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l0ngschl0ngking · 1 year

Text

Work for it

Javier Peña x f!reader

summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily

warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself

word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)

A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.

You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.

It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.

What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.

He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.

He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.

“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”

One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.

“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.

Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.

Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.

One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.

“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.

“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”

His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.

“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”

“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“

Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.

The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.

It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.

“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-

He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”

You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.

“Listen here-“ A pause followed.

“Javi.” He offered.

“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”

He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.

“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.

You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.

He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.

Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:

“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.

You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.

He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.

Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.

Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.

Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.

Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.

His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.

And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.

So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.

The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.

You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.

The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.

You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.

His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.

He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.

“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.

He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.

“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”

You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.

He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.

So that you knew what you were missing.

The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.

But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.

So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.

You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.

You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.

To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.

Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.

But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.

And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.

So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.

Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.

There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.

Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.

You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.

You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.

You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.

The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.

Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.

So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.

“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.

“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.

And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.

“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”

His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.

He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.

And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?

But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.

So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.

But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.

He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.

“You should ask her out, Peña.”

Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.

“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.

“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”

And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.

Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.

“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.

His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-

“Javi, you okay?”

Man up, Peña.

He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:

“Go out with me.”

He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.

“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.

“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.

“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”

He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.

“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”

“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.

He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.

“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.

“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.

He owes Steve.

For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.

He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.

When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.

The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.

Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.

You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.

It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.

As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.

Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.

“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.

“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.

You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.

“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”

You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.

You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.

You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.

It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.

The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there

Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.

“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.

“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.

“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.

“You remember that?”

“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”

The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.

“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.

He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.

“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.

The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.

You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.

It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.

“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.

Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.

Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.

When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.

He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.

All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.

And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.

He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.

He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.

His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.

And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?

The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.

This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.

And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.

He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.

Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.

“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.

“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.

He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.

“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”

“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”

“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.

“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.

Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.

You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.

A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.

He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.

“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.

“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.

“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.

The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.

And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.

“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.

He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.

“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.

“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.

He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.

“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.

“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.

“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”

They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.

You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.

The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.

His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.

Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.

You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.

You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.

He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.

You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.

“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.

Game on, Peña.

You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.

Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.

“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.

He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.

“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.

The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.

“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.

The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.

The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.

“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.

He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.

He hopes you understand.

When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.

He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.

He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.

He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.

He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.

He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.

You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.

He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.

“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.

“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.

It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.

“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.

You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.

“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.

“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”

And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.

One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.

He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.

You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.

The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.

His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.

You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.

He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.

He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.

“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.

The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.

When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.

You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.

When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:

“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.

And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.

The third official date comes around three weeks later.

Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.

It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.

Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.

It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.

He feels desired as much as he desires you.

He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.

“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.

It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.

So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.

So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.

What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-

A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.

But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.

The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.

His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.

“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.

You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.

“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.

“Javi-“ You protest weakly.

“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.

He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.

You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.

You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.

His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.

Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.

The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.

Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.

He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.

You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.

The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.

You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.

It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.

You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.

You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.

His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.

TAGS: @harriedandharassed

#javier pena #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #javier pena reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #soft javi #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal ff #narcos smut #javier pena one shot

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hihomeghere · 1 month

Text

My eyes only | Arthur Morgan / Reader

Word count : 500+ (just a little guy) Summary : Arthur thinks you look like a work of art Warnings/tags : Fluff, allusions to smut, nakedness, Arthur being in love, set in Shady Bell.

“You look like one of them paintings.” Arthur said lying next to you. Supporting himself on his arm as he sat up, his blanket hanging low on his hips. The sight offers you the slightest peek at the low v of his pelvis. His arm unconsciously flexed, the muscles of his bicep pulled tight.

“What do you mean?” You chuckled, rolling over to face him. Heat poured off your skin, your hair sticking to the back of your neck as you come down from your high. The only thing covering your nakedness was a flimsy sheet, pulled lazily over your body by Arthur.

“You know, those portraits.” He said, a wicked grin on his face, “The ones that French feller made in Saint Denis.”

“Arthur!” You laughed, hitting him on the chest, a satisfying slap echoing through the room.

“What?” He laughed, deep and heartily. His shoulder shook as he grinned.

“You’re awful.” You said, shaking your head, trying to hide your smile.

“You’re laughin’.”

“Am not!” You chuckled looking up at the rotted ceiling. He rolled over, wrapping his hand around your bare waist. Digging his fingers into the soft skin of your side, you squirmed laughing under him. “Stop! Stop!” You cried, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. The setting sun peeking through the window, illuminating Arthur’s backside like a halo. Although he was anything but an angel at the moment. “I’m gonna pee!” You laughed, your hands planted on his chest as you tried to shove the ox of a man off of you.

“Alright, alright.” He relented, collapsing on top of you. You let out a loud ‘omph’ as he pushed all the air out of your lungs. You rolled your eyes, your fingers drawing mindless patterns along his freckled back.

He picked up his head, smirking up at you. “I’m serious, ya know?” He said softly, his finger trailing down your cheek. The hands of a killer, hands that have beaten and broken the strongest of men. Now lay featherlight touches along your face. “You’re beautiful.” He said, a soft blush covering his cheeks, the scars on his nose and chin a stark white against his skin.

If anyone looked like a work of art it would be Arthur. His body seemed to be carved out of marble, strong and hard. His muscles rippled under his flesh. And those eyes, bright blue pools you often found yourself drowning in.

“I think I should be saying that to you.” You whisper, smiling up at him. He shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips.

“Nah, ain’t much to look at here ‘cept for you.” He mumbled, laying a kiss on your shoulder. You’d have to disagree, but your words die on your tongue as his lips lay a trail over your collarbone and up your neck.

“Maybe I should ask Mr. Châtenay to paint my likeness, hm?” You tease. His hand, no longer laying dormant next to your body, squeezes your hip.

“Not a chance in hell darlin’.” He said grinning wickedly at you. His other hand that had been moving along your cheek gripped the back of your neck. “You’re for my eyes only.”

#Arthur Morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #rdr #fluff #hihomeghere #drabble #john Marston #dutch van der linde #hosea matthews

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httpdwaekki · 3 months

Text

migraine | b.c.

summary: you were known to have pretty intense migraines but chan is there to help you feel better.

wc: 1.9k

warnings: no warnings, just pure fluff, tad bit of hurt/ comfort, sweet channie as always, and in true ashton fashion far too many petnames lmao. very lightly proofread (p.s. i am in my wolfchan lover arc, need him immediately.)

a/n: omg ashton got lost in the sauce again? * gasp* shocker! yeah this took me way too long to write but whatever. i actually don't hate this which is crazy but this is self indulgent because i get some pretty intense, nasty migraines that can last a couple days and it sucks. but if you suffer from the same thing i hope this can bring you some comfort and also i recommend a gel cap that you put in the freezer. an actual game changer, trust. anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

*lowercase intended*

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you had some pretty nasty migraines, no secret to you or chan. they last anywhere from a few hours to a few days and while there were things to help lessen the pain and pressure, sometimes you just had to ride it out.

this was unfortunately one of those times. now usually you would call chan as soon as you felt the first telltale sign of a migraine . this time however, you didn’t, you knew he was busy with work and didn’t want to interfere with that. but you were selfishly starting to regret that decision as everything you were doing did nothing to help.

it seemed like everything did nothing but increase the pressure in your head, spreading to your face. in a last ditch effort to get some sleep you put on some migraine music, pressed a cold compress to your eyes and pulled wolfchan to your chest.

the soft plushie smelled faintly of chan’s cologne, the only thing actually helping you relax. but it also made you miss the aussie man, wishing he was by your side, rubbing your temples, softly lulling you to sleep.

you didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt a warm tear drip down to your neck. you knew you had to calm down or you risk making everything worse but you couldn’t. you were overwhelmed by the pressure in your head and frustrated with nothing helping to release it.

you felt selfish and guilty but you knew you needed chan, you felt like you were going insane without him. hesitantly you moved the compress from your eyes, grabbing your phone.

despite the brightness being on the lowest possible setting, you felt a sharp pain behind your eye as the screen turned on. you unlocked your phone, clicking chan’s contact, you quickly typed out a message.

to channie <3 :

hi, i’m so sorry to ask but i really don’t know what else to do, i have a migraine and nothing's helping. i know you're working but is there anyway when you finish up at the studio you could come over? even for a little bit, if not i totally get it, just thought i’d ask, love you bug.

you hit send, locking your phone, placing it on the soft sheets, placing the compress back over your eyes. a few minutes passed before you felt your phone buzz beside you. you move the cold compress once more, bracing yourself for the light from your phone.

from channie <3:

can you call me jagi? i don’t want you to keep looking at your phone screen, love you too sweet girl.

you click his contact once more, hitting the little phone icon next to his name causing the calming music to stop, a loud ringing replacing it. this caused you to wince and quickly lower the volume before putting it on speaker so you could place the cooling pack back over your eyes.

it didn’t take long before he picked up. “hi my baby, what’s going on?” he asked softly.

“my head hurts,” you started, words slightly slurred. “it’s really bad channie.” you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “i’ve tried everything and nothing’s working, i don’t know what to do.” you softly cried, tears making their way down your cheeks once more.

“okay angel okay, take a deep breath, i need you to relax for me okay? i know it hurts but it’s gonna hurt worse if you’re upset.” you hear rustling in the background.

“i’m just finishing up a few things here and then i’m gonna head over, okay sweetheart?” you respond with a soft whimper, followed by a quiet, “okay.” you press the pack further into your eyes, chasing the coolness that is quickly leaving the gel filled pack.

“do you want me to stay on the phone with you till i get there?” he asks softly, packing his bag.

“yes, please.” you mumbled. “okay baby, just keep breathing and focus on me, okay? i’m gonna pick up some food on the way too, okay?” you hummed in response, rolling over, pushing the soft plushie to your cheek, breathing in the familiar scent.

“everything okay?” you hear changbin ask in the background. “yeah, y/n has a migraine, so i’m going to help her.” chan responds.

“oh no, i hope she feels better, let us know if you guys need anything.” you hear han chime in, your heart swelling at the boys concern.

“will do, thank you, i’ll see you guys later.” you hear him open the studio door making his way into the hallway.

“you still with me, jagi?” he asks softly. “yeah, i’m here.” face squished into the soft fabric. “alright sweetheart, i’m gonna mute for a bit just until i get to my car, okay?” he asks, the elevator dings in the background, signaling its arrival.

“okay.” you say sleepily. “i love you baby, i’ll be right back.” you hear him press a button in the elevator. “love you too bub.” your words slurring slightly.

after chan muted, you felt yourself slowly succumb to the exhaustion, phone positioned next to you on the sheets, wolfchan tucked safely against your cheek, you, curled up in a soft blanket .

that is exactly how chan found you about 25 minutes later as he walked in your room, the space dimly lit by the oil diffuser sitting on your bedside table. he left the take-out bags sitting on your kitchen counter, fresh compress and cold water in hand. he gently places the water on your desk, making his way over to you.

he grabs your phone, ending the call before turning off the relaxing music. he sits next to your sleeping form, gently taking the warm pack off your face. he places a kiss on your forehead before placing the fresh compress on your eyes.

you tense for a moment, before relaxing as the cold begins to relieve the tension once more. you stir awake from the sudden change in temperature. “channie?” you asked, sleep laced in your voice.

he places a hand on your hips, his thumb rubbing soothing circles to the area. “hi, my baby,” he whispers. “how are you feeling hm?” he asks, continuing the soothing motion. you move the cool pack, grabbing his free hand, in this lap, threading your fingers together before placing a kiss on the back of his.

“better now that you’re here.” you murmured, giving him a small smile. he smiled back before leaning down and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“i got you some ramen, i’m gonna go grab it for you okay?” you nodded, him standing, still keeping your hand in his. he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead before placing the compress back over your eyes, grabbing the warm one to put back in the freezer .

he gives your hand a light squeeze before walking away. you relax into the soft mattress below you while chan goes to grab the hot soup and some medicine just in case.

he walks in with the tray, setting it on your desk next to the cold water collecting condensation on the wood below it. he makes his way over to you, sitting next to you once again, gently lifting the pack off your eyes. “there she is,” he placed a hand on your cheek, setting the compress next to you.

“hi baby.” he smiled, softly stroking your cheek. you give him a small smile back before turning your head slightly to place a kiss to his palm. “can you sit up for me please?” you nod softly before slowly moving to lean against the wall behind you.

“careful jagi.” he whispered, quickly placing a hand behind your head. “thank you, bug.” you mumble, adjusting the pillows behind you, placing wolfchan in your lap . chan stands up once more, placing the water on the tray before bringing it over to you.

“thank you, chan, you really didn’t have to do all this.” you say, guilt creeping up on you once again. he shakes his head. “nope, none of that. i’m your boyfriend, this is my job.” he places the tray on your lap, taking his place next to you once again.

“plus, i love taking care of you. if you need me, i’m there. any time, any place, simple as that.” your heart swells, you feel a lump form in the back of your throat. “you can’t say stuff like that when i’m like this, i’ll cry.” you play with the plushie’s ears before feeling a finger lift your chin.

“i love you, and i’ll always be here for you, no matter where either of us are, okay?” he said, looking into your eyes, with nothing but love and sincerity. you nod, “i love you too.” he smilled, carefully leaning over to place a kiss on your forehead.

“now, you need to eat, i got your favorite.” he says, picking up the hot soup, opening the lid, before separating the chopsticks. he dips the wooden sticks in the soup, giving it a stir before grabbing some of the noodles.

he gently blows on the steaming noodles before offering it to you, container under it to catch any dripping soup. you giggle, “you know i can feed myself right?” he frowns, pushing the noodles and container closer to you. “eat.”

you smile before opening your mouth, accepting the food he so generously offered you. a smile made it’s way onto his face, feeding you a few more bites. he placed the container back down, chopsticks resting in the soup, before grabbing the medicine and water.

“take these.” he placed them in your hand, opening the water as you dropped the pills in your mouth. he hands you the water, watching as you greedly gulp down the cool beverage. “ how are you feeling, angel?” he asks gently.

“it still hurts but i think eating and drinking definitely helped.” you smiled, handing him the bottle. “ good, i’m glad. eat a few more bites then we’ll lay down, okay?” he says, picking up the soup once more.

you end up finishing the ramen before he grabs the tray and the now warm compress. “do you want a cold one?” he asks holding up the pack.

“yes please.” you nod slightly. “okay, get comfy, i’ll be right back jagi.” you smile laying back down as he leaves the room.

he comes back, shortly after, with a fresh compress and another bottle of water. he places the water next to your diffuser, placing the compress over your eyes. he circles the bed, climbing under the covers.

he lays down, pulling you into him, placing your head on his chest. you place your arm around his wait, hand slipping under his shirt, rubbing your thumb across his soft skin.

he brings his hand up, rubbing soft circles on your temples, placing kiss on the top of your head. “sleep jagi, we can shower when you wake up okay?’ you nod slightly against him.

“thank you, channie. i love you, more than you know.” you mumble, tightening your arms around him. “i love you too baby, i’ll always take care of you, okay?” placing one last kiss to your hair.

that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other’s arms. the pressure in your head, slowly releasing, finally able to relax.

reblogs/feedback are appreciated! i hope you guys enjoyed!

do no repost

#bang chan #bang chan imagine #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan fic #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids drabble #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids fluff #ash's library

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pillow-anime-talk · 10 months

Text

his pregnant girl.

synopsis: A little slice of life scenes where his significant other is pregnant.

# tags: headcanons; current marriage relationships; slice of life; soft romance; mostly fluff; maybe a bit of comedy; pregnancy; mention of faint and vomit; sfw

includes: female reader ft. qin shi huang, adam, jack the ripper & nikola tesla {ror}

author’s note: i just woke up, thought about it and wrote it. enjoy :)

— QIN SHI

↘ When Ying Zheng saw you for the first time, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen; you had a lovely and gentle smile, your eyes sparkled in the sun like the most pretty gemstones, your skin looked healthy and tidy, and you were wearing a flowery dress that was perfect for the current weather in the city. That day, the Emperor went for a walk to the capital to see how his people were doing. However, the moment he saw you – when you were buying fresh fruit from one of the sellers – his thoughts were only focused on you and your blushes. On the same day you were brought to the palace as the first concubine, although you quickly felt something more for the King of China and he also felt the same in a very short time.

↘ Qin Shi Huang never had any more concubines; you completely occupied his mind and heart by being by his side until the very end. In the meantime, however, you began to spend private time with each other: talking, eating together and walking around the gardens in the huge palace. Those were really beautiful and memorable years for you.

↘ A few long months after your first meeting, after you moved into the palace, and after becoming the country’s first empress, a huge, loving smile lit up your face. The trusted doctor that day gave you very important information and as it turned out – you were pregnant. You almost cried at the news, thanking the doctor for his help. At first, you suspected food poisoning because of the morning sickness, but the information of having a small child under your heart, the fruit of your and the Emperor’s love, was the best thing that could have happened to you.

↘ As soon as your beloved returned to the mansion, you asked him for a private conversation. He instantly sent all the gathered guards away and took your hand. For a moment he was afraid that you were sick, that you didn’t love him, that you wanted to leave, but the truth turned out to be completely different.

↘ “...I’m pregnant.” You whispered a simple sentence, touching your slightly swollen tummy, and the man frowned. “The baby is doing well at the moment, but I was recommended daily visits because this will be our first kid.” You added quietly. After a short while, you felt a warm touch of fingers on your cheeks, and then a light kiss in the middle of your lips.

↘ “I am very happy, my Queen. I hope he or she will be born healthy.” He whispered and you nodded shyly. “Now you have to take care of yourself more than before. I’ll ask the maids to fill the tubs with warm water. If you want, I can join you. I want to see you.” He added directly to your ear and you blushed instantly on the cheeks. Even if Zheng was the Emperor, he was your husband in the first place... a bit of a playful and provocative husband.

— ADAM

↘ You realized something was wrong when your tummy was bigger than it should have been – of course you could have blamed it on eating too much fruit or drinking too much water, but that wasn’t it. You felt different; a little insecure, a little weird. For the next few days you were looking for answers to your ailments, stomach pains, swollen fingers and ankles, slightly aching spine.

↘ “... Are you okay, Y/N?” A calm voice reached your ears and you looked up at the fair-haired, handsome man who was lying on his back in the grass and looking up at the night sky. You hesitantly touched your stomach, shaking your head. You already knew the answer to your question yesterday, but you were still getting ready to confess the truth to your partner. “Tell me what is going on.” He said, this time looking straight at your face. His eyes were calm, slightly tired, but still full of warmth.

↘ “I have... a child in me, Adam.” You spoke softly, almost inaudibly, but the man understood your words perfectly. He lifted his head a bit and then the whole body. A second later he walked over to you sitting on a flat rock. He touched your face hesitantly, looking for a bit of a joke in you, but when he couldn’t find one, he just smiled. “You are mad at me?”

↘ “Where did this idea come from?” He asked surprised as he sat down next to your person. His arm wrapped around your waist and his hand touched your swollen belly. “It’s mine, so I love it. I love you too.” He said confidently and you sighed in relief. “When will I be able to see her? Or him?”

↘ “Oh, I don’t know.” You admitted slightly amused, then touched your tummy as well. “Sometimes I feel it moving. I think it’s healthy.” You said, nodding your head and your lover hugged your body tighter to his. You looked definitely different than a few weeks ago, but still the most beautiful in Adam’s eyes. Your eyes were feisty, your hair got a beautiful golden flash, your complexion definitely improved.

↘ The state of blessedness was a time full of worries, but also assurances that you two will be fine.

— JACK

↘ You and Jack have been trying for a baby for many months. Your relationship was strong and connected by marriage, so the child was the next stage of your love and confirmation of your feelings. However, it was difficult for you to predict whether the expected pregnancy was already developing in your womb or not yet; so far you have not felt any pain or nausea, on the contrary, you felt very well. Nevertheless, one day, you found a trusted doctor who had successfully provided prenatal care to many local pregnant women. After a short conversation with a middle-aged man, you were examined.

↘ “... I’ve been working for many years and if my experience doesn’t deceive me... I can say at this moment that you are expecting a baby.” He said in a calm tone. “All of my patients had the same symptoms as you, including amenorrhea and increased appetite. I can’t tell how many weeks the baby is currently, but I assume it’s the second or third month of pregnancy.” He added, and then on a slightly yellowed piece of paper he wrote you some recommendations for taking care of your health in the coming weeks. You almost passed out after leaving the cabinet, but the excitement was overwhelming in your mind. You quickly returned to your apartment in a small tenement house, where your partner was waiting for you.

↘ He was about to drop a cup of beautifully scented tea as soon as he looked into your eyes and noticed the bright orange aura surrounding you. Your aura was strong and visible like never before.

↘ “M-My darling, are you okay?” He asked anxiously as your hand embraced his much larger, slightly colder, hand. “Everything’s all right?” He asked again and you nodded your head, hugging his body as quickly as possible.

↘ “Honey, I think I’m pregnant. I went to the doctor and he said it’s the second or third month.” You whispered, a bit ashamed. Your partner looked at your belly and then at your pretty face. He instantly hugged you tighter, smiling. He was so happy and fulfilled.

↘ “My lady. Even that, we can make sure of the doctor’s words and talk about it in the bedroom, what do you think about it?” He said in a low voice, making your nose blush. You only nodded your head in response and a moment later the man lifted your body up.

— NIKOLA

↘ You’ve known Nikola since... always. You were best friends who grew up together and over time started to feel something more about each other. Nikola was a man with a big heart, both for science and for people who were especially important to him – his beloved brother, the rest of his immediate family and, most of all, you.

↘ You were a harmonious couple who supported each other always and regardless of the situation. You were proud of your husband’s zeal and achievements, of his inventions, of his failures, of all his attempts, of his small and big mistakes, of his great desires, of his smile and much more. You supported him as much as you could, always offering him a hot meal, a sweet or a cup of fresh coffee. Sometimes you would come to his studio to spend some time with him and talk. Sometimes you helped him with his ideas and not infrequently your reasoning helped him get things going.

↘ Not one invention has been named after you or the first letter of your name.

↘ As an engineer’s wife, you knew many things; you could construct a simple mechanism, describe it, you could calculate difficult mathematical formulas and you read books with interest. So when your body started changing you knew you might be pregnant; all the girls close to you had similar or even the same symptoms as you. You’ve been thinking for a long time about telling the truth to a man who is currently dealing with his greatest work in life. But if you hadn’t done it then, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to do it later.

↘ “... Honey, do you have a moment?” Upon entering his studio, you asked uncertainly, shaking a brown basket filled with food. Your lover nodded quickly and tightened the last screw, then came over to you, kissing your forehead. “Your favourite.” You added and he just chuckled and thanked you.

↘ You sat in carefree silence for a while. Your fingers brushed the hem of your dress and your eyes wandered from one corner of the room to the other. Finally, the man asked if you were feeling unwell. You sighed, playing with the sleeve of the clothes.

↘ “I’m pregnant, Nikola.” You giggled in your soul, looking at his face.

↘ A fork with a piece of meat fell on the table next to important papers and your husband looked at you in indescribable shock. It took him a moment to recalculate what you just said to him, and then he felt that the world around is getting darker... and darker.

↘ “Nikola?!” You screamed, catching his body falling to the side. Although the reaction at first scared you, the moment your partner woke up, you experienced the greatest love attack of your life. The man gave you soft kisses all over your face, shouting every now and then that he would be a father and that he would name his next invention after your son or daughter.

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daddyricsdoll · 6 months

Text

To Love ✭ Lando Norris

Summary: Lando Norris is easy to love, and how lucky I am that he's mine. These are the five moments that made us feel so much more than just love!

Warnings: Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral (female receiving), Choking, Creampie. And fluff! I know fluff doesn't count as a warning but I just thought you should know.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: This is based off of the song To Love by Suki Waterhouse. I did kind of get carried away but I don't regret it. I'm in love with the song, and I'm in love with Lando. And I started writing this nearly 2 weeks ago so yay! I've finally finished! I really hope you enjoy reading this! Lando birthday post? 🤭

I remember his face from that room, the one where we made eye contact for moments, moments that I had only hoped would never end. But then someone walked in and we both never saw each other again. But I remember the feeling of him. When his soft hands covered my eyes and his warm breath tickled my ear. I forced the tips of my lips not to curl as his presence finally enveloped me. The feeling wasn’t familiar but it felt like home, it made my dead heart flutter and breathing ease.

I hadn’t even known his name, or heard his voice, but I let him grab me by the hand and drag me away. I knew it was him, the one I thought I would never lay eyes on again but I remember. I remember him. I remember his lips finally against mine and then trailing against my jawline. Hands sliding down my sides. He lifted the flimsy fabric of my dress and glided his fingers through my folds–encouraging my breathing to get hitched and face too warm to make out words. He didn’t slip inside of me just yet, watching the way I would squirm and flicker my eyelids when he was millimetres away.

I whined when I lost his touch, feeling so empty, more than when I lay alone in bed, in the room not a single other soul had entered. But my eyes healed me when they opened and he was still there standing before me. His fingers hurriedly undoing his pants, lips planting open mouthed kisses around my neck–heightening my pulse and my fervent desire for more than just his touch. The one he had given to so many others before me, but it would change, I was certain I would be the last, and I was sure that he would agree.

One of my legs was pulled up against his firm body, perfectly fitting along his waist. He ran his tip through and along my folds before very leisurely making his way in, inch by inch filling me up. Sucking in deep breaths and tangling my hand into his hair, he finally fit his whole length in.

Hushed curses left his mouth and my stomach curled at his voice, and it was like he knew because he looked up to me and parted his full lips. Mouth emitting an distinguishable noise and he ultimately asked for my name, and without hesitation, I gave it to him while asking for his in return and the interesting timing. “It’s so I know which name I can moan out.” He looked at me directly in the eyes, a little glimmer in his, coating the splashes of blues and greens. I couldn’t help but chuckle before he cut me short with a quicker thrust. He pulled all the way out, glistening with my arousal and then teasingly easing his way back in.

I whined out his name, the one I now know—Lando. He groaned out my name as my walls started clenching around him. He squeezed his eyelids shut- concealing the mesmerising colour of his pupils making me acknowledge the delicacy of his features. His flushed lips pigmented with hues of pinks and reds- slightly parted sucking in sharp breaths.

I was impelled to him and our lips collided again, my hands gliding to his curls and he lowered his head to begin devouring my neck. Not reducing his performance or pace–internally making me do backflips and beg to hold him like this eternally. The tears glimmering in my eyes finally fled as the knot in my stomach ultimately burst. I cried out his name in broken sobs and rough hands, pulling him closer to me, harmonious praise filling his ears. His manly groans and childish whines fused together as he released inside of me with a last string of thrusts. Each one emitting a new sound from me. Simultaneously we both look up at each other, beads of sweat on his tan forehead, reddened cheeks, lips ajar trying to catch the stuffy air around us.

I remember, that was when we had first met, in the crowded room where we had caught the other's eyes, but it was like we knew each other. We had confidence that we were right– and we were. From when he placed his hands over my eyes like it was the 100th time, and I chuckled at him like it was. He showed me intense and mild– first and last, but most importantly love. I always thought it was hard, hard to find, hard to hold onto. But with him it was easy. He made himself so easy to love. When his hand holds mine or rests on my back, when he loves me tenderly and never lets go.

✭

“Come on, read to me” The brunette lays his head on my lap and his feet rest off of the side of the couch. I chuckle at his gesture- wide grinned and oh so gorgeous. We both chuckle and he examines my face as I open my mouth to start reading. “To be fond of dancing was a certain step toward falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr Bingely’s heart were entertained.”

My eyes glance down at Lando, a content smile plastered on his face. “Are you fond of dancing?” He asks me, full of interest and curiosity. “Yeah, well I’ve never done it before, but I’m sure I’ll love it.” Just as quickly as he lay down, he gets back up and reaches a calloused hand out to me. “Let’s dance” Enchanting grin on his lips as his other hand goes into his pocket and fishes out his phone.

I place my bookmark between the thin pages and grab his solitary hand as “Can’t take my eyes off you” by Frankie Valli plays from the speakers of his phone. He effortlessly throws his phone on the couch and places his free hand on my waist. One of my hands rested on his shoulder and the other tangled with his.

We slowly sway to the music trying to keep up with the rhythm of the song. Pupils staring into the other, no need for words to express our feelings as we already know. We read the other from the twitch in their smile to the furrow in their brow and emotion in their gleaming eyes. I let him lead us, the pace and our movements. As the song progresses, our speed changes, he sings it with much emotion, head swinging everywhere but gaze upon me. And when the infamous chorus comes up he starts swinging our arms up and down, feet jumping all around the room.

Both of our faces beaming with happiness and loud simultaneous laughs fleeing our mouths. We betray dancing and he wraps me in a tight embrace, still keeping our bodies swaying to the music, but having nothing except our clothes keeping us from each other. His big hands splay out on my back and my smaller ones laze on his nape, tickling the little hairs on the back of his head. We listen to the others breathing trying to reach the same tempo while our lips inch closer and closer, ultimately meeting.

The kiss wasn’t rushed, it was captivating. Forcing me to stay, and let him steal my breath, only ever releasing from him when his hands have to force me to. He holds either side of my face and plants firm pecks along my features, trailing them from my eyebrows to my nose, cheeks and jawline. My face heats up and I’m sure my cheeks go the same shade as my lips. Words don’t seem possible for me so I let out little mumbles, the words–I have no clue of, but I think he knows from the small curve in his lips.

We held each other that night involved in a physical love not one that was severe but serene.

✭

“Did you- did you ever expect me? Like did you think there was always a place in your life that was…missing something or waiting for it and that thing was…”

“Yes. There was always a part in my world for you. A space waiting for that girl from my dreams and now, I… I have her.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper and his cheeks speckled with pink, I could feel myself rising in temperature. Still after months I couldn’t control myself around him, becoming flustered and flushed every time he looked at me or made a noise.

✭

He intertwined one of his hands with mine, other arm holding our cart bag full of golf clubs. He looked so beautiful under the sunlight, the beams of light shining onto his tanned skin and shifting the colour of his irises. On this day I’d let him take me out to play golf. I had lied to him, claiming I’d never even held a club before. But all I wanted was to feel the warmth of his body against mine and breathing in my ear.

He became so euphoric, having the opportunity to show me one of his favourite things. I had altered my stance and swung the club miserably. I nearly cried myself, but then his hands gripped my waist and pulled my body into his. As his warmth surrounded me I nearly melted like ice cream vulnerable to the sun. His hands wrapped over mine and I could feel his breathing against my neck and scarcely caressing my ear.

He whispered words in my ear, but my mind was stuck in a haze that I could only hear the outline of them. He tried swinging the club with me, expecting for it to turn out just like the movies we had watched together but we failed. Although we did succeed in laughing together like a couple of idiots, knowing we could rely on the other for laughter was another one of our strongest holds.

Our fits of chuckles eventually died down and we tried a few more holes. Tilted lips still intact and little giggles along the way, from when he wouldn’t get the best putt or chip and would react overdramatically. Hands in the air, gripping my shoulders or stomping like a kid.

We hadn’t even made it to the 10th hole when he suggested we try something else out, he kept telling me it wasn’t because this isn’t enjoyable but he wanted us to try something new. So he tangled his hands with mine again and led me to his car.

His hand rested on my thigh as he drove us around, having no location set in mind but just the feeling of being together without having the worry or stress of life. I let him drive us to a secluded area, it has a perfect view of Monaco and it’s where we usually go for our runs. I don’t question him to why we’re here, but my breath hitches as his fingers travel further up my skirt. I didn’t have a need for him right now, but suddenly it has risen and I push my hips forward, making him teasingly chuckle at me, but finally slide his fingers under the fabric of my panties.

“Fuck, you’re drenched. And how long has it been? A few seconds.” I look down innocently, but still spread my legs wider.

“Come here” He demands of me and helps me cross the middle console so I sit directly on his lap. Holding his shoulders for stability. It was a tight space, but we both knew we could make do with it. My core brushes against his bulge and he lets out a deep groan, lifting me up the slightest bit so he can undo his belt and pull his pants down at just the right length.

My hands do the work of lifting my dress up and bunching it up by my chest. He moves my panties to the side and slowly lowers me onto his dick. His eyes squeeze shut and mouth opens wide as a long whine leaves my lips and I feel his dick stretching me with his thickness. His large hands continue lowering me, as deep as he can get. Once he strokes that one spot that has my release escalating, we stay there and just savour the feeling. Once I feel the need for more movement I leisurely lift myself up and then fall back down onto him. My clit brushes against his skin and I writhe my hips to gain more friction and pleasure. He helps me by shifting his hips along with mine and we moan simultaneously.

“You want more?” He breathes out, and when I nod he lifts his hips up and somehow thrusts deeper into me. My head goes into the space between his neck and shoulder and I bite his exposed skin. I expect the sudden action to shock him, and it did, but a pleasurable moan leaves his mouth and I start to cover his skin in love bites. He continues his motions at a gratifying pace and I move my hips along with him, so we both meet at the middle making the escalation of our releases rocket.

The moment was so risky but oh so intimate that we didn’t care if someone caught us. And that was what drove our desire for this more, the risk, the danger. A long whine left my mouth as I came and the tears that pooled in my eyes finally fled. He continues lifting my hips up and down– riding him out of my high and into his. I place more bites and kisses on his neck and his thrusts become sloppier, losing pattern and then he lets out a low groan as he ultimately cums in me.

He doesn’t stop but goes faster, the noise of our motions even louder and I can feel the knot in my stomach tightening at every ram. I feel more sensitive to his touch and I slam down onto him with more force as he brings me to my second climax of the afternoon. He whispers such dirty words to me in such soft voices, one hand leaves my hip and goes to the back of my neck, pulling my head back to watch the tears that left my eyes before guiding my head back to his, and our lips collide. I let out whimpers into his mouth and he groans into mine.

“Are you gonna, cum?” He asks between thrusts. I can’t manage to find words but noises come out oh so very easily and once again I cum on him. Only seconds later I feel him twitching inside of me and just like the first time he releases into me. I feel so high as his cum fills me up and instead of resting like I thought we would, he opens the door and while he’s still buried deep in me, I wrap my legs around his waist and he walks us out to the front of the car.

My back lands on the bonnet of the car and he pulls out of me. “Fuck look at that, you’re dripping with my cum.” He groans out as he bends down to look at the mess he made. His beautiful lips curl into a grin before his bright eyes become darker and he commands me to turn around, so I listen to his demands and my chest presses against the hot surface of his car.

His big hands open my feeble legs wider and he pushes into me with much vigour. My whole body moves with his, one of his hands moves to my hip and the other grips my hair in a makeshift ponytail. He hadn’t ever shown this much power, force, dominance, and I can say, I enjoy this side of him. The one where he tells me what to do in that one voice, where he wants to wear me out, fill me up.

I feel so sensitive to his touch now, more than I had been before and an endless string of moans emit from my mouth. The hand he placed on my hip now slid up and down my side, splaying out on my abdomen before moving up to hold one of my breasts. His pelvis slamming against the skin of my ass, and sharp breaths leaving his mouth. I whine and wail little begs of please. Not asking for anything specific, not really having a clue what to ask for.

His hand leaves my hair and wraps around my throat. Light enough for me to breathe, but firm enough for me to feel it. His thrusts become messier but still hold the same amount of power and every time he strokes that one spot in me, I know I’m close. “Gonna fill you up again” He murmurs between each ram and at his words and actions I finally release with a loud whine and moan. Not even seconds later I feel him cum in me again.

After a few short thrusts he pulls out and I feel the loss of him before two of his thick fingers fill the empty space. I soon realise why, as he pushes his cum back into me. I moan at his touch and then whine at the loss of it again. That was until he turned my body around and before I gained my stance he pushed me back and shoved his fingers in my mouth.

“Taste me” He whispers and I swirl my tongue around his two fingers, till he slowly drags them out. I watch as he slips them into his mouth, his eyes beam into mine– sultry and tantalising. My legs couldn’t bear to move so when he bent down and spread them apart again, I didn’t do a single thing to stop him, or help him. I did know that I would barely be able to handle more, but oh lust is a strong feeling. And so is his tongue against my swollen clit. He helps my body lay down on the bonnet of the car just like a bed so he can perfectly watch the way I clench my walls and keep his cum deep in me.

My legs urge to close when he makes contact with my clit again, flicking it up and down while his fingers start pumping in me viciously. “Gonna push my cum deeper in you huh. You like that?” He asks my helpless figure, arms splayed out next to me, head pointed to the sky and eyes shut closed. My involuntary moans and blaring whines are the only sounds beside his harsh thrusts. His name leaves my mouth a countless amount of times people could mistake it for a mantra. “Oh Lando. Please Lando. Fuck…Lando. ”

The most I had ever said his name, oh his sweet name. So recognisable from others and when he first told me it, it never left my mind. I think of his name with hearts around it, but now, I’ve added fire.

My back arches at every curl of his fingers and stroke of his tongue. My release only mere seconds away, and he knows as speaks against my clit, telling me to cum in his mouth and cover his tongue. My legs shake and my overstimulated walls flutter around his overactive fingers.

I whine out loud as I release and he sucks on my clit, licking it and trying to gather all of my cum. His fingers don’t stop driving in and out of me that I have to beg him to stop. And when he finally does I watch his head lift up and a boyish grin mixed with a smirk dances on his face. He opens his mouth and shows me the last of my cum sitting on his tongue before he closes his mouth to swallow it.

His hands come beside me as he stands up just to lean back down on my body and give me a soft kiss. Once he pulls away he slips in two of his fingers in my mouth which makes me whine but I comply as I suck on his fingers not failing to get a groan from him. Very slowly he slides his fingers out then starts placing small kisses all over my face. Wrapping his arms around my body and digging his head into the crook of my neck to land more kisses on my skin. It makes me giggle and I wrap my arms around him too, pulling him closer to me than before. We lay on the bonnet of his car until the sun sunk in the sky, full of laughter and love.

✭

“That’s my top five favourite times with you” He gives me a delicate smile and grabs my hands in his. “Lando, that’s four.”

“Oh…you're right” I can see the gears turning in his head as he mentally counts all of the moments he had talked about.

“Sorry but you’ve got to think of another one, unless I’m that boring.”

“Ok then, the last time is now.” He says with much certainty and confidence.

“Why now…?” I question.

“Because of this” I watch as one of his hands reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a small box. My mouth slowly gapes open and my eyes pool with tears as he opens the box precisely and then my eyes land on the ring.

I look back at Landos beautiful tanned face, eyes vibrant and adoring. They gleam with unshed tears too, and he nods at me. Letting me know this is real and he wants me, forever and always, through richer and poorer, thick and thin, till death do us part. Yes becomes the only word that leaves my mouth and I don’t stop saying it even after he put the ring on my finger and I leapt into his arms. Sitting in his lap, surrounded by his devotion and love.

I remember his face from that room, the one where we made eye contact for moments, moments that I had only hoped would never end. But then someone walked in and we both still managed to see each other again. And oh how lucky we are.

#f1 #f1 smut #lando norris #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine

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vanilladove · 28 days

Note

Hello, I am writing to you anonymously out of shame but you can call me Emy I was reading your blog and I was totally delighted with how you wrote and I wanted to make a request: could you write for Chuuya, Jouno, Dazai and Poe (you can add more if you like) with a reader like Mikan from danganronpa If you don't know her, her personality is a little (very) shy and she is surprised by the slightest show of affection (she is even surprised if you say good morning), often despising herself, asking others to forgive her existence and when people Annoyed with her, she tends to ask if she can take off her clothes or imitate a pig so that they can forgive her for all this because she suffered harassment in the past. I'm sorry if the request is very big 😭 but I would be grateful if you accept it (nothing happens if you don't either) I'm sorry if there are spelling errors but English is not my first language and I am using Google Translator. ♡

~ bsd men with a v shy + fragile reader

bow divider yeribbon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: various bsd men x gn!reader (dazai, atsushi, chuuya, akutagawa, jouno, poe)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: comforting fluff!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: none! also i'm not v familiar with daganronpa, so apologies for any inaccuracies! i'm just going off what wiki fandom says (。-∀-)

~ dazai osamu

doesn't mind your personality, although at first he teases you mercilessly until he realizes it isn't just an act.

as someone that has also gone through trauma, he would gradually soften up to your personality and reassure you of your worth.

dazai is a very impatient man though, so expect his method of choice to be exposure therapy...like extreme exposure therapy...like bro might slap some sense into you like atsushi & akutagawa ( ó × ò)

when you start over-apologizing, he'll put a finger to your lips and stroke your face and hair to calm you down (ღˇᴗˇ)｡o

expect lots of subtle displays of affection like hand kisses, kissing away tears, and general affectionate flirting.

~ atsushi nakajima

your demeanor confuses atsushi at first, to the point where he cries after the first time he meets you :,(

you're going to get a sentimental, heartfelt speech about how you deserve to live, and how you aren't a burden to anyone.

poor atsu cries over you--you guys probably have daily cry + cuddle sessions.

will do random things to cheer you up and give you many words of affirmation.

buys you a tiger plushie sprayed with his cologne to cuddle with when he isn't with you for comfort ♡

i'd like to think that through helping you, atsushi also helps address his own self-esteem issues ^w^

~ akutagawa ryunosuke

hates you at first and sees you as a cowardly weakling.

it isn't until one day he randomly compliments or helps you and catches your shy/flustered expression that he begins to feel some sympathy.

will gradually visit you more until you stop flinching whenever he approaches you. he can tell you're intimidated by him because of his personality and notorious reputation.

it's definitely hard for akutagawa to be soft with you, since he's a rough person, but he tries his best to be gentle with you.

shows his care through actions more than words (sharing food with you, doing constant check-ins, guiding your back when walking with you, etc.)

promises threatens to kill those who have harmed and harassed you in the past.

becomes overprotective over you, getting mad when anyone--even jokingly--teases you.

~ chuuya nakahara

tough love~!!!

expect a lot of "huh, what the hell are you talking about?" anytime you apologize for something small or suggest some self-sabotage

since you aren't used to affection and often try to reject gifts, thinking you aren't worth giving them to, chuuya will 'lovebomb' you with gifts until you get used to them as the norm and accept them willingly.

although he may seem short-tempered and easily irritated, he'll always make time to sit down with you and listen to your rants/past stories and engage in deep conversations.

holds your hands and reminds you of how strong and talented you are--will keep drilling it into your head until it sticks.

carries tissues in his suit for when you cry.

~ edgar allen poe

this man may be your twin...honestly he's a bit of a mess himself, so he doesn't know how to help you.

i think poe would be relieved to find someone similar to him--also very shy and awkward/bad at socializing.

if you started apologizing when there was a pause in conversation, he would probably apologize back, and you two would go back and forth until karl bites him (꒪▿꒪)

since you both mainly only find confidence in your talents/skills, he would get to know your strengths as much as possible and encourage you to do your best!

will also share his book plots with you, taking you with him into the books and getting your feedback, never missing the chance to show you something beautiful he secretly wrote just for you

overall, poe would make you feel less alone and isolated, helping you gain confidence overtime!

~ jouno saigiku

since you're already so fragile and frantic, jouno wouldn't find any pleasure in torturing or messing with you

ends up helping you under the pretense of "calming down your raging heartbeat and nerves that are too loud"; in reality, he notices how you're always on edge and just wants you to experience some peace and quiet.

jouno's sensitive to others' emotions, so i think if you were having a panic attack or extreme anxiety, he'd immediately hug + hold you until you calmed down again (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

like the rest, he'd offer you words of affirmation and hold your hand in public/around other people.

will stick around you to ward off anyone who tries to bully you or exploit your personality; blushes uncontrollably if you thank him for his simple acts ♡

#vanilladove #vanilladovebsd #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd fluff #bsd x reader #dazai x reader #atsushi x reader #chuuya x reader #akutagawa x reader #jouno saigiku x reader #jouno x reader #poe x reader #poe bsd #edgar allan poe

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joonipertree · 5 months

Note

idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3

Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki

Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.

So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.

"You're shit at lying."

"Fuck off."

Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.

Fuck.

His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.

"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"

You said nothing.

"Give me an answer, doll."

"I'm an adult."

"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."

Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.

He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.

Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.

Oh.

A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.

Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.

Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.

When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.

You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.

And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.

"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."

You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.

"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.

"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."

Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.

"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."

You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.

When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.

"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."

"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."

You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.

"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.

It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."

You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.

Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.

The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.

With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'

#katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #mha x reader #bnha fic #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n

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madxyy · 1 month

Text

Selfish

| pairing : peter x reader

| summary: your boyfriend comes home injured--as usual--late at night and you can't help but want him safe from his life as spider-man

| warnings: fluff, touching wrists (sigh, again), y/n used once, baby used, peter being cute and angsty as usual, reader also being cute, light angst

author's note: i am trying to write angst so bare with me lol

2 am.

It’s always when you hear that faint knock on your window that makes all your worries wash away in a split second. But not today, no, today was different. You were waiting all night to hear that thud on the firescape or the cries of the window seal being opened. All night you were absorbed in your own anxieties and worries. Your hopes were dreading as time went by. You were getting scared for the local crime fighting hero and you did everything in your power to take your mind off it.

You really did.

Drawing, watching tv, listening to music, cleaning the room—which was a bad idea as it just bought you a reminder of the boy who has your heart. You would stumble upon Peter's belongings that were scattered around your shared apartment like confetti: his engineering notes, his sweaters, his latest sketch of a brilliant idea he had to improve his spider-man suit. It only made your heart ache even more, longing for his presence and increasing your worries for your vigilante boyfriend. So you would take another route and try binge-watching a new season of a recent tv show you are watching, which would likely just be collecting dust in the column of ‘continue watching.’

Your mind keeps on going back to him. ‘He’s okay. He’s okay.’ You thought to yourself. ‘He’s coming back to me. He’ll be alright. He’s probably on his way right now. It’s just going to be a scratch, hopefully. He's going to be okay, right? Oh god. Oh god.’

As much as you love and adore that your boyfriend is helping the city and its people by saving anyone from another lab experiment gone wrong or from a dangling car that’s about to fall off a bridge, you can't help but wonder if he would ever take care of himself. It’s hard seeing him everytime he comes through your window with a new bruise on his keen jawline, a wound on his ribs, a scar on his hip. You couldn’t deal with it anymore. You wish he stopped just for his own safety. You know it’s selfish but is it so wrong to want him safe? Just the thought of turning on the news and seeing J. Jameson reporting: “Breaking News: Our local friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man reported dead by …”

You want him back with you already, his arms wrapped around you, drowning you into his warm embrace, so distinctly Peter, while he whispers soft and reassuring words that always mend your heart. You long to hear his random facts about science, see his lopsided smile that always welcomes you back into reality whenever you wake up next to him each morning. You yearn for his contagious laugh that makes your heart throb in delight over the euphonious sound. You want to smile at the tics he does when he gets nervous or the way he avoids eye contact and scratches the back of his neck when he is stuck in an awkward situation. You want him to be back so you can smooch the newly embedded scars that are planted all over his body which you love kissing away everyday when he wakes up. You want to see his dimples that adorn his face when he smiles wide enough because he finally got his web shooters to work, followed by a triumph fist bump to the air. You want to see his eyes, oh his eyes: brown, soft, autumnal, brimming with love and warmth, despite the grief and cruelty he has been absorbed in. His scent, a mix of cedarwood and asphalt (due to his high-flying urban adventures). You want to see the way his hair sticks up in the morning whilst the sun gives it a mixture of honey and bronze aura, running your hands through the mused up tufts of hair, which always leads to the corners of his eyes crinkling up as a sleepy, boyish smile tugs up on his rosy lips.

Selfish. You can’t help it.

You waited as long as you could; staring at your window for who knows how long. Your eyes were trained on the window for a good while, but you couldn't help it, all this anxiety finally got to you and you were feeling drained and your posture slumps with exhaustion. Your eyes burn from keeping them open, and soon those same eyes start to slowly droop. Blinking back sleepiness proved futile; your head eventually settled onto the cool silk of your pillow. The material greets your cheek, making it easier for you to be welcomed into slumber.

It was 4 am, yet your worries haven’t gone down at all. Your eyelids started to grow heavier, and darkness gradually enveloped your senses, until you heard a faint knock on your window, piercing the silence.

Your heart leapt, and you twisted towards the sound. In an instant, sleep was gone.

Not even a second later you heard your window opening—mm the sound of the cries. Your tired, red eyes snapped open. You were met with a disheveled and drained Peter Parker. His hair sticking to the nape of his neck and forehead, sweat giving him a post-shower appearance. A large laceration marred his chest. Oh. Your stomach dropped, eyes widened with horror at the sight of the injury. It looked like he was scratched -- no, clawed by someone or something. With quick motion, you quickly peel away the sheets, disentangling yourself from its soft embrace, and quickly hurrying to his side.

“Peter” you gasped softly. A hand settles onto his latex-clad one, the other arm wrapping around his waist to support him as you guide both him towards your bed, placing him where you had lain just seconds before. “It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it, seriously, I mean you should see the o-” Peter quickly swallows his words upon seeing your stern glare. He slumps his head downwards as he sighs in defeat.

You sigh, telling him quietly that you'll be back soon. You left him for a few moments before coming back with a wet rag. Gently, you tug at the suit, trying to cautiously take it off him without aggravating his wounds. Soon, you were met with his bare torso, which is marked with a huge claw mark. You mentally steel yourself before starting to lightly clean around the injury, dabbing the wet rag gently onto his toned chest as you avoid his eyes. It’s not like you were trying to make him feel bad, but you were also trying to cope with the situation. You don’t know if you were mad, relieved, sad, maybe all of the above? Uncertain emotions swirl within you, but one fact anchors your turbulent thoughts: he is here, safe, and alive. That's what truly matters.

Peter seems to catch your avoided gaze, he studies you for a few minutes. Biting the inside of his cheek as he purses his lips to the side, trying to figure out how to approach this situation. He takes in your furrowed eyebrows, the way you’re also biting the inside of your cheek as you put all your strength into avoiding his worried amber eyes. He knew the consequences of inviting someone into his dangerous life, it wasn’t exactly a warm and inviting embrace, nor was it appealing, but what he didn’t fully grasp is how it truly hurts you, in more ways than one. “Y/N…” he whispered, rough hands that have been through so much and experienced so much, reaching for the comfort of your skin but you gently dodge his touch, leading to a sudden twinge of anguish in his heart. You give him a slight smile to distinguish any suspicion – I mean, you weren’t doing a good job at it – before you continued cleaning the dirt away from his injury. Peter’s eyebrows furrow while his lips start to droop downwards, a frown laid upon his lips at the rejection.

Biting the inside of your cheek harder to stop the tears from flowing down the curve of your cheekbones. You keep on wiping his cuts clean, overs and overs again, getting flashbacks of his visits from the last time you had to patch him up. Blurred vision starts taking over your eyesight and all you can think about is his pain, what he goes through, his blood, the thought of losing him, life without him, the many ‘what ifs.’ The many times he almost visited death's door. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was like a burning sensation bubbling in the back of your throat, the sadness was too hard to keep buried down now. You started shaking and before you knew it your sobs filled the walls and all your fears were coming out of you in the form of a liquid pea that contained so much. As soon as the warm liquid left a path down the curve of your cheeks, peter panicked and rose to action just like the hero he is—your hero.

Quickly sitting up and fixing his posture, which made him wince slightly from the injuries but he pushed through, his mind set on you and only you. He wipes the tear away with the pad of his thumb and takes the wet rag away from your slightly shaky grip; gently putting it on your nightstand before he lightly reaches both of his hands out and holds onto your wrists.

“I can't” You choke out a sob.

“Hey shh it’s okay baby, what’s wrong? You can’t, what? Tell me,” He coos.

He hunches down, trying to find those eyes of yours that he swears are otherworldly, but you just can’t. You can’t see him like this. Hurt. In pain. Suffering. It pains you that he is in this much pain -- you can’t. “Peter I just… ” he gently takes your face in his hand, caressing your cheekbones with his thumbs that are growing wet from your moist cheeks. His heart hurts from the sight of you crying, it conjures a deep-seated throb of pain in his eyes. “Look at me,” he whispers softly, gently nudging your head up with his right hand that is slowly descending down to grasp your chin as if you were a treasure, in a way you are, to peter you are his treasure, the main reason he even gets up or even tries, you are his rock, the only thing that makes sense in his life, and god does he love you, he loves you so much that his heart hurts. A quiet sigh escapes you, it sounds defeated. “Please,” He pleaded oh-so-gently, his gaze unwavering but patient. You sniffle before swallowing down a ball of saliva forming in your throat. As soon as you look up you are met with a pair of almond-shaped umber eyes that are filled with the utmost care, worry, and a hint of guilt.

“Talk to me..” he whispers desperately, his heart crushing at the pain you are experiencing, he just wants to take it all away with his soft whispers but he knows they will be in vain. Shakingly exhaling “I can’t,” you frantically shake your head. “Please baby…” A few silent beats pass before you finally look back up to find those amber eyes looking back at you with nothing but worry and sincerity.

You take a deep breath before swallowing deeply ”Peter...I just…” another beat passes. You take a sharp deep breath. “I just really wish you would take more care of yourself, I...I know you love saving people and fighting crime and trust me I love you deeply for that but you come home everyday with a new wound that’s even deadlier than the last one,” You pause, licking your salty lips. “aren’t you worried that maybe those people that you save won’t have anyone to save them if they’re local neighborhood spider-man won’t be there to save them anymore..?” You ask him, almost in a plea. Peter bites the inside of his cheek, thinking over your words with a solemn expression forming on his face that are littered in small cuts from his last escapades. He diverts his gaze to the floor and the room is quickly overcome with silence as he takes in your words, letting the heaviness of your words sink in.

The silence fills the room, it lets you both engulf into your own thoughts. Peter knew what it meant when he finally told you he was the unmasked superhero. He remembers spilling his deadly secret on a rooftop late at night, where you both were admiring the stars, laying on a blanket and talking about anything and everything. He remembers looking over at you and admiring the way the moon was cascading down on you, making you look even more angelic and completely ethereal.

Peter looks at you hurt and guilty and god do you hate that. Both of you guys shared a gaze that held so much that it made the room feel denser as the distant sounds of ambulances filtered through the slightly open window. A breeze wafts in, brushes against you both, causing small goosebumps to prick up on your skin. Peter grew to learn from his past relationships and the impact it had on his partner knowing he was Spider-Man, which is why it hurts him to know he is the one making you feel like this. A calloused hand slowly creeps up, gently grasping your cheek with the utmost care, as if you were made of glass and he was scared of causing further harm. “I know, I know,” He murmurs, his voice breaking while his toughened fingers absentmindedly traces the curve of your cheek. “It’s just so hard to stop when I know I can make a difference.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as his words sink in. Your heart breaks knowing how much his words are true and the scary reality that he won’t stop until crime is put to bed and everyone can roam around the streets freely. You shook your head, one hand gently grasping his wrist. “But at what price, Pete?” you ask ever-so-softly like the question itself was forbidden territory. Those eyes that he loves so deeply, look up into his eyes and it causes a gnawing feeling in his chest, almost making him wince from how hurt you look, how scared you look. Peter bites the inside of his cheek a bit harder while furrowing his brows, trying to think of what to tell you because he himself doesn’t know.

He takes a shaky breath, adjusting the grip on your face and slowly pulling your head a bit closer until both of your foreheads are resting against one another, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. The brush of skin itself was tender-filled, telling a millions of words with just one movement. “I am just sick of all the crimes happening here and the cops not even doing anything about it.” Peter whispered, his voice a low blend of anger and helplessness. You could feel the raggedness of his breath, each exhale a testament to the battles he fought alone in the shadows of the city. The close proximity allowed you to see the subtle tension in his jaw, the way his eyes shuttered as if bracing against a storm of inner conflict. “Peter, I know you care – it’s one of the things I love about you,” you respond gently, reaching up to smooth a stray lock of hair from his clammy forehead. “But you can’t carry this burden alone. It’s too much for one person, even for Spider-Man.” Your voice was a soothing whisper, trying to pierce the armor of duty he wore so steadfastly.

Peter simply nodded, the weight of the world momentarily lightened by your understanding. You saw the fortress around his heart crumbling, if only just a bit. His eyes, usually so vibrant and full of life, now shimmered with unshed tears, reflecting the constant battle between his duty and his love for you.

“I’m sorry…” Peter’s voice broke through the silence, each word heavy with remorse. He leans forwards, delicately kissing your forehead which grounds you and makes you close your eyes momentarily as you cherish the soft kiss that eases your heart just a bit. “I am sorry for not fully understanding what you are going through. I am so, so sorry,” He whispers into the dark night, the words flowing into the air as gently as ever. A few beats of silence pass while you take in his words. It gave your weary heart time to mend. Peter leaned back slightly so he could get a better look at you, his gaze locked with yours, conveying a depth of sincerity and vulnerability. “I’m truly, deeply, sorry” He whispers once more before he starts to softly press kisses underneath where your ear and jaw meet, your cheeks, forehead, nose, the wrinkles in the middle of your eyebrows, smoothing them out with the pad of his thumb, and finally kissing your lips, so delicately, it makes you want to cry even more.

The kiss was so deliberate, it was a bundle of promises that his lips sealed to keep, an abundance of love, tenderness, deep affection and care that runs so deeply into his veins that it affects his touches and kisses, he can’t help but pour it all into the kiss, he just wanted you to know how sorry he is. He wanted you to know that he never meant to hurt you, whether it was indirect or direct. It makes your heart flutter and reassures your timid heart. Slowly one hand moves to cup the left side of your face as his other hand descends down towards the side of your neck as peter tastes the saline on your moist-tear lips, but even that doesn’t stop him from pressing gentle kisses against your lips, it only fuels his love, turning the kisses even more tender. Each kiss conveys a message of “I’m sorry, I love you, please know I love you.” You can taste the metallic on his lips as your lips were caressing his back as equally gently and lovingly, your kisses filled with a message of “It’s okay, I love you.”

Peter slowly pulls back from the kiss, his mouth hovers over yours, his breath fanning over your lips, noses rubbing against each other in the tenderest manner ever. Both of your eyes were still closed, taking in everything, cherishing one another. His right hand moving back up to cradle your face, both hands cradling your cheeks and caressing them with the pad of his thumbs in a feather-like caress. You nuzzle your cheek against his right hand, feeling the rough and calloused palm that you grew to admire and adore. It always provided you with such care and comfort, always caressing or reaching out to gently touch you. Both of your hands now encircled around his wrist, caressing the inside of it so softly that it makes Peter almost melt.

Slowly, Peter opens his eyes. His amber gaze held nothing but love and the utmost care. Shortly after he opened his eyes, your eyes opened as well. Both of you search each other’s eyes as a white noise of admiration passes you both. After a moment of silent communion, the air between you both thickens with unspoken words and shared feelings, Peter finally speaks, his voice a soft murmur against the quiet room. “I can’t promise there won’t be more nights like this,” he says, his honesty laying bare the truth of both of your lives entwined with danger and uncertainty. “But I promise you, no matter how many crazy guys in suits I have to fight, I’ll always do my best to come back… to this, to us.”

This promise, simple yet profound, strikes a chord within you. It’s not a heroic declaration from Spider-Man, but a heartfelt vow from Peter Parker, the boy behind the mask, the one you fell in love with. His words acknowledge the reality of his life—danger is part of the package, yet he’s equally committed to your shared life, to you, and he isn’t going anywhere.

You feel a surge of mixed emotions: fear for the dangers he faces, gratitude for his honesty, and love for the person he is. “And I’ll be here,” you say, matching his tone with a blend of seriousness and affection, “not just to patch you up and be your personal nurse, but to love you.” The corners of his lips quirk up, his eyes twinkling with love as he takes in your words. He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead, a silent vow of his commitment. “Thank you,” he whispers, gratitude resonating in his voice, “for everything.”

“Of course,” You whispered.

The two of you stay like that, embraced in the warmth of your love for one another, finding comfort in the silence that now speaks volumes. The world outside, with its chaos and challenges, seems momentarily distant as you both cherish this safe haven of understanding and love you’ve created together.

#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #andrew garfield #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman #tasm andrew garfield #light angst #fluff #peter parker fluff #tasm fluff

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jvnluvr · 1 year

Text

blue lock boys when they are drunk ♡

when the blue lock boys come home drunk, all they want is you.

ft. sae, rin & kaiser x f!reader

author’s note: im a sucker for my favs okay? fluffiest fluff i’ve ever written i almost cried ten different times send help hsish. also thank you all for 100 followers, i love u all sm mwah. i’m working on requests, they will come soon! otherwise please enjoy <33

itoshi sae:

god, he didn’t even know how he ended up in this position. all sae could remember was losing his game, walking out of that stadium with his usual blank expression, but then his legs took him to the nearest bar. he’s so drunk, heck, he even remembers smoking a cigarette or two while he was chugging down everything. he's overcome with a lot of emotions, but then he remembers.

he wants to go home. he’s up, and he’s walking home. it’s late, its dark, yet he’s still able to somehow manage to get to the front step before he knocks on the door, holding onto it because he’ll fall if he doesn’t. that’s when you open the door and sae falls into your arms. "sae-? what happened?" you ask, trying your best to not let him fall while shutting the door.

you already knew he lost, you were obviously watching the streamed game. but when sae loses, he shuts everyone out for a day at the very least. however, it's weird to find him falling onto you, at your doorstep, and incredibly late at night. he smells like cigarettes, and that's when you understand what is going on.

"sit down, i'll get you water." you guide him to the couch, slowly trying to let go of his arm so you can lie down, but he doesn't let go of you. instead, he pulls you down with him so you're lying down on top of him. "uh, what's this about? you gonna talk to me..?" to say you're confused right now is kind of an understatement. sae hasn't spoken a word to you since he entered, just mindless grumbles and sighs until now, where it's almost like he's searching into your eyes for something.

"y'know, you're a whole lot prettier up close, right?"

what..?

your eyes probably looked bugged right now. you know he's not sober, but when people are drunk, their true feelings come out. sae's never really been an openly affectionate man, you knew that from the moment you met him. so hearing him suddenly throw a compliment into your face has you stunned to say the least.

"c'mon don't look at me like that... this is new to me too.." he mumbles, a red tint starting to appear on his cheeks. he grabs you by your waist to sit you on his lap, and you start to turn red too. "seriously, what's gotten into you sae?" you ask quietly, you both letting out a small chuckle as you stare at each other.

"i don' know.. it's your fault." you tilt your head as his one hand intertwines with yours. "you have beautiful eyes too.. you know that?" you let out a little gasp as your eyes avert away from him. you can feel your ears getting hotter and hotter as each seconds by. now you're actually worried, since when has he thought of these things?

sae put a hand on your cheek to turn you back to him. he has that soft smile plastered onto his face. your gaze softens as he continues talking to you. "you've always had.. that bright light in your eyes... even the first night we met. 't was what got me so interested in you." you bite your lip at that, small water drops forming into your eyes. it wasn't possible for your heart to not melt as those words. "the only thing.. i could think about.. was how much i liked you. how much my heart yearned for you. for how happy i am, to have you in my life now."

he wipes a tear of yours while eliciting that little soft but deep chuckle you always adored. "c'mon, don't cry, was just being honest.." he hugged you, burying his face into your neck and closing his eyes. you were almost certain that after that the alcohol consumed him, that he was too drowsy to even remember all the words he just said. but it's okay. for the chance you got to see itoshi sae confess his love in his own way. you whispered out an "i love you' before falling asleep beside him.

michael kaiser:

"babyy, i'm homee!" yeah, he was definitely slurring over each word he said. you walked out the kitchen, staring as kaiser almost fell atleast 5 times trying to walk over to you. it was hard to try and not laugh at how adorable he was being all tipsy, it was like he was a little child again.

“michael.” you giggled, trying to get him to sit on the chair but you both fell against each other on the floor. “that hurt!” his cheeks are more than just flushed and his eyes are half open. "who are ya, and where's my girlfriend?" to be honest, you were kind of hurt that he couldn't recognize you even while you were right in his face, but kaiser can be a little slow even when sober.

"c'mon michael, 'is me, your girlfriend." you retorted, wrapping your arms around him in an attempt to get him to sit down on a chair. but of course, kaiser being kaiser doesn't want to be apart from you for even a second, so he pulls you onto his lap. "i know, 'was just messin' with ya. i'm not that drunk, y'know?" you could only blankly stare at him as he confessed to that. even the dumbest person alive could tell that lie straight through his teeth.

"you are seriously not gonna tell me you aren't THAT drunk. you slipped over the fuckin' air." you both looked at each other, slightly grinning at that. silence. ah there it is, you both burst out laughing not even a second after, because you know it was true. "honestly though, you REEK of alcohol, go shower or somethin'." you tried getting off his lap, you really did. but does he care? of course not.

"no, 'm gonna stay here, too tired to shower..." you let out a small sigh at that, but if he wasn't going to get into the shower, you weren't going to let him doze off in his uncomfy chair. both of your backs couldn't take that kind of pain right now. "okay okay, we're both tired, let's go to bed, hm?" kaiser quietly grumbled as a counter, not wanting to let you go. at that point, your sounds started to sound more grumpy. you should have dragged him to bed when you had the chance.

"hiii babyy, i love you." kaiser suddenly said, with a smile hanging ear to ear. you didn't know what he was up to, but you just quietly ignored his statement of affection. "you're really cute when you're grumpy," he added, followed by a bunch of little mischievous giggles. "but you're cute all the time, so it makes it absolutelyyy irresistible to stay mad at you." you're so embarrassed by kaiser's sudden overload of compliments that, you start to playfully hit him? one hit to the arm, one hit to the head, and you continue in order to stop being so flustered by the drunk man in front of you.

"ow! i literally said you're cute, why are you hitting me- stop! ow!" even if you were hitting him, kaiser couldn't help but let out more laughs when he realized why you were hitting him. "aww, you're embarrased, aren't ya?" he pressed you for a kiss, but you just put your hand over his mouth to push him back. you couldn't take being more abashed over your extraordinarily drunk boyfriend.

"if you're not gonna accept my love, let me properly confess it, alrightt?" again, you were too afraid to even blurt out a single world in fear of stuttering and having kaiser coo into your ear about how cute you were. so you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue his speech. "got your attention, pretty? i've had a crush on you since the first time i met you, like the biggest crush ever, like the moment i saw you i swear those hearts appeared in my eyes like they do in cartoon shows." he was stuttering as the alcohol was still rushing in his system, but kaiser sounded like a little boy who had been lovestruck with the mere thought of you.

"you're so stupid sometimes.." you mumbled, but nonetheless giddy with happiness and love. "maybe, but i'm stupidly in love with you." all you could do was let out a sheepish smile before pulling him into a hug. "i love you.." and that was followed with snores. you didn't really plan on how to move kaiser out of this awkward position, but what you did know that he was a pretty cute lovestruck man when he was drunk.

itoshi rin:

rin isn't one to typically get drunk, he's not even one to have maybe more than three shots of alcohol at most. but tonight, he went completely overboard. maybe the drinks just tasted good, maybe he had lost his mind. not the matter of how he got drunk, but he was stumbling into your shared apartment when you just barely saw you peeking through your bedroom door through his blurry eyes.

"rin, are you okay..?" you murmured, slowing walking towards him. "mm, 'm fine, were you sleeping?" even if he was on the verge of passing out, rin was one of those guys who was able to maintain his composure. he didn't like how he felt, so he stride towards the kitchen, aching for a glass of water. "was waiting for you, did you drink, rin?" he turned around to see you standing there waiting for him.

"mhm, sorry, don't know what got over me. wait in the room for me, i'll be in there soon." he replied, turning back around to put his glass in the sink, but when he shifted back, he could still see you waiting his in peripheral vision. "what are you waiting for, [name]?" rin asked, still feeling the horrible effects of the alcohol continuing to flow through his blood stream. "i told you, 'm waiting for you." you knew that if you went back, he would fall asleep on the nearby couch, heck even fall and just pass out on the floor, he was drunk out of his mind.

"alright, c'mon let's go." he slowly trailed behind you, the cold air hitting him in the face when he realized he feels way too hot. rin slowly discards his jacket and his shirt, moving to lie down with you. but the one thing he couldn't help but notice is that you didn't make direct eye contact with him, your eyes are averted in every direction except his, why is that? maybe the reason he hated alcohol so much is because of what it does to him. he wants your attention, he craves for your touch, it's weird to him.

so rin extends his arm towards you, he has a hold on your waist before you're too close to him. "what's wrong..?" he examines you, how you're still not looking into his eyes. "look at me, why aren't you looking at me honey?" he's surprised that it does the trick, because your eyes are finally in his direct field of view, and his heart melts. "nothin', just thought you might have wanted to sleep, so didn't wanna' bother you." you answered shyly, realizing now that he wanted nothing more than you. it's silent for a bit, just the both of you in each other's embrace, lying down in the dark.

"mm, you don't bother me, you know that?" he starts, rin doesn't realize that all of sudden he's rambling to you. "i say you shouldn't be nervous but the truth is.. i'm always a bit nervous around you. we've been together for a while but.. i don't know.. i just.. always want to know more about you. it drives me insane sometimes, 'cause i don't usually care about people like that. but for you i just-" he's pulling you closer into your chest, noticing how your grip tightens on him as he continues speaking. "i just want to know every tiny detail about you. i notice the small things about you. the way your smile goes slightly down, you touch the tip of your eyes when your embarrassed, and you always touch the same spot-" he intertwines his hands with yours, rubbing over the spot he's just about to mention. "you always touch the same spot of your hand when you're focused. i pay attention to those things because i care about you, i hope you knew that."

"rin.." you whisper, it's all you could physically verbalize. but all you could feel were the hot tears you were spilling onto his chest. you felt guilty, quickly trying to wipe them away, but he looked down to hush your sobs. "'m sorry, didn't wanna make you cry. i meant it though, even if i don't say it much." it's undeniable that you just want to be even closer to him than humanely possible, you wouldn't dare think of even letting him go for a second after that. "i think you should get drunk more often," which dragged a small string of chuckles from you two. "being drunk sucks, but we can compromise and i'll try and tell you how much i love and want to be with you more, yea?" rin shared, fumbling over his words. yep, still definitely drunk.

"mhm, go to sleep now, 'kay?" you acknowledged, content with how tonight turned out to be. "you go to sleep too, i love you." and rin let himself pass out in the comfort of your presence. not only until a few moments later could you say 'i love you' back, but he was secretly waiting to fall asleep until he heard confirmation of your feelings.

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verstappensrealwife · 3 months

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hello, can you write about lewis proposing to his girlfriend on the beach

Love on the Beach - Lewis Hamilton x Fem!Reader

fluff.

approx. 1030 words.

warnings: kissing?

lewis hamilton masterlist - here. f1 masterlist - here.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the tranquil shoreline, Lewis found himself standing on the sandy expanse of a secluded beach. With the gentle rhythm of the waves as his soundtrack, and the salty breeze caressing his skin, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, masking the nervous excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

Beside him, his heart beat in time with the ocean's gentle lullaby, echoing the anticipation that pulsed through his veins.

Today was no ordinary day; it was the day he had been waiting for, the day he would ask the love of his life to spend forever by his side.

As he watched the waves dance along the shore, Lewis's mind drifted back to the moments you had shared, the laughter, the tears, the countless memories that had woven your hearts together like an intricate tapestry. And as he thought about the future that lay ahead, he knew that there was nowhere else he would rather be than here, on this beach, with the woman who had captured his heart in ways he never thought possible.

With a steadying breath, Lewis reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box nestled within. The weight of the ring felt like a promise, a symbol of his unwavering commitment to the woman he loved. And as he turned to face you, the setting sun painting a halo of golden light around your silhouette, he knew that this moment would be etched into your memories forever, the beginning of a new chapter in your love story.

As Lewis's words washed over you, filling the air with a sense of love and vulnerability, you felt a rush of emotion welling up inside you. Tears pooled in your eyes as his heartfelt confession echoed in your ears, each word a testament to the depth of his love for you.

And then, in a moment that seemed to freeze in time, he sank to one knee before you, his eyes filled with nervous anticipation as he held out a small velvet box. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, stunned by the realization of what was happening.

"Oh, my god," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to comprehend the enormity of the moment.

As Lewis spoke your name, his voice trembling with emotion, you turned to face him, your eyes locking with his in a silent exchange of love and understanding. And then, before you could even process what was happening, he asked the question that would change your lives forever.

“Y/N, I have loved you since the day I met you. From the first moment our paths crossed, I knew that you were destined to be more than just a passing acquaintance in my life. You have been my rock, my confidant, my greatest source of joy and inspiration. In your presence, I have found a kind of happiness that I never knew was possible. And that is why I am asking you here, now. Will you marry me?”

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you threw yourself into his arms, overcome with emotion. He stood up quickly, lifting you with him as you peppered his face with kisses, your heart overflowing with love and joy.

"Yes, yes a million times yes!" you cried, your voice choked with emotion as you held him close.

With trembling hands, Lewis reached for the ring, his fingers shaking as he slid it onto your finger. As you admired the beautiful ring that now adorned your hand, your heart swelled with gratitude for the man who had chosen to spend his life with you, and the promise of a future filled with love and happiness.

The engagement ring that Lewis delicately slipped onto your finger was a breathtaking sight to behold. It featured a dazzling round-cut diamond as the centerpiece, nestled within a delicate platinum setting that glimmered in the soft light of the setting sun.

Surrounding the radiant diamond were intricate pave diamonds, their shimmering brilliance adding a touch of elegance and sophistication to the design. The band itself was sleek and refined, adorned with additional diamonds that cascaded down the sides like a cascade of sparkling stars.

As you admired the ring, you couldn't help but marvel at its beauty, each facet catching the light in a mesmerising display of brilliance. It was a symbol of Lewis's love and commitment, a tangible reminder of the promise they had made to each other on this unforgettable day.

With every glance at the ring, you felt your heart swell with gratitude and love for the man who had chosen it for you, and the future that lay ahead as you embarked on this new chapter of your lives together.

In the months that followed the magical beachside proposal, Lewis and yourself found yourselves swept up in a whirlwind of wedding planning and anticipation. Together, you poured your hearts and souls into creating a celebration that reflected your love and commitment to each other, weaving together elements of their shared passions and dreams.

Finally, the day arrived when you stood hand in hand, surrounded by your loved ones, on the same sun-drenched beach where your journey had begun. As the gentle breeze whispered through the air and the waves crashed rhythmically against the shore, they exchanged vows of love and devotion, promising to stand by each other through life's joys and challenges.

With tears of joy glistening in your eyes, you sealed your vows with a kiss, surrounded by the love and support of their family and friends. And as you danced under the stars, hand in hand, you knew that your love was a force to be reckoned with, a bond that would only grow stronger with each passing day.

el fin.

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urwifebabes · 1 month

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Hiii! Sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could do Dogday and/or Catnap with a dog smiling critter!Reader? like they're a newer bigger body experiment? (Totally not just referencing slightly to my own oc because I want more dog smiling critter!Reader) fluff or smut I don't care! :3

“What’s your name?”

Relationship(s): Dogday x dog!reader

Warning(s): fluff, smut, mentions of a litter (kids)

It was a normal day, the critters woke up early. helped the kids out of bed, brush their teeth, get dressed, and make everyone breakfast. see? normal. that was until they seen another dog that wasn’t their happy fun-going orange friend.

you had stood in the front gate of the playcare and Dogday, being the good boy he was, he came over to you first cheerfully. “hi! names Dogday! yours?” You looked at him and you slowly warmed up to him. “y/n.” he gave you a warm smile and gently took your hand in his. you followed wherever he took you.

you met Kickin first. he had greeted you with his signature “cool move” before he told you his name. you smiled and waved as Dogday and him began to talk about the shifts they would have during the day. you stood off to the side while they decided that, feeling abit awkward.

before long, Dogday noticed and took your hand in his, pulling you closer as he continued his conversation. you blushed abit as his arms were wrapped around your shoulders and his hip was touching yours. he eventually finished his conversation and you guys began to walk and talk as he showed you everywhere he thought you’d need to know. who am I kidding? he showed you everything!

He even warned you about Catnap! that was sweet, yes?

for the first month, he courted you. He brought you flowers. He brought you candies. He brought you soft pillows. He even would come in your room and fuck your pretty plush thighs since you wouldn’t let him do you, just yet. after though, would be so special. he made sure you were happy with the critters. he made sure kickin wasn’t too loud or eager around you. he made sure you didn’t get overwhelmed with love with Bobby. he definitely made sure Hoppy didn’t pressure you because he knew how much his baby didn’t like a lot of noise. Don’t get me started with Catnap. He actually boils when you even look catnaps way. but of course, he would never show it. Bubba couldn’t get angry at you if you messed up any problem because what did you look like, a mathematician? Picky piggy couldn’t force feed you because you didn’t like that and your my man Dogday wouldn’t ever allow that. CraftyCorn could NOT yell at you about paint or Dogday would take it from her with a smile on his face.

About 3 months later, he had you flipped on your knees and sliding back and forth against his cock. he whimpers as he feels your gummy walls, squeezing his fat tip. you bit your lip as you lowered yourself against the bulbous head. Dogdays hands reached out and slammed you down, hitting your cervix immediately. you cried out as he took control and fucked you into your shared mattress.

afterwards, he’d grab a warm towel and gently slide the cloth over your slimy folds as you babbles mindlessly. he chuckled and coo’d to you as he threw the towel aside and got into bed with his pretty puppy. he’d kiss against your shoulder and talk about your guys’ future. your guys is litter running around as he rubbed your belly until you fell asleep.

‘Just like putty.’ Dogday sighed happily before he snuggled into a soft sleeping pattern with you.

A/N: SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IN A MINUTTEE LOLL… PART 2 ?

TAGS: @2faced-fairy @alyssalololol

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qrrieterisunnq · 3 days

Text

Tough Game - Nico Hischier

SUMMARY: Y/n is on her way to get water when Nico comes home from a tough game, all pouty and sad. He envelops her in a tight hug, not wanting to let go. When he realizes she’s holding a glass in her hand, guilt washes over him, because she never drinks enough, and now, he’s keeping her away from doing so

WARNINGS: Fluff, crying Nico

WORD COUNT: 0,6K

AUTHOR'S NOTE: hope you'll like it, it's unedited so I might change something when I have time to edit the rest of the fics! So just enjoy this fic and happy rest of the day!

masterlist | wip's

You turn on your left side, letting out a long sigh. You focus your eyes on the alarm on Nico’s nightstand, the digits slowly changing as time passes.

You stay in bed for another few minutes before you decide to get a glass of water. You’ve been struggling with your drinking routine since you were eighteen, Nico is always the one keeping an eye on you, and when you’re alone, you always receive a text from him, to remind you, that you should have a glass of water. So now, even though it's 1 am, you stand up from your bed and make your way to the kitchen, to refill your glass.

Just when you step foot in the living room, the doors to your apartment open, revealing your lovely man. He doesn’t pay attention that someone is standing in the living room, he just drops the bag from his shoulder down to the floor, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Baby?” you whisper, not wanting to scare him. He turns his head in your direction, letting out yet another sigh.

“Hi.” he whispers staying on the spot.

“You played so well, my love.” You send him a big smile, walking over to the couch to sit down. You pat the spot next to you, saying to him silently to sit next to you.

With five long steps, he's sitting next to you, his hands in his lap, as he plays with his fingers.

“I played like a shit.” He mumbles so quietly you nearly don’t hear it.

“No, you didn’t you played amazingly today,” You place your hand on his tight, squeezing it slightly. Scooting closer to him, you place the glass on the table giving him your full attention. “You did so good. And the goal you scored was gorgeous. You can’t take the whole thing on yourself Neeks. The team played with you, they took part in it too, so don't stress too much about it.” You smile at him, as you take his hands in yours. He just nods his head, leaning his back on the sofa.

You take your glass again, standing up from your seat, to finally refill your glass. Unfortunately, you’re stopped by his hand on your wrist and a pout on his lips.

“Don’t leave me,” his voice is low and filled with something you can’t describe. “Please.” He tugs at your hand, pulling you down in his lap, and pulling you in a tight hug.

“I’m not going anywhere, anytime sooner,” you whisper in his hair, kissing his forehead. “I love you. I’ll never leave you, baby.” You keep saying over and over again.

“Fuck! Baby, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, tears in his eyes as he pulls away from you.

“For what?” you ask confused, taking his cheeks in your palms, to make him look at you.“You were on your way to get a drink and I stopped you from doing so. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” He cries out. All the emotions finally flowed away. You just pull him in another hug, kissing his forehead.

“You were on your way to get a drink and I stopped you from doing so. I’m a terrible boyfriend.” He cries out. All the emotions finally flowed away. You just pull him in another hug, kissing his forehead.

“You are not,” you say softly, caressing his cheeks. “Come on,” you get down from his lap tugging at his hand, for him to stand up. “Go take a shower, I’ll get my water and then we’ll get some sleep, okay?” standing up on your tiptoes you kiss his lips with a soft hum.

“I love you so fucking much, y/n.”

“I love you too. Now go!” you pat his ass with a small giggle. Nico just shakes his head and makes his way to your shared bathroom.

#nico hischier #nico hischier fic #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nh13 #nhl #nhl fanfiction #nj devils #nhl hockey #new jersey devils fic

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donaweasley · 1 month

Text

Promises to Keep

Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader

Plot:

Geralt is tasked with protecting a princess but his feelings keep poking at him, urging him to shed his tough armour and give in to his heart. But the witcher is a righteous man. He won’t succumb to his feelings so easily. Will he?

Some pining, some fluff that will lead to a “part 2” of this story.

Warnings: A bit of m.at.ure stuff. K.i.d.s better stay away!

Read time: ~15 mins

Note: This story has been based in a timeline before the fall of Cintra, and so, Geralt has not yet started his quest for Ciri. Oh, and he doesn’t fall in love with Yennefer. 😉

Prologue:

Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with many a difficult missions but the hardest of them all was probably not killing but protecting a person. That person was a princess whose parents had specifically called for Geralt to take their daughter under his wing as Nilfgaard marched towards their doorstep.

The princess could fight; she had been in battles but Nilfgaard had morphed into something entirely different from what the Continent had previously seen. It was as though Hell itself had poured into their army, leaving a trail of ash and blood wherever it went.

And so, turning all cries and protests from the said princess to deaf ears, her parents sent her away, in return of an assurance from her that, should their kingdom fall, she would come back and restore it to its glory, flying their banners from every nook and corner.

They knew she could, they had said.

The journey with Geralt had not been easy, moving from camp to camp, from inn to inn, not to mention the complications of his profession. But time gradually made things easier for them both, eventually bringing them to a point where they could comfortably pose as husband and wife so as to protect her identity, and avail a temporary shelter in a village.

And even though they were living a lie of being a married pair, their hearts often wished to forget reality, and enjoy the bliss of domestic life with one another. To be with each other unconditionally, forgetting all rules and boundaries.

But Geralt was a man of ethics, and she did not want him to bear the burden of guilt just because her stupid heart could not stop fluttering for this kind, brave gentleman with a heart of gold!

And thus, neither, for fear of straining what they already had, could ever utter their feelings to each other. After all, they had promises to keep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months ago:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She hurt herself on the thick leather armour as she flung her arms around his neck. But she did not care. That was a pain she would happily endure if it meant seeing Geralt at her doorstep safe and sound.

He smelled of sweat and blood and the swamp. He probably tasted like it, too. Alright, so what? The man returned after three weeks from the edge of the Continent. And perhaps from the edge of life. She couldn't care less about what he smelled or tasted like. But did he really…? She was very close to confirming her assumption - almost there - when Geralt suddenly remembered his place: the protector of the princess, a mere witcher.

“Princess,” the rich baritone vibrating in her ear woke her up from her purple dream. She could not help but lean back when she found her “husband” doing the same.

Geralt spread his arms slightly, and smiled with that usual softness in his eyes that came to the forefront only when she was around. “Safe and sound. Just like I had promised.”

“I am honoured!” She jested, and stepped inside, making room for Geralt to do the same.

“Give me a minute. I'll draw a bath for you. And once you have cleaned that mess off you, you'll have a warm dinner waiting,” she smiled and turned to make her way to the bath when Geralt gently but firmly held her wrist.

Neither could deny the spark that coursed through their veins at the contact. But neither would confess. Involuntarily, the witcher’s thumb made faint circles over her veins. Once he realised what he was doing, he slowly released her but their fingers lingered over the other’s before finally making some room between them.

Geralt pleaded with her to stop fussing over it all but the woman was ecstatic! Who could stop her from doing everything she could for the man she was falling in love with! Not even the strongest witcher.

And so, she hopped away to prepare a warm bath for him while he busied himself with the relieving task of removing his armour and weapons.

Geralt lay in the bath, pondering over the unsaid things that have been passing between the princess and him. Especially the ones that happened that evening. They had never been this close before, and it only made his breath shallower every time he thought about it. His mind wandered away unleashed every time his drunken heart slipped into fantasies of what could have happened had he not pulled away from her embrace…or what might happen if he allowed himself a bit more liberty with his feelings…

A gentle knock on the door startled him, bringing him back to the reality of the small room lit by two candles, back to the fact that the woman living under the same roof with him was his mission, not his real wife, as the villagers knew her to be. There was no way a witcher could dream of having a wife and a family, let alone with a princess!

“Need anything?” The voice was gentle, happy…it was caring. It made Geralt smile to think that someone cared so deeply for him, that he was actually having a domestic life, even though a fake one.

“Your company would be nice,” he quipped.

Geralt grinned wickedly. He did not need to see her to know the blush creeping up her ears and cheek.

Over the months their relationship - real or fake, whatever that was - had built into a strong bond, one that was made of cares, banters, challenges, huffs (and not just from the witcher), puns of all kinds and fluttering heartbeats. And though neither backed down during the banters or the puns, either one of them definitely ended up with blood rushing up their cheeks.

(Y/N) bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Two could play this game. Taking a deep breath, she cracked the door open. It startled Geralt, and she could tell it without seeing his wide eyes and parted lips.

“I believe you have a lot to talk about from your adventure?” She slowly walked in, eyes straining to look anywhere but at him.

She did not receive an immediate response. How could she! Geralt was spellbound by the boldness of this woman! It was inspired by his own recent boldness, perhaps, he wondered.

He cleared his throat, “Indeed.”

She picked up a small wooden stool, and sat with her back to him. “You were saying?”

“I would detail everything but are you sure you can stomach all that? And before dinner?”

Glimpses from his previous tales crept back, and she gulped at the gory imaginations that his words had painted in her head. Perhaps she could not. But would she confess? No!

“I’m tougher than you think, witcher.”

This was their usual way of addressing each other: “Witcher”, with a sarcastic stress in the middle of the word, and “Princess”, with a vanity enveloping the word.

When they had set out for their journey, she had requested him not to call her “princess”. “I have a name, and I would like to be addressed by it,” she had insisted. But Geralt had decided on maintaining his propriety.

When asked whether he would like to be addressed as Geralt or Witcher, he had simply mumbled, “Whatever you like, Princess.”

“Witcher it is then.”

And that has ever been going on, until recently when some rare moments witnessed them addressing each other by their names, and not what they were to the world.

In the small bathroom now, she heard a slosh behind her, signalling the rise of the large man from his bath. She tried her best to stop her shameless mind from picturing his wet body, dripping with water as he stood and stepped out of the tub, as he reached for the towel nearby and dried himself with it before wrapping it low around his waist. But the quiet of the night made sure that every little sound and movement reached her ears, leaving her a slave to her unabashed imagination.

Geralt grunted, the sound coming from right above her head.

“I know you can’t take it…Princess,” the last word was practically breathed on the shell of her ear.

Leaving her a total mess, Geralt sauntered out of the bathroom with a promise to indulge her in his stories after dinner.

That night, in the faint light of the moon, nimble fingers traced the contours of the witcher’s face as he slept - brows slightly arched, lips parted, face as serene as a dawn in Spring. She watched him breathe peacefully, devoid of the cares of the world, until a small smile cracked at a corner of his mouth. With eyes still closed, he placed a hand on hers and brought it to his lips. A chaste kiss was all it was, and yet it had her heart thundering. He had never - ever - shown any affection other than soft looks and gentle smiles.

“Sleep princess,” he rasped in a sleepy voice.

He opened his eyes once, to watch her smile at him, before holding her hand snuggly and drifting back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present day:

The sound of the door cracking open brought her back to the present. Quickly slipping a little more below the soapy water, she gripped the hilt of her sword.

It was Geralt. The moment he set one foot inside, his eyes went wide. It took him hardly a second to swing on his heels, to look away, but the sinful image had planted itself in his head. Probably for eternity.

“Pardon me. I…I did not know… I thought you were done. I just returned from outside; I did not notice that you were not anywhere else. I…”

“Geralt!” His name. She spoke his name! That, along with her soothing tone put an abrupt end to his string of stammering apologies. “It’s alright. I know you had no ill intentions.”

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet for a couple of seconds, he asked, “Do you need anything?”

Her lips stretched into a smirk as she recalled an old conversation that had occurred under very similar circumstances.

“Your company would be nice,” she quipped, just like Geralt had a few months ago.

The witcher recognised the joke immediately. A small smile escaped his usual serious features.

“I believe you have a lot to talk about your first kill,” he jested just like she had back then.

The sigh that filled the room made Geralt wonder if he had said something uncalled for. She was shaken by the incident but if she was making jokes now, she must be recovering. Right?

“(Y/N),” Geralt called without looking at her, “are you alright?”

“No, if truth be told,” came the confession.

He understood. Keeping his gaze focused on the floor, he took a few large steps until he was standing near the foot of the tub. In one smooth move, he was sitting on the floor with his back to her.

There was something about Geralt that made her feel protected all the time. Even in her most exposed and vulnerable state, she felt safe and comfortable with him around. And it was not just the love she felt for him. It was something else. It was something…very “Geralt”.

“The monsters we kill haunt our minds till long after. You never get used to it no matter how many kills you have made,” he sighed.

(Y/N) listened quietly. He was a man of few words, and at most times it seemed as though he was not even listening. But he always understood every single unexpressed emotion, every single unsaid word that she carried within her.

“Every time I close my eyes or every time I hear something, fear grips me,” she shivered at the thought. “You are right. I'm haunted by its memory, and … I cannot seem to shake the thoughts off. No matter how hard I try! I cannot even be courageous enough to convince myself that it is all in my head!” She slapped the water in frustration.

Unlike the witcher, killing monsters was not her profession nor did she volunteer for it. But what she did volunteer for was accompanying Geralt to a trip to the river caves for some herbs. Despite the witcher’s efforts to shield her inside the safety of their home, she managed to argue her way out of the proverbial safety net. Which is what led to the unforeseen event of her first close encounter with one of the many monsters that had become part of Geralt’s life. It also led her to, for the first time, being at the receiving end of Geralt’s fury for risking her life .

‘You were very courageous back there,” Geralt smiled at the memory of her driving her sword through the neck of the drowner, thus saving his own neck in the process.

“I had to be! Couldn’t just stand there and watch my favourite grumpy fellow die!” She jested about it but a shiver ran up her spine as she spoke. “It was disgusting, you know? I can still feel all the blood and slime on my skin.”

“It was also very brave. You saved my life!”

He had thought that his statement would make her proud but he was met with silence.

She spoke after a while. “You do know that I shall not be able to live anymore if something happens to you, don’t you? I shall only survive.”

Geralt’s heart suddenly felt very heavy in his chest. What she said was known information to him. Somewhere in his soul, he knew that she loved him. But to hear it aloud was totally unexpected.

“I shall be fine, princess,” he used his most assuring voice. “Do not worry about me.”

Unseen by him, a smile formed on her countenance. “I know, witcher.”

“Maybe we could talk about something else?” He suggested. “Take your mind off the monster?”

“Hmm… How is Jaskier?” She suddenly asked.

Geralt almost turned his head towards her in surprise. Almost. She was naked, having a bath, and the first “something else” that came to her mind was the bard??

“Jaskier?” He asked. “You wish to talk about Jaskier now?”

“Well, you wanted to talk about something else!”

Was that jealousy that she was sensing in his huffs? She hoped it was.

“He must be fine. I do not know.” He ended the topic as quickly as it had begun.

“Hmm.”

The princess laid her head back on the tub and closed her eyes. There was a comfortable silence. So comfortable that she did want to leave, did not want to do anything that might disturb the moment. Even though it was getting late. Even though Geralt still had to wash himself.

Geralt still has to wash himself! Shit! He must be hungry!

Her eyes shot open. “I’m sorry, I forgot you have to wash up, too! I shall be quick.”

The sudden splash of water pulled Geralt out of his own reverie, inadvertently causing him to turn around so as to ask her not to hurry. But the sight before him left him speechless. It was fortunate that she was too busy to see him else he would never have been able to face her in shame. Geralt turned back and shut his eyes as soon as he snapped out of his trance. But that did nothing to erase the image imprinted in his mind. Not that he wanted to.

She had pulled herself up slightly, as she tried to reach for the towel on the nearby stool. In the light of the candles, her body glowed golden as water cascaded off every curve of her body… down the side of her neck, her shoulders, two perfect globes that highlighted particularly well in the candlelight, perky nipples that had hardened in the water, the beginning of a lustful waist…

He did not hear her step out of the tub, did not hear the rustle of clothes as she got dressed, no. His mind was replaying the same thing over and over again. There was an evident twitch somewhere down his body. He faintly heard something about dinner and changing the water. The creak of the door pulled him back.

“I shall…” His voice was hoarse. “I shall change the water. You may leave.”

The change in his mannerism surprised her but then both his voice and attitude were gravelly most of the time. With a small “alright”, she exited, leaving him to his thoughts.

Dinner was quiet as Geralt tried to suppress the feelings bubbling inside him. He wanted to look at her and lose himself in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how he felt. Wanted to show her what it meant to unleash months of bridled love that he had been carrying within his entire being. He wanted to…

Gods! There were so many things that he wanted to do. But every time he talked himself into taking one step forward, his reality made him take two steps back.

And so, once again, he retired to bed without telling her anything at all about the whirlwind in his heart.

Geralt woke up sometime in the middle of the night, sensing some movements near him. Once sleep stopped fogging his senses, he realised that it was (Y/N) tossing and turning beside him in her sleep. Not only was she being restless, she was mumbling something incoherent that only got louder with her movements. It hardly took him a couple of seconds to realise that she was having a nightmare!

Geralt tried to wake her up: called her name, shook her. But she was trapped deep in her own head. He thought he heard something like his name but could not be sure. Seeing his efforts go in vain, he took her face in both hands and shouted her name while shaking her once more. He wasn’t sure if it would work but luckily, it did. With wild eyes she stared at him, as if trying to figure out where she was, trying to put up a wall between her horrid imagination and sweet reality. When she finally came around, she threw her arms around Geralt’s neck, causing him to tumble to the mattress with her below. Once again, he fought with himself as a wave of relief washed over him, eventually crashing into a strong desire to keep her encased in his arms and caress her for the remainder of the night.

“I dreamt that you were…” she almost sobbed. “That I had…” She couldn’t bring those bitter words to her tongue.

Geralt understood.

“You will never lose me. I shall always be by your side. I promise.”

In the dark veil of the night, in those weak moments, he made her a promise that even he did not know how he would keep, for she would be married to some royalty some day; she would have to go away, leaving him with his solitude and monsters. He could not keep her to himself nor could he watch her be with somebody else.

But that was a worry for another day. Right then, she was in his arms, and no one else’s. Even if for a moment, she was his. He lay on his side and pulled her to his chest. A hand cradled her head, drawing soothing lines through her hair, until her warm breath on his skin had become stable.

Geralt never seeked help or answers from the gods; he did not believe in them. But as he kissed the crown of her head that night, his lips prayed for her safety and happiness, and if possible, for her to be bound to him for eternity.

He knew he was being selfish. He did not know who heard his prayers or even if there was someone who might hear them. But he whispered them anyway, believing that it was the only way to make his wishes come true.

***

#geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #the witcher #the witcher netflix #henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n

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wandafiction · 3 months

Text

I Got Him - WandaNat

Warnings: fluff, Wanda x Natasha x Reader and 3 month old.

You wake with a groan as you hear the cries echo around the bedroom from the baby monitor, opening your eyes as you grab for your phone to check the time. Closing your eyes when the harsh light of the phone practically blinds you, rubbing at your eyes, like somehow that's going to stop the pain.

"3.08 am. Better than yesterday I guess." Slowly you get out of bed, your feet hitting the soft carpeted floor making you feel even more sleepy. "It's like a cloud." You mumble to yourself not even sure of what you're saying in such a sleepy state.

The continued crying suddenly stops and that's all you need to be fully awake. Your mind switching into overprotective mother and panic mode. He never stops crying that quickly. You jump out of bed grabbing the hoodie that's laid haphazardly on the floor from where you had thrown it down after getting too hot in bed with it on, even though it's stupidly cold this winter.

You hardly notice how cold the wooden floor is on your feet as you hurry down the hallway to the baby's room, panicking more when you see the door open. Running into his room your whole body tenses as you see two figures standing over his cot but not a second later completely relax when you recognise the red and blonde hair of the two figures.

"You're okay little man. Shhh, shhh, shhh. That's it. There is no need for this much noise this early in the morning. Is there?" Nat cradles your baby boy in her arms, gently swaying from side to side as well as bouncing up and down, her voice ever so soothing. "No there's not." She coos as she boops his nose.

"Holy shit." You whisper into the room and both women turn on their heels with slight surprise.

"Detka, what are you doing up?" Wanda makes her way over, checking over her shoulder at Nat who gives you both a small smile, Wanda's arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you against her.

"I heard him crying." Wanda's hand starts to weave through your hair as your body practically melts into hers, both of your hands gripping on her waist for support.

"I thought I turned the monitor off in time. We've got him so let's get you back to bed."

"So that's why he stopped crying.' You sniffle causing Wanda to pull away slightly looking at you with slight worry. "I thought the worst. He never stops crying like that. I thought….I don't even know what I thought…but-but the moment, the moment that he went quiet…I-I-I…."

"Okay, shhh you're okay." Wanda pulls you back into her, her hand scratching at your scalp while the other one rubs up and down your spine. "Let's get you to bed. Nat will get him settled."

All you can do is nod, your body struggling to keep you standing and your mind slowly shutting off due to how exhausted you are. Wanda feels your body fall into hers more so she slowly bends down a little, her hands moving to the back of your knees and lifting you up. Your arms lazily wrap around her neck, her arms sliding up your legs a little so they are wrapped under the top of your thighs and butt. She turns to look back at Nat, not that you are looking with your ace buried in her neck taking in her strawberry scent.

"I got him my love. Let Wanda get you back in bed." Natasha whispers over to you as she continues to gently soothe Max back to sleep.

"I'm taking her to bed princess, will you be in soon?" Wanda's soft voice is not helping you as you try not to fall asleep in her arms but when she slowly starts swaying, knowing how soothing it is for you, your body finally succumbs to the darkness and the last thing you hear is Natasha's voice.

"Of course I will. I love you both."

♤♡◇♧

This time when you wake up it's a lot more pleasant. The feeling of soft lips travelling around your face, from your forehead along your eyebrows, down one side of your face. Then they travel across your cheek to the bridge of your nose before a feather light kiss is pressed onto the tip of your nose causing it to scrunch. The lips then travel across the other cheek down to the hinge of your jaw, along the whole of your jaw to the other side before they finally land on your lips that quirk into a smile.

"Good morning my love." You smile against Natasha's lips as she mumbles against yours.

"Good morning honey." Your eyes shoot open when your brain suddenly registers how quiet it is, and your upper body moves quicker than you can register as you sit up.

"Woah calm down. Max is fine." Natasha's hand is on your chest keeping you in the bed and it's only now you realise she is straddling your lap, your eyes flick up to meet hers and you let out a small breath. "He is okay."

“Where?” You mumble out as Natasha slowly pushes your body back down onto the bed.

“Wanda has him, she is giving him a bottle.” You just nod letting out a long drawn out sigh, your hands rubbing your face up and down trying to find the energy to get out of bed.

“Do you not have work?” Natasha leans down, shaking her head, leaving a small kiss on your furrowed brows as you ask.

“Nope. Me and Wanda finally convinced Tony to let us have some time off and to not contact us until Monday. Guess it's a positive of being his business partners.” You smile at the thought, it has been so long since you have all spent time together since they returned to work and are working extra long hours and weeks to help with payments for everything since you’re on maternity and you don’t work for Mr Tony ‘I have lots of money’ Stark so your pay decreased….dramatically.

“Yay.” You whisper as your eyes flutter closed, but a smile playing on your lips as you hear Natasha giggling at your relaxed state.

“Mhmm. Anyway, I came in here to tell you breakfast is ready and waiting for you.” Natasha plants a few more kisses across your forehead pulling away when you open your eyes to look up at her.

“Lead the way.”

Natasha climbs off of you holding her hand out to help you sit up, smiling as you use her to hoist yourself out of bed and stretching so much you hear a few pops from your joints. Natasha then passes you a new hoodie, now only realising you were in nothing put a shirt and underwear again assuming Wanda took the hoodie off when she got you into bed. You mumble a small thanks slipping the hoodie on, pulling at the strings to make it wrap tightly around your face; Natash giggling at your antics.

“Let's go see the wifey.” You hum with a nod as Natasha grabs ahold of your hand and starts pulling you out of the bedroom and down the hallway towards the kitchen.

You smile to yourself when you hear humming coming from the kitchen, recognizing it as a russian lullaby, your smile only growing more when you lean against the door frame of the kitchen seeing Wanda with Max cradled in one arm. Her chin rests gently on the base of the bottle, keeping it up as your little boy takes small gulps of it, her other hand holding a spatula so she can transfer the pancakes from pan to plate.

You jump slightly when you feel arms wrap around your waist, a head pressing between your shoulder blades. The hands rest on your abdomen over the hoodie for only a second before the venture down to the hem of it and travel under it and your shirt, her hands gently rubbing along your stomach and the skin on skin contact makes you release a content sigh.

“Good morning darling.” You voice raspy from just waking up, feeling Natasha squeeze you gently in reply as Wanda turns to face you with a toothy smile.

“Good morning detka. Good morning princess.” You feel Natasha grumble into your back at the pet name, but you and Wanda both know she secretly likes it and will pout for a whole day if you don’t call her it, at least once.

“They smell delicious.” Your eyes travel to the stack of pancakes as Wanda puts one last one on top and before you can even offer to take it Natasha removes herself from your body and enters the kitchen to help.

“Go sit down my love, we will bring it all in.” You go to say something back to Natasha but she gives you a challenging look and you hold your hands up in fake surrender and do as you’ve been asked.

It takes them no longer than 30 seconds to join you at the table, both taking a seat either side of you Wanda keeping your son in her lap. One arm is around his small body keeping him sat up straight against her while the other uses a fork to stab a pancake and transfer it from the stack to her plate. Before she can even ask you, lean across and start cutting them up for her, not wanting to see her struggle to eat while she holds your son, and it earns you a kiss on the temple from her and a slobbery kiss on the arm from your son.

You manage to get through breakfast without any issues and all three of you are now lounging on the couch while Max is on the floor having some tummy time. All three of you are watching fondly as he babbles baby nonsense to himself as his hands hit the floor a few times and his legs kick out behind him. You all melt at the sight of his gummy smile as he reaches for his small teddy which is just out of reach, using his other arm on the floor trying to push himself forward.

However, in doing so he rolls himself onto his back and the three of you can’t help but smile when his arms and legs move up and down a few times as if that's what's going to get himself flipped back over. The giggle that leaves his mouth makes the three of you laugh and smile brightly until his face suddenly scrunches and starts turning red. The poop face. That is what it is known as to you, and you have learnt that he has different poop faces, and you know just by looking at him that it's going to be that of an atomic stink bomb.

You make a face when you hear the wet fart, his face relaxing into that devilish baby smirk that leads you to believe he knows exactly what he has done. You go to stand up but a hand on your shoulder pulls you back down, looking over to Wanda with confusion written all over your face before turning to see Natasha standing up and picking him up.

"I got him." Natasha says easily as she makes a small face when she checks to see if he has actually pooped, holding him carefully by his armpits as far from her as possible as she slowly starts walking out of the room.

“Why can’t I look after our son today?” You question a slight offence to your voice, that takes Wanda a little by surprise as she brushes some hair out of your face.

“Detka, you are exhausted. You need some you time. You have been looking after him since you gave birth to him 3 months ago, because of mine and Natasha’s schedule, so we decided to take the whole weekend off to give you a break. We have diaper duty, feeding duty, and waking up at 3 am duty. All you have to do is sit there and let us do the hard work for once.”

“I feel bad letting you take care of him and me.” You pout at the thought of being a burden but Wanda is quick to diminish the thought as she pulls your body against hers.

“We love taking care of you detka. We are taking care of him today because you need a selfcare day. That being said, why don’t you go run yourself a bath, enjoy some peace and quiet while me and Natasha keep him entertained.” You nod into her neck mumbling out a small thank you. “No need to thank us, detka, we are in this together.”

“Holy fucking shit. How the fuck does one baby produce so much shit?” You and Wanda laugh as you hear Natasha gagging a little at whatever bomb is in the diaper.

“I am going to go help her out, she will end up putting the diaper on backwards. Go have a bath, we will join you when he goes down for his nap.” She kisses your temple before standing from the couch and quickly making her way to Max's room to help out your wife.

♤♡◇♧

A small knock at the door pulls you from your small half nap, tilting your head to look back at it, a smile growing on your face when you see the two women you love standing in the doorway.

“Can we join?” You simply nod with a smile sitting up slightly so your wives can arrange themselves.

You always loved that Natasha ensured that you had a bath made that would fit all three of you, it was one of her few requests when you guys all decided to live together. Natasha climbs in, in front of you between your legs and pushing herself backwards till her back is flush with your front; pulling your arms around her waist so your arms rest on her toned body. She would never admit that she was the little spoon and the softest of the three of you in the relationship, she had an image to uphold as the scary business partner of Tony Stark.

Once Natasha was settled Wanda climbs in at the opposite end of the bath, facing the both of you as her legs tangle with yours, her hands resting on Nat’s calves that lay next to her. Your chin rests on the top of Natasha’s head as her body slumps down into the water more, both you and Wanda smiling at each other at her relaxed state. Natasha pulls your hands up to her face peppering your knuckles and palms with gentle kisses, a soft smile on your face at her actions as Wanda watches with all the love in the world swirling around her eyes.

“I love you both so much.” You mumble into Natasha’s hair, closing your eyes as you finally allow yourself to completely relax.

“We love you to detka.” Wanda answers for the both of them as Natasha simply hums in agreement nodding her head.

“So how has work been?” You move your head off of Natasha’s to plant a small kiss on her temple, resting your cheek against the side of your face as she moves your hands back down to scratch at her abdomen.

“Busy, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“Tony keeps asking when you are coming to work for him.” Natasha finally opens her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at you as you purse your lips to the side.

“You know I have another year on my contract after I go back. Tell him to ask again then.”

“Why do you stay when you hate it so much?” Wanda tilts her head in question and you let out a small sigh.

“Because I was young and naive when I signed the contract and didn’t look at the small print that mentioned a minimum of 8 years of occupation. One more year and I will be free from Strucker and his silly hydra goons, who know nothing about anything.”

“Tony is holding a seat for you once you do leave.” You hum in acknowledgement not really wanting to speak about work when you are relaxing.

“Okay so how about we go on a date tomorrow?” Wanda changes the subject easily, noticing your hesitancy to talk about anything work related.

“What about max?” Having been around max non-stop for 3 months he is all you can think about when it comes to doing anything.

That includes when you are doing small mundane tasks, your mind is always playing tricks on you by making you hear sounds that could easily be Max crying out for you. You only really manage to eat and take showers later at night once you have put him to bed, meaning you don’t normally get to sleep until 11 or 12 and then you are woken up again at 3 by a hungry screaming baby. You love him to bits, you do, but you are really starting to hate the lack of routine and selfcare you have.

“We can bring him with us. We can go for a walk in the park and stop for coffee, relax on a bench as we people watch.” Wanda suggests and your mind eases at the thought of not leaving Max with some babysitter for a few hours.

“Yeah and then we can come home, put him down for his nap. We could maybe watch a movie, or we could.” Natasha walks her fingers up your arm as she makes the silent suggestion and you raise your eyebrow at the silent insinuation. “It’s been three months. Doctor said three months.”

“It has been three months.” You reply with a smirk, dragging your nails down Natasha’s abs feeling her shiver against you.

“I mean I for one have missed your body detka.” Your eyes dart to look at Wanda who has her bottom lip between her teeth as she eyes you and Natasha up and down. “Me and Natasha have missed you taking control. Telling us how good we are.”

“Is that right my girls?” Your voice is sultry and both of them hum with a nod as they look at you. “Well I guess since you have been good and waited so long you should at least get a reward.”

Before any of you can continue a cry echoes around the hallways of the house and you lean your head back against the edge of the bath a small ‘for fuck sake’ leaving your lips causing the both of them to giggle. You go to haul Natasha off of you but she presses herself against you more and tilts her head at Wanda.

“I cleaned that absolute fucking stick bomb of a diaper, you can deal with the crying. I am haunted by it, I shall never sleep again as the images of it play forever in my mind.” You and Wanda give Natasha a look as she rambles on and on about her poor eyes and nose, but soon she is made to go quiet when Wanda hits her leg and makes a move to stand.

“Why did we ask her to join our relationship again?” You shrug at Wanda’s question, Natasha pouting as her body sinks into the water more now Wanda is out of the tub and isn’t stopping her from sliding down.

“I guess it’s because we both love her.” You make it sound more like a question and the small whine that leaves Natasha’s lips makes you and Wanda giggle.

Wanda leans over the edge of the bath as she holds a towel around herself with one hand, her other tilts Natasha’s chin up so the Russian is looking directly up to the Sokovian. Wanda presses her lips against Natasha’s, who sighs at the action and you press your lips along her bare shoulder. Natasha smiles against Wanda’s lips before the latter pulls away and wraps her towel around herself properly and your lips come to rest at the top of Natasha’s collarbone. Suddenly you are all brought back to why Wanda is out of the bath as the cries get a little stronger and Wanda leans down to press a kiss to your temple.

“I got him.”

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