his forehead gently with your fingers while gazing into his eyes. They were a bit glazy, with the reflection of the flames dancing in them. Ino leans more into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand and down to your wrist. He doesn’t pull out, not yet, feasting on the feeling of you pulsating around his cock; his load and your juices slowly dripping down from where you’re connected. 
“You’re not cold anymore, are you? I warmed you up really good?”, he asks with a grin and gently bites down on one of your fingers. His eyes sparkle with mischief. You let out a small chuckle. Sometimes he reminds you of a puppy, chewing on everything he could get a hold on, and so eager to get praised.
“Mmm, I’m not sure,” you think out loud and watch his eyebrows twitch in irritation. You laugh again and cup his chin with your hand, pressing another kiss on his lips. “I’ve heard it’s important to keep moving if you want to stay warm…” 
Ino huffs and rolls his hips in response, twitching inside of you, getting hard again. He is so easy to tease, it’s adorable. His hands come down to your hips, and suddenly in one swift motion you’re lying flat on your stomach again, with Ino bottoming out inside of you. Being manhandled like this, plus the new angle, make you moan out loud and tremble from pleasure and overstimulation, and Ino clicks his tongue at your poor attempt to crawl away.
“Oh, I can keep you warm, my sweet,” he whispers close to your ear, pinning you down against the mattress. He lets out a small hushed moan when you arch your back further for him. “Will you be good and return the favor? Gonna let me keep my cock in your pretty pussy? You’re clenching so hard around me, baby, it’s like you never wanna let me go…”
There’s truth in his words, and that night, you definitely don’t let go; and when the sun rises again and the snow starts melting, nothing but love lies on the tip of your tongue, getting swallowed greedily by the one who has your whole heart.
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argisthebulwark · 9 months
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One Bed Trope
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summary: Oh no, there's only one bed. gn reader, no pronouns or y/n used. feat: Cicero, Farkas, Vilkas, Tedryn, Mercer, Arnbjorn warnings: none
Cicero is very touchy. As he’s the Keeper you’re no stranger to his touch. It seems his unconscious urge to care for you is strong - nimble fingers untangling your hair and offering blankets to keep you warm. He just wants to help his Listener. Even when he drifts off to sleep he keeps a protective hand on you, needing to be alert if anything happens during the night. “You need your rest, Listener. Loyal Cicero will keep you safe, don’t fret.” 
Farkas is quick to share your bedroll when a snowstorm blocks your path home. You taunt him for forgetting his pack while he shimmies into your blankets. Part of you wants to kick him out; the sheer size of him leaves you cramped in your own bed roll, but he’s warm. You succumb to the heat radiating through his thin tunic when he wraps an arm around your waist. He’s somehow just as large without all that armor.  “It’s just for survival, right? We might as well make the most of it.”
Vilkas goes silent when the innkeeper informs you there’s only one bed left. You avoid eye contact, following him to the room and Vilkas swiftly offers to sleep on the floor. Your heart’s in your throat when you coax him into the bed, acutely aware of his every movement. Much to your chagrin he vows to keep out of your space. He’s a man of his word - even when you hear him snoring he hardly moves, leaving a mass of blankets between your bodies. After the best night of sleep you can recall, you wake with your head comfortably resting on his chest. You sneak a peek at his face and find a rare, relaxed expression there.  “We should keep this to ourselves. If Farkas hears rumors of us sharing a bed he’ll never let us forget it.” 
Teldryn is accustomed to roughing it, he assures you he won’t mind sleeping on the couch. He’s surprised when you urge him to join you. Cracking a joke about his old bones he hopes to break the tension. He’s careful to give you space despite your hand creeping across the bed to find his. He’s a light sleeper, waking every time you inch closer to him. He’ll remember to tease you about it in the morning.  “I could get used to this, remind me to bribe the next innkeeper we come across to reserve only one bed.” 
Mercer threatens to take the entire bed, sneering when he reminds you of the bed roll in your pack. The inn only has one open room and you aren’t making it back to Riften before the storm rolled in. He begrudgingly scoots over when you threaten to kick him off, laughing when you cozy into his side. It’s only hours after you’ve fallen asleep that his gaze softens, unsure fingers brushing some hair off your cheek.  “Best keep your hands to yourself. Don't want word gettin’ back to the others about you sleeping with the Guild Master.” 
Arnbjorn grumbles at you to keep your distance. Even if there’s only one bed left he isn’t cruel enough to force you to sleep on the floor - not in this weather, anyway. The snowstorm raging outside leaves the room chilly and the stone floors are downright frigid. He’ll never admit to draping an arm around you when he hears the wind whistling outside, nor the way he secretly revels in your hands creeping up his body.  "‘Course I won’t let you freeze. Say a word of this to the others and it’ll be the last you speak, got it?” 
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bluejeanstrash · 1 year
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this to me is peak boyfriend seungcheol. it’s escaping to the mountains for the weekend to spend some quiet quality time together. 
it’s sitting by the water where seungcheol has been trying to fish for an hour, occasionally getting excited that he’s caught something only for it to swim away. you’re sitting on one of those foldable camping chairs writing in your journal. you take a moment to look up at him and god, he’s beautiful. 
his hair is all fluffy and tousled by the wind, clothes fluttering with every gust, and there’s the soft morning sun which seems to be glowing just on him. he feels you looking at him as he turns around and smiles. it's that smile that makes you feel all warm and mushy - the one where his eyes crinkle slightly and he looks especially kind.
you wave at him and he waves back, and just as he’s about to turn back around he notices something ‘are you cold?’ he asks seeing how you’re sitting. you tell him you’re fine but he knows you’re not. you've been freezing for the past 20 minutes, too lazy to get up and do something about it.
immediately, seungcheol drops his fishing rod and does a half-jog towards the car to get you a blanket. ‘i’m fine! seriously!’ you try to stop him but he waves off your protests and hurries to the car, returning with a thick cozy blanket and some hot packs. he warms them up, giving you some before wrapping the blanket tight around you, making sure you’re all bundled up and toasty. after ensuring no cold wind can get through, he pulls your beanie down to cover your ears properly.
and then he takes a step back to admire how cuddly you look.
‘wait, i have to take a picture of this’ he pulls out his phone as you pose for him - smiling wide, your fingers in a peace sign. ‘so cuteeee’ he squeals, smiling at his screen fondly. ‘wow, my girlfriend is seriously cute’ you see him change his wallpaper.
you ask if he’s having better luck with fishing and he pouts, complaining to you about all the hurdles he’s facing - how the fish are being mean to him, how they're just eating the bait and swimming away, and how he caught one so easily last time. ‘seriously, it was this huge’ he shows you with his hands.
you pat the chair beside you ‘why don’t you take a break and try again later?’
‘should i?’ he takes a seat, holding his knees and groaning like an old man as he sits. it was a habit of his that you had really grown to love. ‘what are you writing?’ he points at your journal.
‘um, nothing in particular. just about life in general - this trip, stuff like that’ he nods attentively and a second later asks ‘am i in it?’ it’s endearing how hopeful he sounds.
‘mmmm, that’s a secret’ you whisper playfully, making him laugh.
‘come on, tell meee’ he pokes you over the blanket.
‘i can’t just tell you. you have to unlock the secret’ you tease. 
some whiny noises later he asks ‘okay, how do i unlock it?’ 
‘with a kiss’ you pucker your lips at him as a faint pink flush spreads across his cheeks.
‘ay! you just want to kiss me!’ 
despite his complaints, he leans forward giving you a sweet kiss and as you pull away he pouts ‘one more’ before going in for another peck. 
‘so?’
‘yeah, you’re in it’ you confess.
‘really?’ he smiles, his feet tapping the ground happily. you chuckle at his cuteness before looking back to the view in front of you.
‘it's really so beautiful here' you say as he hums in agreement.
‘but-’ he turns to you dramatically ‘-not as beautiful as you’ you both look at each for a second, cringing, before you burst out laughing. the sounds of laughter melt into a comfortable silence as he grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers in yours. you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.
it’s just the whistle of the wind, the rustle of leaves, sounds of slow-moving water, and birds chirping. and you feel so safe and happy that it’s almost overwhelming. seungcheol lets out a soft sigh as his shoulders drop, his body relaxing under you. 
‘i’m so happy right now’ he says quietly - not to you or to anyone in particular, but just into existence. 
you hold his hand tighter as he squeezes yours, bending to kiss the top of your head. as you both sit there in silence, you shut your eyes, trying to live in this moment forever.
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