#{ I am literally living for that lip bite though. }

[katyawriteswhump]

(You’re just) too good to be true 

For @astrangersummer week 3 prompts, flowers and/or hugs. Thanks to bananas and yesdanger on discord for the extra prompts to get me going. I have tried to get as many in as possible. 

Summary: Steve wakes up in hospital after everything is over and can’t quite believe how well everything has turned out…

Rating: T. WC: 1460   CW: None. Other tags: Steddie, platonic stobin, angst, sickfic, hurt/comfort, temporary amnesia, fix-it fic, everybody lives.

…

Steve flutters his eyes open and spies Robin sitting by his bed. Mascara streams down her face, and her hair’s a literal disaster zone.

“Steve! You’re awake!” She grabs his hand. “You’re gonna be okay. The doctor should be here any minute.”

Doctor!?! Where the heck am I?

His throat proves too dry for words. Robin garbles way too fast for him to understand and she’s wringing his fingers ever tighter.

If she’s touching me, I guess it can't be rabies.

His memory triggered, the shitshow slams back. First, the bats, the bites. Then everything that happened after, until they journeyed again into the Upside Down to try to kill Vecna.

Oh hold on, scratch that. 

To fail to kill Vecna.

Staring blankly through Robin, he fixates on the terrible parts. Eddie lying bloodied and dead in Dustin’s arms. Dustin sobbing his eyes out. Max was pretty much lost too, and Vecna was alive, gone to ground, and…

What happened next? Why am I in a hospital bed? Jesus, I was fine! 

There’s one of those IV thingies in his arm. He shivers though can’t tell if he’s cold or hot. The doctor arrives, jostles him, talks at him, shines lights in his eyes. He’s not in pain, but his brain is all woolly, and he’s confused and weak and lost.

He needs a hug more than ever in his life. Robin peeps at him over the doctor’s shoulder, bouncing like a spooked bunny-rabbit, then she’s gone.

It’s all too much.

He quits, sinking back into the darkness.

…

When Steve next pries an eyelid open, he spies Eddie breezing into the hospital room. Eddie joins Robin, who has moved to the window to pick at her nail polish.

Eddie is gone, which means… Oh, no, no, no, no, no! I’m dead too? Or dreaming?

His throat is achy and tight. He closes his eyes again, hot tears welling. More memories trickle back.

“Make him pay,” Eddie had said.

He recalls that last, lingering look between them. The one that slammed him like a freight train, because... Wtf? For some strange reason, that moment doesn’t feel like the end of a story anymore.

It feels like a beginning. Which is just dumb. 

Eddie is no more.

He peeps again, watching a dude who is very definitely Eddie pouring bottled water into a vase of flowers on the windowsill. Robin seizes the bottle from him: “What are you doing, shit-bird? Those are silk—his mom brought them. They don’t need water.”

“Riiiight.” Eddie pulls a silly face, which Steve finds freakish levels of adorable. Suddenly, he wants to crush Eddie to him, tell him that he’s insanely happy he’s here, even if this is some crazy dreamworld, and…

… he wants to shove his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and kiss him stupid.

Huh?

Steve licks dry lips. Most bewildering of all, he somehow knows how awesome kissing Eddie is. As if they’ve done it before.

More than once.

Eddie sneezes dramatically. “If those flowers are fake, I’m allergic to WASP chintz. Which checks out, I guess.”

Robin laughs, though it’s sad and nervy. He catches a glimpse of Eddie’s bambi eyes, and they’re anxious, haunted, too. Then Lucas and Max walk in.

MAX? She’s in a coma!

Steve’s head throbs miserably from trying to make sense of this mad place. 

He quits and drifts back to the darkness.

…

When he next peeps, Robin and Eleven are sitting by his bed, sharing a packet of cool ranch doritos. 

Which makes less sense than ANY OF IT.

Robin’s gotten real picky lately about sharing food. At least, with anybody but him. He’s vaguely pissed, because these two hardly know each other. The way they’re huddled on the same chair, like close buddies, suggests otherwise.

Yeah, he’s vaguely pissed. And kinda jealous. He sort of hates himself for being needy... but he really wants that hug. 

Then another memory flashes back. Some alien desert landscape, with Eleven blasting Vecna with everything she’s got. Eddie sprinting toward him—tailed by what looks like a medium-to-large demogorgon with at least a dozen extra flailing limbs—and Robin yelling, “Steve! El’s got this—help Eddie!”

He finally forces his eyes wide enough for them to see he’s watching. “R-Robin?” he croaks.

“Steve!” She leaps to her feet, nearly knocking El and the chair flying. “You’re really, actually awake this time? Please say yes.”

There’s noise and confusion. The doctor arrives again, checks Steve’s vitals, then bitches that there’s too many kids in the room: “It should be family only,” she says.

“We’re his family,” argues Robin. “His parents only come during official visiting hours.”

Robin is allowed to remain. She helps him sip water, and then he says, “Look, I think was dreaming earlier, or off my head on meds, because I saw you with Eddie, and I know that’s impossible, because…” He swallows hard, mumbles the hateful words: “He's gone, right?”

“Oh my God, you don’t remember?”

“Jesus, Robin! Remember what?”

“We won, Steve. Everyone lived. We even got Crissy back. Vecna’s the only one who’s history. If you hadn’t got hurt, it would’ve been the perfect revenge.”

This time, he manages to take more of her story in. He gets lost in the part where Robin and Dustin figure out time travel—some crazy shit about the proximity of alternate dimensions causing rumples in the space-time continuum. The rest of her tale unleashes a slew of badass memories that squish all the terrible ones into the dirt. Instead of Eddie being dead, he recalls…

“You and Eddie totally slayed this nasty-ass demo-squid-monster,” says Robin. “It got pretty intense, and when you survived, you had, like, an EPIC hug. Aaaand might’ve kissed. Then, later, you threw yourself at Eddie to save him from flying debris, then you rolled into a crater, and he wound up on top, and…”

Steve suddenly recalls that moment vividly. Eddie straddled his hips, and his own hands landed not entirely accidentally on Eddie’s butt. Once they’d gathered their breaths, Eddie leaned forward, swiped hair from his face, and whispered:

“About what you said to Wheeler. If you still want to win her back, that’s fine, I’ll back off, but… just so you know, six kids is cool with me, Stevie. Not like we need to adopt. When you’re around, they simply rock up.”

“So, yeah,” Robin says, ripping Steve from these mind-blowing revelations, “it took us half a dozen attempts to get things right. In the final boss-fight, it was just you, me, Eleven and Eddie. We were lost in the Upside Down for weeks, before we exploded Vecna into a billion disgusting pieces. Because you're you, you were closest, got caught in the blast. You lost a lot of blood, but all important appendages are still present and correct, including, um… any important appendages you were particularly worried about. Not that I’m saying you were, but… Ugh!” She facepalms. “This so isn’t where I meant to go with that.”

He faintly smirks. “You dug that hole, not me, Buckley.”

“No need to gloat. You’re gonna be fine. Everyone is going to be just fine.”

It’s still too much to take in. One question bugs him the most: “Eddie and me, erm… How far did we..?”

“I didn’t stand there and count the bases, Dingus! He’ll be back in five. Ask him. But, you know, there was talk of picking out rings, getting matching tats and—”

“You’re kidding?”

“A bit. Seriously, by the third week, you two seemed chill. Happy. I really hope you remember it all soon.”

He takes a beat. Warmth pools in his chest, because everything Robin says sure as heck feels true. He gives her hand a little pulse, and their fingers intertwine.

“Robin,” he says. “At the risk of sounding downbeat, it’s all a bit too perfect. I’m kinda worried I’m dead.”

“Oh! You’re really, really not. I’m all sticky and gross 'cos I was here all night, but… would a hug help?”

He nods, levers himself up a little, suppressing a wince at the effort. He wraps the arm unencumbered by the IV around her, and she awkwardly cuddles him. He rests his cheek on her bony shoulder, and breathes deeply, while she rubs juddering circles in his back.

She’s sweaty and clumsy and real.

“You’re not dead, I promise,” she whispers. “If you were, I’d be so mad with you, after all that effort to fix things. Besides, you still got hurt, and we were all out of time travel opportunities. Long story. Anyhow, it's been hell, till the doctors said you’d be okay, and even then… We’ve been so scared.”

Her trembling shakes through him. He tries not to sniffle, but he can't seem to help it. Everyone survived. Eddie’s alive. Eddie and he are…

His heart gives a crazy squeeze that says everything he needs to know.

“As soon as you’re out of here,” whispers Robin, “this summer is gonna be the best ever.”

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

#steddie #steve harrington #stobin friendship #platonic stobin #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #a stranger summer #eddie munson lives

[chronosbled]

{ I’m out of control with making these new icons for Dickson... 😳 This new face claim is just too attractive and now it’s even more perfect because he acts perfectly like Dickson would. Not to mention he does the whole “biting his bottom lip” thing that Dickson does when he’s interested in something/someone. Full image of the last three icons is under the cut for a better visual aid on the lip biting. }

#{ Someone needs to stop me. } #{ I am begging y'all. } #{ This guy is just so handsome. } #{ I might even just make him Dickson's main face claim instead of Wave from Akame ga Kill. } #{ He just fits so much better. } #{ Like... I'd still use both but I'll likely use this one more. } #{ I am literally living for that lip bite though. } #{ Have mercy upon me. } #☣ [ ' I'ʅʅ ϝʅყ αɯαყ υɳƚιʅ ι ɾҽαƈԋ α ρʅαƈҽ σϝ ϝσɾɠιʋҽɳҽʂʂ... ιϝ ιƚ ҽʋҽɳ ҽxιʂƚʂ. ' ] - ✡ Eԃιƚʂ ✡ #☣ [ ' Tԋҽ σɳҽ ɯԋσ ʅҽαԃʂ Ⴆҽԋιɳԃ ƈʅσʂҽԃ ԃσσɾʂ. ' ] - ✡ Oυƚ σϝ Cԋαɾαƈƚҽɾ ✡

[eiightysixbaby]

horror movies & chill

word count: 2.6k

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

cw: SMUT - 18+ MINORS DNI. this is literally porn with a smidge of plot, sorry not sorry. mask kink, choking, degradation kink on the low (eddie calls reader slut/whore), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie

The TV screen lights up the dark living room, flashes of different colors streaking across the space. You sit on the couch, blanket draped over your lap as your knee bounces absentmindedly. Your boyfriend had wandered off to get something, and now you sit alone in suspense as the girl on screen figures out there’s a killer in her house. The movie goes eerily quiet, the lone heroine peering around her silent home. You know what’s coming next. You’ve seen enough horror movies to know that when it gets too quiet, a jump scare is right around the corner.

And yet.

You scream in unison with the girl on television, two hands gripping your shoulders from behind just as the fictional killer grabs his target. You spring up off of the couch, the blanket falling to the floor in a heap. You spin around, frantic, your body gone cold for a moment. Wicked laughter erupts in front of you as you get your bearings, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

“God dammit, Eddie!” you shout, hand over your heart as you attempt to steady your breathing. “You absolute asshole!”

Eddie’s doubled over behind the couch, a cheap Halloween store Ghostface mask covering his head. He’s still laughing, trying to get words out and failing.

“Baby…” he says, and you can hear the smirk in his voice even though he’s trying to be serious. What a dick. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think I’d get you that good,” he says, walking towards you.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you reply, but nevertheless you let him grab your arms, rubbing soothing patterns on the skin.

“I know. I am, baby, you’re right. That was mean,” he agrees, nodding his head beneath the black and white mask. You know he'd be giving you puppy-dog eyes if you could see him.

You can’t help but laugh, the initial panic leaving your body. You must’ve looked petrified, and you’re a little mad he scared you so badly.

“You’ll have to make it up to me,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie’s head cocks to one side, sympathetic, playing it up for you. “Of course, sweetheart. And how do I do that?” he asks, stepping slightly closer to you.

He wants a genuine answer, but you find your breath hitching in your throat. Maybe it’s the way his fingers rub circles into your lower back. Maybe it’s the heat radiating from his body onto yours. Maybe it’s the sound of his labored breathing beneath that sweaty mask that's getting to you. You press your thighs together, suddenly feeling too hot for such a cold October day.

And Eddie can see, through the mesh eye cutouts, the way you bite your lip just slightly. He can see the way your lips part but no words come out, the way you tilt your hips closer to his. And he definitely feels the way your fingers hook into the belt-loops on his jeans, drawing him in.

“Oh my god. Are you into this right now?” he asks, voice dripping with his smug attitude. He’s grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat, if only you could see it.

You don’t answer right away, shifting on your feet. You look down, not sure if you have the gumption to tell your boyfriend the god damn Ghostface mask is turning you on right now. You were scared shitless mere minutes ago. But the way your heart pounds now is completely different to the way it had before.

“Shut up….” you mumble, your face growing incredibly warm.

“You are so fucking into this right now,” he says, laughing as he gets the last word out.

“Okay, if you’re gonna make fun-” you start, drawing your body away. Eddie doesn’t let you finish.

“Waitwaitwait,” he interrupts, pulling you back to him. “I just didn’t expect it, is all,” he reassures, his voice sounding muffled beneath the rubbery material.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, eagerly anticipating his next move. You can't quite bring yourself to act first.

He brings your body flush against his, two fingers gliding up one of your arms, sending chills down your spine. He leans his face close to your ear, his breathing audible. “I won’t judge if you like the mask, baby,” he purrs, his voice deeper now.

His other hand wraps around your waist, palm pressing into your lower back, pushing your crotch against his. You gasp, goosebumps perking up along your arms. Screams erupt from the movie, the final girl running free from her potential killer. It’s comedic, really, how you’re stood here ready to jump the killer’s bones.

Eddie’s hips roll, just slightly, but enough for you to feel the tent in his pants. You let out a shaky breath, your body seeking him out, wanting him to give you more of that friction.

“What is it, babe?” he taunts. “You want me?”

“Eddie…” is all you get out, a breathy little thing, your hands pressed to his chest.

And then he’s pressing you against the wall, hiking one of your legs around his waist, his crotch pressing against your needy core. One big hand comes to wrap around your throat, cold rings soothing the flames that lap at your skin. He squeezes, making you delightfully hazy, pinning you hard against the wall with his body.

“This what you want, baby? Want me to fucking ruin you?” he asks, voice akin to a growl, squeezing your throat yet again.

“P-please,” you mewl, desperate for more. You know you’re soaking through your panties, practically aching for him.

Something about not being able to see him drives you crazy. Relying on just his voice, trying to gauge his tone. You’re writhing beneath him, grinding yourself against him. He’s so hard it has to be painful, you can feel it even through the layer of denim covering his bottom half.

“Oh, she’s so desperate, huh? Pussy needs me, baby? God damn…” he rasps, and you throb for him.

His fingers dig into the meat of your thigh where he holds it, giving it a sharp squeeze. His other hand removes itself from your neck, tugging down the zipper on his jeans. You undo the button for him, just as eager to get his pants down as he is. His cock stands at attention beneath the fabric of his boxers, begging to be touched. He ignores it for the meantime, though, releasing his hold on your leg and letting you drop it. He makes quick work of sliding your leggings and panties down, fingers collecting the honey that drips from you.

Groaning, he brings his fingers to your mouth, prompting you to suck them. You oblige, mouth opening and enveloping his digits. Your tongue swipes over them, tasting yourself and coating them with saliva. And then they’re pulled from your lips, teasing your clit before slipping into your cunt. Your leg wraps around his waist once more, allowing for a better angle. He scissors those two fingers inside of you, his breathing heavy, sounding almost amplified from beneath the mask. Your hips buck forward, forcing his fingers deeper. One hand grips your side, pinning you back against the wall.

“Don’t be fuckin’ greedy, slut,” Eddie barks, words sending sparks right through you.

His fingers curl in a ‘come here’ motion, your body feeling boneless as you try to keep yourself upright. He laughs, a devious thing, clearly satisfied with how pliant you are for him. You can tell how wet you are from the slick sounds coming from every glide of his fingers, your body so desperately craving more of him. He adds a third finger, prying you open even farther with complete ease, grunting as he feels the way you tense around him.

“Eddie,” you gasp, “f-feels so good.”

“I know it does, baby, I know,” he coos, smirking to himself at the way your body writhes beyond your control. “Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, hm?”

“Yeah, oh god,” you cry, head tipping back as you moan to the ceiling, his fingers pressing so deep inside of you.

He moans despite himself, your cunt completely drenching his fingers. His cock twitches in his boxers, leaks and pleads for you. You’re a little blurry through the eyes of Ghostface, but he can still make out the way your face contorts in pleasure. He loves making you feel like this, loves having you in the palm of his hand.

“My filthy girl, so fuckin’ wet for me all because I put this mask on, is that it? Really gets you going, huh baby?”

He wanted you to like the mask, if he’s honest, and the fact that it’s working on you is driving him up a fucking wall. He needs to be inside of you, needs to fuck you hard and pump you full of his cum before he loses it.

Three fingers slide out of you, squelching slightly as you suddenly clench around nothing. He yanks his boxers down, merely a hindrance to him, his thick cock springing free. You whimper at the sight of it, chewing on your lip as you watch him wrap his hand around the shaft. He pumps himself a few times, lets his pre-cum drip over his fingers, and it makes you ache. You feel like your body is on fire, you need him so bad, white-hot flames licking up your thighs.

A few more pumps and then he’s releasing himself, hoisting you up so both of your legs tangle around him. He grips the meat of your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh the best he can. He lines his cock up just right, your cunt glistening with your arousal. And you want to kiss him so bad, you want to feel your tongue against his and you want him to bite you, to suck bruises into your neck. The fact that you can’t almost makes you crazier, spurring you on more. You can only imagine what his face looks like as he sheathes himself inside of you, can only imagine those perfect parted lips as he sighs blissfully.

His cock pushes through your slick folds until you can feel his balls pressed against you, his thick length fully seated inside of you. It’s such an enticing stretch to fit him, your whole body vibrating with desire. He rocks himself in and out, in and out, letting you get used to his size. Your cunt has already soaked him in your cream, you can see it pooling where his body meets yours.

“Fuuuuuuck baby,” Eddie groans, panting beneath the warmth of the mask. “Such a needy whore for me, god damn. So fucking wet.”

You whine, canting your hips upwards ever so slightly, the tip of Eddie’s cock pressing so deep inside.

“She’s fuckin’ soaking me, angel. This pussy loves me, doesn’t she?” he says, thrusting into you harder now. He sets a quicker pace, holding your weight against the wall with complete ease.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you moan, waves of euphoria rippling through every inch of your body. He’s so deep and so big and so good.

Your nails dig into the skin of his back, clawing at him through his t-shirt as he fucks you like it’s his last opportunity. You can hear grunts and strained whines falling from his lips, breath coming out in spurts from exertion.

“Babe, fuck, can I take this thing off? Need my mouth on you baby,” he pants, hips snapping against yours and making you cry out.

“Yes, yes - fuck Eddie!” you moan, nearly screaming his name.

The mask is whipped off in one swift motion, Eddie’s unruly curls sticking out. His eyes are wild, pupils blown with sheer need, those perfect lips of his so pink and plump. His mouth is on you in an instant, kissing your lips, your jaw, his teeth biting at your neck. He sucks on the delicate skin, unforgiving as you hiss at the sensation. His warm tongue laves over the irritated area, soothing you and sending a shiver down your spine. You roll your hips, needing more from him, needing him in impossible ways.

“Fucking Christ, you’re so desperate for me,” he gets out through heavy breaths, his cock impaling you over and over. His cocky demeanor doesn’t waver, hands squeezing your ass, smirking when you whine at him.

Filthy noises fill the living room, wet smacks as your dripping pussy sucks Eddie back in for more more more. He glances down to where your bodies join, his dick shiny with your juices. Eyelashes flutter as he looks back up at you, pulling your face to his to kiss you harder. His greedy tongue roams your mouth, his lips demanding in the way they move with yours.

Eddie can tell you’re getting close by the way your eyes roll back into your skull, the way your pussy keeps squeezing him so tight. Your brows knit together as you focus on how good he feels, eyes pinching shut.

“Nuh-uh. Look at me, sweet girl,” Eddie instructs, fucking you faster. “Look at me when I’m making you feel so good.”

Your eyes open, big and glassy as they plead with him. You’re so ready to snap, your body overwhelmed with pleasure as Eddie abuses your cunt. Your fingers tangle in his hair - something you’d missed while he’d had the mask on - and tug, drawing a throaty groan from him. His balls are slapping against the skin of your ass with each rough thrust, fingers digging so hard into flesh you’re sure you’ll be sore tomorrow.

Those big brown eyes of his are incredibly dark, his lips parted as he watches you slowly unravel right before his eyes. You feel yourself about to tip over the edge, about to let go, and he can see it on your face.

“Gonna cum for me, dirty girl? Little slut’s gonna cum all over my fucking cock?” he taunts you, every single word sending bolts of electricity right to your core.

“Gonna cum so fucking hard, Eddie, oh my god,” you say breathlessly, eyes fluttering to a close as you reach your peak.

You’re delirious as you cum, your walls squeezing Eddie so fucking tight. Strings of curse words are falling from his lips as he chases his own release, drawing it closer and closer as you completely soak him. Movements get sloppy, not aided by the slippery mess you’ve created, and Eddie’s breaths grow staggered.

His cock pounds into you one, two, three more times before his hips stutter, hot ropes of cum filling you. You can just barely feel the way he twitches inside of you, every last drop of his release pouring out. Both of you settle finally, catching your breath as you come down from your highs. Eddie sets you down, your feet hitting the ground once more. Your legs feel like rubber, like you might crumple to the floor if it weren’t for the fact that he’s holding your waist and pulling you in to him.

You look down at the floor, the crumpled mask staring up at you, mouth gaping in a perpetual scream. You’re dizzy with realization of what's just happened.

“You’re fucking unreal,” he says finally, tilting your chin up so your eyes will meet his. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know…” you admit, cheeks growing hot. “Something about that damn mask,” you smirk at him, getting a waggle of his eyebrows in response.

“I can go to the store right now and get more… who do you want next? Michael Myers? Jason?” Eddie jokes, smiling when you scoff at him.

“Just make sure to keep the Ghostface one around, okay?” your shy request has him grinning, his tongue running over his teeth.

“Oh, you’ll be seeing more of him for sure.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #ghostface!eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #divider by @cafekitsune

[jishyucks]

⋆.˚ on a whim — ldh ˚.⋆

‣ pairing: haechan x reader

‣ genre: friends-to-lovers?, fluff

‣ wc: 1.06k

‣ summary: ❝What if… what if I kissed you?❞; alternatively, you impulsively suggest to be your best friend's first kiss

‣ warnings: I wouldn't say it's steamy at the end but it's like,,, sorta detailed

‣ an: this is bc hyuck in glasses makes me want to do backflips (this is literally self-indulgent)

“I’m almost done with this assignment and then after we can watch a movie, sound good to you?” 

You scribbled down a few words, waiting for Donghyuck to respond to your question, but you were returned with a half-assed hum. This catches your attention, mainly because it wasn’t like Donghyuck to be disinterested in a movie. He said once that movie nights were his favourite nights. 

“Hyuck?” you shift your attention from your work to your best friend, brows knitting together. 

Donghyuck’s lying on your bed, eyes looking straight up to the ceiling with an empty expression. You don’t even think he’s blinking. 

“Hyuck.” Your voice is firm, trying to catch his attention. You can’t even see him blinking through his glasses, lips falling into a pout.

“Lee Donghyuck!” 

You finally catch his attention, though all he does is turn his head in your direction, “Yeah? Sorry… I zoned out.” He sits up on your bed, crossing his legs underneath him. 

“I was saying how I’ll just finish this assignment and then we can go on with movie night,” you repeat, “Are you okay? Still up for it?” Your head tilts to the side and Donghyuck has to look away before you cause his heart to arrest. 

“Of course I am, I just…” He bites his bottom lip and blinks at the wheels of your chair.

“Is this about what my friends said earlier?” You frown. In all honesty, you didn’t even want to talk about it because you know your anger issues are going to take over. When Donghyuck fails to give you a reply, you follow the question up, “It is, isn’t it?”

“My feelings are valid,” he retorts stiffly, falling back onto his back, “I know I’m pathetic for not even getting my first fucking kiss at this age but—”

“You’re not pathetic, Hyuck,” you interrupt, angry at how he was putting himself down for something so ridiculous, “Don’t say that. Everyone lives life at their own pace.” You throw a soft punch at his knee and he yelps despite it not hurting. 

“I know, you’ve told me that before, but when it’s pointed out, I see why it’s stupid,” he goes on, “Like not one person has brought themselves to want to kiss me? How pathetic is that?”

Trains of thought begin running through your head and you let the question hang in the air for too long. Far too long that this makes Donghyuck nervous, “You could at least say that it is pathetic instead of not saying any–”

“What if… what if I kissed you?” 

Donghyuck shoots up, “What?”

“What if I kissed you.” You say more confidently, “Then you could say that you kissed someone.”

Donghyuck’s chewing on his lip now, unsure whether or not this would be a good idea, “You’d do that?... Would that even count?” 

“I’ll count it if you do…” You say, “Besides, if you’re okay with it, and I’m okay with it, it counts.” Your legs scooches your chair closer to Donghyuck, almost as if anticipating his answer. 

If Donghyuck was being honest, he liked the idea. It’s not like he’s been waiting for this for the longest time, no… he just thought it was a good idea. And it was you he was going to kiss for god’s sake. He trusted you, he cared about you, he wouldn’t mind if his first kiss was you. Hell, he wanted his first kiss to be you, “Okay.”

You scoot closer so that your knees touch his, “Go whenever you’re ready.”

“O-okay,” Donghyuck’s taken aback by how straight forward you’re being. He nods once and shifts forward in place, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours, “Okay, I’ll do it now.” 

You can feel his warm breath on your face and it somehow sends you shivers down your neck. The proximity between the two of you is small. It felt like he was doing it on purpose to tease you and you were tempted to be the one who closed the gap between the two of you. 

Donghyuck comes closer and you’re ready to close your eyes, but then he pulls away, “Shit, s-sorry.” He apologizes, “I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?” A frown grows on his lips, worried that he was actually making it awkward between the two of you, just because of a kiss, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You nod, “I’m the one who suggested it, Hyuck.” 

He huffs and nods again. He starts closing in on you. His hands instinctively reach up to grab your face, and at that point you know he’s going to commit to it. Just like earlier, you feel his breath tickle your lips, and before you know it, Donghyuck’s plush lips are pressed up against yours. 

Donghyuck holds back a gasp, holding his lips to yours. For a moment, he’s afraid he’s doing it wrong, unsure whether or not he’s moving his lips correctly, but the second you begin kissing back, hands finding the back of his neck in hopes of finding something to hold onto, a sense of relief washes over him. 

He pulls away to breathe before pushing his mouth back onto yours. The kiss was deep, that was for sure, something he didn’t expect to happen. When you suggested a kiss, he thought you meant something along the lines of a ‘one-two’ and done, not this. But he didn’t mind it. And it seemed like you didn’t either.

In fact, he likes the feeling. There’s a warm feeling growing in his chest the longer the kiss lasts and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

So this was why people did it so often. It felt good.

Donghyuck’s arms slither around your figure, bringing his hands to your back. Then he pulls you closer. And again, you don’t mind. 

And just as he feels your tongue tapping gently on his lips to let him in, Donghyuck feels something sharp scratch the bridge of his nose and it doesn’t take him long to realize that his glasses were getting in the way of everything. 

He pulls back, groaning, out of breath before he rips them off of his face—because, no, he doesn’t care if he can’t see your face. All he wants to do is kiss you. 

“Fuck it,” he mutters before he smashes his lips back onto yours. 

#haechan #haechan imagines #haechan scenarios #lee donghyuck #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #my nct writings #my writings #nct imagines #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct donghyuck #nct haechan #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck scenarios #Kpop imagines #Kpop scenarios #Donghyuck #Lee haechan #Nct 127 imagines #haechan x reader #haechan x reader fluff

[l0ngschl0ngking]

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

[equalheart]

enhypen using cheesy pick-up lines on you

comedic fluff! enhypen!member x reader, © equalheart REPOST FROM HYKAI

jungwon ( 정원 )

“Y/n, come here.” Jungwon approaches you, who’s sitting on the couch watching tv. Hs sits down beside you and leans into your ear to whisper something, which you don’t pull away from. “Are you a camera man- er, person? because you make me smile.” he grins and you fake gag, lightly kicking him. “That was horrible! where did you even hear that??” He sighs, now grabbing your hand while seated next to you. “It may have been horrible, but it’s true.”

heeseung ( 이희승 )

You’re just chilling on the couch with your phone and you hear someone clearing their throat behind you. You turn around to see Heeseung standing behind you. “Hey, my name is microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” and the second he winks at you you lose it. Laughter fills the air and Heeseung reaches to hug you even though your still on the couch which he is behind. “Was it that bad?” he giggles. “Yeah, actually. It was. You’re such a nerd.”

jay ( 제이 )

Jay is not the type to randomly throw weird pick-up lines at you. He mainly just loves calling you petnames. which is exactly why when on a random tuesday afternoon, he goes “Life without you is like a broken pencil.. pointless.” it took you aback. of course, it was stupid sweet, but what could you even say to the poor guy? ‘yeah, you too’?? “That sucked, but also I feel the same about you, baby.” his hands glide against your waist, pulling you in from behind as you turn around to grab his face, placing a kiss on his jaw. “That’s energizing to know.” he smiles softly.

jake ( 제이크 )

“Yo, Y/n.” You look back to Jake, letting his presence take your attention. “Areyou a parking ticket? because you’ve gone fine written all over you.” He raises one eyebrow and you cringe. You get up and walk up to him, making him bite his lip—until you slap him lightly on the cheek. “Get a life.” You turn to walk away but he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’m your loser.” He says, a flirting tint to his voice.

sunghoon ( 성훈 )

You were sitting on Sunghoon’s lap, facing the tv while watching your show. His arms were wrapped around your waist, making you feel butterflies—and those did not go away when he went in to whisper in your ear. “Y/n-ah. are you a charger?” you turn your head at his question. “Do I look like a charger to you?” you raise an eyebrow and he giggles. “No, I just can’t live without you.” he smiles, showing off his fangs. You don’t even realize it, but the sight makes you blush. “Does that mean you’re a phone?” he looks at you, cuddling into you more. “If that’s what it takes for you to love me? Then yeah, I am. i’m your phone.” — “Okay, now you just sound stupid.”

sunoo ( 선우 )

“I need to tell you something suuuuuper important.” says Sunoo, while you squish his face in one hand, sitting in his lap. You hum, and he continues. “If you were a chicken,” the first part of his statement confuses you, but you let him continue when he pecks your lips. “You’d be impeccable.” he grins, awaiting your response while you squish his face once again, this time, more aggressively (in a way). “That was.. horrible. never open your mouth again.” you land another kiss to his lips, laughing to yourself.

ni-ki ( 니키 )

Riki pushes his hair out of his face, blurting some nonsense (which isn’t uncommon) as he does so. “Man, you got a hold on me.” you look over at his figure. You’re just playing smash bro’s together, what got him distracted? “What are you talking about?” you say with a slight chuckle to your voice. “I’d literally fall for you in zero gravity,” You cringe. Hard. “Ew, since when did you get so cheesy?” you both giggle, multitasking while you both aim for the smash orb. “I’m only like that for you.”

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni ki x reader #riki x reader #enhypen fluff

[straykeedz]

Can you do a Bangchan x reader smut/fluff? Also, keep up the great work!

𝒾'𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 🥺 𝒽𝑜𝓅𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 @linosssss ♡

𝐭𝐰: 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲 ; 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠) ; 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐯 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!) ; 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞 ;

𝐰𝐜: 3,7𝐤

-> 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝/𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.

🏡

The house is full of boxes. 

Not just the house. Your house. The house you and Chan have just moved into. Literally just - considering you carried the last carton box inside your new apartment half an hour ago with the help of Chan’ friends. Your house - your dream has finally become true, and from now on you and Chan will be living together. Crazy.

Your eyes take in the small, yet welcoming living room, and a big smile spreads on your face. You can’t wait for the furniture to be here - which should be tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan. However right now, as you’re sitting on the hard, cold floor with your back leaning against the wall with Chan by your side and an empty carton of pizza on his legs, you can’t bring yourself to complain about not having a couch to lie down on. Or a table. Or a bed frame. You have everything you need by your side anyway - him. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ of, love?” Chan’ voice interrupts your thoughts. 

You turn to look at him, and find him already smiling at you - cute dimples and everything. How is it even possible, to be so in love with a person? 

“Just how much I love you,” you shrug, turning your face to look at him. “And how happy I am that we’re here, in our house,” you can’t help but smile widely at him. “It feels weird to say, our house,” you giggle.

“Good weird, I hope,” Chan teases, leaning in to brush your nose with his. He knows you’re as excited and happy as he is, you’ve both been dreaming it for a long time and now that it’s finally true you almost can’t believe it, it’s a happiness neither of you ever felt before. 

With you being busy with college and Chan always being snowed under work, there was never a good time to move in together - not to mention that neither of you made enough money to afford living alone. So you would live with your roommates and split rent, and he’d do the same, and you’d only see each other during the weekends - needless to say, the intimacy was pretty much nonexistent. But now everything’s different, and from now on you’ll have a whole place by yourself and you’ll be free to do whatever you want, so yeah, it’s definitely a “good” weird. 

“Of course it’s a good weird!”, you peck his lips, still a bit salty from the pizza he ate. “Gosh, I’m so happy…” you repeat for the millionth time today. 

“I am, too, love,” he bites his lip. “Like, we finally have our own place, it’s crazy!”, he places a kiss on your naked shoulder. 

It’s spring, your anniversary is approaching. This year will be your fourth. 

Four years sound like a big deal. Part of you is scared of what adult life holds for you: responsibilities, bills to pay, changes to face, ageing - another part of you, though, can’t wait to face it all with Chan by your side, the man you want to be with for the rest of your life. It sounds crazy, to think you’ve found the love of your life at such a young age, but you also know it’s one hundred percent the truth. He’s incredible, everything you ever wished for in a partner and so much more: smart, kind, in touch with his emotion in a healthy way, mature, and last but not least - he’s fucking great in bed. Like - fucking great. He’s a dream.

Now that you’re thinking about it, having a whole place by yourselves also means that you’ll finally be able to have sex whenever you want without worrying about your or his roommates catching you or interrupting you while you’re at it - like that time his dear friend Jisung bursted inside Chan’ bedroom while he was giving it to you from behind real good. And from now on you won’t have to worry about keeping quiet anymore, nor to lock your bedroom door. You could have sex in the kitchen in broad daylight if you wanted to. 

“Mh-hm, we have our own place, which means…”, you take the pizza box from his lap and place it on the floor. Then, you straddle him, and his arms immediately find their way around your waist,  pulling you even closer so that you’re now sitting on his crotch. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”, he whispers on your lips, drawing imaginary shapes over your clothes with his thumbs. Under your body, you can feel his cock beginning to stir inside his sweats. 

“That depends…” you place the palms of your hands on his chest, then latch your mouth on the skin of his neck. He sucks in a breath, and you feel his Adam apple bobble. By now, his cock is fully hard in his underwear, pressing right on your clothed cunt, creating the perfect friction against your clit, and he grips your hips, keeping you in place. “If you’re thinking of your naked body on top of mine… then yes,” you breathe out, slowly grinding on the bulge in his sweats as you continue to suck on his neck. 

“Oh, I’m totally thinking of you, naked, under me…” Chan breathes heavily, one of his hands moving from your hips to grope one of your boobs. He squeezes his eyes shut, when you let your hand roam down his body - down, down, down, until it reaches the tent in his sweats. He sucks in a breath when you palm him over the fabric, and he squeezes your ass. “You- shit,” he curses under his breath when you grind on his erection, “you want that?”

You keep leaving kiss on his neck, running your tongue all over his soft skin, leaving open mouthed kisses as your hand is pressed against his chest. “You’re seriously asking if I want to have sex with you after I’ve been grinding on your dick for the past five minutes?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him and he chuckles, pulling you closer, and it’s his turn now to latch his mouth to your neck, and you gasp.

“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page,” he breathes against your skin, then pulls you even closer, and you both moan at the friction his action causes. 

“Oh, we so are,” you kick your head slightly back when he sucks on that sensitive spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. His other hand, in the mean time, finds its way on one of your breasts. He chuckles when you let out a squeak. 

“Our first night in our home…” Chan mumbles while still leaving kisses on your neck, and you arch your back. “We should really do something about it, shouldn’t we?” 

“Mh-hm,” you hum in agreement, “You know what else you should do something about?” you wrap your fingers around his wrist. 

“What?” he places a kiss on your clavicle, right below the crook of you neck as he breathes in your familiar scent. 

You drag his hand all over your body, then allow his fingers to slip under the waistband of your sweats and your underwear, brushing your mound. He smiles and bites his lip as his fingers move to brush your entrance, but sucks in a breath once he feels how wet you are - panties completely soaked. “This.”

“Fucking hell,” he swears under his breath. “You’re so wet. How are you so wet? Fuck,” his eyes flutter shut as his fingers, damp with your arousal, circle your clit. You moan in response and let go of his wrist - he knows what to do. “You drive me fucking crazy, fuck. Sitting on my cock, acting all cute and stuff while you’re soaking your panties,” he mumbles, more to himself actually. 

Chan is good with his fingers. 

The first time he fingered you, you ended up cumming all over his digits only a couple of minutes later - and he hadn’t even touched your clit. He’s the one who introduced you to the wonders of the orgasm from penetration, making you cum and literally see stars just from rubbing your g-spot for seconds - which your ex never ever found in the first place, then around his dick. 

“Don’t make fun of me!” you pout, but are immediately cut off by two of Chan’ digits entering you, and you gasp at the feeling of his fingers filling you up. “Oh.”

“What’s that, hm? Cat got your tongue?” Chan teases you as he gives a slow pump of his fingers inside of you, hissing at the way your arousal coats them completely. He likes to act all cocky and stuff, but the both of you know that, the second he’s inside you, he’ll lose his mind. 

“Ass-“ you’re cut off by his fingers lifting your tank top, revealing your chest. Asshole,” you chuckle. “You know the effect your fingers have on me.”

“Just my fingers?”, he chuckles, before his lips close around one of your nipples. “What about my cock?”

He presses the pad of his thumb on your clit. You whimper, shaking your head. “All of you. All of you drives me crazy - the way you kiss me, the way you touch me, the way your eyes stare into mine when you make love to me- fuck.”

You hiss the last word when Chan bites your exposed shoulder and grunts. He keeps moving his fingers inside of you, at a much quicker pace, determined to make you cum, and it’s working, because you’re already so close. The pad of his thumb is brushing your clit with every slight movement of his fingers inside of you, and he smirks when he hears you let out a shaky breath - he knows your body well, maybe even better than you do. 

“Chan, I-“ you pant against his skin, one hand desperately gripping his tank top as your legs start to shake. 

“I know, love. You can let go, I’m right here,” he whispers in your ear, “I’m gonna take care of you.” 

Not just now, he’s always gonna take care of you. 

You release around his fingers with a muffled sob, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as a couple of swear words leave your mouth. Your orgasm washes all over you and Chan helps you ride it out, stopping the movements of his fingers inside of you only when he knows you can’t take it anymore - meanwhile, he presses soft kisses on your bare shoulder as you come down your high. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks you after he’s made sure your heartbeat has finally slowed down to a much more regular pace. You hum a faint “yes”, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of you, wet with your sweet release. 

He puts them near his mouth and you know what he’s about to do. He wraps his plump lips around his own fingers and swirls his tongue all over his digits, determined to lick them clean. He hums as soon as his tastebuds recognize your taste. “Always taste so sweet, love. Here,” he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and taps your lips with his pads. 

His digit taste of your release and Chan’s saliva mixed up. You hum too, and he watches you closely with full-blown pupils and parted lips how you suck on his fingers, which were previously in his mouth and, before that, deep inside your pussy. Chan loves it when you’re filthy, but tonight he’s in a whole other mood - it’s your first day in your new home after all, he wants it to be special.

It’s gonna be nothing but sweet lovemaking tonight.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” Chan asks you, sucking a bright pink mark on the sensitive skin of your clavicle.

To call it a bedroom would be a euphemism, considering there’s just your mattress inside the room, together with three of four boxes. Just your mattress. Placed on the ground, in the center of the empty room. The furniture is being delivered tomorrow, so tonight you’ll be sleeping like this, although your sixth sense is telling you that perhaps you won’t be sleeping at all tonight. The mattress looks funny with the sheets messily wedged in under it, but neither you nor Chan seem to care about the sheets right now, not with how eager the both of you are. 

Lying on a mattress that’s lying on the floor isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but it’ll work for tonight. Chan’s hands are immediately all over you, his lips on yours within seconds as soon as you both lie down on the bed, lips on your neck as his body is pressed on top of yours, your legs wrapped around his as his hard-on brushes your clothed cunt. 

“Chan…” you whine, the friction between your legs becoming unbearable - you need to feel him without any layer between your bodies. “Take these off,” you huff, tugging at his sweats. 

He kneels between your legs, and you quickly sit on the mattress to take off your tank top. Chan gasps at the sight of your naked boobs, even though he’s seen them many, many times. His tank top comes off, then his sweats and boxers are next. The second your gaze falls on his hard cock, all you want to do is wrap your lips around its tip, then take the rest of his length in your mouth and milk him dry - his balls look so full, and you want nothing more than to taste him. That may be a lie, though, because you also want him to cum inside of you… you just can’t chose with him. 

“Take off yours now, love? Show me that pretty pussy?”

You slide your own sweats down the curve of your ass too, together with your damp underwear, and Chan bites his lips at the sight of the wet patch on your panties, even though it shouldn’t surprise him, since he was the one who made you cum before. 

“How do you want me?” You whisper to him, and he swears he felt a shiver run down his spine - you’re just so hot, and he loves you so much. 

“Just like this, fuck, you’re so hot,“ Chan grunts as his eyes take in your naked figure sprawled in front of him, legs open wide to welcome his body between them. “Want to look at your pretty face when I make love to you, want to see your eyes roll in the back of your head when I stick my cock in you,” he grunts. 

It’s true, you do it every time - it’s hard not to, when the cock’s this good. 

“What are you waiting for, then? Put it in,” you smirk, biting your lip. 

Chan pumps his cock with his fist for a couple of seconds, smearing pre-cum all over his tip to make sure it doesn’t sting when he enters you, although you’re wet enough to take him. His veiny hand looks insanely good wrapped around himself, pumping his length with a familiarity and a confidence only he can have with his body. You don’t miss the way his balls tighten, looking heavy and full, and you’re ready to take all he has to give you. You want him to empty his load inside of you - mouth or pussy, you don’t really care. His cock looks harder than before, tip pink and angry, the vein that runs along the underside thick and pulsating. 

You gasp when he gets closer and aligns his cockhead at your entrance, brushing your swollen clit in the process. “You ready?” He asks you, and after you nod, he pushes inside. 

Just like he predicted, you roll your eyes in the back of your skill at the feeling of his cock finally stretching you out. He sinks inside of you at an incredibly slow pace that makes you shiver and gasp. “Fuck,” you moan. He intertwines his fingers with yours as he continues pushing inside. It feels big, hot and hard inside of you. “’s big,” you whine out of pleasure. 

Chan’s cock throbs inside of you as he pushes another inch inside. “Yeah?” Then chuckles when you nod. “You’re taking it so well, tho, love. Just a couple inches left, you’re doing so good,” he whimpers. 

When he finally bottoms out, you feel so full it almost hurts - every single one of the inches of his beautiful cock sheathed inside of you. Chan lets his body fall on top of yours, pressing his bare torso on your chest and placing his strong hands at each side of your head while he balances his weight on his elbows. “You alright?” He asks, kissing you on the corner of your lips. 

“Feel so full,” you gasp, and he smirks, pecking your lips. 

“Does it feel good?” He asks you, brushing your soft hair with his fingers. “Because you feel amazing around me, love,” he whispers, kissing your cheek softly. 

“So good, baby. So, so good,” you whimper, “You can move now.”

You don’t know how he does that, but Chan always manages to find the perfect angle when it comes to thrusting inside of you. He starts by pulling almost all the way out, arching his back a little and then sinking back inside of you. It’s his turn to roll his eyes in the back of his head now, when he feels your tight walls welcoming him, pulsating around his thick length. It’s a slow thrust - the first one. A thrust that allows him to test the waters, a thrust that makes the both of you shiver. 

You arch your back and pelvis, allowing him to sink even deeper inside of you. 

“My God, love, you feel so good around me,” Chan grunts, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, then repeats his previous movements with his hips once again. “So warm, so tight…”

His hips meet yours once more, and a shaky breath leaves your lips - the way he’s moving inside of you combined with the hot, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the skin of your neck are making you feel dizzy already. You wrap your arms around Chan’s torso, scratching his naked back with your fingernails - you hear him whimper and you bite your lips at his reaction, because you know just what to do to drive him crazy. 

“Wrap your legs around me, love,” Chan moans and you oblige, entangling your legs with his, pulling him closer than he already is until it feels like you’re melting at each other’s touch. 

His thrusts are slow, not rushed, reaching that deep spot inside of you that makes your toes curl and scratch his back a bit harder. His kisses burn on your skin, his swollen lips feel hot when he presses them on yours to muffle the sounds that escape his own lips - it’s the force of habit. For years the both of you had had to keep quiet in bed in order not to get caught by Chan’s or your roommates - now, though, you can be as loud and whiny as you want. That’s why you pull away from the kiss, then cup his face with your hands. He doesn’t stop moving inside of you. 

���I want to hear those pretty sounds you make,” you whisper on his lips. 

Chan is whiny. The softest whimpers fall from his lips as he moves inside of you, rocking his hips back and forth to meet your thrusts. It’s almost addicting, the way he sounds when he’s fucking you. He also grunts and groans, but it’s the soft cries he lets out every time he bottoms out inside of you that are your favorites, especially when he looks at you with those eyes. His chocolate brown eyes are fully blown, cheeks flustered and brows slightly furrowed as the pace of his thrusts increases. He’s getting close, and you are too. 

“Touch yourself, love,” Chan whispers on your lips, “‘M not gonna last much longer. Wanna cum together.”

You delicately push two digits in Chan’s mouth, and he sucks and licks them to get them wet enough - when you take them out, there’s a string of saliva that connects them to his lips, and it’s the hottest thing ever. You whine when your own fingers brush your clit, wet with Chan’s spit. Rubbing fast circles on your sensitive bud, you manage to get yourself off right before he finds his own release. 

“Look at me,” Chan whimpers, “Look at me when you cum, fuck.” 

You do exactly that, and when he feels you clenching around him, he finds his own release much quicker than he thought he would. Chan looks beautiful when he cums. Eyes rolled in the back of his skull, swollen lips parted as he releases the sweetest sounds, Adam’s apple bobbing as he shoots his load inside of you. 

“Fuck, love, there’s so much cum. ‘M cumming so much, fuck,” he curses under his breath as he keeps on releasing and releasing, filling you up to the brim until it starts to spill out of you, wetting the sheets. 

You place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he crashes his lips onto yours as he continues to ride out his orgasm as you play with his soft curls. Eventually, with a sigh, his body collapses on top of yours and he hides his face in your cleavage, chest rising and falling quickly. 

“Chan, baby,” you call his name after a while, “Can you hand me a towel?”

He nods, but as he kneels between your legs he realizes something. “Shit, they’re still inside the boxes, love.”

You smile at him. “It’s fine. It just means we’ll have our first shower in our new home.”

Chan smiles at you too. When you sit on the mattress, the action causes his seed to eventually drip from your hole, and when you look down, you find out the sheets are completely drenched in Chan’s cum. 

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck, guilty, “maybe we should do our first laundry, too.”

🏡

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 - “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧” 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝.

#Bang Chan smut #chan smut #Chris bang smut #Bang Chan fic #bang chan x reader smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan hard thoughts #bang chan hard hours #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids masterlist #skz masterlist #stray kids #skz #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #bang chan x you smut #bang chan x you #bang chan #bang chan smut #chris bang smut #bang chan x y/n #bangchan smut #bangchan #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids drabbles

[euaphoric]

・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・ ゜

✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader (established relationship) ✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, very suggestive but no actual sm*t in this, cute kissing & cuddling hhh, oc is called “little girl” like once

another 4 am post, im on a roll w these hehe >:3 but i just wanted something to post for my bday (even tho this nothing to do w birthdays?? LMAO) and i can’t get this damn live out of my head like he’s fckung inssne sffdsgsh n e ways this is lowk corny but enjoy lol.

the faint sounds of birds chirping awoke you from your nightly slumber, eyes fluttering open to your wide awake boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he seemed to be very focused on whatever he was watching, wondering how long he’s been awake for. you prop yourself up slowly on your elbows, barely able to move a muscle from feeling sore by last night’s events. you two can go at it for hours at a time - you forgot how much of a real workout it is being on top. it’s impossible so hard to resist him though, you love that jungkook has just as much of an insanely high libido as you, literal match made in heaven.

waking up to him everyday already felt like a blessing in itself honestly. he was the epitome of perfection; in only a pair of boxers, staring at his chiseled figure, toned biceps, those muscles?? yeah you were beyond down bad for him. but he was just as down bad (debatably more) for you too. your raging hormones were really getting the best of you. your first thoughts were to violently make out with him but instead you settle for some sweet cuddles right now, coming closer to nuzzle in his bare chest. “g’mornin’ sleepyhead.” jungkook mumbles, averting his attention to you instead of the screen. “took you long enough to wake up!” his arms went to cage around your form. “what time is it babe?” you ask, a slight yawn slips out, still feeling groggy.

“7 am.” “wait- really?!” you were so confused, you weren’t expecting it to be this early since usually you don’t wake up until around 10 or 11. “yeah, i didn’t get much sleep though.” his soothing touch runs down your back, pressing delicate kisses to your forehead. this was home to you; feeling his warmth against you, listening to his hums as he cradles you, never wanting to leave his embrace. you were living rent free in your boyfriend’s arms 24/7.“hmm, what should we do today?” you ask, peeking your head out a bit. “dunno… why don’t we just stay in and watch some anime?” his lips proceed to attack your face, pecking kisses all over until you’re physically sick of it. unable to utter a single word out from all the smothering, you just let him do as he pleases.

“but we do that everyday already koob.” you finally get to say once he comes up for air. “and? i see no objection here.” god he can be so stubborn at times… “c’monn, we should go do something today..” you pout, feeling bratty over his unwillingness to be social. you love staying in bed and binge watching shows with him but for some unknown reason you wanted to be adventurous today. “actually, i know what i wanna do today.” he smirks, biting his lip at you. of course, he only wants to stay inside because he’s horny-_-

you let out a tiny scoff, “ugh, perv!” nothing he says should ever surprise you anymore but it’s still fun to tease him. “only for you though.” he chuckled, pulling you back in but this time plants a wet kiss to your lips, “truthfully i just want you all for myself.” his hand brings your leg over to wrap around his waist. “such a selfish boy.” you tease some more, combing the disheveled strands of his silky hair. “mhm mhmm, that’s me.” he proudly admits, he acts very territorial over what’s his and would def gatekeep you from everyone if he could, no one deserves to see his precious bb but him:( “i’m still hella sore from yesterday, i don’t know if i feel like doing anything right now.” you timidly reply, butterflies forming in your tummy as he casually traces circles to your thigh. his eyebrows furrowed, “who said you had to do anything?”

he catches you off guard when suddenly his body shifts underneath, positioning you to be below him while hovering over you. when leaning in he stops midway to stare and admire your pretty lips, wanting so badly for them to be on his. he closes the distance to finally kiss you, giving you a million more butterflies as your body sinks into the mattress. you can sense all the passion and longing from just kissing him, it’s desperate yet filled with fervor, you feel his love immensely. when he gnaws your lower lip as entry, it becomes more heated - a full-on make out sesh occurs. fingers all tangled up in his locks while he caresses your upper body, lips moving perfectly in sync with one another. soon as you wrapped your legs around him a switch goes off in his brain, he needs you, like expeditiously. jungkook sneaks his hands up to your arms when he breaks away, pinning them above your head, you don’t know why but your first reaction was to giggle which puzzles him. “what’s so funny hm? keep thinking i’m playing little girl, i’ll have you begging we stay in.” he remarks, eyes shading darker as he doesn’t find any of this to be a laughing matter. “koo i-” he quickly cuts you off with another breathless kiss.

“shh, just lay back and relax pretty, let me do all the work for you.”

#jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfic

[intoanotherworld23]

Good Girl For Oliver

Pairing: Reader x Oliver Quick

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, there is smut in this loads of it, there is lots of oral female receiving, minor fingering, smidge of choking, bondage, and unprotected sex

Word count: 1407 words

Summary: Oliver Quick has got you right where he wants you

Long time no read everyone!! I know I’ve been absent for a hot minute but I am back and ready to write again! Thanks everyone so much for kind words and being supportive to me all this time, I appreciate all my followers I really do. So I recently watched Saltburn and like every thirsty horny person out there I had to write something for it! I hope you guys enjoy this one and let me know if you’d like to read more! Love you all so much! Don’t forget to reblog cause reblogging saves writers lives! XOXO

"Oh god."

The heat between your legs was becoming almost unbearable at this moment. It was like an ache you couldn't get rid of, and it was starting to get to you.

Fingers gripping onto the hand rails behind your head as the silk fabric started to cut into your skin.

Back arching off the bed as your toes became entangled in the cold sheets. It was like you were being tortured, and you loved every minute of it.

Your legs were numb to feeling as they were constantly shaking, and thick hands were gripping your soft flesh.

A wet tongue lapping relentlessly at your raw core. Running circles around your dripping opening like you were his last meal. The sounds of your slickness like music to his ears. He could keep you like this all day, and you knew he would too.

“Mhhhm. More Ollie.” Whispering just enough for him to hear.

“You want more?” Tongue sucking onto your clit making your cry out.

Diving his tongue right in as his fingers spread your lips apart getting easier access. Nuzzling his face so close his nose was brushing against your clit. His tongue massaging your inner walls as his hands rubbed soothing circles on your outer knees.

Rotating your hips against his face wanting more, but unable to open your mouth and say the words. His tongue literally had you speechless right now.

“Something wrong sweetheart?” His tone condescending as he smirked up at you. “Did you need something?”

Pushing two fingers inside of you admiring how tight you were. Biting your bottom lip so harshly you thought you might draw blood. His fingers felt so delicious inside of you.

Your limbs felt so heavy but relaxed at the same time. Whining down at Oliver to go faster, and he responded with a light chuckle.

“Can’t wait to fuck that little cunt of yours.” He says biting his bottom lip.

His thick fingers continued to slowly thrust and curl inside of you. Waiting for your response as you gasped when he sharply pushed his digits all the way up into your cervix. He was in complete control over you, and had you right where he wanted you.

“Cat got your tongue?” He teased when you weren’t responding.

Watching intensely as your mouth hung open, and only little squeaks came out. Kissing up your stomach as he nuzzled your hot skin loving how vulnerable you were for him. Really pulling against your restraints hoping he would untie you.

“Such a poor little thing aren’t you.” Oliver coos into your ear. “So desperate to cum.”

“Ollie.” Mewling desperate to grip onto his locks or just something.

Instead of responding he just pulls apart your thighs even more. The slight burn radiating all the way down to your calves. Meanwhile he just stared between your legs licking his lips noticing just how wet and raw you looked.

“Fuck just look at you.” Shaking his head in almost disbelief you were all his. “Look so fucking beautiful.”

Watching as he lowers one of his hands to grip onto his very erect cock. Stroking himself groaning in pain from how sensitive he was. All he wanted right now was to bury himself deep inside of you.

Even though it was a very simple motion it was still the hottest thing you had ever seen. Grinding your hips into the air wanting him to touch you or something. Of course Oliver saw what you were doing and grinned down at you.

“What do you want darling?” Reaching out to grip softly onto your neck with the same hand that gripped his cock just seconds ago.

“Oliver.” Whining up at him just hoping he would give it to you.

“No no.” He shakes his head at you. “My sweet girl I want to hear you say it.”

His hand tightening around your neck just slightly. Feeling the pressure of his fingers against your throat. Smoothly running his hand down past your collarbone, and in between your breasts. Feeling just how heavily your were breathing.

Oliver was known for pushing you past your comfort zone. He wanted you to always give in to what he wanted when it came to sex. He wanted you and nobody else.

Just to tease you even more he places the tip of his cock at your entrance. Gathering your juices and rubbing it up and down. Twisting your hips to get more, but he just grabbed your hips to keep you still.

“Tell me like the good little girl you are.” His tip barely just entering you.

“Please fuck me Oliver.” Finally able to say the words. “Just fuck me so hard I want your cock so badly.”

Smiling down at you as he leaned forward to attach his lips to yours. His mouth moving along yours in such a sensual manner you felt so many sparks of fireworks. Feeling the outline of his cock pressed against your cunt.

Pushing his tongue inside your mouth at the same time he pushed his length inside of you. Swallowing your moans as his hips were pressed into your pelvis. Staying there for just a few seconds so you could adjust. Savoring the moment your walls enclosed around him like little suckers.

“Such a tight delicious cunt for me.” He groaned as he pulled out and pushing back in. “Gonna have to fuck you more often sweetheart.”

He begins to pound into your cunt with no mercy. The sounds of his hips slapping against yours. Moving the bed and slamming the headboard into the wall. His little grunts echoing in your ear and he moved relentlessly inside of you.

Feeling the fabric rubbing against your skin even harder creating a burning sensation. Typically the pain would have brought tears to your eyes, but right now it was only heightening the pleasure even more intensely.

“Look at me sweet girl.” Commanding you noticing your shut eyes. “Look into my eyes as you cum around my cock.”

Noticing how his jaw clenched as he grit his teeth staring deep into your eyes. Feeling your cheeks begin to become hot with such an intimate interaction. It was just you and him in this moment, and he wanted you to become lost in each other.

“That’s my good girl.” He praised you. “Always such a good sweet girl for me.”

Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as you began to feel that intense feeling building inside your stomach. Breasts bouncing back and forth with the motion of his rocking. His eyes looking down at them with lust. Unable to bear it anymore as he attached your left breast into his mouth.

“Oh my god.” Crying out throwing your head back.

Oliver could tell you were right there with each squeeze around his cock. He wanted to cum at the same time that you did. Holding himself back from spilling his seed inside of you too soon. Sweating so heavily he felt like he would almost pass out.

Lifting his head to look down at where you two are connected. Noticing as each time his cock pulls out a white creamy like substance strings along his length. The image drives him absolutely feral. Moving in and out of you so harshly your afraid he might actually break your body.

Your pathetic whimpers and moans are what keep him motivated. His eyes staying concentrated on your completely blissed out face. Your pupils are so dilated from being high off of each other.

“Cum for me sweetheart.” He begs you unable to hold back any longer. “I’m right there.”

One of his hands reached down between you two to rub circles against your bundle of nerves. That was enough to send you spiraling. Your toes curling as your whole body shook with such an intense orgasm. Legs trembling against Oliver’s hips as he held onto you.

Spilling his own seed inside of you his cock twitching a couple of times as he drained the last of his fluid. Laying against you feeling absolutely tired but relaxed.

“Was that okay?” He asked timidly as he reached up to untie your sore wrists. Your limbs falling straight down. “I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No.” Responding out of breath eyes fluttering. “No Ollie it was perfect.”

“Good.” He smiled up at you snuggling against your sweaty body his head on your chest. “Cause I’m not done with you yet.”

#oliver quick smut #Oliver quick #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagines #barry keoghan #Barry keoghan smut #Barry keoghan x reader #Saltburn #Saltburn smut

[kissitbttr]

ANA! ANA MY LUV!! idk much about miguel (a travesty i knoeww) but i saw ur fratboy post n now i cant stop drooling at the idea of fratboy!miguel introducing u to his frat buddies!! being so possessive: holding ur waist or pulling u to his lap; kissing ur neck even when his friends are right there. oh my goddd im gonna sob hes so!!!

SUNNY?! I AM BITING MY FIST OMG HE’D SOOO FREAKING POSSESSIVE UGH I LOVE IT WHEN YOU ARE RIGHT

bby you HAVE to hop on the miguel simp train!! HE IS SO FINEEEE😩😩

-

it was around after the third date when miguel nervously asked you to come to the frat house to meet his brothers. he didn’t want to overwhelm you of course, he knew how annoying and pushy his brothers could be but still, he would love for them to get to know you just as he had when he was with you,

you saw how nervous he got, but you assured him by squeezing his hand and telling him that you were okay with that. he smiled in return, kissing you softly on the lips as a thank you,

“i never express any gratitude towards anyone in my life except my parents but i want to thank you so much for finally saying yes, it was fucking annoying to hear him yapping about you non-stop. all of us had enough of his corny shit”

one of his frat brothers, glen had mentioned. feigning a relief expression while he smirked at miguel who gave him the finger,

“i literally thanked Jesus when i heard him going on a date with you, y/n! you are our life savior”

miguel threw his head back in annoyance, groaning at how his frat brothers continued to spill his secrets. but you giggled instead, looking over at him who avoided your gaze out of pure embarrassment.

“what else did he do?”

miguel shot you a warning look, “don’t encourage them, muñeca! they’d go all the way out!”

“oh believe me, we have many” beck had answered, playfully snickering at the amount of times miguel had ranted about you. “which one do you want to hear? one where he talked about you while he was high? or one where it was late at night—“

“fuck off, kingsley!” miguel had interrupted before he got too far, in which beck put his hands up in defense.

miguel snaked his arm around your waist, giving your hip three taps to prompt you to sit on his lap which you obliged.

you happily plopped yourself down on one of his thick thighs. he helped you with shifting your body into a comfortable position with your legs crossed.

the rest of the boys sat in the living room, piling in the same area as they all stared at the two of you. millions of questions running through their minds, desperate to know if miguel somehow blackmailed you into agreeing to go out on a date with him or something worse,

miguel sensed the stares from his brothers and, to be frank, it was quite uncomfortable. though he knew for sure they wanted to know the same thing.

“are you guys wondering how i got to take her out or what?”

they all responded with a ‘yes’ in unison, making him rub his temple and you smiled

“so? what did he do, y/n? because i’m starting to think this is a joke”

“could be. i mean, carlos went all 110% for a girl when she rejected his offer the first time” glen shrugged, earning a frown from carlos himself,

“i did not—“

“yes you did. you stood outside of the campus library with a boombox over your head” one boy chimed in while sipping his beer,

“okay see, i was—“

“oh! and remember when he threatened to pull his—“

“shut the fuck up! focus! we’re not here for me but for them!” carlos gestured his hand at both miguel and you. “can we leave my shit behind? that would be great”

carlos's cheeks went beet red as the other guys teased him for it, beck patted him on the back and told him that it was nothing to be ashamed of but carlos only swatted his hand away,

you found it so endearing at how the frat guys were so playful and funny with each other. typical boys will be boys type of thing. they were definitely far more different than when you see them during parties,

“well to be honest, he really didn’t have to do anything” you simply replied, tucking a hair behind your ear. “but definitely persistent, in the most politest way and less creepier though”

“you saying what i did was creepy?” carlos pointed at himself with a defeated look,

“i mean, if you had to ask then yeah”

the rest erupted in a peal of loud laughter while carlos’s shoulders slouched. propping his back against the chair with his arms crossed, a chorus of ‘see?’ and ‘i told you so’s’ made you laugh,

miguel settled his elbow on the armrest, eyes glinted with adoration whilst his mouth stretched into a lovesick grin. he watched how you managed to pull joy out of them and there’s nothing he’s appreciated more than that,

the way you threw your head back as another cute giggle escaped you while holding onto his shoulder for balance was enough to make his heart ponder,

“man, you’ve got wicked sense of humor, y/n—say if shit went sideways between the two of you, just know I’m available”

miguel frowned upon hearing that as his nose scrunched up in disgust as he leapt the nearest pillow at his brother’s direction for that comment. he wrapped his arm around your waist far more protectively,

“watch it” he warned, glaring at him. he knew it was a joke but he still didn’t like how that sounded, “i’ll kick your fucking ass, monty”

upon seeing that, your hand moved to find his cheek, lightly tapping his chin with your finger to get him to look at you,

“easy there, big boy” your words soothed him in seconds, especially when he heard his favorite nickname leaving your mouth, "I'm with you"

the confirmation made him giddy and his heart blossomed,

he moved dangerously close to your ear to whisper before kissing the back of it making you giggle. “you look so pretty tonight, muñeca” miguel dragged his fingertips up and down your exposed thigh, then squeezed the soft flesh. “so so pretty— do i get to see you in this dress more often?”

the question came off too excited despite his best trying to hide it, again, if there was nobody around, he'd actually take you right there and then.

you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but I thought you like me better when i’m naked?”

“oh there’s no doubt about that, mi amor” he winked with a chuckle, “am i… about to get lucky tonight?”

“you might” a seductive response laced on your tone, winking at him as he squeezed your waist before

the boys let out a couple of groans and fake puking sounds at the sight, but the two of you remained still in your element,

''you guys make me sick" glen protested, shaking his head before getting up from the chair to walk away but you caught a small smile on his face,

"jealous you don't have a girlfriend, mayback?" miguel teased at him, glen only threw him the middle finger before cracking another can of beer from the kitchen,

the rest of the boys followed his actions after, not before congratulating miguel on scoring with you.

the word girlfriend made you bulldozed, eyes darted toward his smiling proud face before yours stretched into one as well,

"i'm your girlfriend?"

his smile faltered after he soon realized what he had just called you, he swallowed a nervous gulp. opening and closing his mouth because he was unsure what to say

you must admit you enjoyed seeing him like that.

"well i-i mean--i wasn't--surely you were--uh--what was the question again?"

you tucked your lower lip in between your teeth, head tilting to the side as the adorable man in front of you became a stuttering mess.

realizing that he is on the edge of a nervous breakdown, you leaned closer to his face before smashing your lips against his. his body went still by your action, but soon found himself lost in your kiss and sighed out of contentment,

you pulled away after a few seconds, tousling his soft chocolate hair before replying,

''i would love to be your girl, o'hara''

-

please please PLEASE tell me this is good!! i was writing this in the car and I couldn’t concentrate for a second because people were honking too much!! bhhshshs

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara blurbs #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara x reader #frat!miguel

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: 1:05 AM

Tags/Warnings: sensual, Suggestive, implied smut, heavy flirting/making out, Idol!Jungkook, Fluff, Established Relationship, implied foreigner!Reader, not home AU though

Lenght: mid.

Languages are marked as English / Korean.

AU-Masterlist

This AU doesn't have a name yet, so I'm simply using times as a name for now.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Don't you want to come to bed with me?" He wonders, walking into the living room where you're still scrolling on your phone.

"I'm sorry.. I'm not tired yet." You pout. "And, are you not worried you might crush me in your sleep anymore, big guy?" Leaning your head back to look at him as he casually steps closer, sitting halfway on the edge of the couch as he looks down at you, tongue running over his bottom lip before he speaks.

"Nah, we literally wrestled on the couch yesterday, You're a tough girl." He wonders, voice low as he clearly attempts to woo you over. "But how about I... make you tired?" He says in English, making you giggle.

"Your English is cute." You tease a little, and he squints his eyes at you, biting the skin of his lips as he shakes his head.

"Not cute." He responds, shaking his head, before he points at himself, eyebrows raising as if he's attempting to appear offended. "Sexy. I'm-.. hot boyfriend." He tells you, and you laugh again. "You no take me serious?" He asks, voice raising in pitch while you fall to your side, thoroughly amused by his antics.

"I love you, jungkook." You say between laughter, and he gets off of his spot before he attacks you on the couch instead, body now over yours as he playfully bites at your neck. He's had enough time now; an entire week of playfighting and getting to know you better in a physical sense- getting the hang of how he's supposed to handle you.

How he can handle you.

"Hmhm, I love you." He responds, before his antics turn into more sensual kisses against your jawline. "Dont want to?" He asks against your skin, and you shrug- playing hard to get. You've talked about things like these before- hell, you have quite literally jerked off on call before.

"Not in the mood." You simply answer to rile him up, not letting him know that you're very much in the mood, but unable to hide your grin.

"Is that so." He wonders, a deep purr underlining his low tone before he places his hands underneath your arms, pushing you higher up on the couch so your back is leveled against the side. "You think I can get you into the mood?"

"I don't know, can you?" You wonder at him, and he sits back at that, hands grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt before it's swiftly lifted over his head, arms easily slipping out of the short sleeves as it's thrown somewhere on the siderest of the couch behind him. There's a candle on the table, barely illuminating the scene of his apartment- but it's nice like this. He enjoys the soft orange glow of everything in front of him, especially your features. They're more accentuated like this, as if you're in some sort of alternative dimension where time doesn't exist and the outside world stands still for a moment.

"Can I take off?" He asks you, hands slipping underneath your fluffy sweater, and you nod, an okay he immediately grins at, lip running over his lips. It's the first time he'll see you in person like this. It'll be the first time he's going to be able to touch you, see you bare and raw and real, and it's exciting to him.

In a way, sex isn't even on his mind. All he wants to do right now is explore.

He's a bit disappointed when he realizes you're wearing a cotton bralette underneath the sweater, but at the same time, he really does like the aesthetic of it all. His palms run over your newly exposed skin with care, before they rest at your sides, head leaning down to kiss from your sternum right down to your belly button. You giggle a little when the cold tip of his nose brushes over your skin, tickling a little, and he grins as well, mind completely filled with you. "You're so pretty." He chuckles, and you nod at him.

"I feel very pretty now, too." You tell him, making him smile.

"You should." He agrees, before he grows bolder, leaning down to kiss you as one of his hands travels over your still covered chest. He can feel the warmth of your body through the fabric, nipple already hardening at the clear excitement of it all. So much for not being in the mood, he thinks to himself.

Kissing had never really been something he really found intimate or anything. It never felt special- but with you, he can't seem to get enough, and he honestly cannot explain it properly. If he was to be asked, he would probably blame it on his love for you, no matter how childish it might sound.

Right now, he feels different from any other encounter he'd ever had like this.

Before you right now, making out had always been somewhat of a necessary step for him to get to the main course, in a way. Like a habit you can't break because that's just what everybody else does- but right now, he believes that he could happily continue this for as long as you're up for it. It riles him up in more ways than just simple arousal- though that part is pretty clear at this point, underwear starting to feel uncomfortable especially when you lift your leg, knee brushing against his by now fully erect length still tucked away in grey cotton underwear and black sweatpants. It makes him groan lowly into your mouth, making you giggle in amusement as you repeat the motion, clearly aware of what it's doing to him.

"Brat." He scolds, before his fingers slip underneath the hem of your bralette, lifting it over your head, finally freeing your breasts for him to see. They look like art in the low warm glow of the scented candle on the table- and not just them. Your whole body that he's exposed at this point, from your collabone to the very edge of your jawline, it all feels like a movie, as if it's not real.

But it is. He's touching you, after all. He can feel you, see you- hear you.

Especially when you whine impatiently, pulling on one of the strings of his sweatpants, making him sit up on his heels. "I'll be right back-" He says, before he jumps over the backrest of the couch- instead of walking the other side around it like any normal person would. But he's anything but ordinary- and that's fine with you. You love him like this, after all.

Because that's him.

When he returns, he blows out the candle on the table, light from the bedroom enough to make it all visible enough so he can properly pick you up in his arms, lifted over his shoulder before he playfully smacks your butt.

"Jungkook!" You scold, laughing as he walks into his bedroom with you, setting you back onto your own legs before he kills the lights again, colorful led moodlight illuminating the walls and you before he crawls into bed with you.

"I kind of like you saying my name. A lot." He hums towards you, before he leans down to kiss your neck, hands back on your body. "And I really liked how you just called it out like that." he teases, referring to your little outburst at his antics. His gaze is dark and sharp as he looks at you, running his tongue over his piercing before he looks at you impishly, almost roughly pulling off your sweatpants down your ankles.

"Think I can make you do it again?"

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#bts imagine #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines

[bahrtofane]

about time

things have always been easy with trent, attached to the hip since you could remember. your other half, his biggest supporter. things were bound to turn romantic no? everyone was rooting for it, secretly you always were too. 

your first date as a couple goes more or less how you planned, awkward and full of teasing. 

word count : 3.1K+

watch it : mild jealousy, cuties, fluff fluff, kinda domestic near the end?

—--

“eat your food." 

you squint, "what the hell else am i doing, you eat your food."

he scoffs, "im literally half way done with my plate."

"it's literally not even a proper portion of course you're almost done." you point at his tiny little section of steak on about a tablespoon of mash potatoes. 

he waves you off and makes a comment about the "liberty of a kitchen."

you ignore this and take another bite of whatever the hell you ordered. you don't remember. you were too busy trying not to focus too much on the man in front of you.  the all black outfit is insanity, you know he only went for it because you told him ages ago all black looks the best on him. and now here you are. suffering

you just nodded to whatever the waitress was saying. though she could have done with less ogglying at your date. your trent. 

you take pride in knowing your his go to, his best friend, his #1. you've been by his side longer than you can remember being without. he's your other half in every sense. before the fame and money, lavish life and dwindling time. he's always been yours somehow. 

maybe you should've known at some point that feelings were bound to be brewing. 

everyone and their mother had told you. hell, even your own mother had told you so. but you waved them off. he's my friend, no trent is my best friend, ew no that would be so weird, i can't even stand hin on a good day, he's annoying, nope just friends. 

now look at you. seated across from each other, his sleeves rolled up while you eat in candle light. the dark blue drapery of the establishment makes this feel way more intimate than needed. and the chandeliers that hang over your head are enough to make you stare in wonder. 

his sharp features almost soften like this, tucked away in a far corner away from prodding eyes and unnecessary media attention. where it's only the two of you in your little bubble, and the soft live piano that travels from the main foye. you enjoy this, but mainly you enjoy him. 

you noticed he cleaned up his facial hair for this, it makes your heart melt. the silver jewelry that shines on his golden skin is a mirror of the silver that drapes across you. he told you to wear silver. the maniac. he planned this all the way down to the damn jewelry. 

(the both of you are matching in general, which makes you feel something closer to insanity, it gives you a thrill when people’s gazes wash over the two of you and they can so easily tell you are here together. for each other. the stares you got while walking in don't go unforgotten.)

he's the one who dragged you to this restaurant, one much more fancy that you care for. any establishment that calls for floor length dresses to eat is above you, but he insisted. even taking time to tell you how stunning you looked on the way here. your cheeks were on fire the whole time you tried to come up with a counter, failing miserably and just telling him he looked handsome too. 

what a gentleman, driving you here and keeping a hand on yours the whole time. you were sweating the whole time. this whole thing is new to you. but you try not to explode while you sit across from him, sipping on your water to avoid eye contact. 

trent pretends to suddenly be very interested in the silverware, but you don't miss the way his gaze still manages to shift over to you, landing somewhere between your eyes and lips.

you sigh loudly, your appetite disappearing while you push your plate in front of you. 

"do not even start." he warns, fork raised and pointed at you. 

"i didn't even do anything ! what's with you tonight. "

"could ask you the same thing," he mumbles between mouthfuls of his steak, "you're being, very weird."

"im on a dinner date with you how else do you want me to act."

he coughs awkwardly at this, "i don't know ! normally. you haven't made fun of my shoes yet. where's the old grouchy evil and conniving friend i know. you're too, " he waves his fork in the air trying to find the right word, "civil."

you snort, "that's a mouthful. i don't know this whole dynamic shift is taking a while to get used to, " you shrug.

"we need to stop saying i don't know so often." he sighs, rubbing his eyes aggressively. 

you choose to ignore that bit, "and i need to be civil in public or your adoring fans might have my head."

he rolls his eyes, "that's a stretch."

you wave him off with a hand, "you never know. crazy people do crazy things."

he looks at you fondly at this, giving you one of his signature smiles, you look away and change the subject as fast as you can think. you don't need weak knees in a high end establishment. 

"you know i would've been just fine with takeout and a movie." you mumble softly.

he gives you a soft look " i know, but i wanted to make it special. take you out somewhere nice for a change. we never do that."

"you're not going to let me pay are you?" you muse.

he gives you a look, "im offended you even brought that up. i hope you know you're never going to be paying for things ever again right."

"and i hope you know i'm going to fight you over it the whole way through."

he finds this amusing, "yeah yeah yeah shut up and eat your food, i think my socks are sliding off my foot."

"i don't want to hear about your sweaty foot while i eat trent, gross." you fake gag. 

"cry about it." he dead pans. 

you narrow your eyes at him, "i'm going to talk about the pimple i popped on my shoulder, in great detail. is that what you want?"

"ew gross hell no. no more socks or feet geez." he scoffs. 

you cackle, "problem solved then."

he rolls his eyes but goes back to eating anyway, cutting his steak with way too much force than necessary. 

you on the other hand have to play tug of war with the fabric of your dress in order to keep it where you want it. 

"you want to leave don't you?" he comments. 

"that obvious?" he nods, "yep," popping the p.

"i don't want it to seem like I'm ungrateful for the effort or anything, because i swear it's not like that. i'm happy to be with you regardless and yeah. we don't have to leave." you try to explain. 

as much as you enjoy spending time with him this isn't your scene. you're aching to go home, and so are you poor ankles. these heels can only be worn for so long and they are coming up on their expiration date for the night. maybe trent can help take them- no fuck. bad. bad bad. this is a dinner, you're at dinner be civil. 

trent seems to be none the wiser as his attention remains on you. 

"why would we stay if you don't want to ?" he looks at you confused, brows drawn together, arm propped up against the table while he waits for an explanation. 

"because you're the one who wanted to come here?" "so? if you wanna go home then we'll go home."

home. oh. he's starting to refer to his house as home. for the both of you. that does something to you, you're almost dizzy. god how can one person be so sweet. 

"we can finish up and head home? i really don't mind." you suggest. 

he hums at this, "alright then. we’re stopping by the chinese place you like so much, you didn't even eat. "

"to be fair, the portions are the size of my pinkie and i think they took too much creative liberty in the kitchen." you wrinkle your nose. 

he giggles, that shy little spurt of laughter, the one you love so much and always try to coax out of him, "i forget the flavors can be uh, adventurous with most of their dishes. "

you chuckle, "definitely adventurous."

he flags down the waitress from earlier who bats her eyelashes one too many times at him while you roll your eyes. he gives you a glare while he pays, before you can open your mouth. while you get up, dusting your dress down, he presses you flush to him, effectively shutting down any advances. you can't help but grin at the little act. even if your skin is on fire from the contact.

your lead out the back by one of the valets to avoid the busy main section and the endless cameras that wait for you from the front.

you step out to a colder night than you expected, rubbing your arms in a futile attempt to warm yourself up. the valet steps away to retrieve his car while you shiver harder than a skeleton animatronic in a halloween pop up store. 

trent notices, coming up behind you to wrap both arms around your waist, pulling you close. 

"cold?" he has the nerve to ask, flush against you and the damn dress that clings against your skin, his breath tickles your ear while you lick your lips nervously. his arms are much more muscular up close. the whole of him is, you can feel the efforts of his training as they hold you. good lord you're going to lose your mind. and the chest you're pressed up against? do not.

"a little." you whisper back, afraid to say much more.  

he hums, rubbing your arms for you, sending goosebumps all the way down your spine, and he has the audacity to chuckle at your reaction. 

"cars gonna be here soon."

you can only nod dumbly.

he unlatches when the car comes into view. thanking the man with a clap on shoulder, almost like an old friend, and a generous tip.

he opens the door for you, holding his arm out to help you balance, sweet of him. 

you duck inside while he says his last thanks and goodbyes to the valet, turning on the heat first thing when he gets inside. 

the drive is silent, not much to talk about after you confessed your love to each other just days before. 

you could almost laugh at the complete 180 from this week to the last. youre so so glad it ended up this way nonetheless. you don't think you could handle another second suffering in silence. 

how it all went down makes you cry in full honesty. it was an argument. over fucking instagram. you were bitching about the girls who are on his dick and he called you over protective and you defended yourself because duh. that somehow had spiraled into how he's insane, and then your relationship. and then you stormed out, don't ask, you don't remember. 

he tracked you down at your place with flowers as an apology and you just lost it, because what kind of friend gets flowers and calls in just platonic?

lucky for the both of you it wasnt platonic, not to him, not to you. 

he confessed first, that you were more important to him than any of the women he follows combined and so much more. you're his everything can't you see that? he loves you, in every sense. he hates seeing you upset so please, don't cry. 

you kissed him, slow and hesitant while he broke out in giggles. 

"does that mean what i think it does ?" he had whispered against your lips. 

you nodded, shy and tender. 

"i need to hear it. please, say it." breathless, at the cusp of losing his grip on everything. 

"i love you trent, more than i think i can explain. you are my other half yeah? my everything."

and so here you are, watching the shapes of the city breeze past you as the gps guides you to your beloved chinese take out. you can almost taste the noodles you're so ready for it you're starving. 

a hand rests on your thigh, softly tracing shapes the rest of the way there and you hide a smile. you don't think you'll ever get used to any of this new found affection. things you once only day dreamed of having now right in front of you.

you're drowsy by the time you pull into the familiar parking lot. you giggle at just how ridiculous the two of you look. stepping out of a probably hundred thousand dollar car, if not more. dressed like you're going to the ballon d'or. all while walking into a quiet little family own take out spot. 

trent takes your hand again, while you fight to bunch up your dress to get over the obnoxious curve. 

he fights a smile while locking the car behind you. 

"you try getting over this mountain in heels and this long ass dress i dare you." you hiss. 

he snorts but keeps his mouth shut as you inside the familiar space. sighing in glee. 

the kind older woman who always takes your orders doesn't bat an eye at your dress, but welcomes you with a warm hug. 

“the usual?” she beams, even at this time of night. cheery as ever. 

“yes please !”

she smiles, getting to work making your order while you drum against your thigh. bad habit. 

you’re very thankful it’s as late as it is, the place is dead empty. a little safe haven. 

you reach into your purse but mr “i’ll pay for it all” stops you. 

you tsk, “come on this is my spot. i want to tip her well. let me at least have this after that fancy meal.”

“i said i would pay,” he states firmly. 

“i know, but paying here is special to me. and i want it to come from my hand. she deserves it after all the kindness she’s shown to me over the years.” you gesture to her wrapping up your boxes. 

you remember when you used to be a student low on cash, she would always fill your plate with double of everything or just give you the next size up, and extra dessert, free drink. the little things, life is all about the little things. 

he sighs, “fine fine. i won’t take this away from you. “

you smile, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. he waits for you on the side while you go up to the counter. 

she smiles at you knowingly, “finally made a move on that one huh?” 

you blush, “we both made moves and things worked out well. “

she grins, “finally. i thought it would never happen, you know. maybe i’ll get to see your kids too huh?”

you chuckle, kids with trent huh. not a bad idea, “maybe you will.” you sigh fondly. handing her the money. 

you hand a few boxes to trent and motion to the door before she catches on. but it’s a little late. 

you sneak out of there while she’s yelling at you to take your change, “keep it ! it’s all for you !!” you shout back. giggling while you and trent make your escape. 

the ride to his house is filled with laughter and you don’t ever remember being happier. 

its all giggles and shy smiles as he leads you up to his home, hand in hand while you race up the steps and make a dash for the elevator. the door man gives you too a look but doesn’t comment, yet. you know he will sooner or later but you don’t care. 

the take out boxes are split in between the two of you as you hold them snug against your chest. humming softly as the elevator opens. 

the ride up is filled with soft teasing, and more compliments. 

"im serious!" he shoves you gently, "you look, incredible." 

your face burns with enough heat to power an oven, his words do a number on you and all you want is to hear them over and over. but you don't say this. 

"you look so handsome trent." is all you find to reply back. 

a shy smile is what you get in return as the elevator opens. the walk is familiar but your feet are making it feel much longer than needed. 

he opens the door and you dont waste a second collapsing on his couch, groaning at the pressure finally being off your feet. he takes the boxes from your hands and sets them on the living room table, kicking his shoes off somewhere as he organizes them just how you like. 

"eat first then change?" he takes a seat next to you. 

you shake your head, "don't wanna ruin the dress."

"alright," he nods

you attempt to get up but your feet are swollen by the looks of it and you could cry at the though of taking another step in these damned heels. 

you reach over carefully to begin the effort of getting them of you but holy fuck is it taking much longer than needed.

"you're taking so long," he groans, scooting down to raise right ankle to rest gently in his knee, hands working slowly. 

you sigh in sweet sweet relief when the intricate lacing finally comes undone and your foot can breathe. he does the same to the left, bringing it up to rest against your right.

 your head falls back against the couch cushions, eyes closed and relaxed. it gives you a moment to really appreciate it all. to appreciate him. 

you crack your eyes open when he gives your leg a gentle tap, all done. 

you swing your feet back to the ground, scooting up closer to him. it's a beat of silence where he watches you, wait for your move. and you press gentle kisses on both cheeks, then nose, one on his forehead, and finally his lips. 

he can't keep his hands to himself at the end, a hand finds your waist, tugging you closer to him, impossibly close. the other cups your cheek gently. 

you won't part till you run out of air, panting gently against each other's skin.

"thank you." you mumble against his lips.

he hums, "anything for you. you know what."

you could reach the clouds like this, could reach the stars.

#trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander x you #trent alexander imagines #trent x reader #trent alexander arnold #taa x reader #taa imagines #taa66 #taa #taa x you #trent alexander oneshot #liverpool fc #football fanfic #bahr footy #footy fic #footballer fic

[chococoveredsmores]

Like anything miles 1610. I feel like everyone is writing for miles 42 and forgetting about the og!

midnight cravings - miles morales

SUMMARY: texts at 3am + a mcdonalds notif = a recipe for chaos

WORD COUNT: 561

A/N: i love midnight snacking. mcdonalds always hits harder at 2 in the morning! also sorry i keep writing miles in like situations where he isnt usually 100% Himself (sleepy, sick) so um,.. i will get to a proper one soon

WARNINGS: nothing seriously bad just fluff, food i guess, reader doesn't know miles is spiderman, reader is highkey a simp

"Ugh..." You wake up with a groan, rubbing your eyes and assessing your surroundings. Noticing the still-dark environment surrounding you, you reach out for your phone which was on the bedside table.

2:42 AM. The phone lights blare onto your face, causing you to squint. As you scroll through your notifications, two catch your eye— a text bubble from Miles sent a few minutes ago, and a promo from McDonalds for their new meal.

Miles’ message was rather cryptic, and a normal person wouldn’t understand what “ruawkkekkrkx” meant. But a few months of these kind of typos (which meant Miles was either on patrol or barely awake), and one learns the language.

On the other hand, the McDonalds notif… if it was a propaganda technique, it was definitely working on you. You click on the advertisement, and damn did that chicken burger look good…

You decide to go back to Miles’ text. After opening the app and keyboard, your fingers feel too heavy to type… so you tap on the call button instead.

After exactly three rings, he picks up; in place of his normally spunky voice was a low, raspy one.

“Hey. You good? What’s with the random call?” Damn, his voice was unintentionally sultry as hell. Would it be weird if you started screen recording? He wouldn't know, right?

Ahem. Anyway.

"Oh, I'm fine, a little hungry though. I just didn't wanna type. Um, nice voice by the way." You hear a chuckle through the screen.

"So, you hungry? I mean, I could like, get you a snack or whatever."

"It is literally 3 in the morning right now." Though you expressed disapproval at what he said, your facial muscles tugged into a smile.

"Whatchu want?"

One link to a McDonalds meal later, you're patiently waiting in a now dimly lit room, phone in hand and still in bed. You decide to watch a show while waiting.

You're midway through your show, engrossed in a particular fight scene when you hear your window open with a click. Your fight or flight senses kick in, and you jump out of your bed and grab your phone and lamp (it's the nearest weapon, so...).

You watch as a dark figure comes out of the window in fear, you are ready to swing your lamp and dial your nearest police station when the figure raises both their hands in the air, to signify peace...?

The person pulls up their mask to show their face, one that you'd instantly recognize anywhere.

"Miles!"

You drop everything and sprint to his arms— literally nothing, not even a meteor, could stop you at that moment from wrapping yourself around his lean figure. Miles places his hands on your back, and the two of you relish in each other's presence.

You wish the two of you could stay like that forever, but the enticing smell of a chicken burger and drink eventually draw your attention towards it and you pull away from him.

"Can we talk about how the hell you got to my window with me living in the 21st floor? I seriously thought that the moment you clicked open the window was going to be my last for a few seconds."

Miles smiles and slightly bites his lips, and God forbid the kinds of things you would do for this man.

"Maybe over a chicken burger?"

a/n: to be completely honest i cringed so hard typing this fanfic but i just need to finish it so i hope none of you umm.. feel what im feeling rn at my own writing...

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman: across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman: into the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv x reader #miles x reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales fluff #miles morales imagines #miles 1610

[retnym]

WORLD TOUR- .01

"Gosh, you just couldn't keep our names out of your mouth."

Flashing lights, loud talking, humid air, crowds full of paparazzi; all screaming to get you to look their way. My breath hitched as I stood up straighter, feeling the fabric of my dress finally move down as it had been tight against my torso. My manager thought it’d be a good idea to go with a tight red dress for the premiere of my new movie. Something I highly wanted to decline but I didn’t know until the last minute. 

“[Name]! This way!” A dark-haired lady calls me, her microphone in hand. This was someone that my friend, Emma warned me of. Heading over to her, she gives a quick side hug and has us stand so the camera sees both of us. “How are you, you look amazing!” 

How am I? Well to be serious, I am horrible. This dress is squeezing me in what feels like all the wrong places. The flashing lights, it feels like I’m going to go blind with only seeing dots for the rest of my days. The screaming, having to look everywhere all at once. And last but definitely not it, missing home for this movie. Missing my best friends in Germany for America. 

“I’m wonderful, seeing so many familiar faces, it’s great." Lying straight through my teeth here. "How are you?”  Obviously putting it back to her I start to space out, the loudness of it all being the cause of it.

I wonder what Bill, Gustav, and Georg are doing. Hopefully thinking about me. 

Glancing around the lights are still bright. I wonder if their fingers ever hurt from clicking that button repeatedly. 

“[Name]?” My eyes flicker to her face. 

“Sorry, everything is so overwhelming. The shouting.” I explain, bringing back a smile onto my face. A fake one, of course. “Oh, I totally get it.” She laughs an obnoxious laugh I’m sure everyone hears and finds just as annoying as I do right at this very moment.

“So, how does it feel being away from Germany?” This question makes me raise my eyebrow for the splitest second. It was like she read my mind. “Well, it’s pretty normal to be away just due to all my productions being away or my tours being in the United States. Only thing I will say is I truly miss my best friends.” I tell in a sad tone, at the end though I bite my buttom lip. Picking the dead skin off of it as a nervous habit that most of my fans have even caught on to. 

She does another phoney laugh for the viewers. Gosh, if Gustav was here he’d be subtly hitting my arm or squeezing it as he tried not to laugh. 

“And your best friends, aren’t they in a famous German band. What are they called again?” She questions the name of my best friend's band? If you’re going to interview me that’s the one thing you should know! It’s all I talk about, Jesus Christ, this lady lives under a rock. “Tokio Hotel,” I say in almost an irritated tone but I caught myself in time to stop it and not make her embarrassed or have this end up on MTV. 

“Right, I knew that.” And again with the laugh. Its excruciating.

“How do you know them?”

How do I know them!? It’s all over Myspace! Look on Twitter! Look on Youtube! We have repeatedly told people, over and over and over! 

“We’re childhood best friends! Mine and the Kaulitz twin's parents also grew up together. Bill is my absolute best friend, he literally knows everything.” I laugh, talking about them gives me so much happiness, a nostalgic feeling even though we’re still around each other.

“What about the other twin, Tom?” My face faulters a tiny bit.

“Oh, he’s a friend as well. Growing up together how couldn’t we be?” I save myself from a lecture from my manager. She never understood our hatred for each other and because of that both of our managers told us to keep it off screen. 

The rest of the interviews were just questions about the movie or about my dress. It was like almost every interview. Most didn’t ask about Tokio Hotel because if they did I’d probably sit there for hours.

By the end of the night, after watching the movie I had gotten into my limo by myself. 

I didn’t want to stay with everyone else or go to after parties. I was getting ready to go back to the hotel, change into some comfortable clothes to go back to an airport.

Heading back to Germany, it will sadly take almost 11 hours on a plane. I also get to go back to my kitty, Springroll or Frühlingsrolle. I couldn’t bring her this time since it was just a week's experience so I left her to the twins. Hopefully, Bill didn’t leave her with Tom for too long she might’ve been starved or neglected for too many hours.

Mentally rolling my eyes, we pulled up to the hotel. I lazily got out of the vehicle to another swarm of camera flashes and screams asking me about the night. This paparazzi you can not say a word to. They will twist everything you say. They’re nasty monsters. 

I just want to go back home. 

“I missed you guys so much!” I laughed, hugging my best friends as they were gathered outside the Kaulitz’s house. “Dude we missed you too.” Georg pulls back, all of us following suit. Bill was still grabbing onto my arm with a wide grin. “We saw every single interview. Gosh you just can’t keep our names out of your mouth?” He teases, the other two guys laugh. 

“Did you see-”

“Oh we saw, we saw the one lady.” Gustav cuts me off, and my eyes gleamed before bursting into a fit of laughter. “You guys have no idea how awful that was!” I shouted tugging on Bill as he agreed. We all talked about what I missed or what they should’ve seen while I was in America. It was all pretty wild.

My mother being from Detroit Michigan we go sometimes every now and then. The twins would join sometimes but they’ve never seen every state like I have. 

“We have pictures of Tom with Frühlingsrolle while he was sleeping. He will never admit it but they bonded quite well when you were gone?” Georg explains, pulling out his phone to show me the pretty blurry pictures of the other twin with my all-black kitty laying on top of his chest while he slept. His hat was in his hand as his dreads actually laid down.

I smirk, my eyebrows raised in amusement just as the angel of a man spoke, one of the devil's children came out with my cat in her crate. 

“Here’s your brat of an animal.” He grumbles, dramatically handing it to me causing all of us to snicker. “What?” He scrunches his nose in confusion. “My brat of an animal?” I repeat.

Bill was practically cackling at this point. 

“Yeah? That’s what I said.” He was not getting to what we were saying so Georg takes out his phone again and shows the picture. The boy's face slightly dropped as we all laughed.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” He crosses his arms.

“It doesn’t?” I frown in a sarcastic way making him punch my shoulder. “Aye, unnecessary.” I shove him back.

“It’s okay to be a pussy lover, Tom.” Gustav lays a hand on his shoulder, I shake my head and Tom just plays with his piercing to cover the noticeable smirk he has to attempt to hide his laughter. 

“Oh, I’m a pussy lover. Just not [Name]’s.” He flips me off, I nod. “You could never get it even if you wanted to.” I roll my eyes. 

“Oh really?” He comes closer and I straighten my posture. “Yup.” I glare at him. 

“Never say never,” He shoves me backward a little bit but Bill was behind me to make sure I didn’t stumble further than I could’ve. Before I could say anything else, Tom was making his way back inside. 

After he left it was a tad bit awkward. Usually how it goes. Either we go into full blown fights or tiny weird arrangements like that. We couldn’t stand each other if it saved our life. Surprisingly that was longest we’ve been in area together without cameras or outside people and didn’t fight until the last second but still. 

A World record for us.

Later than I wanted so I apologize for that. I will try to have the second chapter out tomorrow. I hope everyone enjoyed this, it's fun to get back into writing like I used to:) Also the chapters will be longer:) this is just the beginning.

#tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel #x reader

[heytheredelulu]

I literally never write anything that’s not smut so-

Imagine Bucky wakes up from a nightmare and begins to have a panic attack so you walk him through the grounding method.

Let’s try our hand at angst with a bit of fluff at the end.

Five Senses

Bucky Barnes x Reader

"Baby, I need you to hear my voice. You're safe. Wake up."

Bucky sits upright, his eyes darting about in a panic as looks at you with a fearful and puzzled expression before he registers that he’s no longer asleep.

"Fuck, I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you." He breathes out, tears beginning to form on his lower lashes.

"Hey, it’s okay." You whisper, reaching to take his trembling hands.

Bucky nods, though his breathing becomes heavy and labored, as if he can't get enough air.

"Jesus... I-I..." He stammers, pulling his hands free from yours and clutching his bare chest.

You place steady hands on each side of his face and bring your eyes level with his "Look at me. Five things? Okay? My eyes. Something you can see."

Bucky snaps his eyes up to meet yours, his chest rising and falling erratically. He grunts in acknowledgment and musters a nod, understanding that you are trying to work him through his panic attack with the method he learned in therapy.

"Your eyes." He says, his own wide and anxious as he looks around the room, searching for something to use as his next answer but he seems to be struggling.

“The alarm clock.” You say softly, nodding towards the analog numbers reading ‘3:47’ illuminated on the nightstand. He swallows and lets out a slow breath.

His nostrils flare as he inhales slowly and his eyes flit about the room.

"Something you can touch." You remind him, lifting his hand and bringing it up to cup your cheek.

His eyes flicker with realization and he gently brushes his thumb across your skin.

"Your face." He says, savoring the warmth of your skin against his calloused palm. He seems more in the present now as he brushes your hair back from your forehead. “Your hair.” He’s silent for a moment before dropping his hands to his sides and fisting the sheets. “The sheets.” He slides his flesh hand along the fabric up towards the pillow and runs his hand along it, then taps a finger gently against your book discarded beside it. “The pillow. Your book.” He whispers.

His eyes slip shut as he moves to the next sense. "Something I can hear.”

"My voice." You say softly "I'm right here with you, baby."

Bucky nods his head and opens his eyes, quiet as he listens, his ears perking up at the faint ticking of the clock from the hallway. “The clock.” He pauses. “The damn faucet.” He mumbles, the slow and steady drip of the bathroom faucet audible in the silence.

“You said you’d fix that.” You whisper with an air of playfulness which earns an eyeroll and a slow head shake from Bucky as he bites back a laugh, beginning to visibly relax.

"Something I can smell." He leans in and rests his cheek against your temple, deeply inhaling your scent.

“Your shampoo. Coconut.” He says quietly before tracing his nose down your jaw and pressing his lips to the crook of your neck. “Your lotion. Vanilla.” He whispers against your skin.

"That's right." You place a gentle finger under his chin and tilt his head up to look at you. "And what's next? What's the last thing?"

He chuckles softly, his heart beat steady and his mind now temporarily at ease.

"Something I can taste."

He leans in and kisses you deeply, his lips moving slowly against yours, taking his time and savoring the taste of you on his tongue. When he finally breaks the kiss, he gently brings his large hands up to frame your face and smiles against your mouth.

"You."

A/N: I am absolutely not in any way romanticizing PTSD, anxiety or trauma- This has just been living in my head and I needed to give it life.

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader imagine

[c-h-i-m-es]

eren yeager

"can you do the cooking tonight?" your boyfriend asks, putting his phone down as he looks at you, his head on your lap. you frown and do the same, putting your phone on the side to look at him, "why should i?"

he scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully as he lifts head from your lap, sitting up to face you, "what do you mean why? i've been making food for us for the past days." you tilt your head, trying not to smile, and kinda failing at it, "yeah but like.. this is your house and i'm your guest here. i don't know how you could expect your guest to cook for you."

eren groans as he brings his body close to yours, wrapping his arms around you while his face rests on the crook of your neck, "no fair, you practically live here at this point." you giggle when you feel him place kisses along your neck, "you tryna kick me out?"

he stops and backens a little to look at you. you put your hands up, "kidding-" "who's gonna help me 'round if i kick you out pretty thing?" you gasp dramatically after hearing him, "wow you're such an ass. is this why you asked me to be your girl?"

he chuckles, looking away while you sit up, getting close to him. you cup his face to make him look at you, "is this why you say you love me?" you speak dramatically, him looking at you with a smile on his lips as he puts his hands on either sides of your waist to guide you on his lap.

"mhm, it hurts me to know you think i asked you out just for that." he brings his face so close to yours, looking as dashing as always with his hair messily tied in his usual bun. you smile, holding his jaw on your palm while you rub your thumb on his cheek, "oh yeah?"

"uh huh." he closes the very little gap between your lips, pulling you in with his hands on the back of your neck. you let out a sigh when you feel him bite your lower lip for you to open your mouth for him, which you do.

he smiles onto the kiss, his tongue playing along with yours. you let out a moan, hands gripping on his hair. you shiver when you feel his hand get under your tee, cold on your warm back.

"mm.." you pull back to look at him, "keep your hands to yourself eren." you could see his lips form into a small pout, "really?" you chuckle as you nod, "uh huh. i feel like you're getting too spoiled baby." you place one last kiss on his lips before getting up from his lap.

"so what do you want for dinner?" you look at him, waiting for his response. he gets up, raising a brow at you, "you cooking?" you nod, walking into the kitchen while he follows you behind, "yeah i feel bad for you. so? what you wanna have for dinner, pretty boy?"

he chuckles, "i'm down for whatever you wanna make." you shake your head, "don't complaint later though." he scoffs, leaning his back on the counter, "i never complain about your food."

"yeah sure." you take out the ingredients to cook while eren sits on the counter, watching you look so beautiful while working. "i'm going home tonight."

"huh?" you look at eren, him looking confused like you said something very unusual while all you said was you're going to your own place for the night, "what?"

"nah it was just out of blue." he gets off of the counter, coming besides you, "why though?" you laugh, turning around, hitting him on his arm while doing so. it is now you who's resting your back on the counter.

"am i not supposed to go back to my own place?" you look at him with a smile on your face. he sighs, bringing his hands to place them on either sides of your waist, "you know that's not what i'm saying."

you lock your arms around his neck, "yeah i know. i just need to get some books and i need to make sure my place does not smell of rotten food or anything."

"hm.." you do not look away when he keeps his eyes on you, "how 'bout you just move in together with me?" you almost choke on your saliva. and it is now you who's looking at him like he said something really unusual, which you think it is.

it is not something he should be asking you literally out of nowhere.

"what?"

"what?"

"eren."

he is getting confused by every second now, lowkey feeling like he made you uncomfortable, "you- uhm-" you laugh when you see the face he is making. poor soul looks so terrified.

"oh eren.." you cup his face, pulling him to place a soft kiss on his lips. you look at him with a smile as you pull back, "that was really surprising." he sighs, "i'm sorry. that must have made you uncomfortable."

"no eren, no. it wasn't anything uncomfortable. it was just.. unexpected i guess? i wasn't expecting you to ask me to move in with you.. just because i was gonna sleep at my place tonight." he playfully rolls his eyes, "you are such a pain."

you chuckle, pushing him away from you so you could go back to preparing for dinner. his eyes follow your every moment while he kept silent for a minute before he speaks again, "i was serious about it though."

"what if we get annoyed or worse, tired of each other?" you say, trying to joke but it is one of a main concern for you. what happens when you see each other everyday? it might be sunshine and rainbows at the beginning. but what after that? it might not last long.

it might even cause you two to drift away. and the thought of that scares you.

he holds your wrist, making you turn so you could face him, "y/n, are you worried about that?" he is looking into your eyes, holding such gaze that it makes you look away. you only nod at him as a response.

his eyes soften as his lips form in a smile, "how cute." you groan, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm, "i literally hate you." he chuckles, grabbing your hands and pulling you to his chest.

he pats your back with one of his hand and holds your head on his chest with the other, "baby i've already seen all of you. there's nothing that could make me get tired of you." you move your head from his chest, looking at his face, "really huh?"

"yeah. really really." you bring your hand up to hold his cheek, "why do you think i'm only talking about you getting sick of me? what if i get tired of you?"

he gasps, covering his mouth with his hand, "woah girl you really hit me hard there." you laugh, holding his wrist as you bring them away from his mouth, "kidding baby, i'm only joking." you bring your hands up to your lips, kissing on the back of his hand.

"but like.. i'd never let you get tired of me, you know." you chuckle when he winks at you, before pulling you back into his arm, "let me know what you think about it, yeah?"

almost three weeks later, and eren's apartment looks like an absolute mess. you both decided three years into your relationship that you're gonna be living together.

after some discussion, you both came to a conclusion that you're moving into his place since it is bigger than yours and more closer to the life of city.

you two also decided to sell eren's tv and couch since yours was newer and better than his. no offence to the poor boy. and after finally donating and selling some item that you separated since either eren has it or just is no use for you, all your stuffs are moved into his place.

"see how i always told you that you have a lot of stuffs." eren comes behind you while you were sorting out the boxes of your clothes since you forgot to label them.

"but at least they aren't useless like most of your stuffs." last week, you were over at his place to sort out which of his things is going out and which are staying. let's just say he had a lot of junk.

he scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest, "some things have to stay for emotional support, you know." you chuckle, shaking your head as you open finally found the boxes with current seasonal clothes, "yeah okay, whatever you say."

"oi dummy, where is this going?" jean comes into the room along with connie, who are carrying your vanity. eren thinks, then looks at you for your answer. "you can place it in that corner." you point to the place and they bring it in.

they let out a breath, connie grabbing your bottle to get himself some water. "i can't even imagine how you two can live together." jean says, grabbing bottle from connie's hand to drink some water himself.

"i know right. y/n, make sure he don't make you go crazy." connie snickers, patting eren's shoulder before walking out, jean following him so he could help the others in the living room and kitchen.

"they're such haters, geez."

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