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neopuppy · 2 years

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Saturday Drip (M)

Preview: “Can you believe while we were sitting swamp ass in misery— Jaemin was fucking my favorite cam girl?!” Jeno blurts out before his roommate can recall the actual events that took place.

“We didn’t do anything like that, but..” Jaemin takes in his friends intrigued stares, nervously mumbling. “She’s looking for Alphas..”

Renjun’s brows twist, inching closer with interest. “For what?”

“To film content.”

Pairing: alpha NCT Dream 00line x female omega reader

Word Count: 15k+

Genre: a/b/o AU, broke college boys, pure and utter filth, cnc(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.), pwp, dom alphas, one shot(do not ask for a pt2😾)

Smut Warning: rough sex, breeding, knotting, rough oral(m/f), double penetration(both), choking, spit, squirting, praise/degradation, big mean alphas, camera use, manhandling, mind break, wet & messy etc

Playlist: Saturday Drip/NCT Dream, Big Ole Freak/Megan The Stallion, Super Freaky Girl/Nicki Minaj, Hi, I’m A Slut/Lil Mariko, Cyber Sex/Doja Cat, Sexxx Dreams/Lady Gaga

It’s hot, it’s way too hot. Sweats already begun to pool under Jeno’s back, limbs gone heavy stuck to his bed. It’s useless trying to get off when all he can focus on is the lack of cool air blowing out of the vent. Everything feels dry and musty around him making it impossible to even breathe peacefully.

The AC unit just had to break last night, again. Only an hour after he’d just rushed home from his shift at the gym. Opting to skip showering in the locker rooms after clocking out when his phone pinged with a new notification.

‘Riding an inflatable sybian, how long can I last?’

“Fuck.” Jeno mumbles to himself, quickly grabbing his belongings. He’d just rinse off real fast once he gets home. It’s gonna be a long night anyway. Not in the way he’d imagined with his palm wrapped around his cock, edging himself for hours on end in front of a computer screen.

It’s not as if he has a paper due on Monday, prioritizing his favorite Omega fucking a sex machine over his grades without question or worry. He paid for a monthly subscription for good reason. It’s not like it’s his goal in life was to be a nutritionist anyway. Most of his time in class was spent on daydreaming of how he could just fuck his way to success and fortune instead.

Not that this had anything to do with the amount of porn acquiring his desktop, or the hours he wasted away watching obscene videos. If only his essay was about how to properly eat ass.

“Hey.” Jaemin greets him upon entering. Standing in front of the open freezer door with sweat trickling down his bobbing throat.

“Dude what the fuck? It’s disgusting in here.” Jeno can’t stand the heat. Having to psyche himself out to believe he didn’t just stand too close to multiple bodies in a hot subway cart. Ignoring hot breath reaching his neck as he stood taller than those around him making his journey home all the more uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” closing the freezer door, Jaemin lays his torso on the kitchen counter sluggishly. “Pretty sure the air conditioning broke, again. I called up Mark to let him know. He said no one can come fix it until Monday.”

“Last time he said that, no one came for three weeks!” Jeno exclaims, ripping open the fridge for a frozen water bottle to rub on his sweltering skin. “Jaem, I can’t live like this! It’s over 100 degrees outside.”

“I know, trust me. I’ll keep badgering him, alright?” Jaemin sighs. Already drained of energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

“I have to get going, you can use my fan for now.” Jaemin offers, using paper towels to dab away sweat before heading out. Knowing he’ll be dripping in it with a heavy bag of camera equipment on his back.

“Where are you going?” Jeno’s already removing his clothes. Jamein mumbling for him to not plaster his wet naked ass to their couch.

“I got a gig finally, I should be back late.” Hauling on his equipment he waves a ‘later’ before stepping out. Head tilting up curiously as he hears shouting.

“Answer me you fucking piece of shit!!”

“Dude what happened to you? Why are you drenched?” Jaemin pauses mid-walk. Adjusting the camera gear weighing on his shoulders as he spots Renjun on the phone outside of his apartment.

“A pipe busted above my room! There’s a huge leak in my closet!” Renjun’s frantic, arm waving around behind him as he explains. “And our fucking AC isn’t working! Again!”

“Oh my God, I’d tell you to crash at mine but ours isn’t working either!” Jaemin sighs, shaking his head. “We need to move out of this shit hole.”

“Tell me about it!” Renjun groans, slamming a thumb down on his phone to hang up. “Haechan’s gonna be so pissed off when he gets home. He’s been working overtime today cause we’re short on rent again.”

“We pay way too much to live in this crap, just because it’s a mile away from SNU.” Jaemin says with a roll of his eyes. “So much for college being the best years of our lives.”

“That’s high school,” Renjun corrects, waving him off. “I have to check on the leak. Catch you later man.”

Nodding to his friend Jaemin continues toward the exit. Passing the broken elevator that Mark claimed would get fixed 5 months ago, never once spotting a maintenance person in sight.

Out of desperation he ended up searching for freelance photographer jobs. Weddings required too much experience, editorials asking for examples of work and complete portfolios.

It felt hopeless until he landed on an ad seeking someone with less experience. Specifically stating they wouldn’t mind an intern level type who is still in the process of learning. Wishing for more ‘gritty’ and ‘real’ photography that can pass off as homemade.

‘Must be comfortable with full nudity and sex acts. You will be shooting and filming content for my xxx website. 21+ with ID proof and examples of your work. Contact me directly via email to set up a time.’

Jaemin decided to neglect mentioning that part to his roommate. It was either this or he’d be short on rent like his next door neighbors’ current struggle. Knowing Jeno he’d hear ‘pornographic content’ and ask to tag along as his assistant for the day. Casually joking about how he could fuck better than the Alphas in video links shared through their group chats.

‘I guess if I’m ever desperate enough for money I’d do it. My dicks big enough.’

Jaemin always thought his friend was too brash for saying such ridiculous things nonchalantly.

He could never have anticipated reaching that level of desperation himself mere hours later.

He’s not sure what to think as he stands in your bedroom. Struggling to process a thought while you continue explaining your field of work, tossing different sets of colorful lingerie onto a king-size bed decorated like something straight out of a home decor magazine.

“We don’t have to take the photos in my room, I’m open to whatever you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yeah yeah..” he nods, taking in the lacey sheer frilly garments splayed out before him. Glancing between the heavy sweats and hoodie you have pulled on covering any bit of scandalous flesh.

Of course you’re covered up, with cool icy air filling the room, silently blasting from a vent above. The sweat pouring off his skin immediately evaporated after being welcomed inside. “What type of theme did you want to stick with?”

“Hmm,” swinging a stringy pair of panties around your index finger, your head tilts thoughtfully. “Summer? I guess baby oil, suns out buns out type of vibe.”

Jaemin clears his throat, twisting his eyebrows up asking if he can take a look through your drawers. “Do you have ice cream by chance?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Flavor?”

“Strawberry popsicles, I think I have some Vanilla Bean too. Are you hungry?”

Turning back to face you, he holds up a two piece micro white bikini. “I have an idea, I’m thinking out on the balcony would be best.”

Jaemin’s very professional considering the lack of experience on his resume. He asks permission before touching anything, double checks that you’re comfortable with any of his suggestions. For an Alpha, he’s kept cool and collected, even as you start to disrobe. The bathing suit he handpicked doing little to nothing to subside less than pure thoughts from unraveling. He gulps, forcing himself to focus on pretending to set the camera up.

Suddenly he was beginning to understand why Jeno’s been dropping absurd amounts of money to jerk off to your content.

“Is this okay?”

His eyes drag up slowly, from your manicured white painted toenails, up the expanse of glistening oiled up skin leading to your pressed together thighs where a miniature triangle shape conceals nothing in-between.

“Uhh..” he salivates, lapping at the roof of his mouth like a thirsty dog.

“Jaemin?” Your tone changes from one of concern to amusement, continuing to spritz your hair with water for a wet summer look.

“You look great.” He nods rapidly, quickly averting his attention to your chest jiggling beneath two tied together triangles with each movement you make. “Sorry, was just a little surprised.”

“You must be mated?”

Jaemin blinks, taken aback by your forwardness, shaking his head before words can exit his dry tongue. “Not at all, why would you think that?”

“Oh, you’re well-mannered, for an Alpha.” You note, shrugging and gesturing to the deck area. “How should I pose?”

“Let’s get some close-up shots first.” Jaemin directs you to catch sunlight draping streams of golden rays across your face. Half shadowed and lit up by the natural light. Instructing you to slowly unwrap one popsicle and take your time to suck on it.

“I think you’ll really like these.” The click click of his camera continues, zooming in to capture your lips pouting around sugary red liquid dripping down under the heat of your mouth paired with hot weather. “Let it spill.”

Growing confident with his position, Jaemin motions for you to hold the popsicle above your parted lips, allowing the treat to pour down your throat. The majority of it missing, staining white lycra fabric stretched over your breasts.

“You’re getting hot right?” He switches to record, nodding to the lounge chair for you to sit on. “Cooling off with a popsicle?”

“Mhmm”

Jaemin stays silent, capturing the wet droplets of red passing down your abdomen to land between your thighs. He lets you pose lewdly, tracing the popsicle down to melt against your bikini bottoms, lighting up hot where your cores melted the fabric to you like a second skin.

“I’m so hot, Alpha.” Hazy eyes and a tempting tone mesmerize the man behind the camera, sinking down to squat and zoom in on slick gushing out onto your spread inner thighs. “Need you to cool me off.”

You rub the popsicle up and down, pushing against the crease that's melted into your dripping wet slit. The red dye used in the treat leaves a stain of sweetness on your bottoms. The white bleeding out into a pink the more it melts, left to wither down to nothing but a wooden stick with a phrase that reads “Today is your lucky day!” hidden under the frozen liquid that’s altered your swimsuit.

Jaemin clenches his teeth to contain a muffled curse. Twitching inside the confinement of his jeans as you arch up higher, pushing your chest up. Round mounds call to his tongue, sticky and wet from oils and sweat.

“Hmm, no I was thinking more like..” The Alpha seems more heated now, possibly from the sweltering heat burning down on your backs. Possibly from the close proximity or the obscene positions you’ve fallen into under his command. He scoops two digits into the tub of melted Vanilla ice cream, lifting them to your lips to lap at. Camera shutters sound as your tongue swirls, sucking some of the sweetness while the rest trickles out pouring down your chin to your exposed chest.

“That’s good,” he whispers, scooping more to dribble down your cheeks and breasts. Watery white cream creates a more lewd image, paired with heavy eyelids shielding your seductive gaze.

“Tell me what to do, Alpha.”

“Turn around.” He instructs, nodding in approval when you get onto all fours and crane your neck for more direction. You’re a natural, he thinks, propped with your ass up at a perfect angle. The sun hitting just right to define the dip in your back and heady gaze staring back at him.

Jaemin can’t believe it when his free hand reaches for the tub of ice cream, pouring the remnants down to land in globs on your buttcheeks. The indecency in front of him feels like a punch to his gut, having to snap photos of the cream trickling down the back of your thighs. The sight before him more pornographic and delicious than he can fully process.

He croaks for you to spread, losing his cool demeanor as your knees slide further apart, playing with the thin strings on your hips. The flossy material cuts between the meat adorning your hips and backside, squishing the shiny delicacy displayed.

“Alpha..” you breathe, falling to your side to give him a full visual of your body lines. Dips and curves shadowed like art with sun rays sliding across your skin.

Jaemin debates with himself, thoughts spiraling that you could just be acting, or you could actually be calling for him to do something. To make the first move, to touch you where you begin to part and show off glistening slick dripping down to the backs of your thighs.

“You’re doing really good.” He swallows, mercilessly throbbing inside of his boxers. “How far are you—..”

He drawls off, following the pathway your digits make between your covered folds. Chest rising and falling rapidly as more sweat sprinkles down from the back of his neck to pool at the dips on his lower back.

“Alpha.”

Jaemin thinks he’s imagining your saccharine vocals whining for him, each letter passing through his ears like dry cotton. Snapping out of it as the heel of your foot nudges his knee, trailing up to rest your toes just where his pants have begun to tent out.

“Uhhh..”

“Alpha, I’m so hot.” You tease, sucking sticky ice cream residue off your fingers. “Won’t you cool me down?”

He wonders what his breaking point will be, fingers shaking around his camera more and more with each photo snapped.

“We’re losing light.” He mutters to save his ass, biting at the back of his tongue to prevent himself from getting fired by unleashing the amount of impure thoughts racing through his mind.

“Do you need a ride home?” Sitting up, your demeanor swaps in an instance, returning to the relaxed mood you had prior to the shoot.

Jaemin’s breath lodges, head shaking as he swiftly adjusts his shirt to hang lower before his crotch before standing up. “All good, no worries.”

“I’m a mess.” You laugh, sporting an expression of disgust while swiping a towel up and down your arms. “Are you sure? I can call you a cab.”

Jaemin refuses to meet your gaze, too embarrassed with his cheeks lit aflame by heat and mortification. He waves breezily, beginning to pack up his belongings. “No worries, I don’t live too far.”

He’s lying, and dreading the long journey back home that will drain his the minimal energy he has left with this humid heat.

“Here, I’ll grab you some water bottles to take for the trip.”

He keeps calm, situating his fully hardened length beneath the hem of his jeans when you turn away. Covering that he’d begin editing tonight and send you the final products as soon as possible.

“Get home safe.” You smile, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “If any Omega catches you sporting wood on the subway, they’ll have you arrested for being such a pervert.”

Jaemin’s cheeks burn bright red with his hand stilling in the air to wave goodbye. A girlish laugh follows as you wave him goodbye and close your door to shower off the remnants of sweet ice cream sticking to your skin. The image of big round eyes full of lust paint the back of your mind, memorizing thick fingers smearing a treat on your chin.

“These turned out great.”

Jaemin’s back, pep talking himself up on the way over to your place to stay cool. Money’s on the line here.

“I really like your style.” You say, browsing through the photos Jaemin took of you yesterday. Too distracted to give you his full attention as he once again admires your absurdly large fully furnished penthouse.

“You even have a PS5..” he mumbles under his breath. Tugging tufts of thick black hair through his fingers trying to calculate just how small his shared apartment is in comparison.

“Oh yeah, a subscriber sent me that,” you wave off like it’s not big deal. Choosing the best shots to use for a new set only your top tier fans would be able to immediately view.

Jaemin can feel his heart drop down to his gut, nearly losing his footing. “You didn’t even have to pay for that?! There’s no way you can afford all of this from just doing Omega fans!”

Snickering, you wink at him, nodding to a stack of packages waiting to be delivered. “Of course not, merch is where the real money comes from.”

“Merch?? Wha—“

“Oh you know, worn underwear, bottles of slick, a mold of my pus—“

“WHAT?” Jaemin has to laugh, pushing hair completely away from his forehead as the skin wrinkles down the middle. In disbelief that Alphas could really be this desperate. As if his best friend isn’t one of the many dropping money every month just to ruin and discard another innocent tube sock.

“It’s a lucrative career, believe it or not.”

“Respectfully, like, ballpark..”

“$90-100k every month.” You inform him eagerly. “Already planned my early retirement.”

“A MONTH?” Jaemin sits back landing against one of the stools lined up by your kitchen island. Hearing those numbers made his head spin, shocked enough to wonder how Alphas could be this stupid. How his own best friend is one of them. “How much do your highest patreons get charged monthly?”

“Highest tier is $100, you catch more bears with honey.”

Jaemin’s eyes bulge, gripping onto the counter ledge, seething between his teeth. “Jeno.”

“Jeno?”

He grunts, gripping hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. “My friend, he’s one of your subscribers.”

“Hmm..is he cute???” You ask, amused by the Alpha in front of you losing his professional composure.

“Uh,” Jaemin snaps, shaking his head, trying to calculate how much money his roommate has dropped on your website for the last two years. “God we could have a better A/C unit..”

Looking up at your lost stare, he shakes his head again, waving a hand and standing up. “Yeah, I guess he’s cute, for a freaking idiot.”

“Maybe you can bring him over next time.” You say, cocking a brow suggestively.

Jaemin pauses, reaching to pack up his camera bag. “Next time?”

“See,” moving closer, you take a hold of his wrist. “My fans, they have requests.. but it’s been hard to find attractive young Alphas I can trust.”

“What type of requests?” Jaemin sits back down, crossing his arms. The white short sleeve t-shirt he’s wearing struggles to contain his biceps. Growing stronger and thicker after hauling around heavy camera equipment everyday.

“I have a high roller, ironically a CEO of a well known heat suppressant company.” You start to explain, snorting at the job title. “He’s been begging for months to make this specific content during my heat.”

“Right, and what exactly is he asking for?”

“Just your run of the mill Alpha gangbang.” You say nonchalantly, making the Alpha sat before you splutter.

“What?!?”

“He’s offered to pay $100,000.” You nod. Jaemin has to gulp, head spinning again in disbelief that anyone could be that horny.

“That’s insane.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Sighing, Jaemin shrugs contemplating if anyone would pay for naked photos of him in obscene positions. “My roommate would probably film that with you for free.”

“I’d pay you, of course..” you say, tilting your head curiously to observe his next reaction. Met with a pair of wide shocked eyes, he babbles, laughing awkwardly.

“Me?!” Jaemin’s laugh grows in pitch, slowly losing volume the more he thinks about it. “..how much?”

“How much do you want? I’m willing to negotiate.”

“That’s..” he huffs, blinking in disbelief. “You’re joking right? Just messing around with me?”

“Not at all, Alpha,” with a sneaking grin, you click the camera next to him to turn on. Shifting closer once the red light brightens up, the lense moves around letting out sounds as it focuses on your figures. “We can start slow..”

Jaemin gulps, feeling the proximity between your lower regions grow sparse. Returning to grip onto the ledge of the island at his side where the camera sits capturing just enough of your lips and chests. Inching closer together as you straddle his lap and drape your arms over his broad shoulders.

He gulps to calm the tremor running through his throat, unused to an Omega making the first move. “Me? Y-you want to film content with me??”

“Depends,” you settle onto his lap with a smirk. Easing closer until your crotch presses directly where he’s began to grow. “How much?”

Jaemin shivers, choking on a trail of spit lodged at the back of his mouth. You had already paid him more than enough for some amateur photos taken around your place with little to no effort from himself.

But the prospect of thousands of dollars entering his bank account from only sleeping with a very attractive Omega is more than enough to entice him. Nodding, he mumbles a number without confidence. Reminding himself in the back of his mind that a few thousand dollars can’t be more than mere chump change to you.

“Sounds good.”

Jaemin grabs onto your hips when you agree to the amount. Canting upward to bounce you against the bulge pushing through the seam of his jeans.

Jeno was going to kill him.

“Jeno?” Jaemin steps inside of his boiling hot apartment, kicking off his shoes to a pile with his roommates. The low brrr from his fan sounds, coming from the other Alphas bedroom. “He seriously better not have left that on, running up the damn electric bill as if we need that.”

Jaemin doesn’t expect to find his friend hunched over at his computer, headphones hanging on his neck with wide eyes blaring at the screen before him. “Oh, you’re home.”

“Traitor!” Jeno snaps, lunging up at his roommate, toppling over his gaming chair in the process.

“Jeno! What the fuck! Get off of me!” Jaemin scrambles, his grip slipping off the other Alphas soaked skin. He grunts, pressing his knee into the others firm abdominal muscles to keep him in place.

“You fucked my favorite Omega?!”

“Oh my god! She uploaded it already??” Jaemin’s speechless, caught off guard by the news momentarily enough to receive a slap across his face.

“I can’t believe you!”

“We didn’t fuck! Get off of me!”

“No!” Jeno slaps him again, tussling back and forth on the ground until Jaemin manages to get the upper hand and lock him in place with his bicep lodged against his neck.

“If you kill me, you’ll never get to meet her.”

Jeno’s head lifts, ears perking up like a puppy hearing a can of food begin to open. “What?!”

“Are you going to calm down now, pup?” Jaemin sneers, pushing off using the back of his hand to wipe away sweat that's pouring from his forehead.

Jeno groans, pushing to stand back up, he motions to the screen where a video showing the side of his roommate’s face has been paused. “How did this happen!”

“She hired me to photograph her.” Jaemin begins to explain, rubbing at his sweaty nape. “I don’t know, okay? But..”

His gaze skirts between Jeno and the screen. “Did you watch it already?”

“I was about to! Until I saw your fucking giant teeth show up, was like a nightmare. I had to stop the video before it could get any worse.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed. “Don’t be so dramatic. Could you play it? I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I probably look so stupid..”

Jeno clicks his tongue annoyed, setting his chair back into place to get comfortable. “Unfortunately you don’t. Your dick looks huge too.”

Jaemin smirks, flicking the shell of Jeno’s ear. “Thought you didn’t watch it, liar.”

“I can’t believe this!” Jeno exclaims, clicking the video to play again.

“We didn’t even fuck.” Jaemin leans closer with elbows on his knees. “Honestly it felt so fast, I can’t believe I did that.”

Jeno continues to badger his friend with questions, ripping at his hair as the video goes on. The last thing he expected to see was a familiar face when he got the notification of a new upload featuring your Alpha neighbor assisting you through your pre-heat.

“God, she’s so hot.” Jeno groans, slamming the back of his head against the cushion, one of his hands sneaking beneath the waistband of his shorts out of Jaemin’s line of sight. Too caught up in the video playing to even notice.

It should feel weird to watch himself, to watch you touching him. To see the nervous way his throat bobs up and down the closer you lean in, bumping the tip of his nose with yours as you whisper too quietly for him to not feel nervous.

‘The Alpha next door stopped by,’ you announce for the viewers, toying with Jaemin’s shirt off screen.

“Pft..” Jeno huffs under his breath, squinting at the way you bat your eyelashes toward Jaemin. Flirting with him by giggling, tapping your nails against his jaw on the way to pinch his chin. Falling into a syrupy pretty octave the more you taunt him by repeating ‘Alpha Alpha Alpha’.

Should’ve been me, he thinks, thumbing at the precum that’s filled up his slit.

Jaemin’s undeserving, he doesn’t even know what you want, how you like it. Jeno eyes the kitchen counter, imagining how fast he would have bent you over, tugging on his length eagerly. The gasp you let out as you grind down on Jaemin repeats loudly in his thoughts.

Jaemin’s squirming, ashamed by how stunned he appears on video, too wanton and helpless for an Alpha who should have been taking more control. He let you play with him like a toy, rolling your hips back onto his lap to gain a full erection prodding into your backside.

‘So big Alpha.’

“Can’t believe she fucked you.”

Jaemin clears his throat, swiping his palm across the puffy bulge forming between his thighs. “We didn’t, yet..”

“You won’t.” Jeno says more brazenly, teeth slicing his bottom lip in an attempt to control his rage from toppling over. “You know how much I like her.”

“You and hundreds of thousands of other Alphas.”

“Whatever. Can’t fucking believe this.” Jeno groans, letting out a long dramatic sigh. “My dicks getting soft from watching this, I don’t think I can forgive you for this one.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, letting out a sound of disgust when his friend wipes off his palm on his thigh. “You’re gonna wanna hear me out, and also owe me for this.”

“I doubt it.”

“She asked about you.”

Jeno’s head snaps to attention at that, just in time to miss Jaemin’s grunts passing from his computer speakers. “What??”

“I mentioned that you’re a fan.” Jaemin cringes at the visual of himself on a big screen reaching climax. His face rolling side to side on your shoulder, panting like some teenager experiencing their first rut. The blush on his cheeks high, making its way up to his earlobes burning red. Cumming without penetration like some horny pup, the number of viewers over 60,000 already after only an hour up.

“And?!?”

Jeno’s excited bounce snaps him out of his humility— reminding him that his roommate would have paid for an opportunity like this.

“She asked if any of my friends would be interested.”

“Oh my God!!” Jeno stands up, jumping in place as if he just received the best news ever— in his case, he probably just did. “Oh my God! No! You don’t understand!!”

The dark haired Alpha begins to pace, gathering tufts of hair with blown out pupils. “I’ve dreamt about this for so long! I did this! This is happening because of me!”

Jaemin sports a bored look, listening to his roommate ramble on about how he always knew he’d end up fucking you, he just didn’t know how or when, until now.

“That’s great dude, I guess. I’ll text her, but please do not mention that you’ll be more than happy to do this for free. We need the mo—“

Knocks boom from the entrance distracting the two from continuing their conversation.

“Hey! Open up! This tub of ice is heavy!”

“It’s Haechan.” Jeno announces, unlocking the front door to the miserable expressions his neighbors dawn. “Sup?”

“Let us use your fan? We offer bags of ice.”

They end up huddled seated on the floor complaining about how badly they all need to figure out how to either make more money, or move out.

“Maybe the four of us could split a mortgage for a house.” Renjun mewls over rubbing his chin. “A house with central air ideally.”

Jaemin eyes the three Alphas surrounding him, a melancholic desperation to enjoy their short days of summer left drags their lips down, frowns paired with desperation to do anything to better their situations.

It’s almost too perfect.

Jeno’s hunched over, sharp eyebrows never loosening up, licking at the corners of his mouth annoyed.

“Can you believe while we were sitting swamp ass in misery— Jaemin was fucking my favorite cam girl?!” Jeno blurts out before his roommate can recall the actual events that took place.

“We didn’t do anything like that, but..” Jaemin takes in his friends intrigued stares, nervously mumbling. “She’s looking for Alphas..”

Renjun’s brows twist, inching closer with interest. “For what?”

“To film content.”

Haechan pours another bag of ice into the bucket they’ve plotted before a fan, huddled together too close for comfort, occasionally brushing sticky skin against sticky skin. The cool breeze only enough to prevent them from overheating while still secreting sweat as they hold up personal fans to their faces and suck on half-melted Icee slushies.

“Content?” He raises a messy eyebrow, speaking into the spinning fan to alter his voice. “Doesn’t she do porn?”

“Jeno’s a big fan, must be good.” Renjun adds.

“Jeno is a horny dog,” Jaemin scoffs, ignoring the upset gasp his best friend releases. “I mean, I understand why he pays.”

“I pay and somehow you are the one getting a handjob..” Jeno mutters, more than annoyed still. Despite his anger, he still watched the video you posted with Jaemin a few more times. “She only fucks Alphas with notoriously big dicks. Should have been me.”

“Mine’s bigger than yours anyway.” Jaemin laughs, licking away sweat from his upper lip. “Listen, I know you guys are all as strapped for cash as I am.”

“Cash? Oh, I’m listening.” Haechan interrupts, tugging on the ring of his collar that’s dampened nastily with sweat.

“When you say notoriously big..” Renjun drawls, leaning back against a wall, pushing his hand-held fan beneath his shirt. “How big is big?”

“Bigger than you shrimp shit.” Jeno jeers, clicking his tongue arrogantly. “I seriously need to quit this college shit, I could make bank doing Alpha fans.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, too drained by the heat to put up a fight. “You’re a baboon.”

“Whatever.” Jeno ignores his name calling with a dreamy look in his eyes. “The first time I stumbled into one of her streams, she was testing out how fat of a knot she could take.”

Haechan’s head lifts suddenly more intrigued by this topic. “…..well?”

“I’ve never seen an Omega take a knot like her, ever.” He confirms, boasting about how your streams are always at the top of the Omega fans charts. “The coins never stop pouring in when she goes live. She’s always in the top 0.1% on Omega fans, I like to think my monthly subscription helps.”

“This is bullshit.” Jaemin cuts him off. “Look, I made enough in two days to cover 3 months of rent. If we help her out I think.. we could leave this shithole complex. I’m tired of these excuses for why maintenance can’t fix our ancient A/C units.”

“I’d do it for free.” Jeno says, earning a smack to the back of his head from Renjun.

“That’s why you are a baboon.”

“I’m in.” Haechan nods. “I can’t survive another summer like this, I can’t even do another week of this.”

“I mean..” Renjun grimaces. “Like, full nude? My whole dick out?”

Jaemin snaps his fingers for Jeno to whip out his phone, the four proceeding to watch the clip you made with the Alpha as their jaws hang to the floor.

“Oh, I’m so in.”

Jeno’s been running around like a puppy full of life, hopping into the air kicking his feet together letting out high pitched squeals.

“I even shaved my sack for this!” He exclaims, gripping onto Jaemin’s shoulders on their trek out of the subway station.

“Were we supposed to do that?” Haechan asks, taking a look at his worn down raggedy clothing. “I thought the idea was supposed to be.. we’re broke college guys.”

“That is the idea.” Jaemin answers, directing his group of friends into an upscale neighborhood decorated with lively tall trees and blooming gardens. “It’s all an act, we’re supposed to be her ‘neighbors’…and she’s this innocent sweet Omega who we take advantage of during her heat.”

Haechan bites back a smile nudging into his side, thoughts running rampant. “That’s hot.”

“No fucking way, is this seriously where she lives?” Renjun’s neck practically breaks from leaning back to take in the giant building towering before them.

“Yup, high-rise penthouse overlooking Seoul. The lifestyle horny idiot Alphas provide.” Jaemin glares at Jeno who beams with the brightest smile engulfing his eyes.

“She deserves all of it, and more.” Letting out a dreamy sigh he follows along to where Jaemin has to check-in at the front concierge to be allowed further inside. The four confirming their identification before passing along to the elevators.

“This is insane, I couldn’t even sleep last night, and when I can’t sleep, I jerk off!” Jeno complains in the lift. “But I didn’t want to waste— you know! So I ended up tossing and turning all night.”

“You’re worse than those kpop fans that follow around idols and trainees.” Renjun accuses, feeling jittery still about stripping down to nothing to hook-up with a stranger for thousands of viewers, maybe even millions. “This is my lowest low, and you’re about to cum in your pants.”

“I think you lowest low was popping your first knot in Science class when we learned about Omega anatomy.” Haechan grins. “You can’t live that down.”

“Shut up!” Renjun whines, the elevator dinging to upon reaching your floor. The three Alphas stare at the opened doors, gulping in unison before Jaemin signals for them to follow his lead.

“I would say don’t be nervous but,” he shakes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m fucking nervous right now.”

“Dude! You can’t be nervous! What about us?!” Haechan bemoans, gesturing to the three hiding behind the blond Alphas broad frame.

“Think about the money.” Renjun nods, reapplying chapstick to his lips that can’t seem to retain enough moisture. “This hallway alone has more square footing than our apartments combined.”

“Think about the pus—!” Jeno starts to holler, stopping in his tracks as the front door they stand before opens up revealing a face that’s become deeply ingrained in his mind. “Holy shit.”

Jaemin’s eyes shut, smiling and lifting a hand to greet you, internally cursing. “That would be your loyal subscriber.”

“Wow,” leaning against the door frame, you take in the new faces in front of you. The three sporting similar expressions with their jaws hung loose, wide-eyed and breathless. “You didn’t mention that they’re all so cute.”

Jaemin grins, motioning to his friends. “This is Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno, or as you know us, miserable sweaty Alphas willing to do a lot for money.”

“How much is a lot?” You ask slyly, purposely dressed down with a pair of loose sweats on and a loose top to play up a relaxed stay-at-home look for the filming.

“I’ll do anything!” Jeno blurts, slapping a palm over his mouth. “I mean.. my limits are very low.”

“Funds too.” Renjun whispers.

“Understood.” Standing straight, you hold up an index finger. “There is one thing, my funders have a common request. Come on in and we’ll see if you guys fit the criteria.”

The criteria: no one under 9 inches.

Haechan’s throat bobs reading over the contract you’ve printed four copies of. Rubbing his nape that feels cold from sitting in a room with blowing cool air. “I have to admit, I’ve never measured..”

“I have!” Jeno licks at his canines cockily, biting off the cap of a pen to spit off to the side. “11 inches long, and thicker than a bowl of oatmeal.”

“Wait wait!” You laugh, pulling out your phone to speed-dial your highest roller. “Need you guys to show me what you’re working with before we can sign off.”

Renjun’s eyes round, sticking halfway out of their sockets. “Like, right now??”

“Now or never.” Pointing the camera to face them, you nod for them to go on.

Jeno’s the first to jump to his feet, already half mass confined in a well fitted pair of black sweats. “I have nothing to lie about.”

True to his word, he pushes his boxers and sweats beneath his upper thigh in one fell swoop. His length falls free slapping onto the cotton fabric underneath , jerking mid-air, the fat pink tip darkening the longer he sits and waits to live out his wildest dreams.

“Very good.” A low deep voice emits from your phone’s speaker. “Bigger than the blond even.”

Jaemin’s head snaps up at that, squinting while sneaking a look to his side with an annoyed pout. “That’s not true!”

“The other two.” Says the voice, clearly coming from a male.

Haechan shares a pleading look with Renjun, moving to stand, waiting for the other to do the same. Huffing out a deep sigh, he hoists himself up sluggishly, tugging on the strings dangling in front of his groin.

“Well..” Haechan shrugs, smiling timidly as he unzips and draws himself out with a stroke at his soft size “I’m a grower..”

Renjun’s cheeks puff out, repeating money money money in his mind as he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls his length free.

“They can stay. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself too much.” The Alpha hiding on your phone screen chuckles. “Can’t wait to see what they do with you.”

Hanging up after hearing the approval, you hide a smile behind your hand taking in Renjun up and down. “Cute.”

“Did you just call my dick cute?!” He squawks, frazzled as he tucks himself away.

“You are really cute!” Haechan intervenes, throwing an arm around his roommate's shoulders, whispering ‘money’ with a pointed glare.

“The idea is that I’m in pre-heat,” you motion carelessly, beginning to stretch your limbs where you’re seated. “That’s the idea, but I actually am in pre-heat, so it works out great.”

“Oh, that’s..” Jaemin collects the signed contracts, gnawing on his upper lip. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Shrugging, you wave him off. “Don’t worry about it, I might get a little..”

Jeno’s practically salivating the more you continue to talk, all too familiar with how crazed and desperate for Alpha cock you get during your heats. His fingertips burn from rubbing up and down his thighs like a maniac, slurping at the drool gathering at the sides of his tongue. An overwhelming sensation of dizziness and lust replaces any semblance of sense as he sits across from you.

“Jeno?” Jaemin snaps his fingers, breaking the Alpha from his mesmerized trance. “Come on.”

“What??”

“I have to start setting up, were you not listening?”

“Uhh..” Jeno looks lost, flushed from the tip of his nose down to his pink chewed lips, causing Jaemin to grunt and grab on to the other to drag him out of the room.

“She’s gonna start with Haechan and Renjun first.” He reiterates, smiling to himself. “Because they’re smaller.”

Renjun fumed when you felt the need to mention that, pinching at Haechan’s forearm to control his temper. Humiliation that thousands of strangers would be watching him bare ass already had him regretting agreeing to this, now even more with you mocking his size for not being big enough.

“Should we step out then?” Haechan gestures toward the entrance, smoothing out the wrinkles on his t-shirt nervously. Everything becoming much more real now that he’s seconds away from hooking up with a stranger— not that this would be his first time, but on camera suddenly made things feel much more high-stress and real.

“Yeah, why don’t you guys show up saying your air conditioners not working.” You suggest, turning on the various cameras you have around your apartment for weekly live streams. “Don’t worry about acting really, it’s not that serious.”

Renjun follows after his friend, shifting about anxiously, muttering that he can’t stop the tremors running through his hands.

“We have sex all the time.” Haechan says, furrowing his eyebrows. “Okay, we have had sex. Maybe not a lot. Don’t think too hard, she’s an attractive Omega close to her heat, and I’m here..”

Renjun nods, rapping his knuckles against the door with a deep shaky breath.

“Hey?” You answer, ruffling your hair with a groggy look as if you’ve just woken up.

“Oh! Hey!” Haechan utters, waving awkwardly. “Hope we didn’t wake you! Our air stopped working a bit ago.”

“That’s terrible, it’s so hot out.” You groan, faking a yawn, tugging on the collar of your t-shirt to play up how hot you feel even inside of your chilly quarters. Renjun observes how well you fall into the ditzy cute innocent Omega you must portray on camera for your fans, pouting and whining at the end of each word like a petulant little brat.

“You think we can crash with you while the maintenance team works on it?” Renjun cocks an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leans against your door frame.

“Ah, it’s kind of..” words stumble out alternating between whiny sounds as you attempt to think up an excuse. “I—….okay..”

Spinning on your heel, you offer them something to drink as they situate in your living room, seated on the couch they’d filled out their contracts at. “Thanks!” Haechan calls out, picking up a remote to scroll through the TV guide for something to watch.

Renjun glances back and forth suspiciously, his nose twitching, falling into character with more ease than he’d envisioned to be able to. “Hey, is it just me or she..”

“Oh, she definitely is.” Haechan says confidently, setting an arm behind his head with a grin pinching at his lips. “Why else do you think she hesitated to let us come in?”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

The two share a sneaking look, settling at opposite ends of the couch to leave you with no choice but to sit between them when you show up with a tray of beverages.

“Oh..”

Neither seem interested in your presence, both lazily sprawled against the arm rests with their focus on the tv.

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” Haechan asks, throwing the remote aside. “Nothing to watch.”

“You guys can play..” you sigh, eyeing the small space you’ve been left with to sit between the two Alphas. Stuffy and cramped as you adjust to seat without trying to touch either of them.

“Nah, Renjun’s a sore loser. He complains way too much because I always win.” Haechan mumbles, holding one of the controllers out for you. “I’m sure you’ll be good.”

“What if I lose?”

The browns coloring Haechan’s iris gleam, speckled by different shades of orange and gold, inching closer until his lips sit centimeters away from yours. “If you lose..”

Renjun licks at his lips behind you, trailing his eyes down your back, becoming curious as to what you have hiding beneath the oversized t-shirt you probably slept in.

Haechan straightens up, blowing out a breath across your mouth. “..if you lose—you’ll sit on my lap the next round.”

“Next round?”

“Yeah,” he leans back, falling into a confident demeanor as he chooses to play as Yoshi. “Winner takes all.”

Princess Peach failed to even end up in the top 5 after the amount of times you swerved and smacked into the race track walls. The two Alphas at your sides hiding their and amused laughter with coughs the more you struggled and grew frustrated, wanting to hurdle the controller at a wall.

Haechan doesn’t say anything as music signals for the next round, spreading open his thighs to make room for you, he nods toward his lap with a silent command.

“I don’t think I can play again.” You say, feigning exhaustion by slumping back into the couch.

Renjun leans over, pinching your chin between two fingers to force your gaze up. “That’s not really fair is it, princess?”

A lazy hand lands around his wrist, pulling his fingers down lower to land on your throat. “I’m too hot.. can’t focus..”

“Come on princess, you know the rules here. You agreed to play, now you have to follow through.”

Haechan’s nose finds the column of your throat, gripping onto your waist to pull you onto his lap. “Stupid Omega letting the big bad wolves inside when her heats about to start.”

“No— no, Haechan, don’t..”

“Shh, you knew what you were doing.” Renjun squeezes your throat, shaking your neck with a tight hold. “Dripping right through your underwear as if we couldn’t smell you from down the hall. Don’t play dumb now, Omega.”

“I c-can’t..”

“Why are you lying, huh?” Haechan asks, pushing your ass down against his crotch. “Besides, when did I ask?”

“Don’t lie pretty, the more you lie, the more this will hurt.” Renjun catches your bottom lip just as Haechan slips his fingers past the top of your sweats, lowering slowly to cup your heat, letting out a grunt on your shoulder when he’s met with slick spilling out past the seat of your panties. Inner thighs coated with a mess of sweet delicious wetness dripping out of your hole like a broken faucet.

“No—no, not there, please..” Your pleading only makes them laugh, Renjun letting out a bitter chuckle as he releases his hardening shaft. Stroking up and down right before your face to give you a clear view of how thick and long he sits at full mass.

“So cute, right?” He taunts, shifting onto his knees on the couch to set his hips near your face. “Little brats like you think you can always get your way.”

Haechan slips in past your underwear, quietly cursing into your nape at the amount of slick dribbling between his digits. In disbelief that you’re this wet already, that they haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re drenching his crotch through your sweats.

“That little act you put on crumbles the second you see Alphas cock baby.” Renjun’s fingers trail up from your throat to your chin, thumb latching onto your bottom lip to pull it down. Drool gathers at the corners, trickling it’s way out down to your jaw to meet his digits that press harder. “Tell Alphas what you need, don’t fucking lie.”

“Renjun, pl-please, don’t be mean.” You gurgle, lapping at his thumb shoving your lip back and forth.

He grins, pushing the pad of his thumb down until you give and let him in, resting against your tongue heavily until you let out a gagging sound and wrap your lips around him.

“All that useless begging, look at you right now.” He sneers, pushing three more fingers into your mouth with ease. “Just like that, so obedient and cute.”

Haechan’s panting, working his hips up in circles against your damp bottom. Relentless with his digits rubbing in a blur over your clit. Nipping and sucking on your throat to quill some of his arousal that shouts throughout his head to rip off your sweats and plant you on his length until you cry out, begging to get fucked.

“Renjun,” coughing around his fingers working in and out of your mouth, you gag again, copious amounts of drool fountaining out around his hand down to your collarbone. “Please.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

Renjun loves it, loves how easy it was to shut you up, make you grovel for his cute cock. Pleading to do anything to you, to make you feel good.

“Something, please please Alpha.”

“This what you want?” Teasing at his slit, he eyes you curiously, wrapping around the base of his length to stroke himself to full hardness. Chubbing up impressively, definitely not as cute as you’d perceived.

He teases the tip along your upper lip, layering a coat of thick precum there to blend with drool. “Show me what that pretty bratty mouth can do.”

He felt even bigger against your tongue, finally breeching past your lips after pulling back teasingly with each flick of your tongue at his slit. The playfulness rapidly diminished as he buried forward, suffocating your nose with the smooth skin beneath his navel.

Sucking and gagging became inevitable around the Alphas size stretching your lips open painfully. Letting out loud groans above you with each ragged breath blown through your nose against his skin, each sloppy slurp around his size. Vibrating out moans between struggling to breathe when Haechan’s fingers sank lower, tapping at your entrance with extra force as he pushed the elastic in your underwear to the limits to get three of his digits inside of you.

The tip of Renjun’s length brutally punching the back of your throat only spurred more wetness out, gliding Haechan’s fingers to bury deeper. Growling as he nipped at your earlobe about how nasty you are, getting turned on by sucking cock like a whore.

“Only real sluts get wet from sucking dick, you know what that makes you baby?”

Licking up the bottom of Renjun’s length, you nod, enjoying how he weighed down on your tongue. Lips swollen from each pointed movement further pushing your mouth to open wide and take his entire size, tearing up and coughing all the more even as you tried to slow him down. Hands uselessly flying to grip onto his thighs and plead with wide begging eyes for the Alpha to slow and let you breathe.

“Aww, not so cute anymore?“ he grins, pushing your hair back grabbing fistfuls with a tight lock of his fingers; commanding control by pushing you further down his shaft to take it all.

Renjun never gave your mouth a break, thrusting his hips forward with vigor to fill your throat over and over. Biting down to calm pleasured groans from exiting, not wanting you to know how much he was enjoying this. You needed to earn it.

“That’s it, that’s how slutty Omegas suck cock.” Haechan praised, licking at your earlobe. Thumb swiping your clit in rapid motion as his fingers continued to pump inside you. “Cum around my fingers, let me feel you squeeze up. Cumming from taking Alphas dick down your throat. You know who cums from that baby? Bratty little Omega whores.”

“Ah, fuck,” Renjun’s tough facade snapped, breaking into pieces when your eyes rolled back the more Haechan stroked between your walls. Hips stuttering to a halt as his upper lip trembles over his teeth letting out breathy whimpers. “G-gonna cum, ugh fuck.”

A few more weak thrusts had hot release pouring down your throat. Shots of hot cum hitting your tonsils as your thighs clenched up, jutting back against Haechan with your hands reaching to clutch his wrist, squirming and crying around Renjun’s length as your own release hit. Punching from your gut to your throat, convulsing in time with each other dragging out a long orgasm from Renjun, collapsing down to his knees leaving cum to trickle out onto your chin.

“Fuck.”

Haechan’s sucking his fingers clean, licking between each to not miss any bit of your sloppy release, his free hand working to pull off your ruined bottoms with Renjun stripping your top off. Breath knocked from their lungs upon seeing your bared skin, obscenely wet down to your knees, hazily staring at them standing above you as you try to recuperate.

Haechan’s tongue drags across his palm, gaze lit up by the fear passing over your face the longer they stand there observing you. He’s the first to move, bending over by his waist to get in your face, whispering out hotly. “Now, tell me something.”

A ruthless grip captures your mound as he distracts you, digging the heel of his palm against your tender clit. “What type of useless Omega are you? Haven’t made me cum once.”

“B-but, you said..”

Two fingers roughly crook inside inside, gliding in despite how swollen your folds have become, filled with blood pumping down between your thighs. Throbbing loud enough you swear you can hear it, emptying the parts of your brain that help you function, giving into the heat with each press he buries deeply, curling his fingers up until your back arches. Crooning between a shattered moan.

“I said?” His pretty soft eyes widen, precious like a stuffed plushie you’d cuddle through the night. Actions speaking louder than the false image he uses to taunt you more with. “What did I say? Huh? Suddenly you listen?”

“I listen!” You end up shouting, too shook up by the stinging smack landing on your inner thigh. Digits ripping free from your core, oozing out tendrils of thick slick obscenely.

“What do you think, Renjun?”

Renjun’s face gives off more purity than Haechan’s, the smile teasing at his lips so sweet and soft. Irises gleaming angrily, sleek and cold. The two of them quietly preparing to destroy you. “I think she hasn’t done shit to prove why we should fuck her again.”

“Is that right Omega?” Haechan rips your head back, spouting a line of spit inside of your parted lips, he smacks at your jaw, dragging you to move by pulling at your scalp. “Say it.”

“Wanna make you cum Alpha, wanna be good for you.”

Renjun’s throat lodges a bit from the needy way you stare between them, letting Haechan’s spit rest on your tongue, pushing it out through pursed lips. Sweat dampened hair, big wet eyes, bloated spit coated lips, and slick pouring from your hole in globs, absolutely pornographic. He considers— if he had the money, he’d pay for your content too.

“Good,” Renjun voices, sitting down to move you onto his lap. Shedding his clothes off while Haechan played with you, his cock pressed to your lower back, fully hard again. “Because I’m gonna knot your pretty little pussy.”

Suddenly he’s pulling you back onto his cock with one smooth glide. Scrambling to position yourself with feet scurrying to perch on his thighs. The sound that emits when he shoves in absolutely filthy— disgusting, choking a moan from between your lungs as you head tosses back again.

“What makes you think you deserve to cum again?” Renjun bites at the shell of your ear, thrusting up sloppily from the amount of slick pouring onto his thighs. Slapping the sides of yours until your legs completely bend, steadily planting your feet above his knees to prop you open for the other Alpha.

“I’ve been good!” You cry out, repeating a chant of ‘please please please’ like a prayer, head flopping back onto his shoulder harder when Haechan crawls forward on his knees spitting at your clit. Tongue smearing the mess lower, meeting with Renjun’s length stretching you open. Tongue curling around your clit as two fingers find way to your entrance, gathering the wetness spilling out around the other Alphas cock.

“Please!” Renjun grunts, hips slapping against your bottom, digging his nails into the backs of your knees. Straining to fuck you faster, groaning louder each time Haechan’s tongue laps slick off his length.

“You—haven’t earned it yet.” He grits, breathlessly cursing.

“Please! Let me—Alpha, please!” Eyes roll to the back of your head, shouting out, clenching your toes. “Ahh! Ah—ahh fuck!”

Haechan shoves three fingers inside of you as Renjun thrusts out, pushing in through the free space to prod at your insides. The slide of cock against his long calloused fingers setting off a stinging pain to your chest.

“So fucking tight.” The Alpha on his knees says proudly, working to match Renjun’s thrust. Not even bothering to give you time to adjust, he sets a snapping pace pummeling a path inside immediately. “Don’t think she should get to cum until she can take us both.”

“Hear that baby?” Renjun breathes, delivering a pointed thrust to emphasize what Haechan said, pistoning with more ferocity and anger. The tip of his cock catching on your painfully stretched entrance with each pull out. “Begged to get fucked like a slut, that’s what you think you deserve?”

Between Haechan’s warm breath blowing on your clit and Renjun’s unforgiving movements, endless pleads begging to cum spill from your tongue. The Alpha inside of you chasing after his climax faster while bouncing you up and down, fingers jamming in and out, cock lodged deep inside, tongue flicking your clit over and over again.

“Alpha! Please—please cum!”

“Where?” Renjun huffs, thrusting harder, blinking sweat away from his eyelashes. “Ask for it!”

He slaps at your thighs, beating the skin with wicked stings. Cracking dry whimpers from your throat as Haechan’s lips suck around your clit. “I-Inside! Please! Inside!”

Renjun’s throat locks up, chest heaving and squeezing tight making it harder to breathe, pushing deep past where Haechan’s fingers can reach inside of you. Struggling to keep up his speed as the base of his size expands, pushing through with teeth gritted, hips not slowing for even a second despite the new resistance gripping him. Cum bursts, spilling down around his length from the extra stretch inside of you, flowing down to the other Alpha’s wrist who licks it up, suckling up the nasty mess of slick and cum.

“A-alpha..please let me cum, please.” Desperation has you near the brink of insanity. Body full blown trembling in the weakened hold on your thighs.

Haechan smirks, tucking his fingers inside his mouth, pushing up with his free hand to spit the combined release on your chin and chest. “You really think you deserve to cum already? What about me?”

Haechan’s pushing one of your thighs up higher before you can even register what’s happening, weakened and overstimulated from being edged for too long. The tip of his length prods at your filled entrance, dragging over your swollen clit, dropping his forehead to yours as he begins to push in past the tight squeeze he’s met with.

The cries and whimpers you let out only encourage him, pressing in more as he holds his breath, sucking in his nostrils to restrain the need to cum. Making Renjun let out a pitiful grunt against your shoulder when he slides against the other Alphas size. Knot full grown making his brain spin from the stimulation rubbing against him.

“So fucking dirty.” Haechan says, shoulders tensed from trying to contain himself. Throbbing against the deathlock your walls wrap around him as he meets obstruction, blending with Renjun’s length beneath. “Fuck, so fucking dirty and messy.”

The ache burns painfully, worse than before, stinging the backs of your eyes with moisture that pushes out at the first thrust he gives. Gliding in and out of you easily with Renjun’s cum leaking down between his thighs. Haechan buries his size inside of you with pointed thrusts, doing it with extra force just to watch the tears pour from your eyes faster, just to hear your cries grow louder, pour from the walls like music reverberating out of speakers.

“Made to get fucked.” He mutters, licking at sweat and tears dangling from the tip of your nose. “Made to take Alpha cock like this, take it like a good Omega. Offering your holes to any Alpha, desperate for a fat knot, so fucking greedy you need two.”

“Hae-haechan—“ it’s barely a whisper, croaking from the back of your throat. Bounced down onto Renjun’s knot, getting hard again enough to compose himself and match up to Haechan’s pace even when it hurts him. Too lust ridden to stop himself when your ass bounces against his stomach. Firm strokes filling you up, rubbing against each other incessantly.

“Fuck, gonna cum.” He pants against your lips, tongue laving out like a hungry dog. Biting and sucking on whatever he can catch, leaving your mouth more swollen and bruised. “Make Alpha cum baby, wanna feel that pussy squeeze up again.”

Guiding a hand between your bodies, he thumbs at your over-sensitive clit again, sending shock waves of pleasure up your spine. Head jerked back onto Renjun’s shoulder, blabbering between your cries as you finally clenched around the two; orgasm barreling out of you sending a wave of electric shock up to your brain. The scream you let out echoing off the walls, permeating obscene wet squelches paired with the Alphas noisy grunts.

“A-ahh—“ Haechan’s head drops, knot ripping out around his base with one more thrust, locking him into place unable to move anymore as his cock weeps. Cum pouring out of him fiercely, endlessly streaming out. Only able to stay inside from the knots battling to keep you plugged up.

Renjun’s hips jump up just once, grinding upward letting out another release between a strangled groan that barely exits his lips.

“N-no no more, noo..” you hiccup, sobbing into the crook of Haechan’s neck. The ache in your legs gone numb from the overwhelming heat filling your gut, splayed out like a broken doll between the Alphas. Panting like animals stuck in humid heat that won’t allow you to catch your breath.

“Good Omega.” Haechan pecks wherever his mouth can reach, nudging his nose against your eyelid. “God, you’re so good.”

Renjun lets out a muffled sound agreeing, blowing hot air along the back of your shoulder.

“Thanks for..” Haechan grins, lip curling up wickedly. “Letting us come over.”

He’s not sure if he should kiss you, blinking up making direct eye contact with one of the various streaming cameras— he remembers that this isn’t live, opting to gently peck the tip of your nose. “You okay?”

“Mhm..” your eyes can’t seem to stay in place, as if the sockets have lost control of power, rolling back still too high off your climax. “Thank you Alphas.”

“Hey?” Jeno pokes into your bedroom, subtly ducking his chin in to hide the thrill painting his features upon seeing your set-up. Swallowing down a raspy cough, he glances around, smirking at the visual of your pink bedding. The room he’s dreamt of for months, weeks, days, restless nights awake stroking his cock to made-up fantasies of turning you around into multiple positions on this bed.

He’s calm, mostly, stealing looks around for where various cameras have been placed to capture different angles of what’s about to go down.

“Jeno?”

Your voice shivers up his spine, flaring his nostrils as he lets the scent of rose petals in your body wash lingering on your flesh circle around him. The prominent aroma of heat hits stronger than any amount of scrub and bubbles you used to cleanse your skin of Renjun and Haechan’s cum.

Honey.. sweet dripping honeycombs..

Jeno has to stop himself from sucking down a deep breath of slick gathering between your thighs. Muscles strain beneath the sweat soaked cotton material of his shirt, twitching while he tries to keep collected, turning to face you with an easy smile. “Jaemin sent me in to see if you’re ready for the photoshoot.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be coming too?”

Jeno shrugs, explaining his sweaty appearance by telling you the story of their broken air conditioner while you sort through a rack of scantily clad garments hung on silk hangers. He thinks it’s fitting, everything in your bedroom screams feminine, delicate and pretty, only adding more ideas in his mind of different ways he’d love to rip off your designer lingerie. His monthly fee had to contribute to your closet somehow.

“Everyone’s air conditioner’s breaking from these heatwave’s..” you mumble, shyly gripping tighter onto the towel wrapped around you.

“Do you feel uncomfortable with me being here?” Jeno questions, proceeding to carry on conversation as if red lights from the cameras couldn’t bother him in the least.

“A little,” you say, sparing him a coy look over your shoulder with a small wink. “Jaemin told me that you’re one of my subscribers. Maybe you can help me choose what to wear?”

Jeno’s mouth hangs open comically following your towel slipping off, immediately hit with a potent waft of your scent. He has to tighten his fist as his sides to stop from lunging at your bare backside. Stepping closer with thinning eyes to stand behind you, he digs at your shoulder with the tip of his nose. Hands finding the back of your waist to tickle at with light grazes.

“Why would you put something on?” He glowers, quietly speaking. “You think I won’t just rip it off of you?”

“Alpha, what are y-you..” Jeno’s instincts take over, already forgetting he’s here technically to work.

“I’ve been subscribed to you for a really long time.” He whispers for you, hoping the microphones Jaemin set up can’t pick up on his low rumble. “Is that weird?”

Jeno’s cute— kind of in the same way Renjun’s dick is cute, but even cuter. The calmest he’s been since arriving with the others just now, pheromones similar to an Alpha pup entering their first rut, even that aspect melted your chest, having to bite your tongue from over-complimenting the Alpha in the moment to keep the act going.

“Do you know how many of my subscribers wish they could fuck me?”

Jeno splutters, pinching his fingers into where your waist dips, bottom lip jutting out as he shakes his head.

“Every single one of them. Don’t let them down.. Alpha.”

He’s been waiting so long for this, even had to wait while his friends fucked you first. Chewing at his nails nervously while he sat out on the balcony with Jaemin, he thought about it, remembering each time you’d notice his messages in the chat and responded with a devilish smile.

“None of them have ever wanted you as much as me.” Jeno steps closer, positioning your chest against the wall with his hips circling against your backside holding you in place with one palm flattened on the curve in your spine. “None of them will ever fuck you the way I’m about to.”

“Alpha..” you say it in such a gentle tone, lowering down to the coquettish gamer girl voice that always makes payments drop into your account faster. Tongue hanging out for Jeno’s eyes to track, following the little wiggle you give before he snaps, darting forward to trap you between his lips.

It’s not a slow kiss, lacking rush as he savors tasting you for the first time. Just as sweet and tantalizing as he always imagined, better even; cherry flavored jolly rancher that he wishes could permanently stain his tongue with remnants of its flavor.

The Alphas strong build melts heavily against your back, trailing bony long fingers between your lower halves to tug himself free.

“F-fuck.” You gasp, planting your forehead against the wall, losing the hold around your tongue. Lips returning to an abused swollen state from the heated kiss.

“I know how you like it.” Jeno whispers, licking up your jawline to your earlobe, nipping as he slaps his length between the crevice of your ass. “I know how you love it.”

His shaft feels weighty on your bottom, slapping down landing with obscenely loud smacks the cameras could pick up on even without microphones. “How’s your pussy gonna take all this dick baby?”

Jeno already has your eyes rolling up, from the gravely rasp in his tone to his sheer mass pressing heavy on your body, forcing your nipples to scratch against the wall sending shrill sensations down to the gushing space between your thighs. “Thought you were a fan..”

“Oh I am.” Jeno clicks his tongue, kissing at the backs of his teeth. Bending at his knees to swipe between your buttcheeks. “Gonna fuck every part of you.”

He pushes between your thighs to emphasize, grunting like a beast against your nape. Excitement from before spiraling into the pure need to fuck and breed, fill you with pups before any other Alpha can.

Even between your thighs Jeno feels too thick, forcing your knees to bump into each other with each splitting thrust he gives. Pushing at his sweats haphazardly to relieve his balls of the heat swarming his skin, his Alpha taking over chanting to mate mate mate. Each slap of his hips screams against your backside, resounding an aggressive clap throughout your bedroom.

Jeno can hardly believe your slicks staining his sweats, leaking out for him, pussy folds draping around his size pleading to be filled. “My Omega, gonna be dreaming about my cock after this. On your knees for me, begging for Alpha to fuck you.”

The heat between your thighs becomes unbearable, jammed against his size viciously strumming your clit. Heavy palms cup your waist, riding you back and forth on his length faster, scrabbling at the wall.

Jeno shouts a string of curses, ripping away only to throw you down on the bed. Throat tight as he swiftly twists off his shirt. Pupils blown wide covered in black, a blush rising from the center of his chest to warm pink nipples, tracing the veins lining his throat to where his lips swell into a pout.

He stands proud following your heated gaze to his gleaming shaft standing tall, reaching the middle of his carved abdomen. Instinctively clamping your thighs together when he approaches, kicking his sweats off, smiling too adorably as he captures your thighs.

“What happened to being the queen of taking cock?”

Jeno lets out a giggle, a fucking giggle, amused by the sheer terror crossing your expression. Spreading your thighs apart, losing his stature when your heady scent hits him. Pussy insanely drenched leaving a puddled mess to create under your ass.

His length drapes down the center of your stomach, the tip landing just above halfway. Poking at your muscles twitching under his size. “That’s how deep I’m gonna fuck you.”

The need to claim you and make you his intensifies more, mesmerized by your hole twitching, pulsing around nothing. Your body screaming from anywhere to get fucked, for him to fuck you, that’s all Jeno can think. You need him to fuck you.

“Only I get to see you like this..” He says, jaw locking when he has to specify. “…out of all the Alphas who pay.”

The realization stirs up the Alphas primal hunger, desire overflowing to ruin you, ruin you for only him. Ensure that no one else will ever be good enough, no one else will ever satisfy you.

Jeno almost feels embarrassed as he circles the tip of his length on your entrance. Shivering from his thighs to where his throat bobs up and down. Prolonging teasing your hole only for his sanity— quietly pep-talking himself up to not cum in a minute, he hadn’t edged himself for hours into the night missing sleep over your videos to fuck up this chance.

After what feels like an eternity, he sucks down a deep breath lowering inch by inch into your sopping wet cunt. Lewd ridiculous sounds of wetness gush out around his fat size, walls clamping down sucking him in to move even faster. True to his word, your stomach extends when he sinks inside to the hilt, cock pushing your walls to a new stretch. Fiercely throbbing between your convulsing heat.

“Oh fu-fuck..” Jeno’s mouth drops open, his eyes rolling up as if this was his first time. Your pussy tightening around his size like a glove, the veins beating up and down his length molding to the shape of your insides. “So—so fucking tight.”

Jeno’s mewling, brain thoughtless to the cameras recording, not a care in the world about the amount of comments that would make fun of him. His reaction only confirming you weren’t just a pretty Omega for Alphas to shower with gifts, but the actual girl of his dreams. The fleshlight he discretely kept hidden under his bed from your merch site would never be able to compare.

He pulls out only to slam his cock back in, drowning in the way you spasm and clench around him. Pussy locked tight refusing to let go, knowing in the back of his mind he’d have you trained to take his size everyday, turn you into the perfect doll to sit on his cock.

The Alphas hands find your curved waist, dipping the pads of his fingers in to gain momentum. “So pretty, you’re so pretty.” He says between labored breaths, cock stroking in and out too rapidly, losing coherency too much to even understand him.

Jeno’s speed becomes punishing, caught up in his own crazed lust, determined to push cum far deep enough inside of you that you taste him in the back of your mouth.

Moans and whimpers soar off your tongue, head thrashing side to side as the Alpha lifts your ankles to his shoulders, pounding faster until you’re limp. Hanging boneless on his cock spearing all the way inside, bulging the skin around your navel out with each deep hit.

“Alpha..c-cum,” you babble breathlessly. Air knocked out of you with each unforgiving slide of Jeno’s length pushing your mind further away. “C-close, I—close.”

He nods, taking the initiative to fuck you with extra force until you’re shouting, gripping at the pillows above your head. The pillows he’s watched you ride and get off on countless amounts of times. Memories of cumming in the shower, at 3am in bed, even in the school bathroom resurface as his gaze takes in your breasts bouncing, clapping together from the impact of his body engulfing yours.

“Cum for your Alpha, cum for me baby.”

Your orgasm clutches you by the throat, beckoning your back to arch up as your release nearly forces Jeno’s size to push out. Wetness spritzing over his abs and chest, even reaching up to slap under his chin.

“What’s taking so long?” Jaemin steps in right as Jeno folds you in half, the backs of your knees hoisted to the sides of your head, neck thrown back in a complete daze.

The Alpha on top of you catches his friend entering from the corner of his eye, a camera in hand as they planned for better up-close shots under the premise of photographing content for your page. His thrusts never falter, angling and maneuvering just right to reach where you need, pummeling moaned gasps from the back of your throat.

“Gonna fill you full of pups.” Jeno mostly says to himself, voice rough and serious with each dip crushing his abdominal muscles together. Sweaty and flexing the more he grinds forward, grunting through licks at his teeth. “Want Alpha to breed your pretty cunt? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Fixated on chasing his release, Jeno pushes your thighs to your chest. Pressing hard watching his cock punch through your slick velvety walls. Entrance clinging to his thick girth, looking raw and used, still wanting more.

Droplets of sweat rain down, landing to melt along the backs of your legs from where they jump off Jeno’s jaw, neck rippling under a sheet of sweat. Exerting more power to cage you completely, leaving little to no room for you to even squirm away.

Jaemin expected to walk in on this, what he didn’t expect was the wash of annoyance that poured down his mind. Biting at his bottom lip to control himself from ruining the moment, he powers on the camera in his hand; zooming in to your face as Jeno leans in to give you the messiest, spittiest, barely there kiss. A kiss more so meant for his friends eyes only.

“What was that?” Jeno spews, wet hair flopping on his forehead. The heat from your bodies overpowering the air blowing from the vent above your door. Even Jaemin has to lap away sweat from his upper lip the closer he approaches.

Jeno’s question breaks through your mind with another ruthless snap of his hips. Chanting a round of broken yesyesyesyes, shouting out for the Alpha when his relentless pounding turns erratic, burning your back to shift up your bed. Damp bedding lights fire up your back, dragged harder by the Alpha losing his restraint, stilling right as your head hits the headboard.

Jeno’s growls sound close to whines, pup whines. Fucking like he’s never had a rut before, never slowing, emptying cum deep inside your walls for what feels like hours. Knot popping, sending hisses between his grinding teeth, deeply wrinkled around his squeezed shut eyes. Shallowly continuing to fuck your pussy through his never ending orgasm, knot attempting to sneak through with another thrust.

“Too much! S-too much!” You sob, head reeling and aching from how hard Jeno had fucked you, the headboard smacking back when you collided.

Jaemin taps his friend's shoulder, breaking his daze. Finally letting your legs down gently to not flop down harshly.

Jeno wants to curse, cry, shout and scream, kick his legs. Smoothing his hands down soft tender flesh lining your inner thighs, fixated on your ruined hole plugged up full of his cum, filled to the brim by his cock and knot. “So perfect.”

He shifts back just enough to admire white hot release squeeze out. Knot covered with a mixture of you both, something he could get off to if he had a photo on hand. Nodding for Jaemin to come closer and get a shot as he dips his digits to collect some of the blend, raising it to your lips letting out whines from over sensitivity.

“Open baby, that’s it pretty baby.” He coos, pushing a filthy wad of your cum onto your tongue, plump lips wrapping around his fingers with a suck.

Jaemin concentrates on filming your face, his dick twitching when your relaxed expression switches to one of fear, Jeno going on about how good you feel, how he’s your Alpha now.

“Who owns you now? Hmm?” He asks, penetrating his digits further in until you’re gagging, coughing from the rough pace he starts prodding your mouth with.

“You know why she’s not answering?” Jaemin interrupts, scanning the drool that's covered your chin and chest. “You can’t own a slut.”

Without another word, Jaemin elbows Jeno’s side, taken over by how long he’s waites. How infuriated he feels having to witness another Alpha fuck you stupid when that should be him.

The Alpha in question grumbles, knot gone down enough to be shoved aside with ease to be forgotten. He sits near, doing as he was instructed to earlier— ‘film it like a viewer would enjoy, you should know how.’

Jaemin’s fast to turn you over, his hands brushing up the backs of your thighs to grip your hips. Positioning your ass up like a good Omega presenting for their Alpha, not even giving you a minute to realize he’s about to fuck you face down ass up before he swipes between your folds gathering slick and cum, burying into your ass with one push.

He’s big— so fucking big. Fully erect, stretching your hole wide around thick fat girth. The better part of Jaemin long gone, his only care now to fuck your ass raw, hear your wails blast around the room, claim a part of you before Jeno can.

He’s so deep, filling your hole up giving you no time to even adjust, writhing as you reach for something, anything. Clutching at your bed topper, at Jeno’s smooth built thigh. The Alpha panning over the exposed white of your eyes, tongue hung out trickling saliva out like something straight out of Hentai.

Jaemin’s strong thighs press to the backs of yours, cock fully breaching your hole, stinging from the tip of your spine all the way to the top. Cries, sobbing cries sound before you can even register, fucked too stupid by the fullness splitting your ass open.

Nothing about the Alphas movements comes across charming or polite anymore, brutally gripping your hips with a bruising hold; leveraging your weight to snap forward forcing a deep bowed arch in your back.

Skin clapping against wet skin boomed around your bedroom, muffling the whimpering moans spewing from your chest. Jaemin only spurred to fuck you full of his rage— rage that should be directed at the Alpha equally irritated behind the camera.

“Alpha! Please—“ saliva collecting around your tongues slips free, covering your chin in more of a mess. Adding more obscenity to the visual of Jaemin’s broad figure behind you, pushing the mounds of your ass to roll over onto your lower back with each pummel of his hips.

“Did I say you could fucking speak?” Jaemin growls, slapping your hip before looping a fist through your hair. Yanking to lift your head for the camera lense to zoom in and out and focus on the disaster that’s taken place. Tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, lips debauched from chewing and biting, snot mixing with sweat above your pout. A nasty little mess, manhandled around by Alphas like nothing but a useless fucktoy.

“You see Jeno?” He leans over, pressing against your ass making your thighs scream from the burn of his weight pushing you into a half-split bent at your knees. “He’s your biggest fan.”

Jaemin’s tone fills with mockery, taunting and picking at his friend, taking a hold of your jaw with his other hand to make you look at the camera, look at Jeno’s enraged face hiding behind it. The cold gaze watching you coiling heat through your gut, spiraling up your chest. Trapped by the Alphas hand lowering to cup your throat with a squeeze, coughing through sobs the more he tightens.

“So fucking ungrateful, he pays so much just to watch you, pretend you belong to him.” Jaemin tuts, lifting hooded eyes to glare at the other. “This is how you thank him? Let his best friend fuck your ass. Such a fucking whore.”

Jeno’s lips pull back in a snarl, silently warning his roommate to stop trying him. Making him suffer as much as he’s made you with the bullshit he goes on saying.

“You can thank him better than this.” Jaemin says, roughly shaking your throat in his grip. “Come on, open up that pretty mouth.”

Instantaneously your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, causing Jeno to grunt, clamping his free hand around the base of his shaft. Shame and thrill combining to rip a guttural moan through it all. Jaemin only using your brainless weakened stated to his advantage.

The Alphas bicep lodges against your throat, squeezing your breath to choke out with every thrust, his other hand fisting your hair until your neck arches back in a painful way. Jeno getting an amazing shot of your tongue hanging lifelessly, drooling onto Jaemin’s meaty bulging bicep. Biting down on it hard enough to shock yourself to waken enough and cry.

Jaemin’s nose buries behind your ear, licking at whatever he can reach. Hiding his voice by latching onto your neck. “So fucking sexy, you’re so fucking hot.”

He gets it, he more than gets it. Stilling to circle against your ass as he lets out a less than manly whine. The desperation rumbling from his chest lets you know he’s close, face crumpling behind you, doing his best to keep it a secret with his nose tucked into your hair.

His thrusts snap like quick jabs, sharp and pointed. Expertly fucking your ass without losing his pace, without caring if you even get off. Letting your head drop, Jaemin gives your scalp a break, slapping a firm grip on your shoulder to keep you in place. The impact forcing your face to drop forward, biting down on the bicep shifting under your chin. Thick meat of muscle fills your taste buds, laving at it pathetically to compress the wails trying to crack from your lungs.

Jaemin knows he doesn’t have to do it, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing. Reminding you to be grateful he’s even fucking your slutty ass, he jerks your neck back up, cracking in the process. Pushing your hips up with his length grinding into you. Fingers swoop down, blurring over your clit in a mean way just to make you cry more. “Show your loyal fans what it takes to make you cum.”

Fumbling to fist the bedding, you convulse, pussy clenching at nothing. Squirting all over your thighs, ruined pretty pink blanket, and the Alpha’s forearm continuing to vibrate pushing your orgasm over the edge.

Jaemin let’s out a cracked groan, having to slow down from the ass clamps around him. Thrashing against his arm making the pressure worse on his cock.

He sighs through a moan, cupping your bruised hip to pull out, cock landing with a wet slap where your butt perks and rounds out. Struggling to keep his eyes open as he groans filthily, the tip of his length prodding in and it of your hole to push his cum in. Letting the rest of it cover your ass with a creamy layer.

“There you go,” he sighs, kissing your temples. Licking away sweat that’s about to clump your eyelashes together more. “Such a good Omega.”

He eyes the teeth marks shining under a coat of drool left behind on his arm, softly dislodging your chin while massaging the back of your strained neck. “Hungry little puppy.”

He thrusts back in once more for good measure, making you squeal and hiss, his heavy hand pushing at your lower back to slide out with calm. Cum bubbling around his softening length as your rim pulses.

Jeno lets out an angry scoff, grabbing onto the back of your leg once Jaemin finally moves off. Grumbling something about how his friend took long enough.

“N-no! No more!” You cry, wailing, weakly trying to crawl away on your knees. Jeno tossing you onto your back like a rag doll after Jaemin emptied the life out of you.

“Shh, be good for Alpha.”

The last thing you hear before your eyes roll to the backs of your sockets. Lungs crushed under Jeno’s weight as he sinks deep inside your ass pushing the rest of Jaemin’s cum to pour out.

“Hey.” Jeno’s eyes light up above you, his face all fresh with floppy damp hair. Sporting a soft smile, patting a cool cloth on your forehead. “You’re awake. I think your heat actually broke.”

“Hmm?” Sitting up on your elbows, you see Jaemin sitting at the end of the bed, a shifty gaze roaming between you and the other Alpha.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, rubbing at the side of his neck, a nervous habit.

“Kind of sleepy.” You yawn, settling against two stacked pillows. Jeno continues to pamper you, apologizing for losing control with a look of concern.

“That was the point, Alpha.” You reassure with a wink, tracing the lines of his opened apologetic palm. “Should have the video up by tomorrow, after my editor cuts all the unsexy stuff.”

Jaemin clears his throat to interrupt, wishing Jeno would leave first so he could talk to you in private. It’s not as if his roommate should have any type of claim on you just because he was horny enough to pay for a monthly subscription.

“We should leave so you can rest.” He nods. “I have some errands to run tomorrow nearby, if you need anything..”

Jeno’s jaw pops open, fixing his friend with an offended look. The other proceeding to ignore him with a shrug.

“Thank you Alp—….Jaemin..”

“Of course.” He smiles politely, the demon that had just wrecked your ass long disappeared by now. “Let’s get going Jeno.”

Jeno follows after Jaemin, trudging to exit with slumped shoulders, weighed down by an impending sensation of regret. Tilting his head side to side annoyed the more he thought about it.

“Be right back!” He spins, jogging the short distance back to your bedroom to find you still blissfully laid in place ready to fall asleep again.

“Hey.” He smiles brightly, blinking to keep his eyes as open as possible despite the way his cheeks ache from stretching his lips so wide.

“Jeno? Did you forget something?”

The Alpha steps back inside, sinking your bed in where he sits and pulls out his phone. “Yeah, your phone number.”

“Ahh..” covering your face, you can’t resist the urge to squeal. The overly eager Alpha unleashing shyness and excitement in your chest. “So cheesy!”

“I should’ve been cooler, right?” He wonders, teeth chattering with a nervous laugh. “Strolled in like— what’re you doing this weekend? Other than me?”

“Jeno?” Jaemin pokes his head past your door, having followed after him and listened to this embarrassing back and forth long enough. “Let’s go. Now. Haechan and Renjun have been waiting for us at the restaurant.”

“Oh yeah yeah, sorry.” Jeno leans over, stealing a kiss on your forehead as if his mouth hadn’t just slathered the entirety of your body in sucks and bites. “Get some rest.”

Jaemin nods, staying behind as his friend walks out. “Can I text you still?”

“Huh?” You question sleepily, confused as to why he’d ask. “Of course.. Alpha.”

Jaemin smiles, ducking his chin to hide the blush seeping through his cheeks. “Maybe we can hang out? next Saturday?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

a/n: Jeno favoritism always😭

ps- kinda proofed/kinda not🥹💙

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werecreature-addicted · 8 months

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🥲 i cant stop thinking abt reducing a werewolf who’s in heat to a begging mess. like listen he js wants to fuck you and you won’t let him?? but he’s been such a good boy?? he’d start whining and whimpering like a puppy. ears laid back, he’s so desperate for you. so you agree to let him fuck you on one condition : he has to use his muzzle. last time he got a little bit too excited and started biting a little too hard. so now he has two options, he gets to fuck you with a muzzle on, or he doesn’t get anything at all.

he thinks it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to mark you. but eventually he accepts your conditions, but he’s whining about how it’s not gonna be the same. while he’s fucking you, poor baby is panting and drooling all over himself, begging you to take it off, he needs to mark you. you manage to remind him that greedy boys don’t get anything and he just starts going faster, to the point where none of you is able to form a coherent sentence. his mind is hazy, but he takes a mental note to get rid of that damn muzzle.

Listen listen listen. Your werewolf is torn, he never wants to hurt you and is absolutely destroyed that he went too far and hurt you the last time you two had sex. It’s all of his worst fears come true! He really is nothing but a monster driven by instincts telling him to chase carnal pleasures. He thought he meant it when he promised he’d never hurt you. Every time he looks at the heald mark on your neck it makes his stomach turn. He’s so worried you’ll leave him over this…that he’ll lose his mate because he couldn’t control himself. He needs to be coaxed into even touching you again. Sex is almost completely off the table…almost.

He’s still human- well he’s not but you know what I mean. He still has desires. Your touch still sends jolts of electricity down his spine, your smell alone is still enough to get him hot. He tries his best to satiate his needs with just kissing and dry humping. Although. It’s hard to enjoy anything when he’s fighting against his animalistic urges telling him to just mount you already. You like rough sex, you like how big and sometimes scary he can be, so what’s the problem? Marking feels good- at least for him, it does. And wouldn’t you want to make your wolf feel good? And who cares if you’re scared of his monstrous side? It’s not like you can run from him, you both know he could track you down where ever you ran off to.

Those monstrous thoughts scared him a little bit. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he also knew he needed to keep you as his, he wondered which one of those desires would come out on top if push came to shove.

It doesn’t take long for his more carnal desires to win out. He’s begging for his attention and pleading for you to let him have you again. It’s been almost two full weeks since the incident and he’s pretty sure people can die from going that long without sex. He’ll do anything- and he’ll promise anything if you just let him have you. You don’t even need to do anything he’ll do all the work- he’s strong enough to use you like a Fleshlight you both know that

This is where you bring up the muzzle. It’s special. Made for werewolves so they can’t escape even with their strength. He agrees immediately! Then regrets it… again he’s torn. This is good… he can’t hurt you this way but god he hates this fucking muzzle. He can’t even kiss you like this, don’t you see how cruel this is? It’s just his nature. It’s like asking him to go Vegan.

He knows that you’ll soil him with kisses once he’s calm again. Hell, he knows that you’ll probably let him bite you if he’s careful- but all those thoughts are background noise as he listens to you whine and moan. You take his cock so well- you take his teeth even better. He loves you with all his heart and werewolves show love by biting.

He snarls to himself and gnashes his teeth behind the cage you put him in. he watches a bead of sweat drip down your neck and he mashes the grate against your skin and struggles to lick you. The muzzle digs in his face as he pushes its limits but he doesn’t care, he manages to lick the sweat from your skin and he shudders in pleasure.

Once he does calm down you let him out of the muzzle and kiss him senseless. He feels better… he didn’t hurt you this time at least. But part of him wants to throw out that stupid cage.

#werewolf #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster imagine #werewolf boyfriend #werewolves #monster #werewolf smut #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader

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tempestuous-lush · 11 months

Text

killer || daryl dixon x f!reader

summary: Daryl and you were something kept under wraps, the people of Alexandria unaware. When things escalate and you get angry, Daryl decides to claim what is his in a way that no one can mistake.

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, makeup sex, oral (female receiving), anal fingering...and that should be it.

misc: this is for @ambassadortotrilliusprime based off a request she gave me. I'm not saying I will get them out incredibly fast, especially since I have started working on a book, but if you want me to write something, shoot it over to me and I will get to it.

You were working on one of the few cars Alexandria had in running condition, trying to keep it that way, but you were absolutely distracted. Next to you was Daryl working on his bike.

While that was usually enough to distract you this was different. You weren’t blind. Since all of you arrived here they were trying to figure Daryl out. They being a set of siblings. The girl would coyly touch his hand and every time Daryl would retract and huff at her laugh before walking away. And then the brother started. He’d offer to go on recruitment trips with Daryl. He’d ask Daryl to teach him how to better shoot a gun. And today? Well, today was the worst. It felt like a hundred degrees out, the sheen of sweat on your skin, and you were having to listen to her laughing and giggling and asking about his bike, how she always wanted to learn to ride, like you didn’t matter. And to her, you didn’t.

There wasn’t a need to be, but you were pissed.

You hadn’t said a word, just silently continued your work, until you were finished.

A shrill whistle came out of you and Maggie started to open the gate, knowing that meant you were heading out. You slammed the hood shut which caused the vapid thing one to let out a little yelp before you stared at Daryl with a look that screamed anger. Throwing the tool down you were using last, you walked to the door and got in just to crank the engine and peel out of there, heading nowhere but needing to get out.

Meanwhile, after you left, Daryl quickly hopped on his bike and cranked it to life, drowning out the teasing low whistles sounding off from Rick. They all knew one thing that was obvious. Daryl was in trouble.

By the time Daryl caught up to you, you were slinging dirt down a dirt road.

He was cautious pulling up alongside you before yelling at you to pull over.

There was so much anger rising up in you though that you didn’t want to pull over, because you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle a calm and rational conversation. Instead, you looked at him and turned right as soon as you could. Much to your relief, after a bit, you realized Daryl didn’t follow. You came to a halt and got out of the car, kicking your foot at the rocks before settling on simmering.

As you sat on the hood of the car, you didn’t hear Daryl come up behind you through the woods and by the time he spoke up you weren’t able to get back in the car, “Wanna tell me what I did now, darlin’?”

You couldn’t help but sound spiteful as you spoke up, “More like what you didn’t do. Again.”

You heard his feet in the gravel and looked down at the ground, in time to see his feet standing before you. But you weren’t going to look at him, not yet. You weren’t ready. Especially since you felt like a fool the more you thought about why you were angry. Were you jealous? No, that wasn’t quite it. But you were upset. A sigh escaped you before you mumbled, “You never shut it down, and I’m sick of it.”

Daryl realized then and huffed out, “The two idiots?”

He didn’t like that you were still looking at the ground, not at him.

Hesitantly, he ran his hand along your thigh and flinched when you pulled away from him. Yeah. He fucked up. There was no question of it now. For you to not even want his hand on you? That stung. He cleared his throat and spoke up softly, “Darlin, look at me. C’mon killer. Look at me, yeah?”

“Why, Daryl?” You didn’t want him to see, just how on the verge of tears you were. You had never cried in front of him before, and for it to be over something so stupid after everything the group has been through? More tears threatened to spill from the embarrassment of it.

“Cause I don’t like when my girl ain’t wanting to see me. It don’t feel right.”

A shaky breath escaped you and you looked up at him, eyes glittering with your unshed tears, face hot from anger. He looked away for only a moment before looking back at you, his hand hesitantly resting on your arm, “I didn’t know how you felt ‘bout all this, killer. You know they don’t mean a damn thing, yeah?”

“Yeah, I know. That's why I’m an idiot.”

“Nah”- as you looked away the hand on your arm caught your chin and guided you to look back at him -”you ain’t an idiot, darlin’. But I wish you woulda said something sooner, yeah?”

This situation was a bit different.

It wasn’t like Daryl was typically rough with you. It was just more so this situation was out of his typical wheelhouse. The time on the road, even at the farm? The two of you weren’t together. This, between you two? It was more recent, technically. But this had been in the works since the prison. And since it became official, the two of you were even more inseparable. But he didn’t have to navigate a situation like this. Who was there to be jealous of? Certainly not Maggie. Carol was like a sister.

“I know Daryl, that they don’t mean a damn thing to you. But I don’t like someone, anyone, playing games to see just how close they can get to you either, yeah? You’re not a game for them to figure out how to play. And I don’t like someone making you uncomfortable all for a little bit of fun on their end.”

Daryl’s hands cradled your face and he did the only thing he knew to do in this situation, his lips falling on yours. This opened the floodgate of emotions for you. Your tears of frustration spilled and Daryl kissed along your cheeks, tongue gathering the saltiness, before the heat of his breath fell on your neck.

Your head rolled instinctively to the side to give him access. His lips and tongue soon fell on the sensitive spot only he knew about, your breath hitching as his arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer, legs spread to give him space to get closer. He grunted, “S’only ever you, killer.”

One arm wrapped around you, you felt his free hand snake up your shirt and palm your breast. As his hand fell, he pulled on your nipple before freeing it and something in you snapped with need.

You broke contact with him just to pull your shirt over your head and throw it down before you pulled him to you, desperate to kiss him again. As he moaned against your lips, your hands shoved his leather vest off and he worked with you to make it easier before you ripped open the snaps of his long sleeve shirt. Your hands busied with his belt as you managed to form the words, “I need you, Daryl. Please.”

“I ain’t saying no to you, not ever. Lay back for me.”

You did, without question.

Daryl’s breath caught at the sight of you, that pretty skin of yours on display underneath the noon sun. His grease streaked hand rested at the base of your neck. He marveled at the sharp contrast of it against the smoothness of you, slowly dragging his hand further down. He quickly pulled your shoes off, then unbuttoned your jeans and peeled them down, a smirk on his lips that had you asking what even as you spread your legs for him. Daryl’s hands fell at your hips as he grinded his clothed erection against your already glistening pussy, “Nothing, just…you ever wear anything under these clothes of yours?”

“No”- you bit back a laugh -”they just get in the way.”

Daryl moved quickly, eager to give you what you wanted but also fully aware that this left both of you more than exposed. Unzipping his pants, Daryl’s spit landed on your already wet core before he ran the head of his cock along your folds. Your feet wrapped around him dug into his ass, begging him to push. His hand clamped over your mouth as he did to smother the sounds you might make.

He stretched you open so fast, your hips bucked up and your back followed and you cried out against his hand as he began a brutal rhythm. You unwrapped your legs and used your hands to pull back on your thighs, opening yourself up to him more. Daryl’s eyes were fixated to where the two of you were joined, watching a soft bulge appear in your belly with each thrust. He moaned a bit as he could feel his precum leaking into you, those soft walls of yours beckoning him to release.

But he held off.

Taking his hand away from your mouth he instead placed it on your belly where the bulge appeared from his cock buried so deliciously deep inside of you and you cried out incoherently as he pushed down and angled his hips oh so slightly different, “C’mon killer, I wanna see that pretty pussy weep for me.”

That was it. That was your undoing.

Everything coiled inside of you and broke, and you came hard around him. Your walls fluttered and gripped tight, as if trying to get him deeper, and your cum dribbled around his cock. Daryl hunched over you, faltering in his rhythm and you pleaded, breathy, “Please, Daryl, cum inside of me. Claim me.”

“Fuckin’ hell”- Daryl’s word were lost to animalistic noise as he came, still pumping his hips to fuck it deeper into you, the sounds coming from the two of you wet and messy.

As he finally stilled, he took one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard. A look of satisfaction crossed his face as he felt you clamp around him again.

He growled playfully against your stomach, “Mine.”

“M’all yours, Daryl.”

Slowly, he got off of you and got dressed as you pulled your jeans, shirt and shoes back on before turning to him, suddenly feeling shy, “I, uh, guess we should head back, yeah?”

“Yeah”- he looked at the ground, also feeling shy -”yeah we should. Wanna drive me to my bike?”

“Yeah…yeah okay.”

Later that night in Alexandria, there was another one of Deanna’s get-togethers. Some sort of block party that neither of you wanted to go to. Yet, Aaron convinced Daryl and naturally, you followed.

You were talking to Eric as Daryl was off with Aaron when it happened. The vapid brother walked up to Daryl, and smiled before placing a hand on Daryl’s arm. Your eyes immediately averted to miss Daryl pulling away from the man’s touch. Eric smiled at you before nodding in Daryl’s direction, “I think the idiot is about to get the message.”

Confused, you turn to see him try to touch Daryl again, who immediately grabs the guy’s wrist and pushes it away before deciding to throw a fist across his jaw, dropping him cold. Everything came to a stop as the guy hit a table and pulled things down with him. Everything came to a stop, except Daryl. He walked over to you and commented, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Absofuckinglutely.”

Much to your surprise, and eliciting a yelp, he threw you over his shoulder and nodded at Eric, “See you and Aaron later, yeah?”

He walked in the direction of home, and you looked up to see everyone staring at the two of you. However, they disappeared from view as Daryl lowered you and you wrapped your legs around him. His hands instinctively braced you, one on your thigh, the other wrapped around your back and pulling you flush with him.

"That enough of a message, killer?"

"Yeah Dixon, that'll do it."

"How 'bout we have another round when we get home, take my time with you, taste those fucking juices of yours?"

Daryl stopped walking between the houses as you commented, "Why wait? You know there's not a damn thing underneath this dress."

"What'd ya say, darlin'? They just get in the way?"

At that, Daryl walked you back until you were against a house. Whose? No idea. You didn't care as he dropped to his knees before you and lifted and disappeared beneath that dress you had changed into, pulling one leg and then the other over his shoulders. You couldn't see him so when his tongue made contact you let out a moan in sync with Daryl's.

Your breath fell hard in pants as he quickly devoured you, feeling your pussy ruining his face with how aroused you were. You half expected him to stop and take you right here. You wouldn't have stopped him. His cock hadn't failed to make you cum before. But no, he kept going and going, hands on your legs clenching into your skin so hard you felt as though he'd leave bruises.

He'd pause and suck on your swollen clit, his scruff exquisite on your sensitive and puffy folds. Every time he did that your back would arch off the wall and your hands would cling to the back of his head through your dress for dear life. A desperate sound would escape you as you tried desperately to stay quiet.

Then, frustrated at how quiet you were managing to stay, Daryl's tongue picked up the pace, lapping up what you were giving him and swirling over your clit before he lifted you up and turned you around to face the wall and throwing your dress up so the cool night air rushed over your too warm skin. He spanked your ass once before clenching the meat with his hands and pulling to expose your pussy.

Running his fingers through your slick to get them coated, he got on his knees before you again, his back to wall.

This time though, you barely could stop the sound escaping you as he continued eating you, but his saturated finger finding and prodding the tightness of your asshole. Slowly, but simply, his finger slipped inside fully and he used that as leverage to pull you to him, encouraging you to fuck his face.

Soon, you were a moaning heaving mess for him. The feel of his mouth on your clit, tongue occasionally running along the length of you, and his finger deep in your ass and moving with you...it was too much. Your head rolled back and Daryl was sure you probably looked a vision, skin slicked with sweat and shining under the moonlight, a look of bliss on your face, ass exposed and taking his finger, the second one he had covered in your arousal pushing at the entrance.

He sucked on your clit again and your undoing hit you hard as you called out his name, screamed it in sudden shock. And only then did he let up, rubbing your twitching legs. He slowly removed his finger and let your dress fall down to cover you again.

He got out from beneath you, his lower half of his face covered with you. You saw him huff with a smirk.

"Yeah?"

"Took you long enough to call out my name, killer. But now ain't nobody gonna question who I'm with if I've got you sounding like that yeah? But let's go home for real now, cause I need to fuck you where only I hear what pretty noises you make."

A mischievous smile appeared on your face as you teased, "Yeah, alright. But you're gonna have to catch me first Dixon."

"Better start running then, darlin'."

Daryl Dixon masterlist here.

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #no y/n #walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction

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extremelyblackandwhite · 11 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

summary: bucky and y/n decide what is and isn’t a boundary.

masterlist

Bucky thought that after becoming a father he’d magically turn into a responsible adult. One of those adults in every single movie, every single TV show, that somehow has their shit together and always has wise words to offer the young generation. That’s what’s supposed to happen, right? He was supposed to play his playboy days behind him and step into the father role armed with dad jokes and infinite wisdom - instead, he was lusting after the woman he hired to take care of his daughter. It was almost comical, straight out of a gossip magazine, the dad wanting to sleep with the babysitter. He’d never thought of her that way. At least he was sure he’d never thought of her that way. Sure she was beautiful, that had never gone lost on him, but she was his employee and as an employer he had certain guidelines he had to follow. He was certain if the HR lady was here she’d be lecturing him on how he should stop staring at Y/N’s breasts through the thick sweater she was now wearing. How come the sweater was getting him as riled up as the see through T-shirt? It was if she was tempting him, looking all domestic, holding his child by her hip while finishing supper. The universe was tempting him.

All his mind could focus on was that memory of her, soaking yet standing in front of him. Nothing had been hidden from him, from the shape of her supple breasts to the colour of her underwear. It made him want to take her to his bed, peel the pesky garments off and feel her skin against his. Just the mere thought of it had his blood boil and his trousers fell suddenly tighter. He needed to get out of here, he needed to get out of here before she noticed anything.

- I’m gonna go. - he spoke out before his brain could compute his words. All he knew for sure is he needed to get away from her, get away from the thought of her body flush against his, or how her lips would feel against his skin.

- Are you gonna be back soon? - even her voice was tempting. When did she become a temptress? - Sergeant Barnes?

- I don’t know.

He closed the door a bit more harshly than he should but this was a condition he didn’t want her seeing him in. He also certainly didn’t want his daughter to further question him on why his heart was beating faster or why he was red. He needed to get away from it all. He needed to have sex, that’s what he needed to do. Honestly, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d actually had sex. If he wasn’t busy at work, he was at home spending time with Sadie. That had to be it, he was having this thoughts about his au pair because he was horny. That was it. At least that’s what he convinced himself as he walked into a bar.

He knew he should feel guilty, or at least he should feel some slight shame for what he was about to do. However, it wasn’t as if Bucky ever lied to any of the women he slept with. They knew what this was - a one night stand in an expensive hotel room. He made it clear from the start and today that’s just what he needed.

That’s how he found himself in a hotel in central New York, deep inside the woman whose red dress had caught his attention the moment he stepped into the bar. This was just what he needed. Looking at her face, he studied her features, noticing just the way her hair fell, her cheeks flushed as he continued to pound into her. Her moans were music to his ears, the more she moaned, the more his grip grew on her hips, chasing his own high. He knew he should help her finish, he really did but he just needed to get off, he needed to get this sexual frustrations off. It made him sick to his stomach when he considered that deep down he was using this woman for his own benefit, but he reckoned she was getting something out of it too.

He looked back at his girl’s face and perhaps it was a mix of alcohol or maybe he lack of sleep but her face started morphing into someone else ... the someone else. He should’ve been ashamed, imagining his daughter’s au pair in place of someone else but once it was in his mind, he couldn’t stop anymore. His pace grew faster as his grip tighter as he pictured her, writing and moaning under him until he came undone.

(...)

The morning came like a bad alarm. The girl was long gone and perhaps it was for the best as he was certain that at some point he must’ve moaned out Y/N’s name. She probably thought he was pathetic and maybe he was as he couldn’t even remember what that woman’s name was. He rubbed his face off sleep, he needed to get back to his daughter and based on the amount of calls he had from Y/N, he reckoned she was about to finish writing all her essay about how disappointed she was in him. He dreaded walking past that door, he just knew Y/N was gonna berate him for not telling Sadie goodnight or sit through another three hours of Bluey.

- Sergeant Barnes. - he heard her voice before he saw her and he wished he hadn’t seen her in that moment. She walked in wearing a white dress, carrying Sadie against her hip. - I’m gonna be late. I’ve fed Sadie and we’ve gone through bath time. I need to go.

- Where are you going? - where are you going looking like that? The dress was light, flowing around at any and every movement and hugging her breasts in a way which made him wonder if she had it made specifically for her.

- I asked for the day off remember? - she handed him Sadie who was busy paying attention to the tablet. - I’ll be back either tonight or tomorrow.

He found his words stuck in his throat but before they could actually say anything, she was already out the door. That had to be a date, that was a date outfit. That was a trying to impress a guy outfit and he didn’t know why he was so bothered. She was a beautiful, young woman and it was natural for her to go out and date. She deserve someone nice who wined and dined her and while part of him was happy for her, the other part kinda wanted to have been able to take her on a date. He knew the best places in town, he could get her places someone else couldn’t and then he could end the night in ways that she could only read on the dirty books she tried to hide whenever he caught her reading. Yet, part of him wondered if maybe all these thoughts were due to his sexual frustration. He thought she was attractive, yes, but he didn’t dwell on any underlying feelings. It was just lust, right?

- No Sadie, don’t eat the marker. - his daughter took his mind off Y/N thankfully.

- Grape.

- It’s grape coloured, not grape flavoured. - he took the marker away from Sadie. - Do you want some grapes?

- No. - she shrugged, grabbing another marker to continue painting.

- What are you drawing there, Sisi? - he asked, taking a more comfortable seat next to his daughter.

- Daddy ... - she pointed at a blue stick figure and then to a pink stick figure and red stick figure. - Me, mummy.

- Mummy? - his throat dried up. He thought he still had time or at least more time until he had to figure out how he’d explain to Sadie that her mum is a deadbet who only hits him up when she needs money.

- Mummy. - she shrugged and continue to paint.

- Do you want a mummy?

- No. I have mummy. - she said as if the was the simplest answer to the most simple question.

- You have a mummy?

- Y/N. - she looked at him for a second before returning to her dress. - Teacher said mummy loves you and Y/N loves me.

He chose to stay silent this time. She was two years old, going on three, there was no use in pushing this issue further and if Bucky was being honest, he didn’t want to push it either. Telling Sadie about her mum was something he hoped to do when she was a little bit older and could, much to his dismay and sadness, understand the true nature of some people. Right now she was a baby, his baby, and he couldn’t bare the thought of destroying whatever innocent notions she had. It was better she thought that - that all someone needed to become a parent was love, at least until she was younger.

He moved closer to his daughter, kissing the top of her head as she happily continued on her drawing. He teased her about making him too short or even why he couldn’t pick the colour, but eventually, the two had the drawing pinned to the fridge door with a magnet of a past holiday. The rest of the day was uneventful, with Sadie mostly running around with her toys and having fun with different things she found around the house until he had to tackle bath time. No wonder Y/N had gotten soaked to the skin, trying to bath Sadie was almost a war sport and he had actually been to war. Eventually, he got her into bed, tucking her in with several of her plushies and reading her favourite book before lights were off except for the small moon night light.

He took the opportunity to spend the time without his daughter to catch up on some work, spread over his couch while his laptop laid over his lap. The words meshed together with sentences as he read through contract after contract, one no more different than the other. The repetitiveness of the contracts had him slowly drifting in and out of sleep until he was napping. However, that nap was soon interrupted by the door closing. He was immediately back to his senses, ready to take down whatever threat may have trespassed. Luckily for him, it was only Y/N coming back in. Unluckily for him, she didn’t look particularly happy, at least she hadn’t looked happy as once she looked at him it was a if she did a 180 and immediately looked her regular happy go lucky self.

- Is Sadie asleep? - she tucked her hair behind her ear, looking around to see if the little girl was anywhere.

- She’s asleep. Been down for about two hours now.

- Oh ... uhm .... Is there anything you need me to do?

- I thought you weren’t gonna come back today. - he closed his laptop. - Bad date?

- A bad date would’ve been better than what happened. - she walked towards the kitchen to grab herself a glass of water.

- Jesus, how bad could the guy have been? - he followed her like a baby duck, taking a seat in front of the kitchen counter. - You were so confident this morning, I thought you would come back in a messier state.

- What are you talking about, Sergeant Barnes? - she rolled her eyes.

- Come on. From this morning alone, I thought you were gonna get laid or something. Follow my advice from our last conversation.

- Oh ... - realisation dawned on her. - I didn’t go on a date. I went to my friend’s engagement party.

Was it terrible that he was happy she hadn’t gone on a date? She had clearly looked like something had upset her, yet he was celebrating the fact she wasn’t sleeping with someone behind his back. Behind his back? She’s not his girlfriend. She would be sleeping with someone, point.

- Going to an engagement party as the last single girl is a challenge.

- I’m sure there were plenty of groomsmen there ready to make you some company. It can’t be all bad.

- It’s not even the idea of not getting married which upsets me. It’s the comments. Every single comment filled with pity as if I am losing sleep over being sleep. - she groaned. - It’s annoying.

- Maybe they’re just wondering why such a catch is still out there. - he joked, getting a small smile out of her. - Good food, at least?

- Not that kind of friend.

- Why are you single anyway, Y/N?

- Don’t you think that’s a bit personal?

- You did flash me yesterday. I thought that meant there were no boundaries between us anymore.

- I did not flash you. - she pointed at him. - Flashing you would’ve meant I intended for you to see me soaking wet.

Oh god, why did you say that? She thought to herself as the words faltered on her tongue, gaining a grin of victory from him.

- I did not flash you. - she repeated. - You’re my boss that would’ve been inappropriate.

- I’ll forgive your flasher behaviour if you forgive my question then.

- I have to watch over Sadie and I have my studies to focus on. Do you think I can date on the one or two days off I get?

- Now that’s not very good multitasking from you. I swore you told me during your interview that you were a good multitasker.

- And I swore during my interview you said you’d warn me if something came up and you had to leave. Where did you go last night?

- What about those boundaries we were discussing earlier?

- If you get to query me on my personal life, so do I. Go on.

- You don’t want to know.

- Yes, I do. I answered your question and now you answer mine, it is only fair, Bucky.

- Is it Bucky now?

- Don’t change the topic. You ran out the room as if there was a fire, so tell me, what could’ve been so important?

- Sex.

- Oh ... - she looked flustered, not expecting that to be the answer. For whatever reason she thought it would’ve been something related to his company or maybe he just wanted to smoke as he usually did when he thought no one was watching. Although, looking back she realised that the later looked like the least likely option. - You had ... scheduled sex?

- You think I schedule sex?

- Did you just ... randomly felt like having sex and went out looking?

- It’s not that hard, Y/N. You would know if you tried it.

- How do you know I haven’t?

- Based on the fact that I heard you touching yourself a few nights ago ... I’d say you haven’t.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x y/n #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky/reader #bucky x reader #bucky/you #bucky x you #bucky/y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine

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nexysworld · 11 months

Note

Hello!

I hope it’s ok for me to request this (and sorry if my English is not well)😭👉👈

Can I request for Leon and his girlfriend/wife being on a mission together (maybe during re4r, vendetta or re6) and during the mission reader finds out she’s pregnant with Leon’s kid. She’s maybe reluctant on telling him because it might jeopardize the mission or put more weight on Leon’s shoulders, but eventually tells him.

Leon is truly over the moon with the news but at the same time worried since they’re on the mission and was about to call Hunnigan to get her to safety. but girlfriend/wife refuses to abort the mission and leave Leon.

the angst and overprotective and soon to be father leon >u< pls

Thanks so much for the request! The plot for this one actually got away from me more than expected so it's not quite as angsty as I had planned. I had most of it written already so I didn't want to scrap it tho. I hope you like it anyway - I might just redo this one in the future because I like the prompt so much and think I could do it more justice - especially expanding more on Leon's internal feelings. ~ Expectations to Keep Going ~ Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist Pairing: Fem!Reader x Vendetta!Leon Tags: Fluff, Angst, Comfort, Unplanned Pregnancy Word Count: 2.2k

You paced back and forth in the living room of your once-shared apartment. 60 seconds felt like 60 minutes as you watched the timer slowing ticking down, heart racing. With a shaky hand you picked up the stick and to your dismay saw the little + indicating it was positive. “For fuck’s sake, this can’t be happening right now.” Ever have one of those moments where you say ‘at least it can’t get worse.’ Well, this was the universe’s way of reminding you that things can always get worse.

Leon had walked out on you. He didn’t explicitly say the relationship was over, but he didn’t really need to. He’d shown up drunk, shoving everything he owned into a suitcase, and disappeared on what he called his ‘vacation.’ Except that vacation had lasted weeks now, with not so much as a phone call home. When you attempted to contact him, same thing, radio silence.

You tried remaining calm, knowing what had happened on his most recent mission. You just told yourself he needed time, but with each passing week the feeling that things were over kept washing over you.

You weren’t one to wallow, freak out, or really deal with your feelings in general. So you did the only thing you knew to cope, you threw yourself into work. Mission after mission, clearing them as fast as you could – that was until weird stuff began happening. Fatigue was the first thing you noticed. You were always tired no matter how much sleep you got. Then came the nausea. Your skin had even begun to break out, your breasts were sore. It was like PMS cranked up to the max – except no period. That in of itself hadn’t been alarming since you didn’t really get one on birth control, the other symptoms though? They had freaked you out, leading you to this moment right now, standing alone in your apartment, positive pregnancy test in hand.

“I can’t deal with this.” You said to yourself, slumping back onto the couch. Luckily for you, your phone rang. “Redfield? Yeah…yeah…No, I don’t know where he is…yeah, I can help.”

A mission. Relief flooded through you. Was it a good idea to accept it considering your current condition? Probably not. But a mission would make a great distraction right about now. Besides, with enough willpower, you were sure you could overcome any symptoms for at least a few days, especially if the fate of the world was at stake, right?

That’s the plan. Save the world again and afterward, you’d figure out what to do.

Your heart stopped when you saw him at the table chugging down another glass of alcohol. He didn’t look great, and he didn’t look happy to see you or the two companions who’d followed. His normally clean-shaven face was now scruffy, the bags under his eyes intensifying the steely blue even more - his hair was dark and greasy. This wasn’t your Leon. You would’ve been happier to not have seen him like this, but Chris and Rebecca insisted on locating him. “Cancel that!” Chris shouted when Leon attempted to order another glass. Leon instantly pulled out a flask from his back pocket with a smirk – of course, he had a backup. It honestly would’ve been funny and so very Leon if the context of the situation didn’t have you feeling so awful. Leon hadn’t acknowledged you once, and you hadn’t tried to speak. What could you possibly say? Now wasn’t the time to talk about your broken relationship or the other elephant in the room - he looked so broken down. “I never plan that far ahead anymore.” He slurred to Chris. “There’s no point. There’s always some new bad guy to fight. My life is just a vicious loop. So what’s the point in thinking about the future?”

Ouch .

Those words definitely stung, adding to the growing barrier between the two of you. Now a new worry bubbled in you that if you did tell him, it would be too much. That would be the thing that sent him spiraling over the edge he was already teetering - you couldn’t do that. Not to him, not to yourself. No. This was something you would need to deal with alone .

This was a mission. You were a professional. That’s all that mattered right now – let everything else go. Following through on that was hard. Much harder than expected, especially now that you’d found yourself alone with Leon, separated from Chris, and Rebecca abducted.

Nausea had come back in full force, this was the third time you found yourself making him stop his bike so you could lurch behind a dumpster to spill stomach acid and spit.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” “I’m fine.” You assured standing up. You knew he wasn’t buying it, even a half-sober Leon still remained a great agent, sharp as ever. Moodier than usual - even if you hardly spoke. Slower than usual - almost getting mowed down by the Gatling gun in the hotel. You almost never got sick - now you’d spilled your guts several times. Something was definitely up, and he didn’t need to accuse you for you to see the suspicion on his face. Not to mention how he’d been hovering over you like an overprotective guard dog ever since the attack at the hotel.

Guilt. Guilt is what you felt when he looked at you. He was worried about you and you had the truth of what was wrong kept caged behind closed lips. You took in a few deep breaths to help ease your sour stomach - it doesn’t work and you’re in tears now as more gagged coughs are ripped from your throat. A comforting hand rubs your back as a bottle of water is placed in front of you, not bothering to question where he’d gotten it. Greedily you downed the entire thing, using the last sip to swish the terrible flavor from your mouth. “Were you bitten?”

You shot him a glance of horror. “No! Of course not.” “Then tell me what’s really going on.” “I’m fine.” “You’re obviously not fine.” “Well of course I’m not fine. I’m stuck alone on a mission with the guy who walked out on me after 10 years together. Now can we go?” You don’t know why you said that, your mood just kept ping-ponging through different emotions. You guessed this time it just landed on anger. When his hand was on your back you wanted to cry from the comforting touch, but now that you had to stand and look at his face you were annoyed. This wasn’t the time or place. You knew that, you’d reminded yourself of it several times, and yet emotions were getting the better of you. Damn these stupid hormones. His brows came together in thought and confusion, you really weren’t acting like yourself. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” He finally responded. “I know. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have – “ “No, I deserved that. I’m surprised you didn’t come into the hotel swinging, honestly, I wouldn’t have blamed you. It was shitty how I left.” It wasn’t an apology, but the acknowledgment definitely helped a little.

The two of you stood there awkwardly for a while. Leon had radioed Chris for a status report, his team had breached the building and were on a steady path of clearing out the enemy. It bought you and Leon a little more time to continue your awkward stand-off. He brought his gaze to meet yours again. “Look, I know I don’t deserve to know what’s going on with you. I get it. But at least for the sake of the mission, tell me what’s wrong physically. If we need a medic–” “I’m pregnant.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say it after you’d spent the entire time telling yourself that you couldn’t - no - shouldn’t. It was probably the fact you couldn’t stand the way he was looking at you anymore. But there it was, the truth slipped right out.

“What.” “I’m pregnant.” “I don’t understand.” You’d never seen such a stupefied look on him before. It was like you had just spoken in tongues, for some reason that irritated you. You finally confess your big secret in the middle of a super important mission, and that’s all he had to say? “What don’t you understand? I’m pregnant and it’s yours. You got me pregnant. I am pregnant with your baby. You put your –” You were cut off by your own crying, feeling every emotion simultaneously, the tears continued to spill against your will. Damn. Damn. DAMN these stupid hormones.

“Ok. Ok. I get it, calm down.” He put his hands out defensively as he walked towards you, caging you against the wall. “I can’t!” You shouted. Leon pressed your foreheads together, snaking his arms behind you into a hug. He didn’t say anything, just held you tightly for a few moments letting you sob it out. Once the waterfall of tears was reduced to some hiccups and sniffling, he began to rub soothing circles into your lower back. You dared to glance up at him through wet lashes, there was an unmistakable smile plastered to his face. “It would be just like you to distract yourself from huge news with work. But you shouldn’t be here if you’re pregnant. Let me call Hunnigan, we can have a ‘copter sent in to pick you up.” “No!” You brought your hands up to push him away from you, shaking your head. “No, I am not abandoning this mission. Chris needed my help to unlock the building’s computer systems so they can collect the virus’ information. I’m not going anywhere - wait - why are you smiling like that?” His gleeful look didn’t waver. “Sweetheart…you’re asking me why I’m smiling? Obviously, because I’m happy.” “What?” “I’m happy? You told me I’m going to be a father. There’s going to be a little ankle-biting Kennedy running around. I’m happy! Not quite as happy you knew and came here anyway. I guess that’s my own fault though.” “I don’t understand. You left me. You literally said there was no point in planning for a future.” It was your turn to look absolutely stunned, it was so far from the reaction you had expected it almost gave you whiplash. He reached out and grabbed your hand, squeezing it assuringly. “Yeah, I was wallowing in some deep self-pity. But seeing you almost get killed in the hotel was a sobering reminder of what I can’t afford to lose. Hearing that I’m going to be a father? That doubles it for me. I realized I was looking at things the wrong way. I know I’ll always be running headfirst into danger, but maybe having a future to look forward to is the motivation I need to stay alive while I do it. Wait are you seriously –oh, come on Honey don’t start crying again.” He sighed pulling you close. “I’m calling Hunnigan and getting you out of here.” “No! I have to complete the mission. Just give me a minute.” Your words lacked the bite you intended. “Look, I think I’d already flop at this whole fatherhood thing if I let the mother of my baby get hurt or killed on day 1.” Leon pressed a few soft kisses on your forehead and wet cheeks before finally connecting your lips together. He tasted like alcohol masked with mint and the short hairs on his face scratched you, but it was still comforting. “Let’s negotiate then.” You offered. “This isn’t the time for that. You’re jeopardizing the mission and you could get killed, it’s not safe.” His tone was caring, but stern now. “Look. I know it was stupid of me to take this on while pregnant. You’re right it was a distraction and I thought I could handle it better. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m the only one who can get into those systems.” You managed to finally get the tears to stop, rubbing your eyes dry and raw. You could see he still wasn’t fully convinced. “Leon, there isn’t going to be a future for our baby if we can’t stop this. Please.” “Fine. But only if you promise to stay on the defensive and avoid action as much as possible. Do as I tell you to and let me handle any enemies that his team may have missed.” “Come on Leon, I can handle–” “No. We do things my way or I’m calling Hunnigan and you’re leaving.” You were annoyed despite knowing he was right. You would’ve argued further but the look of worry on his face shut you up instantly. “Alright. Alright. I’ll follow your lead, promise.”

“Good, and Baby?” “Yeah?” “No more missions for a while. Got it?” “Deal.” You shook his hand as if it were a business meeting, rewarding you with a laugh on his part. He captured you in one more quick kiss before leading you over to his bike, both steeling yourselves back into your professional personas. You hopped onto the back, wrapping your arms around him tightly as he took off in the direction of the building to get the remainder of the mission over with.

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rodolfoparras · 6 months

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what are ur headcanons for price? like they can be as weird or as normal like they don’t gotta be naughty it could be something like his fave food is crackers 😭😭

First of all I love this question thank you sm for asking it I was literally vibrating with excitement second of all I have so many I was a wee bit overwhelmed but I split them up in four types of HC, first one being about him specifically and then two of him in relationships and then one of him in platonic relationships is it obvious that I am hyper fixated on this man

Anyway here’s what Price would be like in a relationship and a bit about him

Price in a relationship:

Price had enlisted very early on in the army meaning that most of his life he’s spent being surrounded by men (and women) and he’s most definitely had different types of relationships with men, he’s probably even had one defining relationship with a man in his early days that didn’t last but left a lasting impact on him

Price rose very fast in rank, meaning most of his younger years he’d spent being dedicated to his work, and would have little to no time for serious relationships. If anything he’d indulge in hooks up that would happen at the many banquets and private parties organized by the army. If he were to ‘date’ anyone in his younger years it’d be for the sole reason of having someone to do romantic stuff with, to have someone to write letters to while stationed somewhere, to have someone special to visit during holidays, to have someone that knows your body better than a stranger would, but he wouldn’t be taking it seriously because at the end of the day the work he does is dangerous and having a serious relationship with someone would only put his significant other in danger.

Price would only start thinking about getting into a serious relationship once he gets a bit older and things have slowed down in both his private life and work life. He’d only date someone he’s known for years, not someone he met within a short period of time just to be sure that he can trust them and to be sure they’re taking the relationship as serious as he is because once he gets in a relationship he’s really in it for the long run.

Price likes to keep his work life and private life separated, only a handful of people would know if he was dating someone and even less people would know if were to marry someone.

If the person he’s dating happens to be in his team he’d treat them no different to how he treats any other soldier, for example you’d be sent out to train in heinous weather conditions along with the rest of the soldier, you’d get scolded if you were to mess up during a big mission, and there’s nothing but professionalism surrounding your interactions. However at some point he’s be more open to pda but even then it would only be around those closest to him.

When out in a bar with 141, he’ll put his arm behind your seat or rest his hand on your thigh, subconsciously tapping his finger or stroking the skin while listening to Soap’s drunken blabbering.

During a meeting he’ll pull his chair up next to yours, wipe at his nose to hide his smile and try to start the meeting pretending as if nothing strange had happened. However someone (Soap) will dare call him out on his action “oi cap was that the only chair available?!” To which he’d only respond with a harsh glare that would quickly shut the Scotsman up.

Or if you’re eating in the mess hall, you’ll see him quickly snatch something off your plate and when you meet his gaze with a questioning look on your face he’ll just say “it has pineapple in it you won’t like it”

Even though he’s very private about your relationship he’d keep something of yours strapped to his backpack or pinned to his bedroom wall and if you were to get married he’d get a small and simple tattoo to honor it but it’d be somewhere hidden so that even if he ends up captured and tortured they’d never find out about you.

If someone were to find out about your existence that shouldn’t know about it he’d lose it, tracking them down and getting rid of them.

Price wouldn’t be the type to get overly jealous or possessive. He likes to think he’s long surpassed the age for that but every once in a while he does get jealous and when that happens, he doesn’t like to make it obvious, matter of fact you can’t get him to admit for all the money in the world.

If there’s a soldier that’s getting rather chummy with you, he’ll stand off to the side, rocking on his heel while trailing his gaze across the room, pretending he’s unbothered by things

If you try to confront him about his jealousy he’ll fold his arms across his chest, doing his best to avoid your gaze, while a familiar heat creeps up his neck ears and cheeks.

If you’re dating him, you’re one of the people, if not the only person he feels comfortable confiding in. Price is so used to caring for everyone else, he doesn’t know how to let someone care for him.

So when he’s feeling upset he’ll crawl into bed with you or sit down and join you in whatever you are doing, hoping you won’t ask questions as he blinks back tears.

“What are you reading?” He says, voice soft and pointing to the book in your hands.

There’s so many things you want to say to this man. What are you doing here? Are you alright ? Anything but - “it’s an old favorite of mine”

“Read it for me” he says blinking so fast to keep the tears at bay as he shuffles further up on your bed, head resting against the headboard and meeting your worried gaze “please” he says, voice slightly cracking. You heavy out a sigh, but shuffle closer to him before you start to read

Sometimes he’ll dare say what’s on his mind, when the two of you are outside of some pub close to base, and he’s propped against the wall with you next to him, speaking in a calm and composed voice about anything and everything that’s on his mind, allowing tears to trickle down his cheeks while smoking on his cigar

If you were to get into a fight with, it would eat at him for days, from the words he had said in a fit of anger to the way he acted, he would want to resolve it immediately or as soon as possible.

As soon as you open the door to your shared bedroom he’s hastily walking towards you, eyes red, hair a mess with apologies slipping past his lips.

“I am so sorry my love no let me apologize please-“

He probably has assigned days where the two of you go to the pub to watch a soccer game, as you get older you get to take the bike there and it’s plenty fun because you can get however drunk you want while taking the bicycle back home, bicycling on the countryside as day bleeds into night and the sky is a mix of yellow red and orange

If you were to pass away he wouldn’t date/ remarry. He'd rather visit your grave every day than start over with someone new.

#tears prickling my eyes #bc I love this question but it’s so big pls give me time I’m going to write all of them out before my sleeping pills kick out #alec answers #call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x male reader #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #x male reader #male reader #price x reader #price x male reader

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toxic3mmy · 1 month

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hii! i hope this isn’t going against boundaries as it is a little angsty, but could you do a fic where the reader is going through a depressive episode and alex tries his best to help them? love ur writing!

of course! i struggle with mental health and love this request idea!

(also, im sorry if this feels repetitive from my other works!! please feel free to leave more requests my lovelies! <33 )

prompt: alex helps you through a depressive episode

warning: mention of depression, sh, and scars

________________________________________

it had been three weeks. alex had been trying to get a hold of you for the entirety of this time and had no luck except for a few texts from you. he was really beginning to worry.

was she in trouble? did something bad happen? is she in the hospital? is she just very busy with life?

alex didn’t know, but what he did know was that it had been long enough since he last saw you.

you were stuck in a terrible loop. wake up around 3pm, watch the show you were hyper fixated on, toss and turn in your bed, eat some snacks, and sleep around 5am. repeat the cycle again and again. sometimes you just laid there and thought about how much you hated life. sometimes you cried and cried for hours at a time. and sometimes, when your head was too full of resentment and hate towards yourself, you would drag your trusty blade across your scarred skin and felt the immense relief as the blood dripped from your self inflicted wounds.

you knew it was an issue. you knew you really were not okay. and most of all, you knew that you could never show this side of yourself to alex. he wouldn’t understand any of it and he most likely would abandon you like everyone else in your life had.

but a huge part of you wanted to see him. maybe seeing him would snap you out of this depressive loop. but maybe not, who knows.

alex had made his way to your house and he waited outside. he tried calling you one last time before making his move.

you watched your phone screen light up with alex’s face as you let it ring. you missed him, you really did. but you wanted to watch your show in peace. so you waited for the call to finish and continued to lay in bed, feeling sleep take over your body.

alex saw his missed call as a sign. he put his phone away and grabbed your extra key hidden inside your pink flower pot on the porch. he unlocked your door and slowly made his way inside. as he turned around from closing the door, he noticed the mess. it was an absolute mess everywhere. he knew how tidy you loved to keep your home so it was confirmed now that something was definitely wrong.

he creeped closer to your room and after opening the door, he noticed you must have drifted off to sleep while watching something on your phone. he looked around your room and saw that your room was in worse condition than the house. takeout food was lying around on the floor, dirty dishes, empty cups and dirty laundry had collected all over the room. the floor wasn’t even visible at this point.

alex knew exactly what this was. you had fallen into a depressive episode. but why didn’t you tell him about this sooner?

he brushed aside the questions and took off his jacket. he then began to pick up any trash he could find without waking you. he took all dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and washed them all. then he put all the littered clothing into your washer and began to wash them. he swept and mopped your room and was genuinely surprised that you had yet to wake up from all his movement.

he cleaned the rest of the house without hesitation. he knew this was probably the least he could do for you right now and he wanted to do anything he could for you.

it took him a few hours but he’d finally gotten everything done when he realized he forgot to clean a few things in your room. he walked in and abruptly stopped in his tracks the moment he met your wide eyes.

“alex…. what are you doing here? i can’t have you here right now i-i don’t want you here! i don’t want you to see me like this.. why are you here?! who told you that you could just break into my house and—and” you let out the most heartbreaking sobs as you broke down right then and there

alex rushed over to you and immediately enveloped you in his strong arms. you were quick to push him off of you, still crying.

“alex i haven’t showered in almost two weeks! i smell awful and look even worse! can’t you see that i don’t want you here!”

alex began to tear up as he simply held you in his arms once again.

“shh, it’s okay sweetheart. ya no llores corazón. i’m here, okay? i know you’re going through a lot right now and i’m here by your side no matter what. i missed you y/n. i’ve missed you so much. i just want you to be okay..”

you began to cry even more when he said these things to you.

“are you sure you’re okay seeing me like this? i… i’m doing really bad and this is all so embarrassing—”

alex sighed,

“princesa, you have no reason to be embarrassed with me. i’m your best friend. i love you and i always will. i want to take care of you, if that’s okay?”

you didn’t know what to say. you were so so grateful for him, for everything. all you could do was nod as tears silently fell down your face.

alex held your hand and led you into your newly cleaned bathroom. he grabbed your favorite hair brush and let your hair down from its messy bun. he softly brushed out all the knots in your long hair. he then handed you your toothbrush with toothpaste on it. although you felt a bit embarrassed still, alex had a way of being so nonchalant that it made the embarrassment lift off of your shoulders. you brushed your teeth as he finished off detangling your hair.

once you both finished, he played a soft playlist on his phone to fill the silence and began to take off his shoes and his tee shirt.

you couldn’t help but laugh with reddened cheeks as you covered your eyes with your hands.

alex playfully threw his shirt at you.

“hey! what are you doing?” you laughed, uncovering your eyes slowly

“i’m showering with you, duhh. now come on y/n, don’t let me make a fool of myself alone!” he laughed as he turned on the shower and then walked towards you.

his warm hands held you by the hips and your breath was caught in your throat as he slowly began to undress you.

“is this.. okay?” alex whispered to you as his hands stopped at the hem of your pants.

“yeah, yes it’s okay. i trust you.”

and with that alex undressed the two of you and helped you into the steamy shower. as the water ran down your body, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. while you began to soap up your body, alex approached you and once again asked if he could come in. you laughed and pulled him into the shower with you.

you spent the remainder of the shower washing one another’s hair and body in the most innocent way possible. when you both finished, alex got towels for the both of you and he rummaged through your closet to find you some comfortable clothes. he also found some clothes you’d stolen from him and extra stuff he’d left at your house from weeks ago. the two of you got dressed in silence until you spoke up.

“alex… i really want to thank you. i really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me. i haven’t really been feeling that well lately. i um, i couldn’t leave my bed for so long. i feel too tired to even take care of myself or to do anything at all. i’m really sorry you had to see me like this…”

“y/n, please don’t apologize. you have nothing to apologize for. you’re only human. and even if you’re struggling with things that i may not completely understand, i’m never going to leave your side. one thing i did want to ask about was um… the scars on your arms and your thighs. have you always struggled with self harm? i… i hate to see you hurting yourself in this way. your beautiful skin…” he said as he held your hands in his

“i… don’t know how else to cope. i know it’s not okay to do but it brings me comfort, as morbid as it may sound. i’m sorry alex… i really am. i promise you that i’ll make an appointment with my therapist. i might have um ghosted her a few weeks ago but i think it would be best to reach out to her for help. i didn’t want to at first but i know you want the best for me and id do anything for you alexis” you were crying again but alex was quick to dry your eyes with his hands

he held your arms out and kissed the ragged red lines across your arms. he kissed every last one, and you couldn’t help but smile sadly at him.

“y/n, let me take care of you okay?”

“even if i get bad like this again?”

“yes y/n, i don’t plan on leaving your side. i’m here now okay? i’m here hermosa”

you waited in your bedroom doorway as alex changed your bedding to clean sheets and a clean blanket. you were so incredibly lucky and thankful to have him here with you. when he finished, he laid you down and followed suit.

“when was the last time you ate?”

“probably yesterday.. well technically yesterday but all i had was a soda and some fruit.”

“would you like me to cook something for you? or maybe i could pick up some food?”

“you really don’t have to do that, you’ve already done so much for me i mean look at this house! it’s spotless and i don’t know how to even thank you for that..”

“don’t worry about that. are you hungry, yes or no?”

you nodded sheepishly

“okay, then give me like twenty minutes and i’ll be right back”

and with that, alex left you alone to get you some food. the moment you were by yourself, you couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably. it was all too much too soon. you weren’t ready to get better. you just wanted to be alone and you wanted to rot away in your bed with no one to bother you.

as these negative thoughts began to surface in your mind, your thoughts immediately switched to images of your shiny little friend that was hiding in your bathroom. you went to retrieve your favorite sharp blade and rolled up your sleeve. you stared at the red healing cuts on your arm and you suddenly remembered alex.

he was kissing your scars and asking if he could take care of you. you didn’t want to disappoint him. as much as you wanted to stay unwell, you didn’t want to do that to him. you stood up and flushed the blade down the toilet. you took a second to walk around your house and admire all that alex had done for you.

you sat in your living room and turned on the tv while waiting for his return.

as promised, twenty minutes had passed and alex walked into your house with some dinner for the two of you.

“honey! i’m home!” he laughed at his own joke as you playfully rolled your eyes at him

“hi… i missed you” you surprised alex with a tight hug

“woah, is everything okay y/n?”

“yeah, now that you’re here everything is perfect”

and the two of you talked over dinner. you thanked alex profusely for everything he’d done. he said it was no big deal, that he enjoyed taking care of you. and that was the end of that. the rest of the day consisted mostly of alex being very cuddly and sweet to you. but you didn’t mind it at all. the two of you simply enjoyed being together and everything felt okay in that moment.

#alex quackity #alexis quackity #quackity #quackity x reader

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halloweenhoneylover · 2 years

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Can you do a fluff Steve Harrington request set before season 3 where his girlfriend works at a summer day camp while he works at Scoops and he basically get jealous of a 5-year-old who calls her his wife when he picks her up from work one day? Because I do in fact think he’s fight with a child for his love

1.1k for u anon! it's short and i don't really like it but i was tired of it sitting in google docs

—

Steve was sweaty.

A heat wave had struck Hawkins, and the mall had basically been bum-rushed by the town’s entire population because it was one of the few places guaranteed to have cold air pumping out of the ventilation system. But somehow the overflow of bodies condensed into one neon-lit sanctuary seemed to counteract any air conditioning, so it was humid and gross in the mall, and he’d been scooping ice cream for hours, so he was vaguely damp all over when he got into his car after his shift. With his car’s A/C cranked and his head rested back on the seat, he closed his eyes and sighed, feeling like he could finally exhale for the first time in hours.

In the midst of his decompression, a thought poked at his brain, and his eyes shot open to look at the time. 4:27. You got off work at 5:00, and it was about a twenty minute ride to the public pool across town, but he didn’t mind waiting those last ten minutes. So, he put the car in gear and set off.

By the time he was pulling up to the parking lot by the pool, so was the parent of every one of your campers. He surveyed the lot from afar and saw no empty spots, so he found street parking and knowing you couldn’t see his car from where you usually stood, decided to get out to meet you at the gate.

Sauntering past the droves of parents and their dizzy, sunburnt children in the lot, he finally spotted you at a picnic table by the pool with a couple of unaccompanied kids who had yet to be picked up. You looked magical from afar, playfully chatting with the gaggle of children. Your skin sheeny with sunscreen and your red lifeguard swimsuit reminding him of a hot yet professional Phoebe Cates. You were the image of summertime, and he took a second to compose himself before he looked at you too lecherously with so many kids around. Slipping past the gate, he maneuvered the chaos of camp pick up to sidle up next to you, where he brought a hand up to tug ever so gently on a lock of your hair.

Surprised, you turned in your seat to identify the culprit, but your shock melted into a toothy grin at the sight of your boyfriend. You opened your mouth to greet him when the boy next to you beat you to the punch.

“Hey! We’re not supposed to pull people’s hair.”

Bewildered by the interruption, Steve looked to find a little boy glaring up at him. Cheeks smattered with freckles and a little gap between his two front teeth, the kid would probably have been pretty cute if he wasn’t also staring daggers at Steve, so he stepped back with his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry, buddy,” he apologized, trying to get himself off the hook with his typical charming smile, but the kid’s brows just turned downward as his gaze swept up and down Steve’s height, surveying his competition.

In an attempt to de-escalate, you placed a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sammy, but you don’t have to worry. This is my boyfriend Steve, and he’s very nice to me.” Your tone was seeping with warm patience, and you offered Sam a comforting smile, but his face grew positively dismal.

“Your boyfriend?” he lamented. “What about our wedding?”

“Wedding?”

Steve had been content to let you handle this little boy (he does better with older age groups), but this mention of a wedding dragged him right back into the conversation. He didn’t like it, but he felt his cheeks burn pink with something in his stomach turning green and sour.

Despite his visible disdain, you missed any signs of Steve’s discomfort, only laughing heartily at the poor young boy’s earnestness. “Aw, Sam, I’m sorry I forgot. I’m still getting used to being a married woman!” you joked, successfully cajoling the kid into reassuming a sweet disposition.

“Married?” Steve restated his question, imploring you for context.

As soon as your gaze shifted back to him, he felt the weird stick in his chest ease a little, melting under your eyes as he always did. “Steve,” you started with the gleeful gleam in your eye that always shone when you were teasing. “I’m so sorry you had to find out like this, but Sam and I got married earlier. We exchanged friendship bracelets.” You held up your wrist with the evidence, a collection of colorful strings knotted messily with sporadic acrylic beads, and you gingerly placed your fingertips on Sam’s elbow, urging him to hold up his respective bracelet. With his skewed teeth on full display, Sam beamed as he showed Steve.

Steve squatted a little, placing his hands on his knees to view it close up. Sam’s bracelet was weaved nicely together in a fishbone pattern with an assortment of blues and greens, and he pictured you knotting it all together with nimble fingers. “Sam, I gotta admit: even though I’m not stoked that you stole my girl, these bracelets are pretty radical.”

Sam glowed with the praise, “Thanks!”

“Sam!” From behind Steve, Sam’s mom was waving and calling his name. “Sammy, we gotta go!”

Before you knew it, Sam was standing on the table’s bench to kiss your cheek and then running off to his mom. “Bye, [Y/N]!”

Your eyebrows were raised in mild surprise and amusement as you waved him off, and Steve was blinking profusely, stunned and unsure how to proceed.

“I can’t believe I just let another man make moves on you right in front of me, [Y/N/N].”

You laughed at that.

“Competition for my hand is fierce, Steve Harrington.”

He shook his head and scratched his neck. “I guess,” he marveled. “Man, I thought I’d had you locked down.”

Standing, you grinned up at him and slid your hands around his waist, and his hands reflexively grabbed your wrists, rubbing a thumb over your pulse. “I may have been unofficially married under that tree over there—” You jerked your head towards a nearby maple with streams of toilet paper hanging from the branches, the remnants of a really nice ceremony. “But you’ll always be my number one, pretty boy.”

His eyes were soft as the breeze as he gazed down at you, awed at his luck in snagging you. You reached up a hand to push an errant strand of hair out of his eyes, but he caught your wrist and fingered the poor excuse for a bracelet between his thumb and forefinger. “Hey, will you make me one of these? Can’t let some random kid be the only one to have a sick ass bracelet made by my hot girlfriend.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #steve harrington blurb

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dozing-marshmallow · 6 months

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chris mclean x reader when reader finds out they are pregnant?? Smth like that or just chris with his and readers baby? How he’d act like a dad or smth

I can’t lie, this motivated me since I always tend to think about how Chris would be as a dad 😭 Daily reminder to drink water and eat well everyone💗! Enjoy reading!

CHRIS MCLEAN AS A DAD HEADCANONS

Chris definitely has thought about being a parent during his occupation of hosting a show of teenagers.

He just didn’t expect that thought to become a thing so soon.

He used to internally mock a lot of the contestants’ parents for the way some of them turned out. Now here he was, worrying how his seed will bloom.

Having children actually did appeal to him, he’s just aware that being a dad would require a lot from him and he wasn’t sure if he could dedicate himself to that for the next few decades or so, especially at a time where his career was opening so many opportunities for him.

You were excited, holding the positive pregnancy test to him,“Isn’t this amazing, Chris? I’m holding your baby! You’re gonna be a dad!”

“It really is mine, huh?” He blinks, scratching the side of his head,“Sorry if I don’t sound excited or anything... It’s sorta hard for me to feel sentimental about this kind of stuff instantly.”

“Don’t worry.” you kiss his cheek,“You’ll feel something, sooner or later.”

He nods in consensus,“‘Course! But don’t take it that I’m not happy; when you first told me, I wanted to celebrate by pouring ourselves a glass of fine wine...just for me to remember you can’t drink alcohol for the next few months.” he chuckled at the last part.

“Chriiis...” your saliva was now filling the back of your mouth at the thought of that strong daring drink,“Why would you say thaaat?”

“Don’t worry! If it makes you feel better, I’ll give it up for you until the baby comes. Until the baby comes... Huh.” a bemused look crawls on his skin,“Never thought I’d say that.”

“Didn’t you think about having a baby before, Chris?” now it was your turn to blink.

“That’s a question you can ask anyone, (Y/N).” his eyes slide around,“But sure. It’s about time I passed my amazing, talented, good looks down the family tree.”

You made it clear to Chris that while you were in full agreement to spoiling the baby, you wanted them to know about gratitude and patience.

Chris was set on your condition, because there was no way he wasn’t going to spoil this child.

He has money to spend.

Often, you have emotional outbursts, thinking you’re ugly and that Chris was going to leave you for a more attractive woman.

”It’s no fair...” you sobbed,“If my body was going to be made to give life, why is it reacting so dramatically?”

Chris wasn’t cruel enough to involve your side effects of pregnancy with his sadism,“Dramatically is a big stretch... It’s your first time, you haven’t done anything like it before.”

“True... But I’m worried you don’t think I’m attractive anymore. I mean.” She scanned him up and down,”You haven’t changed one bit this entire pregnancy and here I am, a weeping sack of fat. I wouldn’t be surprised if...if...you...saw other girls...”

“(Y/NN)...” he gently lays his head on your tummy,“I know being on TV may have made you super insecure, but you’re still the same beautiful thing I fell in love with. Pregnant or not, no other gal could be as cool as you are.”

He wasn’t going anywhere,“Thanks...Chris.”

Also if you wanna know how the contestants reacted...they were horrified. For a variety of reasons- the future of the child’s life with a dad like Chris, what Chris had to do to even conceive that child etc.

The only ones that properly congratulated you were DJ and...

Yeah, just DJ.

You knew their reasons to be concerned, but you trusted Chris to be a good dad, even if he was eccentric, both on and off TV.

When labour rolls around, you’re clutching Chris’ hand. At contractions, you would bite onto the edge of his shirt. He knows he has no right to tell you to calm down, so he uses his other hand to pet your head and his mouth to tell you everything was going to be fine.

Thanks to all the remedies Chris bought for you during the pregnancy, the birth was bearably fast and you didn’t suffer any complications.

It was all worth it, to hear the crying of your reddening flower, alive and well, seeing the face your and Chris’ DNA fused.

You had never been more grateful for him.

One of the few times he cried. Holding that bawling bundle of love, the paternal sentiment dawned on him at last, in the room of white on a cloudy day.

“So... I’m...a dad now...” he settled, looking down at the scrunched up face of the baby he’s made, wet nose twitching,“Hey there...”

You nod, peering over, whole family in tears,“Welcome to the world, sweetheart.”

He was a lot more affectionate than he thought he would be. He enjoys cradling the infant, keeping an eye on her as you rest, feeding her, as part of his routine.

He always finds a way to include her in any conversation he has.

Even at night, when she cries and he’s woken up, groggy and heavy-headed, it never fails to bring a smile on his face, that it was his baby he’s shushing back to slumber.

The baby loves feeling around Chris’ face and his black hair whenever he holds her on the couch.

And we all know how tight a baby’s grip is.

Well Chris didn’t until his daughter held a batch of his hair in her first for an hour.

“(Y/NNN)! Make her let go of me!” he begged you, holding her away as far as her stubborn arm would allow, having enough.

Rather than assisting him, you remained where you were and chuckled at the little one’s mischief,“She must really like your hair.”

“I like my hair too, but you don’t see me grabbing it for an hour!” he whined.

Hearing her dad’s harmless frustration, the baby giggled and let go.

Chris froze. With his ageing umber eyes, he locks them onto the fulgent new, squinting from smiling, eyes of his baby. Next thing you knew, he juxtaposed what he was whining about ten seconds ago by bringing the soft face of his daughter right onto his, stroking, sniffling,“I have the most adorable baby in the world...!”

Though being a dad did undeniable changes to Chris, he was still him, you know? No amount of children could ever erase his personality.

For example, you’ve caught him several times trying to get the baby interested in violent movies and sharks.

“Chris! You’ll scare her little mind half to death!” you scold, picking her up from his side.

“What, like our generation didn’t grow up with scary stuff? She can handle it, put her back down!” he argued, annoyance gracing his gorgeous face.

Considering she’s Chris’ child, she probably could.

It’s not surprising that Chris would feed any offspring of his the tv show he was most famous for and even bring her on set.

You admit you felt a bit unsure about her being exposed to a lot of the content of Total Drama, but you knew, without a scent of doubt, Chris would keep her safe by all costs.

He’d do this thing where as he’s addressing his viewers on Total Drama, he’d have the baby on his lap and she’s just mindlessly looking around or sucking his hand. He’d give her a remote control to release something dangerous like a bomb on the campers and laugh when she unintentionally activates it by putting it inside her mouth.

Rewatching old episodes though, the child squealed every time Chris came on screen, Dama! Dama! (Drama! Drama!)

You weren’t surprised when she cooed “Dada” before “Mama”.

There you go, she had two names for Chris. You?

Nothing.

Were you upset by it? Eh, maybe a little. You found the more important part being your husband discovering to really enjoy being a dad to a child who really loves him too.

You turn to see Chris playing peek a boo with her.

Mother’s paradise.🌺

#chris mclean x reader #tdi #td chris #tdi x reader #chris mclean #total drama #total drama chris mclean #request #total drama island chris #td chris mclean x reader #total drama chris #total drama headcanons #total drama scenarios #dad chris mclean

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wheresarizona · 1 year

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Learning to Live Part 17

summary: It’s the day Javier is moving in with you, but can he keep it in his pants long enough to unpack and get settled in?

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Soft Javier Peña, alternating POV, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, sex in the bed of a pickup truck, breeding kink, vaginal fingering, biting, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, emotions, LOTS of banter, fluff, domestic fluff, death of a parent/grief, emotional hurt/comfort, Javier saying very romantic things, Javier modeling cute little swim trunks, stargazing, stargazing as foreplay, a deep dive into Javier’s wardrobe and things)

pairing: Javier Peña/f!reader

word count: 17.4k+ (are any of us surprised?)

a/n: Hello there! I hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter! The song stuck in my head for this chapter is Home by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros. Shoutout to @theorganasolo for helping me out with reference pics of Javi’s wardrobe and @iamskyereads for giving me a rundown of what he wears. Thank you to the love of my life, @juletheghoul, for betaing.

I answer comments from my sideblog @wheresarizona-writes

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

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The summer in southern Texas was almost unbearable with how high the temperatures got. Every home and business needed to have air conditioning, and you hoped and prayed it worked in your car; otherwise, you were driving down the streets with the windows down, getting hit with a hot, dry breeze that didn’t do much for your sweating skin. It made you feel bad for Javier and his family working outside on the ranch, making sure he wore sunscreen and having him promise you he’d stay hydrated throughout the day.

You frowned, knowing that he had to move in such sweltering conditions—imagining all of the boxes and furniture, him refusing your offers to come over after work and help, assuring that he had it all covered.

That morning he told you he would be late getting home—your shared home, and you both smiled, his key to the apartment lovingly fitted on his keyring between the one to his truck and his dad’s house. He would be packing his things when he got off and begin bringing them all over. Your plan after work was to clear out a dresser and make room for him in the closet. If he brought over furniture, you’d just have to figure out where to put it, wanting Javi to feel as comfortable and at home as possible.

With all he had to do, you figured it’d take him well into the night to load up the bed of his truck with stuff, assuming he’d need to make more than one trip. It was a bit of a surprise that while you were in the living room, you heard the front door being unlocked only two hours later than usual.

The door opened, watching Javi come inside, holding two black duffle bags with his keys still dangling in the lock.

“Cielito!” he called. Taking a step into the entryway, he continued, “I’m—” His voice trailed off when his head turned, and his attention landed on you, him pausing, those beautiful brown eyes of his rounding. “...what are you doing?” he asked slowly.

His confusion was warranted, seeing as your hands and feet were pressed into a lavender-colored foam mat on the floor near the large front window—your hips were lifted high up toward the sky, looking at him upside down through your legs, him clearly staring at your legging-covered ass.

You were focusing on your breaths, holding yourself in the position.

“Yoga,” you answered on an exhale.

“You do yoga…?”

Another inhale, slowly letting it out.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Started when we got together.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Why…?”

Breathe in, breathe out.

“To stay limber.”

“For what?”

This wasn’t the best pose to hold a conversation in, but his question had you smirking, replying, “When you bend me like a pretzel in bed.”

That had his eyes visibly darkening, seeing his throat bob.

“Fuck,” he gasped, the bags getting tossed onto the ground with a dull thud, him shoving the door shut with his keys still in it, a man clearly on a mission as he made his way over to you.

There was a reason you did yoga while Javier was away—the man had no self-control, and some of the positions would be far too tempting for him to stay away, which was why you were not surprised when he ended up behind you, his hands grabbing onto your hips.

“I love coming home to you,” he rasped. “In our apartment—this is the best housewarming gift.”

That was a little sweet.

A hand left you, landing hard on your ass in a loud smack that sounded throughout the room, making you shout, “Javier,” while trying to keep your balance.

He squeezed the plump flesh of your asscheeks, pressing his groin into you to feel his jean-clad bulge.

“Sorry, baby.”

“You fucking liar—stop distracting me. I’m trying to breathe through this pose.”

“You can keep breathing.” He rubbed his big hands over what he’d been squeezing. “What’s this one called?”

“Downward-facing dog.”

“Mmm.” He hummed. “I like it.”

“Of course you do.” Your arms were beginning to tremble. It was getting too hard to stay up. “There’s another you’ll like, you fuckin’ perv,” you said, getting down onto your hands and knees, feeling his eyes on you as you balanced your weight evenly.

“I’m not a pervert,” he said a little defensively. “Just admiring the woman I love’s body.”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, your spine in a straight line. “You have zero ulterior motives.”

Inhaling, you tilt your pelvis, sticking your ass out, drawing your navel in to drop your belly down, gently lifting your head, relaxing your shoulders, and looking straight ahead in the cow pose.

“Fuck, baby,” Javi groaned. He dropped to his knees, shuffling to get behind you again, gripping your waist. “Yeah, I love this one.” He let you feel that he was already half-hard.

Exhaling, you moved into cat pose, tipping your hips forward, tucking your tailbone, rounding your spine, and dropping your head, seeing your boyfriend’s legs between your own.

“Come back,” Javi said, hearing his frown.

Inhaling, you moved back into cow pose, your ass pushing back into his crotch.

“That’s more like it.”

He was so ridiculous.

“Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Is there something you should be doing right now?”

His fingers played with the waistband of your pants.

“Fucking you..?” he sounded hopeful.

“Babe, focus—we can fool around later. Go get your stuff. I’ll help as soon as I finish.”

“But—“

“Javier, we’ll get frisky when you’re done moving.”

“Fine,” he sighed.

A hand came down on your ass in a loud resounding slap before he got up with a groan.

“Javier!” you growled, glaring at him behind you.

He had the audacity to be smirking under that perfectly trimmed mustache of his.

“Sorry, Cielito,” he said. “I love you.”

It was embarrassing how hearing those three little words had the annoyance disappearing, feeling yourself soften.

“I love you, too,” you replied. He smiled big. “Don’t think that’s gonna always work, mister.”

“Right…” He started making his way toward the door.

“It’s not!”

“Okay, baby,” he said over his shoulder. “Whatever you say.” He was pulling open the door and getting his keys out of the lock. “I’ll be back—love you.”

He was gone, the door softly shutting behind him before you could reply, huffing out a breath and focusing back on your yoga.

God, you loved him.

You had done a couple more poses by the time he returned with his arms full of garment bags and jackets—spotting denim, tan, laurel green, and olive green, the pile getting laid on the back of the couch.

He was staring.

“I like that one, too,” he commented, slowly walking toward the door.

Of course he did with you lying on your back, holding your feet that were up in the air, your legs spread, gently rocking side-to-side.

“I’m sure you do.”

“What’s it called?”

“Happy baby.”

“Makes me pretty fucking happy.”

“Go away!” you playfully shouted.

He chuckled, closing the door as he left.

You’d finished your exercise rolling up your mat and storing it away in a corner of your living room when you heard a struggle at the front door, walking over to pull it open and finding Javi holding a big box.

“Thanks, baby,” he said, moving it so he could look at you with a smile. “Did you finish?” he asked, coming inside and setting the box by his duffle bags.

“Yep,” you answered, shutting the door.

It only took a couple of steps to have him in your space, his hand cradling your jaw as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly.

“Hi, Hermosa (Beautiful),” he said when he broke it, a loving look in his eyes and a happy little smile on his lips, trying to pull you in for a hug, but you stopped him.

“Hi, Handsome,” you replied, leaning in to kiss him quickly. “I’m all sweaty and gross—we’ll shower when we’re done. Do you want help bringing in the rest of your stuff? How many more trips do you need to make to your dad’s?”

He frowned.

“This is everything…” he said slowly.

Your eyebrows knitted together.

“Like this trip?” You looked at the things he brought in—the pile of jackets and garment bags, the two duffle bags, the large box. “I feel like you definitely could’ve fit more in the bed of your truck. Were you just in a hurry to see me?” It wouldn’t have surprised you if that was the case, meeting his eyes again.

“No…” He scratched at the back of his head. “This is everything…”

“What do you mean this is everything? Don’t you have furniture or more stuff?”

“Cielito.” He looked pained. “This is all my shit.”

That had your eyes going wide.

“You’re joking,” you reply, not believing him. “Don’t you have stuff from Colombia? Or before Colombia?”

He sighed.

“In Colombia, the apartments were fully furnished, so all I had were my clothes and shit. Before, I, uh, lived with people? My parents, a dorm, Lorraine, then I was in the DEA academy, rented a room for a bit in someone’s house that had furniture while waiting to find out where I’d be sent.”

“You’ve never had your own place...” Your voice was quiet, remembering when he said he didn’t know anything about bedding, now realizing it was because he’d never had to buy any.

“I’ve never had my own place,” he confirmed, and it broke your heart.

Your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

“Javier,” you said in a serious tone, seeing his throat bob. “I need you to understand something.”

“Okay…” he whispered.

“This apartment is yours as much as it’s mine—it’s ours. You have a say in everything. Hell, if you hate my furniture, we can go buy new stuff. I want you to decorate how you want and buy knick-knacks; I want you to love living here and feel like it’s your home.”

His eyes had gone misty, a small smile on his lips, rubbing his hands along your sides.

“It already feels like home,” he said softly. “I already love living here.”

“You haven’t even moved in…”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I’ve been here almost every day since we started dating, and I’ve felt at home.”

Warmth spreads through your body, feeling happy.

“Good.” You smiled. “Because I want you here, and I’m over the fucking moon that you’re living with me. Please do what you want. Make this your space. Hey, we could even put that Farrah Fawcett poster at your dad’s in our bedroom if you wanted.”

He huffed out an amused breath.

“Always gonna give me shit about it, huh?”

Patting his cheek, you replied, “Of course, babe.”

“She can stay where she’s at”

“If that’s what you’d like.”

His eyes darted away.

“There’s one thing…”

“Okay?”

“You don’t have any pictures hanging on the walls or anywhere…”

You frowned, looking around and realizing he was right. On your walls hung seascape paintings and a clock. There was a photo album tucked away on your bookshelf where you put all of the photos your family sent, never having any want to display them and be reminded on a daily basis of your perfect parents or your perfect brother and his perfect family—out of sight and out of mind, was how you preferred to live.

“There aren’t any I’d want to put up…” you said carefully.

“I get that with how fucked your family is.” He sighed, squeezing your hips. “I’m just wondering if you’d be okay if I put up a couple of my mom and dad? And some of us, eventually?”

Based on all of the photos hanging on the walls at the ranch, it made sense that Javi would want some here, too, him wanting to see pictures of his mom, who’d passed away some years ago. It warmed your heart how much he loved his family.

“Of course, Javi,” you replied, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks. “I’d love having pictures of them decorating our walls. You know how much I love your parents.”

Even though you’d never met his mother, Javi, and his dad, Chucho, had told you so many stories about her, it felt like you knew her. She was a fantastic woman who’d raised such an incredible man, and you loved her dearly, right alongside Chucho, who’d welcomed you into their family with open arms and practically adopted you.

Meeting your gaze, Javi crookedly smiled. “They love you, too.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”

Pulling you closer, he slotted his lips against yours, kissing the breath right from your lungs.

“Thank you,” he said when he pulled back, and you knew he meant it.

“Nothing to thank me for. Now, let’s start unpacking.”

On the wall behind the front door was a row of coat hooks where your three coats were hung along with Javi’s black leather jacket. While he took the duffle bags to the bedroom, you tackled his pile of coats, having to move things around on the hooks to make space. You started with the blue denim, then the tan number you were delighted to find had unzippable sleeves that would turn it into a vest. The laurel green jacket was similar to the tan one but wasn’t convertible, and the olive green was made from a denim material.

The coat hooks were more than filled by the time you were done and had you wondering why a man needed so many jackets. Shaking your head fondly, you walked back over to the couch to pick up the garment bags that held his suits, your arms full as you made your way into the bedroom.

“We’re gonna need more hangers,” Javi said when you entered the room, finding him with the closet door slid open and a duffle bag open on the ground beside him.

He was in the process of hanging button-up shirts in a myriad of colors and designs. Walking closer, your eyes bulged when you looked in the bag to see it was full of them and a few plaid shirts—the red one you were familiar with, another that had thick black lines with thinner orange ones and squares of white, and the last that was white and dark red. The closet would be filled entirely with his shirts, suits, and your collection of dresses.

“We’re gonna need a bigger closet…” you said under your breath, thinking that when you eventually got a house, you’d probably need his and hers for all the clothes. Holding out the garment bags, you asked, “Can you hang these up?”

Turning, he answered, “Yeah,” taking them from you and hanging up all seven, pushing them all the way to the wall on the empty side of the closet, bending down to grab another shirt when he finished.

“So,” you started. “You don’t have a lot of shit, but you’re really into clothes.”

“What?” he asked, his eyebrows creased as he straightened, holding a pink button-up.

Pointing at the duffle bag, you said again, “You’re really into clothes.”

“They’re just my shirts…”

“In every goddamn color of the rainbow, there are patterned ones, too. Plus, your variety of jackets for every occasion and seven suits.

“There are six suits—one of the bags has my sports coat…”

“A jacket for every occasion!” He was frowning. “How many pairs of pants do you own?”

He thought for a second, mentally calculating.

“Eight,” he mumbled.

Your eyebrow arched.

“All tailored jeans?”

“No… one pair is… corduroy,” he sighed.

“You are really into clothes!” you accused, poking him in the chest.

“I just like to look good…”

“And you always do, babe.”

His arms moved, crossing them over his chest while still holding the shirt, cocking his hip.

“Why are you giving me shit about my shirts when your pretty fucking dresses take up almost half of the closet?”

“Um, because I was not aware of how many you had and that the entire time we’ve been dating, we could’ve been the couple that color coordinates their outfits.”

He visibly perked up, giving you a look.

“You’d, uh, be into that?” he asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling. “We’d be so cute with my dresses and your shirts.”

He grinned.

“We would.”

“Ugh, I love you,” you said, moving closer and leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you, too,” he murmured against your lips.

Moving back, you said, “I’ll take care of the other bag.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

The remaining duffle bag was at the foot of the bed, the thing a bit heavy as you hauled it over to his tall chest of drawers. It matched your dresser, made from oak with a white finish and dark bronze-toned hardware. His had five drawers; yours was shorter but wider, against the opposite wall with the bed, containing seven drawers and a mirror.

You let it fall to the ground, bending down and undoing the zipper, throwing back the flap to reveal his socks and underwear atop the rest of his clothes.

“Any preference for where you want stuff?” you asked him. “I’m assuming socks and undies in the top drawer. Then do you want me to do your t-shirts or pants?”

“Socks and underwear in the top drawer,” he answered. “T-shirts, jeans, other pants, and bottoms.”

“You got it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled, grabbing as many pairs of socks as possible and pulling open the top drawer to put them in.

You got the first drawer done, starting on the second. There were seven t-shirts—three were plain and white, one Fleetwood Mac shirt that was lovingly worn and you thought was originally black but had been washed so many times it’d caused the color and the white writing on the back with the tour dates to fade—this must’ve been a favorite of his. A navy blue one with DEA emblazoned on the front in yellow, the material thin from him wearing it a lot. Next was a maroon t-shirt that on the front had Texas Aggies on it and the Texas A&M University crest; the white printing cracked, the shirt fuzzing and pilling in spots.

There was a black shirt that you were confused by, holding it up as you read it, needing to know the story behind it.

“Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

You were sitting on the carpet with your legs under you.

“I need to know what this is all about.”

You moved it in your hands, turning to hold it out for him to see what it said.

He shuffled in place to face you, his eyes squinting as he read the big lettering, seeing a smile curl up on his lips, Javi snorting.

“Steve got it for me.” He pointed at it. “He had the other one.”

“I’m having a tough time picturing Steve and you wearing matching ‘I’m with stupid’ shirts…” It had an arrow pointing to the left under the writing.

He scoffed.

“No.” He shook his head, amusement on his face. “Wouldn’t be caught fucking dead doing that. I wear that shit when I visit him, and we go out for a drink.”

“Oh my god, you’re an asshole to your best friend.”

“He deserves it.” Javi shrugged.

“I really want to meet him.”

“You will.” He nodded. “He wants to meet you. Connie, too. They won’t get off my ass about it, but—” Javi sighed, resting his hands on his hips while he frowned. “—I visited them a couple of months ago, and they’ve got the new baby. No matter how many times they say it’s okay for us to visit, I don’t want them to worry about us staying with them.”

“We could always stay somewhere else?”

An exasperated breath left him, smiling fondly.

“Connie wouldn’t let us,” he said. “She’d be fucking pissed if we tried. I was, uh, planning on going over there in December? And if you wanted to, instead of seeing your family, we could—”

“I’m in,” you cut him off.

Spending time in Florida sounded way better than going to your home state to visit your family, who didn’t much care for your career or choice of boyfriend and were always putting you down. Seeing the Murphys would be a lot more fun, and you were dying to meet Steve and Connie, having heard so many stories about them and their kids.

He smiled big.

“Then we’ll plan on it.” He nodded, going back to putting away his button-ups.

The t-shirt was folded and set with the others, leaving one more that was also black, unfolding it to see that it had the Jack Daniel’s logo on it.

“I didn’t realize you liked whiskey this much.”

Javi snorted over at the closet.

“I don’t,” he said, not turning around. “Another gift from Steve–-I threw away the Marlboro one.”

Your eyebrows dipped together.

“Were you a heavy smoker and drinker?” you asked.

He’d told you he quit smoking after leaving the DEA and that it was okay for him to have the occasional cigarette, but if Steve was buying him shirts with these brands, then that meant his friend associated him with these things.

“I, uh, smoked a lot—quitting was a bitch. I drank a lot, too, but I wouldn’t say I was an alcoholic.”

“Coming back to the States really changed you,” you mused. “We’ve had one post-sex smoke, and the only times I’ve seen you drink something harder than beer or wine was on our first date and when we went dancing last weekend.”

Looking over his shoulder, his eyes were round.

“I’m happier now,” the words came out thick. “I don’t need that shit anymore. I used to be so fucking miserable and stressed that I needed the vices to get me through it. I, uh, cut down on my drinking when we met. Being here with you, I’ve never been happier or better in my entire fucking life. I love you, Cielito, so fucking much.”

You were feeling a little teary-eyed.

“I love you, too, Javi.”

All the shirts were put away, and you started on his jeans.

Before Javi moved in, he had a drawer to keep clothes in, so as you filled the chest, you put those things away, too—a pair of jeans, an army green t-shirt, a red one in the same style, a few pairs of socks, some grey sweatpants, and one pair of white boxer-briefs.

Once the denim was in its rightful place, next up were the corduroy pants and sweatpants. Your eyes went wide when you pulled out some swimming trunks, holding them up and trying to picture Javi in them—they were salmon pink, and there was no way they’d reach even halfway down his thighs, thinking they were much better than what you imagined he’d wear to the beach.

“Well, I’m all out of hangers,” Javi sighed.

“We can get some later,” you replied distractedly, still staring at the shorts. “Take off your pants.”

“What…?”

Turning your head toward him, he had a confused look on his face.

“Take off your pants and put these on—I need a visual.”

“Right now…?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “You made me model my lingerie purchases last week when I brought them home. It’s your turn.”

A pink tint appeared on his cheeks, the man no-doubt remembering the lacy, deep purple crotchless teddy you’d gotten that barely covered your breasts and left your intimate parts out in the open.

His throat worked as he gulped. “Those were sexy…”

“These are sexy.” You held them up. “Pants off!”

He sighed, walking closer to you, his fingers deftly working to unbutton his shirt.

“Why are you taking off your shirt…?” you asked.

He’d gotten it completely undone, standing next to you, shrugging it off, and tossing it onto the bed behind you.

“You asked for a visual,” he said, his belt clanking as he undid it. Popping open the button of his jeans, hearing the teeth pull apart as he moved down the zipper, him continuing, “I’m gonna give you the whole fucking show.” His pants were lowered to his ankles, and it was not surprising at all to see his soft cock right there in front of your face. He’d freed his sock-covered feet, holding out his hand and taking the trunks, watching in interest as he pulled them on.

As you suspected, they didn’t make it halfway down his thighs.

He stood there with his hands on his hips, his weight to one side, your eyes drinking him in—the noticeable bulge in the front, moving up to the trail of hair below his belly button, his soft tummy, his pecs, those broad shoulders of his, seeing dark hickeys, and some faded littered across his chest, and along his neck, him smiling knowingly under his mustache down at you.

“Yeah,” he said. “You fucking like them.”

Sitting up, you moved to face him, rubbing your hands up his thighs, getting your fingers under the shorts, and looking up at him through your lashes.

“I do,” you purred. “Turn—”

He didn’t even let you finish, already turning in place so you could see his butt.

Javier’s ass wouldn’t be classified as voluptuous by any means, but you were pretty sure he’s been eating more since you got together because the man had developed a bit of a booty. There was more of it now, than when you first met, seeing the evidence with how the swimming trunks were a little tight as they hugged and accentuated it.

Damn, he looked good. Front, back, you loved it all.

Those cheeks begged to be touched, and you gave in, hands grabbing the plump flesh, hearing Javi chuckle.

“God, I love your butt,” you said, massaging him.

“I know you do.”

Letting go, you stared at it again, admiring and appreciating the roundness. It was practically a compulsion; not sure why you wanted to do it, feeling like his ass was a magnet pulling you in, and it had you leaning forward, sinking your teeth into the pillowy softness of his asscheek.

Javi jumped, yelping, “Fuck!” Detaching you from him, he spun around with his hands holding his ass, looking betrayed.

“Sorry!” you apologized quickly.

“Why is it always my ass?”

“There’s just something about it that makes me wanna bite it like an apple.”

He was frowning.

“My ass?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Your butt makes my brain go chomp,” you said, showing him your teeth and biting them together. “I thought you were into biting?”

His eyebrows creased together.

“What?”

Your eyebrow rose.

“You’re really gonna pretend like you’re not always biting me during sex? Javier, you bite me all the time.”

“That’s different.”

“Says the man who’s bitten my ass on multiple occasions for the hell of it. I see, so there’s a double standard, and we can only have one ass biter in this relationship.”

“You can bite me,” he said a little too quickly.

That was an interesting response.

“You didn’t seem to like me doing it…” you said slowly. “What am I missing?”

He sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead.

“You bit where Enrique got me, and it just surprised me.”

Enrique was a big asshole of a horse at his dad’s ranch who’d bit Javi’s ass the first time he took you there less than a month ago, his buttcheek still sporting a giant yellowish-green bruise.

Your eyes rounded.

“Oh, shit!” you exclaimed. “I forgot—I’m so sorry, babe.”

His hand dropped, meeting your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he reassured. “Thank fuck, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Grimacing, you replied, “Yeah. I’m still sorry.”

“I promise it’s okay, baby.”

“If you say so.” Your brain was thinking back on one of his comments that had you wondering something. “Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Theoretically, let’s say we’re fucking, a face-to-face position, and you’re hitting it so good, just really railing my brains out, giving me that top-tier dick and I happened to bite your shoulder or neck, you would be…” you trailed off.

“Really fucking into it,” he answered right away.

That had you smiling.

“New kink unlocked! How fun. Can’t wait to do that one.”

He chuckled.

“I can’t wait, either. Will you hand me the tie box?” he asked, pointing toward the bag.

“Yeah,” you replied, twisting your upper body to reach behind you to grab what he asked for.

It was a black rectangular wooden box with glass on top and tall enough to hold his rolled-up ties and belts. Looking inside, there were twelve compartments, ten of them filled with ties, while another had a black belt, and the other had cufflinks, handing it over to him. He set it on top of his dresser while you put away the other two pairs of swimming trunks in the same style as the ones he was wearing, just in different colors—black and army green.

The duffle bag was now empty, Javi moving around you to bend down and pick it up, taking it to the closet for storage. The other one still had shirts that needed to be hung, and you both agreed to run to the store after you finished unpacking. Walking back over to you, he offered you his hands, which you gladly accepted for him to help you up from the floor.

You were standing in front of him, asking, “You gonna put your clothes back on?”

He smirked, his hands landing on your hips, rubbing circles into them with his thumbs.

“Why would I want to put anything else on when I’m almost naked?”

“That’s a good point,” you said, nodding. “You hate clothes and only wear them around the apartment, so I’m not constantly distracted by your dick.”

“You’re distracted by my dick even when I wear clothes…”

“Have you seen it?” you asked. “Like that’s a dick that needs to be immortalized—worshipped—Fuck, if he wasn’t dead, I’d have Michelangelo carve me a goddamn statue of you naked ‘cause you’re a fucking masterpiece.”

A laugh sputtered from his lips, his dimple appearing and his eyes crinkling at the edges as he started laughing.

Your brows furrowed.

“Why are you laughing?” you asked, playfully hitting his bare chest. “I’m being serious. I’d pay good money for a statue of you, and honestly, if Disney movies have taught me anything, it’s that it’s completely reasonable to have a statue of your boyfriend to thirst over.”

“Are you talking about the mermaid one?” he asked after calming down.

“Yeah.”

“They weren’t even together. She was just obsessed with him,” he pointed out.

“And he was obsessed with her. That’s beside the point.” You pouted. “I’m now very upset that I can’t have a beautiful marble statue of you naked.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he replied, kissing you softly. “Just ask, and I’ll be happy to get naked for you any time.”

“Promise?”

“Oh, yeah.” He moved to look you in the eyes, a smirk on his lips. “You could even take pictures if that makes you feel better.”

Gasping, you replied, “I can have nudes of you?”

One of his eyebrows rose.

“Yeah? You let me take pictures of you. I’d be a dick if I didn’t return the favor.”

“You’re the fucking best, and I love you.”

His face softened.

“I love you, too.”

Slanting his lips against yours, he kissed you tenderly, your hands moving up to thread your fingers in his hair.

A minute passed before you were separating, both smiling at each other.

“We should finish unpacking, so we can finally shower,” you said.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Grabbing his hand, you started leading him out of the bedroom.

“So, what’s in the box?” you asked.

“Shoes, books, shit from my bathroom, other shit.”

“A lot of shit,” you teased.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

Arriving at the box, he pulled open the top that hadn’t been taped shut.

“Javi?”

He looked at you.

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Did you bring over your mom’s rosary?”

It had beautiful red beads, and a silver cross, his mother giving it to him before she died.

“I did.” He nodded. “I already put it in my bedside table.”

“Would you want to get a small jewelry box for it?”

He fondly smiled.

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Then we’ll get one.” You nodded.

The box wasn’t all the way full, pulling out his shoes first—two pairs of Oxford’s in brown and black, some cowboy boots that you discovered he occasionally wore out and about, and most surprising, a pair of nice chocolate-colored leather flip flops. They were all put on the floor behind the front door with your own shoes, mentally adding a shoe rack to the list of things you needed to buy when you went to the store.

A black pouch had the things he used to trim his mustache, Javi taking that, a razor, and some other toiletries to put away in the bathroom. A case held a spare pair of Aviators, which went onto his dresser, along with his bottle of cologne and sunscreen. Another case, had his reading glasses that were put atop his bedside table. He’d brought his Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Hobbit, and some other books that had worn spines and were clearly his favorites, finding homes on the bookshelf in the living room. He’d pulled out some pictures from between the pages of Return of the King that included him at different ages with his mom, a couple of him and his dad, and Javi with both of his parents. The plan was to pick up picture frames to hang them all up, pointing at places around the living room they could go, making Javi smile.

It looked like only one item was left at the bottom of the box, your eyebrows pulling together when you reached in to pull it out.

The chestnut-colored teddy bear had seen better days, the white on its ears and paws discolored, stitches showing where it’d been sewn back together in spots, the toy lacking in stuffing to make it a bit floppy. It was a raggedy old thing from years of being cherished, and you loved it immediately.

“Who do we have here?” you asked him as you straightened, smiling.

Javi took the stuffed animal from you, gently.

“You probably think it’s really fucking weird I have this,” he said softly. “His name is Osito, and he’s as old as me.”

There was embarrassment flaming on his cheeks, not meeting your gaze.

When you’d gone to Chucho’s for the first time, he’d pulled out photo albums filled with pictures of Javi growing up, and now that you were thinking about it, you remember seeing this stuffed animal in many of them when he was little.

“Your favorite toy?”

“Yeah.”

“Can’t get rid of it?”

“No.” He scratched at the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’ve always kept him at the ranch—didn’t want to travel with him. Figured since we’ll be living together for a long fucking time, I’d bring him. If that’s okay…?” he sounded unsure. “Fuck, this is weird. I’m a grown man who can’t get rid of a fucking teddy bear. I’ll take it back to my dad’s, and we can forget about this.”

He was spiraling, and you needed to make him feel better.

“Come with me,” you said, taking his empty hand and having him follow you through the living room and into the bedroom. At the closet, you stood in front of your half of it, letting go of Javi to slide open the wooden door. “Had I known about Osito,” you said, reaching up on the top shelf to move a bag aside, grabbing what you were looking for hidden in the back. “I would’ve introduced you to Pooh-bear sooner.”

Turning around, you showed him your own raggedy childhood stuffed animal—a Winnie the Pooh bear, the golden brown terry cloth of his body stained in some places and poorly done stitching in others to keep him together, his red shirt having faded a little over time.

Javi had a warm smile on his face.

“Favorite toy?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Can’t get rid of it?”

“Absolutely not,” you giggled, hugging the bear to your chest. “He was a gift from my grandparents—the ones I loved who’d take me on adventures during the summer.”

“Your mom’s parents, right?”

There have been many stories told about each of your childhoods, and Javi was well aware of the month you’d spend every summer growing up with your maternal grandparents, traveling. They’d whisk you away to beaches, national parks, and theme parks, taking you on adventures and giving you a break from your parents.

Your favorite memories during those years were with them.

“Yeah.” You grinned. “Got him on my first birthday, and he’s been with me ever since.” Holding him up, you pointed to his leg, which was clearly sewn back on with black thread, saying, “I learned how to sew patching him up—my mom would’ve just thrown him out and gotten me a new one, but he’s special. So, I did all of these.” There were quite a few places that had to be stitched, a variety of colored threads used. “In my teens, I did cosmetic surgery on him and gave him fillers.”

Javi snorted.

“You put more stuffing into him?”

“Yes. He needed it, and after my grandparents passed away when I was in high school, I wanted to make sure he’d last.” You cuddled the bear close, something you’ve done so many times you’ve lost count.

“Yeah.” Javi nodded. He showed you Osito, seeing the very nice repair work where there had been tears, “Mi mamá did all of these ‘cause she knew how much I loved him.”

“Can’t ever get rid of him. He’s too damn special.”

“He is. Can’t get rid of yours either.” He pointed at it.

“Nope. Where should we keep them?”

“Closet?”

“Good call. They’ll be safe and hidden, so we don’t have to worry about them watching us have sex.”

Javi made a face that had you giggling, stepping out of his way as he moved to get into the closet. He pushed things around on the top shelf until he’d made room to set down Osito, him turning to gingerly take Pooh-bear and putting him right beside his bear so they were pressed together.

“There,” he said. “Safe.” He closed the closet door. “And they can’t stare while we’re fucking.”

“Thank god!” you laughed.

He turned to face you with a mischievous expression, quickly stepping closer to press his practically bare body to your front, his hands grabbing your ass.

“Speaking of fucking,” he rasped, slowly walking you back toward the bed while you held onto his shoulders.

“I said we’d fool around after you’re done moving,” your tone was exasperated, the back of your legs hitting the mattress.

“Nothing else to move,” he replied, gripping your thighs to lift them around his waist as he pushed you back onto the bed, him landing on top of you. His mouth attacked your neck, kissing and sucking at your skin.

“Javi!” you giggled. “We’re not done!”

“We’re done.” He nipped at your pulse point.

“No, we’re not—” the last word turned into a moan with him sucking hard at a sensitive spot. Pushing at his shoulders, you said, “Stop trying to distract me.”

His head came up to look you in the eyes, and his mouth dipped down in a worried frown.

“Am I being too much?” he asked. “I’ll lay off if you’re not in the mood…”

“What?” Your hands moved to stroke through the hair above his ears. “You’re fine, babe, and I’m definitely in the mood.” He smiled. “But I want to get you settled in before we retire to our chambers for the evening,” you said with a wag of your eyebrows.

Huffing out in amusement, he replied, “I’m settled in. I’m settled right where I want to be.” He leaned down, kissing a streak along your jaw.

As tempting as it was to give in with the arousal burning in your belly and feeling him half-hard at the apex of your thighs, things still needed to be done.

“You’re so fucking ridiculous,” you giggled, tangling your fingers in his hair. “We have to go to the store to get hangers and all the other stuff we need so you can finish unpacking, then shower time.”

He playfully nipped at your chin, moving to meet your gaze.

“Store run, put the shirts away. Anything else?”

“Get rid of the box.”

“And then I can get you naked?”

“And then you can get me naked.” You nodded.

“Okay.” He groaned as he got up from the bed to stand beside it, pulling you with him.

“Thank you for being understanding,” you said, pressing close to kiss him, his arms wrapping around your back.

“Once we’re done with everything,” his words were muffled into your mouth, his hands going low to grip your backside. “I’m hauling your ass into our shower and fucking you against the wall.”

Smiling into his lips, you replied, “Good.”

“Then,” he continued, “I’m taking you to our bed and eating your pretty little pussy until you beg me to stop.

Your cunt clenched at the thought.

“Javi,” you moaned, kissing him harder, his tongue pushing between your lips to slide along your own, getting your fingers into his hair. The kiss was quick, pulling back, panting. “You’re in a mood,” you said, smiling.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day.”

“You think about me every day,” you teased, smirking.

He crookedly smiled. “Well, yeah, but you said you love me—” He pressed a hand over his heart “—you love me. You asked me to move in, too, and Christ, I’m so fucking happy—I checked my keys too many times just to make sure I hadn’t dreamed it or some shit. Almost asked Pop to pinch me a couple of times, too—which, I annoyed the fuck out of him with how fucking out of it I was.” He let out a soft sigh. “It’s true. I think about you every day.” He nodded. “But today? I was thinking about the woman I love, who loves me, and that I now share a home with, and it fucking got me going that I was coming home to you—that I’ll come home to you every goddamn day for the rest of my life.” His eyes were locked on yours. “I’m in a mood for you because I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Your throat was feeling a little tight.

“Javier, I want to cry, but also suck your dick. You’re so fucking sweet. Like, I think there’s a chance I might melt into goo with how I feel right now.” He chuckled, your hands holding his face. “I’m so fucking in love with you it’s disgusting. Robyn, at work, made gagging noises multiple times today because I’d stare wistfully off into the distance daydreaming about you.” She had to snap her fingers in front of your face an embarrassing amount of times. “The feelings are more than mutual, and I am beyond happy to have you living here and knowing that you love me. Ugh, I love you!”

You kissed him again. This time, his hand slid along your jaw, his mouth slanting as he deepened it, making your toes curl. This was one of those all-encompassing kisses where he took up all of your senses to the point that the only thing going through your brain was him and how much you loved him.

He broke away when your lungs began to ache, both of you panting.

“I love you, Cielito,” he husked.

“I love you, too, Javi.”

He smacked your ass. “I’m gonna get dressed.”

“I’ll take care of the box,” you laughed, giving him a peck before padding out to the living room.

There wasn’t a need for you to change your outfit, comfortable with leaving the house in your yoga pants and t-shirt.

Arriving at the large cardboard box, you grabbed the edges, pausing when you realized something was still at the bottom. Confusion was on your face as you bent over to reach inside and grab the item—standing back up, you stared at the colorful VHS sleeve that advertised the brand of tape but no details on the front or back as to what was on the cassette, pulling it out and there being nothing written on the black plastic to give you any clues.

You wondered what could be on it, especially if your boyfriend brought it. Many possibilities were floating through your brain, the curiosity causing you to call out, “Javi?”

“Yes, baby?” His voice came from the other room.

“Did you bring a homemade porno with you?”

Could be something filmed or a recording of a dirty film he bought from someone.

“What?” His figure was immediately in the bedroom doorway with his pants on and hands stopped in their movements of buttoning up his shirt, leaving it gaping at his chest. “Did I bring a what?” he asked.

Holding up the tape, you repeated the question, “Did you bring a homemade porno with you?”

His eyes were squinting at it, looking just as confused as you felt, making his way over to you.

“I have no fucking idea what that is.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed—I don’t care if it’s porn. You’re well aware of my romance novels.”

He was next to you, taking the VHS from your offered hand, going through the motions of examining it just as you had.

“Cielito, I didn’t bring any porn or this.” There was worry in his eyes when he looked at you. “I’ve never seen this before—I didn’t pack it.”

“Well, how did it get with your stuff?” you asked. “It was under Osito…”

“He was the first thing I put in the box.”

“Where’d you get the box?”

“It was one I already had from Colombia, and I’d unpacked everything in it.”

“Did that come from Colombia, then?” you asked, pointing at it.

A look of fear came over him, seeing his face go pale and his eyes widen.

“I… I…” he stuttered. Swallowing hard, he tried again, “I don’t think so. I don’t even know what it��d be if it was.”

“Well, let’s put it in and see,” you said, shrugging. Reaching for it, he moved it away from you.

His voice went quiet and serious, “I need you to go into the bedroom while I check this out.”

“What? Javi, it’s fine. Just put it in.”

“No. I can’t risk you seeing shit you shouldn’t.” His eyes were pleading. “Please, baby, just go to the other room. I need to make sure it’s safe.”

His reaction had you worrying your lip between your teeth, wondering what horrible things he thought could be on the tape.

Nodding your head, you squeezed your arms around his middle in a quick hug before going into the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.

He said he didn’t want you to see something you shouldn’t, but he didn’t say anything about hearing, immediately pressing your ear to the wooden door.

The television came on, some show playing on cable for only a second, when the voices disappeared, knowing he turned it to channel three for the VHS player. You heard the various clicks as he put in the tape and then silence.

He muted the TV.

Of course, he fucking muted the TV.

Sighing loudly, you decided to stay put in case there were signs of distress.

Javi’s voice was barely above a whisper, hearing him say, “Amá?”

The sound on the television suddenly came on, the familiar laugh of Chucho being heard.

“Cielito!” Javi excitedly shouted. “Baby, come here!”

You’d never left a room quicker, flinging the door open and sprinting into the adjoining living room to find Javi crouched in front of the glowing TV.

The screen wasn’t in view, but you could hear Chucho speaking Spanish with a woman whose voice you didn’t recognize, Javi waving you over.

“Cielito, baby, come here.” Turning, he pushed the coffee table behind him against the couch to make space for him to sit on the rug in front of the entertainment center, pulling you into his lap when you got within reach. His arm was around your middle, holding you close, his other hand pointing at the screen, his head close to yours as you both watched. His words came out thick with emotion, “Cielito, I want you to meet mi mamá.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off the television seeing his mom in the kitchen at the ranch, his dad recording her standing at the stove, adding red chile sauce to shredded pork in a big pot.

The video was grainy, the colors brighter than they should be, but there was his mom with her hair up in a tight bun, wearing her baby blue apron to keep her pink blouse clean, looking lovingly exasperated with his father’s antics. The date in the bottom corner said it was filmed on December 11, 1984, which means she was prepping to make tamales.

His eyes were watering, his throat closing up as he heard her speak with the voice he remembered so well, not how she sounded the last and final time he saw her. She looked so full of life here, and he felt like his heart would explode from how fucking happy he was—it may not be in person, but his Cielito was getting to meet his mom, or at least see her alive, and hear her speak.

“Mi amor,” Chucho said behind the camera. “¿Cómo hiciste la salsa de chile rojo (My love, how did you make the red chile sauce)?”

“Ya sabes cómo la hice (You know how I made it),” Antonia replied, looking toward him with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

“Sí, pero díselo a la cámara, por favor (Yes, but say it to the camera, please),” his dad chuckled. “Nuestros futuros nietos necesitan saber (Our future grandchildren need to know).”

A sweet little smile pulled up on her lips, her eyes brightening. “Bueno, para mis nietos, si (Well then, for my grandkids, yes). Pero sólo los nietos (But only for the grandkids). Es una receta secreta (It’s a secret recipe).”

Javier’s chest squeezed tight, his breath hitching in his throat, feeling like a fucking disappointment that there wouldn’t be any grandchildren to pass this on to.

Cielito loved him, that was a fact, but would she still love him after discovering all the dirty details of the things he’d done in South America? His biggest fear was she’d find out about everything—the good, the bad, the ugly, and be so horrified she ended things. This was why he was too chicken-shit to get it all off his chest. She may have been supportive when he revealed the other unsavory things from his past, but Colombia was different—people died, many people died, and the blood was on his hands. That asshole, Stechner, told him in that bar he should’ve been in jail for all he’d done, and the other man wasn’t wrong—Javier had been genuinely surprised to be given a cushy office instead of a cold, dank cell.

Fuck, he was so frightened this tape had anything to do with the DEA. He was ready to destroy it without even watching it, not wanting to risk his girlfriend getting a glimpse of what he’d seen and done.

It was inevitable that she’d find out because he planned to tell her at some point. He just hoped that she wouldn’t leave him or think too differently of him when the time came. Knowing the truth would solidify the fact that he wasn’t the good man she thought he was and that he definitely wasn’t someone worthy enough to father her children—he didn’t deserve kids and never would.

It felt like he’d been stabbed in the gut, letting the tears fall as the sadness weighed his body down, mourning something he’d never even gotten close to having. He pulled her closer, hugging both arms around her, happy he got to have her at least, and that was all he needed.

“Wait,” she said, turning her head to look at him. “This video is for your kids?” she asked.

His mom was on the screen giving step-by-step instructions on how to make the sauce while she made the tamale filling.

Wiping at his eyes, his voice was rough when he answered, “Yeah. Shit, I should’ve asked if you needed me to translate. She said she’d only tell the recipe to her grandkids because it’s a secret.”

“You’re okay.” She kissed his cheek. “I can make out some of the words they’re saying and got that she’s giving her top-secret tamale recipe to her nietos (grandchildren)—your children.”

“Yeah, Pop probably snuck this into the box for you to see her cook.”

He’d done his best to make sure his dad knew he wouldn’t be fathering a new generation of their bloodline, but Chucho was so fucking optimistic.

She frowned at him, asking, “Can you pause the video?”

He grabbed the controller beside him on the floor, hitting the button to freeze the screen. Moving in his lap, she straddled his thighs, their chests touching, her face close to his, looking him in the eyes while pushing her fingers in the hair at the back of his head.

“Javi?”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt this beautiful home movie and seeing your mom, who is amazing, by the way.” He smiled. “I don’t think your dad put this in the box for me, as sweet as that’d be. He said it was for your children—” His heart started pounding. “—and with us using the ‘L’ word and moving in together, I think this was his way of subtly kicking you in the ass about how much he fucking wants grandkids.” Stroking her fingers through his hair, she continued, “You get this panicked look when kids are brought up that you’re giving me right now, and it makes me think you don’t want any, but you started crying when your mom was talking about your children getting her recipe, and I want to know, with being your partner and all, do you want kids?”

Blood was pounding in his ears, definitely feeling the obvious panic on his face because how did he explain he wanted kids, but if she knew about his past, she wouldn’t even fathom the possibility of having any with him? He’d fucked up his chances at becoming a father and wasn’t good enough to be one, anyway. Any children he brought into this world would be ashamed to have him as a dad.

“I… I… Uh…” he was stumbling. Taking a deep breath, he thought about how he could answer the question. “It, uh.” He stared at the tv to avoid her gaze. “It, uh, doesn’t matter if I wanted kids, I’d be a terrible father, and you wouldn’t want to have any with someone like me.”

“Javier, what the fuck are you talking about?” Her hand cupped his cheek, making him look at her. “Someone like you? You’re a wonderful man who's so full of love and cares so much. We have two non-human children that you dote on! You’d be a wonderful father, and you can’t tell me otherwise.”

“You don’t know everything about me…” he whispered.

“So? Doesn’t mean I’ll love you any less.”

“You might…”

She snorted.

“Highly doubt it, but you can tell me if it’ll ease your mind.”

He grimaced. “I… can’t. Not yet.” Sighing, he continued, “Let me just enjoy what we have before the other shoe drops.”

There was a prominent frown on her lips.

“That’s extremely ominous… A couple of questions.”

“Okay…?”

“Like, were you secretly some kind of serial killer?”

“What? No. Why do you keep asking if I’m a fucking serial killer?”

She’d asked on their first date, too.

“Because Javier, you keep saying extremely suspicious shit!” Her voice went low, trying to mimic his, “‘I’m worried you won’t like me after I tell you about myself.’ ‘Let me just enjoy what we have before the other shoe drops.’” She spoke normally, again, “Like, either you’re secretly a serial killer or a fucking vampire.” Gasping in shock, she pressed her hand to her mouth. “Javier,” she said his name in a serious tone, “All of the biting—is your deep dark secret that you’re a vampire? You can tell me; you don’t have to lie. We can keep it between us.”

His eyes narrowed, processing what she’d just said, so caught off guard he felt unbalanced.

“A vampire?” he asked. “The fuck? The creatures with fucking, uh, fangs that drink blood? Fucking Dracula?”

He’d read the book in college and thought it was okay. Supernatural shit wasn’t really his thing unless it was written by Stephen King—he enjoyed The Shining, both the book, and film.

“I’ve never seen you drink blood…” She had a suspicious look on her face. “But if you were an undead creature of the night, it would explain all of the brooding and self-loathing you do—you’re basically Angel from Buffy.”

He was so fucking confused—how did they get here?

“Brooding…? Self-loathing…?” he questioned. Javier wasn’t broody… Right? Shit, was he broody? He gets the self-loathing part, but brooding? And who the fuck was Angel? “I’m not a vampire… Or brooding,” he said defensively.

“Sure, Javi.”

“I’m not,” he grumbled. “Why would you think vampire?”

“It’s insane, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah. It is. Just like how you keep fucking thinking that telling me about the shit that happened in Colombia will make me hate you. I love you. All of you, even the dark pieces you hide from me.” She poked him in the chest. “And if you think I don’t have an idea of what went down, I’ll have you know I followed the news about the cartels because we dealt with a lot of fucking overdoses in the city.” Javier swallowed thickly, knowing she worked in Dallas for years—of course, she saw firsthand what the drugs were doing. “I swear most of the hospital went to the bar to celebrate the day Pablo Escobar died.” Her face softened, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “I know you dealt with horrible fucking shit, and it’s going to be really hard to talk about, but I can promise I’ll still love you after you tell me. I don’t care about anything you did back then—the good far outweighs the bad. I also know you’d be a terrific father, especially with how concerned you are about your past. You’ve got some shit you need to work through, and it’s gonna take us some time, but I’m here. Javi?”

He felt… really fucking stupid and loved, tears threatening to spill, him choking out, “Yes, Cielito?”

“The two takeaways from this conversation should be, I love you, no matter what, and I would fucking love to have your babies, if that’s ever something you’d want.”

Shock settled over him, his eyes big and eyebrows in his hairline.

“Really?” he breathed.

It seemed too good to be true. Maybe he’d misheard.

She gave him a smile that could’ve outshone the sun with its radiance.

“Oh, yeah. We’d make the cutest kids, but we gotta get you outta that head of yours first.” She tapped her finger on the side of his skull. “I’d also like us to be married, too. We’ve got time, and we’ll get there. Just know I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re stuck with me.”

That warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his veins, Javier so happy.

“You’re the one stuck with me.”

“A couple of dumbasses stuck together—I love us.”

He smiled.

“I love us, too.” His hands moved, cradling her face in his big palms, smiling. “Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, putting everything he had into the kiss, hoping she could feel his love, devotion, that he was the happiest man on the entire fucking planet.

Final kisses were placed to her lips, each cheek, her chin, and finally her nose, her mouth turned up in a dreamy smile.

“You’re a cutie,” she said, looking at him.

“I think you’re pretty fucking cute, too,” he replied with the same expression.

Her head got closer, her chin tilting up, “Chomp,” she said, softly biting the tip of his nose.

An amused breath left him.

“Are you a vampire?” he asked.

She pecked his mouth.

“Ha, no,” she answered. “I love the beach too fucking much. Let’s finish watching the movie.”

Before he knew it, she was comfortable sitting in his lap again with his arm around her, resting her head against his shoulder, him pressing the play button.

His mother’s voice filled the air, a comforting sound that felt like he’d been wrapped in a cozy blanket, hearing her veer off from the recipe into an anecdote, her holding up her hand and clenching her fist.

“She’s talking about how mi abuela (my grandmother) would squeeze the red chiles with her hands at the kitchen table—it was before blenders,” he translated.

“Oh god, her hands must’ve hurt from the spice.”

“Mamá says she never felt the burn, even with the chiles being so fucking spicy.”

“Your mom did not use the word ‘fucking.’”

He snorted. “No, she said incredibly spicy, but same thing.” He shrugged.

“How did your grandma get it into the sauce consistency?”

“Wooden pestle and some kind of strainer, according to Mom—made it really fucking velvety.”

“Again, your mother did not use ‘fucking.’”

“No, but she says her mom’s sauce was better than hers, which I know is a fucking lie.”

Her hand came up behind her to pat his cheek.

“You’re a real mama’s boy, and it’s adorable—so your mom used a blender?”

“Yes, blender, then through a strainer with the pestle to get it smooth.”

“Okay, got it.”

His mom had moved her pot off the hot burner to let it cool, explaining her process for the corn husks and how she made the tamale dough, masa.

“She says,” he said, “the secret to keeping the tamales moist and flavorful is not being afraid to add fat.”

“I feel like I should be jotting down notes. What does she use?”

He smiled, loving how invested she was in his mother’s cooking.

“She uses lard, which is what they use in Mexico.”

“Good to know.”

Antonia was talking about the consistency of the dough and how smooth it should be, offering solutions if it wasn’t coming out right.

“Wait,” Cielito said, “What did she say about the cup of water?”

“That you drop a small piece of the masa into it, and if it floats, it’s ready, but if it sinks, you need to add more fat.”

“That makes sense.”

He watched his mom get a corn husk that had been soaking in a bowl of water to show how to assemble a tamale.

She sighed, looking at the camera. “Extraño mi Javiercito (I miss my Javier),” she said sadly. “El es mi buena suerte—siempre la comida me sale más rica cuando él está aquí (He is my good luck—the food always turns out better when he’s here).”

Javier felt tears gather in his eyes, Cielito lacing their fingers together over her middle.

“You were her good luck,” she whispered.

“Yeah, I was.”

Was him being so far away from home why she got sick? Had she needed his luck? He let the questions leave his brain as quickly as they came, not wanting to dwell on things he couldn’t change.

“Sé que lo extrañas, mi media naranja (I know you miss him, my soulmate),” Chucho replied, sounding just as sad. “Lo extraño también (I miss him, too). Su cumpleaños es en dos días (His birthday is in two days). ¿Tienes un mensaje para él (Do you have a message for him)?”

“¿Pensé que esto era para los nietos (I thought this was for the grandchildren)?” Her eyebrow was raised.

“Lo es, pero sabes que Javiercito también lo verá (It is, but you know Javier will watch it, too).”

She straightened, excitement showing on her face. “¿Tal vez con su futura esposa (Maybe with his future wife)?” Javier sucked in a breath. “Espero que conozca a una muchacha buena que sepa cocinar (I hope he meets a nice girl who knows how to cook). Le enseñaré cómo hacer todas mis recetas (I’ll teach her how to make all of my recipes).”

“What did she say about your future wife?” Cielito asked.

A tear rolled down his cheek, his words coming out rougher, “That I’d watch this with her and how she hopes my wife is a nice girl who knows how to cook so Mamá can teach her all of her recipes.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, she woulda fucking loved you and been so happy I found you.” More tears fell, squeezing her to him in a hug while her head moved to kiss his jaw, him turning to meet her lips.

“Cálmate, amor (Calm down, love),” Chucho chuckled. “Él tiene que conocer a una muchacha primero (He has to meet a girl first).”

He looked at the screen, seeing his mom frowning. “Está tan ocupado con el trabajo (He’s so busy with work). Seré una anciana cuando la encuentre (I’ll be an old woman when he finds her).”

It felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart that she died before he found his Cielito, thinking of all the time he wasted working and being unhappy.

“¿Tienes un mensaje para él (Do you have a message for him)?” His dad asked again, sounding amused.

She nodded. “Sí. Mijo, por favor apúrate y encuentra a tu media naranja para que pueda tener nietos (Yes. My son, please hurry and find your soulmate so I can have grandchildren).” His dad laughed, Javier crying harder.

“Oh, babe, are you okay?” Cielito asked.

Her head was turned to look at him, Javier meeting her gaze.

“Yeah, she just wanted grandkids as bad as Pop,” he said through the tears, using a hand to wipe at them.

“I know, baby,” she soothed. “One day, she’ll get them, and they’ll be very aware of their Abuela Antonia, who loved them so much before they were even born.”

His heart squeezed tight at the thought, wiping his wet hand on his jeans and pressing it against her cheek.

“I’m so fucking happy I have you,” his voice was throaty, eyes on hers. “Thank you for loving me so goddamn much and wanting kids with me.” His bottom lip was wobbling, taking a deep breath. “I didn’t think anyone would want that with me—didn’t think I fucking deserved it with all the shit I’ve done. I… promise I’ll tell you one day, and I know—believe me, I fucking know, you’ve made it clear you’ll still love me, and I trust you. Trust you with my fucking life. I love you, Cielito, and I knew my mom would love you, too, but this video—” he pointed at the screen with his free hand. “—fucking proves it. She would’ve loved cooking with you and teaching you her recipes, and Christ, she would’ve been so happy I found such an incredible woman. I hate that she’s not here to see me like this.” His voice cracked. “I wish she could see me so fucking happy.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, holding her close while his shoulders shook, letting the emotions leave him to wet his cheeks, her hand a comfort on the back of his head.

“I’m happy to be here, Javi,” she said softly. “I love you, too, and would’ve loved meeting your mom. Seeing her cook and hearing her speak has been lovely. She’s really wonderful.”

“Mi Javiercito,” his mother addressed him, like she had a thousand times before, his head popping up to look at the television to find her staring into the camera with a loving smile. “Estoy muy orgulloso de ti y de todo lo que has hecho (I am so proud of you and all that you’ve done). Eres un hombre bueno con un corazón grande y harás cosas increíbles, lo sé (You’re a good man with a big heart and you’re going to do incredible things, I know it). Eres mi bendición, mi buena suerte, mi hijo que amo con todo mi corazón, y solo deseo que seas feliz y saludable (You are my blessing, my good luck, my son who I love with my whole heart, and I only want you to be happy and healthy).” She smiled mischievously. “Y que encuentres una mujer que te ame y te trate bien para que pueda tener nietos para mimar (And to find a woman who loves you and treats you right so I can have grandchildren to spoil).” His mom laughed, making him smile, missing that sound so much. “Te amo, Javiercito (I love you, Javier). Feliz cumpleaños y acuérdate que te extraño más todos los días y desearía poder ver tu sonrisa (Happy birthday and remember that I miss you more everyday and wish I could see your smile). Te amo, nene (I love you, baby boy).” She blew him a kiss.

“Yo también te amo, Amá (I love you, too, Mom),” Javier whispered, his mom now showing how to assemble the tamale on screen. Seeing her there and hearing her speak, it felt like she was here with him, so he told her what he wished he could. “Seré honesto contigo, mamá, no me siento como un hombre bueno (I will be honest with you, mom, I don’t feel like a good man). No sé si estarías orgulloso de las cosas que hice (I don’t know if you would be proud of the things I did).”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, his words muffled, “Es difícil (It’s hard),” he continued. “Pero estoy aprendiendo a vivir con lo que he hecho y seguir adelante (But I’m learning to live with what I’ve done and move forward).”

A little smile turned up on his lips, when he looked up, saying, “Mi amor me está ayudando, y ella también piensa que yo soy un hombre bueno (My love is helping and she thinks I’m a good man, too). Amá, dijiste que querías que encontrara a una mujer que me amara y me tratara bien, y lo he hecho (Mom, you said you wanted me to find a woman who loves me and treats me right, and I have).”

A contented feeling came over him, the woman resting her head on his shoulder, watching the movie. He knew she could hear him, and he was thankful she gave him a sense of privacy while he spoke softly.

“Ella es perfecta—ella es cariñosa, dulce, comica y una cocinera increíble (She is perfect—she is loving, sweet, funny and an incredible cook). La hubieras amado, mamá (You would’ve loved her, mom). Habrías podido ver cuánto me ama (You would have been able to see how much she loves me).”

He pressed his hand over his heart as he said, “Mi novia me ama (my girlfriend loves me). Y yo también la amo, más de lo que hay estrellas en el cielo (And I love her, too, more than there are stars in the sky). La llamo mi Cielito, y ella realmente es el cielo (I call her my little heaven, and she really is heaven).”

His mother was on the screen, moving around the kitchen to make more tamales while she chatted with his dad.

“Nunca he sido más feliz, Amá (I have never been happier, mom).”

He sniffed, using his hand to get off some of the wetness on his face. His voice was thicker when he started speaking again, “Ella quiere tener hijos conmigo—tendrás a tus nietos y estoy emocionado (She wants to have kids with me—you will have your grandchildren and I’m excited). Es un sueño hecho realidad (It’s a dream come true). Nunca pensé que sucedería pero ella me ama, mamá (I never thought it would happen but she loves me, mom). Completamente (Completely). Lo bueno y lo malo, ella lo ama todo (The good and the bad, she loves it all). Te extraño mucho pero quiero que sepas que estoy feliz y saludable como usted quería (I miss you a lot, but know I am happy and healthy like you wanted). Te amo, Amá (I love you, mom).”

She looked at the camera, smiling brightly, and it felt like she’d heard all he said.

They made it a point to go out on a date at least once a week.

A thing Javier loved about Cielito was she never expected him to wine and dine her at the most expensive restaurant in town or take her to some party where she knew more people than he did—no, his Cielito just wanted to spend time with him and didn’t really give a shit where they went.

Dinner? The movies? A drive? A walk around downtown? All acceptable options, and they took turns deciding what they’d do.

The weekly dinner at his dad’s didn’t count as a date and was more them spending time as a family and bonding. It was revealed that the video of his mom making tamales had come from Chucho’s small collection of home movies he’d filmed over the years, him going through it after meeting Cielito for the first time to find ones they could watch for her to get to know Antonia, thinking that one was the perfect introduction—it had been, but a little warning would have been nice, instead of Javier feeling like he had his heart fucking ripped out.

It was the Saturday before he was supposed to start his new job with the Webb County Sheriff, taking Cielito to the ranch for dinner, the two of them spending a little bit of time out on the land seeing their bovine children—the two cows he’d practically raised from birth, Daphne and Velma. They’d sat on the grass, with Cielito in his lap and the girls lying beside them, watching the sunset. This week was his turn to plan a date, and she’d thought that was it, but Javier had a surprise for her.

They went back to his dad’s when it started getting dark, hanging out on his couch with him, watching an old video of one of Javier’s college swim meets, which Chucho had recorded, complete with commentary from both of his parents in attendance. He’d been thankful it was a match he won, Cielito very impressed with his skills and unsurprisingly handsy when they got out to his truck to leave.

She’d been confused when they left the driveway and went the opposite direction of the town with only the headlights to guide them down the road, him pulling off the pavement after a while and jumping out to open a gate, not worrying about closing it with no cattle out this far.

Javier was a romantic, and tonight he didn’t feel like being out in public, wanting to have a quiet night with the love of his life, just relaxing and enjoying each other's company someplace that wasn’t their apartment—which was how they ended up out in the middle of nowhere on his father’s land, the night air warm, lying atop the blankets and pillows he’d stashed before they left home in the bed of his truck. She was snuggled up against his side, her head cushioned on his chest, his arm around her back with his fingers drawing shapes on her dress-covered hip, his other hand holding hers over his belly, both staring up at the clear sky full of brightly shining stars.

“They’re just so big and bright,” she said in wonder, and it made him smile.

“It’s all the wide-open space—not much light pollution out here.”

The Milky Way was visible, seeing the star clusters, dust lanes, and nebulas glowing, along with the myriad of other glittering stars amongst the dark backdrop everywhere the eye could see. No other place he’d traveled to had this kind of view, and he could stare at it for hours, struck by the beauty and in awe of the expansiveness, always humbled by the fact that what he was looking at was billions of years old—his mother had seen these same stars, his mother’s mother, his ancestors, along with every other fucking person on the goddamn planet, have seen these same stars.

Time slowed down when he stared at the night sky, the dark and quiet, peaceful, the lights slowly drifting over him, feeling so tiny in comparison to the vastness—it was calming, a reality check that the universe was so fucking big, his everyday problems and worries were nothing—they didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

“It’s so fucking beautiful,” she said.

“It is. I can only think of one other thing that beats it.”

“You’re a liar. There’s nothing else prettier.”

“Yes, there is.”

“I’ll humor you. What in the world is better than all of this?” she asked, moving her head to look up at him, his own propped on a pillow, tilting his chin down to meet her gaze, smiling.

“You—” he said, her eyes widening.

“That’s actually very sweet—”

“—Naked,” he interrupted.

“Oh my god, Javier,” she replied in exasperation, rolling her eyes. “You’re so fucking ridiculous.”

He chuckled, leaning to kiss her head.

“It’s the truth. You know any constellations, baby?”

“A couple.” She untangled their hands, both looking back up at the sky as she pointed her finger. “Little Dipper.” Her hand moved to point out another familiar shape. “Big dipper. Which are both part of bigger ones—Ursa major and minor.”

He raised his finger. “See how those ones look kinda like a man with no head—the arms and legs?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Hercules.”

“He’s big.”

“Yeah. Then if we go back over to the little dipper.” He pointed in its direction. “Over there is the head, and it moves down for its body—that’s Draco.”

“Oooh, it’s a dragon.”

“Tilt your head that way.” His hand moved over her to point up. “You’re into that star shit, right?”

“Astrology, you Sag, and I dabble.”

“Uh-huh, what’s my sign?”

“Your sun is Sagittarius, moon Capricorn, and ascendant is, fuck, uh… I looked it up; oh, Scorpio!”

He scoffed.

“Right, you dabble…”

“Yes, and just so you know, our signs are very compatible, thank you very much—the stars agree we should be together.”

“I knew there was a reason I loved stars.” He kissed the top of her head again. “Well, let me show you one of the zodiacs. There’s the body.” His hand moved. “The horns. That’s Capricornus or Capricorn, which you said was my moon—whatever the fuck that means.”

“It describes your emotions and stuff below the surface—basically how you think of yourself.”

“And mine…?” He wasn’t sure how to phrase the question.

“Is right on the money. Serious, loving, loyal, and you kinda repress your emotions to stay rational. Makes sense you were so good at your job.”

He didn’t buy into astrology—seemed a little too far-fetched that the stars had anything to do with how a person was, but he had to admit, it got some things right, which was probably just a coincidence.

“I guess…”

“Wait, do you know where Sagittarius is? The archer? That’s you.”

“Uh,” his eyes moved to the area where the cluster of stars should be on the horizon, finally spotting them. “Over here.” He pointed. “There’s his body, then the bow.”

“Javi?”

“Yes, Cielito?”

“Are you an astronomy nerd?”

“Remember my dad saying I wanted to be an astronaut?” Chucho had mentioned it when she was looking at a picture of him as a kid watching the moon landing.

“Yeah?”

“I was obsessed with space and stars, and we’ve got such a great fucking view of them out here.” He held his hand out toward the sky.

“It is a great fucking view. Okay, keep talking dirty to me—this is amazing foreplay,” she said, cuddling closer to him.

“Yeah?” he chuckled, arousal simmering in his gut. Lowering his voice to that tone he knew drove her wild, he pointed to another constellation, asking, “See those three and the two that come down from it?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Look familiar, baby?”

“Scales.”

“Yeah—Libra,” he rasped. “These bright ones next to it are Scorpius or Scorpio, then there’s me, Sagittarius.” The archer situated beside the scorpion.

“Why is this so sexy?” she whispered.

“I’m not done, Cielito,” he husked, and a soft sound came from her throat, thrilling him.

Javier was thankful the stars were glowing so brightly he could make out the patterns, thinking he should be able to spot almost twenty with where they were and the time of year, showing her more constellations scattered all over the night sky above them.

He spoke in a deep timbre, making it through five more when her hand found its way to the front of his jeans, gulping as she started rubbing over his dick.

Blood rushed to his groin, continuing to talk, him hardening quickly under her touch. It was becoming difficult to think—his eyes moving from the stars to her body next to him. She’d gotten this new sundress in a similar pattern to the button-up he was wearing—it was a sexy backless number that showed ample cleavage and had shoulder straps he could untie, which meant a couple of tugs, and her tits would be free. His eyes were locked on her chest, imagining it bare, her straddling his hips, the skirt of her dress bunched up while she bounced on his hard—

“Are there no more?” she asked, turning her head, trying to look as innocent as possible with her hand on his cock.

He’d apparently stopped talking, getting so caught up in his thoughts. His dick was hard and throbbing under her hand, pressing against his zipper.

His tongue wet his bottom lip, meeting her gaze as he answered, “There’s more…”

“Show me.”

“I can’t with your hand on my dick…”

Her lips turned up in a smirk.

“Too hard to think?” she teased, squeezing him.

“I’ll fucking show you how hard I am,” he growled, quickly turning toward her. The gasp of surprise she made turned into a moan when his mouth found hers in a searing kiss. His large hand curved around her jaw, his tongue teasing her bottom lip as he kissed her slow and passionately, the tension rising to have him licking into her mouth, wanting to taste her.

He loved her softness—her lips, her skin, her body, all of her was so fucking soft, and he couldn’t get enough of it, would never get enough of it, wanting to touch her all over, feel her body give to his contrasting hardness.

Rolling her onto her back, he was half on top of her, propping himself up on one arm while the other hand eagerly pulled free the knot on her shoulder, tugging down the fabric to free her breast. He palmed the familiar weight of it, tweaking her pebbled nipple between his rough, gun-calloused fingers, her moaning from the sensations. He nipped at her bottom lip, smiling at her breathy noises, tilting his head to bite her chin before kissing under her jaw to her neck, sucking hard on her pulse point.

“Javi,” she gasped, threading her fingers into his hair.

He knew how much she loved her tits played with, his big hand holding the bare one while he leaned down to latch his lips around her stiff peak, giving it the worship it deserved—licking, sucking, nibbling.

“Oh, god,” you moaned, his attention sending sparks of pleasure to your core, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache. “Feels so good, Javi. Fuck, touch me.”

He came off your breast with a wet pop, his fingers pinching the hard nipple.

“You want my fingers?” A spike of arousal shot through you at the thought. “Want me to touch your pussy? I bet you’re fucking soaked.” His hand trailed down your belly, going lower to your thigh to grab the hem of your dress, pulling it up to uncover your panties. He cupped over your lace-covered cunt. “Mmm, you’re so wet for me, Hermosa.”

“Want them, Javi.” You bit your lip.

“Yeah?” he asked, his thumb making slow, firm circles over your covered clit that had your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing getting shallower. “Need me to make you come before I stretch open this tight little pussy on my cock?”

You clenched at his words. “God, yes.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, pushing his hot palm into your underwear, your hips bucking at the contact.

The stars above were so bright, they offered some illumination to see the smirk on Javi’s face, him leaning forward to slide his nose down the bridge of your own, nudging it when he got to the tip.

“My needy girl,” he purred, pushing two fingers through your slit, gathering your slick to work your sensitive bundle of nerves, making you gasp at how good it felt.

Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, working them open while his mouth moved back onto yours in a filthy kiss, all teeth and tongue, the strokes of his digits igniting the fire in your belly, feeling it growing hot in your center. There was heat spreading just under your skin, rubbing your hands over his bare chest, moaning loudly when he pressed one thick finger inside you, then another. You needed something to hold onto, settling for Javi’s hair and gripping it tight while he started pumping his fingers, his thumb lazily circling over your perky little clit.

Everything was forgotten—the stars, being in the bed of his truck—none of it mattered. The only thing on your brain was Javier and how he was coaxing you closer to Nirvana with his talented hand and lips on yours, feeling like you were burning from the inside out.

The muscles in your belly were tightening, his tongue tangling with your own, rocking your hips against him. The end was in sight, feeling the familiar build, your brain going fuzzy when Javi crooked his fingers, zeroing in on that one spot only he knew how to find.

The fire inside you was growing thicker and hotter, his thumb pressing harder, rolling your engorged bud to spur you on.

His mouth came off you, pressing his forehead to your sweaty one.

“You gonna come for me, Cielito?” he husked. “Gonna come all over my hand? Gonna be my good girl and let me have it?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“I know. You’re always so fucking good to me. Hear how wet you are?” The sounds were lewd between your legs, bordering on obscene, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his fingers. “Gonna get you wetter,” he said, pushing his fingers into that heavenly spot over and over again while his thumb worked your sensitive clit.

Your noises were getting louder, so close you could taste it.

“Come on, baby,” he rasped. “Give it to me—come for me.”

Your breathing choked out, your body curling in on itself as you fell over the edge, clenching hard around his fingers as you came, pleasure spreading through your veins.

“There it fucking is,” he said. “My good fucking girl.”

His fingers kept working to extend your high, the waves rolling through you, riding them out.

He smothered your face in kisses while you came down—your cheeks, chin, forehead, nose, closed eyelids, lips, getting everywhere he could reach while murmuring how good you did, how beautiful you are, how much he loved you, how he loved seeing you come, making you feel all warm and fuzzy.

Your cunt stopped spasming, and his hand left you, opening your eyes to be greeted with the sight of him licking his fingers clean, him moaning at the taste as he got it all.

He finished, his hand rubbing your arm and side while he met your gaze, saying, “You taste so fucking good. I wanna eat your pussy when we get home.”

There was a lazy smile on your lips, your body feeling amazing.

“I’ll be full of your come.”

He groaned, eyes closing for a second before meeting yours again, his fingers digging into your hip.

“Then I’ll clean you up.”

Your eyebrow arched.

“With your tongue?”

He smiled crookedly.

“Oh, yeah.”

Giggling, you playfully hit his chest. “You’re nasty, but I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His hand smoothed up your tummy to between your breasts. “I wanna be inside you. How do you want it?”

“What a gentleman,” you replied, patting his cheek. “I’m riding you.”

“Are you?” he asked, amused.

“Yep. On your back, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled, giving you a quick kiss before settling on his back with his head on a pillow. You heard the sounds of him working open his belt and his zipper being undone while you shimmied off your underwear.

When you finally shuffled in place to turn toward him, he was a sight to behold—his head propped up by pillows, watching you with his shirt hanging open, showing his chest and soft belly, spotting some dark and some faded love-bites over the expanse of his golden skin, his big hand stroking his hard cock, seeing the tip darkened and shiny from precum.

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you almost couldn’t believe this was your boyfriend.

Javier Peña was yours. He loved you, was going to marry you one day, be the father of your children, the person you grow old with, and above all else, he was the love of your life. There would be no other. There could never be another. He’d intertwined himself so deeply within you it felt like your souls were one—there was no you without him. He was your everything, and you were his, and you loved him so much it sometimes felt overwhelming.

“What are you thinking about, Cielito?” Javi asked, taking you from your thoughts.

“How much I love you, and that I can’t believe you're my boyfriend,” you answered truthfully.

He smiled.

“Believe it, baby,” he said. “I’m all yours—all of me belongs to you, and that won’t ever fucking change.”

“I’m all yours, too. Forever.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Please, sit on my dick.”

“And you called me needy?” you asked. Sitting up on your knees, you bunched your dress at your waist with one hand, the other pressing to his chest for balance while lifting your leg to straddle his hips.

“Yeah, and I am, too—want you so fucking bad.”

You could tell from the look on his face and how his hand came off his cock to spit on his fingers, using it to slick up his shaft, holding it in position for you.

“Hey, Javi?”

Lowering down, the tip of him nudged your entrance, his eyes landing on yours.

“Yes, baby?”

“Is this seat taken?”

Amusement showed on his face for only a second, it quickly pinching in pleasure as you sank down onto him with no warning, his eyes fluttering closed, mouth falling open—your head fell back as his thick cock stretched you open, filling you inch by glorious inch, taking your breath away when you finally bottomed out with how full you felt.

“Fuck, I love how you feel inside me,” you said, looking down at him.

He blinked open his eyes, his hands now on your hips, keeping you still. “I love being inside you.” His words came out rough, seeing his throat work as he swallowed.

“I know you do. You gonna let me move?”

“Yeah.” He nodded his head. “Want you to use me, Cielito,” he rasped. “Treat me like your fuck toy and get yourself off—wanna feel you soak my dick.”

He’d lessened his grip, allowing you to roll your hips, his cock pressing into all the right spots along your sensitive walls.

“You want me to use you?” you asked, lifting your hips agonizingly slow until just the tip remained.

“Yes,” he replied, his tone a little desperate. “Please.”

“As you wish,” you said, dropping back down, the sensation pulling a moan from your lips.

He wanted you to use him, so you did, bouncing on top of him, his fingers digging into your hips again but allowing you to move at a punishing pace that had you panting. He was groaning under you, reaching up to untie your other shoulder strap to let the top of your dress fall. Javier was staring, clearly mesmerized by your breasts swaying with your movements, his hands moving to palm them, teasing your stiff nipples, the sparks of pleasure ramping you up.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He looked and sounded wrecked.

“You’re very handsome yourself,” you said through breaths, smiling down at him.

“Fuck, I love you—take what you want.”

“I love you, too.”

Heat was building at the base of your spine, his cock spearing up inside you, feeling so good with how far it delved into your depths, thinking there was a chance he was rearranging your guts.

The truck’s shocks were squeaking with every rise and fall of your body, rough sounds coming from both of your mouths, disturbing the peacefulness of the summer night. Leaning forward, you held yourself up with an arm beside his head, kissing him while fucking yourself on his cock. His hands grabbed your ass, helping you move when your thighs began to burn, the knot in your belly tightening and tightening with every rise and fall of your hips, your tongues sliding together in practiced movements.

You’re getting closer, needing something more…

“Touch me,” you said into his lips.

He broke the kiss, his glazed-over eyes looking into yours.

“Need me to get you there?” he husked.

“Yes.”

That was all the answer he needed, his hand gripping hard onto your hip to keep you steady, his other going to the apex of your thighs, thumbing your engorged little clit, and then he was thrusting up into you, hard.

Your mouth fell open, head landing in the crook of his neck, hearing him grunting with how hard he was fucking you. Moans stuttered from your lips, all thoughts leaving your head with your insides burning up until euphoria erupted in your center, sinking your teeth in his shoulder as you came.

A strangled moan came from him, his cock twitching inside you, your cunt clenching up so tight his pace faltered to a stop, pulling you down on top of him.

“There we go,” he groaned. “My good girl.”

The praise sent a tingle down your spine.

His breaths were coming out hard, a sheen of sweat on his skin. He hugged you close, rubbing his hands up and down your spine while your orgasm worked through your system.

Your brain was a pleasurable haze, your limbs trembling.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you croaked out.

His lap was soaked where they were connected, knowing his jeans would have wet spots from her come, and he didn’t give a single fuck—it didn’t matter, not when he was buried to the hilt inside the woman he loved.

He wouldn’t last much longer, not with her velvety walls hugging his cock all nice and snug, lulling him to his end with her warmth and wetness, almost making him blow his load when she bit him.

He’d staved off his orgasm as best he could. Every muscle in his body pulled taut, making him tense, and now he was ready to go. She squeaked in surprise when he rolled them, getting her on her back, his hips nestled in the cradle of her thighs, still inside her tight heat.

A pillow was under her head, him pulling her legs high on his ribs, crashing his mouth to hers, needing to kiss her as he started moving, strong even strokes, working himself in and out of her sopping cunt.

He loved how her legs shook against his sides, knowing it was from coming hard, her pussy slick and slippery, the wet friction making his head spin.

There was one thing, though, that kept his stamina from wavering, fuel to keep him going—a thought that had been plaguing him for almost two weeks since the idea was planted in his brain. It had him fucking into her with abandon, her fingers digging into his shoulders, hearing her gasp out moans of his name, pretty sure she was drooling with how he was railing into her.

All he could fucking think about was coming inside her, filling her up, over and over again, and needing to work it as deep as possible to fill every nook and cranny and keep her full of him.

He was now intimately aware of what this intrusive need was that’d been sitting in the deep recesses of his mind—the moment Cielito said she wanted to have his children, everything became apparent when he pictured her carrying his baby, something inside him coming alive, the instinct telling him he needed to fuck one into her.

It was fucking jarring, but the thought made him strain in his jeans.

He never imagined he’d have kids and did his fucking best to keep them from happening.

Before Cielito, he could count on three fingers how many times he’d come inside someone without a rubber, and fun fact, none of them were with Lorraine, who was adamant about condoms, which made her pregnancy claim extra surprising—telling him one must of broke.

It’d been rubbers since high school, and he sure as fuck wasn’t fucking without protection in Colombia during the height of the AIDS epidemic.

The only reason he’d even fathomed the idea of fucking Cielito raw was he trusted her—they had two dates that spanned many hours where they really got to know each other, and when she told him she was clean and on birth control, he had no reason to doubt it—staying at her place confirmed she was religious about taking her medication.

Which led him to now, where thinking there was even the tiniest chance of his seed taking root had his eyes rolling back.

The air was filled with the sounds of them fucking—slapping skin, muffled moans and groans, and the squeak of his truck rocking.

One arm kept his weight off of her, his other hand holding her breast while he desperately kissed her, his strokes becoming uneven the closer he got to his finish, her moaning into his mouth, her hands squeezing his ass inside his jeans.

She loved knowing the things that riled him up in bed, but this was one he needed to keep to himself for the time being. She’d made a point that he needed to work through the shit from his past, and he agreed about them being married when they started a family. He absolutely didn’t want her feeling any kind of pressure from his new discovery, so he wouldn’t tell her for now, but he had a feeling she was going to be really fucking into it when they were ready.

The thought of her begging him to put a baby in her had him reaching his breaking point, coming hard with a ragged cry of her name muffled against her lips. He pushed into her as deep as possible, his come gushing into her inner depths, feeling it coat her insides. Hissing, he rolled his hips, working the hot flood into every crevice, his hand snaking between their bodies to rub her wet swollen clit, feeling she was close with how her cunt was beginning to convulse.

It didn’t take much to have her clenching around him again, gasping his name as she climaxed.

He was worn out, collapsing on her and pressing his face into her neck, her familiar scent making his warm body even warmer, a smile curling on his lips while catching his breath.

“Is this okay?” His slurred words were muffled into her skin.

“Yeah,” she croaked.

Her fingers found their way into his sweat-soaked hair, playing with it and scratching lovingly against his scalp, making him hum happily in the back of his throat.

Javier loved sex. This was a fact, and he loved making his partner feel really fucking good.

Most men would say their favorite part of fucking was coming, but Javier? His was the post-sex glow, cuddling close and coming down with the other person. It was really fucking intimate—bringing pleasure to each other and then basking together in an incredibly vulnerable state.

With Cielito, it was even better because he was so comfortable with her. He could fully relax and let his body melt into hers, enjoying himself with her.

“I don’t know how it’s possible,” she started, her voice a little throaty. “But somehow, sex has gotten better.”

His heart started racing, popping his head up with a furrowed brow to look at her.

“What?” he asked.

She had a confused look.

“I don’t know…?” she answered. “It’s definitely been post ‘I love yous,’ it’s almost more passionate, maybe? We’ve been doing a lot more face-to-face positions, and you’re always on top when you come, and my god, you’re just hitting it so right. I’m not saying you weren’t before!” she quickly added. “Sex before was great, too! Sex, in general, is amazing with you, but there’s something different, and I’m really digging it.”

He frowned. “So, it’s not as good when I fuck you from behind?”

Her eyes went wide.

“That is not what I said at all! I love backshots. Love. With a capital ‘L.’ The night of our second date, while on the phone, I literally asked you to fuck me face down ass up, and you’re really fucking good at it, so it’s staying in rotation.”

He felt himself preen a little at her words, chuckling, “Okay.”

He gave her a loud, smacking kiss on her cheek, making her giggle.

“Basically,” she started, stroking her fingers through his hair. “Five out of five stars will absolutely be fucking again.”

His eyes squinted, meeting hers.

“Did you just rate my fucking performance?” he asked, pinching her hip.

“Hey!” she laughed. “I did some of the work, so it’s our performance.”

He nodded in agreement, replying, “Yeah, I’d rate it five stars then.”

“‘Cause you liked me bouncing on your dick?”

“That and the biting—you almost fucking got me.”

He was really fucking enjoying the biting; it had him coming quick.

“Damn.” She grinned, pulling him down for a kiss. He smiled into it, her fingers working their way into his hair. “You need a haircut,” she murmured against his lips.

It was true. It’d been a while since he’d gotten one, and it was starting to get a little shaggy.

Pulling back, he met her eyes.

“I know,” he sighed. “I’ve been putting it off ‘cause I don’t like my new barber.”

And it was his only option. His old barber and only other option in town happened to be Lorraine’s uncle, who told him he wasn’t welcome when he moved back to Laredo.

“Well, why don’t I cut your hair?” she asked.

“Do you know how…?”

“No, Javier, I’m just going to wing it with these beautiful luscious locks,” she said sarcastically, pulling on some of his hair. “Yes, I know how to cut hair,” she spoke normally. “In college, I lived very frugally and learned how to cut my own to save money—I can also do men’s, had some friends who’d use my styling services for the cheap.”

“How much?”

“How much what?” she asked, confused.

“How much for a haircut?”

“Free… You’re my boyfriend…” she said the words slowly.

That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll take you out to lunch—your choice, and give you a foot rub.” He nodded, settling on the deal.

“That’s really not necessary. I’m happy to do it because I love you.” She stroked his cheek.

“I was already planning on spending the twenty dollars, so I’ll take you out instead, and I know your feet are sore—you got those new fucking shoes that aren’t as good as your old ones.”

“Because I wore out my old pair, and Laredo has very few choices for shoe shopping!”

“We’ll just go to San Antonio next weekend, then.” He shrugged.

“To buy shoes?”

Why was she so surprised?

“Yeah?”

Her eyes went round.

“You’d really drive me all the way to the city so I can get better shoes?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you so much,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss.

“I love you, too,” he said into her lips.

And that was a fact.

The cold hard truth.

Cielito was it for him.

He was going to marry her one day and hoped they’d buy a big house to fill with kids; he was living the fucking dream and had never been happier.

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#pedro pascal #javier peña x you #javier peña/reader #javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #wheresarizona writes #learning to live series

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ms-nesbit · 9 months

Text

goodness (jason todd x reader)

rating: 18+ (fuck off, minors)

summary: jason wakes you up in the morning :)

warnings: jason todd is sad, this is FLUFF, implied smut, reader has night terrors, jason and reader have anxiety

note: i loved writing this. much more than smut. i might switch to being fluff only for a bit. lmk if you agree please :)

ao3

You shifted in your sleep, face twisting into discomfort as you detected danger. It was fictional, of course - all nightmares you had hadn’t come to life since you left home - but in your unconscious state, they felt as real as your body - or, these days, Jason - allowed.

And Jason didn’t sleep; it was what he craved some nights, and (what’s even more) could have used that lost rest, but chose to watch over you as you slumbered away. The first time he slept over, it was the night you found him bludgeoned and sprawled on the fire escape staircase just outside your window. In one word, it was fateful, something that neither of you dismissed. Jason awoke on your living room floor, you kneeling while haphazardly patching the punctures and wounds scattered around his body. A meet cute, he said to himself when he first laid eyes on you, your skin aglow from the kiss of the moonlight.

And was it the first time you’d tended to someone so bruised and bloodied? Absolutely not. Yet it was the first of many times he’d sneak to your window, seeking salvation in his disquiet condition; he was so worried the night would be his last, and he at least wanted to take his last breath by your side, your arms holding him, and wings encompassing him.

“Why are you here?” You asked in a forced whisper, bringing your hand into a tight fist. “I thought you said you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

Jason made it through the window before he collapsed on the ground, groaning in pain. He was quiet for a moment, and you rushed to his side, assuming position with one hand on his shoulder, and another taking his gloved hand. “Christ, Todd, what did you get yourself into?”

He heard the tears in your voice, and looked up at you. “I want to spend my life with you. Or whatever of it I have left.” he attempted to alter his weight distribution, lifting himself from the ground with his good arm, but it left him breathless.

You caught him, and helped him to the couch, where he slumped over on the armrest. Standing right to your feet, you began to walk out of the room to retrieve the first aid kit in the bathroom. “We can talk about this some other time, Todd, I just have to take care-”

But you were stopped with Jason’s grip on your forearm. “No.” he gritted through clenched teeth. “Just-just listen, okay?” you turned to face him. “I was scared that they would find you, that they would hurt you. I can’t lose you.” your teary eyes were met with his, and they bore more heartbreak than his contusions. He meant it. After days of silence and distance from him, he came back to you, and your hand was in his again.

“Please don’t leave again.” you started, voice wavering. “I can’t lose you either.” you placed a hand on his cheek, which he immediately welcomed, by closing his eyes and feeling your warmth. You felt the sting of a stray teardrop hitting your finger, and you brushed its trail away in hopes that no more would follow. “If that means my last day is tomorrow, I don’t care - I want it to be spent with you.” you grinned faintly. “I’m a strong woman anyway.”

In the darkness, you could still see the glimmer of his smile; you were thankful he’d removed his helmet, as was protocol when he entered your apartment. “You are.” he placed his hand over yours, giving it a weak squeeze. “But I’ll protect you even when you can’t protect yourself. I’m here. Always.”

Always.

Jason dotted on you with sweet whispers in your ear and kisses peppered along your temple, forehead, and nose; you hadn’t realized it, but he absolutely spoiled you, because on the nights he was away on patrol, or out of state, you texted him the next morning that you felt colder without him beside you.

Here he is, dotting on you again, this time with a tender holding of your hand, and a gentle whisper. “It’s okay. It’s a dream. I’m here. I love you.” Jason reminded you, the words bearing more weight than gold, his voice dripping like warm nectar into your ear. You hummed in your sleep in response, rolling onto your back. “I won’t let them hurt you.” he stared right at you, seriousness steering his tone and expression.

“I won’t let them hurt you.” he rocked you as you rode through your wave of anxiety from the night terror. “They won’t do it; I won’t let them.”

Despite the nerves, you managed to return the embrace, burying your face into his neck as you sobbed. His grasp on your shirt became desolate, emotion overcoming him as well. Your chest heaved as you cried. “I’ve got you.” he assured, kissing your hair. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

You murmured in your sleep, still stirring. He watched over you as the palette of the sunrise painted your face into a beautiful array, something Jason couldn’t possibly get tired of. In fact, the nights you both stayed up and talked, and the same colors kissed your skin, Jason recalled his feelings for you deepening; it hadn’t even taken a week for him to develop the matured adoration.

“Shirt off, please.” you pleaded kindly, legs on either side of Jason’s hips. “I’ve always fantasized about what you looked like underneath your clothes.”

Jason stopped in his tracks, face still hovering over yours as he simply shook his head. “Why not?” you asked, offended.

Looking away, Jason sat back up on his heels. “Look - I know you know about Red Hood, and all that jazz, but-”

“But what, Jason? Is there something else you’re hiding from me?” your voice rose with tension, far different from the arousal you had just felt a moment earlier.

Jason sighed and removed his shirt hesitantly, and turned his face away from you to shield himself of your reaction. He was ashamed of himself, embarrassed by… scars. Ones that were so vulnerable, so telling, that he might as well have his life story etched on him.

You sat up and traced along his autopsy scar, from one end on his chest to the other, and then down to his torso. Then, to his surprise, he felt warm lips pressed on each scar, one by one, and he whipped his head back to you at the contact. You looked up at him with amiable eyes almost as naked as his chest, and once he realized you accepted him, he cupped your chin in his hands, planting a tender kiss as he laid you back down.

“Good morning, Princess.” Jason smiled down at you as you woke up to the happiest sight in front of you. You pecked his nose, pulling his hand to rest over your heart as you gazed at him.

Had there not been missions, patrol, or the ever-so-definite arguments between you two, you’d be waking up to Jason’s pleasantries every morning; he was there to greet and catch you when you’d least expect it. “Good morning, Jay.” you smiled back, and the words made him beam brighter.

“You know, you really are a dork.” you laughed, poking fun at Jason’s interest in literature.

Jason gawked. “What! There’s nothing wrong with liking Matilda!”

“But there is something up with you wanting a Matilda tattoo.” you added, tauntingly scrunching your nose at him. You nuzzled up closer, head on his chest. “Being a dork isn’t a bad thing, though, Jay.”

Each time you called him by that name, Jason was blanketed in affection and comfort. He was happy to be beside you, to have chosen you, again and again, after time.

And you were happy to be welcomed into his true self, beyond the red hooded boogeyman painted across the world. With each passing day, you two grew closer, and in no time, you two fused together.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd/reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood/reader #red hood #dcu #dceu #batfamily #fanfiction #my post #mine #ao3 #jason todd fluff

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Text

Souvenirs vs. Signatures - Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (18+) (Part 1)

WC: 7.5K / navi / preview

Summary: When you ask for clarification between two subjects of Professor Reid’s lecture, he gives you a bit more than you’d expected as examples of both.

Contents/Warnings: smut (18+, minors dni), pervy spencer, professor/student relations (both over 18), fingering, penetrational sex, authority kink (?), creampie

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Spencer wasn't sure what it was about you that set him off. He'd considered every option, each one less and less professional. It could have been the innocent glint in your eyes as you'd asked him to further explain a bullet point in his lecture. It could have been the soft giggle you'd let out at a suggestive slip-up he'd stuttered, the rest of the class jeering at his misspeak.

It could have been the way your thighs had pressed together the class before last, flattening out against the lecture hall bench. Or the way they'd stuck there, your skin red and raw when you stood, and realized that you'd sweat enough in the stuffy classroom to stick you to the bench.

It could have been the dip of your cardigan over your shoulders that same day, the sweltering heat of the lecture hall due to the broken air conditioning prompting you to let the garment slide off of your arms and pool on the seat below you. It could have been the swell of your breasts in the tank top beneath your cardigan, the lacy argyle pattern molding tight to your tits.

It could have been the overabundance of professor in your vocabulary, all of your questions starting with it, and all of your answers ending with it.

It was probably all of those things and more. More being his own personal fantasies, nothing you'd ever done to him but things he wanted you to more than anything.

He'd never seen your pretty plush lips wrapped around the head of his cock, but he could picture it. He presumed it would look similar to the way you suckled lightly on the thick spout of your water bottle, the plastic slick as your tongue bobbed against it.

He'd never seen your thighs bounce while you rode one of his, but he could picture it. He presumed it would look similar to the way that they shook as you bounced your leg up and down while taking notes, and he hoped that the tip of your tongue would be poking out of your lips just the same in both scenarios.

He’d never watched his cum stain your thighs, but he could picture it. He presumed it would look similar to the sticky, slick sweat that shone on your legs after you uncrossed them, and his stomach knotted as he imagined you sitting on his desk, not behind it.

He’d never witnessed the word ‘daddy’ fall from your lips, but he could hear it. He presumed it would sound similar to the soft, ‘professor’s that you so often graced him with, but he pictured your face flushed for other reasons than the heat.

He’d never had your hands on his chest, but he could feel it. He presumed it would feel similar to the gentle brush of your fingers against his own when he took extra care handing you back your papers directly, just hot and greedy and desperate.

What he did feel, was an ache below his belly. He blinked, glancing up from the pen that he’d been staring holes through and making sure his class was still in order.

He was grateful to be teaching sleep-deprived college students rather than middle schoolers. He didn’t have to worry as much about rowdy tweens as he did exhausted young adults, and at that moment he couldn’t care less if someone had dozed off while he was zoning out.

He was also grateful for the cover of his desk, that shielded his glaringly obvious hard-on from his students. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring off into space, but apparently it was long enough for him to have popped an impressive boner.

A quick glance at the clock told him that he had a mere three minutes left with the class, and subsequently, you. It was a bittersweet departure, really, because he’d give anything to stare at you until the end of time, but what he needed more than that was about ten minutes to himself to take care of things before he’d need to stand and address his next lecture.

Unfortunately, he only had a five minute break between classes. He was tempted to run to the bathroom, no one would mind if he came in a few minutes late, but it all depended on how fast he could get everyone out of the class. Thankfully, he was worked up enough to where, when he started, he knew he’d finish quickly.

It was funny. Before he’d met you, the only way that he’d been able to get himself off was to porn. Call it an addiction, call it a focus issue, but none of the scenarios in his head had ever matched up to anything he saw on the screen.

Until you were in them. Until the nameless, faceless woman bouncing on his cock was you, then he got off just fine. He supposed that would be his fantasy today, your tits bouncing lushly as you rammed his cock into you, your hands gripping his shoulders as you cried out into the empty abyss of his classroom. Once that became his daydream, he was finishing almost embarrassingly fast.

He reined himself in; he probably should have waited for the class to clear out before fantasizing about you again. Fortunately there was only one student left straggling behind the rest.

Unfortunately, it was you.

Your shorts stretched right over your ass as you bent over, wrestling your abundance of notes and textbooks into your bag. Spencer’s eyes shamelessly traced your figure, eyes trained on the skin of your upper thighs that was exposed when you stretched too far.

He quickly tore his eyes away from your ass as you straightened and turned, hauling your backpack onto your shoulders. You had a paper clasped in your hands, and he sent you a kind smile as you hesitantly approached his desk.

“Professor…?” You started, though his attention was clearly on you.

“Did you have a question?” He leaned forward attentively, though it was as much an effort to show you he was listening as it was to hide the stiff bulge in his slacks.

“I was just wondering if you could repeat what you said about signatures? I didn’t quite catch everything and I tried to scribble down what I could, but I can’t read my writing.” You looked sheepishly down at your frantic efforts, black ink scrawled messily over the page.

A deep chuckle came from the man before you and you felt your chest burn, spreading the heat to your cheeks.

“Of course,” He gestured to a chair opposite him at the desk, “Sit down, I won’t bite.”

He wanted to, though. And you wanted him to as well.

He shuffled through his own notes, checking them against your legible ones and noting which passage you hadn’t quite managed to get down in time. It was a quick comparison between signatures and souvenirs, and he waited until your pen was posed over a fresh sheet of paper to start talking.

“Sometimes souvenirs can be the same as signatures. Like, for example, if multiple victims are found with their right foot missing, you’d know it was the same person, meaning it’s all or part of their signature. But that’s also their souvenir, they take it with them as remembrance, as a trophy.”

Spencer found his eyes drawn to the way your tongue peeked out from between your lips once more, the intense concentration displayed over your face as you wrote equal parts endearing and arousing.

“Mhm,” you nodded, hand flying across the page, “But they’re not always the same?”

“Not necessarily,” Spencer almost leaned back in his chair, your close proximity too intoxicating to focus through, but then remembered that he needed to stay hunched forward to hide his predicament, “Sometimes souvenirs are random. They could take a necklace from one victim and an ID from the next, for example.”

“Right…” you wrote impressively fast, your words surprisingly legible for how fast your pen was sliding across the paper, “Thank you, Professor!”

“Anytime,” Spencer smiled, fighting the urge to ogle you as you stood, thighs once again on display, “You always do so well in this class, I’d hate for you to miss out on any material.”

You preened at his praise, and Spencer caught your thighs shifting slightly out of the corner of his eye as you thanked him again, bidding him a kind goodbye. Your water bottle was clutched tightly in your hands, the one thing you’d been unable to shove back into your bag after putting your notes away. He watched you leave, eyes now free to roam down south to where your ass swayed as you walked. It only lasted for a few serene seconds, though, because when you opened the door, someone was already on the other side, advancing forwards before you could stop yourself from doing the same.

The crash that resounded through the room was louder than almost anything that Spencer was used to hearing in his classroom. His students were mellow, and he treated his classroom as a quiet place. So the sound of you shrieking as you hit the floor, your water bottle’s lid popping off and dumping the water down your front was jarring to say the least.

The man you’d run into seemed annoyingly unscathed. He apologized profusely, but he wasn’t in a soaking heap on the floor, you were.

Spencer had half a mind to scold the student for hurting you, and half a mind to thank him for soaking through your sheer white t-shirt.

Spencer was out of his seat in no time, rushing over to where you struggled to stand on the now-slippery floor. He glanced sharply up at the man you’d run into, snapping at the student to get a mop from the closet down the hall.

You watched as he ran frantically down the hallway, the stern tone that Professor Reid had taken with him something that you’d never heard before.

“Come with me,” Professor Reid spoke kindly to you, a stark contrast to his previously biting words, “And we’ll get you cleaned up.”

He hauled you up off of the slick floor, shushing your bashful apologies as he shed his sweater. It left him in a white dress shirt, and he slipped the soft fabric over your head to cover your undergarments that were showing through your soaked shirt.

You glanced down at the sweater you were now wearing, a hot flush igniting your cheeks. Never had you thought that you’d be wearing your professor’s clothes. You pointedly tried to avoid breathing in the scent of the sweater as Professor Reid led you to a bathroom only a few rooms down from his class. You tried pretending that the heat in your cheeks was because you were embarrassed to have slipped in front of two people, but something deep inside you knew that it had more to do with the way that Professor Reid’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, guiding you to walk with him.

The small, grubby-tiled room was bathed in an equally dingy white light from above, a fan whirring as soon as Spencer flicked on the overheads. He shut the door behind you, the heavy slab clicking slightly as it shut. He eyed the lock for a moment longer than he needed to, pressing it into the door for good measure.

After all, he was about to help you get some of the water out of your shirt. And you could see your bra through your shirt. It was common human decency to block anyone from seeing your bra, right? Nothing more.

He tugged lightly at the strap of your backpack, having thrown it over your shoulder after he’d slipped his sweater over your head. You let him take it from you, carefully pulling the sweater off of your head to reveal your still-dripping t-shirt, your bra showing clearly through the fabric.

Spencer let the bag hang in front of his torso, thankful for the cover it offered.

He spotted your notes inside, grimacing as he realized the pages had gotten wet. He pulled them carefully out of the backpack, draping them gently over the sink so that they could have a chance to dry out.

“I’m really sorry, Professor.” You spoke meagerly, grabbing fistfuls of paper towels from the dispenser, “If I caused water damage at all, I’ll be happy to-”

“Y/N,” Professor Reid cut your apologies off, holding out a hand, “Really, it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident, it’d be unreasonable for me to get angry with you over that.”

You nodded bashfully, squeezing some of the excess water out of your shirt before pressing the paper towels over the damp fabric.

Spencer tried to avoid staring, he really did. But his eyes lingered at the way that your hands flattened against your breasts, committing the sight to memory so that he could pretend that it was his hand the next time he thought about it.

Thankfully you seemed too caught up in drying yourself off to notice that he’d been staring. You finally finished soaking up any excess water you could, throwing the mess of soaked paper towels in the garbage. Spencer spotted a wet spot on your side as you turned back to him, setting your backpack down and reaching for fresh paper towels.

“You missed a spot,” He stepped towards you across the tile, one hand coming up to grab the hip opposite the wet patch as the other gently dabbed at it.

His touch was electrifying. His hand was delicate, long, slender fingers curling around your hip as he worked. He hunched over slightly to see what he was doing, but that only put his face closer to yours as you stared dumbfoundedly at his face.

You wanted to play it cool, you really did. You were sure he didn’t mean anything by it, but you’d been crushing on your professor for an obscene amount of time, and having him this close to you was something you weren’t able to play off.

You were certain you looked absolutely pathetic. Your bewildered, enchanted expression, mouth hung slightly open as your sparkling eyes widened comically probably showcased every thought you had been concealing about your professor and more.

His grip was steady on your hip, and his brows furrowed slightly as he pressed the paper towels methodically against your shirt, soaking up as much water as he could.

Finally he looked away from your shirt, satisfied with the amount of water he’d been able to sop up. He had fully intended to take his hand off of your hip, walk to the trash can, and throw away the paper towel, but as soon as he wasn’t looking at your side he realized you were looking at him, and he turned his head to meet your eyes, landing his face much closer to yours than he expected.

Your noses were practically touching, your breath fanning faintly across his lips as your own parted delicately. He swore the sensation was like nothing he’d ever felt before, warmth flooding his cheeks and spreading through every inch of his body at the intimate proximity you occupied.

Neither of you said anything for a few electrifying moments, his eyes guarded and tense as yours flashed between desperate and hesitant. It seemed like ages before anyone spoke, and it was Spencer’s deep voice that filled the cramped bathroom, his tongue smoothing over his lips before he spoke.

“You need to tell me right now if you want me to stop. Say the word, and I’ll walk away from this, no questions asked and no judgement passed. But I need to know now.”

You said nothing. You continued to stare starstruck into his eyes, heart pounding loud enough that you swore you heard it echo off of the tile. When you didn’t respond, Spencer tightened his grip on your hip, tossing the paper towels haphazardly onto the floor behind him and using his now-free hand to gently cup your cheek.

“Y/N-” He began, voice urgent, but you cut him off.

“I want this. I need this, I-” You blurted, your voice much stronger than Spencer’s tentative one had been, “Please.”

Spencer kissed you faster than he swore he’d ever moved in his entire life. The gesture was strong, forceful, and his hand shifted from your cheek to the back of your neck, keeping you in place. It meant that you had nowhere to go, you weren’t able to lean back as his lips pressed against yours, the intensity of the kiss making you light-headed. He kept you pressed as tightly as possible against him, his hand still resting on your hip, fingers gently curling into the fabric of your soaked t-shirt. His tongue prodded wetly between your lips, and the way that his fingers dug into your hips had your lips parting in a gasp that he swallowed.

He was absolutely ravenous, tongue rolling eagerly against yours, leaving your knees weak. You were glad that he kept you so tightly pressed against him, because if you hadn’t been grasping limply at his shirt you might have keeled over right then and there.

You whimpered pathetically against his lips, your hands now gripping desperately at the stiff fabric of his dress shirt. There was little give within the material, but it meant that the shirt was stretched tighter across his form, exposing his collarbones as you sneakily popped a button open at his neckline.

You barely had time to process the kiss you’d just been silenced by before his lips weren’t on yours anymore, instead pressing just as hungrily against your jaw. Spencer’s hair brushed against your face as he sunk lower and lower down your neck, kisses just as hot and wet smeared across your skin as they had been on your lips.

It seemed that the steady stream of whimpers and whines that trailed from your throat would never end, only amplified as Spencer began sucking at the sensitive skin of your throat.

You tossed your head back as he reached a particularly mind-numbing spot, his hand still cradling the back of your neck. He seemed to only inch closer to you with every reaction you gave him, his tongue sliding eagerly over the bruise he’d just sucked into your skin.

“Y/N,” He mumbled darkly, his eyelashes fluttering against the underside of your jaw as he paused in his advances, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

His words sent a shudder through your body, one that he felt as his lips suckled lightly on your skin. He felt the suction he had against your neck break as a smirk curled over his features, and he kept his voice seductively smooth as he continued.

“I’ve thought about this so much. I’ve wanted to kiss you stupid,” He glanced up at your dazed, blissful look, “And it worked. I’ve wanted to suck,” He interrupted himself to do just that, tongue pressed flush to the stinging patch of skin on your neck as you cried out, “hickies into your skin. I’ve wanted to touch you, Y/N,” He slipped his fingers into the waistband of your pants, “Do you want me to touch you?”

“You nodded vigorously, “Yes! Yes, I need you to touch me. Please Professor,” That word, that word fell casually from between your spit-coated lips, “I need you.”

Spencer groaned lustfully against your throat, tongue trailing up the expanse of your skin and lips joining in to press a heated kiss to the skin. You swore that you’d never felt anything better than that, though his fingers slowly creeping down your pants was threatening to take over the feeling of his saliva smeared messily over your neck.

“Say it again,” He murmured against your skin, pressing a sloppy kiss to the apple of your cheek and leaving his lips resting there lazily.

“Wh- what?”

“Say it again,” He repeated, “Call me Professor.”

“Professor,” The word left your lips just as sinfully as he’d commanded it to, and he grunted a soft, ‘fuck,’ swallowing the last syllable when his lips claimed their previous position between your own.

Only when he leaned into it once more did he realize what position you were in, leaning uncomfortably backwards in the restroom with only his hands to hold you up. While he was equal parts delighted and aroused at how he was the only thing keeping you steady, he knew the position must have been torture on your back.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He finally removed his hand from the back of your neck, bringing it down to your other hip, “Jump.”

You slung your arms around his neck, eagerly hopping off of the ground to wrap your legs similarly around his waist. He caught you perfectly, shuffling a few feet to press your back against the tiled wall of the bathroom.

You hissed in surprise as the cold tiles penetrated your wet shirt, sending the first shiver of the day down your spine that hadn’t been caused by your professor. His eyes had been locked onto yours, ravenous as they trailed down your neck and caught the remains of his glistening saliva, but his brows furrowed adorably in concern at your reaction, realizing that you must have been freezing.

He gently set you down, your legs hitting the bathroom floor as he backed away. For a moment you were afraid that you’d ruined it, that he had changed his mind, but he merely snagged his sweater from off of the hook on the door, gesturing vaguely at your white t-shirt.

“Take that off, sweetheart.” He snapped the hem lightly against your shorts, “I wanna see you in my clothes again.”

He added the last part as if it wouldn’t have been enough just to wear it for yourself. But the admission that he wanted you in his clothes, that he wanted to see his claim over you set a slight stutter to your movements as you fumbled with your shirt.

The hemline brushed wetly against your neck and you cringed at the feeling, but Spencer pressed one last chaste kiss to your skin to soothe the sensation, crooning a soft, ‘good girl’ as he did so. His eyes trailed immediately downwards, locking onto your breasts as a soft, shuddering sigh left his lips.

“Fucking gorgeous,” He breathed, shifting the sweater to be slung over his shoulder so that he could reach for your tits with both hands, “Just like I imagined them.”

You were slightly emboldened by his choice of words, “You imagined them?”

It seemed as though your momentary confidence boost didn’t come at his loss, though, because he looked up at you with hooded eyes, lips inches away from the peaks of your boobs.

“Every time I got off.”

He didn’t give you time to respond, but you weren’t sure what you’d have said. The image of your perfectly put-together professor jerking off to the thought of you would send the same gush of arousal between your thighs every time you heard about it.

He used your momentary stillness to yank the sweater off of his shoulder, slipping it easily over your head and pressing a soft kiss to the bulge of one of your breasts before letting the fabric fall to your waist.

“Can we get rid of these?” He glanced questioningly at you as he tugged on the hem of your shorts. Some of the crashing waves of bliss that sporadically washed over your insides became smoother, lapping gently beneath your belly at his continued concern for your comfort.

“Mhm,” You nodded eagerly, reaching for the button and quickly shimmying out of the fabric. If you’d had more time to think, or more brainpower not devoted to the way that Spencer’s tongue shot out to smooth across his lips, you might have tried putting on a show for him, but you let your shorts pool on the floor at your feet without a second thought.

He didn’t seem to mind. His sweater fell just past your waist, neatly covering the hem of your pretty pink panties, but not the pad. He reached slowly for your hips, the touch even more electrifying now that he wasn’t touching you through layers of fabric.

“These too,” He brushed a finger over your panties, your stomach contracting at the sensation. You almost reached for them yourself, but thought better of it, angling your hips towards him even more.

“I- I want you to do it,” You stated, your eyes shining hopefully as you gazed lovestruck up at him. He couldn’t help but let a soft smile slip over his lips, dimming the lust-crazed atmosphere in the room into a sweet, loving haze.

He hooked a finger under the hem, slowly sliding them down your thighs. He watched intently as the other side of the fabric was now on display, the startlingly large slick spot catching his attention.

“I don’t think you spilled that much water,” He teased, his thumb pressing against the stained fabric, “What’s this, then?”

“It’s- I was..”

“Say it, sweetheart.” He met your eyes again, gently gripping the backs of your thighs to lift them, sliding your panties off of each leg, “I wanna hear you say it.”

“I was thinking about you,” You mumbled, cheeks burning in embarrassment, “And- and then you kissed me, and I couldn’t help it, everything just piled up and-”

“And you’re soaked,” Spencer bit his lip, breathing slightly heavier than usual as he finally held your panties completely in one hand, “Y/N, do you remember what I was saying about signatures versus souvenirs?”

He practically felt your arousal wane as he brought up murder, but he pressed on as you nodded tentatively.

“These,” He reached for your neck, thumbs brushing over the stinging patches of skin he’d left behind, “Are my signature. And these,” He held up your slick-soaked panties, “Are my souvenir.”

The metaphor, as twisted as it was, only doubled your previous arousal. Your lips parted, a soft gasp making its way through them as your fingers tangled in the soft, pliant fabric of Spencer’s sweater. You stuttered pathetically, trying to figure out something to say, but your eyes tracked Spencer’s hand as he tucked your panties into his shirt pocket.

“I want my fingers in you,” He began boldly, as if he was suggesting a meal for lunch, (though you supposed you were just that), rather than fingering his student in a public bathroom, “I know you’re ready for more, but I’ve been waiting too long to rush this.”

“I want your fingers in me too,” You felt your stomach flipping at the mere thought, “Please, Professor.”

The same soft smirk quirked up one side of his mouth as he moved forward, the outline of your panties in his pocket barely visible, “You remembered what to call me.”

He teased a finger between your thighs, intending to run it along your slit but eyes widening slightly as he was met with an abundance of slick. He withdrew it, examining his glistening digit with equal parts fascination and lust.

it only took him seconds to decide what to do with his finger, hovering it in front of your mouth. His lips parted, he was clearly about to tell you what to do, but you needed no further instruction, parting your lips and suctioning them softly closed

Spencer swore nothing had ever felt as amazing as your tongue curling around his finger. He was sure that your soaking cunt wrapped around his still achingly-hard dick would top the sensation, but it hadn’t happened yet, and he watched your cheeks hollow out as you sucked your arousal off of his finger.

He faintly recalled his earlier fantasies, and was surprised when he wasn’t disappointed that it was his finger in your mouth instead of his cock. Sure, he wouldn’t complain if it were the latter, but nothing about you could disappoint him, especially not when your tongue slid so eagerly over the pad of his finger.

The look you hit him with nearly floored him. Something about your great big, round, shiny doe eyes as you sucked his finger clean only made the bulge in his boxers worse, his breathing stuttering as he almost came in his pants.

“On second thought,” He mused, using his free hand to tug at his belt, “I need to be inside you, now.”

You looked slightly crestfallen at the news that his hands wouldn’t be inside you, but he pressed a sweet, sensitive kiss to your lips, “I promise I’ll touch you next time.”

Next time.

The two words sparked your arousal once more, the idea that he wanted to do this again, that this wouldn’t be the last time he touched you. It more than made up for the semi-anticlimactic change of pace, and the situation was only mended further when you noticed the strained fabric of his boxers.

You wanted to do something, wanted to reach for his cock and ease it out of his boxers, or sink to your knees and see how fast he’d cum. But you felt yourself freeze, your back leaning against the tile as he fumbled with his boxers.

Once his cock was finally free you felt your stomach knot. You could tell why he wouldn’t have been able to last through fingering you, the head was already smeared with sticky precum. You finally unfroze, lifting the hem of his sweater and rushing towards him, clinging to his chest as he held himself steady. He chuckled lightly at your eagerness, but you were unphased, desperately trying to slip his cock into you.

You managed to hoist yourself off of the ground, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he stumbled backwards slightly. He backed you against the wall, finally steady as he positioned himself perfectly in front of your soaked cunt.

“You ready, sweetheart?” He glanced up at you for one last clarification, but you didn’t need a single second to deliberate. You pushed your hips forwards, feeling the tip of his cock run lightly against your slit as you begged for him to continue.

“Please Professor,” You cried, hips rocking to find his own, “Please, I need you in me now! So bad, ‘need it so, so bad!”

“Shh,” Spencer brought one hand away from your waist, “Calm down, pretty girl. Just relax.” He finally let you sink down onto his cock, an involuntary groan spilling from his throat at the sensation of your desperate clenching around him.

“‘Can’t relax,” You babbled, your eyes screwed tightly closed as you tried bouncing on his cock, “‘Feels so good, feels so so good!”

“I know, sweetheart.” He crooned, gently lifting you and helping you ease back onto his cock from where you were desperately shifting your hips around him, “You feel amazing too, you’re doing such a good job for me.”

“‘M not doing anything,” You whined, succumbing to his dominance and letting him guide your hips, “I- I couldn’t even speak earlier!”

“You’re doing great,” He shushed you, a soft kiss pressed to your lips, “You’re taking me so well. I never thought it would feel this good,” His lips shifted once again down your jaw and to your neck, “You’re better than I ever dreamed.”

His sweet words, though sinfully laced, had new butterflies swarming in your stomach, separate from the lust-driven ones that flapped relentlessly at your insides. You slumped pitifully against him, nothing in your head besides the relentlessly divine feeling of his cock grating your insides, gently prodding deeper and deeper into your cunt until you were certain he’d split you open.

He seemed to be fixated on your neck again, sucking tantalizingly sensitive bruises into any patch of skin that he hadn’t before. His tongue flicked this way and that over your skin, leaving behind hot, sticky trails of spit, each new patch of skin that he latched onto just as sensitive as the last.

He savored the feeling of his lips on your skin, his cock still rocking up into your cunt. You were soaking wet, no longer from the water you’d spilled, but from your slick, lewdly dripping down your thighs. He swore he’d never seen anyone get as soaked as you were now, but he’d admit, the bulk of his prior experiences were porn, and he knew those were inaccurate at best.

This, this felt otherworldly. His dick, buried deep within your deliciously contracting cunt as you squeezed him tightly, ready to milk him dry. His tongue, lapping up the innocence that he’d seen oozing off of you since the first day he’d met you, his teeth sunk sporadically into your skin as it bled out of you. He was certain you’d live with these hickeys for days, and some distant part of his brain wished that you’d touch them when you were getting yourself off to the thought of him.

When, not if. He’d been cautious before, not sure if you really wanted this, if any of this was really happening, or if it was a dream. But he knew his brain couldn’t have possibly come up with something this exquisite, the desperate whimpers flowing from your throat better than any eloquent poetry that he’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.

He shifted his focus back up to the source of the sounds, slipping his tongue into your mouth to muffle your moans. Frankly, he didn’t care if someone heard you two, the door was locked and you’d get away with it. But at the same time, something flared hotly in his chest at the thought of someone else hearing the whines that were meant for him. It was his lips that were making you moan so prettily, his cock that drew your wanton screams out. No one else should be allowed to hear you. So he swallowed the sounds, committing them to memory so that he could relive the moment later. Each lust-filled scream, each blissful moan that poured into his mouth sent a shiver down his spine and straight to his cock, which he felt twitching in your cunt.

“Y/N,” He murmured against your lips, your saliva dripping lewdly down his chin as you chased his lips, “Y/N, I can’t hold on for much longer.”

“Please cum in me,” You begged, your words uttered sinfully into his mouth, “I need to feel you cum in me.”

“Fuck,” Spencer shuddered, your words working perfectly to rocket him towards his climax, “Fuck, Y/N, I’m- Keep talking!”

“I want you to cum in me,” You babbled, “Wanna feel you fill me up, Professor.”

The final word did it. He knew that he liked you calling him Professor. Hell, he’d fantasized about it numerous times. But never did he think it would have him cumming this hard, his usually hyperactive brain going completely blank. He didn’t see, didn’t hear, didn’t think, only felt. He felt his cum gush into you, quickly filling your already-soaked cunt and oozing out around his cock. He felt your teeth sink into his lower lip, felt the vibrations of your desperate scream rip through his body just as his orgasm did.

He wasn’t sure if you were still talking or not. His brain wasn’t functioning enough to pick up on sound yet, it was like being directly beside an explosion: everything went quiet, and heat consumed him.

When he was able to come back to consciousness, he heard your own desperate whimpers, “Professor, Professor, I’m cumming! Professor,” You sobbed, beautiful tears slipping down your cheeks as you threw your head against the tiled wall behind you, “Professor, it’s too much!”

Spencer’s cock was hypersensitive now, and the feeling of your walls milking him dry, squeezed impossibly tight around his cock as your own orgasm washed over you was the strongest thing he’d ever felt. He felt you begin to tremble in his arms, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you experienced the same mind-bending pleasure that he’d just come down from. This time it was you swearing, your delicately innocent lips producing a string of expletives so filthy Spencer swore he got hard again just listening to it. Never had he thought something so vulgar would come from your lips, and he weakly arched his neck up to press his own to yours, muffling your screams once more.

You felt white-hot pleasure consume you, leaving no part of your body untouched. The burning was brightest at your core, as Spencer’s cock rocked lightly back and forth through your dripping folds, but even the tips of your fingers tingled as you knotted them in Spencer’s hair.

You used your leverage to tug him even closer to you, his presence overwhelming as he caged you against the tile in a kiss. Your tongue laid limply against your teeth, his own rolling smoothly against it as you came down from your orgasm. Never had you been this wet, both Spencer’s cum and yours mixing to gush down your thighs, previous stains of your slick completely engulfed by the sinful mixture of substances now cascading down your skin.

Your constantly-present hum of whimpers and whines still filled the space, only muffled and meager as Spencer kissed you. The fire burning in your belly flared up once more, Spencer’s cock within your walls now a stinging sensation rather than a blissful one. You broke away from the kiss, his lips sliding smoothly down your chin as you slipped out from the embrace. He looked bewilderedly back up at you, his hands digging into your thighs with an iron grip.

“Too much,” You squirmed, desperately shoving at his chest, “No more! No more, it’s too much.”

Spencer let you go slowly, making sure you were steady on your feet before taking his hands off of your hips. He carefully pulled out of you, one hand quickly coming up to catch the obscene trickle of cum that pooled in his palm. You whined lightly at the loss, but your eyes widened as he brought his hand to his mouth, tongue swiping over the mess on his skin.

He licked up your cum in a sort of trance, the subtle remnants of your arousal that he’d been able to taste on your tongue earlier practically nothing compared to the pure substance. His chest heaved as he finished cleaning his hand off, arm falling limply to his sides as he surveyed you.

“Are you okay? That was..” He hesitated, much less suave now that you’d made him cum harder than he ever had in his life, “That was phenomenal.”

“I’m more than okay,” You breathed, your eyes trailing down to your thighs, watching your cum slide down your skin.

“You’re perfect,” Spencer murmured, his eyes glued to the same sight, “You’re fucking perfect.”

“Professor,” You started, your cheeks heated and his sweater over your form rumpled, “Not to ruin the moment, but.. don’t you have a class?”

He glanced down alarmedly at his watch, seeing that his class had started fifteen minutes ago, without him. He shook his head, “Probably not anymore. It doesn’t matter, they don’t matter.”

You shrunk in on yourself slightly at his praise, and his discerning gaze caught the movement.

“Hey, are you alright? Talk to me,” He shuffled forwards, reaching for his boxers, “I want to know how you’re feeling.”

“I’m feeling,” You hesitated, anxiety pooling in your chest, “Nervous. Professor, is this going to- Are you going to look at me differently now?”

‘Hm?” He cocked his head to the side slightly, tucking himself back into his boxers and starting on his pants next, “What do you mean?”

“I mean is this going to affect my grade?”

Spencer chuckled incredulously, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well I just-! I want my grades to be my grades, not...”

“Not your body’s?”

“Right.” You nodded, eyes cast to the dingy tiled floor.

“Hey,” Spencer strode forward, buttoning his pants and lifting your chin so that your eyes gazed into his own, “Your grade is your grade, and it’s phenomenal because of the work you do, not because I have a particular liking towards you. I promise this won’t affect it, Y/N, I’m much more interested in you as a person than I am as my student. Alright?”

“Alright,” You let a soft, cautious smile overtake your features, and Spencer couldn’t help but press a soft, sweet kiss to the expression.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned up, for real.” Spencer teased, pointedly reaching for your shorts and not your panties in his pocket.

‘Um, Professor, my-”

“My souvenir.” He cut you off, “Remember?”

“You’re really keeping them?”

“If you let me. I wanted to keep them for a day when I couldn’t have you with me,” He grinned slyly, “Because I meant what I said about ‘next time’.”

You nodded eagerly, watching the faint outline of the fabric in his pocket shift as he moved. He tapped the back of your thigh so that you lifted it, sliding your shorts on.

He held them at your thighs, reaching for the roll of toilet paper that laid on the counter beside you. He made quick work of cleaning you up considering just how much of a mess you’d made, and helped you back into your shorts, patting your ass teasingly as he secured the garment around your waist.

“Okay, tell me what you need.” His hands framed your hips, “If you’re hungry or thirsty we can stop by my office, I’ve got stuff there. And if you’re tired, there’s a couch you can nap on. If you’re sore, I can get you a heating pad from the health center, or- or if you-”

“Professor,” You spoke, eyes shining with adoration towards the now-flustered man before you, “A nap sounds fantastic.”

“Perfect,” He grinned, gathering up your things that were strewn around the bathroom, “I’ll go first. I’ll clear the hallway if anyone’s there, then wait two minutes, and you can leave too. Okay? Meet me in my office.” He handed you your freshly-packed backpack.

You nodded eagerly, the soft smile that had crept over your lips now a full-blown grin. He offered you a similar one, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his cheeks squished around the expression.

“Bye sweetheart, see you soon.”

He unlocked the bathroom door after he spoke, slipping out of the gap and keeping you concealed inside. There was only one student in the area, and he looked up questioningly Spencer as he strode up to him.

“They’re clearing this hallway,” Spencer set a hand on the student’s shoulder, leading him away from the bathroom, “You’ll need to wait outside.”

“Clearing? For what?”

“The janitor needs to vacuum,” He walked the man to the door, ushering him outside, “Thanks for your cooperation!”

Spencer had an extra spring in his step as he rushed back to his office, hearing the bathroom door creak open after he was already turning the corner into the room. He shut the office door behind him, feigning shock when he heard your knock on it only seconds later.

“Miss Y/L/N,” He spoke loud enough for any bystanders to hear him address you formally, “Come in.”

As soon as you were over the threshold of his office he pushed the door shut behind you, gathering you up in his arms and pressing another intimate kiss to your lips. He felt you grin into the gesture, reluctant to let you go when his lungs began stinging, begging for air.

“Sorry,’ He parted from you with a sheepish grin, “I just can’t keep my hands off of you.”

“Well you’re gonna have to,” You let your backpack fall from your shoulders, tilting your head towards the door, “Your class hasn’t left yet. They’re expecting you.”

Spencer let out a disappointed sigh at your words, nodding resignedly and leading you over to the comfy-looking couch in the corner of his office.

“I won’t be long, it’s only a forty-minute lecture.” He helped you get situated on the cushions, reaching for a blanket that was draped over the back of the couch and tucking you in, the fabric soft below your chin.

“That sounds like a perfect nap,” You grinned, reaching for his face when his expression mirrored yours and pressing an equally sappy kiss to his lips.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” You called out as he made for the door, “And don’t let anyone see what’s in your pocket.”

He glanced briefly down at the wad of fabric stuffed in his chest pocket, his grin morphing into a smirk, “And don’t let anyone find you sleeping in my office, Y/N.”

With that he was gone, slipping through the door just like he had before, leaving you cozy and warm on his couch, your eyes easily slipping shut to pass the time away until you could be in Spencer’s arms again.

tags: @halloween-is-my-nationality

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